This is an iHeart Podcast. Guaranteed human. Run a business and not thinking about podcasting? Think again. More Americans listen to podcasts, then add supported streaming music from Spotify and Pandora. And as the number one podcaster, iHeart's twice as large as the next two combined. Learn how podcasting can help your business. Call 844-844-IHEART. Pushkin. A warning before we start. This episode discusses death by suicide. If you're suffering emotional distress or you're having suicidal thoughts, support is available. For example, from the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline in the US, or from the Samaritans in the UK. 16-year-old Simon Crowhurst Browses the shelves in the library On his first day at a new school He's in the history section Looking for a book on King John He's about to see something Much more interesting Years earlier When he was just eight Simon and his three siblings had waved off their father, Donald Crowhurst, from the harbour of a British port. He was going to sail round the world on his own, non-stop. We heard on the last episode of Cautionary Tales about the Sunday Times Golden Globe race and the man who won the trophy for being the first to complete the journey. If you haven't heard that episode, you might want to do that now. The race had another prize, too, for the sailor who sailed fastest round the world, from one British port and back again, leaving between June and October in 1968. The prize was £5,000. An equivalent sum today might be around a quarter of a million dollars. This was the prize Donald Crowhurst wanted to win. Crowhurst set off on the final day of October the latest possible moment and he still wasn't ready the last few days had been a blizzard of activity family, friends and well-wishers buzzing around buying supplies, doing jobs no sooner had Crowhurst left the harbour than he turned around and came back again when he'd tried to raise his sails he discovered that someone had put them on wrong. I'll be glad, but I'm on my own. Without help from you, bloody lot. Crowhurst gave his wife a theatrical wink, rearranged his sails, and set off again. Nearly nine months later, Crowhurst's wife, Claire, gathered little Simon and his siblings in a bedroom and told them that their dad's boat had been found. and he wasn't on it. Then she began to sob. We didn't know he was dead, Simon later recalled, but we knew something very serious had happened. Years passed. Claire Crowhurst doesn't believe that she consciously withheld the truth from her children. I think if the children asked me questions, I answered them. But of course, they didn't know the questions to ask. And so Simon Crowhurst didn't know why his dad had disappeared, when, at the age of 16, a book caught his eye on the shelves of his new school's library. The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst. It was like a little electric shock. Simon recalls, he weren't allowed to take books out of the library, and Simon was a rule-abiding kid, so it didn't occur to him to steal it. Instead, he sat down and read as much as he could before the library closed. Then, the next chance he got, he came back and read some more. He read to the end of the book. Then, he read it again. Simon later recalled to the writer Chris Eakin, things that people had said dropped into place. So what was so strange about the last voyage of Donald Crowhurst? I'm Tim Harford, and you're listening to Cautionary Tales. Donald Crowhurst ran a small electronics company that made equipment for sailors. He invented a product called the Navigator. In the days before GPS, one way for sailors to try to figure out where they were was from the relative strength of radio signals. The Navigator was a futuristic gun-like device. You'd point it towards where you thought the nearest land might be, and it would calculate your rough position. Crowhurst was an absolutely brilliant innovator, said the main investor in his company. But as a businessman, he was hopeless. The investor had more or less resigned himself to losing his money when Crowhurst approached him with a plan to turn the failing business around. The Sunday Times had announced a race to sail solo round the world, leave before the end of October, and the sailor who made it back in the shortest time would win a handsome cash prize and also publicity. just what an inventor needs. Crowhurst wanted to make the voyage in a trimaran, a relatively new design of boat. Imagine your classic boat shape and add arms sticking out on either side connected to smaller boat-shaped floating compartments. Trimarans were fast and stable, usually. But nobody had yet tried to sail one round the world, and for very good reason. The fearsome waves of the Southern Ocean, under Africa, Australia and South America, threatened to expose the big vulnerability of the trimaran design. If it capsized, it wouldn't right itself. Simpler boats do. Flip them over, and they'll pop back up again. But if a trimaran tips over, those sideways arms and floating compartments will keep it firmly upside down. Donald Crowhurst had an ingenious solution, he told his investor. An electronic system would detect if the trimaran was upside down and trigger a pressurised gas canister to inflate a buoyancy device. that would flip it the right way up again. If the practical utility of the equipment I propose can be demonstrated in such a spectacular way as winning the race, the rapid and profitable development of the company cannot be in any doubt. The investor's wife told him he'd be mad to risk another penny. Crowhurst was hopeless at business. But he was also the most impressive and convincing of men, the investor later wistfully recalled. He agreed to lend Crowhurst enough to build a boat, with the partial security of a mortgage on Crowhurst's house. I have gone into the problems and risks in detail, and I am very confident of success. He'd better be. If Crowhurst failed, he stood to lose not only his business, but his home. Another sailor also wanted to take a trimaran around the Southern Ocean. Lieutenant Commander Nigel Tetley liked the trimaran so much, he lived on one. He was soon to retire from the Royal Navy at the age of 45. One Sunday morning, reading the newspapers over breakfast, Tetley handed his wife the Sunday Times an article announcing the race. He waited till she'd read it and asked, May I go? Eve Tetley looked at her husband for a long time. I would not try to stop you. Tetley hoped, at first, to build a new trimaran for the journey. That would need money. He wrote letters to every potential sponsor he could think of. My sailing experience covers 30 years and includes the round Britain race, in which I achieved fifth place in my family trimaran. He got lots of good wishes and no offers of cash. Oh well, he'd just have to rent a flat for Eve and take the family trimaran. Like Donald Crowhurst but in a much more literal way Nigel Tetley was risking his home Donald Crowhurst struggled to find someone to build his trimaran. Time was tight. Eventually, a boatyard on the other side of the country agreed to the job. The boatyard boss was most impressed with Crowhurst. His ideas for the boat design were often brilliant, although unfortunately they were also often impossible to test before the end October deadline. For example, Crowhurst wanted the hulls divided into various compartments, including one for the heavy generator, low down, to help keep the boat stable. Every compartment needed a watertight hatch, but the boat builders couldn't find the right kind of rubber. Would the replacement rubber keep out leaks? Only time would tell. In early October, the boat was ready. Ish. Crowhurst sailed it from the boatyard to a harbour near his home for the final preparations. He expected the journey to take three days. It took 13. That left him just two weeks before the deadline for departure. A local remembers, Everyone was trying to help, but nobody knew what to do. Crowhurst hadn't an inkling what was happening. He was in a daze. The boat would need specially reinforced hose, for example To pump out water that leaked in The pump was too powerful for normal hose Crowhurst had forgotten to ask the boat builder to supply it He tracked some down and had it flown to the airport on a private plane But when someone went to collect it, they couldn't find it anywhere I can only think someone pinched it for their garden Then, when Crowhurst opened the specially made hatch to the generator compartment, the rubber seal fell off. How the hell is that going to stand up to the Southern Ocean? Over coffee, an old friend asked Crowhurst if he could really get his boat around the world. His journey from the boatyard had gone so much more slowly than planned. In response, Crowhurst began to doodle a map of Africa and South America. Well, one could always shuttle around in the South Atlantic for a few months. There are places out of the shipping lanes where no one would ever spot a boat like this. So, not go into the Southern Ocean at all? Fake going round the world? It would be simple. No one would ever find out. Was he serious? Crowhurst laughed. Of course not. He was joking. Of course. He was joking. Cautionary Tales will be back after the break. Think again. More Americans listen to podcasts than ad-supported streaming music from Spotify and Pandora. And as the number one podcaster, iHeart's twice as large as the next two combined. So whatever your customers listen to, they'll hear your message. Plus, only iHeart can extend your message to audiences across broadcast radio. Think podcasting can help your business? Think iHeart. Streaming, radio, and podcasting. Call 844-844-iHeart to get started. That's 844-844-iHeart. Soon after Donald Crowhurst departed, his wife Claire got a knock on the door. It was someone dropping off a bag that had been found on the harbour slipway. It contained a long, loving letter that Claire had written to Donald, a present for Christmas, and a ham and salad bun for his dinner. She'd put this bag on board herself. Someone must have taken it off and forgotten to put it back Also, accidentally left on the slipway was a pile of plywood, rigging, nuts and screws all the spare parts that Donald would need to do running repairs on his boat We heard in the last episode how this round-the-world boat race was really about maintenance Robin Knox Johnston, the first to finish filled his boat with supplies for maintenance. Bernard Moitessier, who quit the race to save his soul, carefully minimised the need for maintenance. Donald Crowhurst had the worst of both worlds, a boat that needed maintaining and no supplies to do it with. He soon noticed the lack of supplies when screws worked loose from the steering mechanism. That's four screws gone now Can't keep cannibalising from other spots forever The thing will soon fall to bits The missing hose for the pump was an issue too because the hatches were leaking badly The whole compartment was flooded I bailed out with a bucket It was a long, exhausting job that took three hours Two weeks in, Crowhurst wrote a nine-page entry in his logbook listing everything wrong with his boat The leaks, lack of pump, falling out screws The sails still weren't right Oh, and his ingenious buoyancy system to right the boat in case of a capsize didn't exist He hadn't had time to make it If he went into the Southern Ocean, Crowhurst estimated his chances of survival were perhaps no better than 50-50. I must soon decide whether or not I can go on. What a bloody awful decision to chuck it in at this stage. What a bloody awful decision. Nigel Tetley had set off weeks earlier and things were going rather smoothly Two months at sea The days go by more or less on a framework of routine The family trimaran is holding up remarkably well Bits have dropped off her, it is true Leaks have developed But such minor troubles are to be expected. She is an excellent seaboat. Tetley's diary of the journey majors on the weather and what he had for lunch. After a dull start, the day brightened up. The wind stayed light, about force two. I have cooked some crazy dishes recently. For example, spaghetti, peas and curried prawns. It's, frankly, a bit boring. As he passes Cape Town, Tetley gets a call from a radio station. They've got a Sunday Times reporter on the phone, hoping for a story. The reporter soon gets exasperated. Haven't you fallen over the side or anything else exciting? No. But Tetley is about to enter the Southern Ocean. Exciting things might happen there. The book that young Simon Crowhurst finds in his school library, The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst, was written by journalists from the Sunday Times. After Crowhurst's boat was found, floating deserted in the Atlantic, the journalists tried to reconstruct what had happened from his logbooks and tape recordings he'd made on equipment he'd been given by the BBC. The journalists make the case that Crowhurst wrote and spoke in two distinct voices. There's the private Crowhurst, honest and real. What a bloody awful decision! And there's an act that Crowhurst put on with a view to later public consumption. He expected the BBC to broadcast his tapes after his voyage. On the same day he put his odds of surviving at just 50-50. He made an upbeat tape recording. I've been at sea now for very nearly 14 days, and I'm on my way to a rendezvous with Cape Horn. This trimaran really is phenomenally stable. Crowhurst could perform. He was a leading light in his local amateur dramatic society. But performing isn't something we do only on a stage. A decade earlier, the sociologist Irving Goffman published a book that became a classic of sociology, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. Goffman invites us to see all of life as a theatre. Every social interaction is a stage of sorts. A business meeting, a cocktail party, even a casual conversation. We play the role we think the situation demands of us. Only when we're backstage can we drop the act and be ourselves. Crowhurst's two distinct voices are a striking example of Goffman's theory at work. With his BBC tape recorder, he's front stage Showing the bluff optimism as the Sunday Times writers put it Of Crowhurst the hero as he would like to appear Backstage meanwhile Crowhurst grappled with his bloody awful decision Risk the Southern Ocean with its 50-50 chance of death? Or chuck it in with its certainty of financial ruin? Crowhurst chose neither. He had joked with a friend about faking the voyage by hiding in the southern Atlantic for a few months. Just a joke. But he wasn't joking now. His Morse code messages began to be strategically ambiguous about his position. Towards Madeira. That could cover a couple of thousand miles. Off Brazil. Half the mid-Atlantic is off Brazil. Heading south. May have to seal charger compartment. Sneaky. Everyone knew Crowhurst's generator was in a compartment with a leaky hatch. It made sense that he might decide to fully seal the hatch for the Southern Ocean, where the waves would be most fierce. And if he couldn't open the hatch, he couldn't recharge batteries for the radio. So he couldn't send messages. Crowhurst had set up the perfect excuse to drop out of radio contact. Then, in a few months' time, he could pop up again and say he'd made it round Cape Horn and was back in the Atlantic, heading for home. Nigel Tetley, meanwhile, actually is braving the Southern Ocean. And it's too exciting for comfort. Trimorans, remember, won't right themselves if they capsize. A monstrous wave clobbers his boat, and for an awful moment, Tetley thinks it's flipping over. I felt her teeter at an angle of about 50 degrees in a half cartwheel. Then she slowly righted. Another wave floods the cabin. A solid wham! A starboard window gave way, and the sea was in. The night passed miserably, cold and damp. But he makes it to Cape Horn, the emotional peak of the journey, the point where the worst has passed. You're out of the Southern Ocean. you turn north into the Atlantic with its promise of kinder weather. Remember from our last episode how the French philosopher-sailor Bernard Wattessier described his rounding of the Cape. A great cape has a soul, a soul as smooth as a child's, as hard as a criminal's. Here's Nigel Tetley's less-than-stirring prose. I cannot claim that the moment held any strong emotive connection. For me, the horn was more of a navigational problem than anything else. Tetley's boat is battered and weakened, but it should just about get him home. And he doesn't need to rush. Bernard Moitessier's out of the race. There's no news from Donald Crowhurst. Only Robin Knox Johnston has completed the voyage, and he was so slow that Techley can afford to take it easy and still win the prize for the fastest journey. Donald Crowhurst hides out in the South Atlantic, listening to weather reports for the parts of the Southern Ocean where he's going to claim he'd been. He meticulously reverse-engineers his logbook, coming up with plausible positions for each day's sailing. He records a tape for the BBC, putting on a show about how hard he'd tried to send radio messages while passing Australia. Unfortunately, my signals were very weak and my battery was getting extremely low. Unsealing the hatch could be dangerous in the conditions. It was fairly rough and there was a fair amount of water getting into the cockpit. At last, he decides enough time has passed for it to be plausible to say that he's rounded Cape Horn, unsealed the hatch to the generator and recharged his batteries. He sends a bullish Morse code message, pretending to be newly reconnected and wanting to know how his competitors are doing. What's new ocean bashing-wise? Crowhurst's back in the race. And the date he's chosen to claim that he's rounded Cape Horn puts him on course for a dramatic neck-and-neck finish with Nigel Tetley to claim the prize for the fastest journey. A few weeks ahead of him, Tetley has been playing it safe, nursing his cracked and creaking trimaran gently across the Atlantic. Now, he hears that Donald Crowhurst has rounded Cape Horn and is hot on his tail. I wanted to win. Or put it another way, I didn't want anyone to beat me. Least of all in a similar type of boat. Tetley decides he needs to risk pushing harder. When a storm starts to gather, he leaves up his sails for as long as he dares. His gamble ends in disaster. About a thousand miles from Britain, nearly 97% of his way around the world, part of Tetley's boat snaps off. Water gushes in through a hole. Tetley clambers onto a life raft as his family home quickly sinks beneath the waves. Maybe! Maybe! Maybe! Cautionary tales will return. Run a business and not thinking about podcasting? Think again. More Americans listen to podcasts than ad-supported streaming music from Spotify and Pandora. And as the number one podcaster, iHeart's twice as large as the next two combined. So whatever your customers listen to, they'll hear your message. Plus, only iHeart can extend your message to audiences across broadcast radio. Think podcasting can help your business? Think iHeart. Streaming, radio, and podcasting. Let us show you at iHeartAdvertising.com. That's iHeartAdvertising.com. In Irving Goffman's metaphor of life as theatre, some social performances come naturally, others are an effort. It's a relief to get backstage and drop the act. But in a theatre, you're backstage with other actors. You can talk things over, compare notes, prepare for the next show. in the backstage of his boat in the middle of the ocean Donald Crowhurst has nobody to talk to and the role he's committed to playing will be incredibly demanding so far his performances are little more than rehearsals on his own with a tape recorder will he really be able to maintain a convincing account of sailing around the southern ocean In all the interviews he'll have to give. With news of Nigel Tetley's sinking, this question comes sharply into focus. Crowhurst is now on course to win the prize. He'll easily beat the time set by Robin Knox Johnston. Telegrams flood in. Whole town planning huge welcome. Your triumph bringing 100,000 folk. The BBC get in touch. Television programme for day of return. They want to meet offshore to pick up his tapes before his arrival. Can arrange helicopter. At this point, Donald Crowhurst's mind starts to fall apart. He stops sailing towards Britain and lets his boat drift. With nobody to talk to, he writes in his logbook, under the heading, Philosophy. What explains human troubles? The explanation of our troubles is that cosmic beings are playing games with us. At times, his ideas sound like a kooky yet familiar kind of New Age religion. By learning to manipulate the space-time continuum, man will become God and disappear from the physical universe as we know it. But as Crowhurst writes and writes 25,000 words, he becomes more and more unhinged. I am the only man on Earth who realizes what this means. It means I can make myself a cosmic being by my own efforts. His realization will save the world. Mathematicians and engineers will skim through my complete work in less than an hour. Problems that have beset humanity for thousands of years will have been solved for them By the final page he talking directly to the cosmic beings It is finished It is the mercy. It is the end of my game. It is the time for your move to begin. I will resign the game. There is no reason for harmful. He stops, mid-sentence. And then, we can only imagine, he puts down his pencil, rises from his logbook, and steps out into the sea. 40 years after the Golden Globe race the journalist Chris Eakin spoke to everyone he could to write a book, A Race Too Far He interviewed Simon Crowhurst, then 48 years old and a researcher at Cambridge University Simon tells Chris Eakin about how, as a teenager, he'd found in his school's library the strange last voyage of Donald Crowhurst and started to understand what had happened to his dad and what happened afterwards. When Donald Crowhurst's boat was found, the race was over. The first man home, Robin Knox Johnston, would be the only finisher, and therefore the fastest. He was due the £5,000, a meaningful sum. Knox Johnston wasn't rich. Before the race, he'd worked as an officer on trade ships. The prize was two and a half times his annual salary. Knox Johnston told the Sunday Times to give the money to Crowhurst's family. They told him what they discovered from studying Crowhurst's logbooks. He cheated. Did Knox Johnston still want Crowhurst's family to have the money? Of course, he said. I wasn't giving money to a cheat. I was giving the money to an unfortunate family who were going to be in an even worse plight now. Those children were going to suffer. I just thought there was no change to the situation. When Simon Crowhurst was old enough to understand what Robin Knox Johnston had done for his family, he wrote to thank him. They stayed in touch. Simon has a great deal of admiration for him. The journalist Chris Eakin also interviewed Eve Tetley, whose husband, Nigel, sank so agonisingly close to the finish line. Had it not been for Crowhurst, Nigel would have plodded home cheerfully. Crowhurst is why he sank. I hated Crowhurst so much. Hate, hate, hate. Life was hard for the Tetleys after Nigel's rescue. They started to build a new trimaran. A new home. But money was tight. Tetley wrote a book, Trimeran Solo. But sales were poor. That's actually not surprising. It's, frankly, a bit boring. Tetley gave a lecture at a Navy event. But afterwards, no one approached him with questions. Robin Knox Johnston was there. I saw the hurt on his face. so I went up to chat to him. That was how we got to know each other. I wonder how much of that he put up with. Yes, but you didn't succeed. It was a very remarkable voyage, and he never really got the credit for it. If Nigel was disappointed by the lack of credit, he never showed it to Eve. Stiff upper lip. They had to stop talking about Donald Crowhurst. Nigel was uncomfortable at how intensely Eve hated him. I think he probably felt there but for the grace of God I could have gone. The going bonkers, the effect of the solitude. I just think he was so sympathetic to Crowhurst's predicament. Perhaps sympathetic is not the right word, but understanding. I had no time for that. One day, three years after the race, Tetley disappeared. His body was found in a forest. He had died by hanging. The newspapers reported that he'd been depressed. But when a policeman broke the news to Eve, he had a sensitive question to ask. Are any of your clothes missing? I thought, what a funny question. He said, what about underwear? I had no idea why he was asking that. Tetley had been found in stockings, suspenders and a corset. The inquest said this wasn't suicide. It was sexual adventure gone wrong. Bloody hell. It was all so unlike Nigel. Maybe, just maybe, Nigel technically sympathised with Donald Crowhurst because he understood the mental strain of putting on an act to hide a secret. It's hard to be backstage on your own, with no one to drop the act with and be who you really are. In The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst, the authors describe how Crowhurst became obsessed with trying to get a phone call through to his wife, Claire. His radio didn't work as it should. He could send and receive messages in Morse code, but he couldn't talk to radio stations to ask them to connect a call. He spent days trying to fix it. but never could. It's hard not to wonder what might have been different if Crowhurst had been able to share his predicament with someone he loved. Then again, perhaps nothing would really have changed. Claire Crowhurst recalls a conversation the night before Donald left. Darling, I'm very disappointed in the boat. She's not right. I'm not prepared If I leave with things in this hopeless state Will you go out of your mind with worry? If you give up now, will you be unhappy for the rest of your life? Donald didn't answer He started to cry Only much later did Claire understand what Donald had been trying to say I was such a fool, such a stupid fool I didn't realise Don was telling me he'd failed and wanted me to stop him Even with his wife Donald Crowhurst couldn't let go of the role he was playing The hero, willing to press on even with everything against him Claire responded by playing the role she thought the situation demanded the loyal, loving, supportive wife. All of life's a theatre, Irving Goffman says. If we have no friends backstage to share our true selves, the theatre is a lonely place to be. A key source for this episode was A Race Too Far. The tragic story of Donald Crowhurst and the 1968 round-the-world race by Chris Eakin. For a full list of sources, see timharford.com. Cautionary Tales is written by me, Tim Harford, with Andrew Wright, Alice Fiennes and Ryan Dilley. It's produced by Georgia Mills and Marilyn Rust. The sound design and original music are the work of Pascal Wise Ben Nadaf Hafri edited the scripts It features the voice talents of Melanie Guttridge, Genevieve Gaunt, Stella Harford, Lisea Munro, Jamal Westman and Rufus Wright The show also wouldn't have been possible without the work of Jacob Weisberg, Greta Cohn, Eric Sandler, Carrie Brody, Christina Sullivan, Kira Posey and Owen Miller. Cautionary Tales is a production of Pushkin Industries. If you like the show, please remember to share, rate and review. It really does make a difference to us. And if you want to hear it ad-free and receive a bonus audio episode, video episode and members only newsletter every month, why not join the Cautionary Club? To sign up, head to patreon.com slash cautionaryclub. That's patreon, P-A-T-R-E-O-N dot com slash cautionaryclub.
