Life as a solo sailor

Alone on the sea, there is nobody else you can rely on. Sailing alone is terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure

Exclusive | 4 min read | As told to Elizabeth Harris 

In sailing, you often face one of two problems: either too much wind, or no wind at all. The first time I sailed a port-to-port passage alone was on a little 19-foot sailboat, along South Africa’s treacherous coastline - one scattered with ships that wrecked hundreds of years ago, as well as those that sank in more recent days.

It was the darkest of nights on the Eastern Cape. Streaks of algae-generated phosphorescence lit up the water enchantingly and I could hear the sound of breaking waves. The ocean was so calm, the stars above reflected onto the water’s surface. As magical as the scene was, my heart was racing because those gentle waves were breaking on a nearby reef - and I was drifting towards it.

I had no engine on the small quarter-ton vessel to power me away from the threat. I needed wind. I had to stay calm and rely on my instincts, that told me I would find wind this close to shore. Then, like a godsend, a land-breeze suddenly filled my sails and I quickly set course to clear the reef and move further out into the safety of deeper waters.

This is the life of a solo sailor.

The longest I've been alone at sea is 67 days. No human contact. No talking. No stopping off at land. When you’re alone for that long, you get into a rhythm of solitude. There’s no loneliness, you don’t miss people or things, you just feel peace. The great expanse of water around you becomes a comfort as you look around and know for sure that you’re the only person for miles. It’s incredibly calming.

A stunning shot of Kirsten at the helm, amidst the frozen waterscape behind her. Photo: Bertie Gregory

A stunning shot of Kirsten at the helm, amidst the frozen waterscape behind her. Photo: Bertie Gregory

Unpredictable dangers

The sea can be a very unpredictable and dangerous place to be, especially as a solo sailor. You have responsibility for the boat, the navigation, and your own safety and if anything goes wrong, there’s no one else to turn to.

Last year, a very experienced sailor was hit by a freak wave. He and a crew member were washed overboard, never to be seen again. He’d been navigating that very stretch of water between the Falklands and South Georgia for 20 years. Familiarity doesn’t always equate to safety on the seas.

When you’re on the water, you can never get over-confident. When the weather starts to change and the swell gets larger and your little boat begins to dip and sway and really get knocked about, it doesn’t always matter how good your local knowledge is or how much experience you have. On the water, anyone can be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Lifelong love

Kirsten wrapped up warm on a boat as the land disappears behind her. Photo: Kirsten Neuschäfer

I’ve been sailing since my childhood in South Africa, but professionally since the age of 24 when I achieved my Yachtmaster qualifications. Though I now skipper sailing vessels on expeditions across the world – from the Arctic to the Antarctic – my heart lies in sailing solo.

Single-handed sailing gives you a feeling of freedom and self-reliance you don’t get anywhere else. When you finally arrive home safe, there’s a feeling of enormous accomplishment: it was all on you and you did it. There’s nothing like it.

Throughout my life, I’ve done many things on my own. When I was 23, I cycled from Europe back to South Africa alone, a distance of 15,000km over the course of a year. That space between isolation and independence is where I feel most at home – I like being on a personal mission and being totally reliant on myself to achieve my goals.

Alone on the ocean, you experience that, plus the thrill of the elements; seeing the world at its most natural and raw. And in the tough times, when you’re swaying as much as the mast above your head, or when you’re being swallowed by a storm, it’s all about your own strength, determination and focus.

Sailing solo across entire oceans is the ultimate test of endurance, skill and stamina. You use your whole body to pull on lines and use winches, so physical strength is essential. And mentally you must be strong too, particularly when fatigue sets in and rational decision-making becomes more difficult.

Exhausting work

Sleeping is a major challenge when you’re alone at sea. When the weather is stable, you try to get as much rest as you can; if the wind is consistently coming from one direction at a steady speed, like when you’re in the Trade Winds in the Atlantic or the Pacific, that’s when you can sleep deeply and fully because you know you’re not going to blow off course.

But when the weather is more unstable or you get to an area with lots of shipping, or a coastal area with reefs, that’s when it gets more taxing in terms of fatigue. In those situations, when I need to stay awake for a long periods of time, I take catnaps, setting alarms every five to ten minutes. I get up, check everything’s fine and then go back to sleep again, repeating until the weather or water clears.

Stock photo of boat navigation. Photo: Ian Keefe/Unsplash

Stock photo of boat navigation. Photo: Ian Keefe/Unsplash

It can be hours or days without a proper night’s sleep but it’s the only way to get through dangerous conditions when you’re sailing on your own. Short, quick naps are enough to keep you mentally alert.

Nowadays boats are really high-tech but I’ve also learnt celestial navigation, the technique of navigating using the stars – the one Maui teaches Moana in the famous Disney film.

When I first started my sailing career, I used to do deliveries for private clients - sailing newly-purchased boats to their new owners - and a delivery would easily be two months at sea.

Going old-school

During that time, you have a chance to read books and learn new skills. I learnt celestial navigation because, for me, it feeds into this idea of becoming a proper sailor, learning the history behind the things we take for granted today in modern sailing.

I always dreamed of circumnavigating the globe the old-school way, rather than with the help of the incredible gadgets that boats have nowadays. When I heard of the Golden Globe Race, I knew instantly this race was for me.

Held every four years, it gets back to the core of solo sailing. Competitors must circumnavigate the globe without the aid of any modern technology or satellite navigation. All the boats must have designs dating back pre-1988. There’s no outside assistance, and you can only contact the race organisers with a satellite phone – calling anyone else results in a penalty or disqualification.

The mental preparation for a race is different compared to deliveries. On a delivery, there’s not too much time pressure – the main emphasis is on not letting the boat get damaged. If you’re racing competitively, you have to push yourself the whole time. I visualise myself staying on the very edge of what I can cope with and staying there for the whole race. That’s the only way you can win it.

Soul-searching

No matter how well prepared you are, anything can happen, so you have to have complete trust in yourself. Trust that you can get yourself out of any situation and make it home safe. That’s when you truly know yourself.

At the time of writing, 24 sailors have added their name to the list of competitors. Of them, I’m the only woman. A Moana among Mauis. Wouldn’t it be something if I could take the title? I’m sure as heck going to try. 

Kirsten at the top of the mast. Photo: Kirsten Neuschäfer

Kirsten at the top of the mast. Photo: Kirsten Neuschäfer

Golden Globe Race 2022

Sailors are invited to attempt Sir Robin Knox-Johnston’s historic world-first solo non-stop circumnavigation in 1968-69 and are limited to sailing yachts with similar equipment to that was available to Sir Robin. That means no modern technology or satellite-based navigation aids. 

Of the 2018 event’s 18 competitors, 13 did not finish. The five who completed the challenge took up to 11 months. Frenchman Jean-Luc Van Den Heede eventually won after 212 days at sea – that’s six months and 28 days.

The long list of assistance not allowed includes: GPS, radar, chart plotters, electronic charts, electronic wind instruments, electronic log, mobile phones, CD players, electronic watches or clocks, video cameras, satellite equipment, digital binoculars or computer devices of any kind. 

The next event takes place in 2022. You can find more information here.

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