The race was a six-day nightmare of groping through fog, hunting for the flicker of a breeze, and battling howling gales of 60 knots that heeled over the big ocean racers, ripped sails, snapped rudders, and forced sailors to lash themselves to their craft. But fair weather or foul, the short, stubby yawl out of Annapolis was the master of the Atlantic, clipping off miles with the regularity of an ocean liner. When the fleet of 135 boats finished the 635-mile thrash from Newport to Bermuda last week, the overall winner, for an unprecedented...
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