"I had a very interesting night behind Staten Island as the storm force northerlies blew down. For the first couple of hours it was relatively calm with 20 knots of wind and the boat comfortably sat hove to by a couple of tiny granite islands with just 4 reefs in the mainsail. Then the clouds started to increase, the rain began and the wind crept up. I started to sail up and down the 30 mile island to find the most sheltered spot.  I certainly seemed to have found the windiest at one point with violent 50 knot williwaws (gusts) coming down through a gap in the tall mountains. I sailed away downwind of this spot in driving rain so thick the radar could not pick out the tiny islands, and a very general chart on the computer. I used the old track of the boat on the computer and the GPS to reference our position against the landmarks so as not to hit the islands. A few miles downwind of the gap the winds fanned out and weakened to 30 knots so I hove to again with just the 4 reefs, lashed the wheels together to protect the rudders, and went below to monitor our position. Fortunately there was a current taking us to windward and with the leeway the boat was making through the water, we sat in roughly the same spot, 2 miles off the land. I stayed up to monitor our position and the weather until the wind dropped away at dawn as the depression passed almost overhead. The barometer dropped to 963mb which is very low. I then set the wind alarm and grabbed a short sleep. Before long the wind had started coming in from the SW, at 10 knots. Within 15 minutes this was 30 knots and I was heading for the west end of the island and the end of the Tierra del Fuegan holiday. By the time I was clear of the island it was up to 45 knots and the 4 reefs in the main quite adequate in the short sea that was coming from the previous northerly winds. So for a few hours I was in the eye of the storm as all around the winds raged in all directions. The day was spent sailing fast to the Falklands in increasing winds and seas. Wind was steadily between 45 and 55 knots and the seas got up to at least 7 metres despite the only 200 mile fetch to Patagonia. It felt just like the other side of the Horn. It was certainly the right thing to do to shelter from this storm, as I was not in the windiest zone, and it was plenty enough wind. In the evening I was approaching the Falklands so I did not sleep at all to make sure that we avoided the rocky coastline. The Falklands are likely to be the last land I see until the finish in about a month’s time."
Brian Thompson (Bahrain Team Pindar) in his daily message

"Boat taking terrible pounding in 18-22 foot cross seas, breaking seas. Boat motion is violent, dangerous outside on deck, and dangerous inside also--must be braced in every direction at all times. I eased the keel cant some last night so that the boat would crash land more on her side than on her bottom, that seemed to help. To go into the engine/keel compartment for that adjustment, I felt it necessary to wear my helmet in case I got thrown across the compartment. With a winch, jammers, and a vise, all very hard objects that I might fetch up on, I could get hurt. Only about 2 hours sleep in last 40 or so, watching instruments, trying to think of anything I could do to ease the onslaught. I kept easing the mainsail out, until almost not bearing at all, and that seemed to help. The sea state is big and chaotic, and no sail adjustments are going to solve that."

Rich Wilson (Great American III)

After a long voyage back up the Atlantic following his retirement from the Vendée Globe on the 7th December because of a damaged rudder, the Basque sailor Unai Basurko finally reached his home port of Getxo (Bilbao) late this morning. It was clearly an emotional time for the skipper of Pakea Bizkaia, as the crowds turned out to welcome him home in brilliant sunshine.
 

"Earlier we sailed directly into the trough of the elongated low, the extra tropical storm HETA, which has been sitting here in mid-Pacific spinning off secondary lows. Heta is finally about to move itself to the southeast and on to Cape Horn. After getting the big wind shift at the trough mid-point, we are coming out the east side and heading directly for the east Pacific ice gate. The wind will build, and the seas will build, and so we are hunkered down with the sail combination ready for when that happens, giving up some speed, but its OK for me. Even though we're going across the seas, the boat is pounding as it goes off waves and crashes into the troughs. Some of these are absolutely bone jarring. Last night, when we gybed in the trough to go east, I went forward and bailed the forward compartments, 4 buckets from the forepeak, and had to use the bilge pump system to bail the sail locker amidships. Also, since I could still hear water sloshing in the compartment underneath the cockpit, and our two autopilot compasses are in there, I got the water out of there, not by going back and bailing in the lazerette, because that was far too dangerous and ineffective, but by draining the compartment into the main cabin. We have a small screw drain plug between the two compartments, and although it took a while to get comfortable with draining water into the cabin, it was the simplest. Good news is that the water stayed on one side of the centerline, and I could bail it into a bucket, pour that into the sink in the main cabin, and then pump it overboard. It was simpler, and we got 4 buckets out of the cockpit compartment."
Rich Wilson (Great American III) in his daily message
 

"Yesterday will remain an extraordinary day for me; I arrived off Tierra del Fuego in a breeze, then squalls with 50-knot winds and after that the skies cleared enabling me to see the snow capped mountains (magical!). The wind then eased off and I found myself with no wind and had to carry out manoeuvres with the dolphins alongside; the Horn was just ahead, but the wind was a header and I could only see it from afar. I was the seventh to round close to Dee. Sailing in the Southern Seas was an enriching experience, both in terms of the sights and the general atmosphere. the Ocean rules and does not hesitate to remind us of that. Then, there are the marvellous albatrosses. Thanks to the South! I'll be back having gained a lot of experience and having learnt a lot. As the seas were rough, I decided I would only open the bottle for the Cape tomorrow. the worst of the wind is behind me, but I need to remain cautious; the seas are still high and offering some incredible surfs"..
Arnaud Boissières (Akena Vérandas) in his daily message
 

"I have just spent the longest time just gazing out of my door looking at all that is around me. It won't be long now and the Southern Ocean will be behind me, for a while at least, and I shall really miss it, it has been fantastic - bleak, desolate, isolated, powerful, all of those things, but immeasurably beautiful too, with undoubtably the best sailing in the world. I am ready to leave the South though now; firstly before I break anything else more serious than the loo seat and the kettle handle, both casualties of the last blow, and secondly because then it will be nearer the time when I can come back better prepared and more knowledgable, and as much as I love my old boat, I would like to return in a faster one and keep up with the front runners. As such my thoughts are turning in earnest to looking for a sponsor to take us through to the 2012 Vendee Globe. It will be strange indeed to get back on that treadmill, but I think things will be different for us after this, and people will take us a bit more seriously. I always thought that I would want to do 2012 as well, but now I have experienced most of this race, I know I want to, and there is a big difference. First, however, I have to get home. The breeze has constantly been ranging between fifteen and thirty five knots under some enormous cumulus clouds, which makes sail choices difficult, but we are moving, and I am grateful for that, and we have only two days to go to Cape Horn. The blow we had did us some favours though, it was good fast sailing, downwind and then reaching in strong conditions with a good sea state, and the most wind we saw was about forty eight knots, so not bad at all really and certainly not as bad as forecast, so we made some good time. After the worst of the weather had passed us by, I was drying out my swamp downstairs, bucket and sponge in hand, when there was a big hissing noise, then a thump, and the boat fell over. It seemed for the longest time like water just poured and poured over the boat, shutting out the light, but in reality it probably only lasted a few seconds. I banged my cheekbone on something trying to hold onto a half full bucket of grubby bilge water! I remember thinking "Well that'll teach you to speak too soon!" I don't know if I have a bruise, the only mirror I have is just about good enough to check I haven't chopped my ears off whilst shaving! (Kim was horrified because I asked her to bring some shaving oil to Les Sable when she comes out to the finish as I ran out ages ago, and when I told her I was using cooking oil instead she was horrified! She says she doesn't want me coming home smelling, but the thing is, when I've had a shave I smell like tortellini, and that makes me hungry!) When I went outside all of my normally neatly bagged bits of string were streaming out behind the boat! Luckily the storm staysail in its bag in the cockpit was tied on! There was no sign of my big wave, it had just blended into the scenery and gone. I was glad I hadn't been on deck....."
Steve White (Toe in the Water) in his daily message