Last night...hanging in there

Thursday 13th December

It's now 22.45 and Val & I are on watch together for 3 hours until 0100. There are now less than 200 miles to go and the fish killing goes on! We have 2 lines out and around dusk there is usually at least a nibble. Tonight there was a bite on 1 line, but he got off as we pulled him in (a dorado). Then the other line hooked a small tuna - about 35cm. He is now 4 fillets in the fridge. At the same time a large dorado hit the 1st line. It was 1m+ long and a real fighter. He got off just as he was being taken from the water.

The weather just doesn't let up on us - more strong winds and big seas all day long and now on into the night as well. We have the 2 jibs out, rolled up to the size of Optimist dinghy sails, and we're still doing almost 6 knots! The rolly seas remind us a lot of bog roads!

There is another boat about 10 miles away and we have had several chats with them on the radio, they have had similiar problems to us and also have only a jib out. They are also giving out about the weather!

Rob & I did the last refuelling today - it's a bit rough for it, but it has to be done. We still have 2 20L cans of fuel left, so all is well on that front. The main engine tank has about 200L in it as well, so we could motor all the way in now.

Very descriptive writing from Barry (one of the crew) - gives you an idea of the weather and sea conditions -

The Atlantic swell has really picked up over the last few days as steadier trade wind conditions have become established. BlueFlyer seems to be tolerated, for the moment, as these vast dark cobalt hills roll under us every 10 seconds, with the regularity of a metronome. Our stern is dwarfed by each approaching wall, towering 3 metres above our heads. It almost seems possible to touch the wall, but just before you reach out, our stern is lifted dramatically to the top of the crest, we accelerate down it's face and our stern is slewed sideways as we pivot over the crest and slide down into the following trough. The surface of the water requires little encouragement from the wind to ripple or cast spume into the air, only to be tamed by the black sheets of rain that roll in with the squalls, bringing an eerie calm to the seascape before the washing machine begins its next cycle...