My Jester

It's not often you get the opportunity to have a pint with sailors you have read about for years.

There I was, in Pwllheli Sailing Club, swapping stories and asking questions of veteran Jesters. I have read about Blondie Hasler for years, the OSTAR, Jester Trans-Atlantics,  Azores, junk sails and all the associated names and tales.

Sunday morning, 14th June arrived and Roger Fitzgerald  assembled us on the pontoon for a briefing and a picture. The Jester Baltimore Challenge was a go.

This series of pictures are courtesy of Gareth Roberts of Plasheli, many thanks Gareth.

Missing from the picture is Andy Bedwell, probably polishing his fast craft, Outlaw !

During my 3 day stay in Pwllheli, the facilities were excellent and delivered with style. Top of my list for a return trip.

Most of these guys behind me have sailed more miles than I've had hot dinners, but I'm here to give it a shot.

Little ZigZag was in good company.

After a walk around, shaking hands and wishing well to the other challengers, I walked back to my little boat, butterflies in my stomach. I had crossed the Irish Sea three days ago, for the first time under sail and now I was heading off to cross back to Ireland, solo and overnight, for the first time.

What could possibly go wrong ?

I was late out and everyone got away before me. I didn't care, I was on my way. Dolphins arrived in the sunshine and I was delighted.

Here was one behind Steve Pickards boat, Springtide.  I gained on him after the start, but later, he gradually pulled away.

The first day progressed and I was busier than expected. Rolling along on a starboard tack, but a nasty chop also from starboard.

Amid the joys of juggling too many things, something gets hurt.

My first evening alone, night slowly closed in. Feeling good, I was going downwind by now, so at midnight, I actually goose-winged, in the dark. I had a preventer on the main and my jib poled out.
After an hour I got tired of rolling, so back to normal.

Beautiful Summer night and I think I saw the steady light of the International Space Station passing over. I was further from land than they were. A few big ships passed far away and some fishing vessels changed courses but on I went.

In the morning, lots of jet trails were overhead. It amused me to think they were probably using the same GPS system as I was, but they were doing 500 knots Eastwards and I doing 5 knots Westwards.

 The wind slowly died, as forecast, so I dawdled along. Sails flapped and I tried a chute but to no effect.

Are the Doldrums just a bigger version of this ?

The wind returned  and around noon, I looked up and saw Tusker. A bit of home in sight. It looked bigger and brighter than I expected.

The unsung hero of the trip was my autohelm. My inboard diesel died going into Wales and refused to start. Since I had to go back home, I had no choice, so I bought a battery charger in case I had to pull in somewhere. I checked the battery voltage every few hours.
It began at 12.8 volts and finished three days later at 12.5 volts. A 5 Watt solar panel was pumping what it could but I was pleasantly surprised at how little the steering used.

A Welsh fisherman called Chris, of Celtic Lady, saw my Irish flag and duly presented me with a combined Celtic Nations Flag. It was duly hoisted and it flew all the way home. Many thanks Chris.

 I was well clear and south of Tusker, so my next task was to pass south of Conningbeg Light. That took all evening, night and finally at 2 a.m. on Tuesday, I just squeezed past.

Now I know, I should have tacked much further south against the SW wind. I had the Saltees in sight for far too long, caught in a head-wind and east-going tidal stream.
Hook Head was on the wrong side of the boat and I was beating over and back.

Later on Tuesday morning, I radioed Rosslare for a forecast. They reported more SW winds and increasing to F6. Right on the nose. So I bit the bullet and headed back down-wind to Kilmore Quay.

Later that day, I met Steve Pickard and Springtide. Steve laid out my options very clearly. Several days of headwinds in a small boat or retire. Since I couldn't lay a course directly and a lot of sea miles ahead, I did what my mother always said to do when in a pickle. Sit down and think.

I showered, ate great fish & chips and decided my Jester was over.

I had sailed solo for 3 days and two nights, crossed the Irish Sea and I was delighted with what ZigZag and I had done.

Why do things look better in the sunshine ?

KIlmore Quay was a great spot to finish up and many thanks to Steve for his sage advice, both before the start and later in helping me determine my voyage.

Little ZigZag had behaved impeccably and I now have complete faith in her. I have read it many times, most boats have far more sailing in them than their skippers.

I went out to learn about myself as a single-hander and that I did. I now have an even greater appreciation of what it takes to be a long-distance solo sailor.
May I express my heart-felt thanks to Ewen Southby-Tailyour, Roger Fitzgerald and all the other Jester challengers it was my great pleasure to meet.

The Jester magic is only beginning.