Interpretation of what people say is a really important skill. When a girl says 'You just do whatever you like', that means that the last thing you should do on this earth is 'Whatever you like'. On the other hand someone may ask for a 'Quiet beer.' and what transpires is a drinking session where you'll wake up thinking you've eaten a wardrobe. After listening to the weather forecast for our 200 mile trip north to Dominica we need to do something about our interpretation skills.

Listening to the forecast we heard about a 'band of moisture' and 'enhanced seas'. In hindsight we should have interpreted 'enhanced moisture' as it being so rainy that we felt like we were being water boarded and the 'enhanced seas' as doing 10 rounds with Mike Tyson.

With the forecast at the front of our minds we made the decision that we'd stop when either we were not having fun or were getting bored of sailing upwind. Starting to head north the forecast bore no resemblance to the conditions as the sun beat down on us topping up our tans while Ruffian slipped along at breakneck speeds with her new clean shiny bottom.

Approaching Bequia the fun had certainly gone for the day. We were getting bored as water coursed along the decks and squalls pushed Ruffian over at ever alarming angles, the thought however of pushing north still overrode our thoughts of stopping. Then the heavens opened.

As Iain tried to sleep downstairs in soaked clothing Fiona squinted at the instruments just mere inches in front of her nose. The sea water that was sloshing over the deck has been replaced with rain making it impossible to work out where the sky stopped and the sea started. This was certainly a 'band of moisture'. Standing in this, covered in soaked clothing, while shivering to the bone was not the ideal cure to the cold Fiona was harbouring, but still she soldiered on.

We were slowly being worn down by the conditions and our poor camera had already succumbed to the privations of going upwind. It was MIA and presumed drowned. Unfortunately one of our very expensive Lewmar winch handles felt such empathy for the camera's watery end that as Iain removed it from the winch, it made a dash for the water. All Iain could do was swear like a trouper and watch 100's of dollars disappear under the surface.

Now really really bored of sailing and defiantly not having fun, it was time to stop. We'd been at sea for 30 hours, but it felt like a lifetime. Over the horizon we knew that cheese and wine was waiting for us along with dry clothes, sleep and an end to the infernal process of going upwind. We changed course for Martinique and Fort du France.

Finally the anchor chain lit up the windlass and the pain could stop. Fiona slipped out of her wet clothes and into a deep well deserved slumber. Iain however wasn't content to stop. There was the cheese mountain to ravage and the wine lake to drain, so ashore he went.

Filling his bags with provisions and downloading another weather forecast his heart sank. A decision had to be made. Leave now for Dominica or be 'stuck' surrounded by garlic eating, beret wearing surrender monkeys in France. Dominica and another night at sea it was.

Leaving Martinique behind, the moon rose finding us surrounded by white water and waves blown flat by the wind. Ruffian's new bottom was now paying dividends and the faster we went the sooner we'd be in the lee of Dominica, but before we got to Dominica we had to negotiate the shallows off the southern coast.

Waves piled on top of waves and Ruffian ploughed through rather then over them. Everwhere we looked we seemed to be surrounded by danger. Heading upwind we'd end up on the rocks but heading deeper would find all the waves filling the cockpit, then as quickly as the conditions built, they stopped. Someone had ironed the sea flat and turned off the fans. We'd arrived in the windlass lee coast of Dominica.

After sailing though the 'band of moisture' and being injured by Mike Tyson, entering the sheltered surroundings of Portsmouth was a welcome sight but there's not going to be any rest for those on Ruffian. There is the small matter of getting all the moisture that is inside Ruffian out and fixing the wounds we've incurred on our journey north.

That's not Ruffian's usual sailing. Err. It's upwind.


We say goodbye to the lovely water of the Grenadines.


That'll be the last bit of sun we'll see for a while.