Guest editorial: A sailor's insight into inclusive sailing by Ian Wyllie

Inclusive sailing isn’t a new story. Long before any idea of para sport reached the world of sailing there were disabled people sailing with and against abled folks.

One of them was Andy Cassell, who was the inspiration for me in my sailing journey post complications from a spinal injury that left me in a nursing home. After several years rebuilding my capabilities racing Sonars in the Solent with the Andrew Cassell Foundation who help disabled people reach maximum independence on the water, I’ve migrated into solo singlehanded sailing.

My current project is a circumnavigation of Britain and Ireland to raise funds for the Foundation. The trip is going to take an extra year because a marina ‘bumped’ my mast and it’s been a struggle to get a new one, but I’m back on the water and equipped for a long swing north round the Hebrides and Shetland.

My boat is a Vancouver 27: Trilleen, a 45-year-old GRP yacht. I found her unloved and leaking in a boatyard. Her refit was an important part of my rehabilitation and allowed me to escape from the nursing home which had been looking after me for seven years. I’d ended up there after many severe UTI infections had left me mentally and physically debilitated. Rehabilitation is always a dicey prospect with uncertain ends.

I was prepared for things to go wrong and for me to have to sell her at a loss. Fortunately, it seems I am doing okay at living independent life in the wild again.

Trilleen is a cutter with a long keel and a sweet wineglass hull form that tracks beautifully under sail, whether in hand or steered by wind vane. On deck I’ve found that a small yacht like this suits me beautifully because I can get from the deep secure cockpit to the mast and indeed, all the way forward without standing up. At sea I spend a lot of time crawling round the boat, and in rough conditions I’m religious about wearing a helmet which has saved me nasty bumps on a few occasions.

I’ve found that in the longer passages I enter a peculiar, almost mediative state of calm where I only have to worry about sail trim, micro sleeping, and feeding myself. The fading of contact with the land and the concerns it bears as distance off increases is a wonderful experience. I find it rewards my soul in the same way as walking and climbing in the mountains did before my injury put a stop to all that. Disabled folks are so often deprived of access to the wilderness, but off the west coast of Ireland I discovered that Trilleen has become a vehicle which can float me into some of the wildest places on earth.

Beyond standard changes like rebuilding electrical systems, the number of adaptations I’ve made to the boat are small. Below deck the major things are that I’ve created a big roll-front locker for storing medical supplies. My wheelchair has become the navigation table seat and I’ve changed the sea toilet for a composting version, mostly because I found the sea toilets were too low and small to allow me to perform the continence care I need to do. I also fitted a heater and hot water system to ensure I don’t get hypothermic when doing things like changes to my suprapubic catheter.

On deck I fitted a reconditioned 1968 wind vane (hydrovane) in which I’ve developed great trust as a self-steering system. My anchor chain is now lifted on an electric windlass making anchoring a pleasure. This is an important safety feature since I often come to anchor before entering a harbour in order to sort things out slowly and without stress. My control lines all remain at the mast to keep the cockpit rope free and minimise the risk of ropes getting tangled round my heavy leg orthotics.

The harbours and marinas I’ve visited have been universally welcoming, and curious about my experiences sailing with a disability. Access varies massively between sites and does not correlate with the apparent level of quality the marina has. I’ve tried to be generous with giving input to help them improve access. This is a bit of passion because during my sail I’ve learnt just how many people are out there sailing with disabilities, including many who don’t think of themselves of disabled – but by the metric of a having an impairment which imposes a serious and long-term challenges – are. These are folks sailing post joint replacements, with MS, after head injury, and many, many more.

Recruiting this broader constituency to the cause of inclusive sailing broadens our community, increases the potential funding base, and can help discover and create more sites where disability sailing can flourish.