This week's winning letter:

Going with flow paid off

I needed a new hobby when an advertisement caught my eye about sailing in Greece – no experience necessary, just an ability to swim. Feeling intrepid, I booked and went with the flow.

On arrival, I was allocated a berth on a smart yacht with another woman and two men, one with too little experience and the other with too much confidence.

Mediating through all the arguments and altercations about speed, direction and compass headings was somewhat challenging. But we learnt to sail and to interpret the weather, returning with an enhanced vocabulary of sailing terms from “heads” to “reefs”.

Flotilla holidays are a unique way of exploring the Greek islands Credit: WitR - Fotolia/Witold Ryka

By the end of the week the men were making dinner and washing the dishes while we women at the tiller, turning the boat into the sunset, sat on deck sipping our aperitifs, waiting for the call “A table” from the “slaves in the galley”.

It was the start of a lifelong hobby.

Jennifer Pearce, from London, wins a £500 travel voucher and a guidebook from Expert Africa

More feedback from our readers

Ice on deck and we even managed to run aground

Sailing across Lake Superior, in North America, the water was glassy smooth but there had been ice on the deck that morning – despite this being June. We had spent the previous night at Isle Royale, home to wolves, moose and beavers, after a brisk day’s sail from Thunder Bay.

Our crew of 10, in a 40ft yacht, was on a fortnight-long trip to Midland, Ontario. It included negotiating the massive locks at Sault-Ste-Marie, via Copper Harbour and the Shipwreck Museum at White Fish Point.

Once into Georgian Bay, we anchored near an island where the sole residents invited us all to a party, sharing our curry with food brought from the mainland by 15 other guests. Further adventures included a spell aground on a rock when someone misread the chart – and logging a top speed under sail of 10.3 knots.

Caroline Unwin, Hampshire

Mud, glorious mud was the ideal place to perch

On the way to Walton Backwaters, in Essex, I explained to my friend Colin that the 12ft dinghy we were towing was the “yacht” and we were sleeping on board. We launched on the ebb tide towards open water.

Once past Harwich we were able to enjoy the late afternoon sun as we made our way to Wolverstone Marina. The tent cover and air bed made a compact sleeping area.

The glass-smooth waters of Lake Superior Credit: Mark Herreid - Fotolia

Next day, beating downriver against the tide, at Shotley point we eased the sheets and turned to starboard heading up the tranquil River Stour. We let the last of the flood take us to Manningtree, where we settled on the mud at the top of the tide, next to the hard. During the night, the tide lifted us as we slept and deposited us in the middle of a sea of mud far away from the clean hard. Mud, glorious mud!

Peter Harrold, Lincolnshire

Magical snack after swim through crystal-clear water

We are in our 80s but reflect on our sailing holidays with pleasure, excitement and a fair amount of fright! After gaining our Competent Crew certificate at night school, we progressed to flotilla sailing with Sunsail. Our experiences on two-week holidays remain with us.

Anchoring in a small deserted bay in Turkey, we swam through crystal-clear water for an evening snack and a drink on the beach, the spot marked at night by a flickering tea light. Magical. The other side of the coin was being caught in tropical storm Arlene in the British Virgin Islands. Six of us sailed for two hours with waves breaking over the full length of the boat and two people at the wheel. One friend, who couldn’t swim, braved it out while another clung on for dear life below decks, praying that we would survive.

The charming Turkish port of Marmaris Credit: D]MITRIY_LUU_TK/DMITRY LUKASH

I should also mention the wonderful day when a pod of dolphins gambolled around us while we twisted and turned to keep with them. We miss it.

Helen Winslet, Surrey

I found my turtle heaven in the idyllic Virgin Islands

I spent Christmas this year sailing around the British Virgin Islands in a yacht called the Aoibh. The catamaran was incredible, with lots of comfortable sofas and a hammock overlooking the ocean.

We started each day with breakfast before sailing to our next destination where we’d jump into the beautiful clear sea. My best memories were of the fish, the coral reef and my favourite animals – turtles. I once walked around Devil’s Cove, through beautiful caves and pools – quite a challenge, as it involved rock climbing.

Alexandra Wyatt, Berkshire

Surreal sights and sounds in the Norwegian fjords

Snow-capped mountains towered over our boat, rising almost sheer from the crystal-clear waters. Ahead was a huge P&O cruise ship. From its bow, waves peeled away, creating a wake which made small craft bob up and down in hypnotic rhythm. The ship ploughed its way almost apologetically, not wanting to disturb nature at its finest.

Western Norway is home to the biggest concentration of fjords in the world – unique and spectacular. We sailed across one of them under a still blue sky, the air crisp and fresh but not uncomfortably cold. Waterfalls cascaded from high cliffs into the waters below, caressing the rocks as they fell in apparent slow motion.

Nothing quite like being dwarfed by the fjords Credit: Maridav - Fotolia

The mountains were snow-covered, occasional trees looking like candles on a never-ending celebration cake. Impenetrable forest clung to the hills. There were plenty of houses and hunting lodges, no apparent roads, and no Sainsbury’s home delivery service. What do you do if you run out of milk? Rush outside and grab a goat.

We looked everywhere for a troll, and the Northern Lights were playing hard to get, too. I thought I once saw a nun – arms outstretched, running over a lush pasture and being chased by a lonely goatherd. It was surreal.

Dave Harcombe, Doncaster

Green faces and queasy stomachs after horror trip

My most memorable sailing experience was a disastrous trip across the Channel, from Poole to Cherbourg. We had totally misjudged the weather, and as the fierce waves pulled the boat up, to teeter at the very top of the wave before slamming back down again, I could sense everyone waiting for the dreaded crack of the hull (which thankfully never came).

We eventually made it into the French port with green faces and queasy stomachs. Every one of us had been reminded of how cruel the sea can be – and how thankful we were to have had our boat to protect us and guide us safely through the storm.

Louise Drake, Bournemouth

Border post was an oasis after sailing up Mekong

“Thank you for visiting Vietnam. Please use the European washrooms to refresh yourselves while we do your paperwork.”

After six hours of sailing up the Mekong river, our boat party needed no prompting. Large, clean, modern, air conditioned and showing last night’s European Cup on a plasma screen, the border post was an unexpected oasis. With free cups of chilled orange juice and comfy seats, our exit process passed quickly.

The ever-changing scenery of the Mekong River Credit: Nina Lishchuk k/Nina Lishchuk

“Nice place, but typical communist bureaucracy,” growled an American fellow traveller as we left.

Fifteen minutes later, and a short way upstream, we scrambled up a muddy bank to queue in sweltering heat outside the sentry box which housed the Cambodian visa stamper. Or would do, once he had returned from his lunch.

The American piped up again. “Democracy might work,” he drawled, “but its workers sure don’t.” I longed to say even this was an improvement on America’s interrogative immigration system – but I didn’t.

Bill Dean, Lancashire