All went smoothly during the day and w made steady if once again not spectacular progress. Basically the SE winds had arrived allowing us to plough on and start clocking up some good mileage once again. Word had got to us that the girls and Bexhill were also doing similar speeds so all in all things weren’t looking too bad and the forecast was for it to improve for the next 3-4 days so for one there was a real feeling of joy and hope in the camp that we could now start to string s prolonged period of attack on this ocean and make some serious headway towards Mauritius.
Right well all the above was true and yes there ‘was’ real hope...that was until Pete and I took to the oars for the 7-9pm shift when much to our amazement/horror/total confusion we found we were being pushed in a north easterly direction at an alarming rate, all this despite having the SE winds and waves...how on earth could this be happening i despaired and more to the point please please please tell me this was all part of a bad dream. Sadly it wasn’t and to make matters worse it transpired we were now caught in a very punchy current which was sweeping around from the west and which would indeed push us north east.
As you will have gathered by now we are totally at the mercy of the elements and there is very little we can do to counteract either bad winds or bad currents – we are a row boat with nothing but man power to help haul us across the water (restricted at that) which is no match for the power of mother nature...and how cruel not to mention unrelenting she can be.
One minute hopes were so high and the next all but dashed once again. Yet again we were back on that emotional roller coaster, only this time the team’s mental state was so much more fragile.
The mood in the camp on hearing this news was at best low but at worst close to breaking point. I think over the past couple of weeks the never ending fluctuations and false dawns in  weather and progress were finally taking their toll on the one thing that i think stood us apart from all other teams...our spirit and especially spirit of friendship. Over recent days there had been a worrying trend that had started to develop as tensions grew and pressures surrounding food rations, water supply and just progress increased. When we set out some 50 odd days ago we were one very tight cohesive group of 4 but now it was clear there were two teams within one starting to emerge – Pete & I and then Matt & Tom. Suddenly the interaction between each other stopped with each pair barely exchanging glances let alone holding any kind of conversation with little if any spoken words exchanged.
Before we started this challenge we had all made a pact that come hell or high water nothing would come between us as a team and sure as hell we were not going to try and cross an ocean only to return with broken friendships and memories that had been soured by any fall out. The reality was that at this rate the team was fast approaching crisis point and was on the brink of imploding if something wasn’t done to clear the air. Ultimately i think a combination of the oppressive living conditions, the constant battering from the weather, the on-off and then on again nature of the rowing, the injuries, sores, fatigue and general confusion had left us all absolutely exhausted and near the end of our tethers – and when that happens even the smallest things can lead to an eruption or at least to a level of disquiet among the team. For days on end we had been slogging our guts out yet time and again mother nature had slapped us in the face and the mind was struggling to cope with all of this.
Matt looked withdrawn and tired, Tom looked worn out but with a red tinge to his face suggesting like a car that the fuel light was on and he was running on empty and Pete, well it’s hard to say through the hair that seems to have taken over his face but certainly his general mood and state of mind was not a happy one. As for me well I had definitely reached a place that i didn’t want to be and was seeing some characteristics in myself I didn’t particularly like – but like the SAS msn had told us this was all part and parcel of this challenge, on the one hand it’s an amazing physical challenge but on the other it’s an even bigger mental adventure and a journey of self discovery. We all have parts to us that we don’t like and i guess it’s just a case of acknowledging they are part of your make up and understanding how to deal and accept them as part of you.
One problem that had haunted us as a team in the lead up to the race was the lack of open communication between each other and the tendency to bottle things up in the belief that any problems would sort themselves out – let’s just say we’re typical blokes in that regard but on a row boat where you are literally living on top of each other in a pressure cooker you simply have to talk and you have to air any and all issues. There was definitely a divide in the team and it had sparked all sorts of negativity in the camp, most of it sub conscious but the atmosphere had become decidedly frosty – suddenly all decisions and all questions came loaded with tension. Our ability to communicate with each other in an amicable not to mention constructive manner had vanished, the smiles replaced with frowns and laughter something that was but a distant memory. My oh my how things change, and how devastating this can be. This was desperately unpleasant, but more than that we would never survive if things didn’t change. At this moment in time i for one couldn’t see the light through the trees, probably because i as much as anyone else was so wrapped up in this emotional quagmire.  
So the cracks are starting to develop on board and filling these in could well be the biggest, most important challenge of the trip so far – cracks too big for the ever reliable sikaflex to fill.  Forget mother nature because we can and will find a way around that but if the team falls apart then so too does our challenge and i for one haven’t spent 18 months putting this together only for our one major strength to pull us down. That aside we now have a duty, not just to ourselves but to all of you who have shown such incredible support for our cause and our challenge.

We stayed on the para anchor until about 6am by which stage Tom and Matt had very kindly offered up the penthouse suite to the servants for a couple of hours well earned rest...although the fact Pete was close to hypothermia and i clearly had the look of a very bedraggled man following more restless hours in the servants quarters may have influenced this decision – anyway very good of them all the same.
We got back to the oars hoping and thinking the much anticipated change in conditions had arrived but sadly they hadn’t although they were good enough to try and make headway once again...so off we went pulling the oars through the cement desperately in search of the south easterlies we were promised would be here soon. The latest forecast predicted they would be with us by 9am but the reality was nothing changed until 9pm after another frustrating day of rowing hard but for very little return.
To make matters worse the weather was very average and so once again we had to hand pump, so after each session we put in another hour’s pumping...oh joy.  Pete and I were graced with what was almost certainly the heaviest rain shower i have ever experienced in my life, and coming from Cornwall and having lived in Auckland I’ve seen a few. We were on the oars at the time and saw this black sheet approaching us which to be fair left little unto the imagination in terms of what was about to happen although the ferocity of the shower was quite extraordinary. Before the cloud unleashed its fury on us Pete and I got in to our birthday suits ready and waiting for a nice fresh water shower. When it arrived it did so in some style. For a good 20 minutes i literally couldn’t see anything, both from the torrent of salt that was pouring off my face and the sheer power of the rain’s driving force...it was just awesome. For once it was just bliss to be wet, and bliss to have a good fresh water wash au naturel.
Simon had always said rain water was something to be cherished and i could see why. After 49 days living the life of a sea dog i was now covered in salt sores and peppered with cuts and bruises from every day on board this tiny vessel and whilst they will and do eventually heal there’s nothing like fresh water to speed up the process but also just to help you and your skin feel human once again.
Following the rain storm we were left in a state of complete and utter dead calm, not a whisper from the wind and not a ripple on the sea, all very odd but quite amazing at the same time. Surely this was the sign of a change in the times...
So it was late that pm the change arrived and the gently south easterlies arrived fuelling the hearts and minds with much needed hope and a fresh sense of optimism – may be just may be this would be the start of a change in our fortunes and a prolonged period of good weather and sustained progress across this beast of an ocean...sorry monsieur Neptune but your playground sucks.
End of day 49 and team RFP are once again off and rowing and by the sounds of things still clinging on to 2nd place...just.

Sadly the change in weather we experienced during the early hours of day47/48 was here to stay today as the wind changed bringing with it a north westerly breeze pushing us south east...our worst nightmare really. After 3 or 4 days of good weather and favourable conditions our tails were up and we were all pumped ready to try and attack the 1,000 mile mark so to have this arrive was a real body blow.
As seems part and parcel with this race there are just so so many highs and lows and the frequency with which everything can change is enough to send you insane. The frustration is quite unbelievable and something i find really hard to explain but when one minute you’re going great guns and then the next you are literally paralysed, all because of the wind, it plays havoc with the mind not to mention causes carnage to the body which then has to go in to over drive just to keep the boat going forward. This is such a cruel game but i guess that’s what make ocean rowing such a unique challenge testing every little bit of the human make up – whether that be the physical, emotional or psychological...and invariably all three at once. Personally the hardest one of these to control but also to understand is the emotional because the highs and lows are so extreme – and without wanting to get all metro sexual about this there are moments when you literally want to break down and cry (i wouldn’t because Pete would give me a slap an tell me yet again again to ‘arden up you big wendy’) and then one minute later you’re experiencing an all time high.
At the heart of a lot of these stresses and strains is the weather and being of english stock i should be well used to this dominating every facet of life but out here i just cannot believe how susceptible and dependant we are on the weather – all  it takes is a slight shift in breeze and it feels like the world has come crashing down...or on the flip side that everything is joyous.
Anyway as we had done so many times already during this challenge we simply put the heads down and plugged away desperately trying to squeeze any mileage we could out of these conditions. You have to believe me when i tell you just how demoralising it is to row your socks off for a 2 hour shift only to find you have amassed 300 or 400 metres of credit...it’s utterly soul destroying not to mention exhausting. Pete and I try desperately to jockey each other along but it’s hard work on the body and the mind and no matter what you do it’s just so hard not to let the demons get in your head. All that said we had been told by Al it would turn in 2 hours so that wasn’t so bad...well it was bad because it meant treading water but at least we weren’t in for another 3 dayer. In this situation it’s difficult to know whether to put the para anchor down, cut your losses and get some rest or just soldier on but as you may have guessed there’s too much pride on this boat to give in to the elements so soldier on we did.
To make matters even worse the power was once again low so the water maker was out of action – a case of when it rains it pours. So it was the dreaded hand pump came out again and off we pumped for 12 long hours. If you want to know what it’s like to hand pump then just get down to your local and ask if you can hand pump some beer for an hour – you know, ye olde draught beer stuff, and see how your forearms, back and general morale is after that...then repeat after a 2 hour row three times a day. Oh and the thing i forgot to mention was that you have to do this all the while sat in a sauna with little or no air...that my friends would simulate our cabin where hand pumping takes place. Anyway water is our lifeline so there are no options.
It’s at times like these that we turn to your messages and i cannot tell you how much of a buzz they give us – both the emails and those messages written up on the walls inside the cabin. Knowing you have such immense support is just so heartening and fills the soul with a real sense of purpose and keeps topping up the levels of resolve, pride and dogged determination to succeed. Thankyou all once again for all your messages and please please please keep them coming in, i cannot tell you how much they mean to us...every minute of every day. Thank you also for all those uplifting poems, ditties, songs and rousing speeches that have been sent through, we love them all and regularly turn to them for motivation. Personal fav today is one sent from Vix C quoting the legend that was/is in M.Ali who famously said,
“"Champions aren't made in gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them a desire, a dream, a vision. They have to have the skill but the will must be even stronger than the skill.”
Just one thing Vix, are you insinuating that we don’t actually have the skill but should be ok because we’ve got the will?!! If so, i have no argument with that, given i haven’t even rowed across a bath before.
Whilst on the topic of thanks i want to say a big thankyou from the RFP team to all those who continue to donate and who have given so generously since i last made comment on the fundraising. Aside from the heroic antics down in Wanaka and the large pledges that have come in elsewhere there have been literally dozens of you who have given to the cause recently and it never ceases to amaze us how many people around the UK and NZ are staging various big and small fundraisers to help us reach the magic figure...although given it’s for a charitable cause you never really meet the end figure because research etc can never have enough funds. Special mention to Emma B from Bodytech Viaduct who won a big cycle race over the weekend and then dedicated her moment on the podium to raising awareness of our challenge and cause – now there’s a girl who understands just how painful the chaffe can be – whilst on that subject, Emma if you could give the spare Assos to John key to fly out with our food supplies that would be great.
Back to the matter in hand, the long hard slog that got progressively worse as the day went on. It soon became apparent that we weren’t going to make any decent headway today but still we soldiered on. However come 8pm that night we were left with no option other than to deploy the dreaded para anchor once again. In short whilst we would happily plug away doing 1 metre an hour forwards it got to a stage where we were being pushed backwards, and then sense has to prevail...which thankfully it did. Yet again i had to be the bearer of the bad news to Tom and Matt and then Pete and I got to work with putting the thing out and shutting the boat down. Thoughts then immediately turn to whether the other crews were facing the same conditions – what if everyone else was flying and we had just chosen a bad course? Ugh the uncertainty of when things may/may not change was unbearable but worse still was just that time was ticking by, time which was becoming increasingly precious for RFP.
With every delay like this comes the increased concern about food, something we all knew was now becoming a real problem given the frequency of these weather delays. Once again we did a stock check and it was clear we HAD to start rationing...now. Running out of food because you haven’t taken enough is one thing but when you have yet you have to chuck supplies due to contamination from sea water which was leaking through the hatches this is very hard to deal with...especially when it means you are now right on the edge re supplies versus projected finish time. Personally i am deeply paranoid about this area and this news made a huge dent to my morale and overall mood -  i was worried but worse still knew there was little i could do to change things. I already felt i was running on 1/2 tank so with further cut backs and the potential of no food for a few days this was praying heavily on my mind. Worse still we were now wholly reliant on having a clear passage to the end with no further delays because with every additional delay would come further cut backs...yikes life as a jockey may still be on the cards.
The good news about the para anchor was that it did at least signal the wind had changed which needed to happen before the favourable stuff would arrive, so whilst it wasn’t good we were at least one step closer to the south easterlies that we had long hoped for. As per last time Pete and I scurried off to the servants quarters while Tom and Matt took up residence in the penthouse. Yet again this made for an uncomfortable few hours but it made getting up every hour to check the winds that little bit easier – only challenge was prizing myself out from under Pete’s armpit and then doing y best yoga/pilates manoeuvre to get out the rabbit hatch without kicking him in the face...mmm if only i had gone to those pilates things Bex had told me se about...woops the mind now starts to drift to lycra again...
So we stayed on para anchor all night which was unbelievably frustrating but nonetheless part and parcel of this challenge, my only hope being that this was the last time. May be just may be another trip to Father Bannigan, our spiritual leader was in order...and time to confess that i had pinched an extra muesli bar from the food cabinet.
Oh and before i go just a quick one to let you know we had our first quiz night today – the haircuts (the mullet ‘Billy’ and the microphone ‘Pete’) versus heroes (Dora and Delia). After week one the haircuts lead 4-2...

Ok well if things are supposed to happen in threes then here’s hoping we can break the mould as day 47 proved to be yet another horrendous day in terms of personal news delivered to the boat. It was after Pete and I had finished our mid morning shift when Pete phoned his wife, Michelle for their weekly catch up only to be told the devastating news that one of his best mates (Sef) from work had suffered a heart attack and tragically not come out the other end.
Following the news from Tom’s G’Pa only a few days earlier this was just devastating, especially for Pete but also for the rest of the crew as it reminded us just how far away and out of touch we were with the real world and our friends, families and loved ones. It’s moments like this when you suddenly feel desperately lonely but also desperately isolated, vulnerable and pretty helpless. Pete’s not exactly the soft sort and isn’t given to showing many emotions (apart from anger when i complain about my buttocks), but this combined with the news about Tom’s G’pa had clearly affected him. Pete’s not one to dwell on things and is very matter of fact about most things but the thought of how this could happen to such a fit young guy together with the fact he was leaving such a large family behind was clearly proving hard to get his head around – all this combined with the stresses and strains of this ocean crossing and the pain/worry caused from not being able to see his wife and daughter for so long. This was a tough ride for the big man.
On top of all that don’t forget Pete is the ‘stranger’ amongst the 4 of us having been plucked from obscurity only a couple of months ago during our nationwide ‘Find-A-Fourth’ campaign on the radio , so he more than any of us would probably be feeling doubly lonely and out of sorts – and it was my job to try and help him through this as we were effectively a team within a team. All that said he is as you may have gathered a pretty tough cookie and one real highlight of the trip for me to date has been getting to know him and i think i can safely say i stepped on the boat with 2 great mates but will leave with 3 – even if he doesn’t feel the same (i’m yet to be a friend of his on Facebook which is obviously the acid test of friendship so i had better not count the old chickens just yet but i think we’re ‘bonding’).
So not a great day once again but i’m fully loaded with an armoury of terrible gags and a pair of ears that can listen well when they need to, and the four of us will get through this just like we have everything else. All that remains to be said is that our thoughts and prayers and love go out to Sef’s family at this unbelievably difficult time.
As far as the sea action is concerned once again it was stuff off the field, or sea, that took over today so apologies if i don’t go into too much detail as to what happened, suffice to say it was an ok day, where we made ok mileage, cooked some ok food, had some ok sleep and the weather was ok. The one light bit of humour that did happen involved Pete during one of the night shifts when a bird dive bombed him mistaking his ever growing buffon for a juicy piece of thatch to lay his weary head – absolutely hilarious moment that scared the living daylights out of the walking microphone head (to be fair the bird could actually be in there and we would be none the wiser it’s that ‘big’ right now).