A 50-Year Sailing Reunion Brings Three Cruising Guest Books Back to Life

A message from a sailor she hadn’t seen in nearly 50 years sent Lin Pardey back through three guest books—and reminded her that the people met along the way can make a cruising life last in memory long after a voyage ends.

David Jackson had been aboard Fandango when Pardey and her husband, Larry, sailed into Poole, England. Now he and his wife were planning a visit to New Zealand and hoped to meet again. To find his old entry, Pardey opened the log from Seraffyn, then turned to the books from Taleisin and Sahula. Each page brought back a different part of the couple’s years at sea.

A guest book with two meanings

The story began after Pardey and Larry had crossed the Atlantic and spent two months exploring England’s southwest coast. At Poole’s town quay, they found the only open spot astern of Fandango, a handsome, bright-blue, 35-foot wooden sloop. Terry and two friends hurried over to take Seraffyn’s lines as the rushing tide and gusty wind made the approach challenging.

Grateful for the help, the Pardeys invited the three aboard for a drink. The men were schoolmates from the Midlands, and Terry was a cabinetmaker. They had spent five years earning enough to buy and outfit Fandango. The boat was nearly ready, and they hoped to begin cruising once spring arrived and they had saved enough.

The evening ran late, with questions and laughter filling the cabin. Pardey brought out a small leather-bound book given to them as a launching gift. Seraffyn’s name was stamped in gold above the words “Guest Log.” Terry saw an opportunity: if the crew ever ran short of money, he joked, they could write to everyone who signed and ask for a fiver.

Larry explained that the book was for keeping track of the people they met, so they could remember names, reconnect later or get in touch when sailing near someone’s home. The three visitors signed. Then Terry, apparently pleased with the idea, returned a few days later with a new guest book for Fandango and asked Larry to make its first entry.

When Terry opened the book, he read Larry’s comment and erupted: “You ruined my book! Now everyone will see what you wrote!” After Terry stormed away, Pardey asked Larry what he had put on the page. His answer was two words: “No loans.”

When a signature ends the visit

Years later, aboard Wanderer V near Daphne Island, close to Victoria, British Columbia, the Pardeys were spending an evening with their mentors, Eric and Susan Hiscock. Susan brought out the Hiscocks’ guest book and asked them to sign. As they looked through the pages, Larry recalled the misunderstanding with Terry.

Susan had her own guest-book story. She and Eric were anchored in English Harbour, Antigua, when a young couple arrived in a relatively small cruising boat. The couple rowed over to invite them for drinks the next day. They seemed delighted when the Hiscocks accepted.

The hosts spent the morning tidying their boat. When Eric and Susan arrived at the agreed time, they found it immaculate. The couple showed them favorite details on deck, then gave them a careful tour below. Hors d’oeuvres, four glasses and two bottles of wine were ready on the galley counter. Susan expected a relaxed visit and a chance to learn more about the pair.

Instead, as soon as the guests were invited to sit at the saloon table, the wife handed Susan the guest log. Susan and Eric signed, then stood, thanked their hosts and rowed back to Wanderer IV. Only afterward did they wonder whether the couple had intended the book as a signal that the visit should end. In British yachting circles, Susan explained, bringing out a guest book can politely close a gathering. She had assumed the custom was familiar to everyone.

By the time the Hiscocks understood that the wife may simply not have known the convention, the couple had weighed anchor and left the bay. They never met again.

Three books, decades of encounters

David’s message gave Pardey a reason to search through her own records. The oldest was Seraffyn’s guest log from an 11-year meander; its original cover was gone. The more battered leather book came from Taleisin’s 27-year sojourn. The newest, for Sahula, was a shop-bought notebook with its title written on the cover in indelible black ink.

Finding the entries from Fandango’s crew took time, though the pages weren’t hard to locate. The delay came from the memories each one stirred. The books held names of aspiring voyagers like Terry and David, experienced sailors such as Eric and Susan Hiscock, people who had stopped to talk along a jetty and become lifelong friends, and visitors known for only a few hours.

Pardey sent David a photograph of his signed page. She thanked him for the friendship that began at Poole and for prompting her to revisit the log. Sailing, destinations and views had all kept cruising appealing, she wrote, but the people she met along the way were what made it “totally enticing.”

After more than 240,000 miles of cruising, Pardey is at sea again. The recovered page offers a simple reminder for anyone keeping a boat’s guest book: write down the name, leave room for the years to pass, and make it possible for an old connection to find its way back aboard.