The British Channel and France (Part II) – Sailing from Ireland to the Mediterranean

Stuck alone in Falmouth for a week felt like holidays. Got to watch a gig at the marina pub with all the ladies dressed as pinups, would go for a run in the mornings and spend lazy days afloat while looking for crew online and preparing for the crossing. Also paid a visit to the legendary Chain Locker Pub for a Guinness and enjoyed the good weather.

Plenty rested, I was in the best mental and physical form of my life. Don’t click if you don’t want to see me shirtless. Constant work on the boat and a heavy anchor with no windlass helps keeping you fit.

Anyway, I was ready for the crossing and I had found crew!

Next Stop: Aber Wrac’h (France – Bretagne)

Mikhail (Russia) and Padraig (Ireland), two lads from the Irish Parachute Club where I used to jump, responded to the call and flew from Dublin to Falmouth specially for the 100nm crossing of the English Channel to Aber Wrac’h in France. These legends:

After a mandatory quick stop to eat some famous Cornish Pasties and Donuts (currently an Irish obsession) we headed out to sea.

The crossing was long, tiring and cold. We left at about 4pm from Falmouth to arrive on the next day before midday in France. The first 5 hours were great. Sailing wing on wing downwind followed by the largest pod of dolphins of the trip. The spirits were high! But then the sea starts to get into ones head (and stomach) and a crew was disabled. The next 3 hours must have been quite uncomfortable for one of the lads (I’ll give him anonymity by not telling which one haha). Throwing up and feeling very sea sick. The idea of sailing back wasn’t much of an option for the wind being dead on our transom. On top of that, he seemed very confident stating that he was fine and he could handle that. Remember folks, these guys jump out of airplanes for fun on a weekly basis in northern weather. They can handle shit! He laid down asleep for the next hours while myself and the other crew would take turns steering on a very cold night loaded on coffee. It was 1 am when he raised out from his seasickness trip, fresh as it never happened! Took over the night’s watch and gave us needed time to rest and warm a bit.

The English channel is the busiest shipping area in the world. One of my main concerns at the time was to be mindful of the TSS (Traffic Separation Scheme) which is a sort of traffic lane that you are meant to cross on a 90 degree angle at constant speed. Just like crossing a street. Since my boat was equipped with an AIS transceiver, I was way more confident and safe knowing that I could see the big ships and they could see me on the chart plotter. No radio calls were needed and the ships would just slightly adjust their courses to avoid a collision with my boat.

Take a look at the live map of the channel and how busy it is:

You can also check Neverland’s live position here by the way!

Land Ahoy!

The sun came up and so the land! We finished our crossing, hailed the marina on the radio and got us a berth. Quick shower and a stop at the Cafe du Port for a croissant and cafe au lait (Padraig ordered with his best accent). Mikhail also found a random commie shirt on the rack of clothes for sale and bough it as souvenir. It was funny to see the guys feeling “trippy” back on land. “Why is everything moving?” they would ask haha. Some people get affected by this and everything seems to be moving despite being perfectly still on solid ground. Disembarkation sickness…

After breakfast we found ourselves on a mission to hail a very expensive taxi in a hurry to Brest where the guys would catch a train to Rennes and then fly back to Dublin. Kudos to Padraig for calling the taxi contact we got in french! Oui!

Already in Brest, we found a Moroccan restaurant near the train station, the only place open that would still serve us food (more on French and Spanish working hours later), then the guys hopped on the train off to Rennes. Big hug, au revoir and back to the Marina.

Padraig made this great video edit of the passage, can you spot the dolphins?

Thanks again lads! I still owe you guys a week of turquoise water cruising with cold beer in the Med. Next season!

Quick pause to talk about skydiving and why it changed my life…

Skydiving changed my life… for real. Once you jump from an airplane at 10 thousand feet or so with your own parachute and land it, life isn’t the same anymore. It’s like you’re seeing the matrix for the first time (nuuurd!). It’s like staring at death and not being scared (full disclosure, you are actually terrified when the door opens). Then the free fall kind of sinks in and gives you a sense of super powers. Dude, you are falling from the sky with a backpack!

But you just don’t go up there and jump. To get there you first pass by a ground school where you learn and understand everything that could possibly go wrong (almost everything) and how to deal with it, otherwise you die. No pressure.

Oversimplifying it, you have a thoroughly checked equipment. You jump on the right place at the right time on suitable weather. You wanna free fall having control of your body and aware of the altitude at all times. At the right altitude you open your main parachute (after ~50 seconds free fall). Too high and you may risk other people jumping with you free falling on your head. Too low and you may be giving away precious seconds to solve a problem with your equipment before hitting the ground. Once you attempt to deploy your main chute it should take you no more than 5 seconds to realise it is fully open and suitable for landing or not. 95% or more of the time, it just opens fine and you land it. The other 5% or less you are still falling either at high speed or at a slower speed. If it’s a slow fall, assess and solve it quickly otherwise disconnect and deploy the reserve. If it’s high speed, disconnect and deploy the reserve. Easy 🙂

You are certainly asking what if the reserve fails. Well, chances are that you may end up on a slow or high speed fall again, but now you have to solve it. There is no third chute.

Quite oversimplified, but there are way more safety precautions involved specially around the reserve parachute which it’s main function is to save your life. including a device that deploys it for you in case you “forget”. I encourage you to read about it 🙂 go for a Tandem jump even. It’s almost the same feeling.

What it has taught me?

  • Trust your equipment. Quality, maintenance and check it regularly.
  • Knowledge is your king. Learn about anything you can possibly need.
  • Give yourself margin. Because problems will happen and at the end of the day what you want is to be able to make good decisions, else you die. No pressure.
  • Always be cool and do what you got to do!

I can easily relate it to sailing and several other aspects in life.

Now back to France…

Next Stop: Île d’Ouessant (France – Bretagne)

Left the marina after a day or two sailing single handed (sailing wording meaning sailing alone) to the island of Ouessant. As I was approaching it I was intercepted by a coast guard ship who got really close to my boat and hailed me on the radio and made a few usual questions like where I was coming from, where going to, how many people aboard and nationality. It was a quick radio interview and then they just let me be. No need for boarding my boat.

After that I sailed into the bay of Lampaul, got myself a mooring buoy (which are completely free by the way) and spent a couple days enjoying the island. It was quite tiring to do all by myself. The dinghy routine, cooking, shopping, carrying bags and not forgetting been a tourist. Not complaining though, it’s all worthy. Also sent a postcard back home!

On the way out I passed closer to La Jumant. One of, if not THE most famous lighthouse in the world thanks to a set of pictures like this one:

Taken on 21st December 1989 by Jean Guichard from a helicopter during a storm. The lighthouse keeper Théodore Malgorn thought that the helicopter was his rescue at the time and went for the door. He then noticed the huge wave crashing and hurried back inside to safety.

Since 1991 La Jument is automated and no keeper lives in it anymore.

This was my shot of the lighthouse on an early morning leaving the island:

Next Stop: Brest (France – Bretagne)

Still single handed, I sailed to Brest. Near the channel entrance my AIS alert was going mental about a Dutch Navy Fleet that wouldn’t change their course for nothing and I had to give them way. Got into the bay of Brest and found a calm anchorage by Roscanvel where I dropped the anchor and called it a day. Fun fact, you can eventually hear the sound of donkeys braying hee-haw from the boat. Very unexpected.

Went to Brest city next day to check-in on the Schengen Area and clear customs at the Douane which happens to be located very close to the marina. Another Guinness at the Tara Inn Irish Pub and also picked up another crew: Marti (Spain).

Brest Telepherique

Marti made one of the biggest contributions of the trip when we were at the Glenan Islands. He knew a little bit of fishing, but better yet, he had a mate who actually knew a lot about fishing. We sent his buddy a picture of the fishing gear we had at the time and he replied back: “Use this and any of that at such speed” (basically troll a paravane + a spinner or small lure on the back at about 4 knots). POTATO! (translated brazilian portuguese expression that means it worked like a charm). We landed 5 fish that day. 3 mackerel and 2 needle fish. 50 days on the water and I have finally learned how to fish! We were so happy. Was definitely one of the highest moments of the trip.

How I fish…

I would use this setup (picture below) and catch mostly Mackerel from France until Gibraltar and then mostly Bonitos (a kind of small tuna) inside the Med until Italy. The vane usually has a few attaching points to adjust the angle of attack. Closer to the front (nose/tip) it gets less heavy and dives less. Closer to the back (the middle) and it gets very heavy on the line and dives all the way staying closer to the boat. If your vane is coming out of the water instead of sinking and staying under water, your lure is too heavy for your vane or you got a fish! Another tip: those 5-6 hook feather daisy chains are likely to land you 3 fish at once most times.

I took this picture below from a fishing shop wall in Spain. An even better detailed representation of trolling options (click to enlarge):

About the fish…

Mackerel is a very good fish. I would fry on butter and eat with lime. Then I learned how to make ceviche out of it and I never went back.
Needle fish is terrible. Put them back on the water.
Bonitos are as nice as mackerel and I would mostly eat them raw as sushi with soy sauce. Fish as fresh as it can possibly be.

I stepped up my game in 2020 and I bought this reel and a Back Bone Elite rod with rollers. If you wanna get more serious into fishing, or just want to learn more, this book is a must have aboard.

Left Brest and tried to sail to Île de Sein but the tides didn’t seem suitable to anchor so we diverted to Audierne anchoring outside by Sainte-Evette. Dinghy out, rowed to shore and walked to the city. Really nice little town with plenty of cafes, bars and restaurants. Only one problem though, you have to get used to the French business hours which close at midday or earlier and only reopens at 3 or 4 pm. Madness. Very common not to find a place to shop or eat in the middle of the day. With time I got used to that and would plan my basic shopping routines and tourism to their schedule. I confess it was quite frustrating in the beginning.

Audierne

Our next stop was the Glénan Islands, a paradisiac archipelago that is quite tricky to sail inside due to rocks and depths. Looks like a minefield on the charts. It was still May (Spring) so it was kind of deserted at the time and the weather cloudy and rainy unfortunately. Still we managed to have a beer at La Boucane. Next morning we left, but not before been charged 25€ for the mooring buoy north of île Saint-Nicolas. If only we had left a littler earlier… #beentheredonethat

Next Stop: Belle-Île-en-Mer (France – Bretagne)

The weather had finally started to warm up and look like proper summer time. We were really happy with that until it warmed way too much on the next days haha can’t win! So next we stopped at Le Palais. A really nice place and totally worth the visit, except for token based 6-minute showers that we had to queue for! It was very busy at the time, probably because of La Semaine du Golfe du Morbihan that was happening nearby. We were lucky to even grab a mooring buoy before another boat came up to raft to ours. We walked around the city, did some shopping, had some nice Moule Frites (Mussels with fries) at the L’Odyssée and bought 2 spider crabs for a fiver because the lady was closing the stall. Life couldn’t be better!

Next Stop: Pornic and Nantes (France – Pays de la Loire)

We left to Pornic on one of the hottest days of the trip. My thermometer was marking 27°C inside the boat! We improvised some shelter with towels and avoided that scorching sun at all costs.

We made it safely to Pornic marina, tied the boat, had a proper shower in days and went on a mission to find a bar to watch the Liverpool vs Tottenham Champions League finals. It was only after 8 bars that we finally found a place which had the game on. Got us a table and beer time! 2×0 for Liverpool.

Next day we went to Nantes where we got to meet some old French friends and go to a couple events the BPM (Barbecue Park Music) festival and Goûtez Electronique before saying goodbye to Marty who had to fly back home. Big drunk hug and thanks for it all man! We had a great time sailing in France.

Took my friends to sail to Noirmoutier where we spent an afternoon on the boat and they taught me how to drink Ricard mixed with water. That thing is very strong! Great time. Thanks guys!

Noirmoutier

Next day a new crew joined the trip, Kate (England) the mackerel ceviche lover. I’ve never seen someone so excited about every little thing that happens. As we say in Ireland: she was great craic! We started her trip with an easy sail back to Noirmoutier where we first moored on a very rolly anchorage. Later on we moved south a little bit where it was slightly more sheltered. I did a quick math of the tide and depth and anchored as protected as possible at about 2 meters in low water (my draft was 1.45m). There was still a little bit of roll from the swell where I was…. Now listen to this story and how other people’s decision may sometimes influence in yours!

An hour later, a boat bigger than mine (bigger boat, bigger draft, right?) passed by and anchored waaay into the bay were the sea was absolutely flat and calm, and where I certainly wished I could anchor, but was too shallow and I’d run aground in the low tide. I was like “What are these guys doing? It’s way too shallow there to spend the night. They will not only run aground, they will fall over to the side!”

The hours passed, it was getting dark and they stood there. I couldn’t take that out of my head. I had already a few beers on me at this point and still I did the math again for like 4 times, reviewed with Kate, and got the same result: it will be 2 meters at low water based on my current depth. Two things were in my mind at this point: “Fist: One of us is wrong! Second: I’d love to go a bit closer to shore for a nicer night of sleep.” My math couldn’t be wrong and even if it was, well I would most certainly not run aground. That boat’s decision consumed my mind. I said “Kate, let’s anchor again a bit further in…” Anchor up, moved in a little, read the depth again, quick math, seems alright, anchor down. Let the boat settle down to the wind. Went below, done the math again and this time the number was 1.5m at low water. Yep, 5cm difference from the bottom of my keel. And the other boat was still there in the same place further in.

My thoughts?! “What are you doing Arthur? Well is a little calmer here… 5cm in enough, is it not? But they are way more into the bay… They are definitely French sailors from around here. They know their stuff. The tidal range must be wrong… It’s fine… It’s gonna be alright… If I’m right, won’t be a big issue.”

That night, my keel touched the bottom at least two times. Gently, but noticeably enough to wake me up. Nothing serious but… My math was right… OF COURSE IT WAS! It’s one of the simplest maths in sailing. And I made a questionable decision because somebody else did too. At least they seemed to. I was angry with myself. Yet ‘proud’ somehow for not anchoring by their side completely ignoring the maths.

Next morning the tide was back up and the other boat was still there at the same spot floating… How come I certainly asked. But I could only speculate: a low draft twin keel design sitting nicely on the bottom? Maybe they left that spot at night and came back in the morning. Maybe there is a deep hole exactly where they are. Maybe they ran aground, listed sideways a little bit and came back up fine! I just don’t really know about them. But I knew about me…

Off to next port: Île d’Yeu (France – Pays de la Loire)

While in Noirmoutier we noticed that Storm Miguel was coming our way so we decided to rush to Île d’Yeu for shelter in Port-Joinville. It was a great decision and we had a great time in the island drinking wine and eating loads of seafood! But Biscay is well known for its rough seas and violent storms and this was certainly one of them claiming 3 lives from a rescue boat.

While we waited for the sea to calm down over the next couple days, we rented a bike and had a blast around the Island. We even saw an Alpaca (or Llama) and visited a Castle where a seagull didn’t like me at all and I’m sure it was trying to kill me. Dead serious.

Next Stop: Les Sables-d’Olonne (France – Pays de la Loire)

We headed after to Les Sables d’Olonne. Very famous place in the sailing world and the starting (and finishing) point of the Vendée Globe yacht race. Beautiful town to visit and nice to eat out.

Walked around, had a beer and a mandatory stop on a boulangerie to restock on baguette.

Not sure when the baguette photos craze started…

Next Stop: La Rochelle (France – Nouvelle-Aquitaine)

We left to La Rochelle taking the inside route between main land and Île de Ré passing under the bridge. The wind and the waves picked up really fast as a massive cloud was coming from the northwest. We managed to reef the sails completely and still make 7 knots only with the main up literally surfing waves downwind.

We made it safely to Port des Minimes, the biggest port in France and one of the biggest in Europe with spaces for almost 5 thousand boats! I’ve never seen so many boats in my life. Check the satellite view of that marina, is insane!

We spent the night in the visitor’s pontoon since the wind was still a bit strong to move in there. We were awaken next morning by a small racing dinghy attached to my starboard flag halyard after a bad tack. I had to climb up the hatch of my cabin, then on top of the boom and cut my own halyard to free them. French sailors lost a little bit of respect from me that day but they quickly regained it when I saw the iconic red hulled Joshua (Bernard Moitessier‘s boat) moored closed to mine.

La Rochelle was a good break from sailing. I got to sleep on a normal bed, was treated to French cousine and even went surfing in Île de Ré. Thank you Agathe!

Also it was Kate’s time to abandon ship back to London leaving me single handed again til Port Médoc. Bye Kate! See you soon =)

Out to Port Médoc through the Pertuis de Maumusson found myself on a very dodgy channel exit! Looking back it was a lucky mistake. The tide was near it’s lowest when I left the anchorage and the chart advice stated moving sandbanks and dangerous breakwater. The weather seemed fair but I couldn’t tell about the sea state since I was sheltered inside the channel. It was only possible to spot some foam being formed from distance and it seemed just a little bit. Sooner than I realised I was into the foam and the waves were a little bigger than I expected (almost a meter or so) and breaking on 2 meters depth or less! Couldn’t tell precisely for the waves been too close to each other and the depth sounder not able to display a consistent measurement. If I had ran aground there, those waves could have easily knocked the boat sideways and filled with water. Looking back I’d certainly wait for higher tide. I’m not proud at all but I got away with it, finished sailing to Port Médoc and anchored in front of the marina. Another one for my jar of luck.

Next stop: Ireland! Wait what?

So, as part of my agreement at the time with my company I had to fly back to Ireland to work and get things in order before an ISO27001 surveillance audit. While I was arranging things to keep the boat in the marina I found a last minute crew. Mr Luis Vega from Puerto Rico, youngest “old man” I’ve ever met. What a legend! We got along very well so I trusted him stay on the boat while I was gone for a little longer than a week.

Train to Bordeaux, flight to Dublin and straight to the pub for a Guinness. #priorities

If you are wondering where do I find crew: Facebook, Instagram (see footer of this page) and crewbay.com which I recommend over all other websites with the same purpose. It’s 100% free! If you have a boat and need crew or if you are crew and want to sail anywhere in the world, sign up and find a match! But for god’s sake READ THE ADVERTISEMENTS FULLY. They always state the dates and locations they are expecting crew and the cost arrangements. I really hope you find a match that meets your flexibility, but usually YOU adapt to the boat schedule, not the opposite. In my ad for example I was looking for crew to join a dream trip and help me operate the boat and share expenses. My only requirement was: you must be a friendly and sociable person with good communication. I was avoiding another crew-that-must-not-be-named at all costs (jump back to the first post of this series if you missed that part). I ended up having several different profiles aboard from 19 to 65 years old! They all worked perfectly and I’d be more than happy to have all of them back aboard. The whole experience was so amazing that I even miss these people as friends.

Now back to France London!

Finished my work duties in Ireland and visited Kate on her boat in the canals of London. She even let me drive 😀

Was good to be crew instead of captain for a while. Zero work and zero worries. Great day that ended quick. Time to say good bye again. Spoiler alert: she’ll be back!

Flew back to Neverland to find Mr Vega begging to sail out of that place haha. Port Médoc is a hell of a small town. Before flying to Ireland we went for a walk around and felt like cowboys walking a ghost town. Buildings and gardens were in shape and everything but not a single soul on the streets! There was one little bar open with a few local people watching TV and betting on dices where we managed to have a beer and eat a pack of crisps. Not a chance to get food served in that place.

I can imagine how boring it should have been for Mr Vega to stay there for so long. Luckily for him, Médoc wine has a name for itself on the Bordeaux Wine Route.

Next Stop: Arcachon (France – Nouvelle-Aquitaine)

We left early under thick fog on a long 15h passage. The sun came out later on and we could finally see the beach. A 200km stretch of sand known as Côte d’Argent (Silver Coast) that goes all the way south to Biarritz. It’s the longest stretch of sand in Europe and seems like an endless beach. We sailed south giving a good safe distance from land.

That day happened to be one of the best fishing days of the trip. We even had to stop fishing and put some mackerel back to the water for not having fridge space to store.

Mr Vega was a great cook by the way. Best mackerel marinade recipes full of spices, ginger, mixed peppers, onion and lime. That with rice and wine and I was a happy captain.

We got to the entrance of the channel to Arcachon but our timing wasn’t the best. It was a little late between tides and we were hailed over the radio and been advised about the entrance conditions (they could see us approaching on the AIS). They gave us new positions for the channel buoys since they had been updated recently and the charts were not correct. Also mentioned the timing wasn’t advisable but since the sea state was almost flat and our draft was only 1.45m they seemed favourable for us getting in. “You should be fine”. Still, their advice was to wait for the next high tide in daylight only (the buoys had no lights). That would mean waiting about 20 hours overnight sitting ‘adrift’ in front of the entrance with nowhere to anchor. I decided to go slowly and would turn back if the sea state and depths didn’t seem suitable. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again! We made in safe and sound with just a little bumpy swell and more than 4m depth under the keel. Happy days.

Once in Arcachon, we spent a few days between anchorages, stocked in baguette and wine, touriested a bit and off to Bayonne.

Fun fact: Arcachon’s flag is Black/White/Yellow and looks like a discoloured French flag.

Next Stop: Bayonne (France – Nouvelle-Aquitaine)

Another long day passage with the same view of that endless beach but now with zero fog all the way. Saw a few dolphins and maybe caught a fish or two, can’t remember really but that was it. 15h at sea and we arrived at the entrance of Bayonne.

The current at the entrance is quite strong on the ebb. I was doing less than 3 knots cranking on the engine up the river. Enough to get us safely to the marina of Brise-Lames in front of a noisy and dusty port where ships were loading some powdery stuff getting airborne with the wind all day.

Got up next morning to a scorching sunny day and hopped on a bus to Biarritz where the beach was packed. Beer time!

Back to the boat and to a new crew, Katy (Austria). The first person I’ve met who would take such ‘drastic’ action against climate change and avoid flying because of emissions. She took a train from Austria to France instead over the course of a few days visiting friends along the way.

Also friends we made at a bar in Biarritz came over for a day sail to Saint-Jean-de-Luz where we anchored by the Plage du Fort de Socoa. Great day afloat with good food, cold beer, wine, ukulele sessions and friendship. The last stop in France couldn’t have been better.

Next day we crossed the invisible line to Spain! Easy few hours passage that didn’t really feel like sailing to another country.

Next Stop: San Sebastian (Spain – Basque Country)

Last quick story before this post gets any longer…While anchored in Donostia-San Sebastian at Bahia de La Concha I was surprisingly hailed on the radio by the Spanish coast guard who asked:

“Neverland, what are your intentions?”

Then my subconscious pirate mind went like:

“Five hundred years and many moons ago your ancestors along with the Portuguese touched foot in my home land South America, enslaved and catechised our indigenous people and pillaged our riches. I’m here to take back what is ours! I’m here for LA VENGANZA!! Arrrrrrrrrrr…”

Of course I didn’t say that. We were just anchored for the day and left to the next port the day after. Still I wonder what could possibly happen if I really said such thing and they’d taken it seriously… Well… We will never know!

That’s it. Another part of this incredible trip. A part full of surprises and constant adaptation. Finding crew on the move proved feasible and extremely enjoyable.

Next? Falling in love with the Spanish easy going way of living, pinchos, caña (beer) and summer cruising vibes.

Wales and England (Part I) – Sailing from Ireland to the Mediterranean

11th of April of 2019. Myself, one Irish and an English lads slipped the lines on a dream trip sailing from Ireland to the Mediterranean. Thirst for adventure, fairly well stocked with booze, as confident as pirates who have sailed the 7 seas, as experienced as less than a thousand nautical miles altogether, off we went on an expedition across the Irish Sea: the lost boys of Neverland.

The boat was fully equipped (safety-wise) and upgraded (less than self-sufficient-wise) to what I would consider safe and enjoyable at the time. I would find out later that a 200L water tank runs out really fast with 3 people aboard and the cheap Chinese wind turbine was a worthless noisy spinning piece of shit.

First Stop: Caernarfon – Wales

Early start and radio check before heading out to sea.

An almost easy 12h crossing with some headwind forcing us a bit northerly than expected. Good to test the crew’s endurance and our capability of considering diverting to other ports on the fly. That diverting plan being for nothing since the wind died in the end and we just motored to our initially intended destination. It was almost dark already as we got to the entrance of the Menai Strait. The tides were low and we tossed a coin over the chart advise: “moving sand banks, the channel should not be used at any time other than 3 hours either side of high water and during suitable sea state conditions”. Since the sea state was very calm, the worst that could happen would be to run aground in 1.5m water and have to wait an hour or so to motor the remaining half an hour to the anchorage. Well, 1.9m is what we got on the sounder. Plenty of depth to reach the first lighthouse, turn to port, drop the hook and drink to our first successful passage.

Next Stop: Porthdinllaen – Wales

After a short visit to the city and castle in Caernarfon, we headed to Porthdinllaen beach, where we would be stuck initially with hopes that the famous Tŷ Coch Inn pub would throw a party and then due to strong winds on the next days. Plenty of time to play board games, drink and take our first seawater dip shower. A dip shower is one of the main strategies to save water on a boat. You basically jump on the water just to get wet and climb back. Then you scrub yourself and jump back again to wash. Finally you rinse the salt water with fresh water. There you go, a shower with only a liter of fresh water!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BwM2ls3I82w

All was great, until it wasn’t…

One of the nights anchored half sheltered from strong winds and the boat swinging all over, one of the guys that I won’t name on this blog, drank too much. It was a Monday as I recall at about 10:00pm. I was in my cabin ready to sleep, the other crew, Jordan (great lad by the way) was outside on the phone and the-one-that-must-not-be-named rises from his cabin trying to move still but bouncing all over. Noticeably drunk, out he goes to the cockpit. Guess for what? To pee overboard. What a genius. On those conditions, if it wasn’t for Jordan and myself rushing from my cabin to grab him, he’d be overboard. At night. Drunk. Gusting 25+ knots. Boat swinging more than 100°. 13°C water. I didn’t sleep that night while my mind digested the situation: First week in and one of my crew is half helpful and half worse than useless, a risk! My other crew, very smart and 150% reliable. Even a better sailor than me I’d find sometimes. Balance is achieved. Still I feel very uncomfortable with the other crew that, believe it or not, has other problems including very bad smell.

We had a talk the next morning and things got back to ‘normal’.

Next Stop: Pwllheli – Wales

Easy 40nm passage and top speed of 11knots on Bardsey sound with ~6 knots current. Couldn’t believe when I saw the GPS speed. Right after the sound there was the Devil’s Ridge on the chart that got us worried but the sea state was alright in the end and we passed through just fine tacking across.

Getting inside Pwllheli marina was an easy ride on the right tide even after forgetting the mainsail fully up. Oops. There was practically no wind at the time and we quickly took it down.

Pwllheli wasn’t much of a nice town to be honest. We did some shopping and on the way back Jordan creeped on a woman with her kid to ask her how to pronounce Pwllheli haha. She looked a bit scared like: “What are these guys up to?” then she said: “pool-heli” while getting hold of her child. There you go, Pwllheli, funny welsh name that means salt-water pool.

Back to the marina, we took our first proper shower since the start of the trip and bought some boat parts on the chandlery early next morning before setting sail to Fishguard.

By a huge coincidence, my sailing instructor from Ireland was making a boat delivery from Pwllheli to Fishguard next day! He found our boat on the slip and came to say hi. If it wasn’t for the chandlery early next morning we could have raced to Fishguard! Like we stood a chance against a professional on a 40 footer.

Next Stop: Fishguard – Wales

https://www.instagram.com/p/BwXvjNjoZm6

The passage to Fishguard was great, Dolphins followed the boat for the first time and we had loads of fun hanging out the boom downwind.

It was practically night when we arrived at the anchorage where we managed to spot my instructor’s boat and dropped the hook nearby to say hi.

After that we noticed that our anchor light wasn’t working which required us to climb the mast next day to fix. We had to climb the mast many times over the next weeks by the way. Luckily I had the equipment! Big thanks to Sergio from SV Florence who taught me the ropes of going up the mast with the Prusik knot technique back in Ireland. Jordan also happened to be a climber himself and helped a lot going up a few times.

Quick stop to talk about problems…

They happen all the time! Read again slowly: ALL THE TIME! First was the anchor light, then the headsail halyard and furling system (will come back to that later) and finally the wind speed sensor that got stuck and wouldn’t spin. That alone was a battle that required us going up the mast multiple times before we decided taking the sensor apart and doing a proper job cleaning the bearing and soaking it on WD-40. I also managed to break it on the process and had to glue it up with epoxy. Works perfectly to this day!

And that was just up the mast. Next stop plumbing leaks.

Dinghy out the locker, pumped it up and rowed to shore. Was a bit of a hassle to find a safe place for the dinghy and also close enough to the water since the tides were still going down at the time. It was even worse to come back at low water. We basically had to drag the dinghy for a couple hundred meters before reaching the water again.

Fishguard was a beautiful little town, specially the lower town.

In the meantime, after friends and family sharing my expedition, I was contacted by a newspaper in Italy called Il Telegrafo Livorno. They asked me a few questions and pictures and a couple days later there was it. They published a huge photo of my face stamped on the front page! I couldn’t believe my eyes when they sent me the picture. I was smiling and pinching myself for a week. The dream was as real as ever.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BwZmES0luTN

Next Stop: Skomer Island – Wales

Done with Fishguard we decided to go on our first night passage to Skomer Island, a bird sanctuary where we could spot the famous Puffin bird.

Beautiful night, full moon on the sky and light head winds. We could smell bird shit from miles away coming from the island. At about 01:00am we anchored on the south bay. Felt amazing to wake up with the sound of the birds and that view…

https://www.instagram.com/p/BwcE7RMB564

We went to the other side anchorage next day hoping to go on the island but were told over the radio that the fee to get in was only payable by cash and none of us had money except on card – 1st world problems #sadface – so we left.

Worried about timing we ended skipping Milf Heaven Milford Haven to get to Cardiff and Bristol faster and aimed for Caldey Island to anchor for the night. Dropped the hook, reversed to set the anchor and bang! The engine noise before dying. We had reversed on our fishing line. Oops. Fortunately we had a wetsuit, diving mask, a good knife and a highly motivated Jordan excited to dive in and clear the propeller saving the day.

Next Stop: Cardiff – The Bristol Channel

The Bristol Channel was a big surprise. It boasts the second highest tidal range in the world at between 12 and 14 meters! (highest is at the Bay of Fundy in Canada with 16 meters). Can you picture a 14 meters depth pool empty? Now imagine a whole channel cycling between empty and full every 6 hours. You just can’t fight that current and need to plan well your passage. The water also gets super muddy and I gave up the idea of drinking a shot of sea water to celebrate my first thousand nautical miles. Dark rum did the job though.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BwetWWOFybd

We got there at high water late afternoon and called the lock controllers over the radio and were assigned a bay to lock in. Once inside we called the marina that was already booked and were assigned a berth to dock.

Cardiff Marina was really nice! They have a bar with a beegarden perfect for a sunset beer. Cardiff city night out on the hand wasn’t very nice at all. Maybe it was the day or the time, I don’t know. Lots of drunk and weird people on the streets. The bars were kind of empty and had a heavy atmosphere. As it is said in Ireland: no craic! We were fast to leave that city to Bristol next day.

BRISTOL! – England

Bristol was just amazing and holds the post of favourite city of the trip. Just to get there is an adventure on its own! From getting down the Avon River on the right tide, passing by the famous Portishead, past under the Avonmouth Bridge before the iconic Victorian Clifton Suspension Bridge and into the first lock, then watching two swinging bridges having traffic stopped so you can pass through and finally into the city right by a beer garden being greeted by people drinking and waving at you as a welcome sign. You can literally park your boat in front of a pub for a drink! How epic is that?

https://www.instagram.com/p/BwnC1yGlC3K

The city has loads of nice restaurants and bars, the unmissable St Nicholas Market, a great chandlery: Force 4 and a hardware/building materials store: Wickes where I bought a hose, some ptfe tape and a couple aluminium strips to make a stronger support for the solar panel.

I also got to visit friends and collect a new solar mppt charge controller that they kindly received and stored for me. Thanks Tom and Julia! Jordan’s auntie also came over for some tea time and gave us a bottle of rum as a gift. Thanks Judith! Straight to the wall of good memories!

Then a storm was forecast for the next days and we had to wait for it to pass before heading out. Loads of time to walk around and do nothing! Quick note about the facilities for boaters in Bristol. They seemed very poor. At least the ones we saw.

Next Stop: Lundy Island – England

The plan to get out of the Bristol channel was to split the trip in two from Bristol to Lundy Island so we wouldn’t fight the currents head on. The options were limited and we decided to anchor outside Cardiff, east of Flat Holm. Seems only doable in neaps but still about 2 knots of current at its peak. Not very advisable to be honest but still doable on good weather and calm sea. The other option was to get inside Cardiff marina again and pay another night but we would still lose a lot of time.

The second leg of the passage was rainy and with very light winds. We tried flying the spinnaker for the first time but the wind was just too weak so we were mostly motoring. Then in the middle of the channel we heard a familiar sudden bang as the engine died again. We had ran over a thick yellow rope adrift that went straight to the prop. Took us a few seconds to notice it dragging behind the boat. It was very cold and soon to be dark and the sea state was a bit rolly at the time. There was nowhere to anchor nearby, no wind and the current would eventually turn back on us. It was my turn to wear the wetsuit and save the day. I cut a piece of the rope and stuck to the wall of memories.

After that it was smooth motoring til Lundy Island where we dropped the hook for the night. Lundy is one of my favourite Island of the trip. It is like a big farm and bio researching reserve with a beautiful landscape. Full of birds, soey sheep, goats, poneis, highland cattle and many more animals.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bw49kIqA_HQ

We stayed there only for a day and set sail originally to Port Isaac. That was our first attempt to not rely on the engine if the wind died and planned to stay under sails only for the whole night if needed. Was very tedious to sail at 2knots. Then the wind picked up head on and we diverted to Port Quinn Bay where we could safely anchor at night. We couldn’t see anything at all and were basically relying on the GPS. After almost run over a few lobster pods, we made it safely into the bay and dropped the hook at about 5m depth.

Next Stop: Padstow – England

We knew there was some strong winds coming next days and the River Camel was our best shelter. Only a few issues though. The tides dry most of the channel and the only anchorable spaces in front of Padstow were full of mooring buoys, none being available to visitors. The marina was an option but we were on a budget trying to save money and would rather spend on beer. We found a spot and dropped the hook. For our surprise, we were charged to anchor! The harbour master came to us, really nice guy by the way, and after a long explanation about history and bay ownership, we were charged a symbolic fee of 40 pounds for the week. Still way cheaper than the marina that would be easily about 35 pounds a night!

Padstow was the biggest example of the “ups and downs of sailing”. The Ups usually feels like the best days of your life and the Downs feels like you wished those days never happened.

We arrived on 1st of May, by coincidence the best day of the year to be there all thanks to the May Day ‘Obby ‘Oss Festival. A folk festival where everyone was dressed up on this white sailors uniform with either a red or blue scarf and ribbon in reference to the ‘Oss. Red known as Old Oss and Blue known as Peace Oss. Streets packed with people dancing, playing the accordion and drums, singing along and drinking beers. Perfect occasion for a good old pub crawling. What a blast we had! The weather was just perfect, sunny and warm. A rare taste of summer on these latitudes and season.

Motivated by the bad weather coming and my decision to sit there longer, we had a drunk open talk about comfort zone and when we should sail. The guys were keen to get out on strong winds, which is 22+ knots in my dictionary, and I compared them to recently deployed soldiers craving for action at war. They wanted a fight with the sea. In my head that wasn’t sensible at all. How one could enjoy cold wind, salt water spray that feels like cutting your face, bashing waves, hearing all those harsh noises that resonate as “this is not right” (at least in my head), battling a heavier rudder, a boat heeling to the deck and things falling and breaking inside, feeling sea sick and increasing the chance of having to solve problems that you didn’t even know that could happen in the first place but now on harder conditions? NOT ME!

I get it that they wanted to see it for themselves, after all how could they face that infamous “Have you ever been on a storm” question that every non sailor asks? But I was a novice sailor on a cruising dream with a heavy captain’s hat of responsibility and a tourist heart. Don’t judge me, I’ve been on a storm with 4+ meter waves, some even crashing on the boat during my skipper course. Then on strong winds single handed to the Isle of Man and back with a broken autopilot. And after 6 months sailing practically on a daily basis, trust me, I’ve been there, several times! It’s not pleasant or remotely fun. It’s sadism if you say you enjoy it. I heard a joke once that a man liked to use shoes 2 numbers smaller than his feet just to feel the pleasure of taking them off after a long day of work… I like sunshine, a nice breeze, new places, sunsets, fresh fish and cold beer!

Jokes a part, seamanship is an art and there are all types of sailors on every port. Know who you are!

Back to our dinghy dried out in mud and with an audience hoping they had a reason to laugh at us, we managed to drag it back to the water and motor back to the boat.

All was great, until it wasn’t… AGAIN!

A night or two later, 02:00 am and I heard a bang! Something hit us I thought (or we hit something). I woke up, opened my hatch on the bow and looked around. There was this green and red lights and somebody walking on the back. We were still anchored I could tell. I thought it was one of the guys outside at the time. Then I looked back inside and Jordan was just about to open the companionway board. It probably took me a full minute as I climbed out to the deck to realise that there was another sailboat that hit us and got attached side by side and the person walking was the skipper on the deck of his boat. Still a bit half asleep and confused, I asked him: “Did you drag anchor or was it us?”. He just said: “I don’t know”. We assessed the situation which was: He was single handed and has drifted with the wind and current, hit us and his spinnaker pole tied to his deck and sticking the tip out was stuck to my boat’s stanchion preventing him from drifting further.

What really happened that night? I still don’t know to this day. Me and Jordan helped him out and freed the pole stuck to the stanchion and he just went adrift down the river with the current and wind. Didn’t even say sorry. All I know is the name of the boat “Just For Now” because his AIS was broadcasting at the time. Also because of a small yellow paint mark that was left on my boat matching a yellow hulled boat found moored at the marina next day. Guilty!

Back inside there was a Mr You-Sure-Know, throwing up on the heads for earlier having drank 2 bottles of wine on his own and mumbling words.

Imagine my brain boiling in a feeling that I can’t even name. That event could have been a disaster. The other boat could have punched a hole on our hull, could have dragged us onto other boats, or onto land running aground and falling to the side and taking water, specially due the strong winds and current, and there was him, not only unhelpful but in need to be minded again.

Luckily the problem was sorted easily and nothing major really happened but that was the last straw. You-know-who needed to go.

I put my head back to sense and wrote down all the reasons I had for “kicking him out” (there was quite a few) and came with a sensible plan for the next morning: “We are heading to Falmouth over the next 10 days or so where it should be easier for you to find another boat and for me to find another crew.”

If only you knew me personally you’d know how hard it was for me do that. I am as ‘diplomatic’ and sensible as possible and I always try to avoid conflict. But that was my dream trip and it wasn’t working for me.

Imagine the atmosphere on the boat for the next days.

Jordan played a very good part in trying to improve the mood aboard but we only hit rock bottom of that “down” later on that same day. We decided going fishing with the new equipment we bought in Padstow and the plan was interrupted by a bilge full of water. About 150 L or precisely all we had left on the freshwater tank. That was all on me. We had this annoying small leak on the fresh water line that I tried to fix and did a lousy job. The hose got disconnected while we were sailing and an always-on electric water pump did the rest bringing us to that. We had a bilge to dry and only a few spare water bottles left. Back to the anchorage.

That day felt like 2020 alone. PUN

Next Stop: Newquay – England

Newquay is a drying harbour and the entrance was quite challenging, not only because of the strong wind and waves at the time but also because there was a bunch of people on 2 ribs (from the rowing club maybe) paddling viciously into the sea fighting the waves head on, right in front of the harbour entrance. To make things worse, one of them capsized and all of a sudden they were all over the place floating on their vests. I was already hanging there fighting the waves myself, waiting for a chance to get in, and now I was worried that one of them would come under the boat! After a few long minutes keeping distance and driving in circles, they cleared up and we had our window to get in. That was one of those stressful moments that things could have gone really bad really fast. A lot of people looking at us from the harbour, I was standing with firmed feet apart and steady at the helm: “I got this!”. Nice and steady, timing the waves and adjusting the angle I motored through the narrow entrance that offered little margin for error and things were way calmer inside. I asked the guys to set the fenders to port where it seemed more sheltered to dock on the East wall instead of the North wall that we planned initially.

As we tied the lines, we were greeted by the friendliest fisherman ever that were very jealous of us when we said we were heading the to Scilly Isles. “Ohhhh take us with you!”. The people was so friendly and the day was so nice that we decided to dry dock Neverland on the wall and stay for the night.

Dry docking on a wall can be tricky, specially if the sea is not 100% flat. There was still a little bit of swell coming inside the harbour and I had to spend the night waking up every hour looking after the lines so the boat wouldn’t hit the wall and also chafe the port shroud. To dry dock, you basically tie a halyard somewhere on land and keep the boat leaning just the right amount into the wall so you don’t chafe the shrouds nor lean over the wrong side which would be a total disaster. I also like to add filled water containers on the bow when the bottom is not flat (like on a slip) to make sure the boat sits nicely on its keel and doesn’t fall backwards. And make sure your keel can stand the boat!

That is what dry docking looks like. Picture was taken when I was cleaning and painting the bottom between tides.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Buli4nmgYDz

Next Stop: Sciliy Isles – The English Caribbean

Our passage to the Scillies was definitely one of the nicest with a beautiful weather. Except that our headsail collapsed all of a sudden like a dead tree. Timber! Quickly killed the engine and pulled the sail back aboard. The halyard had failed due to a problem with the top furler swivel that was chafing it. We simply connected the other front halyard for the moment hoisted it back and kept going. See how life is easier on good weather?

Finished our way into St Mary’s bay, tied to a mooring, dinghy on the water and off to land!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BxIbfT6Fbxl

We arrived there on Cinco de Mayo (you have to drink a tequila if you know what it means), the last day of a rowing championship and everyone was having a blast singing sailing shanties! And so were us pub crawling. As we say in Ireland: GREAT CRAIC!

Even on our way back while trying to get the outboard to start we ended up meeting these lads, drunker than us, searching for their boat. One of the guys, a self proclaimed marine engineer that couldn’t spot a fuel hose disconnected from the tank, tried to help with no success. After a few tries I got it working myself. Anyway, I had to invite them for more drinking aboard Neverland! Back to the boat, as we all hopped aboard, Jordan got a grip on the swimming ladder that wasn’t properly secured and back he felt into the water with the ladder. Our first man overboard! We were laughing for hours till late night.

With that classic hangover we got up next day to some bacon and eggs and a Guinness, because why not? One of the guys had crashed on the saloon for the night and got back to land with us, never to be seen again haha. He was a resident at the island as I recall. Can’t remember his name.

We went cliff diving after that and then the weather just went to shite. Storm after storm. We couldn’t even explore the other islands. Even moored sheltered the swell wouldn’t let me sleep for a few days and I was settled to sleep on a marina on our next stop: Penzance.

Next Stop: Penzance and Falmouth – End of part I

The Irishman Jordan also had plans of buying his own boat with his best friend back in Belfast – one of the reasons he almost didn’t come on this trip back then. So he was flying to Greece from Penzance. When we left the Scillies we were all on a good bye mood.

We arrived at the marina, tied the lines, Jordan got his bag packed, hopped off, big hug, good luck and good bye “We shall meet again at some port around the world”.

Went for a walk and a beer in town, got back and finally got a proper night of sleep in days.

I left to Falmouth next day where the-other-crew also disembarked shortly after, never to be heard or seen again. No hug. Adios!

Well that’s it. The end of a long and intense chapter. An experience of a lifetime in only 30 days. So much I learned. So much I still had to go through… The lost boys crew was disbanded. I was alone. So I did what any other sailor would do. Got the chart back on the table. I had the English Channel ahead.

NEXT POST: France and Spain…

You can follow Jordan’s own adventures here!

More pictures…

Dream Trip – I sailed from Ireland all the way to Italy (Intro)

It’s been 3 months already since this trip was finished and I think I’m ready to write about it and share some more content. In case you missed it check out the Instagram: @neverlandexpedition

Lots of dolphins, free fish, cheap beer, sunsets, falling stars, good stories, bad stories and of course salt water everywhere.

3700 nautical miles, or a thousand miles more than an Atlantic crossing, is what it took me and a bunch of really cool people I met along the way to get there. For the record I have sailed 4400nm so far, 4150nm (95%) as captain believe it or not.

If you want a full taste of trip, here it goes:

Ireland to Italy – 6 months of sailing, 1 second a day…

This is just an intro of the trip which I’ll divide in 5 parts:

Check back later for the next posts. Cheers!

Living on a boat in Ireland

After almost 10 months living aboard a boat in Ireland, my time here is getting to its end. No, I’m not selling Neverland. It has all been part of a bigger plan that started way before buying the boat. All the research, savings, training, then buying the boat, then living aboard, getting to know her, fixing, upgrading and sailing the hell out of her so I could build the skills to set sail into the sunset.

An experience so far that has made me a less lazy person (a little less). The boat needs constant attention and I have to do everything mostly by myself. Friends are giving a hand as well.

Basics first

If you can’t change a light bulb, then a boat is not for you…

Living on a boat is very different from living on a house (Captain Obvious reporting for duty!). Now seriously, moving to a small space makes you consider everything you own. You just don’t have where to put all the junk! To start I had to either sell or donate or throw away a lot of my stuff from TV and video game to clothes and stuff I was hoarding thinking l’d need one day. Guess what, I probably wouldn’t. Nobody does. Humans just have a thing for hoarding stuff. Get rid of it!

Living Space

I’m 6’1 (1,87m) and there is only one place inside my boat that I can stand up straight. My head has found all the upper limits of the boat several times and I still hit my head now and then when moving around. You have to crouch and bend and move over things all the time. When there is more people on the boat then everyone has to move so you can move. I guess everybody dreams with a bigger boat until they realize they can’t either afford or maintain. Compromise is key.

Storage Space

Storage space is very limited on a boat in general and despite every part of it being designed to store stuff, there is never enough space. Things need to be foldable or retractable or simply tiny to fit in small places. And forget a nice and tidy wardrobe, shoe cabinet or a service area. At least the bilge is cold and you can store beer!

Comfort

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Toilet

Despite the boat having a toilet we should always use the marina facilities, which are great by the way! The shower is better than all houses I lived in Ireland. Adjustable water temperature and pressure to perfection. I’m sure I’ll miss the marina facilities very much while at sea.

Sewage at sea is a controversial subject and countries have different regulations regarding that. The only common agreement that I know is no sewage disposal inside harbours. I suggest googling about it if you are really interested, you will find that is considered to be acceptable to dump a lot of stuff in the ocean except plastic.

Wind

Its very windy in Ireland (no shit, Sherlock), specially from Autumn to Spring (3/4 of the Year). So the boat rocks all day and night sometimes. The lines tied at the pontoon stretch and vibrate on the boat, the fenders do the same. The halyards need to be secured away from the mast so they stop banging. Not everybody does that which makes the marina an orchestra playing the symphony of hell (wind whistling loudly included).

The symphony of hell…

I would get only 3 hours of sleep on conditions like this and feel miserable all day.

Cold

During the winter I needed a heater for sure. The most efficient and economic (also the safest for a boat) I found was a 650W Oil Filled Radiator. It does the job for a single cabin with the door shut. Never use those cheap fan heaters even at home, they are power sucking devices! Electricity in the marina is more expensive than in a house and during winter I was spending about 35 euros a month mostly to keep the heating overnight. Other electrical sources like a kettle for coffee and cooking, fridge always on, Mini Dehumidifier (essential), notebook, phone charger, internal lights and water pump were used eventually. During the summer I was spending around 7 euros a month only.

Wet and moldy

Still during the winter humidity goes through the roof. Ceiling and windows fully condensed and dripping wet. Leaving the hatch partially opened improves it but it gets colder. The board under the mattress condensates as well and makes it all wet. I had to lift the mattress to dry daily! The mini dehumidifier helps considerably but doesn’t do miracles. You would need a big one for the whole boat.

I also found several spots on the boat accumulating black mold that I had to clean. Not healthy.

Cooking

There is not much space on the galley and cooking for more than 3 people is a nightmare. Just for me is fine 🙂

There is a two burner cooker and a grill oven (fire from the top and no lid). I never bothered using the grill really. I was spending about 27 euros every 2 to 3 months on gas for a refill of a Campingaz 907 bottle.

There is also a small fridge with no freezer that is the closest thing to luxury on my boat. That and cold Guinness.

Fixing stuff

Buy a boat and you’ll have work to do every day for the rest of your life…

You need handy man skills. Things break, toilet clogs, battery needs replacement, plumbing needs attention, electronics stop working… This list is infinite, for real. Of course we all have our limitation regarding maintenance but the basics on a boat goes beyond hammering a nail on the wall or even replacing a door lock. These are fairly easy jobs compared to handling sealants and gaskets, fiberglass, epoxy, through deck/hull holes, a diesel engine, an outboard engine, NMEA devices, equipment on top of the mast, geez.. I was studying maintenance several months before buying a boat an even enrolled on a marine engine maintenance course. Here is the sailing maintenance book I bought by the way. Very detailed with pictures and also teaches you how to inspect a boat before buying. Its a must have aboard.

Internet

The marina WIFI signal is awful and my best connection is the 4G hotspot on the phone. Works great to browse the internet and even watch videos and series but doesn’t compare to a cabled broadband connection. RIP online games and low ping =/.

Free and peaceful time

Specially during weekends, if not doing work on the boat or chilling in Dalkey Island with the seals, I usually have a lot of free time and I use that to read and learn as much as possible stuff like preserving food, line fishing, spearfishing, holding my breath longer for free diving, more maintenance and sailing in general.

Nothing beats a nice mug of coffee, a book and a lazy day afloat.

Is it worthy?

To summarize, living in a marina in Ireland is doable and you get used to the bad part over time. Summer is good, you can enjoy the coast and even cross the Irish Sea to Wales or the Isle of Man. Winter is definitely the worse, very cold and you don’t feel like going out sailing at all though you can use the time to do work on the boat. Well is it worthy? If the plan is sailing away after a season or you are OK with bothering discomfort then yes… Sunny days makes it worthy.

So, what’s next?

Next? Adventure time! Big time dream adventure time! A six-month sailing trip from Ireland to the Mediterranean, passing by Wales, England, France, Spain, Portugal, Gibraltar, Balearic Islands (Ibiza, Mallorca, Menorca), Sardinia, Corsica and finally Italy. Almost 3000 nautical miles of sailing, which is equivalent to crossing the Atlantic.

Island hoping and sunset chasing, connecting with people and nature, experiencing new cultures and places only reachable by a boat, getting drunk with the locals and collecting memories for a lifetime… I’m not a cliche quotes person at all, but this one deserves a place here:

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore. Dream. Discover.”

– H. Jackson Brown’s mother

Feel invited to follow or even join this trip! Check the interactive map below and follow us on Instagram @neverlandexpedition.

I sailed to the Isle of Man and back. Alone…

This is the story of my bravest and biggest personal challenge. It was my 31st birthday and I decided to challenge myself as a gift (yeah, I love myself), so I crossed the Irish Sea again to the Isle of Man, but alone this time. I was scared, it was scarier than I thought. The weather wasn’t as bad as when the “Beast From The East II” hit Ireland during my skipper course back in March with 4 meters waves, but I wasn’t the captain in charge at that time and I wasn’t alone. This time it was only Neverland and I and things got a bit messy.

“A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor…”

Day 1 – The Crossing

27th of September of 2018. 4:30 in the morning and my alarm goes off. It was still night and I woke up with an uncomfortable feeling of “what the f*ck am I doing?”. But just like every other scary thing I’ve done, I embraced the fear and went with it. “I can do this. I AM DOING THIS!”.

Weather forecast was half good (15- knots) and half rough (28+ knots gusts). Standard weather for that time of the year at the Irish Sea. Next day was even worse so that was my best shot. It’s worth to mention that I had the ‘blessing’ from my instructor:

Me: “Hey, I’m going to the Isle of Man this Thursday. Single handed haha any advice?”
Instructor: “Always be clipped to the boat! Don’t even disconnect for a second… enjoy! Sounds like a good adventure!”

That gave me a lot of confidence.

5:00am nav and head lights on, radio, AIS, plotter, engine, slipped the lines and off I went out of Dun Laoghaire Harbour into the night. 1st challenge was to cross Dublin Port channel. It wasn’t so busy at the time but I had to time my passage between some big ass cargo ships and ferries 20 times the size of my boat. AIS helps a lot! After that it was only about sailing on a straight line for 12 hours. Easy stuff…  if only everything went as I planned.

A couple hours sailing on a northeast course, wind between westerly and south westerly, moon on my shoulder and some colours start to pop in the horizon. The good part of sailing, sunrises at sea are just beautiful.

The good part of sailing… amazing sunrises.

3 hours into the sea and I got my first scare. I was sitting down and steering for some rest, sipping on my coffee and a lobster pod passed very close to the boat and I thought the boat was dragging it. My heart started pounding. “F*ck, this thing will get stuck on my propeller.” Went to neutral for a second and the lobster pod just stayed behind for my relief. Adrenaline pump. I was rushed for half an hour.

Then the wind picks up, and so the waves. 

Waves coming from the back of the boat makes it goes like a see-saw and you have to compensate on the steering wheel a lot to keep the course.

Quick fact: Seasaw was the original name of the boat when I bought… May Neptune forgive me changing it for Neverland being a much better name.

Smooth sailing…

A heavy gust of wind hits, the boat heels a bit more and the headsail starts flapping hard, autopilot engaged and I started furling the headsail quickly. The boat accidentally jibes, coffee cup falls from the holder and goes all over the cockpit. Finished furling, back to the helm, autopilot disengaged, engine back on and slowly jibed back into course.

Dramatic pause. My autopilot wasn’t holding course…

I can still feel the adrenaline rush right now as I write. It’s like waking up from a nightmare. My plan was so ‘right’, engage the autopilot whenever I feel tired and relax. But planning and sailing are enemies and I knew it, no I didn’t, not my autopilot, not alone. F*CK! (I said that word a f*cking lot on this trip).

Assessment time:
I’m alone in the middle of the sea and I can barely see land behind me (but the boat is floating fine), my autopilot is not holding course (just keep steering for now), there is coffee all over the cockpit and it is slippery (I have to clean this somehow), my coffee cup and lid is on the floor (pick them up and throw ’em in the sink from the cockpit), where is my 2 liter bottle of water? (missing… I’m very sorry for that, ocean =/), main sail is already on reef 2 (will definitely need a third later). Deep breath. Everything is alright.

Decision time:
Sail back for 5 hours or keep steering for the rest of the way for another 7 hours…?
.
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Well, you know the answer, right?

It wasn’t even half way at this point and the plan was to get there and back! I confess I’m a very stubborn individual and when I want something, I don’t want anything else. So I got my shit together, rinsed the coffee with the stern shower hose and kept going. Oh yes, I had to steer for 13 hours nonstop that day.

At that point I had a few considerations because my autopilot wasn’t reliable and I just couldn’t leave the helm for longer than 30 seconds, so:

  • I’ll motor sail from now own.
  • I’m not raising the mainsail no matter what. I know from the forecast that I will need a third reef for sure eventually.
  • I’m also only unfurling the headsail half way.
  • I’m not rigging a preventer on the boom (unless the wind backs more southerly. Forecast says it will veer to northwesterly late afternoon. I was between a beam reach and a broad reach).
  • No toilet. Pee to the back while steering. This needs further explanation: I was wearing an overall waterproof trousers up to my shoulders, a waterproof jacket on top, a life jacket on top and attached with a safety line to the boat. You have no idea how difficult it was to reach it, stick it out and do it to the back while steering and not falling as the boat was rocking up and down and left and right. I’ll leave you to imagine. I’m glad I didn’t need to go for number 2.
  • Relax. I can do this.

I had sandwiches already made in the fridge and also loads of snacks so I would time myself between the waves to engage the autopilot and pop inside the boat, unplug my safety line, grab food (also water, check AIS, charge phone), plug back the safety line and run back to the helm in 30 seconds or so to fix the course which wasn’t already the same as when I left. I think I’ve done this five or six times only.

Well, this second part of the trip the waves were still a bit annoying at about 2 meters tops but the sun was out and the wind wasn’t strong. So half way across the sea I had my lunch and a beer to celebrate and boost the morale. It was as pleasant as the sunrise earlier that day, but not for long. I also passed by a fishing boat in the middle of nowhere and we waived at each other which made me feel less alone at that time.

Few more hours and land ho!

I could barely see the Calf of Man between the clouds but it was just about time. I was getting a bit worried actually, by my calculations it should have been visible an hour before but it was cloudy. My phone had signal at this point so I called Port St Mary to let the harbour master (Neil Collister. Great man by the way who helped me a lot over there) know I’d be there at around 7:00pm and ask for instructions on what to do when I arrive (I’ll come back to that later).

Northwesterly finally hits and hits strong! Boat heeling and sails flapping. I had to furl the headsail again and I had to go for reef 3. Bow into the wind, autopilot on, furl it quickly and check autopilot. Course was steady into the wind. Mainsail was flapping like crazy, boat bashing the waves, wind whistling loud, the front halyard banging on the mast. The symphony of hell. But the autopilot was holding course into the wind! You could almost see me smiling at this point, until my reef 3 (a single line system I had rigged myself and never tested) got stuck somewhere close to the mast. FUCK! (no asterisk)

Wind speed was over 30 knots, the boat was going up and down into the waves and my autopilot, well, I had to hope it would keep holding course. That was the most dangerous part of the trip. I had to walk to the mast and even though I was attached to the jackline, any mistake or mishap and I could be hanging by my safety line off the boat dragging on the water, hopefully conscious to climb back. Sounds dramatic I know. Nothing bad happened, the line was stuck where is goes inside the boom, I fixed, came back, finished reefing and steered back into course.

Deep breath. Relax, its rough but there is only 3 hours to go now.

Feel the wind blast…

Passed the calf of man and the gap between the mainland, I reached the Spanish Head, a big big, huge, enormous wall (pun intended) that provided shelter so I could take the sail down safely and motor to Port St Mary.

When I reached Port St Mary it was almost low water and the wall I was suggested to berth the boat was 20 meters high at that moment. I was supposed to approach that wall with 20+ knots winds throwing me toward it, secure the boat to the ladder, take two lines with 20+ meters, climb the ladder with the lines and secure the boat up there. Tired and alone. Not a chance… So I found a spot near the other moored boats and threw the anchor for the night. Still on time for the sunset…

Sunset view through the galley window

Proud of crossing on my own, it was time to enjoy the sunset, 2 big burgers, a bottle of prosecco and my own company. Happy days.

Day 2 – Time to explore the Island

Good morning Port St Mary.

The plan for the day was to have breakfast onboard, inflate the dinghy, row to shore, take a shower and go explore the Island. So I made my backpack, jumped on my dinghy and rowed to the wall.

Neil Collister saw me rowing there and kindly allowed me to tie my dinghy on his boat instead of bringing it all the way up the harbour safe from the tide which was on springs at the time and would go up 5 meters.

So I took my shower, got some tips about the Island and went for a walk around taking pictures like a classic tourist, went to Port Erin had some nice coffee on a local cafe and waited for the next train to Douglas. The Steam Railway is an attraction on it’s own and a must-do in the Isle of Man. 

Steam train @ Port Erin station

I got a cabin all for myself and the view was amazing.

What a trip… What a day…

Make sure to check the the dates, it doesn’t run all year. The ticket to Douglas was about 12£ return.

Douglas is the capital and largest town of the Isle of Man. The city is full of attractions including the Manx Museum (Manx, read as mænks, is a reference to Celtic people originating in the Island. Also tail-less cats). The Museum was free, which surprised me and felt that I had to leave a couple pounds in the contributions box. It presents 10.000 years of history of the Island and its Viking and Celtic past. It is a must-do as well. I also walked around the Marina and Douglas Bay taking pictures around. Looked for a pub to have some food (and beer of course) only to find out that their kitchens were all closed after 3:00pm, so I had beer and crisps for lunch. Class. Waited for the last train and back to Port St Mary.

Douglas Bay

Day 3 – Happy Birthday and the TT Race track on a classic 900cc Triumph Street Twin

So for those who don’t know, Isle of Man is internationally famous for motorcycle racing and has the title of “road racing capital of the world”. Its most famous event is the Tourist Trophy race or simply “The TT race”. A controversial racing event where more than one pilot dies every year! 2018 claimed 3 lives! Insane I know but as a motorcycle lover myself I had to give it a go so I went to Jason Griffiths Motorcycles and rented a classic 900cc Triumph Street Twin. The price was salty: 200£ a day + 1500£ deposit. Ouch. But it was my birthday and I deserved wanted it.

Triumph Street Twin 900cc. Fastest bike I’ve ever rode.

Quick tip: Do NOT go there on the 29th of September. The man who works there has his birthday on the 30th of September and since he does NOT work on his birthday, you’d have to bring the bike back the same day and still pay full price. He’d lent you equips for free though.

I wanted to go for the full racing track, so I was given a map and instructions to follow. It was incredible to see that people race on those roads at insane speeds of 200 mph with no wall protection or anything. At every corner there was somebody’s house or a pub or a church or a hill. They also drive on the left side of the road but I was already used to it for living in Ireland for a few years already. There was traffic at some points and I passed by a few very slow farm tractors. On the other hand, there is no speed limit at some points! And “the craic was 90 in the Isle of Man”. No, that is not a reference of speed in miles per hour. Trust me, I was doing 50 😉

Quick stop at the Great Laxey Wheel, the largest working waterwheel in the world built in 1854 to pump water from the Laxey Mines industrial complex. The mine used to produce lead, copper, silver and zinc and was closed in 1929. The entry price for the Wheel and Mines was 8£ at the time. The wheel is beautiful, check it out.


The mine is not so great… They give you a helmet to get in and you should be able to go all the all in and out in less than a minute. The wheel and mine complex has also some trails, but I didn’t have much time there.

So I returned the bike back to the shop safe and sound, got my 1500£ refund and hopped on a bus back to Port St Mary.

Went to the Albert Hotel pub, a 5 star rated “Great local pub” and also 1 star rated “Not great” (both probably written by social media raised millennials), for a few drinks and to watch Chelsea vs Liverpool. Apparently, everybody on the island cheers for Liverpool and you should have seem how happy they were when Daniel Sturridge tied the game at 89′. A guy was jumping on his friends back.

After the game and a few pints it was time to go back to the boat. I couldn’t drink much at the pub because I needed to climb down the ladder on the wall and row back to the boat. Wouldn’t be wise to do that alone and drunk. Good thing I still had wine and beer aboard. By the way, I ALWAYS have wine and beer aboard among some other heavier booze 😉

Day 4 – Day off

Went for a quick walk to sweat the alcohol and the hangover, bought some snacks and beers for the crossing back, payed for the mooring and said thank you and good bye to Neil. Back to the boat, dinghy in the locker, some checks and preps for the crossing next day, Instagram post, dinner, wine, set the alarm and good night! 

Day 5 – Crossing back with dolphins

5:00am and my alarm goes off. Quick breakfast, nav lights and instruments on, final checks and slipped the mooring line.

My strategy to sail back was basically the same: motor sail safely on reef 3 and mind the headsail when strong gusts hits. So there I went into the night back to Dublin rolling with the waves and dolphins!

It was daylight already when I saw these bottlenose dolphins around the boat. There was about 6 or 8 of them and I grabbed my phone and filmed. Such a nice way to start the morning.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bod466KHbq9

The crossing back was really boring and my autopilot would still not hold course with the waves aft the beam, so I kept steering and munching and had a couple beers to pass the time.

10 hours of boring solo steering sailing and the wind shifts to the nose earlier than forecast. So what should have been 2 hours of sailing on a straight course became 3 and a half of tacking (zig zagging). I was extremely tired at this point and in serious need to rest, so I engaged the autopilot with faith and it was able to handle a close-hauled course with the waves forward the beam. Went down, grabbed a pillow, came back to the cockpit and laid flat. For about 2 hours I would get up every 10 minutes and give a full look around. I was wrecked.

zig zag

At night already, I was entering Dun Laoghaire harbour when the wind started to pick up to force 6. Sails down, piloted to my berth and crashed the boat on the pontoon (gently haha). I jumped quickly to tie her as fast as I could. Checked the bow and the pontoon and there was no damage. Finished tidying the boat, went for a loong hot shower, dressed up, zombied my way to The Forty Foot, ordered a nice and cold pint of my favourite beer and the biggest burger they had on the menu: The Empire State. Took me 10 minutes to finish what tasted like the best dinner I’ve ever had. Zombied back to the marina to a force 7 to 8 winds! It was only an hour after I arrived and I thought to myself what would have happened if I was still sailing at that time on those conditions as tired as I was. I was so relieved it was over at that point and all I wanted was to sleep, but I was also feeling lucky somehow and that bothered me a lot. Luck is not something I plan to rely on and that made me less proud. Anyways… it was over, I had made it and I was safe. I needed to sleep, so I crashed on my bed with an uncomfortable feeling of “Do I really have to go to work tomorrow?”. Yes. I can do this…

Trip Summary: 5 days, 27+ hours of solo sailing with strong winds, 40 liters of diesel, 6 dinghy rides, 3 burgers, several scares, autopilot problems, a steam train, an electric train, a horse train (yes, you read it right), a 900cc classic bike, the full TT race track, a giant water wheel, a mine, manx cats, the usual pints, a football match and sailing with dolphins. Thank you Isle of Man for another great adventure.

We crossed the Irish Sea to Wales!

4th of August 2018. Only two months after Neverland was bought we started what was going to be the greatest adventure of our lives: Crossing the Irish sea to Wales!

Land Ho! Official crew picture after crossing the Irish Sea. – Wall of good memories

7am we met at the entrance of Dun Laoghaire Marina. Julius and Benjamin (two German guys who I met at a VHF Radio course) with two heavy bags of provisions that they self tasked themselves to bring. We had all the sailing plan discussed already and set sail shortly after we got to the boat.

The Germans were in charge of all the cooking and they even had a menu for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner! Impressive.

The Plan

The plan was pretty simple:

Day 1 – Sail to Wales (Porthdinllaen) and anchor there for the night. – Have Pub will Party!
Day 2 – Sail to Caernarfon (Victoria Dock) and explore the city by foot. – Play Settlers of Catan after.
Day 3 – Get back to Dublin. Alive. – That was the basic condition for the trip.

The Roles

Captain – Moi! Arthur: I make decisions aboard, keep the boat afloat, everybody safe, make sure we have what we need (or could need), plot the course, navigate, fly the drone, day drink and steer the boat of course.

Crew 1 and 2 – Benjamin and Julius and vice versa: operate the lines, sheets, winches, steer the boat, lookout for wild ocean life, fish (they fished a seagull), talk in German on my back (die arschloch), keep the kettle on and cook.

And after a week preparing the boat, fuel, fresh water tank, wine supply and board games we were good to go.

Day 1 – Dublin to Porthdinllaen

7:20 we started the engine, slipped the lines and made our way out of the harbour on a course of 112 degrees on the compass. We had the sails up but the wind was so light that we decided to take them down and motor. To be honest, we basically motored all the way to Porthdinllaen which, by the way, I still don’t know how to pronounce =/.

Half an hour on course and we started our breakfast on the cockpit, autopilot on and a sea so calm that was looking like a mirror.

Breakfast: Cereal, peaches, bananas and milk while at sea. Perks of an autopilot.

And that would continue for 12 hours of us taking turns on the wheel, sleeping, munching on snacks, sipping on coffee and appreciating the wild life that would eventually show their faces (or fins and tails). It was clear to me that sailing was a lazy experience that makes you want to lay down, relax and appreciate the small things that happens around you, like the sun shinning or a dolphin swimming by.

A sea so flat that its almost boring to steer…

5 hours into the sea and there was no more land on sight on any direction. It was the first time to experience that on a boat and it was alright you know? No fear, no tension or surprise, after all the plotter was showing land behind and ahead of us and we knew we were on the right course. It was a bit boring actually so we were always trying to do something to pass the time.

"-Dude, do you want a kitkat? I can get one there for you..."

We tried casting a couple lures with the fishing rod and after 2 hours without fish, we saw a shinning line passing the boat on starboard and we were like “WTF? is the boat turning into the fishing line or something?” then we saw a seagull flying by trying to get rid of something and realized that she had decided to invest on our lure and got entangled on it, so we slowed the boat and turned into the poor bird to help it. Luckily she got rid of it on its on leaving only a feather on the hook.

During the next few hours we saw a baby whale, some seals, a ton of jelly fish (some were the size of a car wheel!), loads of lobster pods that felt like a mine field and some trash floating around unfortunately.

And then… Land Ho!

Such a nice feeling to see land again…

Benjamin was the first to spot land in between the clouds on the horizon (we thought it was just clouds to be honest haha). After an hour or so it was clear that we have spotted Wales. It actually looks very close when you see it, but takes about 4 hours to get actually there.

20:00 we arrived at the anchorage area, found a spot in between other boats, set the anchor, had a shot of some heavy vodka the Germans brought and said a few words to celebrate, took a picture, had some quality dinner, poorly inflated the dinghy, attached the heavy outboard motor, learned to start it on the fly and went on shore to party! Phew… Did we need a pint of beer!

Getting to shore, four super dodgy junkie looking like lads out of the trainspotting film cast, beer on the hands, came by to say hi and ask where we were from. We pointed to the water and said kind of laughing: “From Ireland mates. We just crossed the sea on our boat”. They were like “Wow. Can we go to the boat?” Feck no!

So we dragged the dinghy up the beach safe from the tide and made our way to the pub. I kept an eye on the dinghy at all times.

It was almost night already when we hit Tŷ Coch Inn, a small pub in front of the beach (rated as one of the top 10 beach bars in the world according to some random blogger). They had a few welsh ale beers on tap that were pretty nice. Outside there was a DJ playing on a tent and while making our way through the people doing the floss dance, a local welsh stopped and looked at us: “-Excuse me! I am flossing like a motherf***er!” – his words I swear – and went back to flossing. We found an empty spot and stopped there to drink.

Few pints later and loads of chatting with the locals it was time to get back to the boat. There was only one problem, it was pitch dark and we couldn’t see more than 5 meters away. We had an idea of where the boat was. Sort of. So (luckily?) we found the boat, tied up the dinghy and called it a day. And what a day!

But not before noticing the sky. I’ve never seen so many stars in my life! The sky was absolutely clear and I opened my hatch and kept staring at it… Drunk of course..

Day 2 – Porthdinllaen to Caernarfon

"Good moooorning vietnam!"

Morning swim in cold water, breakfast, outboard engine and dinghy back in the locker, pull up the anchor and we were ready to go.

We tried calling and radioing Victoria Dock with no response, so we tried our luck and set sail hoping there would be a berth there for us. A gate schedule was in place due to the tides so we left on time before mid day.

3 hours later we were at the entrance of the channel. The charts (Navionics) were reporting extremely shallow spots when in fact the whole channel between the red and green buoys were absolutely fine all the way to Victoria Dock. 1 hour up the channel and we were there: Caernarfon (kær nar vin – this I know how to pronounce).

We entered Victoria Dock at about 3PM and surprisingly found an easy spot to park the boat. Tied the lines and went to the office to check in with the harbour master. “Can we get some fuel as well?” “Sure. You are already on the fuel pontoon anyway. You’ll have to move after.” It was too easy to be true right? But then a boat right in front of us left and we just dragged the boat out of the fuel pontoon. Easy after all.

"Hurry up. Let's go see the Castle before it closes!"

The day was stunning and the streets were busy as we went to Caernarfon Castle, a construction that started on the 12th century and was full of history including some references to King Arthur. The castle was beautiful and had walls around protecting the small town inside. The adult ticket for the castle was £9.50 at the time. Totally worthy.

After the castle, we walked around the town within the walls and then went to Ben Twthill. 10 minutes walking from town, the hill had an amazing view of the whole city and we also had some time to fly the drone from there.

Popped back down to the city to have a beer at the Black Boy Inn, a hotel/restaurant/pub dated back to the 15th century! We didn’t have any food, just a couple of beers at the pub. The staff there was super nice and friendly. The short ceiling was covered in notes of cash from different countries so Julius left a random Nepalese note. The bartender thought for a second that he was trying to pay for the beers with that money, but she quickly understood it was a contribution for the pub walls.

Back to Victoria Dock we went for a shower which was insanely hot by the way, I was boiling red when I looked in the mirror. I recon it is a big issue in Ireland as well. They have an individual tap for each and its usually too hot or too cold.

So… the touristic part of the trip was over at this point so when we got back to the boat we were already in a goodbye mood. So we sat down in the saloon one last time and played Settlers of Catan over some wine. Quick tip: do NOT play this game with Germans. I lost of course.

After the game we called it a day and left most of the things ready to set sail early next day.

Day 3 – Caernarfon to Dublin

Spoiler alert: We made it! Alive!

6:30 in the morning was the time set by the harbour master to open the gate. We topped up the fresh water tank and left Victoria Dock along with 2 other boats. One of them was heading to Ireland as well (Howth) so we used him as reference until he was gone in the horizon. #beaten

The current inside the channel was a bit strong plus the wind against it and some annoying waves were formed. 1 hour up the channel and we were back at the open sea. Sails up and 7 to 8 knots of speed to begin the crossing! (this is like over top speed for my boat that has a cruising speed of 5.5 knots) In fairness the wind was very favourable to us on our beam and we managed to sail back all the way to Dublin with 5+ knots with no hassle.

A few hours into the sea and we saw a British jet doing loops above us an even low passes on the horizon. Then dolphins followed us for a while (sadly we didn’t get them on camera) and we also spotted some other random stuff floating like lobster pods and sadly some trash.

12 hours of crossing and we were back inside Dun Laoghaire harbour, sails down, park the boat, tie the lines, have another shot of vodka, few words, a proud feeling in the chest and that was the end of a great adventure that we’ll surely remember and tell stories for the rest of our lives.

Thanks lads for such an amazing trip!

Wales Trip Gallery

Check Ben’s Instagram his pictures are awesome!

Next adventure: Solo sailing to the Isle of Man.