The Mirror dinghy is just under three metres long and it was originally designed so even the poorest would-be sailor could afford to have fun mucking about in a boat.
Yet Sandy Mackinnon has sailed one all the way from North Wales to the Black Sea, a nine- month odyssey in which he rowed and sailed 4900 kilometres.
The journey presented him with great dangers, he met an awful lot of nice people, he passed through 282 locks and saw the following countries drift by: Wales, England, France, Luxembourg, Germany, Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Serbia, Croatia, (which together make Yugoslavia), Bulgaria and Romania.
The 35-year-old Australian was teaching English and drama at Ellesmere College, Shropshire, last year. On his resignation (he would eventually take up a teaching job in Buenos Aires, Argentina, where he is now) he conceived the idea of a farewell to the school which would see him sailing off in the dinghy called Jack de Crow with its characteristic red Mirror sails into the sunset of adventure.
He auctioned off all his possessions and in September, 1997 his students and teacher colleagues waved him goodbye after a canal-side party. At the time he only planned to sail down the canals of western England and follow the course of the Severn river to Bristol. Little did he think that more than a year later he would have extended his journey to go through the heart of Europe.
On the way he suffered some heart-stopping moments and was lucky to escape with his life. "The worst was the trip down the Thames estuary from London to Dover in foul weather and battling with ferocious tides, mudflats and eventual genuine shipwreck off Whitstable where he ended up on a mudflat two miles out from the shore in a freezing gale with a snapped centreboard, a split gaff and no mainsheet pulley.
"Three hours later, I had also punched a large hole right through the hull while being driven up onto a shingle beach. The fact that I had landed in the back garden of an elderly lady whose boatbuilder son was staying for a week and who had all the tools and expertise - and kindness of heart - to help me rebuild the whole thing, is just one of those coincidences that so irritate all my friends... and with which the entire journey is peppered." He could also have lost his life when crossing the English Channel: "The actual day of the crossing was perfect for such a venture, from Dover to Calais. Having said that, I am lucky to be alive. I had failed to take into account the very strong northward running current, which took me well off course and had me heading for Sweden - and wondering why, after five hours, I could not find Europe anywhere. However, it undoubtedly saved my life, that current, as it took me well clear of the cross-channel ferry routes which would have certainly mown me down had I stuck to the direct route. A later attempt by someone in a Mirror a year later ended in tragedy when just such a thing happened."
There were plenty of other hairy moments. "Once Jack de Crow snapped her painter (mooring rope) in a storm in Slovakia and, sailing off without me, headed straight for the open jaws of Europe’s largest lock in competition with an industrial barge the size of Birmingham that was attempting to enter the lock at the same time.
"Or there was my arrest by the River Police beneath Westminster Bridge in London while I was being swept downriver at night without lights... ...or the teargas attack in the Budapest Metro system...or best of all, my capture by Romanian gypsy pirates in the Danube Delta and being led off by a horseman at the wrong end of a sub-machine gun into the trackless forest, there surely to be robbed and shot, and me only armed with a tightly clutched oar. (I survived, obviously, but it was rather tiresome at the time...)"
In spite of his novel form of travel, he suffered few bureaucratic hassles. The one exception was Bulgaria. "An official demanded to see my Ship’s Papers. Even when I showed him that Jack de Crow was merely a Mirror dinghy, he still insisted that every vessel had papers and that if I could not show him mine, then I had clearly stolen the boat. (What, and rowed 4000 km to escape from my pursuers?)
"Finally after an hour of obstinate stalemate, I sat down, took out a blank piece of paper and a pen, drew a fancy looking crest at the letterhead, wrote "Ship’s Papers for Jack de Crow", added in a few made up registration numbers and home ports and signatures, and then went back and said, "Oh, THESE Ship’s Papers, you mean?" He accepted them without a murmur, despite the fact that he had just watched me sit and concoct them!" He was not particularly well equipped when he started out. "I had a smallish rucksack, a sleeping bag, a Leatherman knife, a sponge (very useful), a pith-helmet, a tin-whistle, a big red and white spotty hanky, some pocket magic tricks, a set of watercolours and very little else. "I acquired on the way, somewhat more practically, some gardening gloves for rowing, a thin mattress, a pillow to sit on, (embroidered with parrots), a life-jacket, an emergency flare, a small anchor, a large tarpaulin, three waterproof sacks and a demigod-like set of bronzed biceps and broad tanned chest... a first for me. But I have long since reverted to usual white flab, alas..."
The Mirror is an open dinghy and there is no space to lie down. So he installed some removable decking planks to construct a bed.
"The idea was lifted straight from Coot Club, one of the Swallows and Amazon books by Arthur Ransome. In this Tom Dudgeon equips his little dinghy Titmouse for sleeping aboard by making an awning that drapes over the boom at night and laces down either side like a tent. This I would do - but whereas Tom slept curled up in the bilges, I planned to make a sort of removable decking, allowing me to lie on a flat platform level with the thwarts."
Over his sleeping quarters he secured an awning for protection and privacy which could be stowed when not in use.
He had no cooking equipment because there was no room. For most of the time he was near enough to a café, a bistro, a taverna or pub to eat well at night. "I did find that half-way through the trip, I was sick of eating at such places so each night would see me settling down to a bread roll stuffed with tomato, salami, and mayonnaise, followed by an apple and a bottle of beer or a glass of wine from a supply in the front lockers. For almost two months I lived on this simple and unvarying diet, picnicing on the banks each evening, and I never grew weary of it. It was also heavily supplemented by gifts of food spontaneously showered upon me by nearly every passer-by that I met."
Sandy loves Mirrors. "As a family we grew up sailing them at our holiday home in the Snowy Mountains on Lake Jindabyne, real Swallows and Amazons stuff with three elder siblings and Mum who is mad keen. I live largely in a world of storybooks, so I love the old-fashioned nature of Mirrors. The wooden construction, the gaff rig, the feeling that one is sailing a little galleon off in search of pirate gold rather than zooming around in a flashy shark-like Laser or Tupperware Topper."
Sandy has nearly completed a book on his adventure. Its working title is "Bumping Into Places". He says this is a reference to Doctor Dolittle’s methods of travelling which he has always admired.
His next adventure? Nothing for now, but for a lark he might consider riding an elephant from Tierra del Fuego to Alaska.
John MacLennan
