No one could mistake Vincenzo Onorato for General Patton, but he has consistently uttered the familiar refrain: I will be back.

Back, that is, to the America's Cup, where his Mascalzone Latino team from Naples graced the Louis Vuitton challenger field. The Italian team came to Auckland late, expected to lose, were gloomy when it happened, jubilant when they won and overwrought when they threw away what would have been a sensational win over Prada with a fluffed spinnaker gybe in sight of the finish.

Though helmsman Flavio Favini admitted he was partly to blame for the speed with which he turned ITA 72 it was starting helmsman Paulo Cian who missed the next day's race. It was Onorato's striking wife and communications boss for the team, Lara Ciribi, who had tell the media that Cian was "over-stress-eed".

Maybe Onorato has an eye for female charm. "The America's Cup is a beautiful, snobby, very expensive lady," he sighed after Mascalzone Latino was eliminated and he left for the Bahamas for the upcoming Farr 40 Worlds.

What, I wondered, would he advise his fellow Farr 40 owners over a cocktail if any of them were similarly susceptible to the seductive charms of the America's Cup. Onorato smiled and said: "Before you invite her to dinner, think twice!"

Onorato is almost an old-style Cup campaigner. Rich? Yes, the family shipowning and Moby Lines ferry business has seen to that, but above all he is a died-in-the-wool yacht racer and has been such since his teens.

Most seasons he manages some 75 races, flitting between class championships, Key West and Mediterranean regattas in his various Mumm 30, Mumm 36, IMS 43 and Farr 40 boats which he has campaigned over the past decade.

Since falling to the allure of the Cup his seasonal average has dropped to 25 races and, worse, he is no longer able to steer his own boat. Instead, he was ITA 72's aft grinder. Not that Onorato minded. He wanted to be involved and stay with the core crew who had been with him for years.

"They appreciate that I was there working for them," he says of his role as a grunt. All rather different from the Harrisons, Stenbecks, McCaws and Bertellis riding in the 17th man spot. Or the Ellisons and Berterellis who are, or want to be, an integral part of their crew.

So Onorato has gone, bloodied but unbowed, and with a clear idea of how to go about a second campaign.

He might be sad at the early exit, but has no regrets. Or maybe one. "I hate the politics," he said of his first America's Cup experience. "In fact, I hate all politicians," he adds with the passion that leaves one in no doubt how he managed to get 40,000 signiatures on a petition protesting against the movement of nuclear materials by sea a few years ago.

Good job his fellow challengers at Le Défi Areva don't know about that one.

Tim Jeffery, 8 November 2002