Johnathan Jack James had spent some time in the Merchant Navy and in short time became a Third Mate. His career however, ending abruptly, when a rope parted going through the Panama Canal hitting him across the face. A year, and an eye operation later, he was almost back to normal...
Consequently, the author of this unfortunate tale should have known the dangers of the sea, but armed with a little knowledge and a bit too much faith in his own ability, he decided to jump into a boat and sail away.
This is the very true story (I'm sad to say) of sailing the yacht 'Solo' alone. Never having owned a boat before and after only a few weeks trying to learn the intricacies of sailing a small eighteen-foot six-inch craft. The sailor of Solo finds himself two miles out to sea and quietly wondering: what the hell was he doing there?...
The plan was a quick dash around the Kent coast to move the yacht closer to home. It was a wonderful plan. Our budding Salty Old Sea Dog spent hours pouring over it. Well... It would have been a wonderful plan, had he not completely ignored the six-foot dingy Solo would be towing behind. It should all have been done and dusted by ten at night the same day. The Captain (newly promoted) sitting in the pub, pint of beer in hand with a smug smile on his face at a job well done. No!... Have to say, it didn't quite go according to plan. Our hero (for want of a better word) instead of being sat at that cosy bar, was in the middle of the North Sea. It's the dead of night. October. Extremely windy, and he's out there alone. Not entirely sure, but I think the smug smile was missing too.
The Sea had one attempt at killing him. The boat stayed upright, more by luck than anything else. Bit of fortune turns his way again, this time in the shape of a small harbour. Here he can lick his wounds and spend the night. He even manages, despite the closing darkness and howling gale, to get through the pier heads, and without smashing the yacht, or himself, to bits... Does he stay there? No!... He actually sets out to sea at three o'clock in the morning. If you wanted to be charitable, it was quite a nice night for a bit of a sail, and it was... At first... But this was the North Sea... The North Sea in winter.
As he left the pier heads, looking seaward, it was as dark as doomsday out there... He didn't know it, but it was only going to get darker.

Sailing Solo Alone: A yachting novel written as a warning to all those who would be foolish enough not to give the sea the respect she des