Position 33 47.39N 42 37.1W

Thursday 21^st May

More good progress through the night, and this morning we’ve actually been able to head direct to the waypoint for a few hours, so every mile we make over the ground is real progress – 646 to go at noon today. The current wind is SSE, which means that we’re sailing upwind, fairly close hauled although with a bit of allowance to help punch through the waves. The wind and the squally weather has been driven by a trough spinning out from the low we circumnavigated over the last few days, though it does seem that we might be coming through it. The nice element will be lovely weather, the disadvantage being that the wind will drop as we near the Azores high. It’s been an interesting couple of days. The sailing is exhilarating, and the mood very positive as we run down the miles, but a permanent 25/30 degrees of heel makes life pretty interesting. Six hours of the day pass on watch, helming the boat. This has been fun, good sailing, excellent wind, an easy balanced wheel and the feel of real progress. At night the focus is on the faint red glow from the compass, trying to steer within ten degrees or so of the optimum course, with an eye on the wind direction looking for lifts or headers. It’s easy to wedge in against the heel, and the boat thrashes upwind delivering fairly frequent buckets of water. Very occasionally she decides to give a particularly lumpy wave the what for, and a couple of hundred gallons of water laced with foam surge along from bow to stern, with twenty gallons or so leaping over the spray-hood and over the helmsman – remarkably refreshing. Meanwhile, below the off watch guys are getting what passes for proper.rest. Let’s set the scene. Your bed is about two foot six wide, with cushions one side and a lee cloth the other to stop unplanned exits. It’s tilted at thirty degrees, and every second or so lifts rapidly under you, then retreating just as fast, so that momentary weightlessness is followed by a rapid descent and a firm push into the cushion beneath; the process then repeats itself around eighteen hundred times an hour with occasional larger leaps for extra entertainment. Meanwhile, around two feet from the left ear, some chap has a large hose attached to a fire hydrant which he directs back and forth along the wall outside, while one beefy chum essays to beat an entrance with a large lump of wood and another rattles the metal gate. After a few days of this, it’s remarkable what tiredness will overcome. Personal hygiene’s another matter – the bathroom has the same degree of fairground motion, any washing water doing its best to soak everything but the required area. Pull the plug and the water disappears with a satisfying gurgle, only to fountain back as Neptune rejects this microscopic pollution.....and then there’s the heads, but let’s not go there. Any progress round the inside of the boat has to be planned like a route up a rock face, foothold here, handhold there, and then it all moves, the plan disintegrates and a piece of the boat administers correction with a sharp blow to the ribs or a dunt on the backside. Ah well, it must be time to plan an assault on the galley and make tea, now, where do we start.

Knot of the day: Wall knot   Saying of the day: Donkey’s breakfast

Photo op at top of mast during yesterday's fun - Irie and Atlantic some way below