Having slept well (thanks to the drugs) I feel quite normal at 2 am when Mike wakes me up. My watch is uneventful. The only commercial traffic that I see passes miles away and causes me no hassle.
When Mike comes on watch I decide to see if there are enough drugs still in my system to let me get off to sleep, and discover, happily, that there are, managing to get another few hours.
Voyageur is now within sight of us, on our starboard beam. It’s good to have some company after all this time of being alone. There has been discussion while I was asleep about the weather and how to deal with the problem of getting to Richards Bay before the bad stuff hits. We are going to continue as far west as we can before conditions dictate that we turn south or south west. The wind has picked up enough for us to sail nicely, although the sea is a bit on the lumpy side.
I make some lovely cabbage cooked in butter flavoured with garlic, chilli, anchovies and rosemary (good old Jamie Oliver) and open one of the tins of Confit de Canard. It’s all very yummy.
During the afternoon the wind starts to pick up, and eventually the nice 20 to 25 knots has turned into a lively 25 to 30 knots. Mike takes in some of the genoa then decides it’s time to take a second reef in the main. Just as we finish, a huge wave comes over the side of the boat missing me by seconds.
I talk to Susan over the VHF. We are both fed up and long for this leg of the journey to be over.
Within half an hour the wind has continued to increase so much that Mike goes out to take the main down completely and has just finished doing so when another wave comes over and drenches him. He could win a wet tee shirt competition!
Voyageur and ourselves are now following the same course direct to Richards Bay. We have gone as far west as conditions will allow and need to head south west. By 9 pm the wind is 30 to 35 knots with gusts over 40 knots. Mike takes the genoa in even more and we both prepare to sleep in the salon. I don’t think either of us will get much sleep tonight but at least with the speed we are doing (9 to 10 knots) we should be in early tomorrow morning, safely in the marina before the really bad weather hits.
I decide to go and lie down. I know I won’t sleep anyway as the wind is now 40 to 45 knots. Mike goes out yet again and reduces the genoa is a size that can’t possibly do anything but our speed hardly reduces. How can that be possible?
Then the really impossible happens. In a violently heaving sea, with crashing all around me and water coming through the hatch above me, I fall asleep.
Our position is: 28 deg 37 min S, 33 deg 32 min E
Distance so far: 17857 nautical miles
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