There’s no doubt that despite the often idyllic moments, travelling with youngsters can be a hugely stressful time. The experience ranges from the cherub-like faces of the babe in arms to the screaming toddler which seems to impact one’s head like a jack-hammer.
So it was with some surprise that I found myself agreeing to a family flotilla sailing holiday in the North Ionian, my crew including my grandson, Ted, at 18 months and Charlie aged 3½.
My wife and two sons have sailed before and we all agreed that it should be fairly easy with five adults to share the workload. My firm standpoint was that, while on the water, my role as skipper would be to run the boat safely and get us to our locations all in one piece, and others would do the necessary changing, feeding, wiping, burping and other less pleasant parental roles.
Inauspicious start
From the outset, things didn’t go smoothly. Ted needed a new passport and delays at the passport office meant the new document was returned only a few days before departure. The last-minute rush to leave home in Birmingham at 0300 to be at Manchester Airport by 0500 resulted in Charlie
