THIS really wasn’t what I had in mind. “Introduction to yachting” conjured up all sorts of images when I booked the course, but none of these included panic or sick bags. I was thinking more along the lines of margaritas at sunset.

Given our less than tropical location off the coast of Brighton, Irn-Bru would have been fine too. But there I was clutching on to the 31ft yacht as if my life depended on it after a mere 30 minutes at sea — pallid with fear and praying that I wouldn't heave-ho all over Mickey, our skipper.

“Yawning — a clear sign of sea sickness,” announced Mickey as I inadvertently opened my mouth wide enough to swallow a deck shoe.

But I wanted to do this. Provided I actually managed to complete the four-day training course, I would be qualified to sail keelboats and even charter yachts on flotilla holidays. According to the active holidays company Neilson, I wasn’t the only one who had taken an interest in sailing after Britain’s gold medal win by an all-female crew in the Olympics and Ellen MacArthur’s recent world record. The company has enjoyed a 20 per cent increase in bookings since last year and maintains that the sport’s once snooty and elitist image is a thing of the past.

As far as I could tell the other course members were really enjoying the rough weather. Paul, a retired Army education officer who was about to go on a flotilla holiday in Croatia, was leaning out to create even more lift and Sam, a musician, was grinning so hard you might have thought he’d discovered America.

I learnt a lot of boating jargon that first day. Words such as “heads” (lavatories), “sheets” (ropes attached to sails) and “Genoa” (not the place in Italy but rather the sail at the front, the “bow” of the boat) were bandied about. But the only phrase that really stuck was “ocean motion”.

Thankfully, the poor winds the next day meant that we started out on land with an introduction to navigation using charts and course plotters. Mickey also explained how tides worked — using an apple, an orange and a kiwi fruit to represent the Earth, the Sun and the Moon respectively.

We also practised our knotting skills and were shown how to use the radio in case of emergencies and, more importantly, how it could be used to gossip with other yachts. And finally, we learnt how to execute an engine check — a daily necessity. “If your car stops on the M25, you can call the AA,” said Mickey. “If your boat stops somewhere in the Med, you could be in trouble.”

With the wind picking up, we ventured out in the afternoon but this time I took a couple of motion-sickness pills. They helped, but rather than being huddled up in a queasy cocoon, I found I could hardly keep awake. Until, that was, we practised the man-over-board technique, simulated with a bucket and life vest in the water.

Chaos ensued. When I tried to lift the bucket out of the water using a boat hook, the weight of the water meant that I couldn’t do it if I wanted to hold on with the other arm. Paul then tried to help out but slipped and dropped the boat hook in the water. After our slapstick rescue manoeuvre, any trace of drug-induced weariness vanished. I was at last ready to learn the finer points of sailing: tacking (turning the boat) and gybing (changing tack when sailing downwind).

Trimming the sails was surprisingly easy but steering the boat felt all wrong because if you wanted to go left, you had to steer right. We also had to learn to do some “pontoon bashing”, or, in nautical terms, mooring.

But the MacArthur in me really came to life when we were taken out on a J-92 racing yacht. Only minutes out of the marina, we were going eight knots to the wind, with the hull of the yacht tipped to near-vertical. Being driven on by the elements was utterly exhilarating.

Back on the 31ft Moody on the final day, we faced the final challenge: sailing the boat unaided. As Paul was the only one with a flotilla holiday ahead of him, we decided he should be captain. I was suddenly nervous, with thousands of questions bobbing around in my head: how do you hoist the main sail? What’s a tack? When do I use the winch? But once the initial panic had settled, I discovered I had all the answers. I knew how to master the Moody and best of all, I’d finally acquired some sea legs.

Need to know

Sailing school: Neilson Active Holidays (0870 3661512, www.neilson.com) has four-day Introduction to Yachting courses starting at £330, not including accommodation. Courses run March to November. The pre-flotilla courses offered in Brighton can also be taken overseas as part of a Villa Flotilla holiday. All courses approved by the Royal Yachting Association.

Where to stay: Alias Hotel Seattle, Brighton Marina (01273 679799, www.aliashotels.com) has double rooms starting at £100.

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