By Tarquin Cooper Published: 12:40PM BST 29 Jul 2009  In hindsight, perhaps I should have paid more attention to how the Extreme 40 got its name before I stepped on board. To get some sense of what it feels like to race this catamaran, imagine being strapped to the bonnet of Jenson Button's car in a mad free for all against the best rally drivers in the world. And most of the time you are on two wheels.  It's fast, furious and quite terrifying. And if you watch the race over the next few days during Cowes week, it's spectacular. But can it really be sailing?  During a race earlier in the year, I cling on hard and try to follow what's going on, until I hear one nautical term that needs little translation. "Collision course!" shouts one of the crew.  I look ahead and my blood runs cold as another boat appears up in front. We are seconds away from ploughing into her. There is not enough room to pass in front. But tucking in astern appears out of the question too, because there is another boat steaming up just behind.  "Collision course!" he shouts again.  Now I'm properly scared. I redouble my grip on the trampoline netting and look back at the skipper, double Olympic gold medallist Shirley Robertson, as if to ask, how are you going to get out of this one?  She holds steady. Four seconds. Three seconds. Two seconds. I think I stop breathing. We are so close to the boat's stern I could jump on board.  Then suddenly, accompanied by a cacophony of shouting from all sides, we flick hard right behind her and, to avoid the boat following, instantly tack hard left. Normally we would be mowed down but, with a sail area the size of a tennis court, these catamarans have the acceleration of a jet engine.  Amazingly, by the standards of Extreme 40 racing, this was tame stuff – we were only maxing at a mere 20 knots. In windier conditions it gets even more hectic.  This is good news for those watching from the shoreline. Ordinary sailing has a reputation as a dull spectator sport, but this is something Mark Turner, whose OC Group developed the iShares Cup for Extreme 40 boats, has set out to change. "It's all about trying to make sailing fun and entertaining – whether you are on the boat or stood on land," he says. The whole point of Extreme 40 racing is to provide a dramatic display of sailing action just metres from the shoreline.  "It does what it says on the tin," Turner adds. "It's pretty brutal but for the first time the public is able to watch all the action from just a few metres away – and it's non-stop."  That's to put it mildly. Last year in Cowes, 20-plus knot winds saw many teams collide and capsize in the most spectacular fashion. Nevertheless, the sport attracts world-class sailors from across the spectrum, including Mike Golding, Britain's foremost single-handed round-the-world yachtsman.  "With a round the world campaign, there is a lot of drudgery just getting to the start line," Golding says. "With Extreme 40s you get on and five minutes later you're racing. It's got the raw values of sailing."  Less commitment for the sailors, cheaper for the sponsors than an ocean boat and more fun for spectators, it's a win-win formula. No wonder the series looks set to become a fixture on the sailing scene.
When Tarquin Cooper heard one of the crew shout 'collision course!', he knew    it wouldn't be plain sailing.