For the first few hours the wind was blowing at just over 20 knots. We were heeling over nicely as we sailed close hauled under full canvas. I just love it when the toe rail (or in this case the side deck) goes under water as the boat heels and drives it’s way through the oncoming waves. Sometimes the bow would dig in and spray would cascade over the deck and into the cockpit – fantastic!

In the afternoon we found ourselves only a couple of hours from Piel Island. I’ve anchored there before and it offers good shelter, so we decided to head over, chuck out the anchor and have a bite to eat. The trouble with stopping and climbing out of your wet Oil Skins is that it’s hard to get going again. But to make it back to Fleetwood in time for the lock gate opening we had to get a move on.

Whilst we were at anchor, the wind had picked up. To leave Piel you have to sail up a buoyed channel. You must avoid the temptation to cut the corner because the sea is very shallow on either side – Morecambe Bay dries out at low tide. The wind was on the nose so we had to motor against nearly 30 knots of wind to the fairway buoy – It took an hour to motor 2 miles!

At last we were able to bare away and hoist the sails. With the wind on our beam our speed picked up instantly and we were flying. In no time at all the fairway marker which took us so long to get to had long gone. We were surfing in waves of 3 and 4 meters and with the wind at nearly 30 knots, Ragamuffin came alive! Richard and I could not stop smiling.

I find it frustrating sometimes that I don’t live near the coast. I can’t just jump on the boat when the wind is right. But now and again I hit it just perfect, like today. I live for days like these, the joy just fills me up I’m fit to burst! At one point I forgot Richard was there and I was caught red handed patting the boat! I think I even said “good girl Ragamuffin” – a bit embarrassing, but I don’t care.  I love my little boat and on days like this, I’m reminded exactly why.

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The plan was to sail to the Isle of Man then over to Ireland the next day. Although the Isle of Man is less than 60 miles away, it did feel like I was going on a proper little adventure. Ragamuffin is an old girl and not terribly quick so although I wasn’t going very far in miles, I knew with the forecast of light winds it was probably going to take a long time to get there.

It was a good start. Half an hour into the journey I was greeted by 2 dolphins. It was the first time I’ve ever seen them locally – a good omen I thought. There was just about enough wind to sail and I soon got into the routine of single handed sailing.

About halfway the weather forecast came over the VHF for the following day. The wind forecast had been upgraded to gale force. This was a bit of a blow because it could scupper my sail to Ireland. It’s one thing to get caught out in such conditions but to set off knowing it’s going to get nasty, in a small boat that was not designed for such weather, is pretty stupid. 11 hours later at around Midnight, I finally docked at Douglas Marina and tucked myself into my sleeping bag.

The next day was grey and wet. Not much sign of the gales either. In fact for a while I was tempted to try and hit the next tide and make a dash for Ireland – but I thought better of it. With hindsight I wish I had. The wind never did pick up and I was sat like a lemon all day, in my cabin waiting for it to stop raining. I eventually ventured out for a soggy walk around town and decided to pick up some sausages and bacon to help moral (I usually just eat the freeze dried stuff when sailing).

That evening, I decided to do a few checks on the boat for something to do. And believe it or not I was delighted to see that tr-colour NAV light on top of the mast was not working – great, a job to occupy my mind tomorrow!

I awoke the next morning with the wind howling through the rigging – the gales had finally arrived which meant I wasn’t going anywhere. So I took my time getting up and fried up some smoked bacon – that did the trick.  I had to think about what I was going to do next if the winds calmed down later. If I could make the morning tide I would head out for Ireland, but if I could only make the 2nd tide at around midnight I would head back home – having lost 2 days and I was running out of time. The forecast came through and the gales were to persist until that evening. That’s it, I was staying put.

I did a bit of reading, then decided to fix the tri-colour light. Hoping not to have to go up the mast, I took my volt meter and set about finding the fault. It turned out to be a dirty connection at the base of the mast. After the nav light was fixed I checked the rest of the lights – now the stern light wasn’t working! This was mad, they all worked when I set off.  I fixed the stern light and messed around for the rest of the day.

The forecast overnight was a north westerly force 4 – perfect. I would set off back to Fleetwood just before midnight.  I bagged a few hours sleep after dinner and set the alarm to wake me up an hour before I had to cast off. I ran the engine for a time to charge the batteries and did a final check on the boat. I could hardly believe it, the starboard nav light was out! In my frustration I thumped it with my fist – and as if by magic it lit up.

A few miles out of the marina the swell was still big from the gales, but the wind was but a whisper. Thinking that I was just being sheltered by the Isle of Man I motored on hoping the wind would pick up – it never really did. In fact what little wind there eventually dropped to zero. With a big swell and no wind, Ragamuffin wallowed around uncomfortably. The force of the wind in the sails steady’s a boat better than the engine.

It was a lovely clear night, the moon was just about full and the stars were clear. I love sailing at night. As dawn broke I was feeling pretty tired so I took short sleeps of about 15 minutes each time.  In between I would poke my head out of the cabin and make sure I wasn’t going to hit anything before taking another nap. It’s amazing how you can train yourself to turn sleep on and off like that.

I tied up at Fleetwood just before lunch. I was massively disapointed I couldn’t sail all the way back and had to use the engine – for a sailor, no wind is far worse than too much wind.  I don’t want to sound like a ‘glass half empty’ kind of a guy but although I enjoyed the sail, I didn’t get any proper sense of satisfaction. It was fun, but by no means a challenge. Ocean sailing and long haul passages is what I crave and what I continue to strive for.

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My Wife, Fiona dropped me off at Southampton and I took the fast ferry over to Cowes on the Isle of White. I had arranged to thumb a lift back to Dorset with Steve White on his Open 60 race yacht ‘Toe In The Water’ from Cowes later that afternoon. This left me with a bit of time to have a quick look around the events going on at the regatta.

I’ve not been to Cowes Week regatta before and the first thing that struck me was the sheer number of boats crowded into the Solent. Don’t get me wrong, I expected to see a huge amount of boats, but to see it with my own eyes was incredible. I really really must move down there as soon as possible.

I was told I would be picked up by a rib at the Artemis Ocean Racing hospitality tent and be taken out to Steve’s boat. I couldn’t find the Artemis tent and ended up walking the full length of the promenade and back trying to find it – it was right next to the ferry terminal!  But it was a welcome diversion because I came across a marquee selling fresh seafood Paella. I swear it was the best thing I’ve tasted for ages. I really want to tell you all where you can get one,- it was that good, but I can’t remember the name of the restaurant who made it!  It was near where the America’s Cup was on display if anyone wants to chip in.

I eventually found the Artemis tent, you had to walk through someone’s garden to get to it!  The people at OC Group and Artemis were very accommodating. I must admit, when I crawled out of my cold wet tent that morning, I wasn’t expecting to be drinking Champagne and eating nibbles in a nice hospitality tent over looking the Solent later that day.

A little while later, the rib arrived to take me out to Steve’s boat. Honestly, it was worth the trip to Cowes just for that. If anyone hasn’t been at full chat on a rib before, then you’ve not lived – I want one! We saw the huge main sail on Steve’s boat beyond the 100′s of other boats and quickly made our way over. It was then I suddenly thought, how the hec am I going to climb from one moving boat to another moving boat, I’m not exactly built for this task.  I thought something’s going to go splash… that something being me. In the end I don’t even know how I did it, only that I seemed to hold on tosome dignity during the process which is a bonus.

It was good to be back on Steve’s Open 60 (3rd time now…luck boy!). The number of boats in the Solent had dwindled a little but there was still a lot of traffic to thread our way through. The wind was also coming from the direction we wanted to travel, which meant a lot of tacking. This continued until we reached The Needles, which was the last bit of landfall of the Isle of White. Now were were in the open English Channel and we could do longer stretches between tacks. Heeled over, the guardrail partly submersed it was exciting stuff. I took a peek over the windward side and I could see the keel just under the water.

She really is a beautiful boat and it always feels like such a privilege to sail on her. After all she’s not just any boat, she took Steve on what was his biggest adventure of a lifetime (so far), around the world non-stop and she kept him safe for all those miles. I’ve done very little by comparison in my little Hurley, but I love my boat. Most sailors would admit to strong bonds with their boats, which is perhaps hard for non-sailors to understand. I can only imagine what Steve and his boat have been through and I have the utmost respect for them both.

I eventually crawled into my tent at 3am. I tried to climb in without waking anyone one up. But in the dark and my confusion over which bit of the tent I was supposed to occupy, I think I sat on my wife’s head – which didn’t go down amazingly well. However, the concussion seems to have made her forget so it turned out well in the end.

Cheers, Julian

PS: This winter Steve White will take on the toughest challenge in sailing when he attempts to break the Solo Non-Stop Round the World record sailing Westabout “the wrong way round”, against the prevailing winds and currents. It really is sterling stuff whether you like sailing or not.

You can read about Steve’s Westabout challenge here.
And watch his video here.

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

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 whiteoceanracing.com.

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

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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.