I desperately want to use the bigger sail but it seems every time I make the decision, go on deck and loosen off the ties where the bag is stacked, the wind angle changes and I know it would be the wrong decision.

All of the stats and facts the team will be monitoring while Pip competes in the Vendee Globe.

And so the glory days are coming to an end, slowly but surely my small peloton has overtaken me and my job now is to hang on to their coat tails for as long as I can.

Breaking free of the doldrums was like being given my freedom back. To get moving, and gain some stability finally felt like I was being allowed to do my job once more. I have now exchanged those head-banging conditions for a bouncy life on the heel which in honesty is just as challenging but at least I am going somewhere.

The reality is I have not slept enough, drunk enough or eaten enough in the last 48 hours and that is manifesting itself in the form of swearing at inanimate objects, a lack of patience, feeling sorry for myself, being close to tears when an unexpected wave spilt my cup of tea this morning, and once...only once...a full on belly roar at a cloud to "just get lost and go and mess someone else's life up for a change" (this language has been adapted to protect the innocent).

The express route to the southern hemisphere has closed. The writing has been on the wall. Forecasts show gaping wind chasms opening up in the route ahead and, although there was still a part of me that was holding out hope I might get an easy ride through this area like the front of the fleet, the game is up.