The day kicked off with a squall politely missing us on the starboard side. It didn’t hurt us… it just baptized us thoroughly and served as our early-morning “motivational speaker” for the hours to come.

The wind decided not to relax at all and instead went from a breezy 15–25 knots to full-on attitude. Luckily we were nicely set up with our double-poled sailplan (Code 0 and Genoa).
At around 25 knots, the Code 0 gets rolled away like it never existed, and at 28–30 knots the Genoa gets its first spa treatment (also known as reefing). We did this dance multiple times throughout the day… but despite the costume changes, the boat kept charging along happily on course.

By daylight, you can actually see squalls coming, which is helpful and comforting and makes you feel vaguely in control of your life. At night, we rely on the moon and the radar, which works great… except when it doesn’t. The 4–5m seas confuse the radar with their clutter, and there’s also a blind spot directly behind us because the radar lives at the front of the mast. So yes, technically things could sneak up on us from the rear.

Still, we’re getting pretty good and fast at reefing always trying to get the most out of the wind, as there is always a little lull with a squall – before the wind hits you like a freight train. And with less than 250 nautical miles to go, motivation levels are high and the speed we through ourselves into the life vests… heroic.

During all this, the boys launched into a full-scale onboard spy game, chasing each other through the boat like it was a floating MI6 headquarters.
Lunch was yesterday’s mahi-mahi (delicious), while another very large fish sacrificed itself to the mysterious Bermuda Triangle of high speed and snapped fishing lines.
Dinner was a red-lentil coconut curry, officially declaring us emotionally and spiritually in the Caribbean.

All that squall-watching made the day fly by and fade smoothly into a gusty night. Mark eventually woke me when the wind climbed into the high-20s again, and we sensibly reduced sail and slowed down — mostly so the crew could rest, and partly because breaking something in the last miles would be… deeply uncool.

We’re almost there. And the boat is still in one piece. We are headed for a strong finish.