It's hard to believe we're cruising along gently under the lightweight kite, pottering about on deck with no foulies, doing odd jobs and generally tidying up and drying out. This at 53 degrees South and after three days of a monster storm. Let me take you back a few days...

This is serious Southern Ocean. We've had 50 knots of true wind speed and gusts of over 70 knots apparent for the last few days. It's getting a bit much. The No.3 came down yesterday to leave us with three reefs in the main and the storm staysail - two pocket handkerchiefs. The air is filled with spray blowing horizontally off the waves, which are HUGE. They build and build as you climb over them, then you wait to see what happens the other side... Will you slide gently down the back or find there is no back and launch off the crest to crash into the trough behind. The crew are aerial for a few seconds, hoping for a forgiving landing - not always the case even in your bunk. Sometimes you'll see the grandmother of all waves approaching, the crest starting to break towards you as you climb it. Helm shouts "big wave!" (original) or whatever - anything will do - and everyone braces themselves, praying we won't be knocked flat. The bow rises and ploughs through the crest, sending us swimming about the deck. The boat settles, we shake the water off and wait for the next one.

This gets all the more hairy at night, when you can't see beyond the instruments and it's back to the arcade game. A big adrenalin rush. Beats the hell out of bungee jumping!

There are three of us on deck at a time: driver, one shotgun in the cockpit, and one on iceberg watch facing the blast at the front of the cockpit. We do 15 minutes in each spot, rotating down below to watch the radar warm up, trying to remember what hands and feet feel like. With so much water over the deck we can't run the heaters, so life down below is colder and wetter than usual. But if you talk nicely to the Care Bears they make you a cup of tea and things don't seem so bad!

Senses of humour are still intact, with the routine cheap gags coming out - if less often. We're also boosted by the position reports every six hours. We've pulled up to 4th, having at one stage been in 12th and 80 miles behind the leaders. It keeps us buzzing, and makes the cold and wet easier to handle.

Now waiting for the next big blow, due tomorrow...

Yours, drier than yesterday, Sarah.