The Quiet Work, the Loud Impact – Let’s Get Sailing Back

I’ve been pretty quiet about Jazz Turner’s epic solo sail around the UK and Ireland.

Not because I’m not proud (believe me, I am), and not because I’ve been too busy looking at weather systems (though, also true). I’ve stayed quiet because it was her moment. Her journey. Her growth. And as her coach since 2022, I’ve always believed the best thing I can do is give her space to discover her own strength.

But now that she’s crossed the finish line, it feels like the right time to speak up.

Sometimes you just need someone that believes in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself.

Jazz’s challenge was bold, raw, and full of that kind of wild energy only offshore sailors really understand. She raised vital funds for Sailability, raised the profile of disabled sailing, and raised herself – through storms, exhaustion, and a truly personal mission. She also raised something in me: reflection.

Watching her chase her dream inevitably stirred up questions about my own.

Many people have asked why I’ve paused my Vendée Globe campaign. Why I’ve stepped back from personal sailing goals that once defined me. The answer is layered, but it comes down to this: when the opportunity arose to join World Sailing, to use my voice and experience to push for sailing’s return to the Paralympics, I knew I had to take it. I didn’t join for the job title. I didn’t join for the visibility. I joined to serve.

To the getting stuff done attitude that I have always had… reminding myself of the why.

What I didn’t expect was how heavy that service would feel at times.

Behind the scenes, there is endless work: governance reviews, classification reform, stakeholder politics, global programme development, funding bids, events, diplomacy. None of it glamorous. All of it necessary.

And while I don’t do it for credit (quite the opposite), I’d be lying if I said the personal toll hasn’t been immense. I’m tired. I miss my own sailing. I miss the freedom, the clarity of a finish line, the simplicity of chasing wind and waves. And most days, I work until there’s nothing left in the tank – not for recognition, but because I believe in what we’re trying to achieve.

Because sailing belongs in the Paralympics.

We’re closer than people realise. The Inclusive Development Programme is growing. Data is being built. Class engagement is happening. But we are also constantly battling: resistance, external doubt, and far too much infighting. The criticism is loud. The support is often silent. And some days, I wonder how many more hits I can absorb.

So I’m going to say this plainly: I need more support.

Not for me personally – but for the mission. For the movement. For every athlete who just wants the chance to race under their flag on the biggest stage in the world. Abuse, negativity, and division will not get us back to the Paralympic Games.

What will? Unity. Collaboration. Action.

Helping others rise is not failure. It’s not weakness. It’s the work that matters most.

The only sailing I had on my calendar this year was the Women’s Open Keelboat Championship (WOKC), taking Project opportunity into its second year. This year we had varied conditions which challenged even the most experienced of crews, let alone a mixed ability crew who hadn’t had the chance to train together in advance. I chose to do it because it aligns with everything I stand for – creating space, opportunity, and representation in a sport that needs all three. Project Opportunity has never been just about getting women on boats; it’s about opening doors, building confidence, and proving that access matters – and it really does. This the one event I said yes to this year, not because I had the time – but because I believe in what it represents. To win the spirit of WOKC award means more to me than a podium position, it means that the sailing community is noticing and realising what we can achieve.

Jazz’s journey has reminded me of what really matters, and why it matters to have someone that supports you.

Every mile she sailed, every wave she took to the face, every vulnerable update she posted – it wasn’t just about her. It was about all of us. About building a sport where nobody gets left behind. About giving the next athlete a shot.

That’s why I do what I do. That’s why I’ll keep going – even on the days I don’t know how.

So let’s lift each other. Let’s remember what this is all really for. Let’s put our energy into building, not tearing down. And let’s get sailing back where it belongs – on the Paralympic stage.