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