READ OUR STORY
CHAPTER 1
The decision to buy a boat started off as an outlandish fantasy that would never actually happen until years down the line. We had only known each other a matter of months and most people our age were focusing on getting promotions, settling down and having kids, not sailing round the world. Slowly and seamlessly though, without too much actual discussion, the threads of this dream started to weave together and before we knew it the boat search had begun.
The name Jacqeau was born in a tiny mosquito filled hut on a hill in Antigua. We were just two highly competitive individuals, fueled by a little red wine, trying everything we could to win. So when JP put down the word JACQEAU on a double word tile with its high scoring J,C and Q, it was quickly put into question. Despite its questionable scrabble credentials, for some reason the word itself appealed to us. It became the title of the boat hunt WhatsApp group and the search commenced.
CHAPTER 2
To say we worked tirelessly through the refit is an understatement. So much so, that trying to piece together a clear and flowing memory of that time is next to impossible. There are, however, a few stories of luck and wonder that are worth telling here.
The keys were handed over to us towards the end of May and the plan was to get her ocean-ready by August to sail the Atlantic and get back home. Given the sheer amount of work that was needed to even make the boat liveable, this was a huge task. Most work days would start first thing and we’d work straight through till 3 or 4am. With no running water or electrics we’d use the dock shower to rinse ourselves off before putting the salon floorboards back down, rolling out a mattress and passing out.
CHAPTER 3
One of the main reasons we bought the boat was to challenge ourselves. To push ourselves beyond the limit and see how we, as humans, respond. It is incredibly hard to find that out when you have any sort of safety net around you.
However, in the first 3 months of being in the water we got what we asked for and more - one tremendous challenge at a time.
Taking Jacqeau for our first sea trial was incredible. After spending so much time on other people’s boats, it was surreal to be radioing ahead to an upcoming drawbridge saying our boat’s name officially for the first time on VHF. This was it - it was really happening.
CHAPTER 4
Like it or not we found ourselves stuck in America. More specifically, perched front and centre of Kingman Yacht Centre – Cape Cod, the thriving social hub of the surrounding picture-perfect town. The yard had a fabulous old-school piano bar and restaurant which had a revolving clientele of happy holiday makers and local boaters. To get to the bar from the car park you pretty much had to walk underneath Jacqeau so it didn’t take long for news to spread that two British folks had been washed up there and soon we became the talk of the town.
We quickly got to the bottom of what had caused the leak. In laymen’s terms, the propellor of the boat is attached to the engine via a long metal pole called the prop-shaft that goes through a hole in the bottom of the boat via something called the shaft log. A bolt had become loose in one of the internal mechanisms connecting it to the engine causing the entire prop-shaft to massively over-rotate and crack the shaft log. As a result the prop shaft had bent so we needed a new prop shaft to be made, fitted and the entire shaft log to be re-glassed and reinforced. All this was going to take a few weeks so there was no chance of crossing the Atlantic anymore. We said a sad goodbye to Colin and Grant and settled back into the familiarity of shipyard life.
CHAPTER 5
There was no question about it, we were late to make the sail down to the Caribbean. The weather was dreadful, but the longer we left it the worse it would become. It was the beginning of December and every 3 days a daunting low-pressure system tore its way through the east coast of America bringing (at least) gale strength winds. With forecasts drastically changing by the hour, the one bit of advice we kept hearing was to leave on the back of a nasty weather system, then you should have 3 days to get as far offshore as you can before the next one hits.
Heavily reefed and wearing every layer possible, we hurtled out of New York with 40knts of wind behind us. As the city lights became a distant glow, the boat jerked from side to side, confused by the bounce of the swell against the land. Our bodies, now settled into 6 months of land life started to re-adjust to the constant movement of the sea and by nightfall we began to slot into a rhythm.
