Hey Blog! It’s the beginning of the year (well, a little later than I planned – resolution no. 1, must get organised, is not fully working yet!), so I think I’ll give you a post on what I’m anticipating and looking forward to in this new year of 2026!

In October, specifically on the 14^th, it will be five years since I started Home Ed in a Shed. The blog began as a diary of home education and my other activities, and was begun to coincide with the start of “secondary” education. This period will be ending on the 26^th of June, and I am considering resolving the weekly (or, more recently, sporadic) posts at this point. Therefore, I plan to make this term count!

Top things on my list of this year – EXAMS. A bit like marmite, for most people – for me, both sides in one. I both love them and hate them, or rather, hate the amount of time and effort that needs to go into studying for them, especially the essays. You’d think that writing the blog has helped me get better at essays – it has in some ways, but not in the way the examiners want. And I can’t write as fast as I can type – let alone think – making it hard for my brain to keep to one cohesive line of thought. However, in recent days I have seen a marked improvement in my English essay writing, so I’m hopeful it will be at top form by the time of the exams. And yes, I am taking six separate subjects, which is more than double that in exams and therefore trips to Birmingham for the exam centre. The only problem with this is I will be too old for the free Premier Inn breakfasts by this time, so what I’m going to do when we stay overnight there I don’t know!

Other activities: Sailing week in April, the same one as I’ve been on before but this time I have Competent Crew so will be able to take on some more tasks. Should be fantastic, but…

Immediately afterwards (and I mean on the same day – off the boat at lunchtime and get straight on a train to arrive in time for the evening) is my Silver DofE practice expedition, in advance of the qualifying expedition in August! There are eight of us going in two groups (because it’s maximum five in a group), so for some reason we decided to be the Fellowship of the Ring and walk to Mordor for our expedition challenge. Mad, I know.

The usual Scouting, archaeology, wildlife, history, etc.

After the exams – this is like saying “after you’ve escaped the labyrinth,” as at the moment I can’t see even one week ahead, let alone after I’ve got through. And the minotaur (read: exams themselves) is waiting at the entrance. But, if we follow this storyline, there are a whole load of other monsters waiting after I’ve come out, which would equate to the choices due to be made once I have a little bit more time. Particularly on my future.

Interlude here: I have noticed, there is all sorts of advice and support for people going through every difficult time in one’s life, except the one I’m at right now. There are prenatal groups, and postnatal groups, and people at the hospital to help with having a baby; there are marriage counselling and divorce counselling, and relationship advice everywhere you look online, even if you don’t look; there are people to help you choose your job/pressure you into accepting their offers of a job, there are people to persuade you to leave your job and give you support in financial difficulties; there are mid-life crisis centres and later-life crisis centres and near-death experiences to help with when you are actually more likely to die; the only thing there doesn’t seem to be any advice on is what to do when you’ve finished standard education and have no clue what to do next. You think a job is probably a good idea, learning more about the world is essential, friendships are more vital than anything (predominantly to stop you from going insane), but you want to relax and not need to do anything for a bit and perhaps devote yourself to deciding your future in a calmer manner. Oh, and you need to pay for staying alive, your parents, while they love you very much, also want to get you out of the house so they can have some peace for the first time in the better part of two decades, and you have no clue what to start doing. Let’s call it a young-life crisis. That is an accurate depiction of what is going on in my head, veiled behind any other thoughts, but there constantly this year.

Right, rant over. The decision I need to make is, quite simply, whether I should start looking for some kind of apprenticeship immediately, or go for my version of a gap year, and doing my own version of community voluntary service, taking some longer holidays, doing some volunteering, maybe getting a few contacts in my fields of interest, getting some more experience, exercise, expeditions, expect expedient explosive exploration but ideally not expiring. Gosh, what a lot of alliteration. This year of other learning would, I hope, provide some information to use in my future. The question remains, how to fund this – especially when I need to raise several thousand for the Jamboree – and what can I do in the local area – as, again, to remain on the list for the unit, I have to remain resident in Derbyshire. So, I have a choice to make.

I hope I make the right decision, and in time. Apparently, you only regret the things you didn’t do. So I’m off to do some things now. See you all soon.

Hey Blog! Today I’ll tell you about that classic winter activity, common in any country where the rivers and lakes actually get cold and freeze (oh wait, not this one then. Annoying global warming!) – ice skating!

Like the best traditions, skating is well-tested, and has been used as a mode of transport since the ice age. Reindeer shin bones have been found bearing the unmistakeable scratches and attachments for being worn on the feet and skated with. Over the last millennium, metal skates have quickly come into fashion and are now found across the world in all the ice rinks in every major city. But apart from providing a tremendous opportunity to fall over if unpractised, and an incredibly cool way of moving about on a surface that doesn’t often form in this country, what is it that ice skating does?

Science alert! Skating is a bit like going on a hovercraft. Both involve moving fast over a denser surface supported on a small cushion of a less dense material. The skating version relies on the ice being compressed by your weight over a very small area. These formulae: pressure = force divided by area; weight = mass times gravitational field strength; and pressure = gravitational field strength times height times density, give the reason for this.

Weight, which is a force, is always the same on an ice rink, as neither mass nor the strength of gravity change. Therefore your force is the same. Decrease the area your force affects (by making the edge of the skate as thin as possible) while keeping the force, your weight, the same, gives an increased pressure exerted. The final formula therefore calculates the density of the water. Increasing the pressure while keeping gravity and height the same, increases the density. Ice is less dense than water – that’s why the ice in your drink floats and why the Titanic was able to crash into an iceberg and sink – so the denser ice becomes water. Hence you have a thin cushion of water on top of ice (which instantly freezes when you release your weight) which is what you float on. So yes, when you are ice skating, you are walking, well, skating, on water!

Skating is also fast for this reason. Hovercraft are able to go much faster than conventional boats because there is less friction between air and boat than between water and boat. Similarly, there is less friction between water and skate than between ice and skate. Because of this, skating is by far the fastest method to go over ice (unless you happen to have a specially trained pack of huskies and a dogsled. Surely someone has to have such a thing stashed in their shed?). Indeed, one person I saw on the rink this year was sliding from one end to the other in about five seconds – which is much faster than I could do walking. Therefore it is not just a way of keeping your footing, but also of going at greater speed.

The first time I realised the allure of skating was when I read the fourth book of the Swallows and Amazons series, Winter Holiday. After learning that sailors could become skaters and explore frozen lakes, I waited in hopeful anticipation of a proper winter. Proper winters, it turns out, do not come. So I remain bound to the ice rink until I ever go to a more meteorologically interesting country, like Canada or Iceland. However, at that point I had not been on an ice rink since I was six, and was outside the Natural History Museum in London, on a visit to the UK. With tiny feet in tiny skates, a stabilising plastic penguin that was about as big as I was, and a firm hold on the handrail, I managed to go around the rink a few times. I didn’t try again till last year.

Each year, the Explorer troop I am part of goes on a few Christmas activities. One of these is usually skating. The past two years we have been to the local ice rink, and skated with varying degrees of success. I started a bit unsteady, but slowly managed to grasp the technique. To my mind, it’s more like walking backwards flat-footed yet going forwards than anything else. The effort isn’t going into pushing your toes to go forward, it’s in stopping your heels sliding too far and falling over. Hardest, I have found, is stopping. You need to be keeping going on one foot, while dragging the other sideways, to stop quickly – therefore I find it easier to just stop propelling myself and drift, which takes longer but stops you the same way. However, I would consider myself in need of practice but understanding of the basics. Maybe I’ll try again soon!

Hey Blog! This time I’ll relate an event I went to a few weeks ago and one which has given me a lot of ideas about my future!

The Creative Careers day at Derby Museum of Making was excellent. There were eight makers attending, and while we had about an hour and a half, it was impossible to go round them all. I’d need a lifetime to study each of their crafts, so the time we had was only adequate to scratch the surface of a few of them. The first maker I met was the blacksmith.

Blacksmithing is an ancient art. Smiths were highly valued throughout history, and while there is now less demand for high-quality, hand-crafted ironworking as there was in the past, there are still plenty of people pursuing this trade. The blacksmith we met, Jack, started as an apprentice quite near where I live now, and is now taking commissions from across the country, besides honing his skills and managing family life. He’s also really supportive of other people who are even considering it as a future activity, and has encouraged me to build a forge in my garden. Sorry Mum, the veg bed in the lawn may have to go!

Not only that, but he has an awesome collection of hammers and other tools. One of the most interesting things I learned was the idea of patterns on the heads of hammers, which are used to make patterns in the steel that would be very hard to get otherwise. Another interesting thing was the idea of different traditions of metalworking: when you think “forge” you probably imagine a stone box with a roaring blaze inside, and a large man at a regular shaped anvil of the kind that is perfect to drop on roadrunner’s head, possibly or possibly not working on a large, glowing blade. In other traditions, the forge is more like a pit filled with wood/charcoal and the anvil has a completely different shape. Perhaps the most comforting thing out of our conversation was understanding that you don’t need to decide your future when you’re only 15, you can still work things out as you go along. (And yes, I have been told this before, but I never take it on board, so maybe this time I will be able to accept it.)

Next, we went nextdoor to woodworking. I know about wood, and have extensively recounted my turning exploits before. However, it has been ages since I tried planing. This technique relies on sliding the plane, (a mounted blade that removes tiny flat shavings from the wood) across the plank/other wooden item, to smooth and flatten it. We have got one (and Dad used it the other day, strange coincidence) but I had forgotten and not seen it in years. Therefore I was very eager to learn more about how to do it, and I’m glad to say it went well. Yet another ability in my arsenal which I can practise – and who knows how it might come in handy with my woodworking!

Time was fast running out. We realised we would be unable to make it to the milliners or the potters, but we did just have time to visit the lacemaking table. This is a very fine art – and all the finer for the fineness of the threads it uses! Also interesting are the bobbins, the specialist dowels used to hold the thread and flip them across the pattern to make the lace. Many are fantastically decorated, hand-turned and painted with incredible detail. Maybe I have another outlet for my turning – apparently the practice at making bobbins can increase one’s skill a great deal.

I’m sad we didn’t get to go round all the makers and learn all about it. Yes, you would need a full lifetime to learn each craft, another lifetime to perfect it, and that’s beside any other learning you do. However, next year there will be another opportunity and I hope to take it then, to see some more creative careers and maybe choose the one I’ll start with in my journey through making.

Hey Blog! Today’s post will be about a fantastic opportunity offered to me and one which I will hopefully have a great deal more to tell you about in the future!

I realise, if I relate the details first, you will instantly guess. So, to have the joy of telling you, here it is: I have been chosen to be part of the Derbyshire contingent on the 2027 World Scout Jamboree in Poland!

The first information I had of this opening was back in the summer, when there was news of a selection day for the big event. I was very much in two minds, but decided that it was only a selection day, I had never done one before, and why not?, so I signed up and went.

It was a bit weird, just 50-or-so Scouts and Explorers in a room, playing games and testing activities, going outside to build marble runs and do a ‘minesweeper’ challenge, all while being watched by the leaders to decide who should go. There were only 36 places… and nearly a hundred applicants attended over two selection days. Only one in three could go. I was not expecting a place, nor even sure that I wanted to go – I am already terribly busy and have had similar experiences in the past, though not of this scale, overseas, or with Scouting. Besides, I was expecting them to give the place to another one of the hundred.

The selection was an interesting experience, because I felt everyone there was equally deserving and some more so than me, which is something I have not often felt. Nevertheless, I was glad I had attended, and then did not think much of it, until an email came to say I had been offered a place!

As I said, this was unexpected and I was completely at a loss what to do. At first, I didn’t know what to say, and then kept changing my mind constantly. Even till five minutes before I replied “yes” (well, more like 5 seconds!) I was unsure whether or not to accept. Eventually, I realised that this was just too good to miss, and if I were to turn it down I would regret it. Maybe I will still regret it, but it’s less likely. And even if I do protest about the amount of effort I need to raise the money to go, it’s unlikely to be in earnest.

Because the price is considerable. Paid in instalments, the first one is £500 – the parents’ deposit, if you will – and then each participant, on their own, needs to raise about £3000 over a year and a half. I have never earned £1000 in six months – the most I’ve ever made is a bit more than £200 – and while I won’t discuss the current finances of my wallet, purse, small leather bag containing solely 1ps under the bed and large plastic tub which holds the proceeds of my woodturning sales, I definitely do not have this much.

Therefore, I have been busy woodturning in the garage, and have over 30 mice in production, besides varying my stock with this year’s Christmas special – Christmas trees! They will be on sale at the local festive fair at the end of the month, so make sure to get there early while stocks last! Commissions also accepted, though they may take longer. Do come, the money will be going towards my jamboree fund and I will definitely be telling you more about this awesome opportunity over the next two years!

Hey Blog! This post is about one of the greatest composers in history, and one whose music I rather enjoy. This is about Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Mozart was born in 1756, so his music is quite old. A bit more than 200 years old. And he died in 1791, so he was only in his mid-thirties when he died. What makes him incredible is the fact that for thirty of those years, he was composing music. Yes, he started at age 5 – and while that is only three years younger than I started learning piano, by the time he was fifteen he had already written multiple symphonies, operas, toured Europe and performed for a large portion of nobility on the continent. I, however, have done none of these.

Mozart is one of the most well-known composers as well. He wrote in the classical style, which comes after the baroque period and before the romantic period. Baroque has short notes and slightly sharper pitch, mostly consisting of straight harmonies; romantic has longer, more spreading and richer notes, usually layered over each other. Mozart, as a classical composer, has lots of fast-flowing notes but also some longer ones, and his harmonies are excellent. I am currently learning one of his pieces (Sonata, movement 1, K.547a) and the majority of it is fast, clear passages, but there is a section of awesome harmony and lots of accidentals!

Which brings me on to why I like Mozart’s music. Firstly: it gives my fingers a challenge! I can play very fast – apparently faster than my piano teacher – and most music does not contain the speed and multitude of notes that Mozart gives me. Secondly: it is complex in theory but a delight to play. This is good, as it means I can learn it without too much trouble but if I wish I can go into a lot more detail learning the chords and how the keys work together. It is bright, fresh, and dancing, and seems as present now as it was in the 1700s. While I appreciate a great variety of composers, Mozart is one of my favourites. (I never have a favourite, but Mozart comes close!)

My piano is going well. I’m even starting to compose myself. Maybe you’ll be hearing about my music one day!

P.s. “It’s Mozart!” is an in-joke with some friends. We were doing a quiz and someone mentioned that if there is ever a question on music, Mozart is almost always the answer as he did pretty much everything. So next time someone asks you a question in the pub quiz music round, try going for Mozart. You will have a higher-than-average chance of being right!

Hey Blog! Recently, I have been doing a lot of studies, and so I have some more English to share with you. This is for two reasons: firstly because the prompt was to write a dialogue between a character called Kaito and his grandmother about taking a selfie, while my own grandparents are coming to see us soon; and secondly because Mum annotated at the end of it, “That’s brilliant! I hope you get that writing prompt in the exam!” which suggests what I did was good. I hope you like it too.

“No, Grandma, you tap this button here, see? This one reverses the way the photo’s pointing; it takes one of you, not the door!” Kaito said. “There, and… snap, picture taken!”

His grandmother was getting a little flustered. “Deary me, they never used to be so complicated. This one here, you said, darling?” she asked, pressing the button.

A pair of virtual reindeer horns appeared on Kaito’s grandmother’s head on the phone screen. “Ahhh! What is it?” she shrieked, a hand patting her head to try and feel the horns. “What did it do?”

“Grandma, that’s the setting which alters your filters. There are hundreds. You could grow a beard… or wear a fancy hat. Once you’ve taken a selfie, you can edit it. I’ll show you where you can find them on your own phone.” Kaito was eager to help. “Where is it?”

“I don’t use it much, love. It’s in that drawer on the sideboard,” Grandma said. “There, in the case with flowers on.”

“I can’t see a phone, Grandma. All you’ve got is this,” Kaito said, pulling out a Nokia brick. “How long have you had this? It looks like the dinosaurs used it.”

“That’s the phone, duck. A bit old these days, but a great comfort when your grandfather was away. I could text him every day on that.” Kaito’s grandmother was evidently surprised by Kaito’s reaction, for she said, “What’s the matter dear? I thought you knew how to work phones?”

“This… isn’t a phone, Grandma,” answered Kaito. “I’m not sure what it is, but there’s no camera on here. It doesn’t even have a search function, no internet whatsoever. All there is are a few funny numbers.”

“Those will be my passcodes, dear. The rest of the Secret Service still used paper, but I was one of the very first who had it digital.” Kaito’s grandmother seemed immensely proud. “We’d soon live in a Digital World, they said. And I was a pioneer! To think of it. But have you got the photo Apple-cation or what you said working?”

“You were in the Secret Service, Grandma?!” Kaito exclaimed. “When?”

“Not was, dear, but am. They’ve never dismissed me yet,” Kaito’s grandmother continued. “In fact, they sent a message a few days ago. Wanted me to learn how to take a selfie. Photo evidence, you see. Good way of staying undercover, yet getting the tabs on those you want to watch.” Grandma sighed. “Shall we get on with it then, dear?”

N.B. relation to Kaitos, Grandmas, and the Secret Service completely coincidental. No fictional characters in this piece are based on real people, least of all my own grandmother!

Hey Blog! This week, I thought I would start reviewing some of the books needed for my English Literature GCSE next year. There will be a series of these, but this is the first instalment – and covers a book by Robert Louis Stevenson, which has since become widely known in popular culture: The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

I only read the book for the first time this week. However, I had already been aware of the author. Only a few weeks ago, I mentioned Treasure Island, another of his books, and I have also read his A Child’s Garden of Verses. Unrelated to the inventor of the steam engine (though many, including me, have made that mistake!) Stevenson had a difficult childhood and so took to novels as a way to get out of reality. I sometimes most of the time do something similar. But while Treasure Island is a tale of adventure, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde is more of a crime drama-cross-science fiction – even though it would be some years before the latter genre took off with H. G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds. 

The plot opens with the introduction of Utterson, a lawyer and the principal protagonist. It also begins an anecdote of an encounter with one Mr. Edward Hyde, delivered from Utterson’s friend Enfield. Quickly, the story moves to a dark crime drama of a will, a murder, and a hunt for suspects in the back streets of London. However, still darker turns are yet to come, as Henry Jekyll’s personality shifts and Edward Hyde’s appearances grow

The novel popularised the idea of the split personality, and is a part of the wider gothic style, popular in the 1800s. It was seen as a cheap “shilling shocker”, a quickly written short read at the time, but has since had a large impact. The idea of a villain who can transform, shifting from the outwardly respectable figure on the side of good, to the sinister figure of darkness who scares the living daylights out of the protagonist – and anyone watching the movie or reading the book – has since been seen in almost every genre and type of plotline. It certainly makes for a good story.

And talking of darkness and light, that is another of the central themes of the story. The amount of times those words, or synonyms for good and evil, are mentioned highlights the dual-natured personality of Jekyll and Hyde. It hints at the war within the character, and between the characters. Intertwined in this good-v-bad is a science-v-religion conflict, where the philosophical beliefs of consciousness are tampered with by the technical application of chemistry and biology. The dedication, too, includes a note on this – “it’s ill to loose the bands that God decreed to bind”. All this was very in keeping with the burgeoning scientific advances and ethical questions being raised at the time.

The duality of human nature – or triality, or even more, as Henry Jekyll states at the end – is one of the other focuses of the novel. The other side of this is a social respectability facet. Even Mr. Hyde, alone among all people in being solely bad, wants to avoid pariah status, showing a complex idea of what it is to be evil. The secret lives of all the characters make the story a twisty one, which, while knowing Hyde is the villain, leaves everyone guessing who Hyde is. Although, if you just look at the title, you know immediately. Should have just done that first.

I think, in all, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is an interesting and excellent read. I certainly find Stevenson easier to understand than Dickens, who was writing about the same time. For content, I think it is an amazing and original exploration of sci-fi, body-changing, dark crime, and horror, all with a fairly confidant tone: perfect for a 1800s short novel, ideal to be adapted and adopted over the next century. I will continue to study it and it is a firm possibility for the exam next year!

Hey Blog! A few weeks back I went out to do some surveying and evaluation of archaeology which could help in a project I am helping in in the future!

Remember in February I spoke at an event in London on behalf of Derbyshire Scout Archaeology? I somehow managed to impress one of the people from Heritage England who had been invited to come and see what the youth groups had done, and he gave me an opportunity to help coach the Police Cadets through a heritage project, as a joint attempt between Scouts and Cadets. As part of the plan, I would be assisting Cadets to photograph and record monuments and provide local, anecdotal evidence and backstory to these historical remains. This would be added to a record, the National Heritage List for England, or NHLE. The planning is well under way, so this may make an appearance on HEIAS soon. However, as practice for the surveying, I was invited by some members of the DSA team to help record archaeological features on the National Trust grounds at Thorpe, near Ilam, in the Peak District.

I used to go to the hall at Ilam for Young Archaeologists’ Club, but as our base moved during covid I am now unfamiliar with the area. The surrounding land, Thorpe Pasture, has a plethora of features ranging in date from Romano-British settlement (unexcavated and uncertain, but very likely) to mediaeval ridge-and-furrow ploughing, to modern rifle range and targets. These are all recorded on a database, and require regular checking to determine whether they are in a poor state or state of decay. This work is all voluntary, and since it might help me with the recording of the built heritage for the Heritage England project, I was invited to join a trip to re-check their condition and practice identifying features. We left early in the morning.

Driving to the area and walking onto the pasture, it was immediately obvious that there would be a lot of historical remains. Everywhere we looked, there were “features” – the general term for a lump, bump, hole, stone, or other remain of a previously man-used/made object/multiple objects. Or, as Wikipedia says, “a collection of one or more contexts representing some human non-portable activity”. The first feature we recorded was an old quarry. This is one of the peculiar things you sometimes see in the Peak District, small-scale quarries, maybe large enough to supply the stone for one or two houses. Nowadays, because of our greater capacity for transport and ability to quarry with heavy machinery which can make larger holes and stays in one place, we have more commercial quarries, but in the past, it made a lot more sense to only move the stone for your house a few hundred metres at most. Photographing from different angles, and recording the directions each photograph was taken in (cardinal directions, this helps locate the feature later and records what it looks like to check its preservation), we then proceeded to the next few things to check on the list.

We couldn’t check the shooting butts, because they were in use on the day we were there – a nice example of something that was used historically still being used today. That is one of the things you don’t get with most castles, and always a nice thing to come across – history still living, in the present day. In this case, it was not particularly helpful, as it restricted us to the other side of the valley and only a part of the hill beyond. However, there was not as much archaeology in the cautioned-off area for the shooting, so we still managed a good deal of recording. We checked an old sheepfold, some mining/quarrying remains (hard to tell, it’s an area with both), searched in vain for some ridge-and-furrow (though we could see some very evident on the other hillside), checked a dewpond, some more mining evidence, and then came to the highlight of the day for me – a (suspected) Romano-British earthen bank along the side of a little valley. It is a very clear feature – a great stone-built earth bank, running horizontally about halfway up the hill, which would have made an important statement when it was first constructed. There seems to be another one, running perpendicular to it across the bottom of the valley. It is intersected by a (probably) mediaeval holloway, a trackway that has been worn away to a sunken road by years of use. This, by the Law of Superposition, means the bank predates the trackway, so a Roman date is likely.

(The Law of Superposition is an archaeological rule that states what is below or intersected by something else is earlier than the other something, and therefore that other something is later than the thing it overlays or cuts into. If you think about it, this makes sense – but it took this pointing out before I realised the reason behind it!)

We had lunch, then climbed the opposite hill and looked around for the settlement evidence. However, by this time, it was threatening rain, we were all tired, and we didn’t want to risk coming into the line of fire from the rifle range. It does not make a good end for an archaeologist to be shot by accident with a rifle, even if Indianna Jones has been able to repeatedly be nearly shot intentionally and survived. As a result, we walked down the hill and back to the car, planning when to come next time so we could check out the bits of heritage that had been out of reach. I found it helpful, not so much for the actual features we examined there, nor the particular way of recording, but what was, was the practice at recording and seeing more examples of historical remains, all of which go into a sort of database in my head. I now consider myself ready to plan and lead a session for the police cadets, or the Explorers – who have now asked me to lead a session – so I’d better go and plan for that one quick!

Hey Blog! Sorry about the lack of posts for the past month, that’s because I’ve been away!

Last year in April I told how I’d been on a sail training voyage. I ended by saying I wanted to go back and do some more. Now, I have!

Please see the posts on last year’s voyage for some more information about The Island Trust, and the boat I was on – the gaff topsail schooner Johanna Lucretia (JL) – and sailing! Much of what we did then was repeated this time, so I’ll tell you mostly what was different.

The first voyage, last year, was a regular voyage. This one was special in two ways – firstly, it was a home-ed only voyage and secondly it was an ocean discoverability voyage. We were not aware of the latter until we arrived to embark, and at first I was concerned it might interfere with the sailing part of the voyage, but upon checking the forecast and seeing storms I realized it was good to have something other than sailing to keep us busy when the weather got too dangerous. Indeed, it got so bad on the Wednesday we couldn’t go out at all, and had to stay in port. However, it was mitigated by the chance to have an ice cream ashore!

The storms were most annoying. I was expecting a long sail where I would get lots of experience and overcome the persisting nervousness I had last voyage. I seem to be a bad weather talisman, or else too many people were whistling aboard ship! (This is a sailor’s superstition that whistling brings wind; if you whistle too much, you get too much of a good thing.) The surprising thing was the nervousness was mostly gone, but instead I felt a bit seasick some of the days. Thankfully I had packed the motion sickness tablets and they worked, albeit at the cost of feeling disconnected, as if I was drunk. I expect it is because both the tablets and alcohol jinx the nerves that connect the balancing mechanism in the ear to the brain. No wonder all pirates drank rum – being drunk must give you a better chance of not actually being seasick, so long as you don’t drink too much! It’s a pity nothing stronger than squash is allowed on board, especially as it was someone’s 18^th birthday halfway through the week, but perhaps it’s better to sail with a crew who are in possession of all their faculties!

Talking of crew, there were 16 hands on board. Four were staff, officers, employees, teachers, skippers, mates and ocean discoverability experts – i.e. the official people who know what they’re doing; the ones who show us the ropes – literally in some cases! The remaining twelve were trainees, aged 13 to 18, and with experience varying from never sailing anything larger than a dinghy, and that only little, all the way to experienced sailors who had practiced going as staff on other voyages! As I said last year, the best way to make friends is to throw a bunch of people together on a boat for six days and keep them there while sailing around. It works. If you don’t believe me, just look up The Island Trust and sign on to a voyage to try it. Actually, don’t everyone do that – places are limited, and I want a space!

The itinerary was the same as last year’s, and the general tasks were the same. The differences were the Ocean Discoverability sessions and the places we went sailing. Among the former were learning about seaweed, and the different levels in the sea they are found; lowering a camera over the side of the ship to see the wildlife down there (we didn’t see much – a couple of crabs and some common dog whelks!) and a trip to the aquarium – a trade-off for when it’s too windy to go sailing! I had never been to an aquarium, so the whole experience was new, interesting, and showed a lot of aquatic creatures, but, like I find with many exhibits, I take a lot longer to go round and look at everything than most people who just pass through, looking quickly. Also, the star exhibit, the sea turtle, was the same species as I have swum with when we lived in the Caribbean, brushed up against in its natural habitat, so just made me reminisce about Barbados and how the weather was probably better there! To me, the most interesting bits were reading about all the science, as well as looking at some of the less-observed creatures, the small things you don’t see from land or the side of a boat.

Talking of things you see from the side of a boat, the wildlife highlight of the trip was about a minute of dolphins crossing the boat! We were on a beam reach – where the boat is heading perpendicular to the wind, and the beam, the side of the ship, is closest to the wind – and the dolphins were suddenly there, small black fins arcing out and then back in a little further off, and just a shape and a colour underwater near the boat. I’m sure they went straight underneath, and they must have been going pretty fast, as we were going the fastest I’ve ever gone in a sailing vessel – 7 knots! This was because we weren’t trying to fight the waves or wind, we were sailing along both of them, so JL was moving beautifully, without too much rocking, and very fast!

A note here about knots. They are the nautical measure of speed, one nautical mile per hour. You may think they are the domain of Tresure Island and suchlike, along with fathoms (6ft.) and pieces-of-eight. Knots, however, are still used, as are nautical miles: 1 nautical mile = about 0.87 land miles. The speed unit of knots is due to the old days when to tell you how fast you were sailing, you threw a log tied to a piece of string with knots in it over the side, and counted how many knots went through your fingers in a period of time to tell how fast you were going – this was known as streaming the log. Of course, wind or tide could move the log away from the point you threw it in, messing up the results, so dead reckoning (read: guesswork with practice) was the standard use. It’s much easier to use GPS, and not crash into things.

And talking of knots, I am somewhat of an expert. I know all the 8 knots expected for Competent Crew, the recognised qualification for general sailing ability, and could tie them asleep almost. I also know a few more that are not on the list. But the 8^th knot of the list was one I have had incredible bother with, the rolling hitch. I will never forget it now, however – we had a knotting session on board, where it was explained the way to remember is to think of it as the round turn of a round turn and two half hitches, and the second turn of a clove hitch! This just reinforces my view that there are only a few knots which are unique, as the others are just combinations of the basic variations. I was able to help a few people learn some of the Competent Crew knots, and generally worked very well with ropes all the time there. One of the staff even said they would welcome me back, as I could be given a task and then do it perfectly. I expect my parents would be grateful if I could do that at home.

I really want to go back. It’s one of the best experiences ever. When one of the other trainees said they were moving to Plymouth so would probably be going sailing on JL all the time, my thought was ‘lucky sod’. I would love to be able to be out on the water all the time, as I feel a connection to it which I miss, living as I do about as central to England and as far from the sea as it is possible to be in this country. I wish I could do more sailing, perhaps some of the races that the company enters their ships in, and if not, just mile-building. Since this voyage I was finally able to get the Competent Crew qualification, I am now able to sail some more interesting voyages as I work for Watch Leader and maybe eventually Day Skipper. My sister’s husband has now earned not just Day Skipper but Costal Skipper, which is only one stage below Yachtmaster, the top three qualifications the RYA offers. And with the news The Island Trust offers adult voyages concurrently with youth voyages, we are planning a joint sailing week some time next year. Fingers crossed!

Hey Blog! To return to the note my lovely, helpful and rather brilliant editor made in my last post, I am indeed going to tell you about the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award and what I’ve been doing to get my Bronze qualification!

The first time I heard about DofE is a little stuck in my memory, even if the details are not certain. The family and I were in the car on the way for a walk somewhere and we noticed some older kids with big rucksacks and someone remarked that was probably for DofE. I only really concentrated on it when I progressed from Scouts and became aware that Explorers offers a DofE program, as 14 is the first age from which you can start it; and the three top awards in Explorers (Platinum, Diamond and King’s Scout) run concurrently to the Duke of Edinburgh’s Awards (Bronze, Silver and Gold). However, at 14 I felt I had enough to be getting on with for the time and decided to wait for about six months before starting. While initially completely unsure of what I wanted to do for the three sections apart from the expedition, I was able to come to a decision to choose Young Leading with the Beavers for Volunteering (which I was already doing anyway – you’ve heard a lot about it and I probably don’t need to tell you much more); Cricket for Physical (which I was still deliberating about continuing, but decided to go for it, loved it, and am certain I will next year – once again, I’ve told you about this so I can pass it over), and Baking for Skills. Let’s start with that.

You can see now that this is a join-the-dots of my work so far. Baking, something I was planning to learn (along with cooking – maybe that will be for Silver) was the only thing I needed to do above and beyond what I already knew. I know how to make shortbread by heart – the only thing I already do know from memory – but decided I want to make an afternoon tea. I must have been mad. But then, so far, it’s going well.

I have made several varieties of biscuit, maybe needing one more batch to round it off; I have further practiced four different cakes – chocolate, banana, Victoria sponge and lemon drizzle – the last two have been particularly delicious and are contenders for the tea party I plan to bake for next week. I have made two batches of scones, one with fruit and one without, because I forgot to put it in – they will definitely be on the table. I have tried flapjacks, which went down very well on the expedition; muffins, with After-8s on the top at a friend’s suggestion, which are delicious; and I need another practice at bread and that will be it – so I know what I have left to do now!

Back to the expedition. Because I have done lots of walking, am accustomed to carrying heavy backpacks, have practiced with a camping stove, and can keep going while traveling very fast, I had no issue with the expedition – in fact, it was probably the easiest part for me. My biggest boggle was the packing: in advance, when I had to work out what would be needed, how often, and when, and try to pack accordingly, and on the expedition, where I had to unpack and repack what I used overnight, which messed it up a bit. The only other problem was with food. Though I am quite slim, I usually eat quite a lot, and the recommended “twice what you normally eat” would leave the rucksack unable to carry anything else. While dry food would take up less space, it still constituted much of the bag, though this rapidly decreased as I ate over the week. However, due to a convenient packing system of zip lock bags from the supermarket, designed by Mum, I was able to compartmentalise my food for the week into daily ration packs. This was certainly a great help.

The expedition I signed up to was a back-to-back expedition, consisting of a practice walk for two days and the actual, qualifying expedition for the second two days. Seems I should have just skipped to Gold DofE standard – I was there just as long, and the extra walking wouldn’t have been too much harder. The preparatory days gave participants a chance to get to know each other first, and so be ready to walk together on the last two days – besides having the chance to practice navigation, camp cooking, and not irritating the others to death – all of which I had zero problems with. Checking we had everything we needed and knew what on earth we were doing on day 1, we then went for a short walk to demonstrate our map skills on day 2. Starting near Hathersage on day 3, the groups walked to Pindale, before returning on day 4. It was really good – the walking was straightforward, if fast-paced and over reasonably bumpy terrain, the cooking was as good as camp food can be (I must remember to get one of those stoves!) and the people were friendly and worked successfully as a team. Now, I need to go and bake some more cakes and get ready for working on something for Silver DofE!