After 15 days at sea a bizarre thing has happened. In the middle of this desert of an ocean in the middle of the night, sitting at the back of the boat. It has become a very familiar place, surrounded by nothing but ocean and sky. It's difficult to explain precisely but I have realised that despite spending the last few days wishing it was over and telling myself that I'll be glad I have done itbut I;ll definitely have got it out of my systemand yet I realise now, sitting here, that I'll miss it. There is a peace and serenity to be found at sea even when it is at it's most tempetuous, even when it is at it's most dangerous I do not fear it. I wonder vaguely if it is anything to do with the ancestral memories of the generations of Waldman mariners, atually I don't believe that at all but it is wistful to think of my dad Stuart, his father Neil and my great grandfather Augustwho would all have experienced a night watch looking out at this same scene.
12:00 600 miles to run
It has been a busy morning: we gybed the headsail, a big moment in the life of Next Step. It's all very complicated, but the pole has been out the same side since we left Las Palmas with the sail attached to it, however this morning we had to flip it over to the starboard side - I make it sound so easy. On any boat I have been on the foredeck work is always a bloody pallavar - it's all very complicated and seems to me like a bit of a black art and different on every boat There are jib sails, genoas, PFRs, Code Zeros, cruising chutes, spinnakers, assymetrics, parasailers for catamarans and so it goes on. Anyway, don't ask me, it's all Harry Potter to me. Winsailium leviosa!