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.