When Adrian Hayter set out single-handed from Lymington, England on his thirty-two-foot Albert Strange-designed yawl Sheila II, local betting was seven to one that he would get no further than the English Channel. His destination was New Zealand, and the odds were definitely against him. In 1949 perhaps only eight people had sailed solo around the world, and single-handed long-distance sailing voyages were rare. Adrian, then thirty-four, was a soldier, not a sailor. In the previous decade he had been a close observer of the Partition of India and fought as a soldier in the Second World War and the Malayan Emergency. The latter, Britain's brutal reaction to the Communist uprising of 1948, had driven his decision to sail halfway around the world, single-handed. More than sixty years later, and in the thirtieth anniversary year of Adrian's death, Lodestar Books is republishing the story of that voyage, Sheila in the Wind, first published by Hodder and Stoughton in 1959. As a sailor, Adrian recounts his foray into celestial navigation, a back-street appendix operation in India, armed escort by Indonesian authorities at sea, and eating barnacles off the hull to avoid starvation. As a writer he is trying to make sense of the humanitarian disasters that brought him to this voyage. Sheila in the Wind is more than a report of a 13,000-mile adventure; it's a story of the human spirit.

This volume reveals the wisdom we can learn from sailing, a sport that pits human skills against the elements, tests the mettle and is a rich source of valuable lessons in life. * Unravels the philosophical mysteries behind one of the oldest organized human activities * Features contributions from philosophers and academics as well as from sailors themselves * Enriches appreciation of the sport by probing its meaning and value * Brings to life the many applications of philosophy to sailing and the profound lessons it can teach us * A thought-provoking read for sailors and philosophers alike

The lives of philosophers would be dull reading if they were as tidy as their thoughts often tend to be. Alastair Hannay describes how he 'slid' into philosophy but found it a useful means of transport for a life framed here in metaphors of the sea, an unruly element that has played some part in a not always tidy life. Although the philosophy option attracts some because it suits their talents, the less talented may look to it for guidance in making sense of their lives. Hannay's own 'episodic' interest led him by chance to a life-time of active engagement with philosophers of all kinds. An encounter with the works of Soren Kierkegaard opened the way to a personal take on a profession that easily ends in abstractions but which, when its questions are brought down to earth, sees market-place and academic philosophy from a perspective that allows the one to enrich the other.

In this first biography of David Henry Lewis, Ben Lowings examines his lifetime of adventure forensically yet sympathetically, and unlocks the secrets of his determination. This British-born New Zealander was the first person to sail a catamaran around the world, the first - in Ice Bird - to reach Antarctica solo under sail, and the first to make known to Westerners how ancient navigators reached - and could reach again - the Pacific islands. His many voyages resulted in thirteen books published and translated worldwide; many were bestsellers - We, the Navigators has not been out of print since first publication in 1972. David Lewis's achievements have been acknowledged with a series of awards, including that of Distinguished Companion of the New Zealand Order of Merit. But the price of David Lewis's adventures had ultimately to be paid by others in the succession of families he created, then broke apart; and many of his actions brought him into conflict with the feelings of friends and contemporaries. We may legitimately ask 'was it really all worth it?' For the first time his six marriages are revealed, through more than a year of original research in Britain, Australia and New Zealand - including interviews with all surviving family members, as well as friends and fellow voyagers. Events thinly-sketched or omitted in his own writings, such as his father's own failings, are investigated. His kayaking, mountain-climbing and sailing were struggles all the more difficult because of a fractured backbone, shattered elbow and impaired vision. David Lewis's early years get the comprehensive documentation they deserve - in his own memoir he jumps straight from child to fully-fledged explorer. Inaccuracies are corrected in his tale of kayaking four hundred miles home from school. As playboy medical student, British paratrooper fighting in Normandy, and political activist in Palestine, Jamaica and London, he grappled with academic and colonial prejudice, and fought anti-Semitism and inequality; all is examined. As a general practitioner in the East End's impure 1950s air he worked where the new National Health Service was most needed. Professional frustrations and marital disappointments were not soothed by weekend sailing. He would join a pioneering single-handed yacht race to America in 1960, leaving his first daughter to find him on board in Plymouth to say farewell only at the last minute. In 1964 he would race again, but this time in a catamaran, and then, with Fiona, his new wife, and their daughters, girdle the earth in it. For the first time, their circumnavigation is described in part from Fiona's perspective. Media accounts and passages from his many books build up a picture of a consistently experimental, and utterly untypical, middle aged man. Every word in the Antarctic logbook of Ice Bird - scrawled with freezing hands - is closely compared with literary sources, National Geographic articles and his commercially successful book-length account. A new critical appreciation shows the white heat at the core of his being. He has abandoned his children again, and been drugged by ocean solitude. But in the act of writing he is earning his place among humanity. To hell with the frozen hands.