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.

Sunday 5 September 2010

Stornaway - Sept 4th

I woke up late and went straight back to sleep again while listening to the 9am news feeling dreadful. I think I became very dehydrated yesterday and didn’t drink enough before going to bed; and what I did consume, was beer! Around 10am and finally kicking my way out of my sleeping bag, wandered along the harbour wall, noticing that the leaves on the trees in the nearby castle grounds both looked autumnal and were dropping steadily in time with each breath of wind. Wash bag, towel and laundry in hand, I’m off to a deserted community centre to have the most powerful shower of the voyage. My head hurting from the pressure and not helped by a bit of carelessly acquired sunburn yesterday – It’s getting thin up there! Refreshed with all my laundry done in the biggest washing machine and drier I’ve ever seen; so big that it took my double sleeping bag and three weeks washing in one load! Leaving with a smile on my face, as I read the instructions on the drier. ‘No shoes, trainers, boots, balls or pets’. So left both out!

  Back on board a full Ulster Fry seemed appropriate and just as I was finishing the washing up; with fuel on my mind, I spotted a man walking along the harbour wall with a jerry can. So unashamedly asked him if he was fetching fuel to which he replied yes, then whether I could join him, as both my spares were empty. Jumping into his car, we were there and back within ten minutes. It saved me a long, awkward and tiring walk with two 25 litre containers; the garage being the best part of a mile away. The first garage I’ve been to with chained up rifles and guns for sale in a rack behind the till! I had earlier, while breakfast fried, considered a taxi having googled a local firm’s number on my PDA; but ringing them thought the £7 quoted more than a bit rich.
   As we drove through town, I could not help but notice two huge white cruise ships had arrived which goes some way to explain why the town seems to be heaving. One moored on the main quay the other at anchor just outside, with bright orange launches going too and fro! Why here? Perhaps it’s Harris Tweed from the island?
  That’s it. All my jobs are done, including giving the engine the once over and the tender which, I think may have gone down a tad, a pump of fresh Hebridean air and a closer look at the three towing eyes. Sadly they have suffered a bit from yesterday’s trauma, but should just about last until I get home.
  By 4pm the sky has clouded over and there’s a chill to the wind that’s suddenly got up. Two grey seals are following each fishing boat that comes in and greedily get their raised noses within inches of their sterns and props. And there was me thinking Rupert in Port Ellen was unique!
   Later on a few beers in O’Neil’s before walking a few yards to an almost empty Chinese restaurant. Huge dishes, which I could see being cooked from raw ingredients through a glass kitchen door were both well cooked, spicy and delicious. I felt like treating myself as I’ve become so bored with my own cooking, especially the rather dull and monotonous stew eaten for the last three nights! It’s a bit limiting having only two rings and a grill. I do miss our Aga, but having one on board would take a knot or two off and give us a bit of a list!
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