I am starting to lose track of the days out here. It is very warm now we're in the Gulf Stream proper, where we are getting (for once) a good push in the right direction - homeward - of around 0.9 of a knot.

We have just been under quite a big cloud with loads of rain coming out of it that heralded a new breeze coming in after what had been a light and shifty afternoon and night.

As the cloud moved away to the North West, Sam called me and said "Is that what I think it is, or is it just rain?". I looked and announced it was rain, but then realised that it wasn't rain at all, it was a mini tornado or waterspout thing.

We watched as it grew more defined and stronger by the minute. A dark grey curved column reached down from the base of the cloud nearly down to the water. You could see the spiralling column of spray in the vortex as it rose up into the flat grey base of the cloud. It must have gone on for 20 minutes or so with the cloud seeming to grow in front of our eyes; then it began to pour with rain under it. Shortly afterwards the tornado ground to a halt and the trunk disappeared.

I have seen waterspouts in Lyme Bay but never sailed near them. It just shows what large forces are at work in the weather.

There are two things that remain constant here whatever the day is: we have porridge for breakfast and I keep taking the pills for my finger every six hours. I don't know when it says "Take one pill four times daily" that it actually means quite as regularly as 0600, 1200, 1800 and 0000 BST, but it helps me to remember to do it! The finger is back to normal size now and quite happy, and I am quite happy it is still there!

Things have been mixed on the wildlife front. Before we dropped off the continental shelf of the US there were lots of whales. We saw some quite closely, albeit briefly, as they sank before our eyes, leaving multiple eddiesthat were early the size of the boat.

There were many in the distance that Sam located by smell in the first instance: when you are downwind of them and they are breathing at the surface there is what you might call a bit of a fishy odour, and even at a couple of miles you can see the spouts of vaporous exhaled breath going many feet into the air.

After leaving the continental shelf all was quiet. Sam spent a lot of time looking for the elusive Mr Whale to no avail, but he did see a flying fish at very
close quarters; it flew in front of the boat from one side to the other, obviously trying to put the boat between himself an whatever was trying to turn him into supper!

My dad e-mailed to say that we are now ranked 22nd in the IMOCA rankings, which is the rating for the Open 60 Class Association. Not bad, I feel, up against some of the big campaigns. It will be good to see how we figure
after the Vendee, which is my prime focus now that the Artemis Transat is completed.

Meanwhile, it is very hot typing down here, next to my as-yet-unworn oilskins. It will blow soon, the weather man assures me. Just as well, or I'll be going soft!