Places Features

There’s not much which might persuade me that a 5 am wake-up call is really worth it, but as I looked out across the Solent at the 1,800 yachts around me early on Saturday morning I was instantly convinced. 

Simply stunning - as sail upon endless sail punctuated the water.  I am struck by how peaceful it is, despite the fact that thousands of us were gearing up for an epic race.

Getting off the start line

I was onboard Eliza Rose – a 37 foot Bénéteau Océanis based in Poole.  Owned by fellow crew members Simon Brooker and Fiona Bradford.  She is part of SailTime Europe’s fleet - a business which leases time on yachts to members.

Starting at 0720, we made a good start, amongst the first few dozen – and fellow purple flags - in our class.

Keen sailor and press officer James Tuck was also onboard – mostly to make sure I didn't make too much of a mischief of myself -  and headhunter Jerry Collin – another SailTime member.  He was literally being ‘headhunted’ by his family.

They'd taken a day trip to the Island stopping at various points around the course to see if they could spot Jerry on our boat through their binoculars.  This provided great fun for his three children and huge entertainment for the rest of us, as he was repeatedly stalked by mobile phone calls to say ‘where are you now?’

Jerry Collin & 14 year old Sam Kinsella

14 year-old Sam Kinsella completed the magnificent seven.  He braved us awful adults to prove a valuable part of the team, nimbly darting below deck to provide hats, suncream and flapjacks whilst equally happy winching and ‘easing the main’.

Even though he was officially the youngest, I proved much more proficient at badgering skipper Jonathan with the ‘are we nearly there yet?’ ‘How many more hours?’ mantra.

Around four hours into the race, I started to turn green.  Literally.  Hugely embarrassing, but thank heavens I wasn't alone.  Fellow crew-mate Fiona joined me in taking a severe disliking to the rolling motion of the waves around the Needles; we were rather comically and unglamorously seasick within the same five minutes.

And we weren't even half way round!  I'm not going to the labour the point, but let’s say that to get rid of that icky feeling, the course flattening out around the back of the Island and a magic cup of tea and cheese roll did the trick.

Sarah sitting out on the rail

In much better spirits, I returned to my job of basically dodging the boom whenever we gybed and generally lounging along the side of the boat with my feet dangling over the edge in child-like style. 

One of the most beautiful and most memorable sights was just around the corner – hundreds of sails queuing around St Catherine’s Point.  The almost military looking line–up was just stunning.

A few moments of ensuing drama included a near miss with Cloudy Bay which meant rather a lot of shouting ‘water’, overtaking the beautifully restored Gypsy Moth, and much to my amusement, sailing alongside Stiletto – a boat which seemed much more my style!

After more gybing and skilful sailing by the rest of my crew, the finish was in sight.  Keen for a sprint finish, I asked how long it was likely to take.  The restless child in me was a little crestfallen by the ‘50 minutes’ response, but as we edged forwards, I willed the finish line closer.

Catching up with Gipsy Moth IV

Finally, after 9 hours and 14 minutes we crossed the line.  It was a calm homecoming – a few cheers and whoops, but more a gentle smiley exhaustion as we took in the welcoming beauty of Cowes marina in the sunshine. And that’s not a bad effort at all.

The more capable crew aboard Eliza Rose had done us proud and despite the beginner Burbedge antics, we were 480th overall.  (note: that bit only sounds good when you take onboard the total 1, 875 competitors!)

So, still swaying as my brain keeps telling the rest of me, we’re back on terra firma, after a truly amazing day.

And the memories I'll take with me?  The humbling view as you contemplate the thousands of people ahead and behind you, the restorative powers of a cheese roll and the delight of the absolute exhaustion after a long, active day.