By lunchtime, our fifth day at sea, the skies became grey and overcast. The frontal trough had arrived. We took the pole in just in the nick of time as a sudden wind shift had the wind coming from the north. As the day wore on, it veered, pushing us more and more to the east, the track appearing on the chart as a nice half moon circle. We were hard on the wind again. Our watery world looked every inch the North Atlantic. But the rain that came was not too much and the winds nothing more than 20 knots. By being this far south we had escaped the worst of the weather thanks to Herb's sound advice. The roast dinner was postponed once more and corned beef hash appeared on the menu. I cannot imagine life without the cockpit tent. Last night was so cold and I was absolutely full of the cold. David made me a lovely whisky hot toddy. But really things are not too bad at all. We are warm and dry, the wind has kept us moving along and Voyageur is going well. But when you see seven to eight knots of boat speed in fifteen knots of breeze with only six knots over the ground it is hard. We have lost so many miles to the adverse current which continues to hold us in its vice like grip....