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