Page 26 - Yachter Autumn 2021

26 CRUISING REPORTS
RIDING THE WAVES OF CHANGE
Who would not be affected to see a cleer and sweet River in the morning, grow a kennel of muddy land water by noone and condemned to the saltness of the sea by night?
John Donne, Devotions XVIII’
Beached, stranded and desolate at Abergele. With a stick in hand, shouting, screaming
her name, as ‘Mum’ was carved into the moist sand, moist with tears and salt, sea salt.
It was my 50th birthday, it was 4:00 in
the morning , a grey morning, in April. As midnight turned into the 18th, mum left the ‘party’, as I held her hand in the gloom of
a hospice room.Without knowing it, that’s where my ‘affair’ with sailing and the sea began, on that beach on the North Wales coast 13 years ago.
Next year I am planning to sail around Britain, probably solo, in Sea Wanderer, my 1986 Moody 31 MkII. So how are the 2 events connected?
An ‘activist’ by nature, seen as lively and
extrovert by others, after the death of my mother I became quiet, disengaged and morose for months. My wife, Amanda was worried.
A couple of years previously I had completed the RYA beginners dinghy course, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Amanda, in a moment (she has many) of inspiration, booked me onto a cross channel yacht training course. It really was an inspired decision.
Arriving at Royal Clarence, Gosport on August Bank Holiday 2008, I reflected that my Dad, having served in the Royal Navy throughout World War II, must have been there as a young man, all those years back.
I found Koru a Beneteau First 36, and was
welcomed aboard by the owner/instructor, Janine. Supper followed, a briefing and a declaration by each of the crew, as to what they wanted to achieve from the weekend. It was a mixed crew - ‘milebuilders’, people reinforcing skills in preparation for Yachtmaster, Day Skipper, and me, there for the ride!
We slid past Ark Royal in the grey of a Portsmouth dawn, and the most magnificent weekend I’d experienced for a very long time, began its assault on my senses. Across to Cherbourg I was beguiled and involved.
I was awake again, the sloth of the previous months, detonated by a riot of activity - helming, setting sails, looking out, learning the use of the handheld compass as we crossed the TSS. Completely absorbed by the spectacle, I enjoyed a wonderful weekend and was hooked.
Smitten by the sea, the relationship between human technology and natural forces, the camaraderie of a team working together, the challenge of navigation, and the patient, purposeful leadership of Janine, a magnificent instructor.
It turned out to be a ‘waypoint’ weekend - a ‘cardinal point’ that set me on a new course, taking me away from the rocks and whirlpools of grief and mourning. Once