"Well, week five is starting a little slowly, as Roxy is tinkling along in a little light patch. Yet again, a frustrating moment, that I can do nothing about as we slow down, and the others speed up! Never mind, soon we will pick up the wind - I can see that the boats behind me have already started to accelerate. In the meantime, I'm wiggling Roxy towards the Ice Gate the best I can, quite a few gybes and sail changes in store..... It is interesting, now we are speeding along towards the East, we are really starting to "properly" go round the world! The Longitude is counting up, approximately 12 degrees per day! That brings me to one of my favourite expressions - "Chasing the Dawn" - which is literally what we are doing! I learnt this lovely expression from Nick Moloney. It is so accurate, as every day, we get closer to the sunrise.... and if you are lucky enough to get a morning with little cloud, the sun rises right in front of the bow of the boat, which is a rare, and warming sight for the skipper lucky enough to witness it. The only tricky side to this is that every day, the "local time" changes by about an hour and our natural body-clock likes to run with the sun. But Roxy's  clock stays in UT (GMT) as that is the time used for my weather info, navigation, and race organisation.  So, each day I get to eat breakfast earlier and earlier! Mealtimes change, my ideal "cat-nap" times change.... And I just worked out that during our trip around the world, we win an "extra day" - because in the end we'll be back to where we started!! So, in the time that it takes to get back to the S Atlantic - say 6 weeks - I will have eaten 6 weeks and one day's worth of food!!! Interesting fact of the day!"
Sam Davies (Roxy) in her daily log

 

"Hi there, the wind has eased off.  I was a bit exhausted after so many sail changes, so much so that this evening after sleeping for half an hour, I wondered whether I wasn't going to turn on the autopilot on Cheminées Poujoulat, when in fact it was already on.  It took me ten minutes to get my head straight and understand that there was nothing to do;  And yet I still had the feeling that I hadn't done everything I should have. In short, it wasn't easy waking up.  This afternoon was fine, but now the drizzle has returned.  It's just like at home.  At the moment there is very little wind.  You get used to the wind and when it drops off, it feels like there's something wrong, when in fact, all is well.  I can't find the right setting for the pilot in wind mode, so it's set for compass, which isn't very practical. It's working, but there must be a problem in the calculation of the real wind.  It's not easy to get things organised aboard the boat . There's no separation between the cold and wet and the living quarters. We had planned an area to dry my clothes, but it doesn't work unless the heat is on all the time.  The scenery has changed. There are a lot of birds.  I'm not a specialist, but I think they must be petrels, terns and of course albatrosses. Haven't seen any marine mammals, except one or two dolphins off the Canaries, but nothing since.  At least if I don't see any, I'm not running into any.  This is after all their home."  
Bernard Stamm (Cheminées Poujoulat)

 

"It has been a very ‘Jack Johnson' Sunday. Steady and consistent. The sky began blue and the seas huge again with gusts of 30 knots and above. As the afternoon has crept forward the wind has eased and the waves have reduced, although the blue sky has been lost to Southern Ocean grey with complete cloud cover. This has rapidly reduced the temperature although my northing course before the gybe has taken me to slightly warmer sea temperatures. It is my Mum's birthday tomorrow so as a treat I washed my hair before I called her to wish her birthday greetings. It made me feel a lot better and also I thought my Mum would approve. It is a celebration for her birthday and for crossing the longitude of the first Great Cape."
Dee Caffari (Aviva) in her daily message yesterday evening

 

"The other day, someone asked me: "describe the sea!". He should have asked me to describe a sheep.  I don't know how to draw, but I could have managed that.  But the sea? I think there's a lot of white, as the Swiss say. How can I explain that? You often hear sailors saying "There are some seas!"  Obviously, as 75% of the planet is sea.  What they mean is there are waves. The waves are made by the wind blowing. The stronger it blows in the same direction, the higher the waves, to keep it simple. Behind the low-pressure area , this morning, the seas became rougher, the wind shifted and is still blowing strongly.  Now it's completely confused, blowing in every direction.  I think that tomorrow in the high, it's going to be hard and light. Just be careful, if someone offers you a sea platter - that can mean anything."
Michel Desjoyeaux (Foncia) in his daily message

 

"Hi there, For more than two hours, I have had light winds with sleet.  Hat and gloves time ... It's not easy to push the buttons on the pilot with gloves on!  This truly an international Vendée Globe, as I'm surrounded by foreigners.  So how do I say Verandas in English? Take care!"
Arnaud Boissières (Akena Vérandas)in his daily message

"All is good on the yellow submarine today. This morning we had strong gusts and I was shipping lots of water which made me feel like a submarine but that has eased as has the size of the surf. Gybing and moving the stack around below decks will keep me warm tonight as it is very cold at night but the dawn arrives early at about 3am which confuses your body clock slightly."

Dee Caffari (Aviva) in 16th place this evening, 736 miles from the leader.