As forecast, the wind has veered which is pushing us south of our ideal line across the Elliot Brown Ocean Sprint (EBOS). It has also built to a near-gale with stronger gusts so we are very tippy-up-sideways at the moment. The swingometer in Nasdaq's Nav Station only reads up to 45 degrees (obviously not designed for a Clipper 70 upwind!) so I don't know our true angle of heel, but from where I'm wedged in for typing I can see waves through the deck hatch.

Like jet pilots or astronauts training in a centrifuge, gravity becomes exaggerated under these conditions and simple everyday tasks require some serious balance and willpower to complete. Getting out of a low-side bunk is as hard as not falling out of one on the high-side, dressing oneself is a feat of agility, cooking for 17 is a major accomplishment (thanks for the carbonara Hannah Grainge and Johnnie Cole), and as for using the heads ... maybe TMI?

The crew are discovering reserves of determination for living, and are doing their best to keep the boat racing. Don't underestimate this group of people.

We had a comedy moment during a sail change last night - picture the scene: boat on her ear and slamming off five-metre waves, pitch dark sky with horizontal rain and spray, six crew on the foredeck wrestling down a recalcitrant Yankee 2 in gale-force gusts ... and suddenly an outbreak of hysterical giggling as Damien (the do/don't dater) Egan and Phil "Henri Lloyd" Wilkinson start slapping each other around the face with dead flying fish that had become wedged in the deck gear. Sometimes it's the little things that make a difference ...

Cheers,
Rob.