"After the repairs had been finished at dawn yesterday, I slowly started sailing and the boat was going fine, ahead of the cold front in 40-50 knots of wind and the repair was holding. The cold front arrived just after dawn this morning and it was quite an unusual one, with the wind dropping and going into the west (which is normal), but then going into the south and blowing at 30 knots, which was not on any of the weather charts, and was a very big shift. This was a critical test for the repairs as the seas were shocking at this point, with the two differing wind directions and the boat was doing some serious slamming. I was so glad of the calm weather I had to do the repair properly; otherwise this would have been a bad place to be with a broken boat. Then the wind turned more SW and kept on increasing until it was a steady 50-60 knots for hour after hour. The seas were starting to build and the pilot was not liking the way the stern was getting thrown around by the mainsail. One thing that the design office had said was that extreme rudder load transfers through the boat to that front longitudinal would work it hard, so all things considered I decided to take the main down till the wind had subsided. So I tried to get the mainsail lowered going downwind, it was not budging, so I turned onto a reach in 55 knots and let the halyard down, it moved – but just a tiny bit. I was going to have to climb on the boom and pull the luff down by hand. This was a massive effort, but I eventually got it down, inch by inch. Whenever I let go of the sail it would shoot up again,  so it was 2 steps forward, and one step back to get the sail down. By the time I got back to the cockpit my finger tips were in pain from both the cold and clawing the sail down. I felt a bond with those common seamen standing on the yards of their square riggers, fighting to get the sails shortened on to the yards. 
As it was getting dark, the wind had dropped enough to try to raise the main. But I soon saw that the leeward lazy had broken and I would have to go up the mast to run a new lazyjack, not too high, maybe 8 metres, and then put up the mainsail. I was certain I could not get this all done by dark and it’s too tricky an operation to raise the main on your own in 35 knots without being able to see what is happening. So I decided to put up a bigger headsail and tidy up the boat, so that I am ready for the morning, when the wind and seas should be lighter too. I am glad that I made that choice as, in going round the boat, I saw that the force of the sea had dislodged both the man overboard module and the liferaft from the stern. The liferaft was just attached by its painter, so I was pretty close to seeing it inflate and be dragged off behind the boat. Fortunately, we all have another liferaft, but this is the better one of the two. It's now safely lashed at the front of the cockpit and I will have to tell the race committee that the seal on the liferaft is broken.It is unsurprising that 60 knots is not good for the speed or for reliability. I really had not expected this much wind, but again, its all part of the rich experience of the Vendee Globe race. So I am stuck for a few Christmas Eve hours going slowly."

Brian Thompson (Bahrain Team Pindar) in his daily message

"I'm taking a nap, because from dawn, I am going to have a lot of work to do. When you're enjoying your Christmas Eve, I'll be busy working (laughs)! I'm going to take advantage of the final calm hours to get everything ready to take in reefs and be prepared for the gales. The wind is due to strengthen at around midnight your time… I have already opened my presents, as I was running on local time"
Vincent Riou (PRB) talking to his team this afternoon
 

"I’ve just done a bit of tidying up. I couldn’t use the chart table any more with all the parcels! On opening the presents, I went from laughing to high emotion, all this kindness was overwhelming. I waited for sunset then I put in a reef and left the pilot to helm so I could open my parcels. I cut myself off from the boat a bit so my thoughts could centre on my nearest and dearest. Christmas is a festival which you spend amongst your family. It’s a privileged moment to think of those we love. You know that they’re thinking about you too, so it’s naturally an emotionally moment. I’ve already succumbed and had a little foie gras and candied chestnuts. So now I’ll have to make a bit of room in my stomach before I tackle the rest!”
Dominique Wavre (Temenos II) as he continues to head up towards SW Australia
 

"The conditions for my part of the fleet seem to have been atrocious I’m sure the guys up front have had their fair share too, but we have definitely drawn the short straw. The sea state has been the big problem, with huge towering confused seas that destroy boat speed and any real fast progress. I have been sailing conservatively as well to preserve the boat, and although it is frustrating at times I know it is the right thing to do for both myself and the boat. Relentless, taxing both mentally and physically, and demanding for the boat. At the moment the forecasts are giving similar condition for the next 10 days, until I get to the Pacific… it may still be the same there, but I really hope for some consistent wind and a forgiving sea state just for a while. I just can’t keep up with the pace of the leaders which I have to say is staggering. How they are holding it all together is beyond me. I have a little USB Christmas tree, which is sat on the chart table. I also have a bag of presents which I will enjoy opening – it might be the only time I will hope to get socks! And probably the first time I will not receive any! Happy Christmas from Jonny and Artemis II."
 

Loïck Peyron continues to head towards Australia under reduced sail and is getting ready to open his Christmas presents. He has also treated himself to the special Christmas meal that was prepared for him by some top chefs. Meanwhile, ashore his team are busy preparing for his arrival. They are currently examining the possibility of loading Gitana 80 on a container vessel that is due to leave Fremantle on 18th January for Le Havre. This journey home will take around a month and if plans go ahead, it is possible that Gitana 80 will be accompanied by some of the other boats that are currently heading for South-West Australia.
 

Maisonneuve has been moored in Port Elizabeth since yesterday morning: «I have just spent my first night in a bed for 40 days. The wind was blowing and woke me up. I thought I was still in the boat and it was time to reduce the sail… » On Monday afternoon, a few miles before arriving in Port Elizabeth Bay, the wind got up to 75 knots. "The atmospheric pressure climber 20 millibars in 5 hours. I was under staysail with three reefs in the main and the boat was still doing twenty knots. I have never seen anything like that at sea. I was really afraid. The seas were white and all I could see was foam. Overhead the clouds sped by at the speed of fighter jets... I shall return with one or two crew and some equipment early in January. We shall have a few days of work to do on board (halyards, pilots, sails) before sailing the boat home."

Jean-Baptiste Dejeanty (Maisonneuve) by e-mail.