Crew Allocation

Gavin our skipper and Zoe our first mate

OMay 17th was Crew Allocation Day, the moment we’d all been both anticipating and quietly dreading. It had the feel of school gym class, except instead of basketball teams, we were being assigned to sail around the world with strangers who might one day be responsible for our lives. Or at the very least, our coffee.

I’d put in a request to be on the same boat as Tony, a laid-back Australian I’d finished my Level 2 training with. We’d gotten along well, mostly by keeping our expectations of each other low and our snacks shared. Tony, in turn, had asked to be on Gavin Rees’s boat. Gavin had the kind of quiet confidence that suggested he could tie a bowline with his eyes closed and had never once yelled at someone for coiling a line the wrong way.

Somehow, it all worked out. Tony and I got our wish, and so did he. Gavin’s our Skipper, and Zoe Longley is our First Mate. Zoe gives the impression of someone who’s very good at remembering which knot to use and when, and doesn’t mind explaining it twice. Together, they seem like a good fit—serious enough to keep us alive, but not so serious they’ll make us feel bad for getting seasick.

You can see me right in the middle in the first row.

Crew Allocation was a proper event—held at the Guildhall in Portsmouth, with around 400 crew packed into the hall, all buzzing with a mix of excitement, nerves, and the low-level panic that comes from not knowing if you’ve packed the right shoes. Everyone wore wristbands that lit up when their Skipper was announced, which felt part concert, part game show. One by one, names and boats were revealed, and wristbands glowed accordingly, people cheering or gasping or whispering, “Wait, who’s that again?”

Peter and I waiting to find out who our skipper will be

There’s a short video of it somewhere—just long enough to prove it really happened, and short enough to keep your family from falling asleep halfway through.

Once all the allocations were done, we were sent off into separate rooms to meet our new crew, along with our Skipper and First Mate. It was our first chance to see who we’d actually be living with—and more importantly, who might be in charge of the cooking schedule. Gavin and Zoe gave us a rundown of all the roles that would need filling. There was a lot of nodding and trying to look competent while quietly Googling what half the positions actually meant.

We wrapped up the evening at a nearby bar, where things instantly felt more relaxed. Pints were ordered, food arrived, and the group started to gel a bit more—less like a team-building workshop, more like a bunch of future shipmates trying to figure each other out over burgers and beer. Gavin brought along his whole family, which added a lovely, very human note to the night. We got to meet his wife and two daughters—both young, sweet, and clearly very proud of him. You could also tell they’d miss him a lot, which was strangely reassuring. There’s something grounding about knowing your Skipper is also someone’s dad.

All in all, it was a good beginning. No one tried to give a motivational speech, and no one spilled a drink—two early signs, I think, of a crew with real potential.