Old gaffer to Ushant

Max Liberson suffers concussion, ghostly apparitions and crew desertion on a tiring voyage to France

- Max Liberson

When a client asked me to help finish his boat in Portugal, I agreed, but on one condition I wanted to bring my own boat, Wendy May. My 84-year-old gaff cutter was in need of a refit, and this way I could work on her on my days off. So instead of flying out to the Algarve, I decided to sail there instead. I had just two weeks to prepare.

Finally, the departure day arrived. On 19 September I drove down from Wolverhampton to Newport, Wales, where I kept Wendy May. I left at 4am with a long list of jobs to do, having not set foot on the boat for nearly a month. When I arrived Wendy May was just starting to float on the flood tide. I began loading my gear and noticed I’d left my camera bag at home, with my passport and boat papers in.

Nevertheless, I did all I could – filling the water tank, checking the boat was shipshape; I also met Tony, a prospective crewmember, about the same age as me, who’d been in the yacht club a while. He had his own fiberglass sailing boat but had never sailed a gaff-rigger. It was in the middle of lockdown, and I explained he’d have to isolate for two weeks when we came back. He seemed happy with the boat and said he would meet me the next morning. I then climbed back into my van and drove the 100 miles back home to pick up my camera bag. At least I could say goodbye properly to my wife, Eva, my mother-in-law and our dog Luna, as they were all awake this time.

On returning to the boat, I did a shop at the supermarket and had dinner with my brother – the commodore of Newport and Uskmouth Sailing Club – and his wife. By the time I left, the tide was up again, so I stowed the food aboard and got into my comfortable portside bunk, up forward.