Day 6 :Off Portugal

The winds have now finally died down sufficiently for us to send a log detailing BP Explorer's adventures during the last 24 hours. At 21.30GMT on Friday 8th October, we are starting to recover from an incredible 24 hours which culminated in 14 of the crew battening themselves down below while the deck became inhabited solely by those with a stomach for a sea state which skipper David described as 'awesome', and wind speeds constantly in excess of 50 knots, and gusting to near 60.

'I have never seen anything like those waves on a Challenge boat', he admitted - later - which is just as well because those of us who were by this point cowering under the table might have become even more unnerved by the news that this was virgin territory for him too! This kind of weather - a Force 10 - is described for those who might find it hard to visualise as 'seldom experienced inland; trees uprooted; considerable structural damage' (Beaufort scale).

Crawling reluctantly out of our damp but warm bunks and going on watch at 2am was rather like leaving the house and getting hit by a cricket bat. Having sailed into the centre of an impressive low, we were struck by a downburst and surrounded by thunder and huge sheets of lightning. The latter lent the whole nightmare a filmic quality as again and again it lit up the scene of mayhem on the otherwise pitch-black deck.

One moment we were sailing along with the headsail poled out, the next we were pinned down by a huge gust which nailed the sail to the forestay and caused the fabric to rip and numerous hanks to come apart. This initial scene of horror behind us and dealt with, the watch being replaced were put on standby in full wet-weather gear in the saloon. Exhausted and longing for bed, they were soon required back on deck, as the reefs followed one another in quick succession and sail area was reduced. Before long we had the main down completely and were flying along with just our storm staysail and no3 - the stay a luminous brave red banner in a wild expanse of angry sea.

In the snakepit, things were far too hectic to even take in the sea, which for all its fury was a beautiful sight, but at the helm, Andrew Smith felt 'fine' as the winds increased to a constant 45 knots - until he looked behind him and saw the size of the waves. By daylight these had built to around 40 feet - although by this point it was just David and three adrenalin junkies on the deck. One such, John Bass, related how the skipper, seemingly delighted with this new challenge, was zipping around the boat tweaking this and that, ensuring that all was safe, and that at one point he zoomed up to foredeck, video camera in hand, to capture a frame of the almost submerged cockpit and its whooping occupants.

There was absolutely no way that I was going up there! Things down below presented quite enough of a challenge with sails to be mended valiantly by Goldie (Raley) and Sasha - known to us as 'Russia's greatest sewing machine' - tea to be supplied and comfort to be proffered to those of us who were scared.

It is a night we will none of us forget in a hurry - and its high point, which came at around 11 this morning, was really something. Trying to grab a couple of hours' sleep, we heard David's voice booming into the 'back bedroom' - 'Hey guys!! You want to hear something?.... We're in the bl**dy lead!!' The boat erupted - nothing could have chased away the night horrors more effectively!