A Vertue - Round Britain performance

Mamma Mea!

In our June issue Matteo Richiardi talked us through preparations for the Round Britain and Ireland race, organised by the Royal Western Yacht Club, in a Vertue 25. He survived to recount his adventures to us…

At the start of the Sevenstar Round Britain and Ireland race in Plymouth, on 29 May, few people would have bet that the little wooden boat Mea, a 1959

Vertue 25 designed by Jack Laurent

Giles, would manage to complete the 1,900 miles of the race course. After all, Mea was the smallest and oldest boat ever to enter the race, having obtained a wild card from the race organisers as she was below the minimum length requirement. And her skipper Matteo Richiardi had no previous experience of ocean racing.

Indeed, plagued by calms, adverse headwinds, and electrical failures, it seemed that Mea was bound to join the many other boats that had to retire from the race. Yet, on 5 July, 37 days after that late May Sunday morning, she crossed the finish line, last but certainly not least, having gained victory on corrected time.

We caught up with Matteo post race. ‘built as a church; comfortable as an old boot’. I wanted to connect somehow to David Lewis’ participation to the first Ostar in 1960 (‘The ship would not travel due west’), the Atlantic crossings of Humphrey Barton (‘Vertue XXXV’) and Peter Woolass (‘George, Stelda and I’), the circumnavigation of Peter and Jill Hamilton (‘The restless wind’), the Cape Horn rounding by father and son David and Daniel Hays (‘My Old Man and the Sea’), not to speak about the many passages and voyages that have remained undocumented, including the maiden voyage of my own boat, Mea, from Hong Kong to the UK, in 1959-1962. The last time Mea saw the Ocean was in 1987-1988, with an Atlantic tour under her fourth owner, the Suede Anders Lindgren. I wanted to bring her out of the semiretirement that is the destiny of many classic boats, and I wanted her to bring me to the Ocean."

ABOVE

Mea all set to for the start in Plymouth

RIGHT

Mea's route map around Britain and Ireland (noon positions)

Matteo, what were you looking from this race?

“Above all, I wanted to test myself and my boat, and bring forward that Vertue culture that has lived and grown over so many years, with so many epic voyages. “The Vertues are little boats with a big heart, the Jeep of the seas,

And how did it go?

“Very well: a beautiful race, I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, even when we were becalmed for days in the Celtic Sea and on the east coast of England, had to fight against headwinds and spring tides in the Channel and had to shelter from two gales off the west coast of Ireland. Indeed, the last experience is among the best memories, as it allowed me to better appreciate the wild scenery of the Irish coastline. I divide the race in two parts. The first two legs, from Plymouth to Lerwick, were wild and exciting. Ocean sailing at last. Extended calms with nothing in sight, then a couple of Force 7 and Force 8 storms that hit us on the west coast of Ireland. Big waves, 5-6m high, although with a long period. At times, the landscape looked almost alpine, with mountains and valleys and snow on top. I recognised the Matterhorn a couple of times, while waves of the majestic but less vicious Mont Blanc type were ubiquitous. And then the wildlife. We were never alone. Hundreds of dolphins, basking sharks, moon fishes, gannets, puffins and many other species of seabirds (not to say the longest jelly fish I have ever seen, about 1.5m long). Mea has a very low freeboard, and when you are sitting downwind in the cockpit, on a beat, you are a palm away from the water. And there were the dolphins accompanying us for days and days at times. One night we were joined by a single dolphin. We could hear it squealing through the hull while we were resting in our berths: I am not sure whether it was calling us, talking to the boat, calling for more friends to join, or just singing for fun! “The second half of the race, from Lerwick to Plymouth, was more of an ultra-marathon, where we had to inch our way forward through calms and headwinds. Classic designs like Mea are not really fit to beat against the wind and the tide, so it was a game of stop-and-go, with flat tacks for six hours, followed by decent advances when the tide was with us. I had two spinnakers and two spinnaker poles with me. But I was able to hoist them for a total of only 12 hours in the whole race, a couple of hours sailing towards Lizard Point on day one, and a few hours on our approach to the Shetlands. “While the first half of the race was more of a test for the boat, the second half was a test for our resolve. Consider that I also had to go to Plymouth from Mea’s home port on the River Orwell, in Suffolk, and then sail back, adding another 700 miles to the overall journey. “When I passed in front of Harwich, at the mouth of the Orwell, I heard many voices in my head saying ‘Stop! You've completed your circumnavigation!’ But I never thought I wouldn't make it to the finish the race, and seal our story.”

ABOVE LEFT

Mea crosses the start line in Plymouth

ABOVE RIGHT

An interesting take on self-steering

BELOW LEFT

Celebrating at the end of leg one

BELOW RIGHT

Mea's wellappointed cabin

What about the crew?

“I was incredibly fortunate to have two fantastic mates for this race, with a changeover in Lerwick: Mahoney –a Polish grower from the Canary islands – and Paolo – an Italian Professor. I did not know them before the race – Paolo is a friend of a friend and Mahoney responded to an online ad that I put up when I was desperate for a crew, a few weeks before the start. We sailed together for two qualifying cruises – 300 miles and four days each – and everything went well. However, Mea’s cabin is four metres by two, and I did not know what would happen when sharing such a restricted space for weeks after weeks. Incredibly, life aboard remained always enjoyable, and this tells it all, I guess. We had an exceptionally good time, lots of laughs, ate better than I ever expected given the conditions and the two little alcohol burners of Mea’s stove. We also also sailed decently well, I suppose… I would have no hesitation in setting sail for another adventure with Paolo and Mahoney immediately.”

Did you encounter any problems?

“This race taught me that to stormproof a boat, you need to sail through storms, something I was too happy to overlook in my preparation. Mea behaved splendidly, but we were plagued by water infiltrations during the worst weather, which made life aboard wet and damp at times. We had to put everything – from pillows to sleeping bags – in plastic bags, wrapping ourselves in tarpaulin sheets while lying in our bunks. We somehow managed to fix the worst leaks by sheathing the corners of the deck house with a strong duck tape, and make a strategic use of cloths around the cabin. However, a lot of water was finding its way underneath the cockpit floor, dripping directly on the engine. This ultimately caused a complete electrical failure when we were off St Kilda: no engine, no other ways of recharging the batteries. I had to bridge each and every one of the 12 wires that connect the engine controls with the engine itself, then try to protect everything from water as well as I could, but it worked. We also lost the autopilot while entering the Channel, which gave us ample opportunities to practice sheet-to-tiller.”

What was the most emotional moment in the race?

“The most beautiful and touching experience of all was being able to connect with like-minded people: a true kinship of the sea, perhaps. Like Alasdair Flint, who sent us his spare mainsail as our backup one parted two days before the start (Alasdair was preparing to sail his Vertue Sumara of Weymouth to Greenland). Roger Robinson, the editor of the website vertueyachts.com, who came to Plymouth to meet us before the start carrying two spare tillers just in case, and then came back to welcome us after we finished the race. John Milligan in Galway, who gave us his pilot books of the Irish coast in case we had to seek shelter from the weather (we did). Keith Baker, whom we met in Lerwick as he was leisurely sailing solo on a small boat around the UK, the other way round. Jon Dunsdon on Vertue Hippo V213, who waved us goodbye by sailing alongside Mea for the first miles of the race, off Plymouth. The former owners of Vertues Gay Caroline and Maiden of Tesla, who came to meet us in Blyth to share memories of their own boats. All the followers of our blog site, measailing. wordpress.com, those who posted comments and those who didn’t, who perhaps found inspiration by our tale of passion and perseverance. And the lady who recovered, on a beach in the Isles of Scilly, the message in the bottle we dropped off the coast of Ireland, and contacted my family back home, sending pictures of her beautiful watercolour carnet de voyage adorned with a piece of my own writing.

“And last but not least, the emotion of waving goodbye to my wife and my two daughters on the spectators’ boat, at the start of the race, and seeing them on the pontoon ready to take my lines, in Suffolk, six weeks later. This adventure would not have been possible without their support.”

ABOVE

The three musketeers; Paolo, Mahoney and Matteo

ABOVE RIGHT

Killing time during a calm with some fine dining

BELOW

Arrival back in Plymouth

And what are your future plans?

“I haven’t made any concrete plan yet, but I really hope my sailing adventures on Mea have just began. What I know is that I need at least a couple of years to finish preparing Mea, given that my budget is tight and I have to carefully plan each round of work on the boat and each new piece of equipment. In the meantime, I hope to do more racing but that is likely to be with broadly similar boats: there is no point in competing – even on corrected time – with boats that are twice or three times faster. The Brest festival in 2024 is on my horizon, as well as the Classic Channel Regatta, for instance. “In addition to that, in future I want to be able to explore the places where I sail to. I could consider a transatlantic race, but only as an incentive to get to the other side.”