Jilly's Rumblings

 

 

I’ve just got back from Grimsby via Wells-next-the-Sea………..

 

One of life’s’ big questions is WHY?

 

 

Why – when I was safely at home, tucked up in the warm, did I sign up to do another few days on Theo’s Future?

 

Why – when I had already carried out any professional responsibilities, above and beyond the call of my professional duty (my job is strictly desk bound – not watery at all) did I leave the safety of my office and set sail down the murky East coast?

 

Why – when I KNEW what I was letting myself in for, having already spent three days on Theo’s Future, did I choose to go back on board?

 

 Three possible answers come to mind

 

1. Amnesia … no, not that
2. Insanity … possibly, but I don’t think that’s the reason this time
3. The real reason is I strongly believe in the possibilities of what can come out of this amazing expedition – the fact that my few damp, painful, uncomfortable, slightly smelly days has raised around £1,200 - a small part of the £32,000 that Mike has already raised through his trip and this could lead to sight being restored and young lives being changed forever! What a result is that!

 Since my trips (yes, I am apparently the only one who went back for more!) I have regaled my family, friends and colleagues with countless salty old sea dog tales … classics such as the near episode with the portapotti … the magic flying kettle when we tacked … the epicurean delights of lunch on the move …the spacious hamster nest with a window to the stars … all such eloquent stories create a romantic picture of adventures on the high seas. I then realised that nobody … especially nobody who is unused to sailing … absolutely nobody understood what it was really like.  We have all read Mike’s blog as well as the stories from a few other crew members, and it is all very well to be brave about these things, but the problem is nobody else really gets a picture of what Colonel Mike Brooke has had to put up with since July 5^th. 

 

It is hard, hard, hard work – this is not just me having a moan, but I really do want everyone, particularly any land lubbers, to understand what Mike in particular, but all the crew have endured on this long expedition ….

• Getting up in the dark, early hours to catch the tide
• Hoping there might be a loo available before we set sail (sometimes it is a quarter of a mile away, or locked, or the boat is moored mid water)
• Motoring for up to 14 hours without a sail because the wind and the tides were against us
• Always being aware that there is a timetable to meet
• Having to shout above the sound of the engine for hours and hours
• Maneuvering around a small cabin, full of obstacles, with little floor space, that has been made much more claustrophobic because of all the bags full of extra necessities required for 12 weeks at sea. The persistent question is “has anybody seen my … (fill in any item…)” When my husband came to collect me, I proudly showed him where I had spent the previous few days, and he took one look through the hatch and said “I’m not going in there!”

• There is really no room or privacy to get dressed or do anything
• Performing unnatural gymnastics just to get in and out and around the cabin. I just don’t think there is a right place to put each foot or hand hold – I ended up with one foot on the cabin floor and the other one somehow was outside on the roof – one sudden jolt and I would have been torn asunder!
• Getting in to port after 14 hours hard sailing, feeling tired, hungry, grubby and then being asked lots of questions about the trip and the project – and not being able to say I’ll tell you later when I’m clean and dry and had something to eat – sometimes it really was a 24 hour job
• Getting in to port, tired and hungry and there is no one to meet  you or offer the key to the loo block or tell you where to go for a meal
• Doing radio interviews and dealing with other press and media – sometimes they are obstructive and sometime irritatingly persistent
• Being tired, tired, tired every day
• Being damp every day
• Trying to find the right people to sort out any mechanical or other problems with the boat when occasionally necessary
• Trying to find the best place to get fuel and then getting a taxi or other lift to carry the four containers there and back (almost every day in a new port)
• Missing family and not being able to call at many times because there is often no mobile link when at sea and often only a poor link when we get into port
• Worrying if something goes wrong at home and you’re not there to help
• For those of you, especially those who are not used to being at sea, it is hard to explain the problems of moving around the little boat and the cockpit when the sea is lumpy, sometimes it can be quite a white knuckle ride, often having to hang on with both hands to avoid being floored – that goes on for hours and is very, very tiring
• In my previous rumbling, after my first trip, I touched on the problems of the lack of sanitary ware on board - I’m not just talking about there being no gold fittings – there is practically no privacy (I owe my few remnants of  dignity to a tea towel from Padstow Lobster Hatchery – I must remember to send them a donation!) No more need to be said on that subject!!
• Even for a seasoned sailor, such long days of sailing are hard work. Theo’s Future is a brave LITTLE boat but many of the passages became major challenges because of her size.
• The whole trip is not an easy undertaking as became more patently obvious from the stories of the numbers of failed attempts of others trying to do a circumnavigation. Anyone who undertakes to do anything like this is either totally mad or a hero!

This list could go on and on but I don’t want to contaminate the website with too many negatives – I don’t feel like negative and nobody I was with ever complained … and would I do it again? Certainly if there is a chance that we can restore sight in anyone with LCA.

 

But there have been so many positives too. The kindness of strangers has been so wonderful and so very, very much appreciated. For me it has been a great privilege to have been able to undertake such a challenge with Skipper Mike and two other experienced and charming crew members (Patrick Clarke from Brixham to Falmouth and more recently, David Moore from Grimsby to Wells-next-the-Sea) and I have been thoroughly entertained with the most amazing military tales.)

 

However, my whole point with this rumble is to try to explain the enormous sacrifices that have been undertaken to raise funds for Professor Tony Moore, who has a good chance of finding the solution to the problem of LCA. If you have been thinking about making a donation please just stop and think what Mike and the crew have been through to try to make a difference, and perhaps you might be inspired to give a bit more (and if you have already given a donation consider how warm and dry you are right now, and you might want to add something extra to it!)