My apologies for not writing for a while, but it has felt as if there has been nothing to write about until today, although of course that's not strictly true.

We have, until about 09.30 on Sunday morning, spent four days on the same tack... hard on the wind with 100 per cent cloud cover: a blanket of low clouds with no blue sky visible at all, usually raining, and not even a ship to break up the monotony.

We have one book between us which is Sam's. I didn't get time to go home after the qualifier to bring any of my own, (or any of the other things I should have brought, like Gulf Stream information!).

We have both read it now, and I contemplated reading it again. It is a children's book, "Why the Whales Came" by Michael Morpurgo which won loads ofprizes and is worth reading to your children if you have them. It is set in
the Scillies, which is appropriately where we'll be passing tomorrow.

Other than when reading, these last few miles seemed to have really dragged. Each time time we have passed any significant marker - 600 miles to go, 500 miles
to go - it has been a cause for celebration.

The trouble is, the boat does around nine knots upwind, but as soon as you start reaching, where the wind comes from the side rather than over the bow, the boat speed can easily double as you surf rather than slam. The boat
flattens off and you can move around on deck safely and below much more easily. Upwind, even staying put on the loo at 27 degrees of heel whilst slamming into waves is no mean feat!

Going upwind day after day in a boat built for reaching is like being given a Ferrari and told you can only use first gear. Frustrating!

However, since we tacked this morning somewhere west of Ireland and level with Trevose Head on the north coast of Cornwall, the wind is starting to free us up. We have less than 300 miles to go to the Lizard and the sky is
the bluest of blues you could imagine. Sam described it as the kind of blue you see in an aeroplane from very high up. You can see for miles in clear cold air that has come down from the Arctic Circle, and we are
pointing at home, which gives the spirits a real boost.

The talk on board is now of pints of beer and loved ones, (not necessarily in that order!), pizza and walks in the green fields. Not having seen the house for approaching two months, I am looking forward to seeing what the farmers are doing in the fields as I drive up from Weymouth, smelling the dust and rain on the earth again, and waking up to hear the birds through my bedroom window and then going downstairs to let the dogs out early and make a cup of tea in my own kitchen whilst the world is still asleep.

Being away makes you appreciate all kinds of things you wouldn't consider without having been away. Not long now.......