While Good Friday was a day stolen from the Angels, Easter Saturday and Sunday belonged to Lucifer. Friday saw the yachting community at Neyland Marina enjoying the bright warm sunny…

North or South, that is the question: whether ’tis nobler in the yachtsman to seek the sleet and icebergs of outrageous Northlands? Or to bare arms upon a sea of…

Tom Cunliffe

This was my log entry for 25 March 1977: ‘1400 – Horrified to witness the formation of a waterspout about a mile to leeward. Started like a cloud on the…

I write this blog while bobbing at anchor in Loch Scresort, the best anchorage on the Inner Hebridean island of Rum. Kinloch Castle, a spectacular example of Victorian excess, is…

I have been brooding about harbours, what we cruising yachtsmen want and what we ought to tell the industry, our local authorities and tourist authorities abroad. Yachts and ‘leisure boating’…

Tom Cunliffe

Easter is upon us again, reminding me of the first time I crossed the Channel as skipper of my own boat. My wife and I set out for Cherbourg from…

Dick Durham

From my bedroom window I can see a small stone memorial in the corner of an ancient churchyard overlooking the Thames Estuary; on it are the names of four fisherman…

I apologise for the deliberately misleading title. Rather than a whimsy about the renowned junk rig, I was inspired to ponder about the quantity of junk a yacht can accumulate…

Jeremy knocked on the side of Aurial, giving me a welcome respite from changing the engine anode. After kindly passing me a magic diesel sealing pencil, I admired the black…