

My haplogroup is designated now as
R1b1b2a1b5
This corresponds to test results of
L21+ M222- M37- P66-
In the database of some 76 thousand records, there's nobody with exactly the same marker values as me. From a probability viewpoint, this is hardly surprising. By limiting the number of matched markers and the so-called genetic difference between my marker values and those of my "genetic cousins" in the database, I have to relax considerably the matching constraints before homing in on individuals whose DNA looks a bit like mine. Tested individuals whom I encounter in this way generally have English-sounding surnames, but they're all still quite remote from me in terms of marker values. That's to say, they don't seem to be in the vicinity of hypothetical relatives, with a surname not too far removed from Skyvington, who sailed from France to England at the time of William the Conqueror.

Funnily, this anecdote concerning my discovery of a link to the Conqueror illustrates perfectly what might be termed the futility or vanity of DNA-based genealogical research. On the one hand, I'm justly happy (to use a silly adjective) to know that I'm a member of such-and-such a paternal haplogroup. On the other hand, however, I've suddenly discovered an authentic paper trail to an illustrious ancestor whose Y chromosomes are totally "foreign" with respect to mine.
My conclusion: Old-fashioned family-history paper trails are surely more profoundly interesting than all this otherwise-exciting DNA stuff. The paper trails involve real human individuals, whereas our Y chromosomes involve little more than chemistry, in a terribly limited genealogical context: that of a strictly paternal line.
A wag in France once asked: "When weekend bike-riders get together, what do they talk about?" The answer: "Bikes." This observation might be paraphrased in our genealogical domain. Question: "When various chromosomes get together, what do they communicate about?" Answer: "Genes." Fair enough. Genes are indeed an enthralling and fabulous topic of conversation.