After the 2006 ARC, a month's cruising in St Lucia and then another month in Antigua, it's time to return to Europe, heading for Valencia and the America's Cup, via the Azores.

The crew is owner and skipper Colin Hall, veteran Master Mariner Elles Bicknell and retired software specialist Mike Morgan. This is Colin's fourth Atlantic crossing, Elles has spent years at sea, and Mike has done several legs of the BT Challenge, so between us we should have some idea of what we're letting ourselves in for.

We left Jolly Harbour at 1500 local time (GMT+4) yesterday after a three hour taxi tour of the Port Authority offices on the island - it was a Bank Holiday, and currently we're 120 nautical miles ENE of Antigua. Those of you who know will ask why we're not 120 miles north of Antigua. It's the weather: the Azores high is NE of the Azores and there's a deep depression off Florida that according to our weather expert Chris Tibbs 'is unusual in its position and intensity and it needs close monitoring'. And so we are making as much easting as we can as the usual wind pattern is not there.

One disadvantage of this is that it's very hot. If you head north from Antigua towards Bermuda, it soon starts to cool off a bit. But heading east as we are, we're still very much in the very hot bits. Elles slept on deck last night. Mike and I sweated it out down below. It was lovely and cool on deck at 0600, but at 1000 it's already back up at 32 degrees and climbing.

So far, the wind has varied between 4 knots and 12 knots, mostly from the south east. From 4 to 8 knots, we motor sail otherwise we'd be out here for three weeks. (It's 2,190 miles from Antigua to Horta in the Azores, our planned destination.) We're sailing along at about 7 knots at present, but most of yesterday and overnight, the engine was on.

Even less than 24 hours out of Antigua and with lots of other yachts heading for Europe, we haven't seen a sign of any other boat by day or night. Our only company so far has been the lady French coastguard who tries to entice us to another Channel to listen to her navigation report en français and some dolphins that paid a visit when Mike was on night watch.

We plan to write a page a day and will send it to a select band of family and friends. Please feel free to pass it on if you wish, but please don't pass on our email address as the Iridium phone is very slow and can easily get blocked up if emails are too long.

For those of you with a chart, our position at 1200 GMT (0800 local/ship's time) was 17N 56.3', 60W 19.9' and the distance covered since departure was 96.6nm.

We'll be in touch.

'The Boysterous boys.' 08/05/07

Each time I've crossed the Atlantic, we saw only one steamer per crossing. So imagine the surprise when last night, around midnight, we saw two within an hour of each other.

The radar picks them up about 14 miles away and we then track them visually and with the MARPA facility in the plotter which works out their course and speed, and then projects the point of closest approach. Clever stuff. Both ships passed about four miles astern.

The radar also picks up approaching squalls and to some extent, you can dodge the worst of them. Last night they came thick and fast. In between, the wind was down to about five knots so we motor sailed. But close to the squalls, we roll out the genny in the bigger winds to conserve diesel. Last nights squalls were very modest - maximum twelve knots of wind but still plenty of rain to souse the crew as they wound the genoa in and out.

The squalls have now run out, the sun is shining, we have a SE Force 3 which is enough to push us up the rhumb line at 8 knots, direct to the Azores.

This morning's weather forecast was quite encouraging after the shifty variable winds of the last 18 hours. Chris is forecasting east to south-east winds of mostly 10 to 15 knots till Friday which should see us well up the direct track and away from the depression off Florida.

As we get used to life on board, Elles is below reading the Sunday Times and Mike is snoozing in the cockpit with an occasional eye on the log and sails. It's still very hot below so the fans are running to stir the air up a bit. Even so, after a picnic lunch in the cockpit there's a dive below to hide from the sun

We know that an Oyster 55, 'Om Shanti' left English Harbour at about the same time as we left Jolly Harbour, but there's no response on the VHF. So apart from the occasional bird and the strangers in the night, there's nothing else to report except the ship's ghost - Elles clad in his white 'Andy Pandy' suit and Factor 50, and more sea.

Position at 1200 GMT on 9 May: 19N 35', 58W 24', 24 hour run: 136 nm.

The Boysterous Boys  09/05/07

Neither Mike nor I can remember an ocean voyage when we've seen more steamers than dolphins, four to two when I started this session.

That's hardly a lot of either, and we blame Elles for the steamers as they come to pay homage to the venerable Master Mariner. As for the dolphins, it's unusual to have seen none since three days ago, but maybe they'll turn up one day. And another ship has just shown up on the radar making it 5:2.

Meanwhile, we're making good progress to the Azores. The absence of the Azores high means that we are now in a consistent south-easterly Force 3 which is helping us to track parallel to the rhumb line (47°T), pointing more or less direct to Horta, our first port of call. At noon GMT today, we had covered 387 nautical miles on the log, with a day's run of 153 miles. However, we've actually done rather better than this as the GPS says that Jolly Harbour in Antigua, our point of departure is 428 miles away. The log is under-reading, so later today we'll 'clock' it and speed it up a bit - always good for morale.

With a good steady wind it's well over 24 hours since we last had to motor through the lulls between the squalls, good for conserving diesel in case we need to make a dash for home later. The generator is looking after the batteries as needed. Our only problem is that the electric toaster has broken, an excess of salt water, so it's back to the gas grill in the oven. This is fine in harbour but when the oven is swinging on its gimbals, does try to chop your fingers off.

Small eats have been called for, so the menu for the last 24 hours has been:
Lunch: Deli ham, olive and pimiento sausage, tomato and onion salad, and lettuce.
Dinner: Asparagus soup and toast, Chicken strips marinated in lime juice, tomato and carrot sauce and Moroccan couscous. A certain reluctance to broccoli emerged in the form of, 'asparagus soup is a green vegetable', but we'll get him.
Breakfast: fresh apple, banana and grapes in yogurt.

The weather forecast is for more or less of the same for another 36 hours by which time we will have been on the same starboard tack for four and a half days. If the then forecast south-westerly comes in, we should still be able to point straight at the destination but upright for a change.

The Boysterous Boys  10/05/07

Mike opens today with his thoughts from the night watch:

'Boysterous is normally to be found showing off her fine lines cruising round the best marinas in the Caribbean, but over the last 24 hours she has been showing off her athletic prowess sprinting across the Atlantic at 8.5 knots. On watch at 3am this morning she was smoothly gliding over a gently rolling Atlantic swell in a straight line for the Azores drawn along by the warm wind blowing through the cockpit. These are some of the best sailing moments a transatlantic sailor can experience with the turmoil of a modern world a distant memory. If only we could save the experience and then open it later!'

We can hardly believe our luck: several hours of fast sailing straight at the Azores in a fairly calm sea means that at 1200 GMT, we were 594 nautical miles from Jolly Harbour with 1562 to go as the crow flies, though there aren't many crows out here.

In view of the continuing absence of dolphins and the sighting of another steamer by radar only, we reckoned that with steamers ahead by 6 ½ to 2, we'd start counting birds as well. By dawn today we had seen probably only a dozen, usually lone birds, when in came one shearwater followed a few minutes later by twenty or more. There must be fish around, and so there should be dolphins too. But all we saw were big patches of weed, still around two hours later. I wonder where it comes from but it's certainly a long way away.

The weather forecast is for more of the same for another two days or so which is good news. We've plotted the course so far on the same chart as I used for our previous Atlantic crossings and it shows just what a direct route we're on compared with the usual route via Bermuda. The ARC Europe was due to start for Bermuda from Antigua yesterday, straight into the bad weather off Florida. It makes us feel very lucky to be where we are.

We 'clocked' the log by 5% yesterday afternoon so that it is now not so far behind the GPS derived figures. Nevertheless, there is still a difference: our noon log reading was 549 miles covered compared with 604 by GPS, and the 24 hour run was 162 by log and 176 by GPS. We prefer the GPS figures! (Noon position: 23N 48', 53W 57')

We've nearly finished last week's Sunday Times. The 'Culture' has been devoured to such an extent that we may have a concert later. Present company makes a ballet unlikely, but strange things happen at sea…

The Boysterous Boys 11/05/07

The wind is changing. Over the last two days it has gradually veered from ESE round to South.

That has been good for speed up the rhumb line, but now the wind is getting too far aft for speed. We're reaching above the rhumb line at present to keep speed up until it's worth bearing away and poling out the genny to get further north. So, after five days on a starboard fetch, we might have to do something with the sails other than a minor trim now and again. It is always a contrast out here between the enormous ocean weather systems and the short term weather of the Channel.

Today's noon position was 25N 52', 51W 28' with a day's run of 183 nautical miles, a total of 787 miles covered and 1370 miles to go. The plotter optimistically forecasts '7 days, 17 hours' to destination, but we don't believe that as there may be light winds astern for a day or so. 'When are we getting there?' We shall see, but once we're over half way, we know that we can motor in.

Just one distant steamer last night - steamers 7 ½: dolphins 2.

It is now a little cooler and we need an extra layer on watch at night. Otherwise, it's a comfortable ride as the wind is going astern and there is less heel. Routines are well established with fixed rather than rotating watches. I do 2100-0000, Elles does 0000 to 0300, Mike sees the dawn in between 0300 and 0600, and I do 0600 - 0900.

Elles has a little story to tell, but first - how did we all get here?

Last November / December I crossed to St Lucia from Gran Canaria on the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC). After some family cruising over Christmas and the New Year, we left the boat ashore in St Lucia. Then at the end of March, Matt and I sailed Boysterous up to Antigua for some small repairs, Nome came for a short cruise, and then we were into Oyster Week and Antigua Sailing Week. Mike came out for Oyster Week (2nd in Class 2), while Elles joined us for the last race in Sailing Week. This is his tale:

'When Colin invited me to join him on this return trip I thought he was quite mad but I jumped at the chance to renew my association with deep water (old salt etc). The experience has been great fun in good company and proves yet again the last thing you need when you retire is slippers!

'I arrived just in time to join in the last race of Antigua Week, during which I understand a helicopter took a photo of me on my back on the aft cabin top. I want to dispel the malevolent rumours emanating from this incident by pointing out that I was simply demonstrating how a turtle lies on its back.'
A likely story!

The Boysterous Boys 12/05/07

Last night, the wind dropped a bit as predicted, but we kept up a good speed and no motoring was required. Today the weather forecast is entirely different.

The depression off Florida that we avoided earlier in the week by starting off to the east became tropical weather feature 'Andrea', the first of the season, and is now blowing gales around Bermuda, just where the ARC Europe competitors are heading. The relevance to us is that it is then coming to get us on Wednesday, albeit with a reduced maximum forecast wind of 30 knots. In the meantime, winds will gradually increase from today so slowing down is no longer the problem! After the depression gets to us on Wednesday, the problem will be north-easterly winds, so we'll probably end up with a beat into Horta. Still, it sounds a lot better than Bermuda.

This sort of stuff concentrates the mind, so we've been checking a few engine and rigging related things, rigging the inner forestay and staysail, and other bits and pieces while the boat is still steady. No problems found and we yacht along at 6 - 7 knots waiting for the wind. Ironically, we can't make any water on this gybe because we're going too fast.

Our noon position was 27N 44', 48W 48'. We had a day's run of 174 nautical miles and have covered a total of 961 miles with 1205 to go.

In the meantime, we thought we'd ask the neighbours over for Sunday brunch. It's a long time since the Dolphins came by and they're now 9 1/2 : 2 behind the steamers. After leaving them a trail of onion skins, broccoli stalks and meat trimmings, we thought that scrambled eggs on toast, sausages, tomatoes, beans and Buck's Fizz might be more than they could resist. We'll let you know.

Elles is recalling stories of old cronies at the Southern including Rex King and David Herbert. These include late night encounters with the harbour steps in Alderney, rugby coaches to Paris and the occasion when Rex poured his port over Elles for failing to observe the proper etiquette in such matters. But apart from being an ancient mariner, Elles is also a 'modern man': today he is wearing his trendy short longs with ties at the bottom, and re-charging his iPOD from the USB socket on the laptop. Whatever next?

Now to the galley before the neighbours turn up.

The Boysterous Boys

We might have guessed that the Dolphins wouldn't show up for Sunday brunch.

Maybe they're away for the weekend, or on holiday. But if we don't see them in a few days time, we're thinking that we ought to tell Cetacean Services so that they can investigate. Meanwhile, another steamer this morning is building their lead up steadily.

At about 0130 this morning, 0630 your time, we were half way there with 1083 nautical miles covered and the same to go - as the crow flies. But we are still expecting more wind, and then headwinds, so the poor old crow may yet end up flying the wrong way. Still, more wind means more speed, and as the wind has gradually built up, we are back to sailing at 8+ knots up the rhumb line after a quiet night, apart from the motor.

Quiet also that is apart from some minor computer crashes. Having reached 1007 miles, the log suddenly reverted to 16.8 miles. I could understand it going from 999 to 0 and starting again but why 1007 to 16.8? While investigating the half way point, Elles found that the distant waypoints had mysteriously moved in the night and the route had disappeared. Was this a) divine intervention, b) a binary irregularity, or c) a personal digital malfunction? The prize for the first correct answer out of the hat is a night at sea with the remnants of tropical storm Andrea.

The food is lasting well: the only casualty so far has been a bag of slimy carrots. The bananas and grapes will run out tomorrow and we're going onto rations of one tea bag for two cups from now, and more coffee. The toaster has broken and we have so much bread that Mike is going to turn it into French toast at lunchtime. We tried making toast in the microwave's grill but all we got was dried bread, and the problem with using the grill in the oven is one of finger amputation as the oven swings on its gimbals past the crash bar. From this, you will gather that it's tough out here. Anyone got a spare toaster?

Our noon GMT position was 29N 06, 46E 04 and the day's run was172 miles.

More excitement tomorrow?

The Boysterous Boys

The wind gradually built up to 15-20 knots from the south overnight. This suited us fine and we are now creaming along at 9-10 knots with one reef in the main, three rolls in the genny and the staysail up.

The true wind is just aft of the beam and apart from the odd big wave that rolls us or projects itself over the spray hood, this is a remarkably uneventful way of heading to one's destination at close to 10 knots. At noon GMT today we were at 30°N 53', 43°W 04' with a day's run of 190 miles and 844 miles to Horta.

But which destination - Horta, or Ponta Delgada where the aeroplanes go? The weather will probably decide ultimately. We are tramping along ahead of a big bad trough full of gusty wind and rain. The longer we can stay ahead, the weaker its effect will be when it catches us up. Also, the longer we can stay ahead, the less we will have to beat up to the islands for the final day or two. So, as the wind is set to back from the south through east to north east on Friday, we're aiming for Ponta Delgada at 60°T on the basis that if the north-easterly comes too soon, we can bear away to Horta (53°T) instead. Is that all clear? It makes sense out here because there's not a lot else to do at the moment.

This morning, we took a walk on the foredeck, setting the staysail, sorting out a clanking noise from the vang / mast joint, and unravelling some reefing lines. A gentle, salty lukewarm shower was our reward, plus a smooth fast ride and everything ready for the next wind increase.

A pack of broccoli has gone missing - allegedly. We still have green beans, cauliflower, carrots, onions, lettuce, tomatoes and potatoes, but what happened to the broccoli? There is some speculation about the culprit, but no charges have been laid for lack of evidence and so speculation will continue.

What time is it? Well, out here it's whatever time is convenient. Up to now, we have continued on Antiguan time, GMT-4 or BST-5. But this morning, the sun rose at 0330 while last night it set at 1800. Mike is deprived of his night watch because it's now nearly all in daylight. Evenings have become about half an hour shorter since we left Antigua. So after a crew meeting, it was decided that we should join Azores time at 1200 today. So two hours later it's now 1700 Azores time, not 1400 Antigua time. It's still 1900 BST or 1800 GMT. The problem is that we don't know if the Azores has Summer Time, in which case we're an hour late. Worrying isn't it? At least we'll have dinner in daylight - we hope.

It's now cooler by day - 28.5 C, but there's still a fierce sun, and last night needed an extra layer from the cool wind and heavy dew fall. But this is so far an unexpectedly fine run from Antigua. The northern route was affected by tropical storm Andrea, while we have so far just yachted up the rhumb line. No tacking or gybing. Will we remember what to do? Time will tell.

The Boysterous Boys

PS: Still no dolphins.

1. A bump in the night - two actually, had Mike and Elles checking the bilges for leaks.

At 8 knots, hitting something solid can cause damage. It wasn't metallic enough for an oil drum, or solid enough for one of the legendary thousands of containers floating just under water. It was too solid for a whale, but Elles has hit something similar before on his own boat. It was probably a pallet, hit a glancing blow on the starboard side of the hull, spun round and hit with another corner. There's nothing to see that we can see, but we may have a couple of bare patches of anti-fouling below the waterline. (I was fast asleep at the time.)

2. Out here, you occasionally hear a brief message on VHF Channel 16, but rarely do you see anything on the radar at the same time. This morning, Mike was catching up with what looked like a yacht's masthead light and a very weak radar signal. We overtook it about three miles to leeward, when we heard a message, 'Yacht Mousekiller calling yacht close by.' There wasn't anyone else around, so we replied. It turned out that 'Gry' and her Norwegian family had problems with their Iridium satellite phone and they were asking us to contact the provider for help. Having paid €500 in advance for airtime, they were getting the message 'invalid account' even though they had made no calls. We called Paradise Yachting in Puerto Rico with our satellite phone for them to investigate, and then called them back. There are always two sides to a story: several long calls had been made - but by whom? Iridium were still checking but would reconnect if there was airtime left. When we called 'Mousekiller' again on the VHF to relay this, there was less emphasis on the bit about no calls having been made. Had the culprit confessed? And anyway, it's not 'Mousekiller' but 'Mas Que Nada'. But they did volunteer a gin & tonic in Peter's Cafe Sport in Horta for our trouble. Our good deed for the day.

3. Yesterday we saw two free floating buoys. We nearly hit the first, a small white sphere with a radar top mark. The second was a spar with a reflector on a base about quarter of a mile away. You don't expect to have to dodge lobster pots and unlit buoys when you are literally at least a thousand miles from land. The current theory is that the first was a speed camera, the second was checking that we were not in the bus lane, and the bump - thump in the middle of the night was when we ran over a sleeping policeman.

4. Today we did our first noon to noon run of over 200 miles - 205 to be precise. Our noon position was 32N 27', 39W 30'. Yesterday, the wind got up and we were really moving. Today, the wind has dropped and we're back down to 7 - 8 knots but still going in the right direction with 613 miles to Horta and 718 to Ponta Delgada. Tomorrow, we will decide where will have the privilege of accepting our last East Caribbean Dollars.

The Boysterous Boys  16/05/07

All good things must come to an end - and they have. 

Last time you heard from us, Blogger Bicknell advised you that we were motor sailing along under main with sunny blue skies, direct to Horta 481 miles away.  This continued into the early hours when the wind shifted and we were no longer pointing straight at Horta.  But then it obligingly went so far round that we were again, on the other tack.

This was just a warning of things to come - more wind, straight down the track.  We went this way and that way, sails up and sails down, but to keep up some speed and a reasonable angle, it's motoring under main, a grey sky and a choppy sea.  It reminded me of two things: our younger son Matt used to go up into the forepeak on our old boat when it was choppy and play 'bouncy castles' with hoots of laughter, while his older brother Ali felt under the weather in the cockpit; we have just done Oyster Week and Antigua Sailing Week with David and Emma Norcross who are now living aboard in the Caribbean having sold their bouncy castle and other businesses.  But …

While writing this, I just noticed the headlining round the mast bulging again.  The aft chocks have dropped out and the front ones were on the way out.  We thought we'd had this problem sorted out in Antigua, but everything stops for chocks, and an hour or so later, the front ones have been pushed in again and held up with duct tape, while the back ones have been replaced with split softwood plugs, also held up with duct tape.  We'll see how they last and then do a better job in Horta now 280 miles away.  And we were doing so well …

The dolphins finally arrived in reasonable force, not the bottlenose dolphins you see at Disneyland, but striped or spotted dolphins, a similar shape but smaller.  Mike was once again the only witness as I was having my siesta and it was Elles's activity in the heads that finally drove them away.  Anyway, we need a few more before they catch up with the steamers - we make it 17:14 at present, but expect to see many more around the islands.

The Captain and Crew of S/Y Boysterous
Invite you to
The Captain's Cocktail Party
On board Boysterous at 1930 GMT
On Saturday 19 May 2007
At 37° 07.873N, 031° 07.027W
On the Eve of their Arrival in Horta
RSVP: Boysterous@sent.com  Dress: Smart yachting

See you there tomorrow.

The Boysterous Boys  18/05/07

'Shall we tell them the truth then?' I asked.  'Yes', said Mike.  'Tell them we're well and truly stuffed.'

So there you have it.  It couldn't go on for ever.  We had far more than our share of good winds sailing fast up the rhumb line from Antigua.  Now it's our turn to suffer, but only frustration not real rough times.  As last night wore on, the seas got more confused and we were lacking any real punch to get through the waves under motor alone while nursing the mast chock situation.  Sailing boats go best when they're sailing even though you can't sail into the wind.

Elles came on watch at midnight.  The Racor fuel filter water contamination light was on again, even though I'd drained the filter earlier, and two days before.  We know where the dirty diesel came from.  We agreed that rather than carry on direct to Horta at reduced speed under engine, we'd get the sails up and tack upwind.  After such a quick direct route from Antigua, the thought of having to beat in big seas for the last 200+ miles is enough to make anyone quite grumpy.  Anyway, after the sails were set and we were sailing again at 7+ knots, albeit a good 40 degrees off the target, the grumps declined and we accepted 'that's what you have to do'.  Our mast chock fix appears to be stable so sailing is no problem at present.

We still have the option of going to Horta where we can get the mast chocks looked at, or of going to Ponta Delgada direct, which is an easier course but about 100 miles further.  Now we're headed north for a while, the sun is out, the heading is just tolerable and once we've got some northing in, we'll tack and head east again.

One benefit of the other tack is that we'll be able to make water as the taps are just starting to hiss.  We've just had a Thai curry for lunch, and that was the last of the fresh meat.  It's bacon butties a plenty though, which can't be all bad.  We also just had some broccoli from the secret store.  And, we've been so abstemious that there is plenty of beer and wine for the Captain's Cocktail Party. 

A short message today as we've got to decorate the boat for the Party, and keep moving.  Hope to see you later.

The Boysterous Boys  19/05/07

It's now 28 May, and the last blog was on 19 May.  "Where have you been?  What have you been doing?", you may well ask.

You may remember that there were three main threads running: after the unexpected pleasure of creaming directly up the rhumb line from Antigua we had a beat of 200+ miles to get into Horta against the new NE wind; we were nursing the mast after the chocks dropped out again; and we were experiencing problems from dirty diesel.  We had plenty of food and drinking water, and enough bulk water provided we could top up the tank from the watermaker…

After clearing up from the Captain's Cocktail Party we headed off on starboard again to get north as we had a forecast that the wind would go round from NE to NNW at some time.  This could set up a fetch on port tack straight to Horta again.  Problem: the generator, which we need to drive the watermaker, just stopped and wouldn't restart.  Dirty fuel again.  We put on the main engine for charging, and that too stopped after a few minutes.  Problem: with neither generator nor engine, the batteries would run down before we got to Horta.  So we switched off the fridges, the radar, some of the instruments and anything else that was 'optional' so as to concentrate the remaining power on the Autohelm, navigation plotter and lights.  As well as logging position, course, wind and pressure every hour, we also started to log battery condition.  It was difficult still to forecast an ETA as the wind was swinging around so much, but heading north proved right.  As darkness fell, the wind swung round to NNW and as we tacked on to port, we could point straight at Horta again.

An anxious time followed because although we were going well at 8+ knots through the darkness, there were still over 150 miles to go and the batteries were running down.  There were a few squalls around, not deep ones but putting on about 10 knots more wind, so we set two reefs in the main and used the genoa to power us through the waves, furling half of it as we passed through the squalls.  After a few hours, the wind started to veer again and our course was first 10 degrees south of the rhumb line, then twenty, then forty and more, and we were back on the long slog in.  We put the radar on to navigate past some fishing boats.  Even with depths of 2000+ metres on the chart, there are several 'sea mounts' where the depth is just 20 metres, and that's where the fish are.

As we passed the fishing boats it was just getting light, so out with the engine and generator manuals, turning first to the 'trouble shooting' pages.  The engine looked the best call - easier access, and motive power as well as battery charging.  So, while Mike extended his deck watch, I grovelled in the 'dieselly' parts, bled the filters and fuel line and generally prepared to give the engine a blast while we still had battery power, now down to 71% capacity and dropping 1% an hour.  Elles joined the breakfast party and we decided that we needed to know now whether or not the engine would start so as to plan our run into Horta, and whether we would have to tell the Port Capitan that we were coming into his harbour that night, with no engine and no lights.

We switched the 'Run' switch on, waited for the pre-heat to stop sounding and then nervously pressed the 'Start' button.  The engine hesitated and then started, then missed a beat or two but stayed running.  "Give it some wellie", said Elles, who's used to engines a lot bigger than Boysterous'.  We gave it some wellie and it roared into action.  What a relief.  With the engine on we could at least charge up the batteries, and if it would stay on, we had power for mooring up in Horta harbour.  And it did stay on, and after the battery was back up to 95% charge we gave the generator a try, and that started as well.  What a relief.  That was an anxious time, and the engine did hiccough a few times but by keeping the revs up, it kept going.  After a while, we felt confident enough to turn it off knowing that it would restart, and on we sailed our zigzag route to Horta.  You can guess what we thought about our dirty fuel with tiny water globules and rusty bits swilling around in it.

The day, Sunday 20 May, plodded along and by mid-afternoon, the wind had veered so much that with sixty miles to go, it was time to tack back onto starboard as the fetching tack.  At about 1600, I thought I'd better write the daily blog.  I went below to turn the computer on and got as far as a blank page in 'Word' when I stuck my head up through the companion way to ask for some information.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a really black looking squall close by.  Then the wind hit us, a lot more than the usual extra 10 knots.  I would guess that it went from 10 knots to forty in the space of seconds.  We had to get the genny furled quickly, which means easing the sheet while the furler is wound in.  Mike was ready on the furler, but when it came to the crunch, even with four turns on the primary winch, I couldn't hold the genny sheet.  I remember the rope slipping through my hands, the heat, and I had to let go.  The sheet started to flail about wildly, and on one of its crazy whips - BANG.

I was knocked to the cockpit sole, one hand over my right eye, and stayed there, down but not out.  Mike and Elles furled the genny and got the sheet under control while I realised that apart from a bloody nose, I had no vision in my right eye.  I stayed down.

After a while I felt able to start checking around: nose bleed - no big deal, waggle the bridge of my nose - no break, but the right eye was obviously in trouble and would need attention.  After a bit of a clean up, we took stock.  We were 55 miles from Horta, about nine hours if we could point straight there.  We had a satellite phone to call for help and so called Falmouth MRCC direct.  I've always thought that this is a better solution than letting off an EPIRB and waiting for the next satellite to come by.

Falmouth co-ordinated Tony Bullimore's rescue in the southern ocean when his keel fell off so we were an easy case.  We rang them up just as on a normal telephone call, explained who and where we were, and asked to speak to the duty doctor.  She reckoned that the retina was probably OK, but that I should lie down while we got to Horta.  The Falmouth coastguard said that they would alert their Azorean counterparts and have medical assistance available at Horta when we got there.  We rang the marina at Horta to tell them when to expect us.  Then I crashed out while Mike and Elles furled the genny right away and we motor sailed for Horta.

Nine hours later, the fuel jetty in Horta marina was clear and we glided into place in the early hours of Monday morning.  After tying up, the Policia Maritima officer ran me to 'Urgencia' at the hospital where they cleaned me up and gave me a bed for the night.  The following morning, the ophthalmic specialist diagnosed a displaced lens, best dealt with in Lisbon or London.  My own doctor just said, "You've got the diagnosis.  Don't come here - it will just slow things down.  Go straight to Moorfields Eye Hospital."

Mike and Elles checked us in to the marina and though Customs and Immigration.  They seemed to know why the skipper wasn't there and were all very helpful.  Elles briefed Mid Atlantic Yacht Services on the new chocks, draining the dirty diesel and other small works while Mike investigated flights home.  Then by the time I was back from hospital, we agreed that we'd have to pack up the boat, leave it in Horta and fly home the following day, Tuesday.  We rang the next crew to cancel their flights, emptied the fridges, closed 28 seacocks and generally cleaned Boysterous up. 

This blog could go on a long time but is now best summarised: Elles and I arrived at Heathrow on Tuesday night to find that our bags were still in Lisbon; so was Mike as his two leg ticket meant he could not be a transit passenger, had to check in again at Lisbon and so missed the London plane; Elles and I had no baggage tags - and Alitalia were the baggage handling agents; getting to and from Moorfields was a lengthy business as all the London Bridge and surrounding stations' trains were cancelled; Mike's bag was eventually delivered to me three days later after I was discharged for the time being from Moorfields.  Ah, the joys of civilisation!  I have to wait for two weeks for the internal pressure to stabilise before they can fix my eye.  In the meantime, I can see a version of the world, but without a lens in place it doesn't match the view in the other eye.

At the moment, all plans are off.  Until the big squall, we had a great sail across the Atlantic even though there were hardly any dolphins and we had problems with dirty fuel.  As far as the eye is concerned, it could have been a lot worse.  It will take time to mend, but I'm sure that it will.  And in the meantime, Boysterous is safe and sound in Horta, a low cost marina, and I'm recruiting crew for a possible trip from Horta to the Canaries in August or September.

I would like to thank the coastguards in Falmouth and Ponta Delgada, the Horta Customs and marina staff, Policia Maritima and Horta hospital staff who were all a great help, friendly and efficient.

Finally, my thanks to Mike Morgan and Elles Bicknell for coming with me on another Atlantic crossing.  We shared some great experiences, a few frustrations but some great ocean sailing.  They were true seamen and good company. 

So that's where we've been, and that's what we've been doing.  And as Elles frequently said, "Who needs slippers?"

The Boysterous Boys 28/05/07