While they sipped, several of us stood at the helm station, where we could hear live commentary over the VHF radio. Oracle was first over the line and led as the cats tore toward the reaching mark in the middle of the course. Bearing off, they flew downwind and quickly disappeared from view. A lead change was announced on the radio, and we strained to see who was ahead each time the two soaring speedsters met on their way back toward us. Then, right before our eyes, Spithill and the boys sneaked past the Kiwis as they rounded the windward mark, and never looked back. Horns blared up and down the sidelines, and a fan on another Moorings boat next door popped the cork on a bottle of bubbly, spraying everyone in reach.