There are so many great memorable moments, and I consider myself a lucky man to have witnessed so many of them firsthand. I grew up in Newport, Rhode Island, so the fabric of the America's Cup weaves through my childhood. I used to love walking down Thames Street during a Cup summer and hearing all the French, Australian, and British accents. Even though the result was a foregone conclusion--the home-team New York Yacht Club invariably won--the event always seemed so grand and glorious. But 1983, the year the winning streak ended, was perhaps the most thrilling of them all. With a couple of friends, I was in a dinghy in Newport Harbor the night the Aussies finally broke New York's 132-year stranglehold on the trophy. We were among the first to latch onto the celebrated wing keel when syndicate chief Alan Bond ordered his radical 12-Meter, Australia II, raised from the water without the skirt normally employed to keep the design secret safe from competing syndicates. If you look at some of those famous old photos of that epic evening, there we are, front and center.