I love dairy food: cheese, milk, butter, icecream, yoghourt. A childhood spent on a NZ dairy farm contributed to this life long afair, so living in the dairy free Pacific, especially fresh dairy products, is a bit of a sacrifice. Long life mik, milk powder and sachet powered yoghourt help keep calcium deficiency at bay but I still dream of an icy cold glass of fresh milk, or a lovely cheesey toasted sandwich (on wholemeal bread, don't start me on bread....!)

Yesterday was a slow old day, reefed down to dodge the frequent small squalls or letting the reefs out but still slowing to a stand still in the very light 'winds', more puffs of air really. As we drifted along I thought of all the tiny islands of Kiribati to our East, Maiana, Kuria, Abemama, Nonouti, Tabiteuea, each mere specks on the chart, the last vestiges of a huge mountain range - one that is now causing strange eddies and strong currents for us as we continue to grasp at every degree of easting we can get.

To take my mind of our slow progress - only 47 miles in the last 24 hours - I decided to make some yoghourt (with the good old Easiyo maker you gave me years ago thanks Mum!) A freshly bought packet from Tarawa came to hand - raspberry, yum - now just had to wait 12 hours.

The day wore on, getting hotter and more humid. As is typical for this part of the Pacific, a small cloud that had been lurking to windward developed into a full blown stationary wind hog, sucking what little wind there was into itself. By 9.30 that night we were literaly going round in circles, the currents and the flukey winds and the loss of boat speed all contributing to a temporary loss of steerage. Old wind hog decided at this point to get moving and it felt like we were being sucked backwards into its maw. A quick crew consultation and Skip Tone was persuaded now was the time to get the iron topsail started. Within minutes the engine was fired up, we regained our steerage, and skedaddled our way out of there, catching 20kts of wind as well as we scooted just past the storm cell's edge. As it was now moving behind us within ten minutes we were back in the no wind zone and decided to keep motoring for a little while to put as much distance between us and t he ominous black clouds astern. (Who says I can't face my fears.. !)

We ended up motoring for three hours, Skip Tone on watch and me below catching up on some sleep - IM slipping easily through the calm water. Around 3.00 am I made my way to the cockpit for my turn on deck, skidding on something soft and squishy just as I passed the door to the head. Thinking the worst - 'the head has overflowed and leaked onto the galley floor' I hastily turned on my head torch, but whatever I had stood on wasn't able to be discerned in the red light we use at night to maintain our night vision. Switching to white I could now see what looked like pink yoghourt splatterd all over the head and the galley floor and walls. Somehow during the night the yoghourt had exploded - taking the lid off the internal container and blowing the Easiyo lid into the head, spraying pink globules of yogourt all over the cabin. Neither of us had even heard it happen. I can't imagine what it must have looked like.

The cabin, already smelling as only a cruising boat can after 5 days at sea in a tropical climate - manky marine wet weather gear, last night's onions lingering, dirty washing and as the motor had been running a slight whiff of perfume d'diesel - was now also reminiscent of a cowshed dairy - and in 30 degree heat was about to get very much worse. Nothing for it but to start cleaning!

I did that best I could in the wee small hours, before hustling Tone off watch and into his berth. The next day started out with a more thorough clean, laughing and joking about the 'Grand Raspberry Yoghourt Bomb' as we found hardening globules in unimagineable places. We now truly know the meaning of that old saying "off like a bucket of yoghourt in the midday sun". I have used that yoghourt maker for years and many times on the boat in this kind of heat, but that is the first time that has ever happened!

Enjoy your dairy foods folks, us poor sailors risk our lives to make it out here on the currently very pacific Pacific. Think we will stick to custard from now on.

We are not yet half way to Tuvalu, but as we bob our way through the doldrums the raspberry explosion certainly gave us a laugh.