Old Man and the Sea

I must go down to the seas again, For the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call That may not be denied. --Sea-Fever, John Masefield

When does a pastime become a life-sustaining passion? For Yachtsman Cornelius ("Kees") Bruynzeel, a Dutch timber tycoon, it began when he set his first sail at age five. Now, at 73, Bruynzeel still has an acute case of sea fever. But it is tempered by a serious heart condition. Nonetheless, he was determined to enter this year's prestigious Capetown-to-Rio yacht race if it killed him. The 3,500-mile ocean grind might do exactly that, Bruynzeel's doctors warned; they ordered him to remain on the dock. He refused, explaining that a bracing sea voyage "is better for my health than sitting around thinking about it."

Like any good skipper, Bruynzeel prepared his 53-ft. ketch Stormy for every contingency. Unable to pack an intensive-cardiac-care unit on board because it was too heavy, he did the next best thing by adding Nurse Diana Goodliffe, 33, to the crew. A member of Dr. Christiaan Barnard's heart-transplant team, she came prepared with equipment like an oscilloscope to check the pattern of Bruynzeel's heartbeat and the culinary qualifications to serve as ship's cook. Once at sea, says Bruynzeel, "Diana never forgot to give me my pills six times a day." Each evening, he never forgot to take a belt of Scotch before retiring. Though Bruynzeel denies published reports that he stowed a weighted burial bag in the aft cabin, he had told his crew that in the event of his death, they should bury him at sea and continue the race.

It was hoped that the first of the 39 boats entered in the race would arrive last week and receive a grand welcome from the 200,000 or more sunbathers who crowd Rio's Ipanema and Copacabana beaches on Sunday afternoons. Instead, 100 late diners at the Rio de Janeiro Yacht Club were startled when the first boat arrived at the yacht-club dock unannounced shortly before midnight Saturday with a new record time of 21 days 12 hr. Even more remarkable was the fact that the winner was Stormy, piloted across the finish line by the old man of the sea himself.

"We were extremely lucky," said Bruynzeel afterward. He had gambled by piloting Stormy on a longer northerly route, hoping to make better time by picking up more favorable trade winds. It proved a providential tactic; the heavily favored Ondine, skippered by U.S. Ship Broker Sumner ("Huey") Long, took the shorter southern route, and was so repeatedly becalmed that she had to drop out of the race.

Why had Bruynzeel defied doctors' orders? "Nobody can order me around after I set my mind on something," he said. Announcing that he is going to sail off to a new home he is building on the Seychelles Islands in the Indian Ocean, the jaunty little skipper looked more tanned and fit than when he had left Capetown. The race, he confided, was "a cure in itself."

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