Race 3 - Day 8
Crew Diary - Race 3 Day 8: Cape Town to Fremantle
08 November

I imagine at home, when you check your Race Viewers, that you are wondering what we are doing in the Southern Ocean. You've scarcely left Africa after over a week, Madagascar longitudes still to cross. What are you doing? Reading? Partying?

Well the problem is that, like leaves on the line, we've had the wrong kind of wind since we left Cape Town, and we are working very hard indeed for our meagre progress. At the moment we are close hauled, beating into moderately strong Easterlies, coming from the direction we want to go in. We are having to tack frequently and these are not fresh, warm winds from Australia; their last port of call was definitely Antarctica as they are so cold. Occasionally the boat slams as it drops off the top of a wave and lands like a 50-ton sledge hammer in the trough below. At the helm it gives us plenty of chance to try our anti-slamming techniques.

At other times the wind has been weak but coming from the west, which would seem to be ideal, however winds directly from behind our desired direction are not much use either; the boat doesn't like them. The need to be 40 degrees off your stern to get the sort of angle that will make your spinnaker behave; so we have spent hours, going very slowly, trying to manage an uncooperative spinnakers in light winds.

So we are longing from strong steady winds from the North, South, North West or South West. That's not much to ask, is it? Winds that will also build the seas up nicely into big ocean rollers. We saw some of those a couple of days ago: the broken, choppy and fractious waves had finally organised themselves into ordered ranks of waves the size of two storey houses - some with roofs on as well. They were beautiful and awesome to watch, but, you've guessed it, they were coming from the wrong bloody direction!

One day we'll get the winds and the waves we want and you'll see some dramatic progress on Race Viewer. Meanwhile, there is still beauty to be experienced. On deck at dawn this morning, at the helm, the remote beauty of the place struck me. I'll be here for another three weeks but am unlikely to experience this ocean again, with the pure, clear air, icy winds, sheer waters and Albatrosses skimming the waves with such leisurely ease, the sunlight catching the spray from the bows as we plunge into each wave and raise a glittering cloud of diamonds.

It's a very tough life above and below deck, but we are conscious of the beauty and privilege of being here.