The day started squally with the first drops of rain since we left Bermuda. Up went the front door. Now our cockpit is enclosed and has become a conservatory for it traps the heat from the sun but keeps out the wind and rain.

Our cosy cockpit
Once the final squall passed we sat in a hole with no wind and we found ourselves slopping about in the leftover swell. For the first time since the start we deployed the iron sail and motored for a couple of hours until the wind filled in this time from the south west. By 11am we were out into sparkling sunshine. We shook out the reefs, eased sheets and went off on a broad reach. With our topsy turvy world of over four days finally flattened out Voyageur was a level playing field once more. My galley stabilised. Perhaps we could at last have that roast dinner I have been planning for so long now. We took hot water showers, washed our hair and sat in t shirts and shorts enjoying the day, leaving the front door open for some ventilation. By early evening the wind veered more to the south west. Time to pole out the genoa. In the middle of the night we jibed the mizzen to goose wing, the wind veering further to west south west. We sailed right over the top of a sea mount, part of a whole collection of them named on the chart as "Corner Seamounts". It felt as if we were in a vortex which could have swallowed us whole and for all I know we could have been for it was the blackest of nights and I could see nothing but could almost imagine the swirling water round about us. It was both scary and exciting at the same time so much so that I did an extra hour on watch until we were through. But we found ourselves in the grip of a fierce some counter current of up to a knot and a half, which did not release us until well into the late morning, in spite of the fact that I tossed Neptune that promised sweet treat. Now we are sailing dead downwind, following seas in our wake.
Herb has us hooked. We're like Darby and Joan tuning in to an episode of "The Archers" every evening. For an hour we sit entranced, in awe of his weather expertise. As yachts give their position he tells them their current wind speed and direction. Sounds like we just left Bermuda in the nick of time. He tells waiting yachts there he sees no window for them to leave due to a small tropical storm tracking between there and the US east coast. He told one lady out at sea, "I don't want to scare you but you could find yourself in gale force conditions". My heart went out to her. We have kept our heads down to keep out of the way of the huge low that has been threatening us for days. We may have lighter winds than those further north, but last night's experience gave me all the excitement that I needed.