After curry soup for supper, which bore a suspicious resemblance to the fare that Mike had served for lunch, we had a gentle night's sailing under the twistle rig.  Good, but not that good, winds and no squalls.  In the morning, after we were all up, we had a freshwater downpour which was refreshing. 

  We have described the ubiquitous presence of the bucket in boat life but yesterday, when the better bucket was damaged and leaking but functional for at least some tasks (but not the most important one) Richard was moved to write "if you pee in this bucket, you are peeing on your feet" - we were apprehensive.  Tragedy struck this morning when the other bucket was lost overboard by Billy.  We considered going back around to fetch it, in a man-overboard manoeuvre, but decided this was unlikely to succeed as the handle had come off.  We are left with one patched-up bucket which we treat very carefully.  (Is it just me, or has an irrational bond been forged between the crew and their bucket? - Tom Hanks and his football (Castaway) springs to mind.  Let's just hope the "better bucket" makes it W.W)

  We have sailed gently on through the day and passed the 50W line of longitude, though that still leaves us with a fair way to go.  We have had a civilised Sunday with fresh-baked bread and scotch pancakes.

Things run out of:
Clean tea towels

Breakages:
Bucket