The Homecoming
Posted by Graham Cox
Come, my friends,
‘Ulysses’, by Lord Alfred Tennyson
‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars…
When John Guzzwell, our MGR Race Patron, brought TREKKA home to Victoria, BC, on 12 September 1959, his 20ft 6in yawl became the smallest yacht to circumnavigate the world solo under sail, a record that stood for many years, and John was elevated into the ranks of legendary small-boat voyagers, even though his modest disposition meant that he might not have received the widespread fame accorded to later voyagers.
There are only a handful of people in any generation who can influence the zeitgeist. TREKKA’s voyage, and the book John Guzzwell wrote about his circumnavigation, TREKKA ROUND THE WORLD, became beacons of possibility that inspired generations of sea dreamers – and continue to do so. His courage, skill and determination shaped the future of micro-yacht ocean voyaging, and led ultimately to the development of the 2025 Mini Globe Race.
John Guzzwell’s life was upended by WW II and the death of his father shortly after hostilities ended. Although he completed an apprenticeship in timber joinery in the following years, he was, by his own admission, somewhat lost and directionless as he entered adulthood. Out sailing with a friend, he remembered the dream he’d had in prewar years of making a long, small-boat voyage, and decided to pursue that vision. His story offers the perfect template for anyone wanting to ‘seek a newer world’.
Since TREKKA came home, the record for the smallest yacht to circumnavigate has been broken several times – with an 11ft 5in sloop, ACROHC AUSTRALIS, currently being the smallest – and yet only a handful of micro-yachts (6.5m or less) have completed solo circumnavigations. Even taking into account a small number of voyagers who did not seek nor gain publicity, I think the number is around 10-12.
Starting on the evening of 07 March 2026, with the arrival in Falmouth Harbour, Antigua, of the 2025 Mini Globe Race (MGR) winner, Renaud Stitelmann, aboard CAPUCINETTE, and extending throughout the following week, that number has been expanded by another 11 boats and intrepid skippers.
After racing 24,000 miles around the world, the MGR fleet arrived back in Falmouth Harbour within days of each other, with not one boat suffering serious structural failure. Apart from some wear and tear on spars and sails, the boats are as sound as the day they departed Antigua on 23 February 2025. This is the true measure of the of the MGR’s phenomenal success.
There can only be one official winner of the MGR, but all these sailors are winners of an extraordinary (in every sense of the word) personal odyssey. As Amby Burfoot, a famed long-distance runner, noted, ‘Winning is about struggle and effort and optimism, and never, ever, ever giving up.’ This perfectly sums up the efforts of the MGR skippers. They are all heroes.
Although Renaud says that he is unable to grasp the reality of his success yet, there can be no doubt that his win cements his place among the legendary long-distance solo ocean racers like Bernard Moitessier, Robin Knox Johnston and Philippe Jeantot. Having swept the board of every stage and leg of the MGR, as well as the qualifying event, the 2025 Globe 5.80 Transat, often sailing at phenomenal speeds, his brilliance is beyond question.
When I spoke to him an hour before he crossed the finish line, he said, “I am done in one hour and twenty minutes. I don’t know how I feel – it’s just something unbelievable – something that never happened to me before.”
When I mentioned that he would now join the ranks of legendary long-distance solo ocean racers, he said, “I don’t feel this. Maybe it’s normal that I don’t feel this – but yeah, this is something very special for me and I don’t know what to say. It’s a dream with the eyes open.”
Speaking of his success, he modestly said, “Each time I had a lot of luck. This last passage from Recife, I had lots of luck with Pilar. She made two or three mistakes along the Guyana coast and then I was able to take the lead.”
Asked how he felt, physically, he said, “I am very tired. Coming from Guyana, trying to find these currents along the Caribbean islands, then I find the current but it was against the wind, so the waves were just powerful. The boat was bam, bam, bam all the time. So not possible to sleep with the noise and with the movement.
“I was hoping it would be better from Barbados, but there were many squalls. There were these big black clouds coming towards CAPUCINETTE all the time. You don’t know if you will get wind or rain or nothing, and I had one night I had 15 of them. So, 15 times you put nearly all your sail down because the wind would go up to 40 knots or maybe more. This is for 10 minutes, and then after you have to put all your sails back up again.
“In the daytime, the wind turned a bit north, so I had to hand-steer to be sure that CAPUCINETTE could clear the east point of La Desirade (a small island to the east of Guadeloupe), because I did not want to go between Guadeloupe and La Desirade. I don’t know why but it was my feeling.
“So this was my day, today, sailing from La Desirade to Antigua. I was sometimes a bit slow. I was caught by two small fishing buoys, about 5m apart, with a line between them. Luckily, it was just at the front of the keel, it was not between the keel and the rudder, so I was able to back the sails and reverse off. Plus, I had again problems with the Sargasso weed, which was everywhere. So yes, I am happy to arrive!”
Speaking about the upwind slog against the NE trade winds, especially since he chose to follow the currents closer to the islands, he noted, “It was a hard challenge to keep the speed in those conditions, and the boat is not made to do that kind of sailing upwind against the waves, but the boat is very, very solid, very resistant. With all the shock on everything, the boat is still in perfect condition.
There have only been minor gear failures. “I blew my A3 along the French Guyana coast on the last day of downwind sailing, but I did not need it afterwards, and yesterday I broke the aluminum welding on the frame of one of my solar panels, due to the pounding the boat was taking.”
Renaud had previously joked that he would probably be arriving just when his scheduled call was due, and that we would be on the phone when he crossed the line! As usual, he sailed faster than predicted, and arrived 24 hours earlier. But he honoured his promise to call. “I am seven miles from the shore, so I can see the lights, I can see the island, and yeah, it is great, but I will have to go on the deck again now to check everything, to be sure that there is not a fisherman, or whatever, in front of CAPUCINETTE.”
A short time later, with a broad smile for the cameras, Renaud sailed into the harbour that CAPUCINETTE had left377 days earlier, having visited 15 ports in 13 countries along the way. His elapsed time was 180 days 11 hours 25 minutes and 57 seconds, and his average speed was 5.54 knots, or 133 miles a day – extraordinary statistics for a 5.8m yacht.
Asked what he planned to do next, he said, “For the next few months I plan to do nothing!”
This final week saw some interesting posts from the skippers as they closed in on Antigua. Josh, who had emerged as the poet of the MGR, penned, “The last of things. The last few nights spent watching a billion stars wheeling across a black sky, with nothing more to do than contemplate my own mortality. The last views of the Southern Cross, fading into the distance like an old friend waving goodbye from a slowly-departing train. The last few times being rocked to sleep by the sea, like a mother’s hand on a baby bassinet, with the sea whispering a lullaby against the hull.
“These times have a sweet sadness about them, like eating the best piece of cake you’ve ever had, that just happens to have been served at the funeral wake of a dear friend. Time pries away all things eventually, and it’s best not to lament what has passed but to cherish what was gained – good friends, a wealth of fond memories, and an experience that can be imitated but never replicated. It feels like waking from a dream in which one just received everything they ever wanted, and I would like to thank everyone who made this dream possible – Iam forever in your debt.”
Pilar, holding firmly to second place, and just over 40 nm behind Renaud on the last day at sea, wrote, “PETER PUNK has been happy for days now. I think he’s aware of everything he’s done despite his small size… sailing around the world! He’s seen so many places, made new friends (other Globe 580 sailors), and sailed across vast oceans! But the greatest gift has been me being able to count on him for this adventure. He’s never judged me, accepted my successes and my failures… and yet he remains my loyal friend. He knows we’ll have to part ways, but even though I’ll cry, he doesn’t mind; he’s open to new adventures that will make him happy! Thak you, Peter! You will always be in my heart.”
Pilar sailed in to Falmouth Harbour 7 hours after Renaud, to secure second place for this leg. It was perhaps fitting that her arrival coincided with International Women’s Day. Pilar is the first Spanish woman to complete a solo circumnavigation of the world, and along with Jasmine, the first to do so in a micro-yacht. Due to slower passage times in the early stages, she will not secure a podium finish overall. Her performance had steadily improved over the course of the race, and if the MGR was starting now, she’d be a sure contender for line honours.
Dan, who had lagged a little in the early days after departing Recife, worked IMMORTAL GAME back into 3rd place for this leg, and second overall. On 04 March, he posted, “It has been a testing couple of days out here. I made the strategic decision to sail west to a current system that supposedly runs up the Caribbean coastline, only to find it doesn’t appear to be here. Further, I am constantly battling through sargassum which is covering the keel, rudder and Hydrovane. Despite freeing the weed consistently, I’m finding it is getting covered again almost immediately. Aside from that, I have recently passed a number of Guyana oil rigs and am now writing this update before going to clear the rudder again.”
Later, he said, “I feel like this last leg is a test of endurance. Mental endurance at that. It might be the bounce of the boat, the seaweed – so thick in the ocean that it can be slept on like a mattress – or it might be the creeping feeling of being homesick. Either way, nothing beats the knowledge that the end is a hundred nautical miles away, and we have completed the challenge of independent solo voyagers who have circumnavigated the globe.”
On 06 March, he noted, “After another long night of dealing with squalls and sargassum, I have now passed Barbados and am once again back in the Caribbean Sea after more than a year! Now, less than 250 nm to the finish!” His final Facebook post for the voyage showed Dan grinning at the camera, with the hills of Falmouth Harbour ahead of the bow. He was looking quite trim, having lost 20kg during the passage, a measure of how tough this final stage had been.
On 05 March, Keri, who had clawed his way back into 4th position, reported, “The Sargasso weed is not too bad today. Overnight, I sailed through great rafts of it, spanning 100m or so. There was no escape – just an endless cycle of clearing the rudder and Aries vane with my SUP paddle, and rounding up every few minutes to try to clear the keel.
“Inside the cabin, you hear the Shhhh of weed passing against the hull. At least it is a valuable and diverse ecosystem, and delicate and beautiful in form – otherwise I would surely hate it with a passion… I am in the full flow of the Guiana Current now, so perhaps that is why so much has accumulated in my vicinity?”
Keri arrived in Falmouth Harbour around 19 hours after Renaud, to secure 4th place for this Leg and 3rd place overall. ORIGAMI swept in under her famous red A3, which Keri had flown in several starts, including the MGR’s first leg from Antigua to Panama, on 23 February 2025. He was looking very fresh and dapper. By his own admission, he finds the discipline of life at sea to be less challenging at times than being ashore!
Although he struggled to define his most momentous memory, possibly ORIGAMI’s 6-day non-stop passage from Durban to Cape Town, during which they ran a stupendous 217 miles in 24 hours under pled-out jib, will remain the most vivid. Only two other yachts, both 50-footers, have matched this passage time.
Jakub and BIBI arrived in Falmouth Harbour at 0045 UTC on 09 March, 11 hours ahead of his dear friend and arch rival, Adam, to secure 5th place for this leg and 6th place overall. He mentioned that this had been the hardest leg, and that he was totally exhausted. His sails have been steadily falling apart and he nursed BIBI over the line with a torn jib that he had just slapped a temporary patch on a few hours earlier. His exhaustion probably accounted for his somewhat subdued arrival. We have all grown used to his amusing antics and costumes.
Because of his exhaustion, and the fact that he arrived shortly before his scheduled call, we did not manage to talk this week. He did say that he has now decided to ship BIBI back to Ireland, rather than sail home as originally intended.
Adam sailed LITTLE WREN home some 11 hours after BIBI’s arrival, to secure 6th place for this leg and 5th place overall. A few days ago, he said, “This could be LITTLE WREN’s last entrant’s report! Progress has been great, although slowed today with counter-currents and squalls. Oh, and weed. Small repair made to mainsail below 3rd reef. Otherwise, on she goes relentlessly.”
I had a final at-sea conversation with Adam when he was just 14 miles out from the finish. “I’m almost starting to count the chickens,” he joked. “We had quite a blow through the night. The following sea has just eased off a little bit now. I’ve been sailing on jib only. It has been quite rolly, and a bit squally, with quite a few showers, but nothing too bad.”
His mind was flooded with memories, the good, the bad, and the downright hilarious. Like the time when he was sitting in LITTLE WREN’s cockpit in Hiva Oa, enjoying a cup of coffee, having just come back from a few days at Tahuata Island, where he’d been swimming with other entrants. His beard had grown quite long during the 4000 nm passage from Panama. To his astonishment, a small crab fell out of his beard onto his lap. “I am not sure how long it had been using my beard as digs!” He calls it his ‘getting close to nature’ story.
Asked how he was feeling as LITTLE WREN sailed the last few miles, he said, “I’m not quite sure I know, Graham. I’ll let you know in a day or two. It still feels like it’s just another passage. I have to say, when I actually saw Antigua about an hour ago, the penny started to drop a little – this is the only place I’ve been to twice! It must be that I’ve been somewhere else in the meantime, and therefore possibly have sailed around the world, but it hasn’t really sunk in.”
Once he stepped ashore at the National Sailing Academy in the early morning light, after a quick tour of the harbour, where various boats blew their horns and shouted congratulations, followed by warm greetings from fellow competitors and the Ella Dawson Foundation team, he said that it was finally sinking in. He’d done it.
The man who only started sailing 7 years earlier, who’d never built a boat before, had done it, although he was quick to point out that it was with a great deal of support, from his partner and race manager, Kerry, who no longer had to wait in dread for the emergency phone call, to other family, friends, the Ella Dawson Foundation, sponsors and last but not least, Don and Jane McIntyre, founders and administrators of the 2025 Mini Globe Race.
“If I can do it, anybody can. It’s taken an awful lot of determination, selfishness, grit, putting up with all sorts of doubts. My initial idea was to make sure I got to the start line. And then if I was to be able to complete the Atlantic crossing, that was going to be quite amazing. And everything else was a bonus. Since then, LITTLE WREN and I have bonded. I’ve learned more and more about how to deal with big ocean sailing, and how to deal mentally with the challenges of it. And here we are, it’s nearly done.”
It is no secret that Adam felt stressed at times, and even contemplated giving up (perhaps not too seriously, in the big scheme of things). Asked what advice he would give to others in similar circumstances, he said, “I think you’ve got to try and put these things into small parcels and not look at too big a challenge. Take it one step at a time. When I felt so down at Cocos-Keeling, I was thinking that we were not even quite halfway, and that was daunting.
“I’ve also learned a lot about how to deal with expectations. I built an expectation in my mind of what Cocos Keeling was going to be like, and the passage to Cocos-Keeling, and then when it didn’t quite turn out as I wanted it to, for various reasons, I went into a sort of decline. I’ve learned how to deal with knowing that expectations sometimes aren’t as they should be, to cope with that, reset and move forward. I think a lot of these things are perhaps caused by coming into them with unrealistic, over-romantic views.”
Asked for final comments, he said, “I just keep looking and smiling at my South Atlantic windvane. It’s such a simple, small bit of kit compared to all the others, and it just keeps trucking away. I did have a slight problem with it two or three days ago. I hadn’t done my daily checks of everything, and there were a couple of nuts that had loosened. I tightened those up, which was a 30-second job, and off she went again.”
Speaking of self-reliance, he added, “In a normal environment (like ashore), you can probably put things right when problems occur, but you often find somebody else to blame, or you get some help, or you moan about it and say, I’ll do it in a week’s time, or you brush it under the carpet. When you’re alone on a little boat, thousands of miles from land, you just have to get on with it. There is nowhere else to turn, there is nobody else to come and help, so I think that’s probably been a big part of this journey for me, and I hope it will affect how I deal with problems and issues going forward. I think I’ve learned quite a lot about myself in that respect.”
LITTLE WREN’s voyage has been more than just a personal odyssey for Adam. He has also been fundraising for the Ella Dawson Foundation, which provides support for young people living with cancer. He said, “There has been a noticeable pickup in donations during the last two, three days, coming in through my ‘Just Giving’ page. (https://www.justgiving.com/page/adam-waugh-1). It’s been very humbling seeing all the donations coming in, big and small. Jane Dawson keeps saying that there are real people being helped because of the money that they’re getting from LITTLE WREN’s passages every day. We are making a difference here, which is very exciting.”
On 06 March, Christian wrote, “Quite uncomfortable sailing at the moment. The equatorial current is not as strong as expected. We will see how we will get out of this further north. Looking forwards to being back in Antigua.” Despite his pain and discomfort, ARGO was making steady progress, and was sitting in 7th place on the evening of 07 March, making 6 knots over the ground, with 280 miles to go.
I had a long chat with him on 09 March, his last full day at sea. “It’s one of the toughest legs so far in the whole MGR. I’m tired on a level that’s really crazy, emotionally and physically. On top of my shoulder pain, I have an infection in my left ear and I’m putting some drops in. For them to stay in, I have to sleep on my right shoulder, which is the bad one.
“And the movement of the boat is just crazy. The winds are quite strong. We’ve got squalls, so I’m basically sitting with the jib and main in the second reef, sometimes third reef. Sometimes it softens a bit and I pull the A7 up. The A7 works quite well for the angle, but the boat is easily overpowered.
“I’m sleeping on the high side. I’ve also got 40L of water on the high side, and my life raft as well. So, I’m trying to do what’s possible, but sometimes when the squalls come, I just drop the main and go a bit further down and wait until it’s over, so I’m going to leeward (of the rhumbline) again. The sea-state changes a lot. There’s a lot of underwater mountains and stuff, and sometimes the sea-state is just crazy.”
Apart from the sails, ARGO is in good shape, although there was one small surprise. “I don’t know since when I was missing the nut on the bolt that connects the tiller to the rudder. I check my gear regularly, but maybe I missed that before, or it just happened. There was a self-securing nut that was on it and it was just gone. I was lucky that the boat was heeled to the right side, so that the bolt didn’t work itself out.”
He had a spare nut, but it was stowed right up in the bow, necessitating a crawl up into the forepeak as ARGO crashed along to windward. Then he found 4cm of water sloshing around up there, but was relieved to find it was fresh water that had leaked from a spare container.
Nonetheless, it was not an easy task. “The sun was brutally heating up the boat, and I was not sure if I was sweating more into the front compartment than I was taking out with the sponge. The motion was really bad, and in the front compartment there’s not much space to sit, or move with all the sails and stuff I’ve got in there, medical kit and everything that’s stored there. I’ve got bruises all over my body from hitting myself against the boat.”
Sargasso weed has been a curse. “Because of my silicone anti-foul, I can’t try to get rid of the weed that’s wrapped around the leading edge of the keel. If I put a rope under there, I would damage the edges. Even at the rudder, because of the way it’s connected to the skeg, the weed just gets stuck and it’s impossible to remove it. The paddle of the servo-pendulum wind vane is pretty far behind, and the weed doesn’t stay long back there.”
The weed definitely slows ARGO down. “I can feel it when I am going through a really big patch of seaweed. I try to avoid them in daytime. When I am hand-steering, sometimes you can feel that the boat is moving a bit differently, and you look at the water and you almost do no speed through the water at all. The movement of the boat eventually gets rid of most of the seaweed, but it takes some time.”
Contemplating the end of the voyage, he said, “On one hand I’m a bit sad to pretty soon be out of this mode. We got adapted to that, to cross oceans and to meet in another port with the MGR family, and to meet new people, to see new cultures and new islands, and I will for sure miss that. On the other hand, I’m tired on a level that I didn’t imagine before, and it will be good to get a rest from that.”
He is still dreaming of other voyages. “The stopovers were really nice and I enjoyed them, but they were just too short because we were in race mode, and rushing around the world. For me, there has to be another second circumnavigation where I have more time. But I’m so happy that I had the possibility to leave my old life behind me, working from 6am to 9pm. I have no intention to go back to that.
“I think I have changed a lot, though I don’t know yet because I’m surrounded by people who are doing the same crazy stuff! I think it will be clearly visible when I go back and meet my friends.
“I didn’t have any real sailing experience until 2007, when I started to sail with my uncle in the British Channel. I had never crossed the ocean before, and sailing-wise that changed me a lot. I didn’t know what it would do to me, to sail that long distance, and sail singlehanded. Since Lagos, it was just a crazy adventure with challenges growing from leg to leg. I’m getting more and more aware of what I just did here, in a home-built boat, and that makes me kind of proud, that’s for sure.
“On the first passages, until Panama, I didn’t have Starlink. For instance, I had one single weather report from Lagos to Lanzarote, and with the Iridium network, I was not able to have conversations via WhatsApp. Connection was poor and very difficult. Plus, I had not much experience with sailing, the boat was completely new to me, so I was busy all the time doing stuff and keeping the boat in shape and trying to sail as good as I can, and learn a lot about the boat, about sailing with the windvane and stuff. I was pretty busy.
“I had Starlink after Panama, but it was barely working on the first leg because I had problems with electricity, and the system as it was planned didn’t work (he had the wrong subscription plan). I finally had the possibility to be more connected to friends and family, but I had a lot of personal issues on my mind and it was really an emotional rollercoaster.
“It was a very long leg – 4,600 miles. I never experienced something similar to that before in my life, and you get aware that you’re pretty much alone out there on the ocean. That was just a special thing and that changed me a lot. I got a bit more settled afterwards during the race, and got more confident and got more of a plan of what’s going on in my life. It’s getting better every day.”
Reflecting on those early days of uncertainty, he said, “I was really afraid one night in the Atlantic, when the conditions were quite bad. We had lots of wind, and I had never experienced that kind of weather on the open sea. I didn’t know what’s going to happen, but I heard a small cracking noise, and I was not sure whether I did everything right with the construction of the boat – was the weld of my keel holding, or was it breaking slowly but steady – where could I go, how far was it back to the Canary Islands, how far was it to the Cape Verde Islands, or would it be more reasonable to just try to continue to cross the Atlantic? That was a pretty frightening moment.”
But dawn came, lifting his spirits as it always does, and the boat was still afloat! As the days turned into weeks and months, he slowly began to trust ARGO’s ability to withstand the forces of the sea, and his ability to rise to the challenge.
Then there were the health scares. “When I had the skin infections, I was worried that this would be the end of the MGR already. I was in the hospital in the Galapagos, and also in contact with the MSOS doctors and my doctor in Germany, and the advice they gave me made me wonder if I should stop.
“Then, when I got the scans of my shoulder in Tahiti, they said I needed an operation as fast as possible. I called my doctor, and also sought a second opinion online. They said, ‘If you can handle the pain, which was constantly growing since January, so since the Atlantic, then you can go on, there’s no need to do the operation right now.
“So, I took the decision to continue, as it was the only chance to be in the first MGR. My right shoulder is now worse than the left one, but I was too stubborn to stop. This leg, with the wild movement of the boat, is really testing me, but the people that know me from before, they know that if I start something, and I’m really into it, I tend to finish what I’ve started.”
At 2157 UTC on 09 March, just before sunset in Antigua, ARGO came barrelling in from seaward to secure 7th place for this leg. Christian had taken the time to dress ship with both the MGR flags and the international signal code flags, plus have a wash and shampoo his hair. After, all, he had a reputation to maintain as the sexiest guy in the MGR! He topped off the spectacle by lighting a flare during his lap of honour around the harbour. As Don McIntyre observed, Christian always does things in style.
Ertan had once again suffered mainsail damage aboard TREKKA, but the fresh breezes kept him moving along and holding onto 8th place. He was hoping the breeze would hold until he made landfall, which it looked likely to do. He crossed the finish line in the early hours of 10 March.
In a phone call at dawn, Caribbean time, on 09 March, he said, “I just woke up suddenly as the sails were going mad. I had three reefs in the main plus the jib, but I took the main down. There’s a little squall.
“Just over a week ago, I had a very gusty night. These holes suddenly started appearing in the mainsail so I had to bring the whole sail down. I managed to stick the top of the sail back together, from the third reef position up, but the other holes are so wide that whatever I stick on it, it just opens up again. It’s been very fortunate that I have had a lot of wind. I seem to be keeping 80% of the speed most of the time, with just the triple-reefed mainsail and jib.
“I’ve got about 50 miles to go before the turn around Guadeloupe Island, about 110 miles altogether to the finish.”
He said the passage had been excellent so far. “The only thing that’s been bad news is the weed. I talked to Jasmine and she’s suffering with the same thing. Every half an hour, or 40 minutes, I have to go out and clear the rudder and Hydrovane. Quite a few times, I had to stop the boat, and it takes about half an hour to get going again. It’s been endless for the last week. No complaints, it’s just part of the fun, although it interrupts whatever I’m watching on TV.” His partner, Arzu, is flying in to Antigua as well, to add to his anticipation.
Even under the jib alone, TREKKA was still sailing at 4 knots, with the wind just forward of the beam. When the gusts came in, the boat rounded up a little, bringing the wind further forward. “When the wind goes down, I’ll put the reefed main up again. If I can keep a 5-knot average, that’ll be great. Obviously, if my mainsail wasn’t damaged, I could have kept a much better wind angle for the past 10 days.”
As usual, he is sleeping well at night. He says he is now eating all TREKKA’s old provisions, the rubbish food he calls it, and is looking forward to a decent meal when he gets ashore (and a comfortable hotel bed). “I’ve still got two eggs left, but all the fresh food is long gone. I think breakfast will be some muesli. I’ve still got 50L of water outside and 20 inside – I always take loads.”
His electrical system remains fully-powered up. “Over the period going around the world, I learned that in order to talk on the phone, or have to Starlink on all the time, (he does!) you need electricity. I’ve got my AIS on all the time, and usually the ECHOMAX as well. Though when you have the Starlink on, you can’t have the Echomax as well, because it interferes with it. You have to turn your Echomax off or it goes mad.”
He has not seen much in the way of shipping. “Off Barbados, I had seven ships pass – I think pretty much all of them were cruise ships. I spoke to one, BRITANNIA, because it was coming straight at me. I had everything on (AIS etc) and I asked the captain if they knew that I was in their path – I was five miles from them at the time – and he said he was aware of my position. He turned when he was about a mile off. I knew I was visible because I check regularly with ships. They could all see me on radar as well as the AIS.”
He has experienced a lot of squalls. “Yesterday I took the sails down three times because there were black clouds coming. Each time brought rain, and some brought strong winds. As soon as I see one, I take the sails down, wait for it to pass. I’m afraid I might get more rips on the mainsail. There are still 110 miles to go. I don’t ever joke about these things because we have to be careful right to the finish.”
Once he cleared La Desirade Island, off the east coast of Guadeloupe Island, TREKKA could bear off and ease sheets for Antigua. “And then I can start having a shower and getting ready for the arrival.
“If there is anything I would like to say is that I am grateful to Don and Jane for their very important financial and personal sacrifice to create this race. We were able to do this because of them.
“And what people must understand is that the anticipation of bad weather, etc, has always been scarier than the event itself. These little boats have been amazing for all of us. Anybody who’s thinking about this should start it, because the end will come, you know? This is an incredible boat. Whether it is a Transat or the MGR, it is easily achievable in these little boats.
15 people started this race, aged from 26 to 72 years old – people with all walks of life, all levels of experience. All 15 of us would have finished, apart from the fact that the four skippers who did stop had more important personal matters, but it was never about the sea, it was never about the boat. These are very important facts about MGR.”
It is worth noting here that all four skippers who retired, Dan Turk on LITTLE BEA, Mike Blenkinsop on DELJA 99, John Blenkinsop on DELJA 100, and Gary Swindail on QUESTION II, all completed significant voyages aboard their 580s. Dan made two crossings of the Atlantic Ocean, one in the high latitudes, plus crossed the Pacific to Fiji. Mike and John crossed the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans on the trade wind routes, and Gary crossed the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean from Panama to Darwin.
By late Monday, 09 March, SKOOKUM had advanced from 11th to 9th place, having finally found a favourable ocean current as Josh sailed up past the Caribbean islands. He said, “This has been a challenging passage. It’s had a little bit of everything. I chose the western route, following the coastline to try to get into the equatorial current. It was really hard to get far enough west to find the current. I seem to have been against the current at times. We had to point a lot higher because we were getting pushed sideways, and it was slow going. We were only making 90 miles a day for a long while.
“Combine that with how much Sargasso weed there was. You try to keep the rudder and the keel clear but it’s pretty much a losing battle. No sooner have you cleared some off than you sail straight into another batch. The weather has been quite variable – this is definitely one of the most challenging passages we’ve had.
“I don’t mind going upwind. The boat heels over, so you gotta get used to living at an angle, but at least it’s consistent. The boat’s always kind of doing the same thing, whereas when you’re downwind, it’s like rocking back and forth, it’s one side and then the other, whereas when you’re upwind, you’re sleeping on the high side, and the boat pretty much just has the same motion.
“I’ve been able to crack off a few degrees, so that SKOOKUM is not slamming straight into the waves. There’s only been maybe three or four days where I had to drive into them. For the most part, we kind of just keep the seas on the beam or just forward to the beam. We’re going well now. We’re right on the rhumbline. We’ve got about 30 hours to go or something, I’m guessing. Probably Tuesday morning.”
Asked how he felt about finishing, he said, “It’s pretty wild. It hasn’t quite hit home. Today, I was just like, holy cow, I’m 200 miles from having sailed around the world, you know? But I’m just treating (arriving in Antigua) like any other port stop that we’ve made. I’m just kind of focused on getting there, without having too much time to think about the fact that it’s the last one.”
Asked how SKOOKUM was doing, he said, “It’s doing great. It’s dirty. The waves have been crashing over the boat, they have been really big – like Indian Ocean big. Bigger than I expected them to be. I have to keep the hatch closed all the time, or else the waves just come right in. It’s been really hot and muggy, and all my t-shirts are wet, because as soon as I go outside, I just get soaked.
“It’s been a bit miserable during the day, because you can’t have the hatch open. You are just kind of sweating inside. It’s been even more miserable to be outside than inside. But the nights are nice. Right now (0230 UTC), it’s fine, so I’m actually able to have my head out of the hatch, and I haven’t gotten doused yet.” (Famous last words!)
Asked about what comes next, he said, “I got a couple of potential buyers interested in the boat, so the goal is to sail it back to Oriental, North Carolina. I really want to close the loop there. Oriental has a big sailing community, and they really came out for me, and were really interested in everything before I left. After the prize giving, I’ll hang around for a couple days and wait for decent weather, and then sail back. It’s only 1,300 miles, and it’s all pretty much downwind, so it should be a pretty pleasant passage. And, with no pressure of racing, I can just kind of relax and take it easy, which is pretty much what I’ve done anyway. But, you know, no pressure.”
Speaking of his approach to the MGR, he said, “I just took care of the boat and sailed for comfort. It was more of a completion thing for me than anything. It takes 100% more effort to get, you know, 30 more miles a day, so I mean, good for them (Renaud, et al), but that wasn’t what I wanted to do.”
Not that SKOOKUM has been slow – only by comparison to the leaders! “Yeah, yeah, they’re fast boats for sure. Right now, we’re doing seven knots, seven and a half knots, something like that, with the current helping. So they do go when they’ve got the right conditions.”
Asked what he’d learned learned the most about SKOOKUM during the trip, he replied, “Just how much it can take. Leaving North Carolina, I was apprehensive. We were going upwind, the rig was shuddering and the rudder was clunking back and forth, plus I wasn’t comfortable with the windvane. But I stuck it out and learned how tough they are. The 580 is basically like a lifeboat with a mast!
“Plus, I now know what works in different conditions. This passage has been pretty much all about two reefs in the main and the jib. Right now, I’ve only got one reef in the main, because I’m enjoying going a little faster, but I don’t think it’s very efficient as it has poor shape now. Another reef in it would probably be a little bit better.”
Then he gave a shriek, followed by a chuckle. “I just got a big wave over my head.”
Josh has an unusual, or interesting, background as a serious expeditioner, climbing mountains, etc. Asked what he’d learned about himself on this passage, any new insights into his personality and abilities, he said, “I’ve learned what’s important, or what’s not important, what to worry about or what not to worry about. I’ve learned how to let go of everything and kind of focus on what matters. It’s hard to put into words, but I have just a deeper understanding of what’s important to me. I’ve grown spiritually. I have a lot more patience, more tolerance for things. The sort of things that used to bother me just won’t bother me anymore.”
Asked what advice he might offer anyone competing in the 2029 MGR, he had an interesting perspective. “For me, the 2025 MGR has been an issue of man versus machine. Me versus tiller pilots, Starlink, and Hydrovanes. If you have some combination of those three, then you’ve got a serious advantage. Some people have used as many as 10 tiller pilots. They just burn them up and get two new ones at every port stop. And Starlink gives you an advantage for up-to-the-minute current and weather information, and you can check the tracker every four hours and see where people are and what they’re doing. Without those advantages, you just can’t hope to compete.”
There’s going to be an interesting rule change for the 2029 MGR. Entrants will only be allowed to carry two tiller pilots for the entire race, with penalties applying if more are taken aboard, similar to the current ruling about sails. This will be more in keeping with the overall ethos of keeping the event relatively affordable, compared to other big-budget events like the Mini-Transat and Vendee Globe races.
Josh never takes himself too seriously, however, as his recent post on the MGR Entrants WhatsApp Report shows. It is also a succinct summary of the final passage of the MGR, which proved a lot tougher than anyone was expecting.
This week only at the North Atlantic Café:
Grilled Counter Currents – Market Price $$$.
Pan-Fried Squalls – Buy One Get One Free.
Steamed Sargasso – Served on a Bed of Large Waves -All You Can Eat! $SQ.
Marinated T-Shirts – Three for $5.
Sore Body Burger – Topped with Sautéed Sleep Deprivation – Free to the first 11 Customers!
Eric, in 10th place at 0600 UTC on 10 March, with 75 miles to go, was plodding along, stoic as usual. On 06 March, he posted, “SUNBEAR update. Slow going overnight, out of the current. Sea-state is poor with 20-30 knots of wind at times. Not far to go now.”
He was keeping himself amused by composing ballads and recording himself singing them. It is a great Australian bush tradition. He has a great voice, in my opinion, if not that of his wife, Brenda, who has teased him a little (maybe she’s heard him singing in the shower once too often). If he is not careful, he might find himself booked to provide entertainment for the MGR award ceremony!
At 0700 UTC on 10 March, he was approaching the eastern side of Guadeloupe Island, sailing at 5.4 knots, with just under 70 nm to the finish. With a bit of luck, he will be in before sunset local time.
On 04 March, Susan Harrison posted, “Yesterday, the Kraken finally released its hold on NUMBATOU, and suddenly Jasmine was flying, averaging 6.4kn for a while, without a change in the weather, sea-state or the sail configuration. She thinks that the Kraken must have been hanging onto the keel for quite some time.”
Jasmine noted, “Happy with my decision on the route (to stay closer to the rhumb line). I am going to run out of current any moment but the seas are big and foaming, and my muscles are sore from trying to hold on at the high side. Direction is hard to hold with the big swell and strong gusts, but I am glad it is not easy, as it makes the finish feel even more deserved.” She videoed herself sitting in the cockpit as the powerful trade winds seas surged past, looking content with life, saying, “Only four more days to go!”
She did not make her scheduled call this week (she was probably exhausted from clearing Sargasso weed from NUMBATOU’s appendages), so I have been dependant on her mother, Susan’s reports. “The countdown is on, and Jasmine should be arriving into Falmouth Harbour on Wednesday morning local time. The pesky sargassum seaweed has been slowing her down as she has to keep clearing it from the keel and rudder, at times every few minutes. Sleep is snatched in half-hour bursts, often to wake up to find NUMBATOU heading North because of the weed.”
At 0700 UTC she was north of Dominica and closing in on Guadeloupe, the last waypoint on the long road from Antigua to Antigua via every parallel of longitude on the planet.
And so, one by one, the MGR fleet returns to the place they left just over 12 months ago, with 24,000 nm and countless memories in the wake. More than one of them remarked, as they moored alongside the pontoons at the National Sailing Academy in Falmouth Harbour, that it all looked so familiar, and yet somehow different. To quote T.S. Eliot in ‘Little Gidding’,
“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
