Stories from the water

Blog submitted by Laszlo Drummond, Rooster Rider   Going into the GB Team Selection Trials, I felt confident. The forecast looked good, with strong breeze conditions that I knew suited me well. Even so, sitting on the start line before the first race, I was nervous — but mostly excited. This was what I had worked for all year. Day One — Strong Start Race one started exactly how I’d hoped. I got a great start, managed to stay clear, and finished second. I backed that up with a 4th and then a win in the final race of the day, which meant I ended Day One leading the regatta in first position. It felt amazing, but I also knew selection weeks are long and anything can happen. Day Two — Things Started Falling Apart The first race of Day Two was okay. I finished 10th after dealing with both a yellow flag, penalty turns and losing 6 places Then came the second race. I was over the line at the start and received a BFD (Black Flag Disqualification). That immediately took away my discard and completely changed the scoreboard for me. In the final race that day, the wind died. I got trapped out to the right-hand side of the course and couldn’t recover, finishing 34th. That race was hard to handle. Carrying a 34 at a selection event is brutal, and suddenly I’d gone from leading the event to feeling like I had let myself down with unnecessary mistakes. Day Three — Another Black Flag Coming into Day Three, I knew I had to reset mentally and sail smart, most importantly not to push the line too hard. I tried to come in with an open mindset, knowing I needed strong races. But I pushed the line too hard again and got another black flag. I dont mind admitting that this was extremely emotional for me, I had minutes to pull myself together for the 3rd race. I managed it, gave everything I had a came first, another bullet. Still, at that point, most people probably thought my Worlds campaign was over. Honestly, statistically, it almost was. Carrying two black flags at a GB selection event and still making the Worlds Team was close to impossible. We worked out afterwards that my chances of recovering into the top five were tiny — almost non-existent. I was lying 12th overall and 56 points behind 5th place going into the final day. But I also knew the forecast for the last day was my kind of conditions: strong wind, where strategy, and confidence mattered. Final Day — Clawback Going into the final day, I knew exactly what I had to do. Top-five finishes weren’t enough anymore. I basically needed to win everything. The first race of the day went perfectly. I got off the line cleanly, sailed fast, and won the race. That gave me confidence immediately but I still had a mountain to climb. In the second race, I had another good start and led the race from the beginning all the way to the finish — another win. Suddenly the impossible started feeling possible. By the final race, the maths were simple: I needed to beat the sailor ahead of me by enough points to guarantee my Worlds Team spot. I went all in. I won the final race too. Four straight race wins under pressure to secure my place on the British Team heading to the World Championships. Lessons From the Week What I’ll probably remember most from this event isn’t actually the result — it’s the mindset. It’s easy to feel confident when things are going well. It’s much harder when everything starts going wrong. Carrying two black flags could have ended my week mentally. But instead, I tried to stay calm, reset each day, and trust my speed and training. One thing I’m proud of is that the comeback was significantly done by gathering my spirits and focus, not letting my emotions after the second black flag get the better of me, continuing to race as hard as I could, but without unnecessary risks, I That felt pretty special. The Team Around Me This result also definitely didn’t happen alone. I’m hugely grateful to everyone supporting me — my coach David, my family, my sponsor Rooster, and everyone who’s backed me through the hard years as well as the good ones. So to now be representing Great Britain at World Championship level for a second year means everything, it's my last year in the Optimist Class. Massive thanks to Rooster for supporting me throughout the journey. I’m incredibly proud to wear the kit and represent a brand that genuinely understands sailors and performance. Now… bring on Morocco.  

Blog submitted by Logan Bell, Rooster Rider   I describe my younger self as someone who really struggled with new environments, meeting new people, and changes in routine. When I first started sailing, it took me time to build trust and relationships with others in the sport. But one small step led to another, and within my first season I had already achieved far more than anyone expected of me. I found a sense of freedom, and something that no other sport or hobby had been able to give me. Sailing didn’t just give me a hobby. It gave me focus, helped me build friendships and relationships, allowed me to develop new skills, and most importantly, it became a real passion for me. Sailability gave me a sense of belonging, within a community that now stretches globally. I have just completed my 10th year of sailing, and my goals and hopes for future achievements continue to grow. What Sailability offers – a sport for everyone For me, the Sailability community has been transformative. It is a space where people meet without judgement, where tough days are understood, and where everyone is free to be themselves – mentally, physically, and emotionally. Whatever the need, it can be met, allowing freedom from life’s challenges. That sense of acceptance has become a foundation for me over the years. I have built confidence, passion, and drive not only to develop my own skills, but also to support others to achieve their goals and reach their potential. Through Sailability, I have had opportunities I could never have imagined. I have raced internationally across the globe, representing my country, growing, and developing both skills and qualifications along the way. I have naturally become a role model to other sailors, especially younger sailors who are facing similar challenges to those I have faced or am still working through. My message is simple: sailing is, and can be, for everyone. It is an inclusive sport. Sailing isn’t defined by background, ability, or circumstance. It is a sport that allows you to be yourself and take from it what you need. It gives you the opportunity to grow, explore, discover what you are capable of, and achieve things you may not have thought possible. For me, it has become both a lifeline and a passion. I have gained many qualifications, and I have been recognised for my achievements and for the difference I make to other people’s sailing journeys. I have received several awards and have been named a “Rising Star”. For someone else, sailing might be the beginning of an entirely new chapter. Giving back through sailing One of the most meaningful things to me now is watching newcomers take their first steps into the sport. I recognise the anxiety, uncertainty, and challenges that come with that moment, but I can also see the potential in what they could gain. Helping others find their own confidence and build their own journey is something I find humbling, and deeply rewarding to be part of.

Blog submitted by Amelie Ballantyne, Rooster Rider   Being a kid can be tough sometimes. There’s school, homework, friendships, and rules to follow. But when you’re a sailing kid, there’s another challenge: transitioning boat classes. At some point, the time will come to move on due to age, size, weight and this change can be tough too. For some people it’s exciting, but for others it can feel daunting. I want to share my experience of transitioning boat class and how it worked for me. I decided to make the move at the end of the summer, after the Topper Nationals. I had been sailing in the Topper class for a few years and chose to transition into the ILCA class due to my age. Looking back, I think the timing was right for me because it has given me the whole winter to train before the sailing season starts. Even so, I was still nervous. I worried about what the class would feel like, what the training would be like, would it be a massive step up, who I’d be sailing with, and knowing I would probably be nearer the back of the fleet at first. I had so many thoughts going through my head. I also spent a lot of time thinking about which class I should move into. I’m quite small and light, which would suit a double-handed boat best, but that also means dealing with a crew and I wanted to sail a single-handed boat so I could be my own boss. Naturally, as there are a lot around, I headed in the ILCA direction. I applied for the RYA ILCA 4 Transition Talent Academy and, after the selection process, I was on the program for the year alongside other sailors who were also transitioning to the class. I was happy to find out that two of my Topper friends, George and Charlie, were doing the same thing. That made the whole experience feel a lot less daunting. The RYA Talent Academy has been a great option for me, and the coaches have been fantastic. From the very first day however, training DID step up a level! One of the biggest differences I noticed straight away was the level of expectation on us. We were treated like youth sailors and expected to be much more independent, especially with our boat preparation and learning. Not long after starting the Talent Academy, our coach suggested that we sign up for the ILCA National Opens at WPNSA. Most of us decided to go for it, even though secretly none of us really felt ready for it. On the first day, I was extremely nervous. Looking around the dinghy park, I saw adults, Olympians, and sailors I’d always looked up to. The atmosphere felt very different from junior sailing; less chaotic, more chilled out and people just get on with their own thing. There was no pushing at the tally board queue and far less parents and siblings present. I definitely felt a bit of imposter syndrome creeping in and assumed I’d struggle. Sailing with around 70 boats on my rig on the start line, heading out past the harbour wall for the first time ever, was a huge step up. The waves, the pace, and the competition were intense. But when I came off the water, I felt absolutely buzzing. It was challenging for sure, but it was so amazing…..and I didn’t come last! The ILCA class has been very welcoming and helpful to new bees like me. Since then I have done several national events, including the RYA Youth Nationals on the ILCA 6 rig, which was awesome. My advice to anyone thinking about transitioning classes is to choose your timing carefully and not rush into it. It’s a big step up from junior sailing, but if you feel ready, it can be incredibly rewarding. For me, looking back, I feel that you naturally head in a certain direction, but don’t forget you can try out other classes if you are not sure, such as the WASZP and NACRA15 classes for example. They often run taster/demo days which are great fun. Think about what class would suit you carefully, and don’t be afraid to feel nervous because that’s completely normal. It’s all about enjoying yourself, so sail something you like with the people you want to hang out with.

Written by Dani Anglada Pich Who I Am   My name is Dani Anglada Pich. I was born in Barcelona in 1986, and the sea has been part of me for as long as I can remember. I first set sail at the age of six in dinghies, and from that very moment I knew: this was where I felt alive. The sound of the wind, the balance of the boat, the salt on my skin—it was home.   At twenty, I was already skippering the ex-Fortuna Light, Spain’s entry in the 1986 Whitbread Round the World Race. That boat carried the spirit of ocean adventure, and being at her helm pushed me to dream even bigger.   Later I studied at the Nautical Faculty of Barcelona, Polytechnic University of Catalogne, becoming a merchant marine officer. My life was all about the sea. And then, in 2018, everything collapsed. An accident on board a merchant vessel left me totally blind.   The first years were brutal. I’ll be honest—I felt like I had lost myself as well as my sight. But slowly, step by step, the sea pulled me back. With rehabilitation, with my family and friends beside me, with professionals and foundations who believed in me, I rebuilt myself. I learned to live again. And more than that—I chose to keep sailing.   In 2024, I founded Yes We Sail, both an association and a start-up, to prove that the sea belongs to everyone, especially those who are told they “can’t.” Sailing became my way of life again, but also my mission: to show that limits are not walls, they are just horizons waiting to be crossed. Why I Took on the Challenge Less than a year before the challenge, I said out loud: “I want to sail solo around the Isle of Wight.” At the time it sounded crazy—even to me. But I knew it had to mean something more than just sailing. During the 37th America’s Cup in Barcelona, I had the support of the organisation and the unconditional encouragement of Grant Dalton. Grant embodies what the Cup is about: perseverance, effort, resilience. I wanted to honour that support. And where better than the Isle of Wight—the very waters where the Hundred Guineas Cup was sailed in 1851, the race that would later become the America’s Cup, and the stage for regattas like the Admiral’s Cup and Cowes Week. To attempt this circumnavigation blind, in a Patí a Vela—a boat with no rudder, no centreboard, no boom—was my way of tying history to the present. A way to say: the sea is for everyone. And a call: bring sailing back to the Paralympic Games in Brisbane 2032. Preparation: From Dream to Voyage To make this real, every detail had to change. My boat, Lady, a Patí a Vela, was built with tactile textures on deck so I could “read” her with my feet and hands. Every rope had a unique feel, so I knew it instantly. I wore a haptic vest that pulsed vibrations for waypoints and wind direction. I studied 3D maps of the island until I could imagine the tides and currents in my head as clearly as if I had seen them with my eyes. Training in Cowes was intense. The East Cowes Sailing Club opened their doors to me—their slipway, their trust, even their friendship. Magnus Wheatley gave tactical advice, and engineers, volunteers, and sponsors all turned a fragile idea into something seaworthy. And   Lady, built two years earlier with a master boatbuilder and myself, became more than a boat: she was my voice, my balance, my partner. The Odyssey Around the Island 24 July 2025, 08:01. The cannon of the Royal Yacht Squadron fired. I set off. The first stretch to The Needles was pure joy—12 knots of speed, wind NNW 10–15, and I could feel Lady fly.   Then, silence. At Freshwater Bay the wind dropped, and I had to push eight miles offshore into the Channel to find a breath of air. It took over five hours to reach St Catherine’s Point, sailing downwind with under 10 knots and rolling waves. The Patí doesn’t like that course—it felt unstable, restless under me.   Past the lighthouse, the sea flattened, a NE breeze came in at 12 knots with gusts to 18. For a moment, I thought finally, easier. I was wrong.   After nine hours at sea, past Ventnor and Sandown Bay, came the real trial. The tide turned at low water. Chaos. Gusts slammed up to 28 knots. The hull creaked, the mast groaned, and I thought: What am I doing here, risking everything?   But I stayed. I listened. I focused. I trusted the protocol I’d spent four years building. The Patí speaks if you pay attention—through vibrations, through the surge of the hull, through whispers in the rig. Step by step, I fought on. Thirteen tacks. Twice I was thrown to the deck, struggling to get her steady again. But I carried on.   By sunset, I was spent. Exhaustion, cold, pain. The last miles to Cowes weren’t a fight with the sea—they were a fight with myself. I trimmed the sail, so I didn’t have to move, and locked my focus on the wind, the tide, the rhythm of the boat. The Finish Line Finally, the tide lifted me, a soft breeze carried me home. Crossing the line wasn’t the victory I had imagined—it was survival. It was release. It was rebirth.   I collapsed on deck, overwhelmed, and kissed Lady for all she had endured, for bringing me back safe. Two years earlier, with a master boatbuilder, I had begun shaping her. Now, whole and unbroken, she had carried me to harbour. In that moment, I felt nothing but honour. She wasn’t just a boat—she was my companion, my sight, speaking to me mile after mile until we made it home together. Reflections: What the Sea Taught Me That day I lived everything: calm and storm, fear and joy, despair and triumph. Times when I doubted. Times when I felt free beyond words. By the end, it all exploded inside me—sadness, pride, exhaustion, happiness, strength.   I realised this: what we call limits are often just perceptions. The sea strips you down until only truth remains. And with preparation, courage, and passion, you can go further than anyone ever thought possible. Gratitude None of this would have been possible without those who believed. My deepest thanks to the East Cowes Sailing Club, to Magnus Wheatley, to every volunteer, to my sponsors, and especially to Rooster. The technical clothing and equipment they provided protected me to the very last wave. But more than gear, they gave me something priceless: belief. Belief in people, in dreams, and in the idea that sailing belongs to everyone. And a very special mention to my main sponsor, Port Masnou and Club Nàutic El Masnou. They’ve been with me from the very start—not only supporting this challenge but building the future of inclusive sailing. They opened their facilities, shared their coaching, and stood behind Yes We Sail with trust and commitment. Without them, this dream would never have left the shore. Closing Message To anyone who doubts themselves: remember this. Disabilities are not limits. They are different abilities, different perspectives, different strengths.   If I, without sight, could sail solo around the Isle of Wight, then you too can face your seas—whatever form they take.   This was more than a challenge. It was the beginning of a new horizon: a call for inclusive sailing, for courage, and for the will to believe again.    

Blog written by Kirsten Pollock, SKUD18 Sailor   Hansa are the largest manufacturer in the world of sail boats used by people with disabilities. The boats are designed to a Universal principle, with weighted keels, that allows anyone, whether young, old, able or with a disability to sail easily and safely, making sailing a very equal and inclusive sport. Every two years the five Hansa Classes come together for an International and World Championships. The boats are named by metric size, the smallest is the 2.3, then 303 divided into one and two-person fleets, the larger Liberty and finally the fast and powerful Paralympic SKUD18. The 2025 Hansa Worlds took place at Pittwater, near Sydney, Australia. Sixteen nations, with competitors from Australia, Chile, France, Germany, Great Britain, Hong Kong, Italy, Japan, Netherlands, New Zealand, Poland, Portugal, Singapore, South Korea, Spain and USA took part and, representing Great Britain in the SKUD Class, was me, crewed with top local sailor Brett Pearce who was Australian Reserve Crew for the 2016 Paralympics in Rio. Other illustrious names in the fleet were Dan Fitzgibbon, three times Paralympic Medallist, plus Asia Pacific SKUD Champion Neil Rowsthorne. The Rooster clothing was brilliant, especially the long sleeved UV top, neck sleeve and cap helped protect me and my crew from the sun. I have fair skin and burn very easily so having the right clothing especially in strong UV conditions makes all the difference. I could focus on sailing rather than having to contend with sunburn etc. After the regatta I went travelling and Rooster were with me every step or wheel of the way. I spent a few days in central Sydney. I then went to Uluru, from there I went to Port Douglas and went to the Barrier Reef, I wore Rooster kit in the water to protect me from the UV rays. I then went to Melbourne. My Rooster kit proved to be the ultimate travel companion — keeping me protected, comfortable, and ready for whatever came next. Whether I was sailing in high-performance conditions or exploring some of Australia’s most iconic landscapes, having reliable gear made all the difference. I genuinely wouldn’t travel — or sail — without it.

Blog submitted by Richard Westlake, West Lancashire Yacht Club   At West Lancashire Yacht Club, we believe sailing should be for everyone — regardless of background or income. That’s why, over the past few years, we’ve worked hard to grow our Outreach Programme, making sailing more accessible to young people in our local community.   In 2024, we were honoured to receive the RYA Sunsail “Funding the Future” Award — national recognition for our grassroots outreach work. It’s a programme built in partnership with local primary schools, including Norwood and Larkfield, right here in Southport.   Through this initiative, we’ve introduced nearly 200 Year 5 pupils to the water — many of whom had never even considered sailing before. With the help of our fantastic volunteers and the enthusiastic support of the schools, every child has been able to take part, regardless of experience or financial circumstance. Teachers have joined in too, showing how sailing can connect people of all ages and abilities.   But this is about more than just one day on the marine lake in the heart of the children's hometown. For us, it’s about building confidence, sparking ambition, and creating real opportunities for young people to progress — whether that’s continuing at club level or one day racing competitively. As a newly recognised British Sailing Pathway Club, we’re committed to helping those journeys continue.   We’re also proud to work closely with Southport schools and with West Lancashire Yacht Club members who give their time, expertise, and passion to support these young sailors. It’s a real community effort — and we’re only just getting started.   This year, we’re excited to be running a raffle alongside our famous 24 Hour Race, helping raise vital funds to support and expand the Outreach Programme, with great prizes from several sponsors. Thanks to the generous support from Rooster, prizes include high-performance kit from their SB1 and Shoreline ranges.   With Rooster’s backing, we’re not just celebrating endurance on the water — we’re investing in a future where more young people can experience the thrill of sailing, no matter their starting point.   Because for us, real endurance isn’t just about sailing non-stop for 24 hours — it’s about building a sport, a club, and a community that lasts a lifetime.   To find out more and follow what West Lancashire Yacht Club are doing, head to their Facebook, Instagram, Tiktok or Website.

Blog submitted by Rooster Rider Scarlett Hadley from St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Competing in the 2023 Pan American Games in Chile was something I never imagined would be possible so early in my sailing career. Here I was at 16 years old, representing St. Vincent and the Grenadines on one of the biggest stages in the sport. It was also my very first international competition which is crazy to look back on.    Coming from a small Caribbean Island where sailing is not as competitive or recognized, stepping into the competitive sailing world was surreal and inspirational. I was racing against Olympians that I had previously only seen online and looked up to. Suddenly, I was no longer watching them, I was racing against them.      It meant the world to be able to represent my country. To have our flag on my sail and to know I was opening doors for other young sailors at home was what really made every challenge worth it. It pushed me far out of my comfort zone but also showed me how far passion, hard work, and belief can take you.    This experience would've been impossible without the support of Rooster, whose gear made it possible for me to compete at the top level, where before our sailors had little knowledge about the gear needed to perform at the best, especially in the cold conditions in Chile. The support has kept me prepared, whether racing in tropical heat or chilly winds and I’m incredibly grateful. As I anticipate the Junior Pan American Games in August and the Youth World Championships in Portugal this coming December, I'm hoping to be ready with the right equipment, especially a jacket to help with those freezing temperatures between races!      The PanAm Games, which would usually be a later goal for most, was just the beginning for me. I’m excited to keep learning, growing, and hopefully inspiring the next generation of sailors in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. 

“When I am sailing, I never think about my lack of sight.” These words, spoken by Lucy Hodges MBE, encapsulate the true spirit of Blind Sailing — a world where limitations are left ashore, and the wind becomes their guide.