This is our last day of this voyage, we should arrive at St Helena tonight. It has been quite misty but at 49 miles off we have been able to make out the island's vague shape on the horizon. Shame that we will be arriving in the dark as we are expecting to get to the mooring field at about 21:00 and the glorious moon we have had with us will not have risen by then.

The fishing prospects seem more hopeful as we near St Helena's continental shelf, we've caught nothing for the last 10 days. The line is out with an old double squid lure on a wire trace. There is nothing about even at this close range, no fishing boats or other vessels but the island becomes clearer as the day warms up, its rocky that's for sure.

A loud rattle of the fishing reel and the line goes drum tight, suddenly there is a leap from the water and a massive fish rears up making a perfect arc and with its mouth splayed like a giant beak. It must be a sail fish, it looks like an angry heavy weight boxer and I start to panic – how can such a fish be landed? It is too big, too strong and will damage the boat with its thrashing. I shout for help from Chris who appears just as it plunges leaving a great foaming trail. Panic over, the line goes slack, it's off having broken not the line but the wire trace which is quite a feat and no doubt due to its acrobatics. A great feeling of relief but regret that the poor creature has a fish hook to carry about until it falls out or rusts away.

Consulting our fish bible we discover that this fish, with its classic arching leap, crested back and distinctive mouth shape, is a blue marlin not a sail fish which do not live in the Atlantic. The blue marlin is the top sports fish both for its size and fighting behaviour. We are glad it escaped as apparently they fight so hard that they are often dead by the time they are hauled in. Our fishing gear isn't designed for that sort of fishing so both parties have had a lucky escape!

The line is reset with a less colourful squid this time and its not long before the reel rattles and a mahi mahi (also called dolphin fish or dorado) is hauled on board. A perfect size that will last 4-5 days. After the catching comes the less pleasant despatching then the filleting and packing with some into a marinade for tonight. This has been a big addition to our fresh food stores.

Seeing the island from such a distance makes arrival seem like a long, drawn out affair. We work up the east coast which is rocky and barren, no signs of habitation apart from an increasing number of birds and a pod of dolphins which greet us briefly. Then along the north coast as the light starts to fail and round to James Bay just below the North West headland of Sugar Loaf Point. The cliffs tower large and dark in the failing light but soon we pass the loom of the light house and the harbour lights at Jamestown start to appear. The supply ship, RMS St Helena, is in and ablaze with lights which snatch our night vision but once past it we can make out a few yachts. Although dark, a welcoming yellow buoy stands out looking good and strong, Gryphon 11 is quickly moored up. There is a very slight swell but not the dreaded heaving rollers that we have read can make mooring here a miserable affair. It's peaceful. We have made aIt's peaceful, safe arrival at St Helena.