“You’re not stopping in Bermuda? Or the Azores?”

It was something people had trouble processing – to sail directly from Sint Maarten in the Caribbean, directly to Ireland.

“But that’s, what? Four thousand miles?”

“About 3,500, actually. It’s what I do. I sail long voyages and write about it.”

It’s true. There are three “Voyage” books. The fourth – Torquay to Grenada, is finished, and I planned to get the final edit done at the same time as writing the fifth (Sint Maarten to Ireland).

All I had to do was sail the 3,500 miles (3,603 as it turned out, in 39 ¼ days) and sit down with the laptop every few hours and write about the minutiae of daily life on a small boat in the middle of a big ocean – the weather, the meals, the hunt for the last packet of pistachios, why I hadn’t brought enough sultanas, books, Netflix downloads expiring. Should I waste Starlink Data updating Spotify so I could learn Tequila on the clarinet… and the dreams, of course …what happened to the dreams?

It was all going rather well as Samsara skipped north with the trade wind on the beam, the sun shining, the spray flying – and stuff happening. The induction hob went on the blink. I can get 2,000 words out of the induction hob going on the blink – can I bear six weeks of cold food? No coffee; no redbush tea! How much fuel did I have for the little alcohol stove? I’d never used it at sea. Would it spill burning alcohol and burn down the boat?

Make that 3,000 words – and another 3,000 sailing back to St Martin (the French side) to buy another hob … but then fixing the broken connector halfway…

And this was just as well because, when I embarked on this life, I was only mildly concerned about how I was going to pay for it. I am a great believer in Mr Micawber’s philosophy: “Something will turn up”.

It wasn’t always like this – anyone who has read Old Man Sailing or, more particularly, my autobiography Faster, Louder, Riskier, Sexier will know the story.

And sure enough, something did turn up – the first book was a success “A word-of-mouth bestseller”, said Yachting Monthly.

But, like all bestsellers, sales dwindled over the years – how many people go into Waterstones today, looking for The DaVinci Code?

The answer, of course, was to write more books. Look at my old classmate Peter James – he’s written more than 50 (and sold 24million).

My output so far totals nine. I’m only just getting started, but the Horse Latitudes helped.

Every sailor knows about the Horse Latitudes. Every sailor since Columbus. This meteorological phenomenon sits between the Trade Winds and the Westerlies:  “an area of light and variable winds”. No problem for a boat like Samsara with her big, light headsail, the Super Zero, and her Hydrovane self-steering, which copes with light weather much better than the old Aries. We might only make 20 miles some days, but we do make progress.

Until we didn’t. On May 18, we came to a complete standstill. The sails hung like washing in a utility room. The wind charger didn’t stir. The only thing that moved was the ocean swell – and every jar and bottle in the galley (in a concert of chinking and clinking as the boat rolled and rolled again as if this might go on forever.)

Of course, I knew it wouldn’t. I have Starlink. I have the Windy App. I knew the wind would return in the early hours. Meanwhile, I could amuse myself with my phone. I recorded a “Welcome to the Horse Latitudes” video. How did they get their name? (Ships short of water would throw the horses over the side. Not very nice.) I uploaded it to Instagram. I could spare that much data. It was only a minute and nine seconds.

They were one minute and nine seconds that changed my life.

It was only an hour or two later that Instagram sent me a notification: 50 people had “liked” my video. That was odd. I’d never had one of those before. The children once told me I had 11,000 followers. I had never worked out where they came from. Next thing you know, I had 20,000 likes… then 50,000…

And that’s just “likes”. Would you believe these little videos have received 3.9million vierws?

Today, as I write this in Power’s Bar in Ireland’s Dunmore East, it appears that 93,200 people have taken the trouble to “follow” me – and another 19,376 on Facebook. The YouTube score is 5,660… Then there’s TikTok – a mere 2,089 (but I’ve only just learned about TikTok).

And just as I am adding up the figures (120,325), I discover what this means: Every day, I get about a hundred messages and comments from all these people (all over the world) who feel they know me. They write as if we’re in the middle of a conversation (which I suppose we are): “I’ll stand you a pint.”

“Why aren’t you wearing a harness?”,

“Put a slug of rum in that tea!”

“Why aren’t you wearing a harness?”

“If you need a lift…”

“Why aren’t you wearing a harness?”

Somebody wrote that they were coming specially to meet me.

I’m not used to this. Oh, there might be a reader who sees the “oldmansailing.com” on the sailcover and comes alongside in their dinghy when they’re on their way ashore. One even brought a book to be signed!

But this latest attention is completely outside my experience – and, frankly, it spooked me. For 36 hours, I stayed cooped up at anchor (the weather helped). Besides, I still hadn’t finished The Voyage #5. I was three days behind. When I reached the end, I found I had only 32,629 words. I need 100,000, so I can chuck out the boring bits. This one’s never going to see the light of day.

But then, does it need to? Already, book sales on Amazon have more than doubled – if this goes on, every month is going to be like Christmas. My daughter, Lottie, WhatsApped from Australia: When am I going to start selling “Merch” on the blog?

Quick, log onto UpWork and get a guy in Pakistan to design an “oldmansailing” hat. Then  I have to learn how “dropshipping” works.

I can become an Amazon Associate. Does that mean I make another 4% from dropshipping my own books?

Apparently, I am a “mid-level influencer”. But, because the videos are less than two minutes long, the “retention rate” is close to 100%. The algorithm loves this. The videos pop up in feeds from The Philippines to Paraguay.

Then an email from the USA: A developer has a contract to pre-load his “Sliides” app onto every android device sold in The States. He needs to add “content” to demonstrate it. Can he add mine?

At 45-50million new Android devices a year? Sure, why not?

I’m living in a bubble, rolling through 50° every two seconds. I must go ashore.

What happens?

The pilot boat goes past. A crewman comes out and takes a picture of me in the dinghy – posts it: “He’s arrived.”

I go for breakfast in the Bay Café: Gary and Aileesh are in the ice cream shop next door. They have a Rival in New Ross boatyard. They buy me a coffee. A man called Eddy comes by – in full cycling gear: “I’ve been following you.” Gary and Aileesh take my washing to the laundry. Later, I discovered they paid for it, too.

I still have to get up the river tomorrow. It’s 18 miles, the current runs at 2 ½ kts, and still don’t know if I can count on the engine. But Steve sends a message: “I’ll be going back to New Ross on Sunday (bright yellow Van de Stadt 30). Happy to ride shotgun.

An old friend tells me I’m famous.

I might not be used to it. But I think I can live with it.