Skellig was lost. The dream survives.

For years, I poured everything I had into a boat called Skellig.

She was never just a boat.

She was my workshop, my adventure, and the foundation of a dream I had spent decades working towards. Every spare pound I could save, every weekend, every evening, and every hard-earned skill went into transforming her into a capable offshore vessel. I taught myself boat repair, marine electrical systems, renewable energy installation, and practical marine engineering. Skellig became the platform where all of those skills came together.

Then, on a dark night approaching the coast of Northern Ireland, she struck rocks.

What followed was every sailor's nightmare. Despite everything I tried, the situation deteriorated beyond recovery. Eventually I made the call no sailor ever wants to make. My next clear memory is waking up safe, thanks to the extraordinary efforts of the rescue services. I owe my life to the crews who came to my aid that night.

Skellig did not make it.

The final blow came afterwards. Like many boat owners, I believed I had taken sensible precautions and secured insurance to protect myself from disaster. Only after the loss did I discover that the cover I thought I had was not the cover I actually had. In a matter of days, years of savings disappeared.

Losing Skellig felt like losing far more than a boat. It felt like losing a future I had spent years building.

But I haven't lost the dream. I've just changed how I'm going to reach it.

At a stage in life when many people are slowing down, I was preparing to finally pursue something I had carried for decades. The tools are still here. The spare parts are still here. The skills, the knowledge, and the determination built through years of work are still here.

What I no longer have is the savings to start over the same way.

Working at minimum wage, rebuilding from zero would take years I simply don't have. So I've made a decision.

Rather than scraping together another project boat and beginning the cycle again, I want to do this properly — and make it count.

I'm raising funds to complete a 17-week Zero to Yachtmaster Ocean & STCW course — a comprehensive professional qualification that covers everything from coastal navigation to offshore passage-making, commercial endorsements, and maritime safety certification. These qualifications would allow me to work on flotilla sailing, yacht deliveries, and professional crew roles — giving me a path to earn on the water while I rebuild everything else.

The courses run between £11,000 and £15,000. At minimum wage and my age, that's several years away without help. With your support, it becomes possible within months.

This fundraiser is not about replacing Skellig.

Nothing can replace the years of work and memories invested in her.

This is about using everything she taught me — every skill, every hard lesson, every costly mistake — to build something more resilient than a single boat could ever be. Professional qualifications don't sink. They don't ground on rocks in the dark. They don't get scrapped.

The lessons from losing Skellig have been hard and expensive, but they have been learned. Better navigation. Better planning. Better preparation. Those lessons are now baked into everything I do.

If you choose to donate, you will be helping someone who refuses to let one terrible night be the end of a lifelong ambition — and who has a concrete, practical plan to turn this loss into a genuine career on the water.

If you cannot donate, sharing this fundraiser costs nothing and means everything.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for every kind word, message, and offer of support during one of the most difficult periods of my life.

Skellig may be gone.

But the dream she carried is still very much alive — and now it has a better chance than ever.