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.

Friday, 25 June 2010

Hot tomato and no GPS

Breakfast on a stunning June morning took no time to cook and was delicious, 3 smoked slices of bacon, 2 fried eggs and 2 slices of fried bread accompanied by 2 plum on-the-vine tomatoes, all done in one saucepan – not frying pan - to keep the fat spits and washing-up to a minimum , while sitting naked overlooking the sea bird laden island of Lundy. (Norse for puffin)

Earlier a fast motor boat, had expertly docked, while I was cooking, its wake rocking me uncomfortably, before it disgorged its binocular clad visitors some 400 yards away. Within minutes they were climbing the concrete pathways to the various perches to spy on the varied nature.

Equinox is equipped with dodgers; these functional cloth arrangements use the safety-rails to provide a wind-break for the crew, useful pockets and a place for the boat’s name to be emblazoned. They also screen the occupants from inquisitive eyes when either sitting or eating – from the shoulders down. Not for one moment did I think I would be visible from the shore. So, settling down to eat, I casually looked up from time to time to see the twitcher’s progress up the 245ft high cliff. My breakfast was delicious, the bacon cooked, just so, the eggs prefect and the tomatoes piping hot but still complete within their unbroken skins.

The incident took place while I was looking up at the toiling climbers, in that a tomato skidded from my plate into my lap, having been cued off in a sorry attempt to cut a wedge off my fried bread. Fortunately for me, the tomato was captured quickly. Sitting like a solitary red egg in a hairy nest, it failed to touch the nearby sensitive skin; thus giving me time to consider the numerous options. I settled on my preferred one fast... just in case. By standing up and using my knife, I coaxed the tomato out of its resting place back to its rightful spot next to the remaining fried egg . Sitting down again, I looked up to see a lady spying me through huge binoculars, some 190ft above my head and some 300 yards away. The lady lowered her glasses and turning to her partner said something to him... which I can only guess to be. ‘Derek, would you believe that man on the boat down there has just cut off the end of his own willy and is eating it!’ In response, he immediately tuned his equally large binoculars on me! I gave my predicament some thought for a moment and then still sitting and thus partly hidden, placed my left foot on top of the dodger; and pretended to hack into it with knife and fork! I can only guess what he told the others!

Re-togged to spare the voyeurs, the sail to Clovelly was perfect. A steady 9-10 knot westerly set in soon after casting off from one of the very impressive visitor’s buoys and within minutes; and out of the lee of the island, we were scudding along at a brisk 5 knots under full topsail rig and a following sea. Half way back to the mainland a single porpoise passed me by, at an even brisker pace, and for the next ten minutes I pondered on versions of ’A pilot passaging past Portsmouth, Portland, Penzance and Padstow purveyed Patrick the porpoise passed portside purposefully, proving porpoises with a purpose can pass portside without pausing or permission!’ You get the drift!

It’s what cannibal yachtsmen do to fill in the hours!

With growing confidence and my destination in sight, albeit some 12 miles away, I’ve taken to switching off all the electronics, other than the VHF radio, to save battery life. I take half-hourly bearings on visible and obvious landmarks and plot my position directly onto the relevant chart in pencil... just in case! So should something go horribly wrong I’ll have my approximate Lat and Long position to relay over the radio to the Coastguard. All well and good I hear you say, but the thought occurred to me, that if I came to a sticky end ....perhaps wrecked on a well-charted hazard, what would the inscription be on my tombstone?

‘Here lies, turned off for ever, Simon D’Arcy, born 22 May 1951 as was his GPS and Chartplotter on June 25th 2010. May he rest in peace the silly sod!’

Sums it up nicely, don’t you think?
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