There’s a certain weight to Jimmy Spithill’s presence — the weight of countless victories across every type of racing boat, regatta after regatta. Among them, two unforgettable America’s Cup wins, in which he stood not only as a fearless helmsman, but as a Machiavellian reader — and master — of wind and wave. Yet when the conversation begins, you find yourself speaking not just with a champion, but with a kind of Australian professor, or rather mentor, of sailing. And it quickly becomes clear: the essence of this explorer-strategist, this engineer-athlete hybrid, lies in his profound connection to the sport itself. It’s elemental. Natural. Obsessive — in the most disciplined sense. Conscious. Visionary.

Listening to his story feels like stepping into a life that’s asked for little beyond the sea — a life shaped by the ancestral pull of speed across open water. At one time, that pursuit was entirely personal. Today, it’s also about creating space for others to follow — and perhaps, one day, to surpass. What emerges from Spithill’s voice is not just the intellectual and emotional depth required of any helmsman aiming for his rarefied status. Like any great artist of the sea, he speaks outward — toward the future, toward the collective. Toward the next generation of sailors in a sport that, often unexpectedly, gave him everything. And now, he’s determined to give something back.

As CEO and founder of the Red Bull Italy SailGP Team, Spithill is inaugurating this weekend the Red Bull Sailing Academy in Marina di Monfalcone — a cutting-edge training center dedicated to the future of sailing. Unlike the uncertain path Spithill himself had to navigate, the young sailors who come here will finally have a direct, structured way forward — a world-class, water-based ‘cantera,’ unmatched anywhere else. A unique space. And for Spithill, the clearest expression of what legacy means — personal, nautical, cultural.

We always like to begin by exploring the origins of each athlete’s passion — just as we do with creatives who shape the sporting imagination. In your case, what are your earliest memories, the first emotions that tied you, irreversibly, to a life in sailing? 

“I believe a large part of any athlete’s journey is shaped by the environment they grow up in — and for me, that environment was quite unique. My parents moved us from the suburbs of Sydney to a remote area within a national park — essentially a small island. The only way to reach it was by boat. I was just 3 years old at the time, and from that moment on, boats weren’t a hobby — they were a necessity. To get to the mainland, to go to school, to get supplies — we had to travel by water. So from a very young age, the sea wasn’t just part of my life; it was life.

I remember getting my first windsurfer when I was about 5. That was a real turning point — not just a vivid memory, but the first time I felt a sense of freedom on the water. I’d already had a little rowing boat I could take out on my own, but windsurfing gave me a completely different sensation: I could feel the force of nature — the wind — and use it to move, to go fast.  That experience really stuck with me. It was my first real taste of harnessing natural energy, and it ignited something deep in me. Not too much later, sailing got in the picture, and it was even better”

And is that spark still there — that lyrical sense of excitement and connection with waves and currents?

“Absolutely. Even today, that feeling hasn’t gone away — if anything, it’s grown. I’ve always been fascinated by technology and what it brings to the sport, but at the same time, there’s still nothing more thrilling than getting a message in one of my WhatsApp groups when the forecast shows strong winds or big waves. A friend texting, “Where are we going, mate?” and next thing you know we’re grabbing foil boards, windsurfers — whatever’s right for the day. That anticipation the night before, knowing you’re waking up early to hit the water… It’s addictive. That thrill — that childlike eagerness — never really fades.”

Lately, I’ve had the chance to interview outstanding sailors like Ambrogio Beccaria and Francesca Clapcich, and I’ve come to understand that every sailor has a unique, deeply personal relationship with the aquatic world — with the language of nature, and with the boat itself. What do these relationships look like for you? 

“For me, the connection to the sea started as something entirely practical. It wasn’t optional — it was just how we lived. If we needed food, if we needed to go to school, we had to take the boat, no matter the conditions. Some days were calm and beautiful, but other days were brutal — rough waters, strong storms — and we still had to go. So, in my early years water represented life itself, but also freedom. We lived deep in the bush, with no roads and no bicycles. If you wanted to leave, the only way out was by boat. And that made the water not just a necessity, but a gateway.

Over time, that daily exposure became something more. I spent hours just watching the sea — whether I was sailing, on a small boat, or taking the ferry to school. The water was always different. The sky, the light, the patterns of the wind and waves — they never repeated themselves. I was always learning, just by observing. That sense of constant change and subtle rhythm shaped everything. In the end, the water didn’t just surround me — it formed who I am.”

What about the competitive side of sailing — its sporting dimension? 

“In the beginning, it was pretty simple. After school, my sister and I would just head straight out windsurfing. That was our routine. But one day, something shifted. One of our neighbors was throwing away an old dinghy during one of the scheduled clean-up days on the island. So my dad, my sister, and I picked up the dinghy and fixed it up ourselves. After that, whenever we came home from school, we’d take it out sailing. Then one day, my dad told us that people actually raced these boats over on the mainland, at one of the local sailing clubs.

We decided to give it a shot — we literally sailed the boat across a significant stretch of water to get there. It was a bit of a mission, but we made it. And here’s the thing: we entered the race… and won. That lit a fire in both of us. What started as a pastime — something to do after school — suddenly had a new layer: competition. And we loved it. That was the moment racing entered my life.”

That first race ultimately led you to the highest levels of the sport — to the biggest events, the most prestigious teams. How did you experience that evolution? How did it feel to grow within that competitive system and reach the top tier of sailing?

“Looking back, I’d say some of it was definitely luck — at the same time, you make your own luck. One of the biggest advantages I had was simply the amount of time I spent on the water. Whether I was sailing, windsurfing, or just riding in a boat to get to school, I was constantly immersed in that world — more than most of my peers. That constant exposure created a natural fluency, a kind of unconscious training.

Another important influence was someone who lived nearby — a member of the legendary Australia II team that won the America’s Cup in 1983. I was still very young back then, but he became a sort of mentor. He shared stories about that victory, and what it meant not just for the sport, but for Australia as a whole. That win was a national moment — a cultural milestone. Hearing those stories planted a seed in me: “maybe one day, I could do that too.” From there, it became a dream — not always a clearly defined one, but always present. I began thinking: what if I could race at that level? What if I could get to the top? Step by step, that dream kept growing.”

You mentioned having a role model — and that’s such a powerful cultural component. What about the cultural side of your relationship with sailing: its stories, its legends, its place in history? Does that heritage shape your connection to the sport?

“It absolutely shapes it. Culture is a huge part of how I connect with sailing. Growing up, for a long time we couldn’t get a TV signal where we lived, so I spent a lot of time reading. And a lot of what I read were books about sailing — stories of explorers, of long journeys, of epic races and survival against the odds. When you think about it, sailing is what allowed human beings to discover new lands. It’s how entire continents — including Australia — became known to the rest of the world. That gives sailing this deep historical weight. It’s not just a sport — it’s part of our collective evolution.

For me personally, sailing also symbolized independence. It gave me the ability to go out on my own, to explore. And there’s something elemental about the water — something almost sacred. I think there are a few natural experiences that deeply affect everyone, no matter who you are. One is sitting by a fire at night. You don’t have to say anything — you can just stare at the flames. It captivates you. The ocean is like that too. You can sit on a beach or on a cliff and just watch the sea. It draws you in. You feel connected. 

And then there’s the act of being in the water — sailing, surfing, paddling — harnessing the wind, the waves, and your own balance. I love powerboats too, but there’s nothing quite like working with nature instead of against it. What I find especially powerful about the sea is that, like mountain climbing, it teaches you things. Sometimes it humbles you. Sometimes it scares you. But it always gives you something — a lesson, a truth — that you carry into other parts of your life.”

Sailing is a discipline that constantly balances tradition and innovation — a sport suspended between the past and the future. You’ve had the honor of competing in — and winning — some of the most iconic events in the sailing world, while also serving as skipper and helmsman aboard some of the most cutting-edge boats ever built. How do you personally navigate the tension between the romantic and the futuristic sides of this sport?

“For me, it all comes down to balance. If you focus exclusively on the high-tech, big-budget, elite-level side of sailing — the data, the engineering, the massive teams — you can end up thinking in a very narrow way. You become boxed in by the system. On the other hand, if you only focus on solo sailing or casual time on the water, you risk missing out on the strategic complexity, the teamwork, and the innovation that cutting-edge campaigns bring.

What I’ve found over time is that both sides complement each other — and actually make you better at both. Some of my best ideas during a major campaign have come when I’ve taken a break to go foilboarding on my own, reconnecting with the water in a more personal way. And vice versa — sometimes when I’m out wingfoiling, something will click and I’ll bring it back into a design or strategy meeting. So the answer, for me, is not choosing one or the other — it’s recognizing that they feed each other. Romanticism and technology, intuition and analytics — all of it matters.”

Let’s talk about your relationship with Red Bull. What inspired you to become CEO and founder of the Red Bull Italy SailGP Team? And what does the new Academy you’re launching in Marina di Monfalcone represent for the future of the sport?

“My partnership with Red Bull began during one of the past America’s Cup campaigns. Over the years, I’ve worked with many different commercial sponsors, but from the very beginning, Red Bull stood out. Their first question wasn’t about branding or exposure — it was: “How can we help you be a better athlete?” That mindset made a huge impression on me. Another key element was the problem I kept running into: young sailors — guys and girls — would often come up to me and ask, “How can I do what you do? What’s the path to get into this world?” And honestly, I didn’t have a good answer. There wasn’t a clear pathway for youth to transition into professional sailing at the highest level.

So, with Red Bull, we created something new: the Red Bull Youth America’s Cup — the first of its kind. It’s ironic, because the America’s Cup is the oldest international trophy in sport, nearly 180 years old. And yet, up until that point, there had never been a youth development structure tied to it. It was a major milestone, not just for us, but for the sport as a whole. That collaboration laid the foundation for what came next. When the opportunity arose to take a controlling interest in the Italian SailGP Team, I knew Red Bull had to be part of it. Our visions were completely aligned — they’re all about performance, innovation, and creating a platform for the next generation.

SailGP was also the perfect arena. One of the biggest problems with the America’s Cup is its unpredictability — after eight consecutive campaigns spanning over 25 years, I can tell you that it’s frustrating to not know where, when, or even how the next event will take place. Rules change. Winners write the format. There’s no consistent schedule. SailGP, by contrast, offers a true season — 14 events, and growing. It’s accessible to fans, attractive to broadcasters, fair for teams, and above all, sustainable. It’s a system that makes sense, both commercially and athletically.

And that brings us to the Academy in Marina di Monfalcone. This isn’t just a training center — it’s about building a legacy. It’s our commitment to ensuring that the next generation of sailors — young Italians, but also international talents — have a real chance to build a career in this sport. A structured, stable, and transparent career. One that doesn’t depend on opaque decisions or shifting rules. That matters — because today’s athletes, especially young ones, have options. They could go into football, basketball, motorsports… Why should they choose sailing? My answer is: because this sport brings everything together. It’s deeply physical, deeply mental. It’s about nature and science, risk and calculation, team dynamics and personal intuition.

Today’s boats are fast, powerful, and visually spectacular. The sport is becoming more accessible to global audiences. In many ways, it now rivals motorsport — in speed, in danger, in drama. And to do all this with Red Bull as our title partner — it’s really a dream. But more than that, it’s the product of a decade-long relationship built on mutual respect, shared goals, and a belief in pushing limits — not just for ourselves, but for those who come next.”

Italy and sailing. That part of Friuli Venezia Giulia and sailing. At Athleta Mag, we believe sport is both art and culture. Was there also a cultural dimension behind the decision to host this event — and this Academy — in such a sail-oriented region of the country?

“Absolutely. Sometimes things just come together — like the stars align — and you realize there’s something bigger unfolding. Even before I officially secured ownership of the Red Bull Italy SailGP Team, our team manager had already locked in this extraordinary location — a commercial marina with not just amazing infrastructure, but also surrounding land that could be transformed into a true high-performance training center. Think: the sailing equivalent of Barça’s La Masia. We’re talking about a facility Italy had never seen before.

A key figure in this was Hans-Peter Steinacher — a close friend of mine, a double Olympic gold medalist for Austria, and a long-time Red Bull athlete. He was leading the project. Once we officially partnered with Red Bull and locked in the team, Hans-Peter invited me to come visit. I walked around the site with him, and honestly, I was blown away. It was clear this could be something really special. Now we have a facility where we can launch a full development program — bringing in junior athletes, training for Olympic campaigns, getting started in foiling boats, integrating health and wellness, setting up simulators, and more. 

But more than the tools, it’s the vision that matters: these young sailors will train side-by-side with our SailGP athletes. They’ll see the path in front of them. They’ll be able to say, “That’s the team I want to be part of,” in the same way a kid dreams of one day playing for Juventus or Manchester United. It’s a true performance pipeline — a system designed not only to strengthen the Red Bull Italian SailGP Team, but to nurture the future of the sport itself. I really believe this is just the beginning. 

Earlier you spoke about legacy. How does it feel to now be in the process of building your own legacy — especially when it involves shaping the future of an entire sport?

“It’s honestly one of the most rewarding parts of my career. Looking back, I’ve always admired athletes who were successful in their discipline, but also made a lasting impact off the field — whether that’s through running a team, leading a business, or helping younger generations get their start. It’s something I never thought much about at the beginning of my career. Back then, it was all about winning — pure competition. 

But as time goes on, you start to think differently. You realize how lucky you are to be in a position to create opportunities for others. I’ve had that chance thanks to people like Larry Ellison and Russell Coutts, two mentors who’ve shaped my path — and who are now examples of how to transition from competition to leadership while still serving the sport. 

Now, I get to see these young sailors come through the Academy, and let me tell you — they’re light-years ahead of where I was at their age. They’re already fluent in wellness, fitness, simulators, media — even social media strategy. They’re sharp, driven, and unbelievably well-rounded. Their energy is contagious. It inspires me and reminds me why I do this. It’s not about trophies anymore — it’s about building something that lasts.”

And if you could share one lesson or piece of advice with these younger athletes — something you wish someone had told you at their age — what would it be?

“That’s a great question. I’d say: there’s no shortcut. Professional sport is tough — and that’s exactly what makes it so rewarding. The most meaningful victories are the hardest won. You’re going to fail. You’re going to face setbacks. But if you stick with it, keep learning, and approach every loss as a lesson, you’ll grow stronger. 

You also need to work hard. Nothing replaces work ethic. But just as important — you’ve got to enjoy it. Somewhere along the way, especially in high-pressure environments, people forget that. Every once in a while, I stop and remind myself — and my team — “Hey, we’re racing 50-foot carbon fiber flying catamarans against the best in the world. This is awesome. No matter what happens today, it’s a great day.”

Because here’s the thing: you won’t be here forever. Your career is short. Don’t take it for granted. Make the most of every day on the water. Work your tail off — but don’t forget to have fun. If you’re not enjoying it, you’re probably in the wrong place. Sailing has given me more than I ever imagined. Now, I just want to make sure the next generation has the same chance — or an even better one.”