39o50S 35o14E

It's dragging on a bit now! Four and a half weeks at sea is long enough in my book and I think everyone is looking forward to getting in. The hot chocolate has run out as has the mayonnaise, the peanut butter and most of the treats - all those things that brought a little ray of sunshine into a cold damp yacht. When you first set out it would be self destructive to think of the end, or the last days, of the leg. But, as we enter the last five days or so you can't help it. When you have five days to go a change in the weather (meaning lighter winds) can effectively double the estimated time of arrival so there is a much more instant reaction to such information. The arrival of the position reports also has a more significant effect as we realise there is less and less time to make miles. Position wise, we'd be happy for the race to end now. We would have third place, a good position after so much heavy weather sailing, and we'd be in the lead overall with two points separating us and Spirit of Sark in second place in the leg and overall. BG SPIRIT are well back in the fleet and so would loose their overall first position and the three point lead they currently enjoy. But, as we witnessed, and benefited from, in leg two, anything can happen, regardless of how safe you think your position is. If Spirit of Sark passes Imagine It. Done. and we don't, only one point will separate us overall and that's providing Pindar and Team Stelmar don't get past us. These are the things that up the stress levels in the last few days. The weather is looking ok and has, so far, followed forecasts. Last night we had about 15 knots with heavy squalls topping out at 40 knots. We watch for these on the radar and they show up as bright yellow areas on the screen. The squalls are large rain clouds, often in the middle of an area of clear skies that are dumping their cargo of rain. The rapid cooling of the air causes strong winds down and out from all sides of the clouds. Science aside it means you are happily sailing along with sails nicely trimmed and the on-the-rail conversation centring around the delights waiting for you in Cape Town. Suddenly, the wind changes, builds, builds and builds some more. We hold on tight and prepare to drop sails as rain blasts across the deck. Then it all goes quiet as we sit directly under the cloud. Then just when you think it's over the wind builds again, this time in the opposite direction, and you are blasted out the other side. The thought of first place is a tantalising possibility and we are giving 100% into getting the most out of BP Explorer. We are due for a win and it would be so sweet to get it on this, the most difficult leg. It will soon be over and we'd know for sure we'd done everything we could if our first beer was holding the leg winners trophy.

The email system has worked out it's bugs and is once again delivering messages from our friends and family again (I should add including several from my brother, thanks bro). John Stewart would just like me to point out that he is washing with baby wipes just not showering.

John Bass

41' 55S 39' 27E

This time next week we will, hopefully, be busily dragging out the mooring lines and fenders which for the past five weeks have been consigned to the lazarette. (A storage locker at the aft of the yacht behind the wheel -Ed.) Very soon now we will be dropping the mainsail, donning our green t-shirts and, perhaps, the men will be scraping off their Southern Ocean beards before meeting their loved ones again (at least we hope so, for their sake!)

For now, though, we are ploughing into the beginnings of our final gale, which is set to build over the next 12 hours. We had a mini-gale yesterday, followed by a calm, so the sail-change teams have been making that trip up to the foredeck time and time again over the last 24 hours or so. Sleeping the sleep of the dead in between each tiring shift, we are counting down the hours to the arrival of some southerly winds which look set to take us screaming all the way to Cape Town with the kites up. Fingers crossed that we do not get caught in the notorious 'parking lot' in sight of Table Mountain, where windless bubbles often see yachts parked up and eeking their way inch by painful inch towards that longed-for pint. This said, if the familiar piece of bungee that is once again stretched between ourselves and Spirit of Sark does not make a decided pull in our direction soon, it may be that flukey winds and light airs could well work in our favour as we approach the finish. We are doing all we can to chip away at the distance between ourselves and the lead boats - not without some success - but as soon as we have picked away another couple of miles, they seem to pull away from us once again; Imagine it. Done. currently lying at a distance of 35 miles and Spirit of Sark just under half that at 16.5.

It is hard to think of any celebration now except the finish and hopefully a podium one), but we do have the 1,000-mile barrier to the waypoint to cheer about later today - truly the beginning of the end. Plus (if we can remember where we hid it), there is a bottle of Jura single malt to enjoy once we have left the Roaring Forties behind us for good; perhaps this will be a good time to reflect on just how far we have come and what we have achieved since our first tentative team training sail together last spring. It feels like a lifetime ago!

Naomi Cudmore

42o36S 42o02E

A battle is taking place out here at the moment, a royal battle between us and the two yachts in front of us, Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. We are, in the main, looking forward but we still have to cover our rear from attack by Pindar and Team Stelmar who, if not in firing range, still have us in their long range sights. Every watch the trimmers at the shrouds check and re-check the trim and scan the horizon for a glimpse of our old enemy Spirit of Sark.

Analysis of the fleet positions show we are making gains on them and keeping our pursuers at bay but it is not enough, we want to see the whites of their eyes. We sailed into the predicted gale in the early hours of this morning and, with winds reaching 37 knots, the orange storm staysail and no 3 yankee were hoisted once more in anger. But, by midday today the winds have eased and the yellow staysail is back up. We are currently sailing in 20-24 knots and it's only a matter of time before we drop the three and go to the number two yankee. That said, there is still a lot of water coming over the deck and the occasional bone-shuddering crash as we leap some giant waves.

This log comes to you by Telaurus, a system whereby e-mails and voice calls are sent via the Iridium satellite system and is one of the many communications systems we have on BP Explorer. Unfortunately, today, the Telaurus e-mail system has gone down and we are left without e-mail for 3-6 hours. This would not normally present much of a problem however, we also use the same system to receive weather updates and fleet positions. That e-mail to auntie telling of her brave nephew's exploits on the high seas can wait but 3-6 hours is a long time in ocean yacht-racing and not knowing what the other yachts are doing or if a weather system is moving is quite frustrating. (All Telaurus systems are now back up and running! - Ed)

Thankfully it doesn't happen that often and all things considered it's pretty remarkable that we can be in the remotest and most inhospitable place on Earth and send that e-mail to auntie, indeed, we could even pick up the phone and call her. It is also a real treat when we receive e-mails of news from home or messages of support from our friends and family. So if you read this and haven't sent a message recently, go on, it'll make our day (This is specifically a hint to my little brother Stephen who hasn't e-mailed me in ages).

PS. Those following John Stewart's record attempt for the longest time without a shower will be interested to know that he is on day 31 (he basically hasn't had a shower since we left!) However he hasn't broken his record of 37 days yet.

John Bass

44o42S 46o19E

The last 24 hours have been pretty eventful on the BP Explorer scale it has to be said; as we approach what will hopefully transpire to be our last big gale of the leg (expected in the next day or so), we can celebrate breaking the 1,500-mile-to-Cape-Town barrier! Not only that, but last night's googah was followed by a spectacular wildlife display which more than made up for the bleak and empty water canvas which we have gazed upon for the last month. Until now its surface has been broken only by its own tempestuous waves, a couple of seals and an awful lot of kelp. As it turns out, however, there is life around us after all.

As Cop's watch exited the companionway for the 6-10 watch yesterday, they spied a whale some distance from the boat, repeatedly surfacing and diving at breakneck speed. As we all piled on deck to watch, the whale disobligingly exited the scene and we all trooped back downstairs to prepare for our bunks. Within minutes, however, a chorus of whoops and ooohs and ahhs drew us back on deck; there, literally right next to the boat to starboard, was a 40-foot sleek, grey form accompanying us effortlessly towards a misty sunset (these measurements have been verified by those with better spatial awareness than myself!). Within minutes there were two, and they re-appeaared time and time again, their heads rearing up through the grey waves to reveal a white underside, before they arched back below the surface once again, showing the small, upright pointed fins near their tails which have helped us to identify them as Sei whales (or, if not, then Fins).

The two Seis stayed close for quite a while, but they were undoubtedly in a rush. Like us, they had clearly decided not to hang around the Crozet Islands which now lie in our wake and slightly to the south of us. It seems like a sensible decision; the five islands and two reefs which make up the French-owned-and-occupied archipelago do not sound tempting! Characterised by cold, wet and cloudy weather, the islands endure rain for 300 days of the year, temperatures not exceeding 18°C and winds in excess of 100Km/Hr almost every third day. The 35 inhabitants who now live there are served by a Post Office, a church, a research station and memories concentrated largely on sealing on an immense scale and countless shipwrecks. A potted history of the islands makes interesting reading, but if our motley crew is going to get stranded anywhere right now it had better be in a Cape Town bar and nowhere else! We are on our way.
Naomi Cudmore

44' 56S 50' 26E

Happy Easter everybody! Unfortunately no long weekend holiday for the crew of BP Explorer. We suggested to David that it was an official bank holiday at home and that even the DIY stores would not be open but he was unrelenting so we soldier on. As it happens we have been the fastest boat over the last six hours averaging 9.6 knots and are making some impact on the general positions up front. The gains really are quite small in the last 24 hours though, as least smaller than we'd like. We have taken two miles out of Imagine It. Done but nothing out of Spirit of Sark who seem to be matching our efforts almost mile by mile. We have however, taken nine miles from Pindar and Team Stelmar but we are far from safe yet. Better news is the expanding gap between BG Spirit and us to get a good overall points result for this leg we need plenty of boats separating us so every mile added is a good one.


By the end of today we should have passed the Crozet Islands which are about 70 miles to the South of us, then it's only 1600 miles to Cape Town. The first of the layers has been shed as the temperatures, even at night, have got a bit warmer. During the day there is even some sunshine and the sunglasses are being dug out from deep within our Curver boxes in recognition of this fact. Yesterday we had the spinnakers out again and we flattened out but as I write this log the wind has come forward again and we are back to the familiar yellow sails and 28 degrees of heel. We are set to keep this point of sail for the next 24 hours. Giles Mackey, on Cops watch, has been doing an excellent job of picture taking however; it has highlighted a strange fact. It would seem that most of the fellas on Olly's watch are clean-shaven while those on Cop's have a fine thatch of facial hair. John Stewart claims it's because their watch are more macho, we are convinced that they are a bit shy of getting their chins cold. It is often the best indicator of whether someone has seized the opportunity, in the calm conditions, to take a shower. A possible explanation is that John is trying to beat his current record of over three weeks between soakings and has encouraged his watch to do the same. The exceptions are Stephen Allberry on Olly's watch with his wizard-like beard and Cop who is as smooth as a baby's bum. We have celebrated Easter in the customary fashion of chocolate Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies but I'm not convinced they were delivered by the enormous Albatross, with the eleven-metre wingspan, as mentioned in Naomi's log yesterday. She did, I'm sure, mean eleven feet. However, when it comes to Albatross delivering chocolate eggs to Challenge racing yachts why let facts get in the way of a good story.

John Bass

45 35S 55' 35E

Well, the message in a bottle which we sent off over the waves a couple of days ago has failed to turn up any new friends as yet. We remain as an island in this solitary sea - and not a soul have we spied on the horizon for what seems like a year! Our constant companion, however, is the wandering albatross who paints dark curves and hoops with the shadows of his fine wingtips upon the chameleon surfaces of the ocean. Our journey, however protracted, is as nothing compared to the epic seven to ten years that an albatross may remain at sea after leaving the nest. Mating for life, greying with age until the dark-brown feathers of his infancy turn the ancient white of a snow-filled sky, the albatross is the sailor's friend with a remarkable memory - returning, when he finally regains terra firma, to the island where he was born.

Here he will search for that special mate and take part in a unique and complex courtship dance, strutting gawkishly around the female as she returns the compliment and the pair bob and rattle their bills, with their eleven-metre wingspan shown off for all to see. Once the performance is over there is a general pointing of beaks in the direction of the heavens and a jubilant screaming match! Faithful parenting from both birds is required; they produce just a single precious chick every one to three years, and should one parent perish, the offspring will almost certainly die. They feed mainly on squid, octopus and cuttlefish, and will also make shallow dives for fish too - although other favourites include the galley rejects from passing vessels - a fact which has not gone unnoticed aboard BP Explorer!

Here on the pea-green boat we are very fond of our stunning winged companions - they light up the worst of any Southern Ocean day and still seem impressively huge however often they put in an appearance. So we would not dream of harming one. This is just as well, for according to folklore it was the albatross who bore the souls of dead mariners across the briny deep, and bad luck would plague any sailor who killed one for the rest of his days. For now, we hope that the only real use the albatross will play in our own epic trek is perhaps a small delivery of chocolate eggs for us to feast upon tomorrow! This seems like a very good alternative to the traditional Easter delivery man - because as any seasoned salt will tell you, our furry friends with the sweet noses and flashing white tails are deemed decidedly bad luck on a boat! One should never even utter the 'R' word, let alone spy one hopping along the deck. (We are saying nothing about the same nautical beliefs that are attached to the appearance of the colour green!) Happy Easter to one and all back home!

Naomi Cudmore

46 42 S 59 35 E

Dead calm! As we came on watch yesterday at 6pm the sea was like glass. Not quite the flat glass of a secluded lake but more the gentle rippled variety you might have in your bathroom window. The sky was blue and the sun was shining but it was still brisk - somewhere between a bit chilly and blimey! It's a bit brass monkeys out here. There was a little wind, gentle puffs of about 5 knots, but we could see more coming. Cops' watch said it had been much worse and they had experienced patches of no wind at all. At one point they went backwards, something we are becoming quite practised at recently. It begs the question if we are going backwards in a round the world yacht race that says it's going the wrong way, are we going the right way during these brief moments? The navigators suggest we ae not. As we sat huddled on the low side we watched as the puffs gradually got bigger and more frequent and pretty soon BP Explorer began to pull at her harnesses and lurch forward. The grip tightened on the helm and there was a sigh of relief, we were going again. We thought about the Genoa a couple of times and she was unflatteringly winched out of the sail locker and through the hatch like a fat lady being pulled out of a well. But as the wind rose she was left on deck and we stayed with the no 1 yankee. We were glad we waited because before long we were screaming along at 9 knots in 18 knots of wind and, by the end of the watch, we were thinking of putting up the number two. As usual the position reports are unlikely to be good reading after a slow afternoon and they showed that we'd lost ground to Imagine It. Done. but the damage wasn't as great with Spirit of Sark. We are finding it difficult at the moment to grapple miles off of the two leaders but we are hoping that by focusing on trimming and helming well an opportunity will present itself.

The boat has been rippling with reports of strange dreams this week and the on-deck conversations are strange to say the least. This leg has seen less sail changes than the previous southern ocean leg and as such there is a lot more conversation and suggested talking points to fill the time. The latest has proved both fun and somewhat frustrating. We have been trying to remember the theme tunes to TV shows. We belted them out one after another to start with but there are now fewer and fewer and we are suffering from brains full of 70s comedy and cop shows. Worse still there are a few shows that we nearly have but not quite. Like having the birdie song trapped in your head - a slow descent into madness is sure to follow.

John Bass

47 09 S 63 13 E

These are just some of the figures that define Day 26 of Leg Four:

19,401 (miles sailed since Portsmouth)
36 (the number of times we will have to get out of bed before the finish of this leg)
3 (the maximum number of showers enjoyed by each crew member in the last month),
4,891 (miles since the last pint),
915,840 (approximate number of waves crossed since Portsmouth),
2,147 (miles to the next pint),
190,800 (times that the heads have been pumped on the race so far),
and 15 (the number of mouthfuls it takes Cop to consume a cheesecake intended to serve 9).

And so our progress across the big blue is measured - the race involves a great deal of number-crunching as any seasoned sailor will tell you, and Cop's incredible capacity for fuel is no exception. Indeed, it is directly related to our performance!

Of course, another figure for the day is 9 (the number of Challenge yachts behind us). We would far rather this were 11, but according to our calculations, if everyone finished in their current positions, we would lie in first overall - which is not half bad. But the racing on this Global Challenge has been closer than ever before and no doubt final positions - quite possibly even podium places - will be decided on the last leg. So BP Explorer really could do with a few points extra in the bag and a leg win.

This morning's unpromising graveyard-hours start of cold drizzle and a moonless sky gave way, grudgingly, to a lovely dawn of muted gold, green and turquoise - and there is certainly a great deal more colour in our world than we have enjoyed over the past few weeks. Unfortunately, however, today's pretty heavens also presaged very light winds, so we can only pray that Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. are suffering the same fate right now. After our mysterious loss of form which culminated in our blind backwards-sailing kelp attack, we seem capable of holding our own once again and are back in that familiar territory of a mile gained here, a mile lost there. So we keep plugging away, eyes glued to the fickle weather and the oh-so-slowly diminishing distance to waypoint. At least for us the slogan is true - 'We ARE getting there!'

Naomi Cudmore

47o15S 66o07E

Finally! Waypoint Bravo and the Kerguelen Islands disappear in our wake.
Things didn't quite go to plan but then we did have an uneasy feeling that things might not go our way for the whole leg. All in all it's not too bad, third is still a good position within the fleet and with some 2266 miles to go we have plenty of time to catch up and reacquire our lead. Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. are about 20 miles in front and we now have someone to chase - always good for moral and the preservation of our fighting spirit. Talking of spirit, Joe and Warren smuggled onboard some surprise items to celebrate passing the waypoint. They thought it would be appropriate to bring something from as far north that they could find to mark being as far south as they had ever been. Warren came up with a litre bottle of Highland Park whisky, distilled in the most northern distillery on the Orkney Islands of Scotland. Joe produced 2.2 pounds of the finest Alaskan smoked salmon. There was certainly a party mood among the crew as they came off watch and dined on easily the finest food and drink we've had in the race so far. This morning the skies cleared and the sun shone. The now familiar yellow foulies were, for once, left in the locker as we went on deck in just our green mid-layers. For the first time in 3500 miles we had the spinnakers up, first the promo kite then the flanker. But, as the wind started to rise and the afternoon watch came on deck the flanker was dropped and we once again returned to the headsails. We've been racing along at over 10 knots but the Sun had now retreated behind its blanket of grey cloud and we have donned our foulies once more. More Dolphins have joined us but this time they are of the black and white variety and our ever-present companions of several Albatross, Shearwaters and a small flock of other sea birds swoop and glide behind us. Naomi got very excited last night when she saw an aeroplane. "It's just nice to see other people" she said. David borrowed my state of the art razor handle today (It vibrates!) and, arriving at my bunk clean shaven, was clearly overjoyed with the results. It really is the simple things out here you know, we're not going mad - honest!
John Bass

47o04S 71o49E

Why? Why? Why?

Everyone back at home must be wondering what on earth we are thinking of - hour by hour we have been losing ground to the rest of the fleet, and you would be forgiven for assuming that we have well and truly taken our eye off the ball. In fact, we are not holed away down below drinking rum and living it up; the pressure on deck has never been greater.

Just a few hours ago we rounded Waypoint Bravo in third - which is another of our objectives for the leg achieved (three cheers) - but the lead we held on to for so long has
slipped from our grasp. Well, the simple answer is that we are just as bewildered as our supporters must be by our apparent lack of form. We have been beating our brains, trying to work out what has been going wrong, and last night, with all other possibilities discounted, we decided to sail backwards for a while. Hove to, we attached the foreguy to the main and headed stern first for Australia. At the back of our minds had been the nagging suspicion that something was caught around the keel. There have been so many huge banks of kelp floating our way that this seemed a real possibility - and at night they are unavoidable. Whether or not there was anything there in need of dislodging time will tell, but for now David appears to be uninspired by the raft of treats which we will enjoy today in celebration of reaching the Kerguelen Islands.

At 6am boat time (1am GMT), the off-going watch was treated to a cooked breakfast of hash browns, beans, bacon and egg (dehydrated of course), all washed down with a drop of Jameson's, and later we have our champagne and crunchie bars. It is bittersweet though, we have to admit. We just cannot fathom it. Nothing has changed in terms of the way we do things, but we feel like we are trying to run through mud. At least the wakes of Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. (7.5 and 15.9 miles in front respectively) give us a real goal to focus on. We had begun to suspect that the waypoint existed in some other dimension, so slow was it in coming; but we know for sure that they are out there and we are heading their way as fast as we can.

There are 2,497 miles to go to Cape Town and the fat lady is not singing yet!

Naomi Cudmore

47' 49S 74' 51S

As we approach Waypoint Bravo, we are seeing more and more fragments of giant kelp, strands 20m long being swept eastwards by the Southern Ocean swell. This is a sure sign that we are passing to the leeward of the Kerguelen Islands, a small cluster of islands that straddle the Antarctic Convergence Zone. It's day 23 and we are 2,500 miles from Cape Town. The last couple of weeks have been non-stop gales of 30 - 45 knots and freezing temperatures. However so far, touch wood, we have not had a really scary Southern Ocean storm of 60 knots plus.

So, now that we are about two thirds of the way through our second Southern Ocean leg, how do some the crew feel about the experience so far? Despite, the cramped, cold and generally brutal conditions some of us are enjoying our Southern Ocean experience. As John Stewart put it, 'we didn't pay £27,000 to have a miserable time. We signed up to race around the world. The team camaraderie has been great and seeing things such as the Southern Lights in their full technicolor brilliance, pods of whales and the indescribable power and of the giant Southern Ocean rollers has made this adventure all the more worthwhile'.

For Goldie, this experience has left her with an overawing sense of the power of nature. Andrew, one of our helms agrees, 'helming has been truly exhilarating. We have been alternating the helms every 30 minutes, as there is a limit to how much cold, stinging spray and being knocked off your feet you can take. However, here I am, deep in the Southern Ocean steering a 72-foot racing yacht - I am living my dream!!'

Racing in the Southern Ocean is tough, but without that challenge none of us would have signed up. As Giles explains, 'There is little finesse to bashing into 40-foot waves; this leg is all about endurance and survival and so far we appear to be doing that quite well. However every so often, we climb a huge roller and surf down the other side at break neck speed. As we accelerate down the back of the wave I think, wow, this is awesome. I am one of the luckiest people alive!' Christian echoes these thoughts, 'when I am standing at the bow, it feels like I am on a different planet. The waves are incredible and should not be underestimated. Given a little respect, they let you pass and you feel like a conqueror'. The Southern Ocean is one of the wildest, untamed places on earth. It is the Mount Everest of sailing.

So hardship and sacrifice are part of the experience, but they do not dominate it. As Warren put it, 'I will only sail across the Southern Ocean once, but I will be telling my children about it for the rest of my life'. As always, Major has the last word and he sums up our feelings very well, 'The Southern Ocean is what the Global Challenge is all about and so far that challenge has not disappointed us'.

Giles Mackey

49' 51S 78' 51E

Sunday means another week gone, another week closer to that warm sunshine and, in the more immediate term, time to open another barrel of hot chocolate (18 raucous cheers). We usually run out by Thursday as we have rationed ourselves to a weekly allowance to avoid plunging into no-hot-chocolate despair before this ordeal is over. Other news on deck today includes sightings of large swathes of kelp - pretty boring you might think, but not so for the land-hungry would-be circumnavigator. The kelp must have come, we reason, from those elusive islands we keep rabbitting on about - we are nearly at Waypoint Bravo! Admittedly it has been the longest week in the history of the world but after tomorrow it will truly be the beginning of the end. Last night saw a particularly vicious sea putting the on-watch to the test as they changed for the umpteenth time to the storm staysail and this morning there are tired arms all round on the part of the foredeck team. On Olly's watch this now includes BP crew Warren, who has swapped watches with Alaska Joe so that they can both get to know the entire crew and hopefully egg us along with some new jokes.

Here on BP Explorer we wonder what our friends and family are seeing back at home on the website. If you are seeing our position in relation to Waypoint Bravo then you will be under the impression that we have lost our lead. On the computer in front of me, however, we are measuring our progress against the more meaningful distance to Cape Town and with this as our yardstick, we are still in the lead - so never fear! We have, however, had a somewhat slow six hours and have lost some ground, so we are really having to pull our finger out to hold on to that top spot as we begin the final fortnight's push.

Naomi Cudmore

49 56 S 81 02 E

Waypoint Bravo, that's what we are racing for now. It is something of a milestone in our trek across the Southern Ocean. We are hoping that when we pass it we can safely say the worst is over - at least we hope the worst is over. Another incentive to get there as quickly as possible it the promise of Champagne and ultra-large Crunchie bars which can incite a desperate crew to achieve almost anything. Apart from BG SPIRIT we are the most southerly boat and the fleet positions are probably showing us in second place. This is because we are positioning ourselves for Cape Town once we have passed the waypoint. We are hopeful that in a few days, once the fleet has rounded Bravo, we will be back in first place and looking good for the start of the two-week bit to the finish. We are now once again in the roaring forties but it is still very cold outside. As we enter our night watches there is something of a trade-off. On the one hand a clear sky means a fantastic display of the Southern Lights against a backdrop of stars, on the other, the lack of clouds means freezing temperatures and a watch where the maximum on-deck time is about 30 minutes. Standing at the cap shrouds trimming is a bit of an exciting affair as we dodge waves and freezing spray but 30 minutes of trimming is just a bit too much and so we stay as long as we can bear before crawling below to frantically wiggle fingers and toes back to life. Sailing has been made all the more difficult with the loss of our MkV TTS which was taken by a large wave over the deck. We have come to rely on this essential piece of equipment however we have cobbled something together that works, if not as efficiently. We are hoping that some friends and family visiting us in Cape Town will be able to bring a replacement. In contrast to the last Southern Ocean leg where spirits were far from high in the third week we are all still quite cheerful. We even come off some watches having enjoyed ourselves - not something we'll tell the Challenge Business of course they'll probably want to charge us more if we're having fun.

While searching for content for this log Stephen Allberry declared that he had been voted as hero of the leg, we agreed with him but what he didn't know is that we all voted for each other and so he has to share the prize with 17 others.

John Bass

Global Challenge: BP Explorer Sacrifice 1st Place In Tactical Gamble

Taken from News Report on 09:03 18th March 2005

BP Explorer has sacrificed the lead in leg 4 of the Global Challenge in a tactical gamble on the approach to Waypoint Bravo, just north of the Kuergelen Islands in the Southern Indian Ocean.

In anticipation of the strong winds from the southwest that will soon fill in as a conventional Southern Ocean low passes under the fleet, they headed south to line themselves up for the mark.

The southwesterly winds will lift all the teams on the racecourse on the run in to the psychologically and tactically significant waypoint. David Melvile, skipper of BP Explorer, clearly believes his former position would have left him sailing too far north, and therefore further from the great circle route to Cape Town that will take the fleet south again after rounding the mark.

"We have purposefully cashed in our first-place position," reported BP Explorer Crew Volunteer, Naomi Cudmore, "getting some south in, hopefully to better set ourselves up for that 2,500-mile-long line to Cape Town. Whether or not this relatively bold move pays off will be impossible to determine until we finally round Bravo - probably on Monday."

BG SPIRIT has been heading south for some time, now in 10th place and also hoping the winds backing to the southwest and building in strength up to 30-35 knots will propel them through the rankings over the weekend.

At present though, former 2nd place Imagine It. Done. have taken the lead by 13nm; the team placed last on the overall leaderboard in 1st place on the water. After taking a few flyers that have not produced results in previous legs, skipper Dee Caffari promised her crew at the beginning of this leg in Sydney they would be concentrating on boat speed and staying in touch with the fleet. They have done exactly that and Dee's evaluation of their impressive performance was simple:

"We always knew we could sail the boat, but now we're pointing it in the right direction as well!"

Leaderboard DTF

1. Imagine It. Done. 3,088nm
2. BP Explorer 3,101nm
3. Spirit of Sark 3,108nm
4. Team Stelmar 3,114nm
5. Pindar 3,126nm
6. Barclays Adventurer 3,128nm
7. SAIC La Jolla 3,147nm
8. Samsung 3,152nm
9. Me to You 3,162nm
10.BG SPIRIT 3,170nm
11.VAIO 3,206nm
12.Team Save the Children 3,311nm

52' 03S 86' 30E

Waypoint Bravo, like Waypoint Alpha, feels about as elusive as a fat, juicy steak, as a warm dose of sunshine on bare skin, or perhaps even other life forms right now. We are, as usual, all wearing our greens, and are beginning to feel like as well as resemble aliens from another planet - walking around the boat like Michelin men in our ever-increasing layers, uninspired by the possibilities of getting clean given the temperature and peering out through salt-stung eyes at our strange world through the smallest possible slot between hood and snood. Any visitor to BP Explorer right now would assume that we all have about six hands and four feet - every nook and cranny is breeding big, dripping-wet gloves of every size and design imaginable, whilst the floors are lost beneath hundreds of boots. We have not seen another vessel for weeks and most news from home tells of a lovely English spring that is hard for us to imagine.

The waypoint is about 640 miles distant and overnight we have purposefully cashed in our first-place position, getting some south in, hopefully to better set ourselves up for that 2,500-mile-long line to Cape Town. Whether or not this relatively bold move pays off will be impossible to determine until we finally round Bravo - probably on Monday. Right now the winds are not proving hugely useful and we are experiencing a period of relatively light breezes, but we have great faith that we will fight our way back to the front and that we can dig deep enough into our admittedly somewhat weary bones to remain dedicated to the struggle for that leg win which we all want so very much. In the short term, we have champagne and a crunchy bar each, of monstrous proportions, to look forward to in celebration of Bravo when it eventually materialises!

Naomi Cudmore

51' 12S 89' 48E

Happy St Patrick's Day from the bottom of the world!

We may be 10, 000 miles from the green green grass of home but that's no excuse to forget our roots, especially one that involves a party. At 53 degrees south, we are probably the most southerly paddies in the world to be celebrating St Patrick's Day. In true Irish style John and Giles, the two Belfast boys have dressed up in green (not hard on BP Explorer), painted shamrocks on our cheeks, dug out some of the black stuff and have been acting the eejit around the boat - just for the craic, lifting the spirits of the crew as we pass by the bottom of the world.

With our 1.5 kg personal weight allowance, I had been worried how we would be able to bring something to celebrate St Paddy's on the boat. Fortunately for us, some Ozzie leprechauns managed to sneak on board and stash away 6 cans of Guinness, a bottle of Jameson's whiskey and a big bar of Cadbury's hazelnut. A rather modest stash for 18 crew by anyone's standards, never mind the Irish. These are probably the best-travelled cans of Guinness in the world, brewed in Ireland, bought in Oz and savoured somewhere near Antarctica!

We don't have a fridge onboard, but chilling the Guinness was not a problem. At around -2 degrees C below deck, the boat is a fridge! As I sipped my third of a can, I was transported back to the cosy Hillside, my local with all my mates. I know they will be there today, probably drinking a fair amount on my behalf - Slainte everyone, Happy St Patrick's! (Giles)

As expected we have a few plastic paddies onboard. Actually Stephen travels under an Irish Passport and has been there 6 times, so he is more paper than plastic, we will give him honouree status for a day between the 2 true paddies onboard. Then there is Laura whose great-grandparents are from Kilkenny and Warren's grandparents who are from Co. Antrim. Even Goldie made an attempt to become Irish today by donning a fresh pair of green knickers! As for the rest of them, they are all want-to-be Irish, so they can get a sup of the black stuff and a sip of Jamie.

No one really knows what nationality St Patrick was, since he was brought to Ireland as a slave shepherd boy and later upon being freed returned to Christianize Ireland and thus save Christianity for the world. (So rumour has it.) The Italians say he is Italian, the Scots say he is Scottish etc etc, so for one day on BP Explorer, the German, the Italian, the English, the American, the Indian and the South African can all claim a wee bit of St Patrick and celebrate with the warm drink and a good laugh at our situation at the bottom of the world.

Anyway, happy St Patrick's Day to all the paddies in the fleet -we hope the Ozzie leprechauns have left you some gifts as well.

Giles Mackey & John Stewart

51o51S 94o55E

This morning we have been treated to a bruised sunrise of green, purple and gold and we are gliding through a strangely calm sea with the No1 Yankee up, still leading - although feeling like the fox being pursued by a pack of hounds. It is interesting how seldom people visualise in detail what it would be like to win this leg. We all want it so badly that it seems dangerous to picture podiums, champagne and the feeling of elation that would come with that trophy. Statistically of course we are more likely to be overtaken than to stay in front right up to the finish but to dwell on this would be counter-productive.

In essence, some things we allow ourselves to think about, whilst other trains of thought can ruin your mood! Yesterday David asked a few of us what we would have right at that moment if we could have anything. His own contribution went something like this: 'After seeing Kate and Jasper, I would like fresh white bread, smeared with real butter, filled with good bacon and covered in brown sauce.' Everyone went quiet and the 'pasta vegetariana' tasted even worse than usual when it was served up an hour later. 'Sorry about that,' coughed David. 'Yep, perhaps better not to talk about delicious things so close to mealtimes.' Friends and family, on the other hand, we do all think about constantly, and email for lots of us makes all the difference - it is fantastic to feel in touch with all the ones we love and the call of 'you have email' lights up everyone's face on even the worst day. The phone, on the other hand, gets used surprisingly little. The cost is not prohibitive (about $10 gets you a reasonable conversation), but the thing about the phone is that, not being in control of it, you become vulnerable; there is always the chance that you won't get through, there is no telling how the person back at home will sound or what they will say and everyone can hear your conversation anyway. For the soppier amongst us it is the one thing almost guaranteed to bring on the tears and homesickness.

David admits to trying very hard to control thought processes but this is not always easy. 'As skipper you spend the whole time in a mild state of tension, to a lesser or greater degree. Much of my time is taken up thinking about the weather, where the other boats are now and where they will be later relative to ourselves. Often this can be needlessly energy-sapping. There is so much that can happen - injury, sail damage, wind-holes, and so on - that would make everything we have achieved so far as nought. So every day that nothing really happens is a bloody bonus! But when there is a crisis I do tend to enjoy sorting it out in a perverse kind of way - I can say to myself afterwards, 'Yes, that was a job well done and that is what I am here for.' At the end of the day though, the thing to do is to try to ring-fence our thoughts in the present moment, and restrict daydreaming to timeless scenarios rather than specifics like the Grail that is that bacon butty. 'It's interesting the level of mind control this race teaches you,' remarks David, 'And this is especially useful for people who worry too much in normal life perhaps.' He's right we hope - by varying degrees we all want to come out of this experience better equipped to cope with whatever life chooses to throw at us next. And we are certainly going to appreciate those little pleasures a whole lot more!
Naomi Cudmore

52' 05S 97' 47E

We are slightly uneasy here on BP Explorer today - everything is going ok. We had some slight damage to our staysail but it's been repaired and it is now back up and flying well after several days with the storm staysail. We are still in front and pulling away from the rest of the fleet mile by mile, every position report over the last few days has been a pleasure to read.

The crew haven't gone mad with the cold and started to burn the contents of their Curver boxes to make heat, mainly due to the fact that it is a bit warmer (read less freezing cold) outside and the heater has come back to life and seems to be working. Even the weather ahead is looking good for us, better than we expected in fact - everything is going ok. So, why so uneasy?

Well because for the first time in ages we are not banging our heads against a wall in frustration over wind holes, routing mistakes, sharps on the rigging ripping our sails and all the other factors that have seen us drop back forcing us to climb to the front again only for something else to happen so we drop back and have do it all again. In the previous legs (indeed previous races) few boats have come in first having lead the way for most of the leg and while we are confident that we'll overcome and sail through any problems we're used to suffering a bit more than we have over the last 24 hours. So, we're slightly uneasy. We're wondering what's going to happen to mess it all up for us.

Christian Talpo is convinced that it his enthusiastic opera singing on deck that is bringing us the luck, the off watch trying to sleep are not so sure. We are nearly halfway through this leg and we reckon by the end of this week we'll have broken the back of it. A bit more rough stuff to come but if we can stay in the lead it'll make the extra work, the cold and whatever the Gods decide to throw at us a little easier to bare. The more miles we can put between us and the likes of BG SPIRIT and Spirit of Sark the happier we'll be. We've just got the latest positions in and it's good reading again. Who needs sleep? Carry on singing.

John Bass

53' 22S 103' 51E

The doctor's special day is over and another birthday dawns - today Laura is 31 and surely enjoying one of the strangest birthdays ever - not only is she at 53 south, but she is also supposedly on honeymoon, although Graham is currently 66 miles away on Pindar. At least she can celebrate it in first position! Just as for Holger, Laura's birthday will no doubt seem to last longer than usual as she will wake up to a chorus of 'happy birthdays' three times today.

So far we have got up around 35 times - just another 55 rude awakenings to go based on our average speed to date! Getting up during a gale (we cannot remember when this one began) on a Southern Ocean leg is the bane of our lives. The 30-minute trial goes something like this: squirrelled away in the depths of a three-layer sleeping bag, tied in behind your lee cloth, you hear the distant sound of the 'waker' - sometimes soothing and calm (John Stewart and Goldie have been voted best wakers), sometimes in an unforgiving bellow (mentioning no names). You must acknowledge the waker to avoid being shaken and generally prodded and poked. There follows a three-minute period of total denial in all directions - 'Jesus no it can't be that time already' , 'How can it be this cold? It's isn't humane!' 'If I close my eyes again I will be back on a sunny beach.', etc. The waker then returns to make sure you are no longer in denial. You undo two zips and wriggle out of the bags, whilst untying the middle lee-cloth strap and trying not to fall out of the now-unprotected bunk as the boat launches off an enormous wave. Once on the ground you put on as many cold, wet clothes as you can find with your name in them, as fast as possible - bearing in mind that they have probably all been thrown around by the motion while you slept and that your clothes look exactly the same as 17 other peoples' anyway. Plus it is dark. You then stagger through the boat to the heads, where you wait in the queue before planting your sleepy behind on a cold, damp, pitching loo seat. Open valve. Pump 20 times anti-clockwise. Shut valve. Pump another 20 clockwise. Wash hands in freezing water. Task over, hold on with one hand and brush teeth with the other. There follows another assault-course back towards the saloon, past waiting bodies, wellies and wet sails. If you have time you grab some food on the way through the saloon and then it's on to the foulie locker.

Oh the foulie locker! Nine sets of foulies and nine survival suits attack you - all dripping cold water onto the mid-layer you are desperately trying to keep slightly less wet. You retrieve your own soaking yellow mass of goretex and carry it back to your chosen 'changing spot' (somewhere you can wedge yourself in). You wrestle your way into the suit or foulies, contort yourself into sodden lifejacket and harness, pull on wet snood, hat and first glove. Then you find a volunteer to put on your other glove for you (if wearing mitts). Next stagger up the companionway steps, roll back the hatch and hand out your lifeline. Bam! The wind-chill and, typically, a massive wave, smack you in the face. Sight regained, safely clipped on and cheered by the off-going watch, you hoist yourself over the duck boards and off you go. We have a race to win and hey ho, only a few hours until bed.

John Bass' least favourite thing about getting up? 'The fact that I am not asleep anymore!'

Naomi Cudmore

55 07S 113 22E

We are still bashing along in the same Force 8 that made yesterday such a struggle, although the winds are ever-so-slowly beginning to moderate. Of course, it takes a while for the seas to catch up and calm down so it is going to be bumpy long after the howling and whistling has been replaced with something more gentle.

In the early hours of this morning Cop's watch dragged up the staysail in preparation for the first of the series of sail changes that we will now go through amidst the bumping and crashing as the wind gradually eases back to something more manageable. Three times Chris, Warren, Major, John and Goldie prepared to bring down the storm stay and change up a gear, and three times they were called back with the shout of 'hold' as the wind blew back above 30 knots - yet again making a fool of those on deck whose energy levels were fading fast. Not that this did anything to lessen their admirable willingness to keep going, and going, and going.

The stay is now lashed down in the cockpit and the new watch is waiting for the call to try for the change again. Meanwhile, we are enduring the worst of the cold so far on this leg before we tack and head north later today - hopefully (speaking for more than just myself I am sure) never to return this far south again. The timing of our heater is uncanny - it must have its own sense of irony because it currently lies in bits as Rob attempts yet another valiant attempt to bully it into life. Laura is struggling through a very uncomfortable mother watch with both a gas shortage and a water limit to contend with (the water-maker goes on strike on this tack), and heavy-weather helms Cop, Andrew, David, Olly and Holger (whose birthday it is tomorrow!) are proving to be the heroes of yet another day.

In the small hours, as some of us were beginning to feel rather defeated by it all, the best comfort David could offer came in the form of the wry observation: "The thing is, you are allowed to hate this bit; and whatever way you look at it, however long it seems to take, it will inevitably come to an end." "But it doesn't feel like it!", some of us wail to ourselves.

Perhaps it is far better to look to the scheds for inspiration. Yesterday we passed the end of Australia in first place (our objection was the top five), so on that score it is big smiles all round - and the cheese celebration was a hit. Now we just have to stay in the lead for another 4,000-odd miles and we'll be home and dry. Simple! I'm off to add my small
cog to this big wheel.

Naomi Cudmore

53o54S 115o42E

You'd think a big sea was a big sea, a wave a wave but they are all quite different. Today the waves are steep and pointed like the icing on a Christmas cake when you slap a spoon on it to create the jagged peaks. The wind is strong; 30-40 knots, so there are waves on the waves each with white foam that gets blown up and over the top of the crest. As BP Explorer surges through them water lifts onto the foredeck and is then instantly blown into a fine mist. Occasionally a larger wave will come at us from the side and blast freezing water over the trimmer at the shrouds, crew on the rail and the helm. There was a time when if someone shouted 'big wave' we'd look up; we are wiser now and we avoid a face full of southern ocean by ducking and turning our heads away. The strong winds started at about midnight and as they increased the watches changed through the sails before settling on the number 3 yankee, storm staysail and three reefs in the main. For most of the night it was cloudy but then as it started to clear the Southern Lights once again lit up the skies. Unfortunately with the clear skies came the bitter, bitter cold. Once you start to get cold it is difficult to warm up again and the only solution is to go below. We rotate every half hour so there are always four or five crew on deck. With everyone wearing the same yellow foulies and the hoods done up so that only the eyes are visible it is difficult to see who's who so we have our names written on the back of the hoods and our gloves. It doesn't always work and sometimes you'll be chatting away to someone on the rail only to discover it's not who you thought it was at all; a good reason not to talk about another crew member - as if we ever would!

It is no surprise that it's so cold as we are only 700 miles from Antarctica; in fact we are now closer to Antarctica than Australia, which is over 1000 miles away. We are still in first place and as the fleet start to converge on us we are like a fox being pursued by a pack of hounds. VAIO is way south of us and Team Save The Children are south and some 220 miles behind but the rest of the fleet are within 70 miles and with such a long way to go it is no time for complacency. We predict that these winds will last about another 12 hours and then return to 20-25 knots. So far this leg is much less variable than the previous southern ocean leg, which does mean a bit of a break for the sail change teams. It was not unusual to change sails three or four times in a watch on the way to New Zealand but on this one it is more like one every other watch. I for one am less tired and so in good spirits as are the rest of the crew. For lunch we had a rare treat in the form of a lump of cheese each. It ain't the Hilton but these little luxuries make a big difference. I wonder if I'll be able to take a shower in the next three weeks.
John Bass

BP Explorer Maintains Her Lead

Taken from News Report by Rachel Anning (As Amended By ISAF). Image, BP Explorer:© Challenge Business, Thursday, March 10, 2005

The fleet is still running parallel on the same tack, led by BP Explorer – now twelve miles in front of Imagine It. Done.

The fleet has been experiencing reaching conditions making for fast 24 hour runs in the right direction. BG SPIRIT recorded the greatest distance sailed in this period of 224 nm, averaging 9.4 knots, adding to their fragile 2 nm lead over Spirit of Sark.

Ahead it looks like there will be a day’s calm before the next low arrives as Duggie GILLESPIE (GBR), skipper of Spirit of Sark explains: 'Possible light winds further down our track and we await these conditions. We are keeping the northing that we have for now, to see what happens ahead. Fantastic reaching conditions at the moment - good to have a different point of sail for a change from up-wind.'

Hoping to catch up with the leaders is Loz MARRIOTT (GBR), skipper aboard Pindar: 'Being in the northern part of the fleet has helped and we have gained a few miles on the leaders. At present we have strong northerlies, which are going to back to the northwest for a good few hours. In the medium term, there is a front, after which we will encounter strong westerlies.'

David MELVILLE (GBR), skipper of BP Explorer is determined not to let the fleet creep back up: 'We are reasonably happy with our position at the halfway stage to Waypoint Bravo. The challenge is to consolidate that position and to cover yachts close on our heels but representing a very wide north - south spread.'

Chasing BP Explorer is proving difficult for Dee CAFFARI (GBR) on board Imagine it. Done. with visibility so poor she can barely see a few boat lengths ahead: 'With the weather allowing visibility to only 10 boat lengths, if that, there is very little chance of seeing each other, even with the closeness we have had racing. The worry now comes with the next low and the westerly blast that comes with it.'

'The fleet is all going the same direction now, as we have enjoyed strong reaching conditions for the whole of last night, but the racing will be split again as the fleet starts to tack its way upwind through the westerly airflow. We shall all rendezvous at Waypoint Bravo in less than 2,000 miles I expect.'

Also with one eye on Waypoint Bravo, as well as the imminent weather system, is Clive COSBY (GBR) aboard Team Stelmar: 'Staying on starboard tack for a while as winds are favourable, maintaining a sail plan for balance to avoid weather helm, constantly trimming of main and adjusting course for best position and speed towards Waypoint Bravo.'

51o11S 122o13E

The days melt slowly into one another, left behind on our relentless wake with fragments of random conversation, a measure of sweat and tears and yesterday's washing-up water. Notionally it is now Day 12 as we find ourselves over half way to Waypoint Bravo and a third of the way to Cape
Town.

But ocean time is a strange, ever-changing beast - it refuses to be measured into equal seconds, minutes, hours. Two weeks is manageable; five weeks seems like an eternity. Handle time well and you will avoid the worst of the cabin fever but this is easier for some than others. 'A Buddha-like
acceptance' is what David recommends and when this works it works well. Our serenity is, however, at times a little patchy. Various things warp the passing hours - some of us have indulged in the luxury of watching a film on John's Archos media player which lends the afternoon a real 'worm-hole in space and time effect', dislocating you entirely from the mental frameworks of the boat. A busy, physical watch will go in a flash, as will one filled with great conversation or raucous laughter; but those silent, exhausted watches drenched in cold night-time mist see the clock hands dragging
painfully around the numbers and into the small hours.

The cold and damp can certainly stretch out time and they also make a hard job harder. We had BP crew member, 'Alaska' Joe, down as something of a hard case when it came to the cold and toughing it out. Having grown up in
a village with just nine inhabitants, four of whom were his brothers*, he has lived the life of the quintessential hunter-gatherer in one of the harshest environments. 'How are you finding it, Joe', we ask him regularly. 'Pretty damn cold! That's for sure. It's the wet that makes the cold worse than anything back in Alaska because you can't dry stuff out. Everything here is wet and it's going to stay wet. I love the work on deck - it's down below that I struggle with, just managing to eat, to go to the heads, to get dressed, they are all so difficult. But upstairs I'm ok, although when you are on that foredeck those waves are more menacing than I ever really imagined.' Joe is doing a great job and it is fantastic to have someone with so many interesting stories to tell, but he has already changed in a couple of small ways! 'No man, I don't touch that stuff' was his regular answer to the hot-drinks orders in week one. Now, not only has he learnt to make an acceptable cup of tea (just), but he is gulping down hot chocolate by the bucket-load along with the rest of us. 'And I reckon I'm more contemplative, more reflective too. Usually I just steam right on in there with whatever I'm doing. But here I really have to listen, to think, pay attention and play things through in my mind first. You guys are at the stage where you just react but this is a new thing for me and the stakes on this boat are really high with every manoeuvre, everything you do. I'm learning all the time.'

(*See Joe's book, 'Where In The Hell is Sourdough, Alaska?', Josef Chmielowksi, available on Amazon)
Naomi Cudmore

50' 30S 125' 49E

It's chilly on deck but not as cold as it has been. Warmer air from the north is giving up it's moisture over the cold sea and the 360 degree view is very Turner as the sun tries to break through layers of gun smoke grey mist and cloud. We huddle on the rail or in the cockpit regaling stories of our childhood or our top ten favourite movies, the steam from our mouths stolen by the wind. Alaska Joe has enough material to get us around the World again if we need to and just when we think we've heard the last a new chapter in his life story is revealed. The wind is constant which does mean a break for the fore deck and snake pit crew, as there are less sail changes. We are back on course and have successfully negotiated the area of light winds and have improved our position from second to first. It's no time to jump up and down or to crack open the whiskey though. We are only six miles in front of Imagine It.Done and ten miles in front of Barclays Adventurer. There is also more unpredictable weather ahead and we may or may not be in the best position to deal with it and maintain our lead, that and the fact that there is still an awfully long way to go.

It has been a few days where the navigators on BP Explorer have been in the spotlight. David, Andrew and Stephen have all been agonising over tactics and the rest of us have seen the pressure showing on their faces. Stephen comments "It's difficult, just trying to keep us going and think ahead to position yourself". "The information we get is rarely complete and the position reports never seem to come in on time when you want to see what the other yachts in the fleet are doing" Errors can be costly and it's difficult sometimes not look to the navigators when you know everyone has been sailing the yacht as fast as we can and we still lose positions or drive into a wind hole and sit there for the day. I think we have a brilliant navigation team and I know that the rest of the team shares my opinion - there are certainly no takers when David asked if anyone would like to give them a break and take over for a bit. Stephen's final comment was "Don't sign up for this job if you don't like the stress".

Though much calmer than last week we are still caught out by the occasional rouge wave. Today, Naomi's carefully prepared cheesecake got airborne as we flew off a wave and it travelled across the galley. Rob, who was enjoying a cup of tea at the time, looked rather shocked as he looked down to see his boots well and truly splattered. We are not sure if all of it has been accounted for and I'm sure those on mother watch will be finding dollops of it in strange places for the next few days. Rob is recovering on deck and boasting of his bravery during the ordeal.

John Bass

50o55S 129o27E

Some days it is hard to believe just how far we are from anywhere; the last 24 hours have seen us surrounded by a heavy, dripping-cold mist that makes it hard to see further than a hundred yards in front of the boat. If we close our eyes and think hard enough we could convince ourselves that we are in the English Channel not at the bottom of the world.

We have spent the last few hours tracking north to try to cover ourselves in a situation which might be described as skating on very thin ice. We are right on the edge of an area of very light winds and feel slightly edgy being the southerly boat where if things do not going our way we could lose substantial miles. For now, however, we seem to be getting away with it and we maintain our second-place position. If we manage to stay in the top three by the time we pass the western tip of Australia we are going to celebrate our goal-two success with a big lump of real cheese (we know how to party here on BP!).

Meanwhile the boys on Cop's watch have been engaging in a bit of male bonding by the mast during a survival-suit inflation test. They seem to do the trick but whether or not it is a sight for sore eyes for the three girls on board is quite another matter. We are not saying anything!

Naomi Cudmore

49 18 S 133 15 E

Finally, after what seems like an age, the winds have calmed to a manageable 20 knots (on other legs 20 knots would be a lot of wind, here this is calm) and BP Explorer is easing off much like a race horse that has just run a big race.

It's time to check her over and make sure that in the howling winds and rough seas nothing has been damaged or lost. Today we will complete a full safety check from front to back, inside and out. The weather changed at about 9pm GMT and it was time to drop the orange staysail. The number three yankee stayed for another few hours. It had been flying with one hank broken away and it lost another before finally being wrestled to the deck and replaced with the number two. On later inspection another hank needed to be replaced and finally it was bagged until next time.

Both watches were treated to the amazing sight of the Southern lights throughout the evening. The Southern lights is a magical pulsing lightshow that dances across the heavens this far south. The best way I can think to describe it is to imagine a delicate flag of multi-coloured light fluttering across the night sky. At first it appeared from behind a cloud much like the beams from the moon, then as we craned our necks to look directly above us what, at first glance, looked like streaks of cloud appeared and re-appeared eventually and then started changing colours. I believe it is created by solar radiation from the jets of flame that burst from the sun but who needs science, we'll pretend its angels dancing, their spun silver dresses shimmering in the moonbeams. On what was a bitterly cold night it was a most welcome sight and sent us to our bunks lifted.

The changing conditions are something of a worry as we try to get over the top of an area of light winds. Most of the fleet are further north while VAIO and Me To You are south of us trying, no doubt, to duck under the worst of it. We just have to hope that we have got far enough north to avoid the light airs and thus lose valuable miles on boats with better wind. We currently lie in 2nd place behind Me To You and Barclays Adventurer are less than a mile behind but are maybe in a better position further north. The next 24 hours will be tense as we try to maximise boat speed and hope that the rest of the fleet aren't going to steal our place near the front.

John Bass

50'19S 136' 26E

First and foremost the crew all wish their mums Happy Mother's Day - believe us, we would definitely rather be lavishing you all with big bunches of roses and breakfast in bed than enduring the storm right now!

Hopefully John and I will be able to find as many different ways to describe stormy seas as there are variations in them. It may all sound similar - and there is a numbing sense of monotony about the weather - but the ocean never seems to look the same twice. Right now we are still beating into a Force 8-9, which is set to continue for another 24 hours before a calmer 36-hour period. It might even be subdued enough for a shower in the not-too-distant future! I am now wearing 24 items of clothing and the chill still gets through (although I am told it will get much, much colder); and the waves look and feel (when they stab you in the face) like iron filings, the spray ghosting in fast streaks up their backs before being blown up into the air where it mingles with the dashing circus of myriad tiny birds who seem at least to be enjoying the day!

Below decks, necks crane at the computers to get the most recent weather and try to second-guess exactly where the variable and probably light winds will be this time tomorrow. They lie sandwiched between two weather systems and most of the formerly southerly boats have traded in some of their advantage to come north in a bid to escape being slowed right down. It is mainly because of this that we now lie in second place, with just 11 miles to Barclays Adventurer at the last scheds. Hopefully we will have routed ourselves for the best possible negotiation of the changeable weather ahead. With Major's delicious ad-hoc rice pudding lining our bellies for the cold night ahead we can only ride out the storm, hang on tight and hope.

Naomi Cudmore

48o53S 139o37E

Waves like rows of terraced houses surge towards us, sometimes from all directions. As they heave upwards from the ocean their crests curl and explode in the wind sending jets and eddies of spray into the cold grey air.

As we ride the back of these molten mountains, slowly rising to their peak, we can see the trough some 20 feet below us and look across this amazing liquid landscape. Most of the time we glide over the top and surf down the other side but then there are the times when we leap from the crest and with a bone-jarring crash fall to the trough below. Crawling and scrambling to the fore deck for sail changes we have to hold ourselves to the deck. If we are caught out by a wave we become temporally weightless and when the boat comes down, burying its bow in the surf, you come down with a crash and are swirled around on deck until the water drains over the sides. The girls in the snake pit peer out through squinted eyes and strain to hear the shouts of the crew as they fight to drop sails, hank on new ones and hoist them into the 20 and 30 knot winds. Meanwhile the helms fight a wheel that may not want to go where they want to go. We are all attached to the boat by lifelines. These are clipped to the wires running the length of BP Explorer.

This means we should never be further than the length of the line away from where we want to be, even if we do lose our grip and get washed down the deck by a wave - all in all it's pretty good fun really. It is a bit different below, we feel the crashes and bangs and the angle of heel makes getting around very tricky and tiring but the real worried looks come from the people visiting the heads. Without going into too much detail the lads have it easy for the most part but for the girls and the longer visits, sitting on the old china throne in these seas is something of an ordeal. A feeling of weightlessness followed by a sudden slamming during this time of personal reflection is a bit unnerving and reading the paper, if we had one, is certainly out of the question.

A look at the fleet positions show that through all the bad weather we are still holding our position of third place. Imagine It. Done. are currently in the lead with Barclays Adventurer on their heels but we are nibbling away at the miles that separate us and we've still got a long way to go. There is a huge difference to the morale of a watch when the Sun is out and today it has been. We are all in good spirits and though it's early days I think we feel much more positive about how we are going to cope with conditions that this leg will throw at us. Hey! On the bright side, if we skip one of the oh so tasty freeze-dried meals we may not need to make that visit to the heads every day.
John Bass

47 25 S 142 42 E

We are now well and truly upon the battleground once again! The heater is, as we speak, on its test run (memories of leg two are still fresh!), the water is already icy and for the last 24 hours we have been plunging through beautiful, dreadful seas with waves up to 30 feet high, Force 8-9 winds and tonne after splintering tonne of water breaking over the boat. Exhausted and somewhat drained (as we are all finding it hard to eat), we were greeted this morning with an incredible sunrise, our pitching amphitheatre of steel-grey sea circumscribed by towering snow-on-the-way clouds and a hint of melba-coloured morning to the east. As the sun rose, we saw a golden staggered ladder of scudding cloud wafers framed in gilt with the promise of clearer skies and respite from the storm; sure enough, by lunchtime there was more than enough blue to patch one hundred sailors' trousers.

As Cop commented, however, the winds of the afternoon continued to make a mockery of us, albeit being down to an average 25 knots, and for two hours we never had the right sail plan up for more than ten minutes, which made for exhausting work for foredeck and snakepit teams, who also contended with sporadic and vicious storms of hail. Cheeks and noses in need of TLC all round!

Having just knocked off the first 1,000 miles of this 6,000-plus-mile leg, we are approaching the end of our first week which for the BP Explorer crew must have seemed like a baptism of fire. We have managed to achieve our first aim of rounding the Tasmania waypoint in the top three and we still lie in third, with the distance to Barclays Adventurer and Imagine it. Done having slowly diminished overnight and throughout the day. As ever Spirit of Sark are hot on our heels though and we fight to keep them off. A few bumps and bruises aside, we are all well and in good spirits, though not a little daunted by the tough month ahead, and, on a more temporary note, drenched in the smell of Lee & Perrins below decks following a disastrous galley spill. In the meantime, our thoughts go out to Team Save the Children - we wish their injured crew member a speedy recovery and fair winds to the rest of the team to speed them back on their way.

Naomi Cudmore

33' 28S 145' 49E

The winds had been building from 12 midnight and at the end of our watch at 6 o'clock this morning were regularly hitting 22 knots. As the other watch took over and we settled in our bunks we all had an ominous feeling that is was going to get worse before it got better. BP Explorer leaned over and started to ride and crash over the building waves. We have been thrown around in our bunks like rag dolls and with every sudden crash and violent lurch is the constant fear that you may be thrown out of your bunk and onto the floor. On deck it was once again full foulies and a fight to change sails in the growing winds, which are now averaging 30 knots, and gusting to 40 knots. As water boils and cascades over the deck, hands reach out monkey-style grabbing and swinging from each hand hold. Every step has to be made with caution and every movement is made all the more difficult as you trail a lifeline which has to be disconnected and re-connected over every obstacle. Heads are held low as spray fires over the deck but more often than not just when you think it's safe to look up you get a face, eye and mouthful of salty water. The on-watch came down at 12 midday looking totally spent and we didn't begrudge that they had left the number two yankee in the saloon and the number one on deck still to be flaked and bagged. Major was in the galley having had his very own fight during the morning. His valiant attempts to cook lunch had seen him trying to save a meal of pasta, ham and peas from flying from the saucepan. Unfortunately the scars of the battle were spread across the hob, galley walls, floor and Major himself.

After flaking and bagging the sails we have been sailing the afternoon with the number three yankee, the orange storm staysail and three reefs in the main. Those on deck are lashed to the rail with their lifelines made as short as possible to prevent them sliding down the deck with every wave. We take it in turns to sit the furthest forward as this is the person that takes the brunt of the waves. The helms are doing an amazing job and they too are not safe from the occasional wave. You get a feeling when they are going to come and it's not unusual to duck on the rail to see it go over our heads and full in the face of the poor helm.

The hardship is not without reward though, we have regained some lost ground from a 5th place position this morning back up to third and are gaining on Barclays Adventurer and Imagine It. Done. in first and second place. At 2 o' clock we passed Maatsuyker Island, the last land we'll see before South Africa and are taking the great circle route to waypoint Bravo at the Kergoelen Islands. Sometimes it's easy to forget that this is what we paid our money for, a unique once in a lifetime experience, it is that and more but boy is it going to feel good when we get to Cape Town.

John Bass

42o47S 148o47E

Over the past 24 hours the weather has made a mockery of us and had us scooting around the foredeck trying to second guess the next dramatic change - to no avail. Following a very civilised start and fast sailing in this, the scariest leg of all, we found ourselves last night clawing down the Yankee 1 (our largest headsail) in 37 knots of wind. Minutes earlier we had been enjoying a moderate 15 knots and the prospect of a quietish night before a gradually-filling breeze.

Instead we were rudely reminded of how tiring repeated sail changes in choppy seas can be; the swell built quickly and the following 12 hours were spent in high winds with headsails being changed in quick succession and the reefs going in and out, out and in - all with a large amount of incredibly salty water being thrown over us to boot (the salinity of the Tasman Sea is striking and burns face and hands unless religiously washed off). The water is at least still warm. Once we turn right, this will of course be icy cold.

For now, however, we are struggling to set ourselves up for that infamous right-hander at the bottom of Tasmania, which will launch us out into the great grey wilderness once again. Although some 32 miles offshore (roughly in line with Maria Island), we suspect that the strange and unpredicted weather last night and today might be due to a huge wind shadow off Tasmania which now, in a sparkling evening, brings no wind and a boat speed of under 2 knots! We cannot get east as this would bring the wind right behind us and we would grind to a halt, so we are simply trying to make the best of our current course.

The big question is whether the more easterly yachts, VAIO and Me To You, will escape these unpredictable airs, enjoy a more constant breeze and be scooped down to the corner of Australia before whizzing off into the Southern Ocean ahead of the rest of us. The good news is that we lie in third with barely a hair between ourselves and Imagine It. Done., and less than two miles separating us from Barclays Adventurer. It is a waiting game and a brief respite tonight from high winds.

On a pink note, thank you to the crew for giving me one of the best birthdays ever! I have been thoroughly spoilt with cake, champagne, singing and pressies and thank you to J&L for the packages, Jane for the pick-me-up, everyone at home for the birthday messages, Trucker Jolene and HMTI on Barclays Adventurer for the decorations and reading matter (xxx), Phil on Samsung for the book and M&N for the most amazing package! Wow. I will try my best to call later. With so many new face packs I will surely look 21 instead of 30 (here's hoping!)

Naomi Cudmore

40 16 S 149 27 E

I've looked all over and there is no cool place in this yacht! On deck the sun beats down and punishes anyone not covered from head to toe or who hasn't applied the factor 50 sunscreen. Below decks it's hot and humid and even the fans in the galley provide little comfort as they are blowing warm air. All too soon I fear we will be wishing we were back in the sun but for now give me some refreshing water over the deck and a chilly breeze.

It's a strange thing this ocean racing lark, yesterday David was looking decidedly glum and scratching his head over some disappointing position reports, today everything is much brighter. There has been a complete turnaround in the positions and boats that were in front are now behind us while some that were behind have moved just ahead of us.

Barclays Adventurer flank us to the right and Imagine It. Done. to the left, both are close enough to see crew moving around on deck. The breeze is set to weaken as a new wind comes in from the west and there will be a return to some anxious times as BG SPIRIT and Spirit of Sark, out to the east, could gain ground as they benefit from the old wind as we wait for ours. David is once again in good form and has been proudly showing us his advent calendar lovingly crafted by his wife Kate. Each day of the leg has a window revealing a photo or a message. Naomi on the other hand has been looking slightly down all day. It's her birthday tomorrow and the thought of turning 30 has seen her usually 'pink' outlook on life turn slightly purple. Fortunately she is the second youngest person on BP
Explorer so she's still the spring chicken to us. So, it's kites up, heads down and shirts off. Safe, Happy, Faster hopefully not hotter.