This is called the "Sunshine", or "Gin and Tonic" leg - as opposed to the "leg from Hell" in the Southern Ocean. Sunshine, yes, but it's not all gin and tonic. We lapped up the first week of spinnakers, shorts and stress-free sailing. But it's beginning to wear a bit thin. There is very little to do and a lot more time in which to do it, now that we're out of dry suits and all that. Spinnakers stay up for days on end and we "trim, trim, trim" (as the big man Chay says) then we'll change to the genoa or no. 1 - and everyone leaps at the chance of activity - and that stays up for several days. With yellow sails up, there is even less for 6 people to do: one helms, and the rest trim and watch the numbers. This was enough on leg 1 - it was all new and exciting - but now we've been through the Southern Ocean, there's a feeling of anticlimax, despite the milestones we're reaching. We need more to challenge us.

With all the free time we also focus on bad position reports (there have been too many), which cast a real pall over the boat. After coming so close on the last leg it's not easy being down the fleet and out of contention for the lead. The expectations were all there this leg. We're also taking it hard because our forte is hard work in heavy weather. We thrive and do well when there are plenty of sail changes and lots of action, as on the last leg when different weather systems and squalls came banging through rapidly. This is more of a drag race, and in predominantly in light winds. We're all through the Doldrums and facing the huge Azores high which is sprawled across the Atlantic between us and Boston. Group 4 are over 200 miles ahead and there's little scope for making up big miles with us all in the same weather system - unless boats fall into holes. And that seems to be a lottery. Windless spots appear regardless of how many hours you pore over weather faxes or debate tactics, and you can sit there for 2 hours or 2 days watching the fleet sail past you. We have had yachts following us for days on end, and then just fall away over the horizon as though the sky has opened up above them. And that's only 5 or 6 miles away.

The three boats to the west are away, but there is plenty to play for with us, Save, Teamwork, Tosh and CU lined up within 120-odd miles across this high. It's no doubt exciting to watch from home, but here it is frustrating to say the least and we feel completely at the mercy of fickle wind. The result will depend on holes for big miles and trimming for the smaller differences - which can still account for a position.

Hopefully the last 500 miles or so will provide more action, and with a tropical storm sitting over the east coast of the States, it looks promising. You can be sure we'll be going for it then and leaping about the deck like mad things when the time comes for sail changes. Who knows, we may even have to put a reef in!

***I wrote this a few days ago. We've now spent the last 28 hours wallowing in one of those holes. Our noon-to-noon run was 68 miles compared to and average of 188 until then. As a crew we have been through frustration, being hacked off, depressed and are now verging on hysteria - which is at least some fun. We are all looking forward to enjoying a drink and a good laugh together in a bar in Boston, away from all this stressful nonsense.***

Yours, parked, Sarah.