North Atlantic, 58°North October 12th: Training day

Crashing waves, large swells, howling winds, that chill down your spine when you hear the water crash with its mighty strength and push, push, push on every part of the boat, until something break.

Imagine all of this, the sheer potential for destruction

Now, turn off the light. It's the Atlantic saying hello at one o'clock in the morning.

And the greeting was received loud and clear by Infinity: our storm jib ripped away, hanks and head, our halyard taking refuge in the main mast, the main sail de-laminating, some of the 110V electrical circuits taking a bath, a couple of bunks drowning, and half of the teak cockpit platform deciding to go for a swim.

A special mention to our weather forecast misleading us by some fifteen knots of wind!

But here we are, another jib up on another halyard, having sailed through the worst of it, none of us harmed and most of us wiser.

One day down, ten to go.

Yours from a rocking bunk,

Vicou the Sea Gypsy