MATTERS are taken seriously on the press boat at Skandia Cowes Week. This weekend, the assembled company on a neat little 1960s era motor-cruiser called Speardancer, which is owned, skippered and expertly driven year after year by Crispin Holworthy, of Lymington, were discussing what it is that makes the world’s biggest annual regatta so special as we watched the most expensive boats, in Classes 0 and 1, gliding serenely down the Solent towards the finish.

These are the boats that get most of the attention because they tend to be state-of-the-art racing yachts owned by serious racing men and women who are prepared to pay professional sailors to pilot them around the most crowded waters in the world as fast as possible.

Rumbling towards us under colourful spinnakers were beautifully styled carbon-fibre creations such as Dr Peter Ogden’s all-black Swan 601, Spirit of Jethou, the price-tag for which was more than £1 million, Nick Lykiardopulo’s Ker 55 and Sydney-to-Hobart race-winner, Aera, and Eamon Conneely’s brand new Transpac 52, Patches, which went on to win the race on handicap. There were Olympic medal-winners and round-the-world super-heroes coming at us from all sides.

But what makes Cowes Week different is that sharing the same water and racing with just as much intent, though not always with the same panache or expertise, were some of the smallest and most unremarkable yachts imaginable. No other regatta in the world combines so many craft of such diversity as are to be found in the 1,050-strong fleet at Cowes, which boasts classic antique day-boat fleets, such as the X-One Designs or Victorys, right through to the latest whizz-bang sportsboat, the Laser SB3, and moderate-sized cruiserracers, complete with curtains, such as the old Contessa 32s or Sigma 38s.

While the big boys gybed their way towards the beer tent, all around them and us on Speardancer at that moment were the 27-strong Hunter 707 fleet of 24ft sportsboats with their distinctive light blue and cherry pink spinnakers led by Sparkle, with Bogo Pogo hot on her heels and Pocket Battleship surfing along nicely in third place. Crossing a little way in front of those were possibly the most unglamorous of all Cowes Week’s treasures, the dumpy-looking National Squibs with their unattractive orange-red sails and almost the slowest boatspeed to be found at the regatta.

We Speardanced our way across towards Southampton Water, where we found another classic Cowes Week scene. The Solent Sunbeams, one of the most elegant of the older classes, were racing across the path of a giant freighter, the Forward Bridge, which was leaving Southampton with a tug still attached, churning up the water. The leading Sunbeams, the varnish-hulled Fleury, chased by Emily and Query, bounced and splashed their way through what looked like a sudden taste of the open ocean as their crews sought to keep their sails set.

With so many boats involved, so much else going on and courses often compromised as a result, Cowes is as much about having fun as winning. A class victory is a great achievement and will earn you much respect among your peers, but even the title in class 0 does not register particularly strongly in the wider world of professional sailing. The professionals themselves would never dream of including a class win at Cowes on their CVs, rather the regatta offers a money earning and networking opportunity that can be useful for drumming up sponsorship for campaigns elsewhere. As one well-known sailor put it: “I’m not complaining. I can get pissed every night for a week and I’m being paid.”

Cowes is also about the shore scene — the famous beer tent in the main marina, the smart yacht club balls and the awful restaurants. For many it is just an eight-day party and the record numbers attending shows how popular it is. On Saturday night it was about standing in the rain with a pint in a plastic glass, fighting for a table in the Indian restaurants on the High Street and dancing to a U2 tribute band on the main soundstage.

Yesterday, on Cowes Parade, as the sailors raced hither and thither in light winds, it was the holiday-makers who were enjoying the scene, stopping for an ice-cream as they surveyed a Solent teeming with boats while tapping their feet to the jazz band playing outside the Royal London Yacht Club.