How did I get here?

My journey to the water began long before my moment of revelation on the beach in Greece last year, where I sat on a concrete outcrop over looking the sea, then lay down in the soft sand to sleep, the waves lapping just a metre from my feet. That moment that I decided to return to the uk, buy a boat and become a live aboard. Back in 1989 when I was 20 years old I was fortunate enough to make an ocean passage from the Azores, a small group of islands in the North Atlantic to Falmouth on a small ketch. I remember huge swells and being cold and wet the whole time. I was a passenger, 12 days at sea and it was an experience that stayed with me. I remember stumbling onto the harbour at Falmouth, my landlegs had disappeared, sitting in a pub whilst everything was rocking and swaying, then getting drunk with my German crewmate and trying to cadge a ride back to the boat with a guy in his fishing boat, which was well and truly grounded in the mud at low water. 

I was offered free passage to the Caribbean from the skipper of the yacht but I turned north and headed back to my hometown in Somerset.  20 years passed and I found myself reading a book by Tony Bullimore that I bought in a charity shop. He had the misfortune to lose his keel and become stranded in the Southern Ocean in a round the world solo race. I then read about the 1979 fastnet tragedy when a number of lives were lost in a stormy race at sea in the uk. Then came A Voyage for Madmen, the account of the 1968 Sunday Times Golden Globe Race, where 9 loan yachtsmen set out to circumnavigate the world, and only one completed the prescribed course. 

This of course led me to Bernard Moitessier, the French yachtsman who forfeited fame fortune and glory, who only ever felt happy at sea. Something about these men and this way of life intrigued me, and something about sailing was always a part of me, from that first and only voyage, a seed was planted that took another 28 years to germinate and spring. As much as anything, I found that the lifestyle appealed. I realised that most of these guys who went to sea were constantly fixing stuff and making repairs and improvisations. Being independent and self supporting, tough yet humbled by the elements, a close union with the divine, these elements felt like things I could resonate with and make a way of life. When I first stepped aboard my boat, Aisling, I knew she was the one and that we would sail together. When I left the pontoon in my dinghy and immediately lost control, I had to be rescued, I knew that I was in for a challenge. When I conquered my fear of rowing across the Tamar in a rough and windy spot, I began to feel the confidence and excitement creeping in. When I first cast off the mooring and trundled off down the river I felt disbelieving and humbled. At Cargreen I put the sails up and bobbed along, then hurriedly lowered them when the wind started to gust, and scampered back up the river with a stress related headache! The first time in the sea, bobbing up and down, the first time in a force 5/6 out past the Breakwater, terrified and sobered. I have learned so much, had so much help, read books, watched videos, tried things out, made stupid mistakes, run aground twice, but never yet hit another boat, although it has been close at times! This summer saw me and my friend and sailing teacher Jeremy, travel up through the arduous Celtic sea, onwards up to Scotland, the Isle of Harris. I sailed on alone, clockwise around Britain and made it back to Weir Quay, tired but jubilant. And now, the world! First leg from Plymouth to Brazil. It should take about 40 days. Sometimes I feel sick with nerves and other times excited as hell. I leave plymouth knowing I have a fine and sound vessel, and knowing I have so much to learn. Getting to the start line has been tough going at times but it's gone well. I constantly feel the love and support of friends which sometimes keeps me going on my flat spots. A voyage into the unknown, in so many senses, that sometimes I can barely comprehend. I go forth, knowing that others have gone before me, with hope, faith and courage, that I may dare to live my dreams.