Firstly, and I would like to think, for our more long-running readers, traditionally, I must apologise for the rather long delay in updating this page, especially when it may have seemed that we were marooned at sea, with no power or email capabilities. The truth, rather predictably for anyone who has ever met us (well, anyone who has ever met me and knows that I write the blog), was that having got in almost exactly a week ago now, shore living was rather too attractive to pass up for long enough to write a blog that would do justice to all we've been up to and this is obviously a bit of a self-propagating problem. And so, I hope, if you look closely enough, you will find a suitable apology in the preceding paragraph and we can all move on. There. (By the way, if you hear anybody saying that lack of posting has been due to laziness and a string of cracking hangovers, ignore them, as they are obviously confusing us with someone else)

So, what exactly has happened since I last wrote (cue Fosh looking up previous post to see when it was and what it contained)? Well, critics of the third Pirates of the Caribbean film will not be disappointed that we never actually watched the aforementioned due to the skipper's forgetfulness ( he never put the film on the laptop) and the fickle nature of the weather, which dictated someone had to helm for the evening on which we had pencilled in the film. I was slightly miffed to say the least, but at least I had half of a Fray Bentos Steak and Ale Pie - loverly.

There was a time on the Sunday, last week (16 December) when the wind cruelly dropped, just before we sighted land and we were a bit worried that we were not going to make it in for the Sunday. These fears proved unfounded, however, and due to our extreme pace in light winds, we actually made it accross the finish line at twenty past ten local time. The finishing of the race was, rather peculiarly, one of the most tricky parts of the race for us, as it was the first time we had seen artificial lights in such abundance for over three weeks and became a little disorientated by the fact that not only were there other people around us, but there was alo a whacking great bit of land with lots of sharp rocks to worry about. We nearly missed the finish line (remarkably easy to do if you can't see it in the dark and forgot to check its exact location) and suddenly, as we were in the middle of searching for it, we were surrounded by about four dinghies, all whizzing around and all taking photographs. A little disconcerting for two people whose only human contact had been with one another for three weeks (and of a dubious quality at that - we were on minimal power mode, which involves spending as little effort as possible on polite conversation and pleasantries as possible).

We had a fantastic welcome when we finally reached our designated berth - boats on all side with cockpits full of people standing and applauding us, conches, car horns and foghorns being blown, as well as a flare being let off and about 70 people actually on the dock to come and shake our hands. Cold rum punches and beer were quite possibly the things I was most glad to see and when it became apparent that we were berthed right next to a bar, I realised just how happy I was to be in and back on dry land.

This feeling was increased all the more by the friends made in Gran Canaria coming to find us and buying us beer, lots of beer - fantastic. Special mention should go to Sunke and Judith who even came out in a water taxi to greet us on the water and then proceeded to entertain us even after the bar had closed. My memories of the evening are not exactly crystal clear, but I do recall that it took a while to regain my land legs and I kept bumping into things - definitely the change of not being on the boat.

There followed a glorious day of doing nothing except sitting in a cafe, eating proper cooked food, drinking a variety of ice cold alcoholic beverages and being made to feel like we had actually done something rather remarkable. From our vantage point we were actually overlooking the boat and watched with amusement as a continuous stream of people stopped and gaped at Ariel, seemingly disbelieving that we had come across on her. We felt slightly guilty in not talking to them all, but we also feel guilty in actively seeking the praise that they all seemingly want to bestow upon us. After such an action-filled day (I must have moved 20ft in about 5 hours) we were whisked off by the skipper's family to a very nice hotel for three nights.

Never has something seemed so tiring at the same time as being luxurious before, but we both felt ourselves slipping into a kind of lethargy for a couple of days rounded off by a fabulous all over body massage. This was a little way down the coast, but we returned to the hotbed of activity that is Rodney Bay just in time for the ARC prize-giving on Friday night. Now I'm a big fan of any event that has an open bar, but when that event starts at four o' clock in the afternoon and proceeds to present one with two prizes, then it may just be the most brilliant event ever (I feel the credit for both prizes actually belongs to the skipper, but they called me up to the stage as well and I'm in all the photos, so I'll take some as well). Obviously a party that started at four o'clock in the afternoon, offers me praise and gives me free alcohol, can only go one way and so it was that by ten o’ clock in the evening I was dancing on the lawn in front of the steel band having rather a fun time and encouraging anybody who would listen that they should be doing the same. I had success in one respect – that people were having a good time, I did not persuade many that they should dance. I am not, surprisingly, that good a dancer. As if this were not enough excitement for one evening we proceeded from the prize-giving to the ‘jump up’ in Gros Islet, which is basically a massive local street party. Memory of this event includes food and more dancing in multiples and no discernable order, yet from the way I felt next morning I think it’s a fair assumption that I more than joined in the spirit.

As if to cure the hangover (hahahahahahahaha) we went to the duty free shopping outlet yesterday – for future notice, shopping does not cure hangovers, it is, in fact, on Fosh’s official list of hangover causes – do not do it. The only function the trip performed was to instil in me the fear of ever having to buy jewellery.

Almost everyone we have encountered and spoken to, be they connected with boats or not, has been very generous in expressing their congratulations and being impressed at what we have done. However, I feel I must, contrary to my boastful nature though it obviously is, point out that we are nothing special and, though we have obviously achieved something impressive, we in no way feel that we are any different from the rather scruffy, recent graduates, we were before. We would however, like to thank all those who have passed on their congratulations to us and direct them to our fundraising website (www.justgiving.com/timothyfosh). After all, we made the crossing for charity and the best way to show any feelings you may have is to give, however little, to our supported charity. Thanks in advance and many apologies for the almost sombre note I seem to have struck. Anyway, never fear, for I’ll be back writing rubbish soon.

Lots of love and Happy Christmas to Everyone.

Foshy