Well, after a weary, eye rolling first 48 hours we're lying 10th overall (out of 116 boats in the cruising division). The extreme fatigue has gone, replaced with a broad grin as Peter & I are sailing a perfect broad reach, tootling along at 8 1/2 knots.
Fortunately, they're not been a spot of sea sickness from any of the crew thanks to Dr Cooper's rigid regime of Stugeron swiftly followed by a tot of Rum.
Happy Hour was a ball last night – we ate Morrocan Chicken, washed down with some Pinot Grigot we found in the fridge (thanks Dad) – all accompanied by an eclectic mix of T-Rex and The Clash pumping out of the stereo.
As per skippers regulations, happy hour lasts only for exactly that (as the crew individually, and as a team) have a tendency to over do it (see previous post on dislocated fingers). As such, at 1901, music was off, sails set, and night watch resumed.
All good so far just one mildly hairy moment when a shackle popped resulting in an uncontrolled jybe (the worst thing about this point of sailing).
All in all – we're happy as larry – Peter's running a daily sweepstake on our daily race position (its funny – we all said we weren't going to race, just get there. It seems we were all lying ) Dunc and Coop are doing a fantastic job as our really experienced racers – making sure we're getting the best bang for our buck from the steady winds (about 15-20 knots). Finally, thanks to the constant support from Rippaway HQ – Bill & Helen. Dad is donning his crew shirt for the entirety of the race (poor Mum) so if you do see Bill particularly in a week or so, with his shirt on inside and back to front it can be rest assured he's executing his 'how to make one piece of clothing last a month' strategy.
Love to you all,
From a contented crew of Good Ship Rippaway.