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.

Tuesday 27 July 2010

Llanddwynn Island to Rhoscolyn – July 27th

Some sailing days are perfect and this was one of them. Lightly breakfasted by 8:30 with the mainsail hoisted, I motored out from my spot from in among the rocks and headland before setting the jib and staysail; both tend to block the view from the cockpit; so felt it was prudent to be without them until out in safer water. The wind, all 9 knots of it, was perfect for a gentle reach up the coast, reacquainting myself with this much loved coastline, passing Bodowen, Abberfraw and Rhosneigr ; looking clinically clean, white and unspoilt in the morning sun. Helicopters from RAF Valley,were beating here and there, on training missions; their clattering for a brief moment drowned out by two incredibly noisy racing cars that took it in turns to roar around the circuit at Trac Mon; an acoustic insult as I sailed past – but it did look fun! The track, right on the side of a hill, overlooks both the Irish Sea and Snowdonia. I think it’s where Tiff and Co test cars for their TV program – Fifth Gear.

Rhoscolyn clearly in view from way down the coast looks wonderfully welcome, the white cottages clinging to the edge of the rocky sided bay; the eldest among them nesting as best they can in natural hollows, out of the wind. This is a raw coastline; bushes and shrubs grow away from the prevailing wind, sculptured and burnt by the blast of salty air from the Irish Sea. Few trees manage to thrive; many of those that have tried have had their crowns torn out. Some say ‘You know when you’re on Holy Island, the Seagulls practice their landings flying backwards and the sheep are tied together, like climbers. When a storm comes in from the Irish Sea, they’ve learnt to point into the wind and hang on to a tuft of grass with their teeth! As for the chickens, each one is tied by a length of string to a house brick to stop them getting blown away.’

I sailed right into the bay before furling the jib and staysail then spun into wind and anchored in 9 meters of water close to the entrance of the bay where a dozen or so moorings offer some respite from the SW swell; neatly tucked in behind the headland. So clear is the water, that I could see the anchor bite into the sand below. Sometime later, as I rowed ashore, so many familiar faces looked out; as you do. Time for hugs, hand shakes and welcomes. I’m here for the next two weeks.

I’ve actually made it! The ship’s log an unbelievable 897 miles sailed......One third of the way and time for a two week rest with the family. But first, a short hop remains - to tuck Equinox up in Holyhead Marina around the tip of Anglesey.

Is it all right for me to feel rather proud of myself and more than a bit emotional?

I hope so.
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