The Cape to Rio yacht race is synonymous with one man: the legendary Bertie Reed. The soul of the race remains the same—a mixture of grit, sea salt, and that unmistakable “never-say-die” spirit that still brings back a shiver of excitement.
I was in Gordon’s Bay recently, in January 2026, accompanying an acquaintance in the live crayfishing business. I hadn’t been to that harbour in years—not since I was a youngster watching my father report for The Cape Times on the powerboating races between the Red Tornado and Black Tornado, those screaming Italian super-boats.
Wandering along the pier brought all those memories back. I went into the Gordon’s Bay Yacht Club and was stopped in my tracks by a watercolour of Voortrekker. That was Bertie’s boat. He was a quiet man who shuffled about the Navy base in Simon’s Town teaching yachting, but he brought a fervour to this race that we haven’t quite seen since. He famously took the ageing Voortrekker and proved that an older boat, handled with enough heart, could beat the world.
He was a true hero—once abandoning his own race to rescue fellow yachtsman John Martin from a sinking boat in the icy Southern Ocean.
I’ve kept a close watch on the race over the years, and while some ask if it’s still a “big deal,” the answer is a resounding yes.
The Cape to Rio Yacht Race has been running since 1971—connecting what are often called the two most beautiful ports in the world—and it remains the longest continent-to-continent race in the Southern Hemisphere.
Yes, the field has dwindled from its 1970s peak down to around a dozen “real-world” yachts this year, but the quality remains high. It’s not just a South African affair either; this year’s fleet included entries from Brazil, Germany, Denmark and Australia. In fact, the German yacht Vineta took line honours, being the first to cross the finish line in Rio after 16 days at sea.
But the real story—the one that would have made Bertie Reed smile—belongs to the overall winners on handicap: the South African youth team on Alexforbes Angel Wings.
Skippered by Sibusiso Sizatu, this crew from the Royal Cape Yacht Club Sailing Academy—including young sailors from the Cape Flats, from places like Khayelitsha and Masiphumelele—pulled off something quite extraordinary. Two weeks into the race, their boom snapped completely. For most crews, that’s game over. But they didn’t pack it in. They rigged a boom-less sail, kept the boat moving, and somehow extended their lead to win the race on handicap.
And the drama didn’t end in Rio. Just this past week came news of a harrowing rescue when the yacht was dismasted and began taking on water on the delivery trip home. In a moment that felt very much in keeping with that old seafaring tradition, the South African Navy vessel SAS Adam Kok III rendezvoused with a merchant ship off Cape Point to bring Sibusiso and his crew safely back to Simon’s Town.
I’m not a yachtsman myself, but standing in that club, looking at a painting of a boat and thinking about a man, it struck me that the Cape to Rio isn’t really about sailing.
It’s about guts. It’s about heart. It’s about that stubborn refusal to quit when things go wrong—which, at sea, they always do.
Perhaps that’s why, 55 years on, no matter how small the fleet becomes, the adventure remains immense.
