Every year around Columbus Day, three sailors gather in Annapolis, Md., to decide which new boat will be Sailing World's latest overall Boat of the Year. This year's judges include Chuck Allen, director of North Sails One Design New England, Greg Stewart, a designer at Nelson/Marek Yacht Design, and Barrett Holby, a high-tech boatbuilder. The three are also avid racers, and are well versed in both inshore and offshore racing. Perhaps the most important thing about these judges is the fact that they have no allegiance to any of the boats they test, or the companies that are selling them, and are beholden to nobody for the final decision they make, including Sailing World's editorial or sales staff.

Other publications and websites may award "Best Of" trophies, but for 24 years, Sailing World's philosophy has been to let independent judges decide what's best. A lot of times their choices have been spot on, as in 1994, when they chose the Melges 24 as the Boat of the Year, and in 1998, when they chose the Farr 40. Other years, choices were made that had noticeably less of an impact on the marketplace.

For six years, one of my jobs at Sailing World has been Boat of the Year director, a rather grandiose title for a job that mostly involves scheduling and making sure the BOTY judges have what they need to perform their tasks. The perks of the job far outweigh the labor involved. Every year I get to spend a week with fellow sailors as enthusiastic about the sport as I, and get to sail 15 or more of the newest, fastest, coolest production boats available in the United States. We've sailed in conditions ranging from zero knots of windspeed to over 40, depending upon the whim of the Chesapeake at the time. We've flown hulls on big cats, spun out crossover racers, and enjoyed the best and worst of what sailing has to offer. On one memorable occasion, a certain BOTY judge who I'll not name here, convinced me to test sail a 16-foot dinghy with him. Big mistake. Normally, I don't sail the dinghies with the judges, as they fall out of my area of expertise and, at 6'3", 240 pounds, I'm not exactly a dinghy-sized person. After a few minutes of benign test sailing, the judge leapt from his seat on the rail, dashed forward to the mast, and started pulling it over as hard as he could. His intent was to capsize us, of course, but I was equally intent on staying dry. A mighty battle of balance raged for a good four minutes, which Walter Cooper, our longtime BOTY photographer, dutifully recorded, his camera shutter set on automatic. Finally, the nimbleness of the judge outweighed my acrobatics, and over we went. When I look at the photo sequence now, I laugh my ass off. But at the time, I was as mad as a wet editor can be. As an indication of how well I was raised, the judge is still with us, and still judging BOTY for SW.