Cometh the wind, cometh the Ocean (G Holt: 29.12.09) 

Yesterday morning I was awoken from one of my brief cat naps with a start.  It was 0400 GMT (we use GMT on board) and still pitch black, Digby was awake drinking a cup of coffee. The air had suddenly gone cooler by some 4 degrees, the boat's motion had become much more eratic and I could hear the boat's acceleration through the water and the increased clattering of the rigging on deck - WIND. 

After seven long days at sea the wind, almost exactly as forecast, had arrived.  It was only about 12 knots from astern but it was a firm, stiff breeze, not the airy puffs of earlier. It was good to make progress again but the wind was still not the 20 knots forecast. That would arrive at 2200 hrs last night. This time I was prepared so, when it did arrive, we were ready for the rollercoaster ride that came with it. It was a bit disconcerting riding it through the dead of night, unable to differentiate between the sea or sky with no horizon and only the roar of the waves breaking astern of us.

When the sun came up at 0925 (GMT - remember we are a long way west now), I saw the Atlantic ocean exactly how I remembered it from 25 years ago; a deep, deep blue, five metre swells, three metre waves all with breaking white horses and the wind ripples clearly visible on the surface of the sea - this is it, this is the Atlantic as it should be. 

Impossible Dream is cruising along at a comfortable at 7.5 knots. Well, I say comfortably, I'm not so certain Susana would use the same phraseology. Poor Suze, she's not being physically sick but has been pretty well imobilised by this more exaggerated motion of the boat these past few days and finds that laying down at least prevents the feeling getting worse.  

I had a bit of a scare yesterday. If you read my earlier blogs, you will recall I have been suffering from swollen feet (I'm spending longer sat up and less time with my feet up compared to normal).  In an attemp to prevent the swelling, I've been wearing "flight socks", special socks you can buy to wear on planes to stop your feet swelling. I left them on for nearly two days but started to get a pain sensation (I feel pain as a sensation but can not necessarily locate the exact point) so I took my socks off only to find my little toe on my right foot was black and was not blanching when pressed - not a good thing. The sock had been pressing so hard, it has been blocking off circulation.

My first fear was that the toe was dead, the next stages would be not be worth thinking about, especially as we are a minimum 7 days away from the nearest land and several days away from any commercial shipping - I'm not sure I was relishing the thought of Susana amputating the toe with a pair or wire snippers either. We have 24 hour medical support whilst at sea through one of our sponsors Medical Services Offshore.  I called Dr Mark "Tommo" Tomson GP yesterday to explain the concern. Thankfully, after another 24 hours rest, it seems to be on the mend so I've told Susana she can put the pliers away now.  

This time tomorrow we should be half way across which is great news. Unfortunately, the wind is set to drop by Friday which is a real disappointment - let's hope the forecast is wrong for once.  New video blog going up tomorrow. Watched good film last night, Ordinary Decent Criminal, thanks to Elle & Alan from Lanzarote for the supply of films - also watched episode 1 and 2 of new series of Gavin & Stacey - lush.