We have since discovered that at least five yachts on the rally are without an SSB radio. If there is one piece of kit we would not like to be without it is the SSB radio. We can listen in to Herb, we can follow the exchange of ideas about the weather on our own daily net, we can talk to our sailing buddies even if it is only to find out what's cooking for dinner. The VHF is now silent all except for one clear message from a ship calling one of our fleet by name. He must have picked him up on AIS. "Yacht ........ , show some lights at night", the watch keeper said and repeated it once again, "Yacht ........, show some lights at night". Extraordinary! We want to be both seen and heard.....

Two yachts adrift
The day, our fourth at sea began with bad news. David read out an email from World Cruising Club. The ARC Europe yacht Outer Limits, a Hanse 37, had collided with a whale and was taking on water at the bow. Their Mayday was heard by another yacht, Halo, who diverted to the scene but by then a merchant vessel had also arrived and the skipper made the agonising decision to abandon the yacht. Later that afternoon we heard of another yacht likewise abandoned mid ocean also now a potential hazard to shipping. Imagine David's alarm when just as it was growing dark he saw the huge sleek black hump of a whale cross behind our stern less than 60 metres away. Moby dived down deep and was gone. Voyageur has a black sleek underbelly too and I like to think he was just coming up close and personal to say hi!
We have been beating into the wind for four days now, all on a starboard tack. Will I be able to stand upright when I reach dry land? I am so used to leaning over to compensate for the angle of heel! I spent some of my night watch doing a bit of stargazing but somehow the night sky has lost some of its wow factor. The stars and galaxies seem to have almost shrunk away from me. I search in vain for the Southern Cross. Where oh where is my wonderful Pacific night sky. Of course it is far away from us now and the realisation dawns on me that I will probably never sail in a small sailing boat under its magnificence again. It also occurs to me that this is our eighth and possibly final ocean crossing. I look heavenwards. The Big Dipper points north. Ah yes, the finality is real enough, we are well and truly on our way home......