Welcome to Yorkshire

Halloween Story Competition

There have been some strange happenings on board Welcome to Yorkshire this fateful day. There is a sense of foreboding and our boat has taken on an eerie quality. As dark clouds seemed to roll out of the rolling mist to envelope our ill fated yacht our skipper called for a head sail change.

"Get the Yankee 2 on deck for an immediate head sail change," Chris bellowed at the top of his voice.

The crew, already poised like a coiled spring, leapt into action, a practice that has become merely habit, and indeed second nature, amongst the elite and well drilled crew aboard the Welcome to Yorkshire boat. Tearing the Yankee 2 from its place of rest the crew noticed that the sail appeared significantly heavier than before, something rarely seen on any racing yacht, especially amongst its crew. "The sail's stuck" the crew shouted as they endeavoured in vain to heave the leaden sail towards the open hatch.

A closer inspection revealed what terrifying menace was causing us the issue. It was not, as thought, the ship’s cat (Richard Simons) having a snooze in the sail. No, it appears we had a wholly more malevolent visitor on board (if that is possible). A visitor of a dark and dreadful nature and whose presence would soon strike fear and dread in the hearts of this brave and fearless crew. There was a movement and peering through the gloom and dank atmosphere of the ghetto, the silhouette of a crouched hooded creature rose slowly from the shadows, blood dripping from its fangs. There was no mistaking those features. The GRIBS were wrong yet again, it was not going to be a sunny day at all. It appeared the Count had already devoured his first victim.

In a flash the creature lunged forward towards the crew, spitting bile at James. But for some frantic intervention on his part (desperate to save his mentor and guide) it would have dragged Guy off into the depths of the lazarette.

A tentative inspection of the lazarette revealed the creature had vanished, perhaps seeking more squalid quarters in the skipper’s cabin. But surely not. No one, not even the Count, would risk that. The creature was tracked onto the foredeck where it had disappeared and a search began to locate Dracula, the name that cannot not be spoken of again. The search found nothing but a victim. It appeared that the Count had fled.

In the wake of Dracula's visit we quickly discovered we were one crew member down.

Hours have passed since the dramatic events above. The crew sit quietly muttering to themselves in small groups looking nervously towards the skipper’s cabin. Further light has been shed on the possible hiding place of our very own Dracula. Tales, untold until now, have been heard, of strange creatures emerging from time to time from the skipper’s cabin.

Admittedly, by and large sporting pink hair, even now several days on, a manic cackle can often be heard emanating from that dark place least visited by all on board. Some say that Rupert Dean is a round the world yachtsman – some say he is a necromancer of the highest order.

For the crew of Welcome to Yorkshire, the tired drawn and haunted faces say it all.


Of course some say differently that Dracula still lies in the lazarette waiting for us to hoist the dreaded heavyweight spinnaker again, others say Dracula was just Steve Reid with a-bit of make up on. Will we ever know what really happened on Welcome to Yorkshire?


Kyle Gardiner and Chris Leivers, Welcome to Yorkshire

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