Day 10

Distance run in last 24 hours: 154 nautical miles

Distance to destination: 1325 nautical miles

An unexpected shock.

At dusk (around 18:50) last evening (Tuesday) in position 17'44.39 N 36'12.46 W Alcedo hit a submerged object.  I was helming at the time and was the only crew member on deck - there was a dull thump and a tremor shook the yacht.  Speed dropped instantly from over 6 knots to 3 knots.  I immediately checked the area around the boat while the rest of the crew rushed on deck, a couple prudently collecting life jackets on the way.  There was no sign of anything obvious in the water.  We conducted a very full and careful check of the boat - the bilges and the keel bolts particularly - and were very relieved to discover that no water was coming on board.  After circling for a while, and checking the steering, we tentatively continued on our way.  No-one can be sure what exactly we struck.  Thankfully it was certainly not one of the submerged containers that all too frequently fall from cargo ships - this would have done serious and possible terminal damage to the yacht.  There may have been a log beneath the surface, or more likely a large mammal such as a dolphin, porpoise or a small whale (Jane thought she saw a shark's fin - possibly a basking shark? - circling after the impact, but could not be sure in the poor light). Fortunately for us Alcedo seems to have struck a glancing blow and sustained minimal damage.  All the other crew members have sailed many more sea miles than I have, and none have managed to hit anything (yet), so there has been a certain amount of leg-pulling and gallows humour that I have registered this achievement in mid Atlantic on my first ocean crossing.

After this excitement, I had another exceptional early morning watch from 02:00.  Alcedo was sailing under mainsail and poled out genoa, the stars were out and we hit 8 knots at times.  However, the wind has proved very inconsistent, and soon we were motoring again.

As we sail west, time on board gradually changes from GMT.  Today we changed the ship's clock for a second time, and we are now two hours behind UK time.

This morning began cloudy, with occasional squally rain, and has been especially maddening.  There is now a little more wind, blowing from astern, but this has been very variable in both strength and direction.  We have had sails up and down, been on port gybe then starboard gybe, been poled out or dropped the genoa altogether.  Sally has been especially frustrated and my entire watch seemed to consist of sail changes and direction changes, as we chased whatever wind there was.  The Atlantic swell rolls the boat from side to side, just enough to spill wind from the sails and impede forward progress.  To add to our enjoyment, we had a brief squall just before I came off watch.  Since we gybed to the south this morning we have seen lots of flying fish (we seem to have found a sort of flying fish superhighway) and I decided that I was going to try to film these strange creatures.  Easier said than done, however, and quite probably (like the sail changes) another comprehensive exercise in futility.