TRIXOLAR, 37 ft Searunner. A SHORT AUTOBIOGRAPHY. . 10 October 2006

I began as a huge pile of plywood in the sun lounge of Tolcarne, Gables Rd, Fleet, in Hampshire, England. Around 122 sheets of three eighths ply alone, and about 100 of other thicknesses too. A stack of one inch planed Douglas Fir was seasoning in a temporary plastic shed in the back garden where on 16 May 1976 my first frame was ceremonially marked out and cut to shape. This was David, my builder's, 40th birthday.

In the next five and a half years, I grew steadily, first my outriggers, then the main hull, hung on pulleys and ropes , and finally I formed into one gloriously sculptured shape, delicately arched wings and topped by a curved teak laminated windscreen.

Some of my parts had been constructed in a school workshop where David taught shop. My aluminium cleats and the boss for my steering wheel, and other special parts, were all cast in the school foundry. My teak rub rails, winch bases and laminated steering wheel all began life as an old unwanted science laboratory bench. Of course my hull and deck were all covered in polyester resin and glass, painted white to protect the ply from the heat and moisture.

My mast was built from a kit, and all the stainless chain plates were cut, shaped and smoothed by hand in the workshops. My interior was made as lightly as possible, using painted white ply and varnished teak trim, with plenty of drawers and cupboard storage places, and the usual galley and head appliances. My table in the sterncastle incorporated a chart of the Turks and Caicos Islands which had been the inspiration for my building. Great deliberation went into the question, "inboard or outboard engine?", and I was finally given a transom mounted extra long shaft 15hp Chrysler outboard.

To reach the sea was quite a journey. In 1982, I flew over the garden hedge on to a low loader truck using a mobile crane, then 57 miles with a police escort to Portsmouth for the launch, with a dockside crane and my built-in lifting points and harness. (This event was recorded by a photograph in the US 'Multihulls' magazine). Three bottles of lemonade were cracked on my three hulls by David's wife and two daughters and they all shared three bottles of champagne with friends and family gathered to watch, in March 1982. My name perhaps needs an explanation. I was a TRImaran for the sun (SOLAR). David's first boat had been a model yacht built for him when he was 6 years old by his father and called TRIX. A combination of all these gave TRIXOLAR.

My first sailing trips in the 'Solent' area were very cautious indeed as David and Julie had not sailed anything bigger than a sunfish previously. Gradually we all became more ambitious, and even got along the South coast as far as Cornwall, and across the English Channel to France, in our second year

The sailing seasons in UK were a short five months each year and I lived on a mooring in Southampton water until July 1986 when David retired and we were free to roam were ever we pleased with no time restrictions.

The plan was to see if we could reach Gibraltar, which seemed so far away from British shores, as our longest none-stop passage so far had been 27 hours. So, over to France, and then the leap into the unknown, across the dreaded Bay of Biscay, which treated us well until the gale of the last 30 miles. Not bad for a 60 hour passage The coasts of Spain and Portugal were a real pleasure, where they got to use the two bicycles stored in my outrigger, listen to foreign languages, and eat new foods. At each new anchorage we made new friends, and discussed cruising destinations. Most were headed for the Mediteranean, but tales of 'no wind or too much' , 'motoring 80% of the time', and 'mostly marinas and not much anchoring', gradually put my skipper and crew off that course of action. The Canary Islands sounded much more romantic.

So it was that the next long passage took four complete days, from Tangier to Lanzarotte, and the seas were huge, like mountains. Luckily they were from behind, and we made great progress, clocking a regular 14, 7, 14, 7, on the trailing knotmeter as each wave pushed us on our way.

We spent a whole year in the Canary Islands, anchoring in all of them, and having a total of 27 guests, family and friends.

Then on down to the Cap Verde Island group, a passage of 6 glorious days, with the sun getting warmer, and David honing his navigation skills using his plastic sextant. My wind vane, named Lucy, took on almost all steering, leaving my crew to marvel at the flying fish, the night sky and the deep blue sea.

Anchoring in all the main three Cap Verde islands, and not really enjoying any of them, we were well pleased to sail next to the coast of Africa, and head up the River Gambia. This was a real taste of primitive living, but with really friendly people, who owned nothing but a few chickens and were totally happy and content. My keel touched the muddy river bed on lots of occasions, but we enjoyed our time there very much, and reached as high up the river as was navigable, seeing alligators, monkeys and parrots, with David and Julie being entertained by the village Elder, Bulong Ceeshay, in his home.

Then moving on down south to Senegal, and up the Cassamence River. Again, an enjoyable experience, but spoiled by the corrupt French speaking officials who demanded bribes for everything, even before we could collect our Christmas mail package.

On Christmas Eve 1988 we set sail across the great Atlantic Ocean. Studying the charts and the sailing guides had convinced David that the best way across was the shortest, and he had always fancied visiting the unique Capital City of Brazil anyway ! After 13 days we anchored at the Island Fernando de Noronha, and then another 6 days down the South American coast to Salvador Bahia. This is a tremendous cruising area, with rivers to explore, and easy shallow sailing.

On down to Rio de Janiero, a marina mooring and with bicycles used to reach Copa Cobana and Ipanema Beaches. Another night sail down to the 'Bay of Islands' with lovely rocky inlets and scenery.

Brasil was total excitement, the varied people, the language, and the strange money that seemed almost to grow in our hands. Only £1 for 5 chickens, and a full three course meal for two with drinks for less than £1. It was all so good that we stayed for our full visa quota of 90 days, renewing on two occasions, until we were literally thrown out after ten months.

The sail up the coast was taken in 2 day passages, stopping wherever there was a suitable anchorage, It was here that we had our worst ever experience. one day the sky darkened and the rain came, and worst of all the sea inside the anchorage became extremely agitated, The tide and the wind combined to swirl the water, and boats of all types dragged moorings and anchors. That night people lost their lives ashore in beach huts and on landslides in the close hills, and fishermen drowned. We were extremely lucky to get away with only a small hole in one outrigger where a large fishing boat had caught in our anchor line and bashed against us.

A pleasant stay in French Guiana, at Isle de Salut, famous as a past penal colony, but again we were sent on our way as there was a firing of Ariadne, the space rocket, due as we left.

Next stop was Tobago, a lovely place, and on to Grenada, and then visiting all the islands up the chain to the Virgin Islands, and Puerto Rico. A longer sail to the Turks and Caicos Islands, where we were greeted as long lost friends, and I was left alone in 'the creek' while David and Julie lived in a house and enjoyed fridges and freezers, showers and ice creams.

Bahamas next, shallow waters of all the colours imaginable, and on to the great US of A. We felt really great as we motored under the bridge into Fort Lauderdale, back into civilisation once more, with shopping malls, traffic lights and lines of cars. I was left tied to a private dock while the crew took a well needed flight home to the family in England.

A year in America soon passed with them seeing many of the sights. They bought a van and toured around leaving me happily in a marina at Canaveral, with the excitement of regular rocket launches.

Cuba was next, a short but great visit, and then a trip right round Florida in the ICW and through the Lake Okechobee. It was in 'The Glades Boatyard' where I was hauled and left from '92 to '94.

My longest passage ever was from Florida down to the US Virgins, 14 hard days, in Nov of '95, after a complete outside awlgrip paint job. A leisure stopping sail back to Grenada, and on to Trinidad, with its famous Carnival. Hauled in Peaks yard, my inside was given a new coat of paint and varnish. I was ready for anything, the Panama Canal probably, BUT I was suddenly put up for sale. What a shock !

Possible buyers sailed with us to Venezuela, and then Bud and Judy Puch finally decided that I was to be their new home, replacing an ageing Piver tri. We all sailed together up to the US virgins where I was signed over to the new Captain and given an American number and ensign. Davids' last sail was as acting as a crewmember, up to Grand Turk Island, where he jumped ship with his belongings, bicycle, and Steel Pan, and flew home after some tears as he watched me sail off over the horizon.

My British Registration Book was passed to the authorities in UK, and they acknowledged that it had been destroyed on May 16th 1996, by a fantastic coincidence, exactly 20 years after the cutting of my first frame. Full details of my life are in 5 big logbooks, and this narrative is only a quick glance through all my travels and adventures. My British Ships Registration in still documented available to view in the Museum of Shipping in Greenwich London. Builder David Moseley.