In 2003 (the sport's centenary year), Bohinc won powerboat racing's ultimate prize - the Harmsworth Trophy. Not bad for a man who drowned back in 1997. Yes, you did read that correctly. Trapped underwater after an accident off the coast of Argentina, Hannes was basically (and clinically) dead.

"It was in the World Championship," he remembers, "I was leading, coming to the last lap and then my steering failed, we rolled and it quickly developed into a terrible situation. It was not deep enough to open the hatch. So I was eight minutes without oxygen before the divers came and took me out."

Such an experience might persuade a lesser man to sell his boat and take up bowls instead. Hannes saw it as a major asset.

"Experience is the major thing in this sport," he explains. "Without it you can't race. I would never spend a penny on a co-pilot with anything less than 30 years experience."

Wettpunkt's British driver Miles Jennings and navigator Ed Williams Hawkes are among the most experienced in P1. Triple world champion Miles, 43, has raced since the age of 16 and Ed has been around so long, he claims to have forgotten exactly how old he is.

Controlling one of these "big, sexy leviathans", as Miles describes them, is very much a team effort between driver, throttleman, navigator and engineer. It's called 'cockpit management' and they do it incredibly well.

Skinny, grizzled-looking, straight-talking and sporting a piratical eyepatch, Ed Williams Hawkes could be the Keith Richards of powerboating. He describes the brutal sensation of hammering over stormy seas at a ton as if he were reminiscing about a good tab of acid back in the 60s.

"It's an alien environment. You think you're in outer space. It just blows you away," he says. "It's physical but can also get you mentally. The g-forces can go right up to 9g and the thing is not to fight it, you've just got to get into it.

"If you are scared in a powerboat, you've got to accelerate. The accidents happen when you think 'shit!' and power off on the throttle. Then the nose digs in and you've had it."

To prevent the boat torpedoing under the waves, the crew can adjust weight distribution by moving 600lb of water around the hull using a system of valves. Even so, the boat still sits very close to the water, with the visible horizon just two miles ahead, and at top speed you are there in 30 seconds.

Throttleman Hannes holds a commercial pilot's licence and can afford to fly or drive almost anything he wants. But the high seas give him something no car or plane can offer.

"It is the last freedom that you can find in the world," he explains. "In a million-euro car you turn a corner and there is a policeman getting you for speeding with a radar. But three miles out of port, you are completely free. There is no speed limit, nothing. It's free and open for tough guys who are able to do stupid things."

Hannes and Ed each light up cigars while they wait to take the boat for refuelling. Mid-smoke, one particular official - a hard-hatted, pot-bellied jobsworth with teeth like the wreck of the Mary Rose - strides over and authoritively reprimands them.

They comply, but Hannes' weary half-smile says it all. Ripping across the ocean at 100mph, the only rules worth anything are your own.