He's been called the most famous amateur sailor who ever put to sea in a small boat. It's 40 years this month since Donald Crowhurst set sail on Teignmouth Electron, one of nine men who set out to race each other round the world for the Golden Globe trophy in 1968. Only one made it back. Six retired, one sunk just 1,200 miles from the finish, while Crowhurst himself vanished forever in what Sir Francis Chichester called 'The sea drama of the century'.
The story of how his boat was found drifting in mid-Atlantic after 143 days and how his logbooks revealed a 'terrible truth' - that his voyage had been an elaborate hoax - has fascinated sailors ever since.
On page 30 we revisit the tragedy in a special in-depth feature and ask: 'Would Crowhurst have faced the same stigma of shame and failure in today's celebrity-driven society?' His son, Simon, thinks, not.
How many sailors can honestly say that they have never talked themselves into a cruise or a project without having doubts about a successful outcome? Isn't pushing ourselves beyond the limits of our capabilities part of what drives us to go to sea and makes us better sailors? How many of us can truthfully claim we have never exaggerated wind speed or wave height to embellish our adventures?
There's a bit of Crowhurst in all of us. 'People need to dream,' says his widow, Clare.
Donald Crowhurst was not the 'cheat' and 'liar' that some of the newspaper headlines of the time described. He was an ordinary man with a bold, brave dream that took him to his death.
After Ellen MacArthur's hi-tech, 71-day solo non-stop voyage in 2005, it's hard to imagine the total isolation of 1960s solo sailors in pre-satellite times. It was like being a prisoner in solitary confinement.
Brave or foolhardy, Crowhurst was a weekend sailor who finally lost his bearings on reality. As he wrote in a poignant last letter to his wife, found in his study after his disappearance: 'If a man turns down the one major challenge of his life, he can never be the same, especially when the challenge is of his devising! I'm going because I must…'
His is a moving story full of 'what ifs'. Crowhurst could have thrown all his logbooks overboard and no one would ever have known what happened. Instead, he left behind the truth of his deception so we can better understand human frailty.
He's been called the most famous amateur sailor who ever put to sea in a small boat. It's 40 years this month since Donald Crowhurst set sail on Teignmouth Electron, one of nine men who set out to race each other round the world for the Golden Globe trophy in 1968. Only one made it back. Six retired, one sunk just 1,200 miles from the finish, while Crowhurst himself vanished forever in what Sir Francis Chichester called 'The sea drama of the century'.
