Though I am a firm believer in the old Sailor's adage that, "What goes to sea, stays at sea", I can give you a glimpse of what happened that fateful day when the yacht Compromise and her crew called out for help. There had been late night calls for a ship's meeting, a desperate attempt to hand over my command in the morning, but in the end I went Captain Bligh and bellowed out that I wanted a traditional navel rotation with a port and a starboard watch. I was about to start arguing with everyone. In other words, I had tipped over into manic aggressive. The message in my notebook to my girlfriend that I was going to jump ship with the EPIRB was yanked from it's spine and filled in the Dr's medical case book. I had lost command of my faculties. I was arguing with Sophie and threatening Finbarr that I was going to junp overboard. Not a swift move as by that time he wanted to help.
It was much more f&*^%d up than that. I remember Sophie and Finbarr presenting the EPIRB to me, which they had hidden in a cockpit locker – on, blinking away. "Look what you have done" they said. I remember passing out on the foredeck and falling through the hatch, I remember Sophie crying out "Oh my god your boat" and me screaming back "You've done the right thing, You've done the right thing". I remember packing bags and collecting books, cloths and Sophie helping. I remember telling Finbarr he could not sail back to the Cape Verdes alone. There are also the parts I don't remember.