13:46.7N 57:30.8W

Monday 3^rd & Tuesday 4^th Jan

Another rather uneventful day apart from the long succession of thick black clouds and their intense downpours and strong gusts.

There is nothing you can do as they ponderously bear down on you from upwind and we were reduced to tracking them on the radar and guessing how lucky we might or might not be!

[Sarah:] Poor Rob was exceptionally unlucky at one stage.   We had spotted a huge squall heading our way with a very clearly defined edge, beyond which was a torrential downpour flattening the sea and changing the colour from the usual deep blue to murky khaki.   Rob was hiding inside – it was a first:  very nasty weather on Sarah’s watch! – he was despatched post haste to grab the camera.  He then nimbly zipped up the companionway steps completely forgetting he had shut the hatch across because of the rain.  His head is already pretty battered but this was the mother of all collisions, not only opening up a horrible graze/cut but giving his neck whiplash and shortening him by several inches – he even got nearly five minutes sympathy!   We can only hope that the photo, which he heroically still took, is worthwhile and captures the fact that I was still sat in sunshine on one side of the cockpit while the heavens opened on the other side.

Progress was pretty slow as the wind barely exceeded 15 knots other than in the squalls and again we only covered around 110 miles in the full 24 hours.

As the sun set we chatted to S-F about their plans for the night as we had just got to within 2 miles of them at this point. They planned to continue as before, simply sailing as fast as they can on as good a course as they can manage and then hope to make their way back to the rumb line during the following day if the wind shifts allow. So we opted to reef our sails down again so that we would not surge ahead and disappear into the distance.

Clearly Neptune had decided in the night that we have been having far too easy a time so far as gradually the wind picked up through the hours of darkness. Nothing dramatic in terms of wind strength and the direction remained good, but what changed for the worse were the sea conditions. By the middle of the night, sleep was very hard to come by and being on watch was no more restful! The issue once again is the short chaotic swell that runs counter, or at least at an angle to the main massive rollers. This sets up a mass of confusion and Serafina was being bucked and tossed around like a small toy, reminding us just how vulnerable we are out here in the open ocean. Almost no position is comfortable or particularly secure in all this and we are both looking forward to some respite and a half decent snooze!

By dawn we were making good speed through the water (6+ knots) but now found that we also had a counter current and so our speed over the ground was merely 5.5 knots. All rather frustrating and slightly depressing with the end now just 280 miles away.

Gradually during Tuesday the wind and the seas died down and by and large we had quite a restful 12 hours although S-F did get lashed by one particularly enormous rainstorm.

We decided around 4.00pm to have showers off the back of the boat as per usual and I went first and Sarah decided following her ablutions to sit on the bottom step and trail a foot in the warm sea, wishing she could be trailed from the back but we were going too fast with no intention of taking sails down for this. She then eventually came back up on deck and as she turned to replace the gate across the open push-pit, she saw the first sign of sea life (apart from the flying fish) for over a week. She called me over and together we stood and studied the unmistakable grey malevolent mass that was a sizeable shark, barely 2 metres behind us, cruising effortlessly down the face of the following waves, keeping an easy pace with us. It remained there for a minute or two and we were too enthralled to grab a camera or do anything but stand and stare. It remained barely beneath the surface of the water with its distinctive tail breaking the surface from time to time. We rather assume it was attracted by our tow generator. This is a stainless steel rod with plastic propeller fins which we tow behind us. It rotates as we sail along and in turn it turns the rope that connects it to a small turbine which generates a modest amount of ‘free’ electricity. There are plenty of tales of these devices being attacked by sharks who are drawn to its flashing shinny movement. Steve on S-F has now told me that it for this reason that he has painted his one black! Certainly an aggressive shark would make short work of the plastic blades.   Sarah is rethinking swimming opportunities.

The wind now died away to less than 10 knots and both boats faced a dilemma. We were about 230 miles from Barbados and as we are only prepared to arrive in daylight we had now to consider the timing of the rest of  the trip. We were barely managing 3.5 knots which was no good at all as all our calculations showed that we needed to average just over 5 knots to get this spot on. (We collectively agreed that we did NOT want to spend Thursday night at sea.) So we all concurred that if the wind remained light, we would have to motor sail for as long as was necessary to maintain the 5 knot average and make landfall on Thursday afternoon.

We furled away our headsails and started up the engine and headed into the night as did S-F. Of course that was all it took for the forces of nature to wake up again and over the next few hours I got drenched in a huge and dramatic downpour, but Chris on S-F seemed to suffer even worse poor thing and was soaked to the skin in a sustained cloudburst that rendered her waterproofs useless.

The wind picked up and we were soon back sailing again and sped through the night at speeds of 6 and 7 knots which was very enjoyable and surprisingly restful we felt. It has put us ahead of the average, but by Wednesday morning we still had 140 miles to go.