I feel that I should start
this article by thanking certain people. Firstly the Foundation for Sport and
the Arts, without whose grant I would not have made it to the start line.
Secondly the Royal Western Yacht Club for having the courage to accept my entry
and for supporting me every inch of the way. Thirdly, Darren Newton of Dazcat
for designing and building such an amazing 30ft trimaran for me.
The season started with
Paradox being put back in the water at the end of April and a programme of race
training undertaken leading up to completing the qualifier for the race.
The race training was
carried out with Bob Beggs, a skilled single handed multihull sailor and also a
training skipper for the BT Challenge fleet. I was joined for the majority of
these sails by Andy Liddiard, a fellow paraplegic, and occasionally by Mike ‘the
Bike’, who has a brachial plexus injury, leaving him with the use of only one
arm, and ‘Pirate’ Ray, who is in need of hip replacements.
During these sails we were
able to test all the boat systems and go through various safety drills, very
important on a boat which regularly reaches speeds in excess of twenty
knots.
Finally the time came to
complete the qualifier for the race, which had to be the greater of a distance
of 300nm or 28 hours at sea. The Round Britain and Ireland Race is a two handed
race and this was to be the first time that I had undertaken a passage short
handed, so it was not without trepidation that I set off from Plymouth with Bob
Beggs. The start was very pleasant with moderate winds and the afternoon sun. We
were chased by dolphins at one stage which I took to be a good omen. As the sun
set the wind grew and pretty soon we were in big seas in the Western Approaches
with winds at the top end of a Force 6, occasionally gusting 7. Going to
windward in a multihull at speeds of twelve or so knots (even when reefed down)
makes for a wet, uncomfortable ride, with a large proportion of the boat out of
the water at any one time crashing from wave to wave. Dry suits are the order of
the day. My first night on the helm in pitch darkness was a memorable
experience, pounding over waves and occasionally going through them. The
crushing force of getting dunked by a wave from the side is hard to describe,
apart from being winded, there is a brief moment when you can not see where you
are going and you are not sure which way the boat is going to fall off the wave.
The weather and sea remained much the same for the next day and night as we
rounded the Scillies and headed off towards France. We covered about two thirds
of the way to France and then headed back towards Plymouth on the final day. As
we approached Lands End the winds lightened and for the last part of the 48
hours we were able to play with the spinnaker, regularly hitting speeds of 18
knots and at one stage over 19. This made a pleasant end for the qualifier and
left me looking forward to the race. The boat had proved to be exceptionally
sound and well sorted, with only one reef line chafing. The other thing that
came out of the qualifier was that breathable dry suits were needed and so a
couple of Musto survival suits were bought.
The 1st of June
soon came and Paradox was taken to Queen Anne’s Battery marina for the week of
pre race scrutineering and parties. As with all races, this proved to be a
hectic week of sorting out final things with the boat and polishing her bottom
to keep up with the opposition’s psychological games. With 41 boats ranging from
30 feet to 60 feet, comprising monohulls, trimarans and catamarans, entered in
the race there was a good atmosphere in the marina all week. By the Friday it
was becoming apparent that Bob Beggs’s other work commitments were too much, so
it proved necessary to have a last minute crew change. Chris Briggs took the
brave decision to step in. Although he has a lot of trimaran experience he had
never met me before, nor sailed on Paradox. His first sail was to be out to the
start line!
Race day proved to be pretty
windy with quite a swell in Plymouth Sound. Having seen videos of previous races
it was great to be out in the start area, with all the entrants sizing each
other up, at the same time avoiding the spectator and press boats, whilst being
buzzed by helicopters.
Heading out to the start we
discovered that the log was not working (it had been damaged when we were
cleaning the bottom). This meant that we would have no speed or true wind
information for the whole passage. On the final tack before our approach to the
start line, Chris and I managed to put Paradox in irons due to lack of
co-ordination between us and so missed the gun. When we got going it seemed that
we were last boat across the line. At least we had clear air and so soon built
up speed. By the time we passed the breakwater we seemed to have passed everyone
except the larger multihulls. We managed to hold off the two Open 60s as far as
Eddystone lighthouse and from then on it just seemed to be us and the sea. Chris
quickly settled into the rhythm of the boat. It was good to escape all the pre
race pressures. During the rest of the day and the night we occasionally crossed
tacks with some of the larger monohulls or saw lights in the distance. By 6
o’clock the following morning we had reached Bishop Rock light house off the
Scillies. As we approached we could see the Open 50 Jeantex rounding it with
another monohull, which turned out to be Telegroup. We rounded close to the rock
and set off on the reach for Crosshaven. By now the weather had set in and it
was grey sea and grey skies. We quickly passsed Telegroup and set off in pursuit
of Jeantex, passing Ellen and David after about half an hour. The only other
boat we saw on the whole reach was the 45 ft catamaran Pegasus of Peter Kinch,
which we blasted past about a third of the way across. Peter’s son, Ralph, who
was on watch at the time said we passed in a ball of spray. I knew I was racing
as I had never pushed Paradox so hard before. She behaved extremely well, never
giving cause for concern even when I managed to bury both the outrigger and main
hull as far back as the crossbeam. Water was just streaming along the boat the
whole time. We must have been hitting speeds approaching 20kts. Buying the
survival suits had proven to be a good decision. Both Chris and I had bruises
around our torsos where we had been crushed in the helming chair by waves coming
over the side. We arrived at Crosshaven at 17.30, completing the crossing in
29.5 hours. We were surprised to find ourselves as the second boat in Class V
(30-35ft), being beaten by a 34ft trimaran Shockwave, which had been extremely
well sailed by Ralph Marx and his crew. More surprising was that we were eighth
overall, being beaten by a 43ft tri, two 40ft tris, Shockwave, both Open 60s and
a 40ft monohull. We had beaten both Open 50s by over two hours and reaching is
supposed to be their speciality!
We discovered that we had
damaged both rudders en route, both missing a ‘T’ foil on the outboard side. One
outrigger also had an unhealthy amount of water in it, which we presumed was
from a leak around the rudder stock caused by the out of line forces causing it
to bend and crack its housing. Undeterred we spent the night partying. The
following morning we found a local boat builder who repaired the rudders for us
and we fitted a spare rudder to save time when the other rudders came back. We
listened to tails from the boats that had arrived during the night and that
morning. The winds had picked up to over 40 knots during the night – thank
goodness for a fast boat. One trimaran had hit a channel buoy having crossed the
finish line and the damage forced them to retire. Several other boats had
retired, including all the French multihulls. The 48 hour stopover soon passed,
checking out the boat and carrying out repairs, and we set off out for the
second leg. Again the winds were strong and as we screamed off under storm jib
and two reefs in the main, we soon realised that the spare rudder was not
aligned correctly. So we returned to port to fit the original rudder in its
place. By the time we had finished we were both shattered and so took the
decision to set off the following morning. It was a shame to give up the lead we
had worked so hard for on the first leg, but it was the prudent thing to do. We
later learnt that the 40ft trimaran FPC Greenaway had nearly picth poled off the
Fastnet during the night when caught out by a gust over 40kts. We set off the
following morning in sunshine and moderate winds, reaching Fastnet rock in 6
hours, hitting speeds of 18 knots – this was more civilised.
By now there was a huge
Atlantic Swell mixed with waves from the previous night’s strong Northerly
winds. The winds seemed to head us all the way around Southwest Ireland, not at
all what had been forecast. By 1700 hrs the following evening the wind had
finally gone South/South Westerly and eased as forecast and we set a reach for
Barra doing a steady 12 knots. It was very relaxing after the battering of going
to windward. That evening’s weather forecast gave Northerly Force 7 for the
evening and night – we were going North. It seemed hard to believe, given that
the wind had only just gone southerly. I had decided at the outset to
demonstrate that my seamanship was of a high standard to show there is no danger
in disabled sailors taking part in such races, so we decided to seek shelter in
the Shannon, at Kilrush marina. The forecast wind did not come through for
another sixteen hours which was disheartening, but I still believe we took the
correct decision. That was the night Eric Tabarly was lost off his boat Pen
Duick off Milford Haven. In Kilrush we discovered that the outrigger was still
letting in water and attempted some further repair and took the opportunity to
have repairs done to the mainsail and screacher by Elizabeth Saunders, a local
sailmaker. All the staff at Kilrush marina were very friendly and helpful. I had
left my wheelchair, shoes, washbag, etc in the support vehicle to save weight
(we were racing, after all) and they soon rustled up a wheelchair and gave us a
lift into the town to buy supplies. When the wind finally went Northerly it sat
on us, so we did not get away until about 1600 on Sunday. Getting in and out the
marina lock in a 25ft wide trimaran in a side wind was a good test of
seamanship, but we left without damage. On leaving the Shannon, the sea was even
more confused than before and we were about two to three days behind most of the
fleet. The outrigger with the leak was to leeward and seemed to be going under
the water too often for my liking. If I had been sponsored I would probably
pushed on until something broke or worse, but as I would have to pick up the
repair bills I took the decision to retire. We dropped the mainsail and returned
to Crosshaven. We were the ninth boat to retire from the race. I think we showed
that a paraplegic can race both competitively and safely in an open event
without any concessions. More importantly we had had fun and we and the boat
lived to fight another day.
On talking to the winners
back in Plymouth they said it was the worse Round Britain of the five that they
had ever done. So, although I did not complete the race, I truly believe it was
a case of ‘Mission Accomplished'. I hope my experience encourages other disabled
sailors to aim high and take part in top level offshore events.