Where Is Perth, Anyway?

Break out a Foster's. In fact, break out a pair. Raise them both to the secret-keeled boat from Down Under, Australia II.

After the New York Yacht Club's (NYYC) shameless attempt to get the newfangled keel disqualified, and the American defender's subaquatic efforts to photograph it, justice was finally done on the Rhode Island Sound Monday.

Newport in summer will never be the same.

Australia II's heist of the ex-America's Cup raises all sorts of questions about the future of the World Series of sailing. First, what will the races be called three years from now in Perth? The Cup was not named for this country but for the yacht which beat a fleet of British boats in the first series way back in 1856. Calling it Australia II's Cup for the next few years would be a fitting barb to leave in the NYYC's flesh.

Most intriguing are the limitless possibilities for how the races will be run. Ever since first claiming the Cup, the races have been run solely on the whims of the NYYC, which made up the rules as it went along. The actual races were officiated by an international race committee, but the yacht club had free reign in choosing where and when to hold them and in what kind of boats.

In the first half of this century the most expensive yachts ever built, the majestic J boats, were used, but economy forced the switch to the current 12-meter boats in the 1950s. If the Australian syndicate wanted to switch to Sunfish, rafts with bedsheet sails, or Spanish galleons, they could. Switching the Cup to a board sailing, wave-jumping competition would do much to bring Cup racing within the grasp of everyone who ever said "I think I could do that."

Sailing can do without the NYYC Cup committee in their uniform blue blazers, red pants and fancy straw hats.

Because 12-meter boats are not all the same, as the new keel so grandly proved, Cup racing is a technical and tactical challenge. Australia II was definitely a faster boat than the American defender Liberty, but her crew had to sail it better than the home team did its own craft. The Australians came from behind Monday, frustrating all of Liberty's final attempts to keep the Cup bolted to a table in New York for another three years. So the Americans should accept the defeat and get ready for a visit to the Southern Hemisphere. But there is still a hint of lingering doubt, and national security could hang in the balance.

It is possible that the Australian's victory was Soviet-backed, a deliberate attempt to demoralize America in these times of stress. Don't forget that the keel was designed and tested in the Netherlands, which are a whole lot closer to Moscow than Sydney.

If any of President Reagan's friends are still unemployed, he should appoint them to a committee to study this problem. Perhaps seeing him, Kennedy-esque, at the helm instead of on horseback on his next vacation would be the patriotic boost this country needs. Instead of spending billions of dollars on redundant missile systems, the White House could reroute some of that money to fund junior high school sailing programs. The President should make a firm committment that the U.S. will reclaim the Cup and never lose it again.

In this patriotic spirit all Americans should begin training now for their own assaults on the Cup. The boys down Mass. Ave. with thick glasses are probably already working on their own secret keel and we at Harvard should take up the challenge. Those obnoxious people across the hall who summer on The Vineyard could be our greatest asset. Wouldn't it be great to drink champagne out of the hallowed Cup the way hockey players do with their ritual chalice?

Sailing's not so hard: you pull a few ropes, get a nice tan, and generally have a good time. We can do it. The only requirement is that you bring your own beer.