During the first day of June 2010 I set sail in 'Equinox' my 24ft 6' Cornish Crabber from Chichester Marina and headed West down the Solent on a once in a lifetime adventure. Three and a half months later I completed my challenge; having sailed solo around the entire UK; visiting the Scillies, Ireland, Wales, Scotland and the Hebrides; going with huge trepidation over the top via Cape Wrath - the 'big right turn', before the next 'big right turn' heading south, at John o'Groats. This blog is my diary, written most evenings as I took stock of the day's progress; often with a huge lump of Cheddar cheese in hand and a pint of Speckled Hen to keep it company. Sometimes I was almost in tears; tiredness and frustration having taken its toll. Other nights exhuberant after breathtakingly beautiful passages along our stunning coastline with favourable following winds. It describes the ups and downs; the tears and laughter; the extraordinary kindness shown by complete strangers who offered a tired sailor in their midst refuge, solace, warmth and company; their generosity often humbling. My hormones were, I'm sure, in a mess making me perhaps rather vulnerble; as just six months earlier I'd endured the surgical removal of a cancerous prostate gland; laprascopically - a six hour procedure that left me physically weaker than before. You can read the background to the illness and the reasons for the challenge - to raise awareness of this terribe disease; that could have so easily have killed me elsewhere on this blog.

I am indebted to many; and recorded their names elsewhere; but as I reflect on the voyage many months later, I have not fully sung the praise of Cornish Crabbers, the builders of my sturdy little yacht and Roger Dongray the yacht's brilliant designer who drew upon a hull shape that had developed over hundreds of years by men who worked and fished at sea and whose very life depended on their vessel's seaworthiness. It's long keel, sail configuration and weight distribution in seemingly monsterous seas; quite incredible for a yacht so small. A Crabber 24 is not the swiftest yacht to be had for her size, for sure. But what she lacks in that respect she makes up for by her abilty to take heavy weather and harsh conditions in her stride. Built solidly without compromise, Equinox delivered me safely home after a voyage of well over 2500 miles in some of the most hostile and dangerously tidal waters you can find anywhere in Europe. In Wales, for example, the RNLI were phoned by an experienced commercial fisherman watching Equinox from his harbourside office; reporting to them, that a yacht was struggling in heavy seas and a F7 a mile outside the harbour entrance. By the time the lifeboat had been launched, I was tucked up in Aberystwyth marina; a little bruised and battered it has to be said, but safe and sound; I never even saw the lifeboat!

I've recently set up the blog so that readers can cover numerous diary entries in one go. To access earlier diary entries just click on the link 'Older Posts' at the foot of each page. Only a few clicks are needed to get to the entries at the beginning of the voyage and my preparation beforehand.

I hope you enjoy reading it; and if you do, or have done, please be kind enough to leave me a message. For which, in anticipation, I thank you.
The voyage also raised over £10,000 for the Prostate Cancer Charity - not my main goal but those who donated on my 'Just Giving ' page made a huge contribution too; as I was notified by email of each donation as it was made; each raising my spirits immeasurably. My main goal was to encourage 2500 men to get PSA tested - one for each mile sailed; and I beleive that goal was achieved too. And finally, I would also like to thank the growing number of men who have, both during and after the voyage ended, taken a PSA test, as a result of the publicty the voyage attracted; been diagnosed with the disease and taken the time and trouble to email me.

Wednesday 7 July 2010

Flying to Wales

Yet another rough night, the wind changed from a northerly to a westerly so by midnight the boat was being tossed uncomfortably by the swell, in the exposed bay. By 6:30am it was easier to sit up than lie down, so sleep was abandoned. A quick peek out of the hatch showed that three other yachts moored close by had had enough and fled. First I cleared the speed sensor of weed, as I had no boat speed yesterday during my sail to Lundy; only SOG from the GPS. The metal spinner covered in greenery and grunge, so no wonder it didn’t work! Then after a pork pie and a can of coke for breakfast, I slipped my mooring and motor sailed around the south of the Island and headed for Milford Haven. What little wind there was soon dropped, so progress was painful as the spars crashed around in the choppy conditions, especially in the tidal race around Rat Island. Long Atlantic swells from the west making matters worse. A small pod of dolphins cheered me up as they hesitated for a few minutes and played around me. My engine probably an assault on their fine tuned senses.
Then the wind slowly returned from the west and with it a gentle reach became possible without the crashing spars to contend with. So, thankfully, with the engine off and topsail flying we made steady progress north. Some hours later and well out of site of land, still in blazing sunshine, the wind slowly increased and with it our rate of progress, averaging just over 5.5knots. By 2pm the wind had turned more southerly and our pace improved further along with some tiring weather helm! A penalty I can put up with, if it shortens journey time. With the entrance to Milford Haven just in sight, some 12 miles away, I opted to sail into the harbour entrance before taking down the topsail, as the sea was getting pretty rough. Closing in fast from behind, a beautiful black hulled Bristol Pilot Cutter, which probably left Lundy Island hours after me but was now within a mile of me at the entrance. She had moored shortly after me last night, approaching from the South in a cloud of brown canvas, her perfect 70ft hull and massive mast and bowsprit made me green with envy. As we approached Milford Haven she must have been doing at least 12 knots or more, her bow covered in foam, her sails full, taught, wrinkle free and translucent in the evening sun. What an awesome, truly awesome sight!

Milford Haven is huge, mile upon mile of oil related terminals, but now with topsail down, we sped the last 7 miles upstream to Neyland yacht haven. The Neyland Lifeboat brought in a motor boat on a long line that had reported engine failure near St David’s head. A petrol water pump, placed on the cabin roof disgorging water pumped from within. I had some hours earlier been listening on Channel 16 the unfolding story, as Milford Coastguard dealt with the event in a most professional manner that involved a small rib offering a temporary tow to the stricken motor boat away from rocks that its drift indicated it would founder on, before the lifeboat arrived. Why the pump? Maybe it was more than engine failure!

Neyland Yacht Haven, sits in a cleft in the hills. We were given a wonderful berth which we could blow onto. A berthing master took my lines and made me welcome. Within minutes it really began to blow and with it came rain, mizzle, drizzle the lot.... Welcome to Wales!

We had got here just in time. The wind alarm was sounding as I switched off the engine - 25Knots! Phew, by the skin of my teeth, I’d made it.....just within the 48 hours that the Met had indicated. Good planning or just luck!

A fantastic much-needed meal at the Neyland clubhouse, a few wets, then back to Equinox and my first good night’s sleep for what seems days, stuffed to the gills. Perfect!  I woke at 10am - 12 hours deep, deep sleep. I've never ever slept that long....Is it getting to me?

1 comment:

  1. Just seen where you are on the map, Dad. You are flying round!! xx

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