Lone voyagers are brimming with contradictions. They can afford few self doubts if they are to survive the trials of solitude, the relentless demands of single-handed sailing and the potentially overwhelming power of wind and sea. Yet what is such an adventure if not a journey of self-discovery which will test one's confidence and self-awareness to the limit? It is likely to be a life-changing experience. And so it was for Clarissa Vincent. As the familiar English coastline disappeared over the horizon and Storm Petrel settled into the steady rhythm of the sea, canvas taut, heeling jauntily to the breeze, Clarissa too was beginning to spread her own wings, free at last to embrace a new identity and live on her own terms. A passage that was originally intended to stop at Spain slipped almost seamlessly into a voyage to West Africa. And with her went music. Friends will tell you that if you follow the sinuous sounds of a saxophone on a sunny afternoon, or subtle guitar chords quietly floating on a warm evening's air, you will likely find Clarissa. For making music is as essential a part of her everyday life as breathing. Hand her an instrument and the melodies will flow, as they often did during undemanding spells at sea, while the nautical miles slid relentlessly under Storm Petrel's keel. Clarissa's voyaging may be over - at least for the present - but her musical journey knows no bounds, and, thanks to the internet, reaches out to audiences worldwide. Meanwhile I hope you enjoy reading the Voyage of Storm Petrel as much as I have. Andrew Blackford