We made it. Passing the lighthouse that marked the finish at just after ten o’clock this morning.

How did we feel? Knackered. Smelly. Grateful. Elated. I suspect it will sink in in a few days time just how proud we all are to have competed in this amazing race.

But right now all the talk is of how we could have done better – how we could have changed course and missed the wind holes, how we could have pushed the boat even harder in the big breeze. We had no idea at the time that we were in first place for five hours early on in the race.

In the end we finished in 19th spot our of 56 boats in our fleet. It’s great to be in the top half. But the real achievement is in getting round. The Fastnet is the Grand National of sailing races. It’s more about hanging on and making the course than who gets home first.

Our crew had quite a scare during the qualifying races. On the way back from Cherbourg, still six hours south of the Isle of Wight, one of our crew fell overboard. He was still tethered to the boat so was being dragged along behind underwater.

We managed to get him back onboard and at first he seemed fine but his condition soon began to deteriorate. In the end the coastguard sent a helicopter and he was winched up and flown to hospital.

After a night in hospital with an arrhythmic heart he was fine. But that experience really focussed the mind on safety and preparation like I’ve not experienced in racing before. It was a sobering experience and really brought home to us before we ventured out to the Irish Sea that this would be no picnic in the park.

This is the 30th anniversary of a Fastnet where 15 people perished while doing the sport we all love. So congratulations to all who finished safely this year.

Now time for a much needed shower and some light refreshment.

We’ve had a disastrous 24 hours. With the Fastnet Rock behind us spirits were high as we began careering down the wave at ten knots with the spinnaker flying in 20 knots of breeze. It was hard work all round to be sailing at such a pace but great to be downwind at last and heading home.

As we sped along we could see ‘Anticipation’, another First 40.7, behind us and we were keeping them at bay. This was great news as they’re a very competitive boat in our class.

As they started to head way south of the rhumb line we had in our chart plotter we checked again and again to be sure we were heading in the right direction. Going at such speeds, a slight error in our heading would put us way off course within a couple of hours. But all seemed fine.

But in the early hours of this morning, just before the wind dropped to a whimper, the sad truth became apparent. A pair of glasses had been left beside the compass – glasses with a magnet inside them. They had thrown the compass totally off and we had been steering in totally the wrong direction.

This has cost is dearly. Only a dram of ship’s rum has helped with the sheer disappointment of sailing so hard only to learn we’ve been doing pirouettes.

Right now Plymouth seems a million miles away………

What a great sight emerging through the mist with its fog horn bellowing at us to keep clear.

It’s been a long slog to get here. After a beautiful morning yesterday the skies greyed and the wind increased leaving us crashing through the Irish Sea for 24 hours. In an attempt to climb back up the fleet the crew were put on just four hour sleep breaks.

Any other kip was done on deck sitting on the high side of the boat. So we’re all red eyed and exhausted but happy to see this small island with its tall white lighthouse appear in the distance. After a short beat to a racing mark we will swing round leaving the breeze behind us and launch the spinnaker.

We can’t wait….it’s a much more comfortable sail downwind and hopefully a little warmer. Most of my clothes are damp if not sodden after a soaking on the foredeck late last night as we changed down from a heavy genoa to a number three. At least it’s dry and warm in my sleeping bag….not that I’m spending much time in it!

Morale is high as the sun is shining, giving us a chance to dry off some sodden clothing and warm up a bit. Yesterday was a hard slog in every way – very little sleep, a lot of banging about in big seas and living in a boat that’s sailing at a sharp incline.

Apparently we’re using hundreds of calories just walking around (not sure that will outweigh the mountain of chocolate bars we’re consuming every day). When she’s heeling over at 30 degrees the simplest of things, like going for a pee, can take a huge amount of effort.

The forecast is a north westerly backing to a south westerly later – no sign of that southern, hopefully barmier breeze just yet. But it’s a comfortable sail with a lovely view of the Scilly Isles.

There are plenty of boats around us but we’re aware a couple of our major competitors, the other First 40.7 boats, are just ahead. So we’re concentrating hard on getting the most out of the ten knots of wind we currently have as well as the bacon sarnies and fresh coffee that have appeared above deck for breakfast.

The odours are a little ripe below. We didn’t want to carry enough water for washing because of the extra weight so we’re reduced to one pack of wet wipes between nine for the whole trip. I don’t think I need add any more.

Currently our position is 4 miles off Start Point doing 5 knots over the ground. We have a stiff breeze of 19 knots but have been fighting adverse tide until now.

What a difference a day makes. After yesterday’s flat sea and measured wind we’re currently ploughing through a lumpy sea with the smallest of our genoas hoisted.

Throughout the course of the morning we’ve gone from our medium weight jib to our heavy weight and then, as the wind continued to build, we eventually hoisted the number 3, designed to keep us more balanced and stable in winds over about 14 knots.

Switching to the smaller sail and lashing the bigger one to the deck took three of us. We spent that ten minutes on the foredeck submarining under waves of quite warm water. Stings the eyes a bit though.

It’s been a bumpy morning not without its casualties. One crew member didn’t keep his breakfast down – no names – but the rest of us are enjoying the roller coaster ride.

We think our tactics overnight paid off. When I came on watch at midnight we were going nowhere, just lolling about just off Portland Bay. We’d gambled on coming inshore whilst a lot of the fleet on the horizon were heading out to sea.

It meant a nervous wait for the tide to change to see if we’d make the right choice, but seemed to have paid dividends when it did. A fierce tide in the bay whipped round once it turned in our favour, propelling us round the corner and across Lyme Bay at a fast rate of knots.

Most of the crew have spent the morning sitting up on the high side of the boat to try to keep it flatter and more under control. It’s a wet and windy place to sit but the banter is entertaining. Sausage sandwiches for breakfast too!

We’re currently heading 243 degrees at a speed of 6 knots. Our position is 6 miles east north east of Anvil Point. There’s about 6 knots of breeze coming from the south and the sun is beating down. It’s a beautiful day for a sail, especially in the company of such prestigious company.

We’re surrounded by boats large and small, professional and scratch crews, who have it all to play for with 600 miles to go. Morale onboard Genie is high after getting a cracking start off Cowes, with our Big Nose spinnaker hoisted, we cruised past boat after boat.

The weather had been a bit of a surprise. At the skippers’ briefing yesterday all the talk was of westerly winds. Instead we were treated to an easterly from the off. With the wind behind us the fleet could hoist their brightly coloured billowing sails, and sail downwind for the first couple of hours of the race – much more comfortable than beating into the wind as was predicted.

But within two hours the wind died to nothing and we were lolling about in the middle of the Solent. When that happens there’s nowt to do but cringe as the boats behind, who still have some wind, gain ground.

It didn’t last long. Soon the windex at the top of the mast was wildly swinging through 360 degrees before settling down to indicate a westerly breeze was upon us. Up went the genoa as we began beating down towards the Needles, the far reaches of the Isle of Wight.

By this point we were passing many of the smaller boats who had started before us whilst the bigger boys were thundering down on us. ICAP Leopard, a one hundred foot Farr, tacked right on our stern and was soon accelerating past us, their professional crew all dolled up in swanky kit.

But I bet they weren’t eating pork pie and pickle in between tacks. The catering is second to none on this boat…the word is it’s chicken curry for dinner!