336 hours, two weeks, 2600 miles. One book read, ten hours of good sleep, circa 80 chocolate bars and 1000 tea bags consumed. Miles to go, approximately 300. Conversation left with the crew, limited. Estimated arrival, Tuesday morning (local time).

Despite the sleep deprivation, dodgy meals and distinct lack of booze on board, as a crew we have managed to stay remarkably positive (or at least we have given up complaining) and remain united through our eclectic range of music, universal love of tea and obsession with not racing. Either that or Stockholm syndrome has finally kicked in.

The food situation is now semi-critical (in terms of quality at least, in terms of quantity we have enough to keep us going to Australia). Our fresh food supply consists off five well seasoned oranges and two extremely suspect cucumbers. The fridge is largely margarine, cheese and Diet Coke. Recipe ideas welcome. Meal preparation consists of routing around in various hiding places on the boat finding suspect cans of suspect edibles. Delicacies of canned octopus, pickles and other such delights are now daily dietary norms.

In other news, we have had a friend for the last couple of days, a boat the same make as ours but a much ‘sportier’ version (although I’m not quite sure how you can make a thirteen tonne caravan ‘sportier’) called Freedom. What has ensued is a Pirates of the Caribbean style dramatic chase (minus the guns, cannons, swords, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley and healthy pile of gold). While I can assure you that the cast of Nina is no less well renowned, we sadly have yet to find any treasure and as of yet no arguments have broken out into sword fighting. We are of course not racing but, by chance, this culminated in a major sail change five minutes after they did ... completely unrelated I promise.