Skellig is more than a boat. She’s a dream, a home, and the start of a new chapter. After an exhausting ordeal in the Bristol Channel, she’s safe but stranded eight hours from me — and from the tools, rigging, and parts I’ve already have to rebuild her. I don’t need help with repairs. What I need is help getting her moved home.

I guess I figured writing this all down was one way of dealing with the ordeal — turning it into a story rather than just a mess of fatigue, torn sails, and bad luck. Someone suggested I start a GoFundMe, so here I am.

It reminds me a little of Broadcast for Reps from my EVE Online days — that idea that sometimes you don’t ask because you want to, you ask because you need to. You put your hand up, you admit you can’t do it alone, and you trust the community to have your back. This feels the same.

I poured weeks of work into getting Skellig ready: repairing, checking, and double-checking passage plans. The idea was simple enough — sail her up the harsh Bristol channel and out into the Irish Sea. Open seas I can bare but the Bristol Channel had other plans.

A Long Day in the Channel

I’d already sailed Skellig from Portishead, stopping at harbours along the way — taking it step by step, making sure both she and I were ready. This last stretch was meant to take me out of the Channel and beyond Milford Haven. From there, the Irish Sea would have been the home run. A sea passage is straightforward compared to the monstrous Bristol channel — but the Bristol Channel is notorious far more than I expected under calm conditions. Strong tides, shifting winds, and no mercy if things go wrong, no real safe havens, every marina is tidal locked, once you are out there you on your own.

I left at 7 a.m., full of optimism. Fourteen hours later, I was already six hours behind schedule — but at least by then, I was finally moving along again.

By 12 noon, I spotted some other boats hugging the coast near Lynmouth while I sat further out in the channel with almost no wind. I jibed back toward them, hoping to follow their track — maybe they knew something I didn’t. Big mistake. They were all motoring. First mistake of the day: second-guessing my passage plan.

By 3 p.m., I was feeling a bit tired but still determined. Off Lynmouth lighthouse, my tacks grew sloppy. The races — which I could just make out in the distance — began to make themselves felt. I made the call to slow things down and work my way back into the Channel steadily.

By 9 p.m., things improved. I was making good headway, sailing in a clean curve westward along the middle of the Channel. For a while, it felt like I’d found the groove again. But now it was dark, orientation blurred, and I started second-guessing myself. My track data shows I was fine, but out there I felt constantly uncertain about heading and position (next mistake, no comms or internet in the middle of the channel). This was where I really wished the Raymarine autopilot hadn’t failed — apparently they’re known for it, happened at the worst time possible. This meant I had no safe way of adjusting my mails luckily I had second reefed from the start as I had learn that the winds in this channel have a mind of their own, no forecast would help. WCX, PredictWind, UKMO and Navionics constantly show mixed data here.

From the start, I had the main reefed to depower the boat a little. Maybe I should have waited and done this later, but I didn’t feel comfortable reefing in the middle of the Channel. She isn’t rigged for single handed at the moment.

By 4 a.m., exhaustion caught me again. I hove-to, unable to understand why I suddenly had even less wind angle to work with. I sat in the cockpit, waiting for daylight. According to my track, I was still holding a straight course in the right direction. All I could think was: stay clear of Lundyand the white horses, bear towards it but tack down toward Milford Haven.

At 6 a.m., the reason revealed itself. The jib had torn in several places, even though I had reefed the jib during the night, she was now over powering constantly and blowing me off. Over sized Jib, meant for racing and very tight angles.

I made the decision to aim for Tenby — a “safe anchorage” before Milford Haven. I fought hard to get into Carmarthen Bay, but fatigue and lack of local knowledge made things harder. All I saw on the chart was “live firing” areas.

I called the Coastguard on my handheld VHF to clarify, but using it was a struggle — the main set was below, and if I left the helm the tide and wind would throw me off course again. Another lesson learned: handhelds are nearly useless in these conditions. I’ll be sending mine back and using the money instead for a remote PTT unit for the main radio in the cockpit, so I can stay at the helm and still communicate properly.

between 9 and 10AM, the call was made for a tow. With only a shredded jib and reefed main, there was no way I could reach shelter as now the strong winds which I previously had a 12 hour head start on started rolleding in. Pointing into the wind without a AP in 3 to 4 meter waves is not fun at all. Another plan already drawing up in my head. More pulleys and winches which I have at home and will add to have a custom jig to hoist sail up sail down for my main halyard.

Gratitude

I have nothing but respect for the volunteers and the UK Coastguard. They don’t get the appreciation they deserve. Once I complete my STCW training and get my RYA commercial endorsement, I’ll be putting time in with the RNLI in whatever capacity they need.

Skellig is now in a safe harbour — but it’s far from home, with no hardstanding space to work on her. Marinas are full, it’s been a harsh summer in the channel and coast apparently and many have been caught out.

Why I Need Help

I’m not here asking for money to fix Skellig. I had budgeted repairs, upgrades, have a whole room full of equipment from sails to satnav, AiS, six more winches to retrofit her for single hand sailing and I’m good with my hands — anyone who follows me on TikTok, Instagram, or in real life knows that’s where I thrive.

What I need help with is getting her moved closer to me, by land transport. Normally this costs around £1,000–£1,500. I could have managed that. But every company I’ve spoken to is now quoting nearly three times that price. Maybe they sense my urgency, maybe it’s just the market right now — either way, it’s beyond what I can shoulder alone.

Right now, Skellig is stuck about eight hours away from me, and from the thousands of pounds of tools, fibreglass, rigging gear, and parts I’ve already bought for her. If there were space where she is now, I’d happily pitch a tent under her keel and get to work tomorrow. But that’s not an option.

That’s why I’m here, reluctantly, asking for help. Not for repairs, not for labour — I’ll handle all of that myself. What I can’t do without the community is get Skellig moved to where I can finally finish what I started.

Why It Matters

This year marks a major birthday for me. I wanted it to be more than just another candle on the cake — I wanted it to be the start of a new chapter: leaving behind IT and the desk life that had worn me down, and committing fully to the sea.

I’ve worked hard to make that real. I’ve completed a number of practical and theoretical sailing courses with the RYA. I’ve crewed on other boats to learn the ropes before ever taking Skellig out. I’ve begun doing yacht deliveries. And I’ve started advertising my electrical and electronics services for boats in marinas and boatyards across the region.

To fund this shift, I used my saving from previous contract working days, I even sold off my all IT gadgets — including a brand-new PC — so I could buy the gear, parts, and materials Skellig needs.

Everyone who’s been following along on TikTok and Instagram has seen the graft, the breakdowns, and the victories. Skellig isn’t just my boat — she’s the heart of this new life. A life that’s hands-on, a little mad, and finally free.

Supporting this fundraiser means covering the transport to bring Skellig safely to me, where I can take over the work myself. Once she’s here, I’ll do the fixing, the wiring, the sails, the sweat. What I can’t do without you is get her moved.

With Gratitude

The channel humbled me. Will I never attempt Bristol channel again, most likely not in this lifetime for sure. But I’m not ready to give up on Skellig. With your help, she’ll be hauled to safety, and every mile she sails after that will carry the spirit of everyone who believed in her, and in the idea that it’s never too late to change your life. Madness is Freedom.

Thank you for reading, for caring, and for helping keep a little madness alive.

Any questions? Reach out on discord - https://discord.gg/MRFRtmERPA

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