We have just had some of the most idyllic conditions possible for an Atlantic crossing, with flat seas and a steady breeze enabling us to coast along at 7-8 knots with various spinnakers. This was interrupted for 12 hours of motoring overnight and came back identically for the whole of today, putting us 4 days from Madeira if all goes well.

The fish have remained doggedly out of reach without a single nibble despite evidence of their existence demonstrated by sighting four different pods of dolphins who played elegantly around the boat, culminating in one at dusk whose trails of phosphorescence left us mesmerised.

We have now started to reach the end of some of our supplies - nothing fundamental - but the last rites have now been performed on rum, Parmesan cheese, and any fresh or frozen meat, putting some of our culinary specialties out of reach. By contrast, the bread-making has risen to dizzier heights each day with apprentice George starting to challenge David for the title of artisan master-baker.

For a brief moment George looked at Zephyr as if she was out of reach as his ritual swim on a line behind the boat left him struggling to get back on board and we had to dump sails to collect him.

Finally we would like to share our sympathy for the many sailing boats that we have encountered on the passage - they have also felt Zephyr was out of reach as we seem to have sailed through them all.