Diatonic; Sunday 29 May 2011; 12:00 UTC; 39 26N, 36 04W

Things are becoming desperate, our staple rations of Heineken are very low. The Milwaukie beer, apparently "America's favourite beer", and recommended by Mr No Names (Paul) we brought 2 cases half the price of Heineken in the BVI's but are utter rubbish. However they have been consumed regardless that they tasted like Bilge Water. We put out an all ships for beer, but it appears our VHF has a range shorter than throwing!  However we put few messages in a few bottles with our Satellite phone number saying we were an all-female yacht desperate for male company. Amazingly our phone has not stayed silent since although callers were a bit disappointed when these old blokes answered saying they must have dialled the wrong number. We have managed to arranged a rendezvous with the good ship "BEER TANKER" for additional supplies !  

David (aka Mr Gestapo), who is normally as vigilant as a Meer Cat on Steroids, fell asleep at the rendezvous at the critical moment and the vessel sailed straight past us, Tony and Paul had no luck trying to make contact with the crew by our accustomed stone throwing technique ! 

Last night after weeks of ridiculing David's Meer Cat watch regime, steadfastly maintaining a 110% vigil for Jelly Fish, Flying Fish, UFO Invaders or 20,000 ton cargo vessels he spotted a vessel too late and we nearly became victims of a potential hit and run felony. The culprit was on a collision course with "Diatonic", whether we turned to starboard or port !!!!  We therefore put into practice our sail winding technique (panicked) and did 3 or 4 360 degree turns. This alarmed them and must have considered us a flying saucer (UFO) since they quickly scarpered with lot of bad language on the VHF!  We think this technique can prevent yachts being bullied by larger vessels  and have drafted a letter to the RYA to ask for inclusion in their "Rules of the Road".

We are becalmed 3 days away from Horta and indeed screwed - no wind and none predicted for days. Fuel is now the liquid occupying our attention - the thought of a week at sea in the doldrums, without a beer is more than we can bear - so we set out to find a solution. Luckily we managed to dig out an old readers digest book under the skippers bunk, in between the playboy and gardeners weekly magazines, which had an article on making bio-fuel from old vegetables. David volunteered, but we explained human vegetables were not suitable!  We sacrificed our chip butties and used our remaining potatoes to create the Bio-Fuel and think it might see us home. The disadvantage is that we smell like an old fish and chip shop.

We have received offers of assistance however from the president of the Diatonic Fan Club. Mary who we suspect has just got out of ReHab and her warden Jenny have Hi-Jacked an RAF Chinook with a Pasta Bake in tow, and are heading in our general direction. Once in sight we will start our communication regime of throwing stones. Just to let you know Mary we are definitely going to win this race mainly cuz we need the beer.

The sea is like a millpond and just short of a mirror - changes in the sea state are amazing and can never be taken for granted on a  trans-Atlantic passage.

Paul decided to go swimming with the dolphins, who must have considered him a UFO since they instantly swam away and not considered worth saving. Diatonic continued to make 6.5 knots east mostly under engine to try to find some wind.  Depressingly we would like to confirm categorically that we (suspect) we will shortly take second place from "THOR VI" but still trying hard. 

The Three Amigo's