Lonely sits the hunter, waiting in the West
Praying on our Easting, two degrees less
Six One Six to go and Eighty Four the making
Five Three Two or so, a podium for taking
Three days South to ride, all stealth taken
One wind hole, two gybes, everything forsaken
Port side heavy, starboard light ship
Steady helm, rolling swell, all sail flyin’
Relentless is the ocean race, persistent is the clock
Counting down South latitude, tick tick tock
Win or lose the wind blows, fair or not
The Devil takes your chances, thickening the plot
Fortune turns the wheel of fate, spinning to its rest
Playing out our strategy, daring at our best
Daring is the hunter, sailing in the West
Bearing down on Punta del Este
Guy et Hugues and The Crew