The Titanic Moment - A Confession of sorts - 2:20 PM, Sep. 18, 2005

I dithered for some time before deciding to leave this section out of my last entry Another Solo Effort because I thought it a little foolish. However it seems like such a glaring omission on re-reading that I have decided to make amends with this Captain's Log Supplemental which belongs after the parentheses in the description of Tuesday 6th September.

The wind was a point or so free and the reefed sails were well-trimmed (if I say so myself!) with all my home-made tell-tales streaming aft in the fresh breeze. Visibility was improving and the sea was modest and regular. Silkie was well-heeled and beautifully balanced and when I put the tillerpilot on it immediately steered a remarkably straight course (it usually requires a few minutes to settle down.) On the pretext of raising my eye level to look for waves between Lismore and Lady's Rock (how sad is this; single-handed and I have to find a justification for doing something I want to do just for the buzz) I clipped on and clambered up to stand on the windward quarter, holding on to a backstay with my left hand.

Pure exhilaration! Silkie forged ahead with a bone in her mouth, half rising to the waves and half slicing through them. From my elevated vantage point she seemed smaller than usual but at the same time purposeful, resolute even, and immensely powerful. Sure, I had set her up before leaving the cockpit but now it felt as if she could sail on forever without any interference from me. I was as high as a kite and laughed out loud for sheer joy.

At that moment the air was rent by the sound of an unsilenced piston engine. I looked astern and was astonished to see what appeared to be a WW2 fighter, complete with olive-drab camouflage, roaring towards us and literally skimming the tops of the waves. As she passed perhaps 50m away I gave a huge wave and could clearly see the pilot return my salute from inside the cockpit bubble. I swear his (her?) head was no higher than mine!

In all I stood there for perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, rising and falling with the rhythm of boat and sea and drinking in every moment. One of those sails that you know will shine in your memory for years to come.

So there you have it. I hope it wasn't too silly but I had to let it out.