Of silly old farts and sealing wax, of a cabbage for a king

So - 48 years after first trying, I have finally seen the Fastnet Rock in daylight. For me, apart from Cape Horn and perhaps Tasman Island and the Iron Pot, the only race mark worth the effort of getting there every time. And get there we did, photos to follow - not another competitor in sight and so we must by now be way, way out the back of the race. A comprehensive cock up by anyone's standards. As Eeyore might say, "That's just what WOULD happen to a couple of silly old geriatrics with ideas above their station" but at least we can play the old farts card - "Yacht race? What yacht race? How interesting! Are we really in a yacht race? Gosh - now where did I leave my woolly socks..."

More mizzly murk in the Celtic Sea, but this time with phosphorescence- all the little dinoflagellates out to play - yay! And the moon posing for Turner. Sadly, the force 7 rocket blast to get us to the finish that Valencia Radio has been warning everyone about just ain't going to happen according to my latest GRIB. We'll get a little feel of it tonight, perhaps, but the good bit wont arrive until lateish tomorrow, far too late for us. Pity - might have redeemed the cock up just a bit!

And for this pair of SOG's, the Fastnet is also the turning mark for the way home to Oz, just like last time. This time we don't have the deadline pressure of trying to get back for the Sydney - Hobart start, so we may be a bit more leisurely about it. Cape Town, South Georgia, even Kerguelen perhaps? All interesting places we had to sail past last time.

Some messages - Sarah, Pete's Pot is doing its job with panache - and to the RCC - so is the one you so kindly sent me.
Sue - consumables depleting as per flight plan - thanks! ZBD tipsy bouncer. Steves various - continued thanks. And Fenwick, decrepit sailor with Kingly aspirations - you're a silly old fart too.

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