Hilary Bowden at the helm

Those fickle wind gods have deposited us in the middle of a mill pond about 300 hundred miles off the coast of South Africa. The sea is so flat that it's hard to tell where it ends and the sky begins.

At our current rate of progress it is going to be Christmas before we reach La Rochelle in France. Tragically we hold the fleet record for having travelling the shortest distance in 24 hours. A pitiful 33 miles.

It's not that we're not trying. The slightest whisper of a breeze has us on our feet tweaking sails trying to squeeze a precious knot of speed out of Spirit of Hong Kong.

Passing the time

A crew member passes the time with a spot of fishing

But then the gust dies again and it's back to navel gazing - waiting for that elusive north westerly to give us a kick in the right direction. It's at times like this that our on-board stereo stops us from eating each other.

But adjusting to other people's musical tastes is a gradual process. Rick (Mr Greatest Rock Anthems...Ever!) is resisting Sophie's efforts to put on the soundtrack to The Sound of Music.

"Alright you can have it on - but you're not allowed to sing," he concedes.

It had all started so promisingly. We had a fantastic send-off from Cape Town on May 13 with Archbishop Desmond Tutu blessing us before we embarked on our 6,000 mile voyage.

We were one of the first yachts over the starting line and as Table Mountain slowly faded into the background the crew quickly adapted to life back on board.

Albatross tales

Skipper Stephen Wilkins grinds his teeth in frustration

Some exhilarating spinnaker sailing managed to propel our yacht into fourth position on the leaderboard. Then someone turned the wind machine off... leaving us to wallow as rival yachts clocked up the miles.

But even in weather conditions as frustrating as this - ocean racing has its own rewards. My favourite time of day is when the sun sets, throwing out dusky pink flares across the horizon.

You can spot the occasional albatross skimming effortlessly across the water - huge wings just inches above the water.

Jennie tells me they are meant to be the souls of dead sailors and on misty night watches that's not hard to believe.

Aussie Skipper Stephen Wilkins tries to raise our spirits: "We've clawed back the miles before guys and we will do it again." After polishing off the dregs of a bottle of whisky and port - we begin to share his optimism.

And by day four the wind gods have come around to our point of view. The wind we have all been praying for finally arrives. Alas it also coincides with a particularly virulent stomach bug striking down half the crew.

Every now and then there is an anguished cry as one of the afflicted shouts "Take the helm" - hurtles across the deck, ripping off their life jacket and clothes in a frantic bid to make it to the toilets - or heads as they are known on board - at breakneck speed.

Adrienne can make it from one side of the boat to the other in three seconds flat.

Behind schedule

Still... there's always the sunset

Despite all the tribulations it has still been a great week. We keep reminding ourselves that Spirit of Hong Kong was 272 miles behind at one stage in the second leg of the race but still managed to finish second in the end.

But it looks like it is going to take us at least a week longer than expected to reach our destination. The International Race Committee has been forced to put back the dates that the fleet is due to dock because of the light weather conditions.

We are now expected in La Rochelle between June 21-25 and back in Southampton by June 29/30. It is a big blow to the families and friends of the crew who had already booked earlier flights from all over the world to welcome their loved ones back after almost a year at sea.

Provisions on board will also be running low by the time we reach France.

Skip says: "That's the vagaries of ocean racing, guys."

Rick says if he catches one of those vagaries he's going to stun it with a winch handle and send it packing.