A Superyacht Cup Palma Without Claire

A week ago, Rose won the 2025 edition of the Superyacht Cup Palma. Although we’ve already published the news on our website and a few days have gone by, it still feels relevant. But to me, it’s even more significant because of the emotions this event stirs up inside me.

It feels like yesterday, but it’s already been 12 years since this project — born as a personal escape — first set sail. A project that has taken shape over time, generating smiles (and the occasional headache), with the goal of bringing the world of Balearic sailing closer to the public through news, reports, interviews, and curiosities — always with a smile for the sea. I’ve never wanted to use this platform to write a personal opinion piece… until today.

As the director of this multiplatform project, and on behalf of the entire team, today I write from memory, in tribute to one of the best photographers and visual storytellers I’ve ever met. Not only because of her talent and perspective, but above all, for her humanity. Claire Matches has passed away. Discreet, humble, generous… to me, a truly wonderful person. And from now on, the Superyacht Cup will always remind me of her — for the simple gift of having met her.

It was back in 2013 when I met Jane Thompson, another incredible person, tireless, with seemingly 32 hours in her day — someone I owe a lot to. She believed in us, opened doors, and, along with Kate Branagh, gave us the opportunity to handle the audiovisual coverage of the Superyacht Cup for several years. Those were the days before drones or camera stabilizers. And it was during that edition that I met Claire.

I remember the moment perfectly. As usual in this type of event, the organization had set up modified containers as offices for the race committee, communications, photography, and video. I arrived to set up the computer and prepare the gear, and when I opened the door — there she was. She stood up immediately, flashing a big, beaming smile to greet me. She didn’t know who I was — and it didn’t matter. She treated me as an equal, as a colleague. That gesture alone was enough. That’s how our friendship began.

From then on, we shared a profession, long workdays, and all kinds of conversations aboard RIBs driven by Dutch world speed champions, and many hours in helicopters. Beyond all the footage we produced, the best thing was getting to know her. Anyone who crossed paths with Claire would say the same — she was easy to love.

Claire passed away earlier this year, quietly. When I found out, I didn’t want to believe it. I wrote to her, hoping it wasn’t true. Then I saw the words “typing…” on WhatsApp. I felt a wave of hope. My skin tingled. But it was José, her partner, replying. And with his message came the confirmation of what I didn’t want to accept.

That’s why I’m writing this. Because it doesn’t feel right that someone of her caliber, with such talent and humanity, should leave just like that — without at least one of the many people who appreciated her dedicating a few words, a memory, a tribute. I don’t know if this will mean much, but I felt the need to say something — to honor her from this space she helped elevate, simply by being part of it, through her presence, her work, and her smile.

Beyond the professional, I’ll always remember someone attentive, cheerful, with a smile on her face when she felt at ease. She always asked about my children since they were born. Even if we only spoke once in a while, between one call and the next, it felt like no time had passed. Now that she’s gone, what hurts the most is never having that coffee we kept talking about. Claire, it will remain forever pending...

Farewell.

Carlos Hellín