“I have been savouring another magical moment tonight. It's unusual, as there is not much wind, and normally in the light winds I am frustrated to not be going faster, but tonight (I don't know why) I'm zen and just enjoying it - how can you not? I should be getting some sleep, but I can't drag myself away from the cockpit, where I sit, under the stars with the full sails towering black silhouettes above me. Roxy is trickling along on a flat sea, and the air is so warm I'm in my T-shirt. There is a ship a few miles away trundling past, his nav lights twinkle on the horizon. It's hard to describe, but it is just a great moment, out here alone with my Roxy boat, with peaceful conditions that allow me to look back and think about everything we've done together so far! But sleep is important, so now I am going to get some rest. I have decided that the quality of my sleep is related to how fast Roxy is going! When she's going really fast I seem to sleep so much better! So, I think I should count sleep in miles and not in hours.... for example, 2 hours sleep at a speed of 7 knots is equivalent to 1 hours sleep at 14 knots - i.e. 14 miles sleep. So, seeing as we're not going too fast tonight, I need a few hours sleep to get a decent rest!”
Sam Davies (Roxy) in his daily message
 

“Like back in France, out here on my veranda, I’m getting ready to go on strike. They lied to me. They haven’t kept their promises. I was supposed to get an easterly wind and all I get is a northerly! I shall be out demonstrating against this and campaigning for an increase of ten knots. It’s just not possible to discuss with those who are responsible in Wind HQ. I’m also fighting for reductions in diesel consumption. Long live solar panels and wind generators!"
Arnaud Boissières (Akena Vérandas)in his daily message
 

180 miles from the Equator, Marc Guillemot (Safran) is beginning to worry about what lies ahead, “Armel Le Cléac’h got through the Doldrums without any hold ups, but it’s not certain that it’s going to be like that for us. Yesterday, I looked at where Mich, Bilou and of course, Armel were. In the next 48 hours, we’re in a different race, so it’s up to me to get through the Doldrums as quickly as possible”

“It is eerily quiet on the boat as I write. It is never silent at sea, there is always the wind, the waves lapping and the buzz of the autopilot, but now, when the pilot stops for a few seconds or if you stand at the front where you are too far away to hear it there is only deafening silence..........there is not even any swell to slat the sails back and forth. The sea is like glass, and the sun is so bright you can't look to the horizon because of the glare. These conditions are not condusive to happy sailing, particularly if you are racing, but if you take the time to look a whole other world opens up. The water is the most indescribable blue with the sun directly overhead, and it illuminates the top few metres very well. If you look over the side you can see millions of small creatures, mainly simple animals, worms and creatures like free swimming (or drifting!) coral polyps, with bodies about an inch long and then inch long tentacles. They pass by in their millions, and at night when the stars are out in all their glory as we near the equator, they put on their own lightshow to match. If the boat is stopped, they just flash all around you, and if you are moving, they flash furiously as they are churned up by the wake.

When it is as flat as it is now, you also become aware of all the jellyfish that are around - hundreds of them, mainly small Portuguese Man-O-War, but other kinds with small sails too, which puts me off swimming I can tell you! Today though I had a treat, as we trundled along at about two knots, I looked up and saw something floating which I first thought was a wooden box, then I thought it was a dead animal, but it turned out to be a turtle! It was very near the boat, about as big as a dustbin lid, with a beard of red slimy looking weed around its shell. The top of its shell was clear of weed however, and brown but whitened with salt as it basked in the sun, raising its flippers out of the water to warm them too. It raised it's head to look at us as we went by, and then was gone. Magic! When I looked over the back of the boat earlier when we were actually moving, I saw what I thought was some fishing line around one of the rudders, and not wanting it to leave it there to finish up killing some poor creature I grabbed the boathook and fished it off to put it in the bin, but it wouldn't come free - it was very strong. When it did come and I dragged it aboard it turned out not to be fishing line, but the tentacle of a Portuguese Man-O-War, about five feet long! I threw it back and hurriedly washed my hands!”
Steve White (Toe in the Water) in his daily message
 

“After yesterday's visit by a Chilean naval patrol aircraft, about an hour ago, we were buzzed by a fighter plane, likely Royal Air Force from Falklands. Blue sky, moderate seas, many albatross early on, now fewer. I was struck by how cold it was last night, with the same northwest wind as we had in the pacific on the approach to Cape Horn. But there, the air was coming from the mid-latitudes of the Pacific, here it is coming down from the Andes, so same wind, vastly different temperature. Have contemplated wiring together the two wind wands at the top of the mast. One has windspeed, but no direction, the other, I thought, had direction but no windspeed. By cross wiring data feeds, we could get both. Before tackling, decided to check to make sure we actually had wind angle on the secondary, and, it turns out, no, so whole plan is off. Means I have to continue to look at windex at top of mast to get angle of apparent wind, cannot have the pilot steer by anything except compass. I have a spare wand, but problem is, don't know it perhaps the problem is the cable, so if I tried to get all the way to the top of the mast, and install a new wand, ti might not make any difference, for that risk. Contemplated stopping in lee of Falklands. We'll see, but frankly I doubt it for tonight/tomorrow. We've been without since last east Pacific ice gate, and it definitely makes the sailing harder and slower and less efficient, and harder to sleep, but we've made it this far, so maybe we have to go the rest of the way this way. Have some serious computer glitches that are only solved by frequent rebooting. How did we ever get a worm virus into the computer via the satellite system, what a pain, and hope that I don't have to go to the backup laptop.”
Rich Wilson (Great American III) in his daily message
 

“A hot day, and a hot, muggy night...I can tell we are getting closer to the doldrums as the humidity is increasing and the wind is becoming more and more unstable. When I lay down to have a sleep, Roxy was doing 16-18 knots with 18 knots of wind, and that produces top quality sleep! I didn't need my alarm, however, as the slowing down woke me up immediately as the next squally cloud approached. The previous squall produced 26 knot gusts, but this latest one a pathetic 10 knots.... lots of trimming required!
Energy in the form of oatcakes and honey, although the trouble is that even the thick honey has a mind of it's own in this heat and it is impossible to keep it on the biscuit, especially in the dark.... sticky fingers and sticky cockpit floor as a result!”
Sam Davies (Roxy) in her daily message