In a rare sit-down interview over lunch, our greatest America’s Cup sailor opens up on family, business, Larry Ellison, Grant Dalton, the Blackheart campaign, NZ’s place in the world and his exasperation with red tape.
Shayne Currie reports.

On a dreary afternoon, Russell Coutts and his family were wrangling over the TV remote and what to watch on Netflix.

He landed on Drive to Survive, the phenomenal peek-behind-the-curtain docu-series on Formula One – more an insight into the human psyche than a sports programme.

Someone in the family – “I’m not going to say who!” says Coutts – wasn’t happy with the choice.

“’Oh’, they were saying, ‘what are we watching this for? Haven’t we got better things to do?’” recalls Coutts.

“This is like four o’clock, it was pouring with rain. There was myself and a few other members of the family. This is the very first programme – we had heard about it, and we wanted to watch it.

“After about 20 minutes, the person who had said, ‘What the hell are we watching this for?’ said, ‘That Christian Horner is not a very nice guy’,” says Coutts, laughing.

Horner is the boss of the Red Bull racing team, which has dominated Formula One for the past several seasons. His top driver Max Verstappen has a hat-trick of world championships.

You might see where this is going.

“People form opinions, don’t they?” says Coutts, unbeaten America’s Cup helmsman, Olympic gold medallist and hugely successful businessman and entrepreneur now leading the professional SailGP global series.

At one time, Coutts was the bête noire of a sizeable percentage of the public when he dared take his skills from the privately owned but publicly adored Team New Zealand to a foreign America’s Cup syndicate, Alinghi. But we’ll come to Blackheart soon.

People do form opinions, says Coutts, “and probably you’ve got no right to”.

“But in a way, it’s kind of cool,” he says, teasing out his position.

“It might be unfair and so forth – and it goes back to your comment around tough times and the aggressive approach from the New Zealand public to what I did with Alinghi – but if you’re a professional sports person, you’ve got to expect a bit of that, don’t you?

“You know, you’ve got to be almost resilient enough – call it whatever you want – to accept that.

“As a sportsperson, that’s what you want. If people didn’t care, if nobody had watched that, or nobody gave a damn, that would have been much worse than what happened.”

Coutts wanders into lunch wearing a black SailGP polo top and a smile. While he might accurately be described as an “old salt”, after a career on and around the ocean, he still enjoys boyish good looks.

He’s been around seemingly forever – it’s been 40 years since his Olympics gold medal in Los Angeles – yet he’s still only 61.

Today, we’re at lunch at Gilt, Josh Emett’s recently opened eatery in the heart of Auckland’s legal precinct. Forewarned, Gilt’s chef has conjured up some special options for Coutts, a vegan.

Coutts seems to be looking forward to lunch. He has a few things to say.

“I don’t want to rush it,” he says as the waiter runs through some vegan delights.

Over two hours, Coutts opens up on all manner of topics, not shying away from past controversies while raising a few issues of his own about the state of play in New Zealand.

It is a convivial and rare sit-down interview with a man considered one of our most private figures – a Kiwi sporting great who has fashioned, alongside one of the world’s richest men, a stellar business career and whose own wealth is estimated to be more than $100 million.

It hasn’t all been smooth sailing: the switch to Alinghi, some testy relationships with media and public stoushes with rivals, most famously with Team New Zealand boss Grant Dalton.

The fundraiser night in 2013 is still talked about in sailing and event circles today.

Side by side on stage in Auckland were two of our most recognised sailors – Russell Coutts, the then CEO of America’s Cup holders Oracle, and Grant Dalton, the boss of challengers Team New Zealand.

There is no love lost between the pair, and the animosity was all on show that evening, ahead of the cup in San Francisco later in the year.

During an introductory speech, Dalton had a fair crack at Coutts’ boss, Larry Ellison, and how his vision to have as many as 16 challengers in San Francisco had foundered. In the end, there were just three challengers.

“What the hell went wrong?” poked Dalton.

Clearly riled, Coutts later told the audience: “Grant is racing on the boat. He’s 54 years old … there’s nobody in New Zealand he can find that’s better than a 54-year-old?

“The thing I love about ‘Dalts’… I’ve always respected his ability to raise money because I frankly find it tough to raise money, go out and find sponsors and so forth and I’ve got a few wins under my belt. Dalts has got a lot of second placings.”

As we now know, later that year, Team New Zealand stormed out to an 8-1 series lead in San Francisco, only to lose 8-9 to Oracle in one of the greatest sporting comebacks in history.

Four years later, in Bermuda, Team New Zealand exacted revenge, beating Oracle 7-1.

Over lunch today, Coutts is more mellow about Dalton.

“To be honest with you, I’ve never competed against him in a race before [as a helmsman].

“He had some pretty strong views. At that time, I had some pretty strong views. He’s probably changed his mind a bit; I’ve probably changed my mind a bit, you know?”

I ask him if he’s had any contact with Dalton over the years since. “Yeah, a little bit.”

I jokingly wonder if that’s legal correspondence – Dalton runs the America’s Cup while Coutts is CEO of the relatively young but fast-growing SailGP series.

Coutts either ignores me or doesn’t hear it.

I ask him specifically about the America’s Cup, the competition that defined him as one of sailing’s greats.

“It’s like comparing the IPL to test cricket,” he says, placing SailGP as yachting’s equivalent to the wildly popular Indian Premier League.

Maybe more people will watch test cricket, he says, because of the IPL.

“However, in today’s world, will test cricket ever be as popular as IPL? I doubt it. IPL is just the more fan-focused format and ultimately what happens?

“You get more commercial interest because you’ve got more fans. We’re seeing it with all sorts of examples in sports.”

I steer him back to the America’s Cup.

“I’m not dodging the question. Amazingly, I’m just not that connected with it anymore,” he says.

“It’s only really the sailors that are involved in both. I don’t know anything about the next America’s Cup in terms of the event organising.”

He doesn’t see the cup as a competitor to SailGP, which involves teams from 10 countries racing F50 foiling catamarans.

“I think as long as both properties are professionally televised and look good and so forth, they probably ultimately feed off each other.

“Look at football – the World Cup and Champions League or whatever examples you want to use. They feed off each other… creating that visibility, creating that connection.”

He says he can mount a strong argument that SailGP has been the “best thing” that’s happened to the cup.

“Give me an example of a property that benefits from not marketing themselves at all. I’ve been a bit facetious there but you know what I mean.

“If you haven’t got racing going on, what the hell do you do suddenly out of nowhere? Four years is a long time.

“We don’t consider them as competitors at all, we really don’t.”

Coutts is generally private and doesn’t seek headlines or court media.

“I’ve just chosen to live my life a certain way,” he says.

“I don’t talk about my family life much. I don’t talk about my private life or my friends much and that’s the way I choose to live. Other people do it differently to good effect.”

In 2014, the Herald placed him top of New Zealand’s sports richlist, with an estimated wealth of more than $100 million and an annual salary of $13m while he was working for Oracle in the cup campaign. That overall wealth is likely conservative.

Coutts has four children, his oldest son, now in his 30s, from his first marriage, and “three from my present and hopefully future marriage!”.

His and Jenny’s youngest son is 18 and just starting university. As looming empty-nesters, they’re looking forward to some more travel.

They own an expansive home at Whangaparāoa, north of Auckland, and Barley Station, a stunning, sprawling 41ha property near Arrowtown, complete with exclusive golf course.

Coutts loves golf. His handicap is “about a 13″.

“I say this every year – I should be playing more,” he says. “I was a better player when I was 12. My swing’s terrible as I’ve aged. Let’s just say I haven’t become more flexible.”

He uses golf as an opportunity to meet people and understand different views.

“You can have a good chat with people as you’re playing. It’s not even networking – it’s just a great opportunity to learn or get some new insights.

“The people that you play with are very diverse – in New Zealand, anyway. It’s not as restrictive as it is in some countries offshore. Despite the image, it’s probably very accessible in relative terms.”

Despite being somewhat publicity shy, Coutts did find himself thrust into the limelight in February 2022, after hundreds of protestors – some anti-vaccine, some anti-mandate, and some both – set up camp on the front lawn at Parliament.

Coutts visited the camp one day, himself unhappy about vaccine mandates.

In a social media post at the time, Coutts said he was not against vaccination – he is vaccinated himself – but he was against people having to have mandatory jabs to retain their jobs.

“I’m also strongly opposed to the ever-increasing erosion of our human rights and the growing limitations on our freedom of choice,” he wrote.

“I believe in having the freedom to be able to question so-called ‘expert’ opinions.

“I’m against discrimination and the ‘them and us’ society that is being promoted by our current political leaders. I’m against creating different rights, laws and privileges based on race.”

Today, he picks up that political hot potato. “I like the commentary on one people, one nation. I can relate to that.”

Coutts believes New Zealand largely got the Covid response right in the opening weeks and then sailed hopelessly off course.

He describes himself as an optimist but says he has been worried about the direction of New Zealand for some time.

He is in awe of the innovation and technological advances made in this corner of the world over the years. We are, he says, a magnificent country.

“We punch way above our weight; I’d hate us to lose that.”

He is especially worried about dropping education standards and rising crime, and the impact these are having on New Zealand’s economic growth and international competitiveness.

“For example, if we let crime rates soar do we think that’s going to have an impact on tourism? Of course, it is. You can undo all the good that’s been done for the last 50 to 100 years almost overnight.”

He cites a country he knows well, Switzerland, as a place where entrepreneurs have been able to flourish.

“To me, government should focus on certain things and let that entrepreneurial spirit shine through in other forms of society and actually promote that.

“I know that’s possibly controversial in today’s terms.”

He says New Zealand could contemplate the “unique” tax system for foreigners in Switzerland.

“This would be aggressive, but I think it should be considered. They basically say, ‘What value are you bringing? Are you going to hire people? Who are you going to hire? What industry are you bringing here?’.

“It’s that sort of approach where you actually say, ‘Hey this is a win-win for everyone.”

It would probably never fly here, says Coutts, referencing what he calls New Zealand’s tall poppy syndrome.

But he says there are plenty of examples of countries – he cites France and Venezuela – that have lost their mojo.

“I think if France could claw back what they did 30, 40, 50 years ago easily, they would. I think they all know what the issue is. They just can’t easily solve it now because it’s a whole generation.”

In New Zealand, “I definitely think certain things have to be propped up. Our education system, I think, has got to be reviewed.”

His key point, and one he refers to through lunch, is that strong economies benefit everyone.

Economies are also boosted by major international events.

Coutts loves having New Zealand on the SailGP circuit – the country’s rich sailing history, extraordinary talent and natural environment make it an obvious destination – but he’s exasperated at the hoops he must go through to host a leg of the series here.

“The most complicated country in the world by far,” he says.

“I’m saying on a scale, it’s 10 times more complicated than anywhere else in the world.”

Coutts says it’s the same for anyone wanting to build a house or any other development.

“You have to deal with so many different entities.

“I’ll give you some real-life examples … because what I’m really talking about is how competitive is New Zealand with the rest of the world.”

If you’re not competitive, he says, “everyone loses”.

He cites the SailGP events this season in Los Angeles and New York – the event is now into its fourth season with 12 cities on the circuit.

“You roll into New York, the mayor’s office gets everyone together; they seemingly have the authority to do that – so that’s traffic, the harbourmaster, the Coast Guard, air traffic control because we need to fly helicopters.”

Everyone is in the room to accommodate the event. “You’re really dealing with one entity, one objective.”

Conversely, in New Zealand, it’s messy.

“You do a deal with major events in New Zealand. You do a deal with the city – in our case Christchurch or Auckland.

“You’d think that’d be enough, right? But no, it’s not. Now you’ve got to go away and deal with the local iwi, you’ve got to deal with the harbourmaster, you’ve got to deal with environmental [agencies].

“All of these discussions, and any one of them could trip you up.”

After a lifetime on the ocean, Coutts says he describes himself as an environmentalist. “I care, but there’s an efficient way to handle that and there’s an inefficient way to handle it. I think we’re in a highly inefficient bucket at the moment.”

He talks to developers who say 40 per cent of their costs are now in compliance and bureaucracy. “Think about that for five seconds – it’s just not sustainable.”

Auckland was to host the SailGP series on March 23-24 but the event has been shifted to Lyttelton – host of last season’s New Zealand leg – because of contaminated land that’s still being cleaned up at the tip of Wynyard Quarter, where SailGP wanted its fans and grandstands.

Coutts is optimistic there will be another solution for Auckland in 2026.

“I’m always optimistic, I am. I want things to be successful and by nature, I’m always looking for a solution somewhere.”

With a mixture of pleasure and pain, Coutts was thrust into the New Zealand consciousness at the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles. He won his gold medal in the Finn class as a 22-year-old, sporting a healthy mop of hair and boils on his backside that were so painful he had to wear diapers in the boat.

He has a perfect on-the-water America’s Cup record – 14 wins, zero losses. Nine with Team New Zealand and five with Alinghi.

Coutts came off the water, as a competitive sailor, at the relatively young age of 41.

He moved from Alinghi to Larry Ellison’s BMW Oracle and masterminded two more America’s Cup victories from a shore-based executive position. That included the come-from-behind win in 2013.

Coutts has Ellison – the world’s fifth-richest person with wealth estimated at $US140 billion ($227b) – on speed dial.

He calls him a “massive mentor” and “certainly the most visionary person I have been associated with.

“It’s like getting a very, very high-level insight into business. It’s like doing the executive MBA every year.”

He regards Ellison as a friend, but the professional boundaries are well set.

“If he’s got something that he thinks I’m not doing right, it comes out straight away. There’s no grey area. It’s really healthy for that.

“And we debate things. Sometimes he’ll let me run with my idea, even though he openly says, ‘I think that’s wrong’.

“If I’m right later on, he’ll acknowledge that. If I’m wrong, I acknowledge it. There’s just that honesty there.”

Conversations with Ellison these days are very rarely focused on the present. He leaves Coutts to deal with any issues in the here and now.

“‘You’ll deal with that, right? But here’s what we need to be doing going forward’. He’s a visionary, tremendously futuristic.”

Coutts says he learned early on that if he was to open a topic with Ellison “you better know what you’re talking about.

“He’ll listen intently to what you’re saying [without talking].

“It’s unnerving. In a typical conversation – before Zoom came along, and you could actually see him, I’d say ‘Are you still there?’

“He’d say ‘Yeah, I’m listening’. And you’d talk for another three or four minutes and there’d just be nothing. But he’s still there: ‘Yeah, I’m listening’.

“Then he’d come in when he when he had something to say. Which is again, a valuable lesson.

“He has an incredible understanding of technology and just can very quickly zone in on what’s important and more so if there are gaps, he’ll very quickly zone in on that.”

After the 2017 America’s Cup loss to Team New Zealand in Bermuda, Ellison called Coutts, asking him if he wanted to continue with the cup.

By then, Coutts’ association with the Auld Mug stretched more than two decades.

“And I said, ‘Well, actually, not really.’ I said, ‘I’ve had a great career, loved every minute of it, but I just need to do something different’. And he said, ‘Yes, so do I’.”

He said the pair had both been discussing a sustainable professional sailing competition – building a significant business model on a global stage.

“Even in that first conversation he had in his mind what it could be, based on many of the American sports leagues, but with some fairly significant differences. Knowing the way that Larry approaches his business, it was really a motivation in a way.

“Why is he doing it is probably the more interesting question because he can do anything. I think he loves the sport. It’s a business challenge for him. This has never been done before – not successfully, anyway.”

For himself, Coutts says he loves the challenge of building a sustainable, professional league.

Other competitions – and here, he is talking generally but clearly seems to be referencing the America’s Cup – are a “stop-start affair.

“Things change and you don’t know who the next teams are. You don’t know where the next events are, you don’t know the venue. There aren’t many sports in the world that operate like that anymore.”

For lunch, Coutts settles on an escalivada salad for starters, and a casarecce verde pasta for a main; I go all dairy for starters with a cheese souffle and crumbed lamb cutlets for the main. We stay on sparkling water.

There was a time when Coutts couldn’t venture into a café or a restaurant, without fear of being abused.

In what was once deemed the most traitorous turn in New Zealand sport, Coutts and Brad Butterworth walked away from Team New Zealand after the America’s Cup defence in 2000, into the arms of Ernesto Bertarelli and the land-locked Switzerland challengers, Alinghi.

Three years later, Coutts and Butterworth masterminded a five-zip cup victory over an over-designed – and literally broken – Team New Zealand yacht on the Waitematā Harbour.

Ahead of the regatta, Coutts and Butterworth were subject of a co-ordinated public relations campaign, Blackheart – there were even full-page newspaper ads – targeting the pair.

Leading businesspeople were involved in the campaign.

It was, upon reflection, a moment in time – a campaign that summed up the emotion of many people. But it now looks embarrassing and cringeworthy, especially as professional sport has developed.

I ask Coutts about his feelings on Blackheart.

“We’re talking about something that happened what, 21 years ago?

“Don’t get me wrong, there were some elements that were tough at the time. I can remember sitting in cafes and so forth, and some people aggressively abusing my wife and I, for example.”

While there were intimidating moments, he felt they came with the territory.

“How many athletes in the world have experienced something like that? I would say if you’re a Manchester United player and you’re running on to Anfield, you might experience something like that, particularly if you used to play for Liverpool and now you’re playing for Man United.

“It’s part of the deal these days. Is everyone going to love you? Likely not.”

He says in reality, the Blackheart campaign motivated him.

“I wasn’t particularly fazed by it.In other words, ‘I’ll show them; I’ll show these … ‘ You can imagine the word I’m thinking.

“I look back on it – yes, there were some challenging moments but by the same token, [it was] hugely memorable. Would I make the same decisions today? Absolutely.”

Towards the end of lunch, Coutts refers to a message he’s received from Ellison, highlighting how engaged the billionaire is in SailGP, and the personalities involved.

It is clear from our conversation that the pair have big plans to build the popularity, professionalism and business model of SailGP – through fans’ experience at events to viewers’ access to data and comms on the water.

Coutts is off to an NBA game in March; he loves how that American sport, in particular, constantly evolves for its fans.

We return to the conversation around Drive to Survive, and what that show has done for Formula One.

He reveals Ellison had wanted to do something similar with sailors “way, way back”.

“He called it in his words, reality TV. Let’s do a behind-the-scenes reality TV show of what’s actually going on.”

It was well before Drive to Survive, says Coutts.

“When Drive to Survive came out, I copped it a little bit. He was like, ‘Why the hell haven’t we already done that?’”