Like the last Southern Ocean leg, down below was a real mess. Soaking sails lined the companionway, condensation was dripping down the bulkheads. Water dripped from the air vents. Sleeping bags were permanently damp. Air temperature was just above freezing.

Sleeping was difficult. The deck noise, the boat crashing over waves, rigging creaking, deck winches, crew shouting to make themselves heard; but it was the boat movement that disturbed me. When in your bunk, strapped in, you were lifted up weightless for a second or so, then you'd be brought down onto your bunk with a thump.

Being tall was a disadvantage. My head used to crash into the bulkhead no matter how much padding I used. Again the Walkman saved my sanity. If I wasn't going to sleep I was going to relax - I needed my tapes.

With the frequent storms, life below was even more difficult. The galley was extremely hazardous, so was using the heads. " Care bears " wore foulie bottoms for cooking. In spite of gimbles, big pans of boiling water, porridge or mince had a habit of jumping off the stove. There were plenty of bumps, knocks and scalds. Falling out of the bunk was a pretty popular pastime.

END OF PART SEVEN