I can now look back on one of the biggest tests in my sailing career and my third transatlantic race in almost as many years, the Transat AG2R.  Following the success of my two previous solo transatlantic campaigns, the Mini Transat and Route du Rhum, I was offered the chance to do a race double-handed across the Atlantic with a sailing friend from Czech, David Krizek. A double-handed crossing is something I've always wanted to do.  Spending over three weeks cooped up on a small boat with the same person would be a test in itself, but having someone alongside to share the experience would also be a way to keep you positive when the going got tough, and then there was the promise of more sleep whilst keeping the boat sailing at maximum speed on the ragged edge - always a bonus!

The race in question was the 9th edition of the Figaro Transat AG2R, a biennial double-handed race from Concarneau to St Barts, raced in 33ft one-designs, within the famous French Figaro class.  This is the most competitive offshore class currently in existence, and following just two months of preparation, which included everything from finding a boat to testing new sails, in what seemed like no time at all start day was upon us.  As usual there was a mad panic to get everything prepared and on the boat in time, and just 10 minutes before the start all the electronics on the boat went haywire, a problem that was to plague as for the next three and a half weeks. David and I had no idea where we stood in this class and how competitive we'd be in our first ever Figaro race. With less experience than any other team, we were underdogs with nothing to lose and all to play for.
 
The first couple of days were windy, wet and cold as we drove south across the Bay of Biscay and around Cap Finisterre towards our first mark on the course, Madeira, which we had to leave to starboard. The wind then dropped completely and we went absolutely nowhere for about 8 hours, whilst others who had stuck close to the Portuguese coast were still moving.  Six days into the race we were lying in 16th place out of 25 boats and over 80 miles from the lead.  Although we were doing respectably for our first event in this class, I was frustrated at being so far from the front and was forever looking for a weather window to gain on the leaders and try and claw some miles back.  To make matters worse I had found that there was about half the amount of food onboard than I would normally take.  David had been left to organise the snacks and food supplements that consisted of a couple of bird nuts every day, and a biscuit that had been cut from a thin sheet of polystyrene.  Although David in comparison to me has the appetite of a sparrow he too was hungry the whole time and seemed to think he had told me to go and do a big shop before the race.  Despite our difference of opinion, David found it quite amusing that I was hungry enough to eat raw squid that jumped on to the deck in the night.  A word of warning: when eating raw squid, take the bone out first. It’s a lot less crunchy that way.
 
Just before be got to Madeira at last we were at last given the break we deserved after sticking to our guns in the west and were resulted with more wind and more speed.  We realised this was our only opportunity to stay in the race and pushed the boat really hard all night. By the morning we were smiling when the positions came in:  12th place and the fastest 24hr run in the race so far.  This was the turning point for us.  We had seen our efforts really pay off for the first time and suddenly knew were capable of great things. The race was only just getting started.

After Madeira, we decided to head on a westerly course rather than head southwest to the trade winds, principally because there weren’t any! This took us close to the great circle route, the wind looking stronger and more reliable for the next week than the south, whilst also being the shortest route to the Caribbean.  Although the leaders were also on a similar course we sailed very hard for the next few days, breaking the 24hr mileage record yet again and closing to within just 30 miles of the leader. By Day 12, we had rocketing up to 6th place. The next day we were up to an official 4th place when one of the frontrunners changed coarse to the south, and it was clear that by this stage that this race was going to be won not by boat speed, but by strategy.

Following the rounding of Madeira, a few boats had gambled and taken the considerably longer route to the south in the hope that the northern alternative would run out of wind and they would find the trade winds to blast them west across the Caribbean.  We had watched them drop to almost 600 miles behind the leader in terms of distance to finish, but once they had found the wind, they started to eat huge chunks out of our advantage.  Within a few days, things looked really dismay on our northern route.  We were going to be faced with headwinds for 6 days whilst those to the south were now 100 miles a day faster.  It was too late to sail south to cover them so all we could do was to cross our fingers and hope the weather gods were feeling sympathetic towards us and a door would open to get south. And fast.

When it rains in an ocean race it pours.  Unbelievable nothing came up.  The areas of light winds only grew and started to swallow us up from the north east.  The slower we went the longer it was going to take to get away from the light winds, and the slower we were going to go for the next few days.  We were the furthest to the north so got punished most severely. We were now in a lose-lose situation and felt robbed.  By Day 21 the train to the south had past us and we were back near the end of the fleet.  The only thing to console my frustration and keep me separated from the dive knife was that the next day was my birthday, and David gave me an unopened chocolate bar and caught me a flying fish for breakfast. What awesome presents!

Water had become a problem after I discovered that one of our canisters had been leaking. This meant we each had only 1.5 litres per day until the finish, and even that was being optimistic. In this hot environment things were getting uncomfortable and we were both starting to feel light-headed and lethargic. Our saving grace was a huge rainstorm that passed over us.  By catching the water running off the mainsail we collected two full buckets within just 10 minutes, and immediately the kettle was back on for very overdue cup of tea.

Despite being at the back of the fleet, in the last few days of the race David and I stayed positive, and sailed fast, although there was little opportunity for any position recovery. I ate all my food a day before arrival so the hunger would help drive me through the final night at sea. After 24 days it was a huge relief to step ashore in the Caribbean, and despite it being seven o’clock in the morning, we had a really noisy welcome which hopefully woke all the skippers who had beaten us.  The beer and champagne tasted glorious and my first wash in four weeks with a dunking in the marina.
 
Having had some time to reflect on the race I now realise there is a big difference between a bad decision and the weather making an unforeseen change, and I felt very strongly this was the latter that resulted in our downfall.  It is times like this where can you learn more, overcome bigger hurdles, and build yourself up to be a stronger and more experienced sailor for the future. And experience counts for a lot in this sport.  The winner was 55 years old!  There will always be a huge element of luck in a sport so dominated by weather conditions, but David and I proved ourselves that despite stepping on a Figaro for the first time we were very competitive as a team. We stayed in touch with the some of the favourites who have been racing these boats for years, and received two prizes for the fastest daily runs in race.  I feel a much better sailor following this race, and more than ever before I feel hyped up ready to get back out there and do some more extreme offshore. But one thing is for sure: I’ll do my own food shopping before the next race.

A big thank you to everyone who made this campaign possible, my sponsors Dominion Fiduciary Services Group, generously helping support my official charity, Sail 4 Cancer, and also Harken for their supply of performance fittings.  Thank you also to all the fantastic support recieved from friends and family, I promise I will get back to winning ways hopefully as quickly as possible!