It’s our last day of this race with less than 100 miles to go. The question I have it whether this is my last day of this two year adventure. Writing that makes me quite sad. I’m still convinced that my ribs aren’t broken given I’m pretty mobile and can breathe deeply but an X-ray later today will confirm. Greg has made it quite clear that if they are, unlike Barry, I won’t be able to continue. Just in case, I have now cancelled my accommodation in the Whitsundays as I can do without any unnecessary expense.
I went up on deck again this morning to see the stunning rugged coastline of Tasmania lit in the pink hues of the sunrise. You question why we’ve raced 700 miles when peppered all around is the clipper fleet! I couldn’t help but beam a smile from ear to ear. We’re so lucky and privileged to witness this.
The fleet seem to be doing 10-12 kts under their code 1s heading direct to the waypoint due south just before the right turn towards Hobart. We’ve made a couple of overtaking manoeuvres in the night (I heard a gentle dig at UNICEF) so I think we’re now in 3rd or 4th.
I’m struggling to stay awake, I managed 4-5 hours throughout yesterday, but when I am I’m catching up on kindle time. It’s nice to have been able to make it past chapter 2 and there’s no one quite like sir ranulph fiennes to make you feel like a complete wuss! I have also assumed the role of confectioner supplying the watch with an array of sweets and chocolates. At one point I passed up a box of dried fruit feeling quite guilty about their diet…it was poo pooed!