By way of a thank you, I arranged to take them sailing over to the Isle Of Man the day after the launch. Unfortunately I can’t control the weather and we found ourselves with very little wind and by the end of the afternoon we were becalmed. The port we were heading to on the Isle of Man has an entrance which only opens between certain hours around high tide. With the lack of wind it was obvious we were not going to make it in time before the gate shut, even if the wind picked up. We’d still had a good time with plenty of laughs, so we decided to head back home.

With the wind due to pick up soon, we decided it was the time for something to eat – tinned curry. I’m sure tinned curry would taste horrible at home, but somehow on a boat just about anything that is hot and filling tastes wonderful. Then sure enough, half way through tucking into Chicken Tikka Masala the wind picked up which meant one hand on the tiller and the other hand on the fork – time for the auto pilot.

The forecast was for an “occasional force 6″. I’m not sure which page the weatherman was reading from but pretty soon is was consistently blowing a force 7 and a short time after that we were having gusts at 55 knots. I’ve only sailed bigger boats in winds like these, so my heart was pumping a bit fast. She might not be a Class40 but for a small boat, ‘Ragamuffin’ was quite composed. And apart from a good drenching, I enjoyed it.

I’ll just finish by giving a huge pat on the back to Richard. It was only his second sail and although it was as rough as hell and at night, he remains keen to go sailing again (despite being hit in the face by a flying grill pan!). Nice one Richard.

Cheers, Julian

Tempting though it was to hibernate over Winter, I’ve actually been very busy. Busy doing what? you may ask. Well a lot of head scratching mainly. Nothing to do with creepy crawly’s I might add, but trying to decide what to do next about my dream to sail solo across the Atlantic.

It’s been a real tussle if I’m honest. It has been wizzing round my mind constantly, day and night. I found myself being so consumed by the whole thing that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.  A few weeks ago I was driving home from work whilst thinking hard about my sailing campaign.  Embarrassingly, I sat in my car at the traffic lights, with a dozen or so cars behind me sounding their horns because I hadn’t noticed the lights turn green. My multitasking skills appear somewhat lacking. It’s just as well I settled on a plan otherwise it wouldn’t have been long before I left for work without trousers or something.

So in the end I put aside the months of cogitating, ruminating and deliberating and decided on the way forward by what felt right – the trusty gut instinct. So that said, I’m announcing my desire to compete in the ‘Artemis Transat‘ in 2012.  This is a single handed transatlantic yacht race from Plymouth England, to Boston USA. The plan is to do a programme of training and as many races I as I can fit in to prepare for the Artemis Transat. This will satisfy my competitive nature and my dream of a solo sail across the Atlantic at the same time. Also I think my options of what to do next will have wider scope.

I still need a sponsor for all this to become a reality and for a while now I’ve been busy putting together and distributing my sponsorship proposal. I have nothing to report on this front just yet but as soon as I have a solid announcement to make, I shall be sure to let you know.

Best wishes, Julian

PS: I’ve been dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century with a Facebook and Twitter page. Please feel free to join up and follow my mutterings on these websites, it would be great to see you there.

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

Steve lives a good 6 hours from me so If I was going I needed to go now. My boss at work was brilliant and allowed me to take the rest of the week off immediately. So I quickly dashed home to pick up my things and before I knew it I was on my way to the south coast.

I arrived at Steve’s house after a long drive through some nasty weather. I was really tired and beginning to wonder if I was going to be able to stay awake for much longer. A short time later we were at the marina but with over 40 knots of wind it was going to be very difficult to leave the pontoon without damaging the boat. So we waited until morning before attempting to leave. I must admit I was glad about that decision because I was so tired from the long drive that there was a good chance of me sleeping through the entire sail across the channel and missing everything.

Early the next morning however, we were under way. Once we left the shelter the land the wind picked up to force 8 and it stayed like that for the 120 miles across the Channel. Now I’ve been privileged enough to have sailed with Steve on board ‘Toe In The Water’ before and that was impressive. But in gale force winds this Open 60 really does comes into her own. I have to say that I wouldn’t have missed this experience for the world. It was just like you see in video footage from the Vendee Globe with the rough seas, spray cascading over the decks and whizzing along at over 20 knots. I realise that Steve has seen much worse conditions than this – or “better” conditions depending on how you view things – and I’m sure he doesn’t give them a second thought, but this was proper exciting stuff for me.  The waves were about the biggest I have seen but I was amazed how ‘Toe In The Water’ seemed to iron out the bumps. OK, it might have been a different story had we been sailing into the wind, but the whole experience was brilliant. After a short time I was wishing for even bigger waves but it was all over too quickly as we arrived in France later that afternoon.

The next day however, there was still plenty to do. I spent the second day helping Steve to prepare ‘Toe In The Water’ so she could be lifted out of the water. I actually quite enjoyed this, it was a really good way to get to know the boat. As Steve’s Open 60 was to remain in the boatyard for a while we packed up and took the overnight ferry back to the UK. After a short stop at Steve and Kim’s for bite to eat and some very welcome sandwiches for the drive home (thanks Kim!), I was on my way home after an excellent couple of days.

To get the latest news on Steve White you can visit his website at whiteoceanracing.com

PS: My camera got a real drenching and broke, hence the flaky photos from my camera phone!

We met at the marina at about midday.  Steve and I walked to the boat to get her set up whilst my wife, Fiona and daughter Megan went with Kim to get a bite to eat.  There is a fair bit to do to get ‘Toe In the Water‘ ready for sailing, but it gave me a chance to have a good look around.  It was the first time I’ve seen an Open60 in the flesh and she didn’t disappoint.  She’s a beautiful boat and looks fast even when she’s stood still.

Soon enough we were ready to cast off.  We slipped the lines and were on our way.  As soon as we were in clear water we hoisted the Mainsaill and the Gennaker and we were away. I’ve never seen anything like it, the boat just took off.  I looked over the stern and it was like the parting of the red sea.

Now at this point I was told we had broached.  You would imagine that I would realise we had broached, so I may sound a bit dumb when I say that i hadn’t realised this at all.  Sure enough the boat was heeled right over and it did look like an awful long way down to the low side but I guess ignorance is bliss.  But I’ve not sailed an Open 60 before and so I just thought it was normal, besides, Steve looked calm enough so I was happy. Steve filled the ballast tanks and ‘Toe In the Water‘ was skimming across the water like a dream.

I then took the helm for a while.  I must admit I didn’t do too well at first I just couldn’t get the balance right. I went from sailing too high to too low, over powering the sails then almost stalling then back to over powering again.  Steve did say the tolerances worked within very small margins which is why I might be struggling.  However on the way back I did get the hang of it..

It was the most amazing afternoon’s sailing for me.  It was such a wonderful privilege and I am so grateful to Steve and Kim for the fantastic opportunity. I can’t finish without mentioning the man himself.  Steve White is modest with not even a whiff of ego. But then he has nothing to prove, his achievements speak for themselves. Steve and his wife, Kim have successfully managed a sterling offshore racing career culminating, so far, in an 8th place out of 30 competitors in the recent Vendée Globe. I have no doubt that Steve will do even better in the next Vendée Globe in 2012. So Steve, Kim a big thank you from us for a fantastic experience.

If you want to know more about Steve White and follow his race campaign please visit the whiteoceanracing.com website.

There was plenty of breeze for once, somewhere between 15 to 20 knots and the waves were just big enough for me to get nice and wet.  I got my first dousing just as I was beginning to think it was time I wore my oilies – I didn’t bother after that as there wasn’t much point.

I also got a visit from a passing lifeboat too.  They came along side and said hello before disappearing off into the distance. I did wonder for a while why they were making there way towards me, but I guess I must have looked like I knew what I was doing because they didn’t stick around for long.

I had a bit of an issue with my tiller pilot though.  Sailing close hauled everything worked fine, but when the wind backed and I was sailing on a beam reach, Ragamuffin wanted to turn into the wind and the pilot just couldn’t cope.  I tried every trick I know to lose the weather helm but I just couldn’t balance the boat at all.  I really need to get this sorted because it means I can’t leave the pilot to steer while I take a snooze or put the kettle on.  It seems mad to let the boat go the wrong way whilst I perform my galley duties.

I said at the beginning that I was pleased with the way things were on the day.  Well that’s true to a point, but in the back of my mind for the whole day I was worried about how I would cope when it came to parking the boat in the marina. My disability definitely has more of an effect when it comes to leaping over guardrails – I don’t do leaping.  Sure enough I made a real mess of it.  I found it impossible to bring Ragamuffin up to the pontoon and jump off in time. Before I could make it she had drifted a good few feet away again.  I would have been there all night had it not been for a lovely couple who saw I was having dificulty and grabbed my lines.  I’m not sure what to do about this, but I would rather be self sufficient and not rely on the possibility of someone being on the pontoon.  Anyway, I’ve no doubt I will think of something.

That said, it was still an excellent day and I loved it.  I can really feel my confidence growing and i’m now especially looking forward to the next time out at sea.

Cheers, Julian

[pro-player]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHOtGjH3K1U[/pro-player]

]]> http://julianmegson.com/blog/2009/07/22/my-first-single-handed-sail/feed/ 0 http://julianmegson.com/blog/2009/06/13/azores-to-portsmouth-back-home/ http://julianmegson.com/blog/2009/06/13/azores-to-portsmouth-back-home/#comments Sat, 13 Jun 2009 13:21:32 +0000 Julian http://julianmegson.com/blog/?p=393 It’s been almost a week since we, on board Spirit of Isis, landed at Portsmouth.  With a full week of being back at work also behind me, I think it is high time to reflect on my 8 days at sea in the Atlantic Ocean.

Leaving Horta - Photo by Peter Harries

We cast off from Horta on Friday lunch time after a couple of days of site seeing and bonding with my fellow sailors.  There were 11 crew aboard Spirit of Isis.  It was kind of weird because someone suddenly made the decision to go and moments later we were on our way.

The first day on board was spent relaxing and enjoying the sense of beginning a big adventure before eventually settling down into the ‘watch’ routine of 3 hours on, 6 hours off.  As soon as the Watch rota started, those people not on Watch disappeared to their bunks.  I remember making the comment “why would anyone want to sleep?”.  I would be eating my words later that week.

We sailed into the wind the whole way and therefore heeled far over and pounded into waves.  This was thrilling sailing but made getting around the boat quite testing but also fun.  I remembered checking out the grab handles below deck prior to casting off and thinking that important manoeuvres to the whisky cabinet (joking) shouldn’t be a problem.  How wrong was I?  The grab handles might as well been a mile apart.  I’m used to small boats where everything is to hand. I often laughed out loud at how simple things were taking so much effort.

Splashdown in the Atlantic - Photo by Peter Harries

The next day was just awful.  I’ve had sea sickness before, but I can usually work through it and recover after a matter of hours.  This day however was a lot different, I felt dreadful and was as sick as a dog.  In fact it got so bad that I was begging for someone to kill me – death feeling like the preferred option.  Somehow I managed to work through most of my time on Watch but even being above deck didn’t fix it.

The next day I felt a lot better and was able to function normally. But I must admit the events of the day before were never far from mind.  The fear of the seasickness recurring kind of dominated for a while but the longer I continued the more confident I got of being over it.

During each watch I spent an hour at the helm.  This was usually accompanied by a big smile from ear to ear.  I loved it because I was in control and it also gave the best view of the boat.  I’ve never been on such a big yacht before (65 foot) so to watch the horizon disappearing below the bow followed by the cascade of water as the bow crashed into the waves was just the best.  At times I would make my way to the bow, (clipped on of course) and peer over the edge to get a good view of bow pounding through the waves.

Julian at the helm

It’s clear from my disability that I’m less steady on my feet than most other people but I think I manage pretty well.  If it is a struggle to remain upright then I am prepared to cast aside any dignity and use ‘all fours’ to ensure that I am steady and safe.  After venturing around the deck, I could see from the look of relief on some peoples faces when I made it back to the cockpit alive!  I was half tempted to fake a wobble now and again for fun but I thought that would be a bit mean.  Plus knowing my luck I would end up facilitating a man over board procedure which would have served me right I guess.

About halfway through the week the wind softened and the sun came out which meant progress was slow.  But that didn’t matter this day because it was beautiful.  The sea changed colour from grey to royal blue.  Everyone was on deck for a change. The highlight of that day undoubtedly for me was seeing Dolphins and then sighting a Whale…oh, and the only shower of the week.

Sunset in the Atlantic - Photo by Peter Harris

The next day everything returned to normal.  The wind picked up and was on the nose.  Progress was good and we were leaving the other boats behind in our wake.  You might think that being at sea that the view would remain the same.  Not so, the view at sea is ever changing and diverse.  One thing that struck me is that the mood of the sea, the weather and colours can change hourly.  God’s palette is quite something.

I can’t go on without mentioning a our stowaway, Percy.  Percy is a Pigeon who decided to hitch a lift. He was a sociable little fella and was a big fan of my breakfast cereal bars.  He stuck around for a couple of days before eventually being blown off deck!  After many failed attempts to get back on the boat he eventually gave up and carried on his way.  I quite missed him when he went away.

"Percy" the racing pigeon hitching a lift - photo by Peter Harries

The beginning of the end of the journey was when we headed east towards the English Channel.  This is when conditions got really exciting.  I’m not going to estimate the size of the waves but about one in every 10 was a real beauty.  Standing at the helm was a real challenge. When a big wave came it looked like we were heading into orbit as the bow was lifted high out of the water.  I tried to bare away to ease the slamming but it seemed to make little difference.  I felt sorry for the poor souls down below trying to get some sleep.

On arrivnig at Portsmouth the mood was that of excitement for most.  I wasn’t sure how I would feel.  I was looking forward to seeing my family but I also didn’t want it to be over.  As we tied up at the pontoon and as everyone was celebrating with there families I suddenly came over very sad.  I even had a small tear in my eye.  Even now I don’t know what triggered this.  It may have partly been that my Wife and Daughter were not there to meet me (It was 3am and I had called them a few hours earlier and told them not to come as I didn’t think it fair to get my young daughter out of bed).  The other reason I guess is because suddenly it was all over.

'Spirit of Isis' in Portsmouth - photo by Peter Harries

I can honestly say that I will never forget this journey. Mainly thaty it confirmed in my mind that more than ever I know I want to sail the Atlantic single handed and that I really believe I can do it.  Although I feel that I achieved something the fact remains that even if I had played no part at all, the boat would have still made it back to Portsmouth.  I’m not in any way undermining the achievements of my colleagues onboard, far from it.  But for me, I need to acheive the Transatlantic crossing single handed where the sole responsibility of bringing the boat home is mine alone.

PS:  Having managed to avoid injury for the whole trip, moments after tieing up in Portsmouth I bashed my nose on one of the upper bunk – small cut, lots of blood.  My legs hadn’t caught up with the fact the boat was now flat and no longer bouncing up and down. What a plonker!

Big thanks to Peter Harries for allowing me to use his photos which are way better then mine.  You can see the rest of his album from Horta and the ‘Spirit of Isis’ at this link here.

BTW: At Lisbon Airport I had the shortest bus ride ever.  There were 2 buses at our boarding gate and after about 15 minutes both busses were full – and I mean we were crammed in like sardines.  Anyway, the bus set off and and 50 meters later it stopped right outside our plane!  I’m guessing but it took around 15 seconds.  Mad!

So with just a few hours sleep, taken at intervals during the day, we finally arrived in Horta at around 2pm.  There were about 10 people arriving on the same flight, due to do the the same sail to Portsmouth so we all shared some taxis to the Marina.  Our taxi driver thought he was Michael Schumacher with some pretty impressive cornering on the narrow roads.  But he did drop us off right next to the fleet of Ondeck’s Farr 65 yachts which was really handy because my rucksack weighs in at around a tonne (ish).

I spent the remainder of the first day getting to know the crew, most of which was spent a Peter Cafe Sport (typical Brit abroad – head straight for the pub).  But it was worth the hardship because we all bonded really well, they are a nice bunch with a real mix of exprerience from total beginners to those doing their Yachtmaster exams.

Today (Thursday), I’ve mostly been doing some sight seeing around Horta (thanks for the map Kathie!).  I haven’t done as much as I would have hoped but time is short.  I’m trying to balance sight seeing with spending time with the crew.

I wouldn’t be a proper English man if I didn’t talk about the weather.  So here is the the current synopsis:  Wet.

We cast off on Friday 29 May and I think this is going to be my last blog entry before we reach Portsmouth because I think using the satelite link is going to be very limited.  If I do get a chance however, I will make sure I take it.

PS:  I now know which boat I will be sailing on.  She is the ‘Spirit of Isis’.  You can follow my progress on this chart.

If you are not my Wife and Daughter please look away now but I’m really missing you both a lot and I think of you all the time.

So my bag is (just about) packed and I’m almost ready to go. I would probably have been ready a lot earlier if I hadn’t kept unpacking things to make sure I have everything. I guess that’s why lists were invented, anyway its a bit late now to have that bright idea.

This voyage is a charter organised by Ondeck who are providing four ‘Farr 65′ yachts which will be raced by a number of professional and amateur crew to Portsmouth. I don’t know which boat I will be sailing on as places don’t get allocated until we arrive in Horta.

If you do want to follow my progress then you can do the following;

1. Check which boat I am sailing on.  You can do that by looking at the crewlist for leg 2.
2. Check my current position on this map

I’m not sure if I will be able to update my blog whilst on the boat, but if that is possible be sure that I will be sending updates as often as I can.

Oilies on and farewells said, we motored out of Bangor and in to the Menai Straits towards our first waypoint, Puffin Island.  We were away!

Twilight in the Irish Sea

It didn’t take long to get settled in and it certainly didn’t feel like months had passed since I was last on a boat.  I was feeling right at home.  Once we were out of the Menai Straits and passed Puffin Island we hoisted the sails and for the first time we were under way without the engine ringing on our ears.  It was then that it all came back to me.  That wonderful silence after the engine has been shut off and the amazing feeling of being pushed along purely by the wind.  Ragamuffin heeled over a little, tightened up and she began to push through the sea.  It wasn’t exactly a white knuckle ride, just gently does it as there wasn’t much wind.  But for me it was a marvelous feeling.

Unfortunately, what little wind there was didn’t last long.  To reach Fleetwood in time for high tide the next day, we had to make an average of 3 knots.  This should have been easy but with no wind at all we were getting nowhere.  So we started the engine and probably motored for around 7 hours before eventually the wind picked up and we could finally make way and switch the engine off again.  It was not a moment too soon either.  As pleased as I was with the performance of the engine and its amazing fuel efficiency – it was doing my head in!

As it started to get dark we decided it was good practice to take in a reef just in case it began to blow a hoolie during the night.  Funds haven’t yet allowed for the equipment I need to run the mainsail halyard and reefing lines back to the cockpit, so trimming the mainsail means I have to climb on to the coach roof.  Although I do manage this task ok, I have to accept that I would be more at risk than someone who doesn’t have difficulty with their legs.  So because of this I prefer to try and avoid that risk at night during my watch.  Anyway, this particular night, taking in a reef turned out to be completely unnecessary because the wind barely got above a gentle breeze.

Then whole trip was memorable but two things in particular will stick in my mind.  The first was the bitter cold temperature during the night.  I can’t remember ever being that cold.  Although it probably wasn’t really too bad, I think the lack of sleep made it appear much worse.  I only had about 1 or 2 hours sleep in 36 hours which I know is ridiculous, but I had waited over 8 months to sail Ragamuffin and no way was I going to waste this time by being asleep.

Julian aboard Ragamuffin

The second moment I will remember was off the coast of Liverpool, again in the middle of the night. We could see lots of big boats anchored in the distance waiting for enough tide to get up the River Mersey. Duncan and I were practicing our RYA training and identifying ships by their arrangement of lights.  A second later, Duncan told me to look over my shoulder.  I nearly choked on my coffee.  About 300 yards away, there loomed this colossal tanker!  Thank goodness it was on a parallel course and moving slowly.  But I was stunned as to how silently and without notice it appeared.  I mean, how can something the size of a tower block sneak up on you like that!  All I will say is it was  a good job for us they they didn’t to turn to starboard.

Dawn broke, and we began to warm up a little.  We also had a reasonable amount of wind for once.  The motion of the boat however was very uncomfortable because of the confused sea state. I decided to shake out the reef and unfurl the genoa and the speed picked up.  This pretty much fixed the pitching and rolling.  We also decided we would have a bit of fun and try and get the toe rail in the water but there was not quite enough wind for that.

A few hours later we sighted Fleetwood.  We followed the Isle of Man ferry through the channel marker buoys (we thought it best to let it go first!).  When we reached the marina we were greated by some friends and family – a really nice surprise. They still had the same fresh faces as the day before, but unlike me, they had been to bed the night before.

I have really enjoyed my first sail in Ragamuffin and was sad  it was all over.   But, looking forward, its just the begining of some great adventures with her.

Here is some video of my maiden voyage in Ragamuffin.

Cheers, Julian

PS. I’m sorry for the long post. I just couldnt stop!

Ragamuffin being launched in Bangor, North Wales

Last Saturday 25 April, Ragamuffin finally hit the water for the first time since I bought her in August last year. For over 8 months we’ve been working to make her ship shape and for a long time it felt like this day was never going to come. But now it has. It was an awesome couple of days for me from launching Ragamuffin on the Saturday, to sailing her around the clock to my home port of Fleetwood, arriving on the Sunday.

We arrived at the Boat Yard in Bangor at about 9:30am and in time to do some final preparations before the launch at 11:30am. We had only been there 10 minutes when some guy came up to us and said we could go in the water now if we like. I wasn’t really ready for that to be honest and I went from feeling quite calm to full on panick stations. But as we had a long sail back to Fleetwood, we thought it was better to be in the water sooner rather than later.

Before I knew it, 2 men had removed the two forward oil drums that were holding Ragamuffin upright – leaving only 2 drums either side of the stern – and they reversed in with a tractor and hydraulic trailor. In no time at all, Ragamuffin was on her way through the boat yard to the waters edge to be next in the queue to go into the slings. I didn’t really know what to expect because I’ve never done this before, but I imagined it was going to be some huge operation to get her in the water. The whole thing left me a little stunned. I just about had enough time to slap some antifoul on the areas where the oil drums had been before she was loaded into the slings and chucked in the water.

First job was to have a good look around for any leaks and to make sure the engine was running and cooling properly, then the slings were released. We tied up around the corner whilst we got ourselves prepared and to give my family, who had driven down to watch the launch, a chance to have a good look around the boat – she’s only small, it didn’t take long.

My good friend Duncan had kindly offered to help sail Ragamuffin back to Fleetwood with me (not much arm twisting required). So once he and I had got ourselves organised, we jumped aboard, bid farewell to those who had travelled far to see us off (or to make sure we left!) and cast off for a 24 hour sail back to Fleetwood.

Part 2 coming soon…