The harbour walls around the entrance to the port of Les Sables d’Olonne as well as the quayside in la Chaume are beginning to fill up this afternoon. Several thousand people are waiting, in spite of the bitter cold easterly wind in Vendée. Just off the shore outside of the harbour entrance, several boats are making their way out to greet Michel Desjoyeaux.

Roland Jourdain, who has been sailing without a keel since Thursday morning, is due to arrive in the Azores on Monday morning. Bilou has not yet decided whether he will be forced to retire or whether he will be able to continue his race to Les Sables d’Olonne. In case it becomes necessary for him to retire, two members of his shore team, Nicolas de Castro and Luis Guervos, are on their way to Ponta Delgada. Roland is currently sailing at 4.2 knots simply under staysail.

Yesterday afternoon, Michel Desjoyeaux crossed the ridge of high pressure and his progress was halted during the night for a few hours. This morning his speed has picked up again. In the 10h00 GMT rankings, Foncia was sailing at ten knots and is a mere 45 miles from Les Sables d’Olonne. However, he will have to deal with headwinds for a few hours. According to the latest information from Météo France, he is likely to be sailing in south-easterly winds, which will be backing easterly and strengthening to 20-25 knots around midday. This means that he will have to tack upwind with several changes of tack necessary.

Michel Desjoyeaux is set to finish this afternoon thus winning his second Vendée Globe. You can follow the finish live on the website: the crossing of the finishing line by Foncia, the entrance into the harbour in Port Olona, followed by Michel Desjoyeaux stepping ashore and climbing onto the podium in Les Sables d'Olonne. Half an hour or so after this, you will also be able to watch the press conference. Michel will be talking about his race and answering questions from the press.

“Roxy has already made it past 10°N, the conditions remain the same - bumpy and wet, but good wind and OK speed! I have had to alter course to avoid ships today - the last one being just an hour ago. This is a risky business, as it involves being on deck to adjust course and sail trim. Being night time, we are continually under the attack by kamikaze flying fish, and each "THWACK" makes me wince in pain! Their closing speed with Roxy must be quite fast, and impact painful or even deadly. Therefore, being on deck at night, I am at risk of getting a direct hit, and, having had several near misses, I can say that it is particularly unpleasant to receive a slimy, smelly flapping fish in ones face! Luckily I got away untouched this time! Unfortunately, though yesterday morning Roxy was a bit of a flying fish graveyard. The most disappointing find was that one flying fish had managed to get itself head-first into my tea-cup (which was sitting in a rope bag - a lazy way of doing the washing up!) So, no matter how much I cleaned my cup, I was certain that my morning tea had a slightly fishy taste to it -YUK! That will teach me to do my washing up properly! So right now I am keeping my fingers crossed that all is well on board Foncia. I hope Mich is enjoying his last night alone at sea. Tomorrow is going to be a very special day in Les Sables d'Olonne! I'm a little bit sad to miss this great moment, but at the same time, the thought of being in Les Sables d'Olonne is quite strange, and I think I am happier out here!”
Sam Davies (Roxy) in her daily message
 

“Sailing away from France discouragingly, trying to get to the other side of this massive low that is forecast to envelope the entire southwest south Atlantic. Tacked last night to head for the oncoming trough. Had it calibrated well I thought with input from both gfs grib and ec grib files and noaa from the us. The only map disagreeing was Météo France, which of course turned out to be right, or at least I think, since I've gone 100 miles past where the grib files said the trough would be, up to 6 hours from when it was supposed to be there, and I'm still going west. Now the wind has dropped from the 35-45 knots that we had, with 18-21' breaking seas that built out of nowhere, and we had storm jib and 3 reefs in the main, and when it got to 50 knots of wind, and the boat is going 20 knots down the seas, I could not decide whether it was more risky to try to lower the mainsail in 50 knots of wind, or to let the boat continue at 20 knots.
This kind of sailing is frightening. And it wears on your nerves. Particularly when all the data is wrong. Luckily, I can get the storm jib up quickly, and we have a good system for that with a deck bag. The storm jib has been lashed on deck since we sailed past South Africa. I think that I have had it up probably 15 or 16 times. And have had the mainsail down entirely, at least twice, maybe 3 times. I have been struck by how stunningly accurate the grib files have been for barographic pressure, but not at all for wind direction or velocity, and it only took a little bit of time this morning to match up our barograph and the grib files to see that they were off in ways that they haven't been, so something was definitely wrong. The real challenge in these situations is the internal decision-making and self-doubt. Should I take the main down, or not? When does that staysail get rolled and the storm jib go up? Should we run off with these huge seas and prodigious speed and risk burying the bow and worse, or should we try to jog upwind a bit at very slow speeds, without the mainsail? Who knows what the right answer is?”
Rich Wilson (Great American III) in his daily message