Blow-by-blow Account of the Event

We left Hayling Ferry Sailing Club on the evening of Friday 14th July aboard one of the Rescue RIBs, towing the Spitfire, bound for the Event Control Yacht 'Beagle' which was anchored in Stokes Bay.

The plan was to get a good night's sleep and an early start from a location close to our route. We were certainly up early enough to rig the boat, but only because we couldn't sleep - the brisk Northerly wind was making Beagle roll merrily even though she was in the lee of the land.

We decided to go clockwise around the Island and left Beagle at 8.30 am sailing on a close reach past No Man's Land Fort where we hoisted the asymmetric spinnaker and headed southwards in a building north-easterly wind. The Spitfire is a very wet boat downwind and there was a lot of water coming aboard; we thought heat exhaustion would be the problem with dry suits in mid summer so we wore very little underneath, but within a couple of hours we were both very cold from the deluge despite it being a hot summer's day.

The wet ride was also taking its toll on the electronics with both Bluetooth headsets and the primary GPS failing. We were not surprised about the headsets (since they were only water resistant) but losing the supposedly waterproof GPS was a surprise and a big disappointment because it was supposed to log our track. It did record a maximum speed of 26.7 knots before it failed. Luckily we had brought a spare GPS with us but it had no log facility and no chart information.

The first swim happened to the south east of the Island as the boat came out of a jibe with the spinnaker up and Richard at the helm. We were hit by a gust at the wrong moment and got blown over. Richard pulled himself around behind the boat to see Charles sitting on the boom: "Get off the boom you'll bend it!" was his first reaction, (it would not be the first time we have ended up with a banana spar after a capsize) to which Charles response was "I can't!" Charles had a loop of rope around his foot, which was being tightened by his weight. It took us several minutes to free him; luckily the boat showed no sign of inverting (turning turtle) otherwise we would have had to cut the rope. We both carry rescue knives so either of us could have freed Charles in a second but this episode was a reminder of how things can go wrong…..

Charles was visibly shivering at this point, not from the capsize but from the deluge of water that had been coming aboard for the past couple of hours (the crew sits in front of the helm so bears the brunt of it - Charles had been doing a sterling job of keeping the worst of it off Richard!) Once we got the boat up we swapped around and Charles took the helm for a while.

Punching through the overfalls off St Catherine's point with a Force 5 on the beam the capsize score was levelled. During the Fast-Cat race last year we had sailed through this area and nicknamed it the Washing Machine since it has very confused water (due to the local shape of the sea bed and its affect on tidal water movements). We came over a big wave with a very deep trough on the far side, and as the boat accelerated we did not bear away in time. The front half of the boat disappeared underwater and the rudders were suddenly above our heads.

The wind decreased as we moved westwards and the sea flattened out. Stopping for a routine position report we were joined by an exhausted homing pigeon that perched on the spinnaker pole for about 5 minutes.

By the time we had got around the Needles and were approaching Hurst Castle the boat was barely making headway against the tide - we spent a long time trying to get through the narrows trying firstly on the mainland side and then moving over to the Island side and creeping up close inshore.

Charles was a bit concerned about his mobile phone battery which, for some reason, was running down fast. A few minutes later Richard's wife 'phoned him, "Tell Charlie his mobile has called me 5 times in the last hour and I can hear him now. Oh and tell him if he phones me at 3 o'clock in the morning he's dead meat". Charles turned his mobile off.

Since we were close to Yarmouth we tried to call up the West Support Yacht 'Restless Too' on the handheld VHF, only to find the water had got into this too. Taking the battery pack out revealed a gooey brown mess, which we cleaned up as best we could and replaced the batteries with those originally brought along for the Primary GPS.

Once past Hurst Castle we anchored to prepare for the night time phase of the trip. It was so nice to relax in the sunshine for a few minutes - the first time we had been warm for hours (NOTE: at this point we would like to formally apologise to anyone on the shore who may have been distressed by the site of first Charles then Richard stripping down to their birthday suit on the trampoline). We had a hot meal (Cup-a-soup with hot water from a flask) put on our thermal gear and climbed back into our drysuits.

Progress up the Solent into the sunset was picturesque if slow but by the time we passed No Man's Land Fort in the eastern Solent again the northeast wind was increasing rapidly. The sun had gone, the moon had not yet risen and it was very dark. Given the darkness and the conditions we decided not to use the spinnaker so were square reaching downwind along the East side of the Island. It was windy (a good F5), choppy and the boat was surfing well. From the helm position Richard could just about see the bows but couldn't see any wave shapes and was helming by the feel of the boat and the noise it made as it accelerated down the waves. You have to be very careful on a small catamaran in these conditions - sail too high and the increased boat speed coupled with an unlucky surf may cause a pitchpole, sail too low and you risk a jibe. The jib provided a useful guide as to how 'low' we were because it would flap briefly as the apparent wind swung towards the stern as the boat decelerated at the end of a surf.

We were reporting our position every half-hour at night by mobile telephone, and to do this we had to heave-to (a common manoeuvre used to stop a sailing boat for a short period in which the jib and rudders are set to counterbalance each other so that the boat stops sailing forwards and drifts slowly downwind). From our point of sailing it meant doing a U-turn - it was a question of waiting for the boat to stop surfing, heading up and holding on as the boat accelerated through the wind before slowing to a stop as the wind came onto the nose. Then off with the helmet, wetsuit hat and gloves, get the mobile phone out, crouch in the lee of your crewmember and shout to make yourself heard above the noise of the boat and wind.

We ran into several patches of phosphorescence. A wave would come aboard and for a second the trampoline would be spangled with little green sparks.

Coming up to St Catherine's Point around the southeast of the Island we were still square reaching, sailing low to control the power of the boat in the gusts. Our course was approximately southwest taking us further offshore which was fine to begin with since we wanted to give St Catherine's Point a wide berth. Once past St Catherine's we would have liked to come onto a close reach but it was too rough and windy and we would certainly have pitchpoled. To get inshore we headed up to the wind and put the boat on a beat, controlling the power by luffing in the gusts. We had decided not to trapeze in the dark so it was slow, noisy progress.

The moon had risen by now and was providing us with more light but not enough to see much wave detail. Looking behind us it cast a lovely bright path of light on the water.

We had a scary moment during one of our routine stops when we noticed that Charles' testicles appeared to be glowing in the dark. Happily it turned out to be his Bluetooth headset 'low battery' warning light; the dying gasp of some electronic equipment not built for this environment.

As we sailed across Freshwater Bay the water flattened out and suddenly we were in flat water with lots of wind. We had a fantastic close reach up to towards the Needles with the first glow of the dawn appearing behind the Island. Once around the Needles we had a good beat up past Hurst Castle against the tide, leaving a couple of yachts for dead (it's childish but we still take pleasure in doing this….)

As on the first circumnavigation the wind dropped further as the boat headed east. The surface of the water was very calm but with those odd, greasy pools rising and spreading out here and there. Since it was now light we had gone back to hourly position reporting, and Charles was helming from the trapeze whilst Richard tried to snooze on the trampoline after 6 hours solid on the helm. At this point the boat was heading directly into the dawn, steady as a rock, with the windward hull just kissing the water, Charles watching the sun come up through a light mist: its 05.15 exactly.

With Southampton Water in sight the wind died completely and we anchored to wait for the tide to turn, weighing anchor with an hour to go. At 08:30 the 24 hours were up and one of the Safety Boats came out to tow us back to the Beagle for a beer.

In summary, it was exhausting, sometimes exhilarating and occasionally downright scary. We managed approximately 1 3/4 circumnavigations (exact distance to be confirmed) which is less than we had hoped given our best time around the Island of about 7 hours during one of the Fastcat races. However the Fastcat date is selected so that the tides are with you for most of the time, and you end up fighting the tide if you sail for any longer. This was always going to be a marathon rather than a sprint: the distance was important but completing the 24 hours was of greater significance. We were also unlucky to lose the wind at the times we were in the strongest tide.

So far the event has raised about £1,500 for the Rowans Hospice, the British Lung Foundation and the RNLI. You can still sponsor us if you wish, either via the online system (JustGiving) or through a pledge (see the 'Sponsorship' page).