The final 24 hours were amongst some of the worst of the trip with near gale force northerly winds all the way up from Ushant with very rough seas. It looked as though it wouldn't give me the slightest break. I thought I deserved a break. I was convinced that with this final hurdle yet to cross, something serious was going to break. Certainly the jib and the jib sheets looked ready to fall apart, and I felt pretty much the same. Saturday morning, 3 am, and the wind headed me - the final insult.Also ships! Dozens of them! I had only seen a handful the whole length of the Atlantic. I prepared for tough old beat for the last fifty miles, but during the morning it fell away, the sea flattened, and eventually the engine went on. For longer than I can remember, I was able to sit in the cockpit and have a cup of tea made with one of the remaining three teabags, and not get wet. For a change, I caught a fair tide round Start Point and made up to Dartmouth at top speed. I had no clue where our new mooring was, but the harbourmaster took to his launch and escorted me alongside. Perfect. Almost to the minute, Libby and daughter Rose arrived after their own struggle against an adverse tide on the M5. Many hugs followed. I was home. The Dartmouth fish and chips never tasted better. To be home in England never felt better.

THE END PS When I come down to earth I'll offer a few reflections and some interesting statistics. But if you have been following this voyage since the beginning, as I know a lot of you have, then I have appreciated your support along the way. I really have.