The DCA Safety Recommendations state that capsizing whilst cruising is 'not an acceptable proposition'. I concur with that, and will do everything possible to avoid it. Nevertheless I knew that I ought to capsize under controlled conditions to see what would happen. How high would Lowly float? Would the boat invert? Could I right it easily? I felt uneasy that I could not be sure of the answers to these questions - and perhaps to other problems I could not foresee. However the flesh being weak I kept putting off the trouble and messiness of doing a capsize drill, promising myself, I would 'do it soon'. Well Neptune got tired of empty promises and slapped me down, capsized me and let me off with a warning. I was lucky. Another time it could have been altogether more serious. As it was the capsize did me a great favour.

I had sailed in company with Roger Barnes' Baggywrinkle from Ilfracombe to Lundy and on to Clovelly in extreme conditions for dinghies. Later we beat through the tidal races off Bull Point and Hartland Point. On both of these days a capsize would have been very difficult to contend with. However the day in between was a lovely day for sailing. Roger had left Clovelly and set sail for Appledore. I returned to Clovelly to effect a repair and left half an hour later. The wind was force three, ideal for fast, safe, and enjoyable cruising. I was about two miles offshore with no other boat in sight. Lowly was making good progress, beating towards the entrance to Bideford Bar to catch the last of the flood into the River Torridge. I needed a drink, so I hove-to and picked up my water bottle. I was sitting on the side bench with my head tilted back taking a drink when gently, gracefully and silently the boat heeled over towards me and flooded with water. I could hardly believe it, the conditions were so mild and the action was so unexpected. I still don't know why it happened - possibly the mainsheet snagged, combining with my weight being on one side of the boat. In addition I was inattentive and 'blind' as I drank. I reached for the upper gunwale and rolled over the side, stood on the centreboard and Lowly rolled up as easily as he had rolled over. The whole incident had taken perhaps 60 seconds. However I was now standing in the boat with water above my knees. I lowered the sails.

My lack of experience of the boat in this condition now threw up some surprises. Several of the factors which afflicted me were not foreseen in attempts to envisage a capsize situation. Firstly, several pieces of kit were floating out of the boat. I was fully packed for cruising but had grown careless on this lovely day about properly closing down stowage. The water in the rear locker forced the containers inside to push to the surface forcing open the lid. The locking pins were not in place. I forced this shut again, not straightforward when things were trying to float out on all three sides. One or two things were being blown out of reach. I used a paddle to pull them back to the boat but I couldn't retrieve everything. I am now more careful about ensuring flaps are secure and things are stowed away - but at the time, on a fine gentle day, it seemed natural to have some things lying around e.g. water bottle, cushions, binoculars, sunglasses and hat. However the most interesting realisation then came. The boat was floating under the surface! The centreboard slot ought to be above the water level when swamped. Mine was six inches under and even the gunwales themselves were awash. How could I bail out? The water was across the boat. Again the fundamental mistake was in not having practised a capsize in controlled conditions. I would have discovered that the buoyancy was not fixed correctly. I had a large air bag secured under the front thwart that was properly effective. However I had two brand new and very large buoyancy bags which double as boat rollers at the stern. These are two metres long, go right down the port and starboard sides respectively and bend to meet under the centre of the rear thwart. There is enormous buoyancy in each of these. They were fastened at each end and secured by buckled straps around the thwarts. One of these was now well under water and lifting the starboard side. However the other had slipped out from under the seat and was redundant, being above the water and lifting nothing. When I fastened the bags I had not correctly anticipated the direction and force the sea would put on them. It was different to that required to house them when sailing upright. In the 60 seconds that the port side was fully submerged the bag was being forced upward. Upward in this position is towards the centreboard casing. I had only envisaged the swamped boat in the upright position, when upwards would have pressed the bag hard to the underside of the side bench giving the desired buoyancy. I have since strapped the bags down to the side planking of the hull as well as to the bench.

Efforts to push the bag into position were futile. It was like trying to submerge an airbed in a swimming pool. I could have deflated the bag, fixed it properly and then reflated it. However I was doing a "walking on water act" two miles out to sea. I could have jettisoned my 90lb of ballast, perhaps buoying it rather than lose expensive lead and vital equipment. That didn't appeal either. Thank goodness conditions were benign and I was able to think fairly calmly. All of my fenders and other buoyant equipment, like mattress, clothes, and sleeping bag, whilst secured to the boat within their waterproof bags were floating uselessly on the surface. So too were all my fenders and the flare canister. They should with hindsight have been doubling as huge reserve buoyancy cylinders to lift the hull. All of these items, plus four spare fenders I had at home, and two new giant fenders have since been securely fastened low down in the hull in such a way that they will give considerable added upward thrust in the event of a repeat capsize. On the positive side the hollow wooden masts and spars seemed to reinforce my belief that inversion in Lowly Worm is not likely.

I was still standing in a flooded boat. I then noticed that although the gunwale was submerged amidships the bow and stern were well clear of the surface, due to the strong sheer line. By moving well forward so that my weight brought the bow down almost to water level the amidships were raised half an inch above the surface, although the chop was of course slopping over. This all took less time than it takes me to type it. I then bailed hard for 5 minutes non-stop. It is said that "the most effective bailer is a frightened man with a bucket". I won't argue with that. I paused and saw that although water was still pouring up through the centreboard slot the boat had risen an inch above the water. Backside up, head down, I went at it like a dog at broth. When the slot was clear I eased up. Forty minutes later, the boat was empty, most gear rescued and I was paying away on a square search of the area to look for my binoculars and a Thermarest seat which were last seen floating happily away to the horizon. The lines of waves formed shadows so it was not easy to see any flotsam. However I found the binoculars floating in their neoprene case - the chair and a sun hat would have floated on or just under the surface and after half an hour had passed I gave up on them. The insurers paid up promptly and they have since been replaced.

Getting into Appledore against the tide was slow and I ended up towing the last half-mile in the shallows. Safely anchored I erected the tent. There was one last revelation. None of my ice-cream type stowage boxes was waterproof, neither the seal on my clothes sack. Neither the matches nor the flint lighter worked; so apart from a little soup left in the flask there was no comforting hot food. Fortunately my sleeping bag was perfectly dry and I was soon cosy and warm. I now carry several boxes of waterproof matches in different containers.

I learnt many lessons from the experience and have made many, generally quite simple alterations to equipment and procedures to make my sailing safer. I need to be better prepared for a capsize situation in really bad conditions. I am extremely grateful to Neptune for capsizing me when he did. I have a much greater confidence in the boat and the improvements to buoyancy. I know in my heart that I should now go and do another controlled capsize!

Notes:

• See Roger's article on the Lundy trip in the Winter 1999 Bulletin for an independent view of wind and sea conditions on these days.

• Most canoe shops stock a range of O-ringed containers, waterproof bags and other canoe kit highly suitable for dinghy cruising.