Freddie Carr: Britain's greatest sailing team, and why it fell apart

October 12 2024 stands as one of the proudest days of my life.

Walking down the dock with my team-mates to start the America’s Cup match against Emirates Team New Zealand was the culmination of 12 years of hard work across three Cup cycles.

There were around 600 friends and family on the base to see us off. Another 2000 had travelled from Britain, lining the perimeter, Union Jacks everywhere. As we were towed out through the America’s Cup Village, the crowds were ten deep – cheering us all the way to race one of AC37.

It felt historic.
A high point for British sailing we hadn’t seen in 60 years.

For those on the dock that day, those 15 minutes were unforgettable. The noise, the emotion, the energy – as Britannia slipped her lines to ‘Right Here, Right Now’ still gives me goosebumps.

I’m a superstitious old sod, so I stuck to my routine. Systems checked, I took my usual spot on the Port shroud base and looked back towards the crowd, trying to pick out family and friends who’d made the journey.

A few hours from the biggest race of my life, I should’ve been all focus – but in that moment, emotion got the better of me. A few tears rolled down my cheek.

What a day for British sailing.

We didn’t arrive there by accident. This team was built over more than a decade, driven by the leadership and tenacity of Ben Ainslie. I remember walking the streets of London with him in 2013, just after he’d won the Cup with Oracle Team USA. He was already focused on the next mission – pulling together the backing to launch BAR. I tagged along, chipping in with a few stories to build the excitement but it was clear even then: he was building something.

Eleven years later, after two solid but unspectacular campaigns, we were walking into the match itself. That journey was only possible thanks to the original backers who got the project off the ground, and the commercial partnerships that followed under Jo Grindley’s guidance.

Then came the turning point.

After winning an America’s Cup World Series event and reaching the Louis Vuitton semi-finals, we had momentum – but needed more to take the next step. That’s when Jim Ratcliffe and Ineos stepped in.

I’ll never forget his first visit to our base in Portsmouth in 2018. “The biggest company you’ve never heard of,” he said. But more than that, it was his belief in British sporting success that landed with the team.

After a difficult, Covid-affected Cup in a class that pushed design boundaries further than ever, Ineos doubled down, backing us again after we reached the Louis Vuitton Final in Auckland.

For AC37, the ambition went further. This wasn’t just financial backing. It was a fusion of worlds – marine design meeting motorsport, through our partnership with Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team.

At first, it wasn’t smooth. Our test boat showed the growing pains of that collaboration. But once the focus shifted fully to Britannia and the teams aligned, the gains came quickly. By the time we reached the match, the progress was obvious.

So there we were: a sailing team with fantastic culture built over 11 years. A design team hitting form at exactly the right time.
Backed by world-class engineering and serious investment. The perfect platform to move forward.

Or so it seemed.

The news that Ben Ainslie had been removed from Ineos Britannia hit like a hammer blow in January 2025. It’s safe to say the phone lines ran hot as we all tried to make sense of what the f*** was going on! 

By March 2025, it looked as though two British teams might enter the next Cup cycle. On paper, that sounds positive – but in reality, it risked splitting talent across sailing and design, and disrupting the momentum British sailing had finally built. A well-established team had now turned into a house of cards with individuals picking sides as the dust was settling after a momentous shift. 

By April, Ineos Britannia had withdrawn altogether. What followed was a scramble – Athena Sports Group trying to rebuild a challenge, restructure the campaign and secure new funding.

It looked bleak. But Ben did what he’s always done: he found a way.

Launching GB1, reshaping the protocol, securing new backing… you have to respect the determination. The man has serious resolve.

It didn’t entirely surprise me that Ben and Jim parted ways. I believe the negotiations for the next cycle began on that very first race day – the most emotional, significant sporting moment of the campaign. From a sporting perspective, the timing wasn't great and certainly wasn’t in our pre-race routine.

And now, legal disputes over Britannia’s ownership couldn’t come at a worse moment – just as preparations and modifications should be starting up for Naples 2027.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this team, it’s resilience. Before the big sponsors, back in 2014 and 2015, we were operating on belief more than certainty – pushing forward, trusting it would come together in time for Bermuda.

In 2017, we arrived underprepared. Conservative design choices, late changes – we sailed in our race configuration for the first time just hours before competition. Two hours of practice before the Louis Vuitton round-robin set up the surprise win against favourites Artemis Racing. Backs against the wall? That’s familiar territory.

In December 2020, at the Christmas Cup, we were miles off – struggling to foil while others flew. It was public, painful. We regrouped with an all-team ‘slump buster’ in the team pub, The Grinders Arms, worked 40 straight days over Christmas and New Year, and came back to go undefeated in the round-robins and make it to the LV Finals.

In 2024, we finished fourth in the preliminary regattas. Again, we stayed patient. Trusted the process. The gains came when it mattered. This team knows how to fight.

So maybe this latest chapter – between Ainslie and Ratcliffe – is just another bump in a long road. There have been plenty already.

There’s no question that without Jim’s backing, Britain wouldn’t have reached the match in 2024 and get its first America’s Cup race wins in 90 years. For that, I’ll always be grateful. But the past 18 months have been hard to watch. 

We went from standing shoulder to shoulder with the best in the world – matching Emirates Team New Zealand and even edging past Luna Rossa – to starting again under a ‘dark horse’ banner with GB1.

Having been close to it all, I can see exactly why that partnership produced the greatest British sailing team in 60 years. 

And also why, in the end, it fell apart.