Crossing The English Channel On A Sailboat


Log – 15th to 16th June 2017 After spending three weeks in the Isles of Scilly we were itching to move on. Unfortunately, once our tiller pilot was installed and tested, the conditions weren’t ideal for our crossing. First, the waves were too big at 4 meters high, then the winds too low. We waited

Sailing The Isles of Scilly – A Baptism Of Fire


Log 25 May to 11 June, 2017 Our time in the Isles of Scilly was, if nothing else, eventful. A mayday call, rummaging through garbage with the police, unseasonal storms, an encounter with a basking shark, and some jaw dropping beaches. Shortly after our passage to the Scillies, when Elena succumbed to seasickness and Ryan

Bioluminescence On The Helford River


Log – 21st May to 24th May 2017 Over the past week we had various visitors on Kittiwake. First, my parents (Elena’s) came all  the way from Italy to check out our boat and make sure we could, in fact, sail. They stayed for four days and spoiled us with presents and meals out. In return,

All Hell Breaks Loose


Log – 6 May to 12 May, 2017 After the first stormy, sleepless night on Kittiwake, we were ready for a hearty meal and a good rest. But the weather gods had different plans. Rather than dying down, the winds built. And built. By evening, the weather station at the nearby Navy base, Cudrose, was

A Taste of Our New Lives


Log – 2 May to 5 May, 2017 The morning of the second of May dawned misty and atmospheric. We knew the forecast was for the sun to burn off the fog, but felt a little nervous that it would linger, and we’d have to postpone the little sailing adventure we were so excited about.

Falmouth boat sunset

Moving On


Log – 28 April to 1 May, 2017 We’re three days into our adventure. Actually, to call it an adventure is to undersell it a bit. We’ve completely changed our lives. On Friday we stuffed our trusty car to the gunwales, and made the last journey down to Falmouth from Manchester. We couldn’t fit another

Elena Sailing Kittiwake

Elena’s Backstory


I was born in a small village at the bottom of a valley near Bergamo, Italy. My family’s house isn’t far from the Alps – the Orobie are just a half an hour drive away. So I grew up hiking in the summer and skiing in the winter, but all I could think of was the