46o09N 01o14W; La Rochelle

The final night of Leg Six and BP Explorer trembles as she skims off the backs of the waves and hurls herself forwards. She is spinning down the white horses, lifting her skirts under the boiling crests as we stretch our necks out to catch Me To You, less than a mile ahead. Two plumes of churning bow wave to port and starboard are lit up over the inky-black sea like molten, white wings. Lightning illuminates our faces in the gloaming, flashing over and over in brilliant streaks touching the coast of France. Our hull speed tops 19 knots with the next big surf and the trimmer fights to keep control of the kite.

'LET'S GET IT DOWN - NOOOW!' David's voice is urgent and edgy. We have held on long enough.

Troops gather in the cockpit, hanging on to the guy and ready for the call. 'SPIKE IT!'

'IT'S GONE!' cry the foredeck and down the halyard comes, metre upon metre of white nylon being heaved over the boom and bundled down below.

'Call trim on the yankee!'

In it comes, the boat powers up and we surge away. Then the yankee comes over - we are now poling out the No.1 and the speeds climb even higher.

'22.6 knots!!! Wooohoooo! We're gaining on them!' The helmsmen's arms have almost given up. A week ago support bandages came out as one by one they strained muscles with the effort of keeping BP Explorer heading straight as an arrow for La Rochelle through the storming kite runs. Not long now! We are eating up the miles, averaging 12 knots and we should be there by morning. We just have to keep hold of the reins and catch the yacht in front.

In the small hours the winds increase, touching gale force. Our wings of white water rise up through a huge surf, lifting above the toerails and hitting us full in the face. It is like riding an amusement park log plume - only there is nothing that is going to slow us down here!

Dawn breaks and Me To You are right next to us, just a couple of metres behind. Whilst we have the flanker up again, they are carrying their 1.5oz race kite. It looks like we also should have a lighter kite as the wind drops, but there is no time to change now. We are just minutes from the mark and we hold off Me To You, covering their every move. At the mark, we are neck and neck, but as we harden up on the breeze and drop the kite, we pull away, powering on towards the finish line, cheered by our supporters in a RIB. Second overall and with everything to play for - Leg Seven, bring it on!