From Vigo to the Solent: An Unexpected Sailing Odyssey

88-year-old sailor Patrick O’Connor shares his extraordinary journey to join LSS on a passage to the Mediterranean, and what happened after unexpected weather turned plans upside down.

 A Note from London School of Sailing

We recently had the pleasure of welcoming an exceptional sailor aboard Cougar, our Reflex 38 racing yacht. At 88 years old, his passion, grit, and humour were an inspiration to everyone on board. He joined our passage from France back to the UK, but the route he took to get there was anything but straightforward. What follows is his own account; a story of detours, serendipity, and the simple joy of being back under sail.

The Voyage That Wasn’t

I’d originally booked a crew spot for a voyage from Vigo, Spain, to Malta, via Gibraltar and Marseille. Bags packed, flight booked, Airbnb arranged, I was ready to join Cougar on 11 September. My hostess in Vigo, Angela, even promised a welcoming hug.

But as I walked toward my Ryanair flight at Stansted, the phone rang. Bad news: strong winds in the Bay of Biscay meant the yacht couldn’t make it to Vigo. She was stuck in Camaret, France.

Still, Angela was expecting me, so I boarded the flight anyway.

Arrival in Vigo and an Arm Wrestling Match

Rain greeted me in Vigo. Angela met me at the station platform, arms open wide. We headed uphill to her flat, stopping first for beers in a Route 66-themed bar where we were served by the lovely Victoria. Somewhere in the evening, Angela and I began arm wrestling, possibly to impress Victoria. Angela won (by using both arms).

Unfortunately, my elbow (recently stitched) started bleeding on the bar. Angela and Victoria patched me up, and we continued home.

Plans Change, a New Journey Begins

The Malta voyage was cancelled. But the yacht still needed crew for its new course: back to England. With most of the original crew gone and one nursing a broken ankle, I was needed.

Angela and I plotted a route. I would travel to Madrid, then north through Bilbao and into France, heading toward Camaret on the far west coast.

Through Spain to France by Train, Bus, and Luck

Madrid was vibrant, dinner delicious, prawns, Rioja, and cheesecake under the stars. The train to Bilbao offered stunning views, then another took me to Hendaye on the French border.

I waited hours for an overnight coach to Rennes that never came. I’d gone to the wrong station. A kind minibus driver rescued me, taking me to a nearby hotel.

I needed to get to Paris quickly. With no train ticket and my phone refusing SNCF’s payment system, I took a chance and showed up at the station at 5:00 a.m.

Another Stranger's Kindness

On a quiet platform sat Jamina. I told her my situation. “Come with me,” she said.

She brought me aboard and explained my plight to the conductor, who let me pay him directly. We chatted all the way to Paris. She runs a hotel in Hendaye and asked me to keep in touch.

From Paris, I took a first-class train to Brest, then a bus to Camaret, finally meeting Cougar’s skipper Jenn and the two-remaining crew, Marion and Lisa with the broken foot.

A Racing Yacht and a Waiting Storm

Cougar is a sleek Reflex 38. She is fast, functional, although lacking the plush comforts of cruising yachts. A big storm was on the way, so we relocated to a more sheltered marina in Brest. Our sail across the estuary was blustery and wet, but I was thrilled to be back on the water.

That night brought gourmet food, margaritas, and tipsy walks back along the pontoon.

Lessons and New Crew

The following day, Brest’s naval history kept us entertained, it’s massive WWII German submarine pens still loom by the harbour. Jenn’s brother Andrew flew in to bring our crew back to strength.

We sailed early the next morning to Aber Wrac’h, bouncing through leftover swell. Jenn set us into watch rotations. I was paired with Andrew, a former evolutionary biologist now in banking software. Jenn herself had traded in office life to become a full-time sailor, a Yachtmaster instructor and skipper. Yachties, it turns out, are made of interesting stuff.

Onward to Guernsey

We had hoped for a stop in Guernsey, where I have friends, but we needed to push through. So we sailed on. Long hours, steady winds, watch after watch, into the dark. We arrived at St. Peter’s Port around 10 p.m.

The Home Stretch

By 4:20 a.m. the next morning, we were off again. We sailed past the Channel Islands and into the English Channel. Quiet watches, grey skies, and sea stretching to the horizon. Late in the day, we spotted the Isle of Wight. As we rounded The Needles into the Solent, the sky cleared and the water shimmered under the setting sun.

Jenn navigated flawlessly through the crowded lights of Southampton Water. By 9:30 p.m., we were tied up in Hamble Marina.

Homeward Bound

With the yacht safely berthed, I packed up and made for the train station.

All told, I travelled over 1,950 miles by air and land to sail 265 miles. Not the voyage I expected, but one filled with adventure, new friends, and the quiet satisfaction of seeing it through.

Feeling inspired?

At London School of Sailing, we believe adventure has no age limit. If you'd like to create your own story at sea, get in touch. We’d love to welcome you aboard