THE PUNTERS who came away from Cheltenham last month with pains in their pockets may well take some consolation from the experience of John Pierce Coppen, Extra Master.
When he retired from the P&O line, he lived for 30 years aboard a trawler in Dun Laoghaire, and was frequently seen on sunny days sitting on a bollard talking to passers-by. I became a close friend, and he often regaled me with stories of his sea experiences: he had been around the Horn several times under sail in his early days on cargo ships, had travelled hundreds of miles on Russia's northern rivers delivering coal, and regularly took ships to Shanghai.
One day some years ago I casually mentioned to him that Cheltenham was coming up the following week. This brought a sharp warning: "Have nothing to do with horse racing ever. For that's the rock you'll perish on." I immediately assumed that this remark was prompted by his religious beliefs, because I knew that he occasionally read the lessons in the Missions to Seamen chapel in Dublin.
Racehorse on board
"I'll tell you what happened to me," he said. After lighting his well-worn pipe he said that once, when his passenger-cargo liner was on a regular run from Tilbury to Tasmania, they called at Sydney to load on deck a racehorse with a horsebox and a stable lad. The animal was being brought to run in the Hobart Plate, an important race in that part of the world.
It wasn't a very unusual form of cargo, as on a previous voyage he had brought the prize bull from London's Smithfield show to a stock-breeder in melbourne. The bull nearly died of constipation.
When at sea, the captain used every opportunity to break the monotony of long voyages, and spoke a lot to the passengers, learning quite a bit in the process. But on this occasion it was the horse that held his interest, as he had never seen a racehorse before nor had ever had a wager.
Soon Captain Coppen was personally walking the animal around the deck for exercise, and - even in his immaculate white suits (he had 12 of them) - was grooming its smooth coat and giving it apples. He had plenty of questions for the lad, and decided that he would attend the track to see Outback Prince run. He even found out how to have a bet.
Colourful crowds
The captain duly arrived at the racetrack in good time and was fascinated by the colourful crowds and jolly atmosphere on that sunny day. He looked carefully at all the horses on parade and felt sure at that stage he could pick winners easily, based on the conversations he had had with the stable lad during the voyage.
Although it was the fifth race on the card that particularly concerned him, Captain Coppen decided that he would try a bet on the first race just to get the feel of the sport. But the beast came in fourth. Undaunted, he placed a bet on the second race and the animal "must have stopped somewhere to pick up money." He tried the third but it failed and in the fourth race his fancy came in last.
Thoroughly dejected, and feeling guilty for ignoring his longheld principles about the evils of gambling, the captain decided that knowing something about white horses on the waves and being informed about equine qualities were two very different things. So he disregarded the virtues of Outback Prince as lovingly described by the stable lad and did not place a bet. As you can guess, the animal romped home at a good price at a "rate of knots, leaving an empty wake behind it."
Abandoned beliefs
Utterly disgusted and with renewed resolutions firmly implanted in his conscience, Captain Coppen began to walk around the track to the entrance gate with a view to strolling back to his ship through the town. It wasn't the lost money that worried him, but it was how easily he had abandoned the beliefs that he had held since youth in his native Cornwall.
The next race, arranged for young horses on their first outing, was about to pass a curve in the track, so he decided to stand at the rail and watch them gallop by. But as they approached an animal tripped, bringing down four horses that crashed through the rail right on top of Captain John Pierce Coppen. Fortunately he received only a few cuts and bruises to his legs, but his white suit no longer exuded the dignity befitting a commander of a P&O liner. "and you asked me did I fancy anything for Cheltenham," he said, looking out towards Howth Head.