How I Spent Two Days With Rolex And SailGP In Geneva
Sailing may be just a sport, but in the hands of Rolex and SailGP, it's so much more
There’s a moment—seconds before the start gun—when Lake Geneva goes unnaturally quiet. The Alps stand still, the crowd holds its breath, and a dozen F50 catamarans hover on the water like coiled muscle. Then the horn sounds, and the silence detonates. The boats don’t just move—they lift, slice, and fly. To watch SailGP is to watch physics being strong-armed into submission.
Geneva isn’t the kind of place you typically associate with adrenaline. Diplomats, yes. Chocolate, of course. But on that weekend, the city played host to the world’s fastest fleet, under the steady, almost monastic gaze of Rolex—a brand that has elevated precision into a philosophy.
I spent two days there as a guest of Rolex. And if you imagine sailing as gentle breezes and billowing linen, you’ve clearly never stood metres away from a 50-foot foiling catamaran doing 100 km/h across a lake. The tension, the spray, the constant mental calculus of wind, drag, lift—it’s a spectacle that lasts just fifteen minutes, but leaves your pulse racing for hours.
This year marked SailGP’s first-ever stop in Switzerland—a debut in Rolex’s own backyard. And it delivered exactly what you’d expect from the meeting of these two worlds: technical mastery, elegance, and an unwavering pursuit of excellence.
The Rolex Weekend
My weekend began at the Hôtel du Parc des Eaux-Vives—a neoclassical jewel perched above the lake, surrounded by centuries-old sequoias and manicured gardens. Dinner that evening was at Les Armures, Geneva’s oldest restaurant. Between the fondue and the conversation, the room felt like a curated gathering of athletes, journalists, and quietly brilliant minds. Rolex has a way of building experiences around the idea of mastery—of craft, of time, of discipline.
The brand’s partnership with SailGP makes intuitive sense. Since 1958, Rolex has been embedded in sailing’s highest echelons—from the Sydney Hobart Yacht Race to the Rolex Fastnet Race. SailGP, with its blend of science, athleticism, and innovation, feels like the sport’s natural evolution. It is sailing reimagined for a world obsessed with speed, data, and precision.
Learning the Wind
The next morning began at the Yacht Club de Genève. I thought I was ready to be immersed in the technical side of things. I wasn’t.
A walkthrough of the SailGP Tech Base—essentially sailing’s version of a Formula 1 pit lane, minus the noise—was a revelation. Mechanics hovered around suspended catamarans, tightening, calibrating, fine-tuning. Andrew Thompson, SailGP’s Managing Director, explained how every F50 in the world is identical, down to the last bolt. In this sport, you can’t buy an advantage—you can only earn one in reflexes, reading the wind, and raw nerve.
A round-table with the SailGP team was followed by a visit to the Inspire Lounge with the league’s Chief Purpose Officer, Fiona Morgan. And then, finally, the practice races.
The F50 isn’t really a “boat.” It’s a machine that occasionally remembers it’s meant to float. Carbon-fibre hulls, rigid wings, a cockpit humming with live data. They weigh just over a tonne but move at highway speeds—powered solely by air.
That evening, at dinner, two Rolex Testimonees—Olympic champions Hannah Mills and Martine Grael—spoke about SailGP’s Impact League, which scores teams not only on performance, but sustainability. A sporting championship where environmental action is part of the scoreboard feels refreshingly future-minded—and very much in step with the ethos Rolex has nurtured across its sporting partnerships.
Race Day
By day two, I had—at least in theory—learned to “read” the wind. The clouds whispered one thing, the ripples another.
From the Société Nautique de Genève, we boarded the Corsaires for an on-water viewing of the final race. Out on the lake, the conditions were deceptively still. The crowd gathered, champagne in hand, eyes locked on the foiling fleet.
Up close, the F50s aren’t graceful. They’re violent. Every gust felt like an engine thrum. The hulls hissed, spray leapt across the bow, and chase boats bucked in their wake. It was a mesmerising mix of aggression and elegance. Germany—led by Erik Heil—navigated the tricky winds with a precision that bordered on poetic. Every tack and gybe was timed like clockwork. When they crossed the finish line, the lake erupted in cheers.
And then, almost abruptly, it was over. The sails came down. The water returned to its mirror-calm state, pretending it hadn’t just hosted a controlled frenzy.
After the Storm
That evening, back at the Hôtel du Parc des Eaux-Vives, I watched the last light dissolve over Lake Geneva. Cocktail glasses clinked softly; someone dissected wind shifts, someone else compared foil angles from Sydney. The conversation floated seamlessly from hydrodynamics to horology.
And it hit me: this is what Rolex does better than anyone else—it creates ecosystems of excellence. Spaces where precision meets passion, and sport becomes both art and science.
Rolex’s connection to sailing has never been superficial. It has been a constant since the 1950s—quiet, steady, and deeply committed to a sport that continually redefines human and mechanical limits. The Rolex-supported SailGP Championship, with its global circuit and identical boats, feels like the next chapter of that legacy: a platform where equality of design puts the spotlight squarely on instinct, skill, and courage.
Two days in Geneva made one thing clear—sailing may be a sport, but in the hands of Rolex and SailGP, it becomes something far more compelling: a celebration of mastery in motion.