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 9 July 2010

Neyland to Dale

Clear water in Neyland Marina gave me the chance to have a closer look at Equinox’s hull and prop from the pontoon. Not good! I’ve never seen her hull so fouled with billions of 3-4inch strands of very fine hair-like weed, despite the mullet grazing on it almost continuously. Barnacles cluster on the props brass hub and the first third of each blade.  I have no choice but to address this, as the engine gives little more than three knots before the prop starts cavitating – making manoeuvring in a marina difficult and certainly not enough oomph to tackle some of the obstacles on the Welsh coast ahead. Looking at the charts, Dale looked ideal. A shingle beech and excellent facilities at the nearby yacht club, a local pub and anchorage with plenty of visitors buoys; made it an easy choice.

A dreary drizzle set in as I left Neyland under sail, the 8nm sail took 4 hours, hampered by the garden I was dragging and variable to light winds coming from every direction as it bounced off the mighty tankers moored along mile after mile of Milford Haven’s numerous jetties. Halfway there and having just put a tack in, a powerful rib screamed out from under a concrete jetty and its wetsuit clad helmsman politely scolded me for getting within 100m of a gas terminal jetty, the bearded Duke of York look-alike, relaying the harbour master’s displeasure! Sorry your Royal Highness, it won’t happen again!

Arriving at Dale, two hours after high tide I quickly put on her beeching legs and motored cautiously towards the beech. Crunch! Landed! A kedge anchor lowered from the stern, some 80ft before grounding will hopefully help me haul her off later on or, prevent me being nudged further up the beech by wind and waves, if the weather deteriorates.

Eight hours of scrapping and scouring later and near exhaustion, I slumped into bed, hungry, rather evil smelling and itchy from being salty and wet; despite wearing wadders. Setting the alarm for 2:30 I dozed fitfully as Equinox had dried out at a jaunty angle and I need horizontal!

Silencing the alarm and boxer clad only with Equinox gently grinding on the shingle I left the warmth of my sleeping bag to face the drizzle and surprisingly warm wind to relocate her. Engine running, I hauled in the kedge, carried it up to the bow and tied it on; then motored out to an empty spot in the anchorage dumped the whole lot over the side while reversing. With anchor set and it’s GPS alarm on, I towelled down and crawled back into bed; warmer and less salty than before I started this odious task.

I slept well knowing it was a job well done! I can safley tackle the next leg to Fishguard – around Skomer Island, St Brides Bay and the Bishops and Clerks and Saint David’s head. There are shortcuts that could save many hours......but... I’m not sure I’m brave or experienced enough to take them on unaccompanied.
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