We all arrived around 12 in Portsmouth, ready for adventure despite the bleak weather. Getting suited and booted with our oil skins we looked the part and bonded over our jacket potatoes in the warm galley. We then began the first intrepid leg of our voyage, all the way……. to Gosport!

We refuelled and set off at dusk. Pulling out into the Solent the light was disappearing fast, as we hoisted the yankee and stay sails but remained under engine power due to the light winds. We were then treated to a hot drink and biccy as a reward for our hard work.

We came up the Needles Channel in the dark and found an anchorage in Alum Bay. We then gorged ourselves upon a lovingly prepared dinner of pasta Bolognese and are currently looking forward to some well-deserved kip. But need to plan our passage to Alderney first to see what time we have to get up. To make sure we won’t drag our anchor overnight we are beginning an anchor watch which will ensure a great nights sleep for all! Can’t wait to keep you updated on this voyage!

Aaron, Luke and Erin

Contrary to popular belief; due to lack of communications, we’re still here. Adam hasn’t lost his cool, Martin’s hair hasn’t grown back, and Trump is in the White House. What aren’t safe however are locals of Guernsey after Brendan was released into the population sans coffee. Rachel heroically attempted to explain the dark arts of secondary ports to her mathematically illiterate pupils, resulting in damaged egos all round and shattered dreams of adventures on the high seas.

Our game of boat murder heated up today with a flurry of executions which even OJ wouldn’t have gotten away with (#ifitdoesn’tfityoumustacquit). Today’s victims won’t be too sorely missed as it was rather a case of survival of the fittest. Thus, it will surprise none of our dear readers to hear of the very timely demises of: Rory (pencil), Luke (friendly fire), Erin (torch), Adam (coffee), River (spoon), Brendan (plaster), Cameron (fender).

True to form, lunch was banging, kitchen chaotic and Brendan displaying admirable demonstration of leadership by delegation.  Macaroni cheese was enjoyed by all before a swift exit from St peters under a prodigious downpour. Not that the burden of this tragic state of affairs was shared equally, as a select few members of the port watch (mostly Luke) were making painfully slow progress with the washing up, which miraculously lasted the whole of the natural showers.

Sailing happened. Got to Stark. Authors are not nautically academic enough to make this worth describing.

After catching a buoy in the charming bay of Havre Gosselin, the authors were stunned to discover an absence of meat at the dinner table, luckily our intrepid Scot was able to forage a suitable alternative in the shape of Guernsey butter #januarydiet. Despite the culinary decisions, vegetable stew was lovely and gemma didn’t make us write that.

About to embark upon a plucky night sail, will update tomorrow, preferably from the comforts of the Ship Anson, hoping we make it, as the authors are dying of thirst.

Go well

Aaron and Rory​