BOOKS The ocean voyager and me

Di Beach, 20, was living in Kampala in the 1960s with her architect husband, Rod Pickering, and their baby daughter, Jojo. One Saturday they were foraging in a second-hand shop when Rod had a momentous, life-changing find. As always, he had headed straight for the books… ‘Di, look at this! It’s bloody amazing!’

I trundled the pram over to where he was wrestling with bundles of books, five or six volumes tied together with string. He scanned the titles, yelled with delight. He stacked them on top of each other, a look of intense joy on his face and surveyed his booty.

‘Look at this! Slocum, Dana, Hiscock, Pye, Tilman. I don’t believe it. A complete library of sailing classics here, a thousand miles from the nearest salt water!’ I had never seen him so ecstatic.

‘I’ll take the lot. Budge up, Jojo, let’s fill up your pram!’ For the next few months communication between us was reduced to the minimum necessary to sustain life. Then he spoke. ‘Di, I think we should buy a boat and sail home.’ ‘You think what?’ Had I heard right? Rod put his arms round me and hugged me tightly.

‘It would be the most amazing adventure. And you’d love it. I know you would.’ His eyes were shining as he tried to dance me round the room. I stopped him. ‘How do you know that? And what about Jojo? She’s just a baby. It’s too dangerous. I think it’s a crazy idea.’

By this time he had danced me into the bedroom and we landed in a heap on the bed.

‘Di! But you are crazy! We are crazy! You don’t want to live like all these other people for the rest of your life, do you? What about your dreams of South America? We could go there together! Think about all those early explorers of Africa that fascinate you. Well, this is the same. Fired by the same ideas. Curiosity. Freedom. Autonomy. Adventure.

And Jojo – you don’t want her to grow up like all those other spoilt urban kids do you? And think about why you’ve been so unhappy here – it’s probably got a lot to do with all the same things I hate about so-called civilised life.’ He paused, took my face between his hands and gazed at me intently.

‘Di. It would be an incredible voyage of discovery. A quest into the unknown.’ He kissed me gently. ‘It’s something I have to do. It’s really important and I want you to do it with me.’ […]

The experiences of the authors were a learning tool. Rod used them to teach himself about the ideal cruising boat design, essential equipment for long passages, potential routes, and blue-water sailing techniques. The fact that he had only ever raced dinghies and had no practical experience of oceanic big boat sailing did not deter him.

Rod was absorbed in the books he had bought but I didn’t really believe what he said about sailing to England. It just didn’t seem possible. One evening, he reintroduced the subject into the conversation.

‘Di, let’s ask Colin to dinner and talk to him about the boat idea. Maybe he’d like to join us, be a partner in it.’

‘No he wouldn’t. Colin’s really sensible. He wouldn’t do anything so stupid.’

‘Stupid? What’s stupid about it? People do it all the time.’ He waved his hand to indicate the sailing library, strewn in a deep circle around his chair.

‘Well, maybe. But not with babies. That’s ridiculous!’ ‘No, there are people with babies doing it. You must read this one.’ He rummaged for a few seconds in the piles and handed me a volume. ‘Cruise of the Teddy,’

I read. ‘Alright. I’ll read it.’

Colin came to dinner the next evening and, over the ubiquitous curry – the only dish any of us knew how to cook with any degree of success – Rod told him his plan.

‘I’ve got this idea, Col. Let’s find a boat and sail back to England. We could wander about the Indian Ocean for a while and sail leisurely back through the Red Sea and Mediterranean. Think of all the countries we could see. It’ll be

It would be an incredible voyage of discovery. A quest into the unknown

Di Beach met Rod Pickering when fleeing a holiday job in Alderney. Aged 19 she sued her parents for her freedom to travel to Uganda and marry him. When they returned to England in 1970 they had two daughters and Di had learned to cook. Today she owns a remote hotel in Andaluc’a.

far more exciting than going by air. What do you think, Col? Want to join us? We’ll have a wonderful time. ’Member how great it was on Peggy. And then we could use the boat to get to our next assignment – maybe in the West Indies!’

‘It sounds like a bloody amazing idea. A timely antidote to all the nonsense in this place.’ He was referring to the situation in their office where the politics had become intolerable. ‘And we could get David out too. He’d love it and he’s finished college now.’

‘Maybe he’s settling down and doesn’t want to.’

‘Di, you obviously don’t know David very well! He may look like a tame pussy cat but he won’t settle down – not yet anyway. He feels the same as us about experiencing alternative ways of living. He’s serious about his profession too and nothing is better for an architect than seeing how other people solve the same problems.’

‘Let’s cable him tomorrow. See what he says,’ ‘Colin! I don’t believe it.’ I stood up, my hands on my hips. ‘I expected you at least to be sane about this. Tell Rod he’s crazy to take a baby to sea!’

‘I don’t see what’s crazy about it. Rod knows what he’s doing even if the rest of us don’t. And with a good boat – not a Peggy, but something bigger and meant for the ocean. What’s crazy? And presumably babies are as strong as people, aren’t they?’ ‘I’ve got an idea, Di,’ said Rod, standing up and reaching for my hand. ‘Let’s ask Harry. If he says it’s okay will you say yes?’ Harry was a physician friend who had children and was an accomplished sailor. ‘I know he’ll be on my side.’ ‘I didn’t know there were sides here. Don’t be such a softy, Di. Where’s the adventurous girl I married?’ ‘I’m still here. But so’s Jojo!’

So we went to visit Harry who, rather than expressing the horror I anticipated, was enthusiastic about the idea. ‘Jojo is as healthy a child as I’ve ever seen. With proper precautions you can provide for most medical eventualities. I think the voyage is a stupendous notion. And I wish I could come with you.’ His wife glowered at him. Rod, Di, Colin, David and Jojo left Kampala to live for a year on the Islamic island of Lamu where they built the 42’ engineless, boomless gaff cutter Mjojo. They travelled to the Seychelles, Durban, St Helena, Rio de Janeiro and the Azores, before reaching England five years later.