Ellen MacArthur has got to be just about the most pointless figure to pollute the collective British consciousness of late.

Scudding across the sea, publicly moaning/crying about being cold/hungry/ frightened - who’s fault is that? What exactly is the point of yachting around the world alone? Why not take a plane and some friends?

If I was to do something equally as valid like taking a pleasure cruise down the Thames from Greenwich, seeing how many pints I could down at the bar before reaching Tower Bridge, I’d get no publicity at all.

You’re probably thinking, “ah, leave her alone - think of the adventure and the romance: one lone woman’s struggle against the elements”.

To which I would reply with two points:

1) It’s not just poor, plucky Ellen risking her life for glory. It’s also the poor sods who’ll have to risk theirs should anything go wrong. Much like that other famous maritime clot, Tony Bullimore, who had to be rescued by the Australian Navy a few years back. When he declared his intention to continue sailing, his rescuers must have had itchy trigger fingers.

2) Ellen MacArthur is a woman with so much romance in her soul that she called her boat B&Q. That’s right. Plucky Ellen, one woman against the roaring scream of the elements, named her boat after a DIY store. It’s like that line from Fight Club: “When deep space exploration ramps up, it’ll be the corporations that name everything, the IBM Stellar Sphere, the Microsoft Galaxy, Planet Starbucks.” Fair enough that she needed sponsorship, I mean at least she’s not that stupid where she was willing to risk her own money, but why name the boat after your sponsor? Wouldn’t a big sticker down the side of the boat be enough? What next? Tim Henman changing his name to Preparation H?

If she wants to waste her time and energy doing something Magellan did nearly 500 years ago, she should do it without wasting mine.

And she should do it just like Magellan did: without publicity, support, corporate sponsorship or a whining running commentary.