It’s remarkable how an innocent-looking fluffy cloud drifting across the night sky can completely ruin a sailor’s confidence in the weather forecast. One moment the wind is blowing happily from one direction, the next it’s vanished, doubled in strength, swung 30 degrees, changed its mind again… and then, once the cloud has wandered off, everything goes right back to where it started. It’s as if the atmosphere enjoys practical jokes. Physics is both wonderfully fascinating and deeply irritating.

After last night’s impressive cloud choreography—which looked ready to finish with a dramatic heavy-rain finale before chickening out at the very last second—we’ve actually had a cracking day.

The sky cleared, the sun transformed the ocean into the world’s largest disco ball, and Akuna happily got on with the job.

By afternoon the wind had built enough for us to tuck in a reef, and suddenly we were absolutely flying. Flying, of course, comes with the small inconvenience of everything and everyone bouncing around. Despite that, I somehow managed to make Spätzle. Scraping sticky dough into boiling water while simultaneously trying not to become airborne is a niche life skill I never expected to acquire.

The fish also decided to join in. A couple of little yellowfin tuna enthusiastically took the bait, but after a brief inspection we decided they deserved another chance at life. As we explained to our youngest—and very unimpressed—fisherman: “We don’t eat children on this boat… unless absolutely necessary.”

Today’s scenery included Fonualei, an uninhabited volcanic island belonging to Tonga—a welcome bit of eye candy on the horizon.

The pirates then proceeded to wipe the deck with me at chess in game one. Fortunately, I managed a glorious comeback in game two, preventing the complete collapse of my already fragile reputation.

Meanwhile, Mark has become Akuna’s luxury spa manager, meticulously organising her upcoming Fiji treatment package: a fresh bottom wrap, deluxe top-deck exfoliation, moisturising, and a full engine massage. To be honest, I am a tiny bit jealous!

I have to admit the day carried a touch of Groundhog Day about it. Sail, eat, reef, bounce, cook, fish, chess, sleep… repeat. Still, after our 21-day Pacific crossing and the 14-day Atlantic passage from Cape Verde to Grenada, this is shaping up to become our third-longest passage.

Here’s hoping the wind keeps doing its job—and that the clouds find someone else’s sails to play with.