On all overnight trips, we start up a watch system as soon as we leave port of 3 hours on, 3 hours off. The on watch crew is responsible for the sailing and navigation, whilst the off watch crew can relax and sleep - always ready to be called on deck for any sail changes or emergencies. That's the theory - here's the reality:

07:00 - 10:00

My first daylight watch, so for me this is the start of the day. As we sail westwards, the sun rises progressively later each day - so to keep our body clocks and daily routine in sync with reality, we re-set our clocks back one hour every 15 degrees west we sail. A very easy way to avoid jet lag!

Having enjoyed the sunrise, it's time for breakfast and maybe just one more chapter of the current book before a few early morning chores. Before leaving Tenerife, we stocked up on large amounts of fresh fruit and veg from the local market. Very little of this can be kept in the fridge, so most is strung up round the cabin in net hammocks. Every morning there is a fresh produce inspection - to identify what has sprouted/gone mouldy/got bruised since the day before. This collection of slightly iffy fruit and veg then dictates what we will be on today's menu. The longevity stars are the cucumbers, which look as good as the day they came on board. The baddies? The vastly expensive carrots - they went from show-room condition to slimy black mouldy sticks in about 3 days flat.

By 09:00, the temperature starts to rise towards the standard 28 degrees - so time to rig the parasol in the cockpit and sneak another chapter of the book before Angus comes on watch.

10:00 - 13:00

In order to complete my required 8 hours of sleep a day, I retire back to bed for a couple of hours - if the sea is calm enough, I can open the hatch in the aft cabin and enjoy a doze under a lovely cooling draft.

Angus meanwhile gets stuck into his "to do" list - installing vents into all the lockers to improve the through flow of air, fitting locks on the locker lids to prevent the contents flying round the cabin should the boat ever get rolled, connecting up a new battery voltmeter to supplement the expensive but now faulty one he fitted over the winter, cleaning the fenders, creating a handy tool to clean between the strips of teak on the cockpit floor, servicing the bilge pumps, investigating the intermittent warm start problem on the engine... I frequently emerge from my sleep to be informed that Angus has made three improvements to the boat that day already!

Angus has also whiled away many happy hours re-learning how to fix our position by taking sun sights with the sextant inherited from his father. We both took the RYA astro navigation course several winters ago, and though the knowledge is still in our brains somewhere, it takes quite some extracting. The good news is that Angus can work out our position to within a couple of miles accuracy, so should Uncle Sam decide to turn off the GPS system, we should still be able to find the Caribbean.

Noon is lunchtime - we are very democratic on board, taking it in turn to be "mother watch", responsible for the day's menu. Sandwiches are our mainstays at lunch, however our Cape Verdes bread has just sprouted the most varied collection of mould I have ever seen on a loaf. Each day we trim a little more off the outside - but within a couple of days we will have to feed the rest to the fish. We certainly won't starve - the lockers are well stocked with long life pitta bread, rye bread, crispbreads, oatcakes from Orkney, soda bread mix from Kilmore and then there's the bread flour and yeast!

Following tradition, we also plot our daily position at noon, on our chart that covers the entire north Atlantic. Our target is to average 5 knots, giving us 120 miles sailed per day. So far, the GPS tells me we have averaged 4.8 knots - concealing some blistering sailing at 7.5 knots, and rather more frustratingly slow drifts at 3 knots. Every day, we review the distance left to St Lucia, and the number of days left until Christmas - will we make it in time???

13:00 - 16:00

Back on duty - however with the Aries self steering system steering the boat, and no navigation required beyond a daily position update on the chart, there is little active sailing required. However, there is always a never-ending list of small repairs, preventative maintenance and new improvements to be tackled. My most time consuming task has been the creation of courtesy flags for the Caribbean countries we plan to visit - these are little flags which you must fly from your spreaders whilst in a foreign country. By using my sewing machine, I could create these in a fraction of the time, but hand sewing them fills many hours that need to be filled!

The most important duty during this watch is the daily deck shower. The trick is to time the shower for once the heat has gone out of the day, but before it starts to cool down too much. The water temperature is now a very pleasant 29 degrees - but we are generally sailing in 10-15 knots of breeze so once wet, you cool off quickly. Having tipped buckets of salt water over each other, soaped up and rinsed with more buckets of sea water, we rinse off with fresh water using a garden rose sprayer. All marvellously refreshing.

16:00 - 19:00

This is our "social watch" - starting with afternoon tea at 4pm. I can't recall when this tradition started, but now 4pm is time for a cup of tea and a bun. Whilst I was still working I never baked, but now I have time on the boat I rather enjoy producing various cakes & biscuits for our afternoon nibbles. We are currently getting into the festive spirit by scoffing a batch of mince pies (mincemeat bought in May in Tesco's - how's that for forward planning?).

Before heading off on long passages, I draw up a menu plan for the first 7 days or so, then "go shopping" round the various storage lockers to find all the necessary ingredients, moving them all into our "day locker". This means we can just go to one easy access locker to find the makings for the night's supper - especially useful during the first few days when we are still getting our sea-legs.

Angus wins the prize for the most ambitious dinner prepared underway so far - turning out a fabulous lasagne mid-ocean as the boat lurched between the long Atlantic swells and a nasty cross-sea chop. Believe me, cooking can be quite a challenge when everything you put down slithers to the down hill side of the boat - especially when the boat rolls and sends everything flying in the opposite direction.

During this watch, we watch the sun set - one of the features I love about this trip is that we end every day chasing the sun towards the western horizon.

Darkness heralds the arrival of our nightly suicidal visitors - During the day, we watch the flying fish launch themselves out of waves to avoid predators. They skim along just above the waves for hundreds of meters, flying using their extended pectoral fins as wings and steering by dipping their tails into the water. They are able to avoid us during the day (hard to not see a 40 ft bright red boat…!), but at night they shoot out of the waves and smack straight into us. We have heard tales of crew being hit in the face by a wet fish in the middle of the night, but so far, only Angus has been hit on the back by a fleeing fish. Salty sea dogs recommend collecting the dead fish from your scuppers in the morning and cooking them for breakfast - I tend to try to rescue them as they land during the night - once a vegetarian...

19:00 - 22:00

Back on duty again - and again, the boat usually sails herself, leaving me with 3 hours of darkness to fill. This time is usually fairly evenly split between:

• Gameboy - Angus' gift to me last Xmas, and completely addictive. The competition for the highest score at Tetris is fierce. I think Angus reckons that retired test pilots should be better at high speed games, but so far, I'm ahead (got youth on my side??)
• CD/MP3 player - There's nothing quite like thrashing along under a starlit sky listening to Jaqueline du Pre, Barenaked Ladies, Franz Ferdinand, Christmas carols, or even the Goons!
• Books, books and more books - In every harbour, there are always people ready to swap books with you, but the trick is to ensure a "like for like" exchange - you don't want to trade your latest John Grisham for a Mills & Boon tale. We were lucky to do a good trade with Dutch friends in Tenerife, hence have a well-stocked shelf of unread books that we are working our way through. The transatlantic is a good time to tackle those weighty tomes - we know of one crew who polished off "War and Peace" in a little over half the Atlantic, and Angus is flying through "Lord of the Rings".

Of course, in addition to these man-made entertainments, there also a few laid on by Mother Nature - the stars this far from land are spectacular, and the bright green phosphorescence triggered in the waves by our passing holds an endless fascination for me.

My one duty during this watch is to listen in to Herb on the SSB (long range radio). Herb is based in Canada and provides a routing/weather service to yachts sailing across the Atlantic. There are a couple of yachts within 100 miles of us who call Herb daily with details of their position and current weather, and are then given 4 day forecasts and advice on whether to go north or south for better wind or sea conditions - which we can extrapolate for ourselves. In "normal" years, the trade winds would be well established and the crossing would be very straightforward, however this year the weather patterns have been disrupted by several late season tropical revolving storms (some of which temporarily became hurricanes). It has been very reassuring being able to listen in to an experienced forecaster and keep track of what's happening where.

22:00 - 01:00

Sleep - my favourite pastime. Depending on the swell, the motion of the boat can be quite rolly, however after weeks of practice I can wedge myself securely into the bunk for three hours of precious sleep.

The worst thing that can happen during this watch, is that your brain and body get confused - you look at your watch, wonder why Angus hasn't called you, get dressed and pitch up in the cockpit ready for your next watch - only to find that it's only 22:50... Very frustrating!

01:00 - 04:00

Or to quote Robin Williams in "Good Morning Vietnam", "Oh my god it's EARLY!" This is by far and away the absolute worst three hours of my day. What sane person would get up after only three hours of sleep?? It is always a battle to stay awake during this watch - when again, the boat is steering herself, and there is no navigation or other shipping to concentrate on. Again, the Gameboy comes out along with the book and the music.

04:00 - 07:00

Angus appears to come on watch, and I'm off back to bed in an instant. Sleep again at last - bliss!!

So there's a "standard" day - what excitements have there been? The cruising chute has provided the most worries so far. This sail is indispensable when sailing down wind in light winds - without it, we just wouldn't move. Whilst sailing down the coast of Portugal, the rope which hoists the sail to the top of the mast parted, dropping the sail in the water, so before leaving Portugal, Angus climbed the mast and fitted a new rope and pulley.

On the day that we passed the half-way mark, at 3am, there was a familiar pop and flutter as the cruising chute once more settled into the sea. Again the rope had parted - but this time, there was no nice anchorage to sail into for repairs. At daylight the next morning, Angus did his Ellen Macarthur bit, and shinned up the mast as the boat lurched drunkenly on the swells - the rolling at deck level being magnified many times over as he climbed the 15 meter mast... He's my hero!

We were soon back underway, making great progress with the cruising chute - but sadly for only 36 hours before the dreaded pop and flutter happened again. We have been lucky enough to recover the sail undamaged three times so far, and have decided it is time to pack it away until we can consult a rigger in the Caribbean as to why the rope keeps parting.

We arrived at Rodney Bay, St Lucia on 22 December, after 19 days sailing 2158 miles - very glad to arrive and leave the swell and squalls of the final couple of days behind. The contrast to the Cape Verdes and the Canaries was startling - this island is SO green and lush. This has been the perfect introduction to the Caribbean - beautiful beaches, palm trees, sunshine.

We decided to spend Christmas at anchor off a little island called Pigeon Island - a strategically important island when the French and English were battling over ownership of various islands. (Useless fact - did you know that St Lucia switched between French and English ownership 14 times!) Here, we have fallen in with a great crowd of amazingly friendly sailors - from USA, Australia and UK - who have introduced us to the joys of VOIP - enabling us to call home on Christmas Eve for free via the internet - what a fantastic system!

Christmas day started early - Angus is always an early riser, but really early on Christmas day! After pressies, a swim and then breakfast, we took a wander round the island before hooking up with our new friends for a "pot-luck" gathering on the beach. This is the standard form for social get-togethers within the cruising community - everyone pitches up with a bowl of something and shares. The day was finished off with a rum on a neighbouring catamaran - complete with Christmas tree on the aft deck. Sadly, we never found the time to cook our own Christmas dinner - so saved it for Boxing day, when we sat down to St Lucia chicken & carrots, Barbados bacon, Trinidad sausages, Oban stuffing & Tenerife potatoes - followed by Mum's Christmas pudding all the way from Orkney!

One of the surprises has been the offers of work which have arrived in the past couple of days. Do I want a 3 month contract to work for a telco as an IT project manager??? I've decided not to take up that offer - maybe during the next hurricane season, but now is sailing time. I have however, just accepted my first commission for some canvas work - time to start making the Sailrite sewing machine pay for itself.

So where next? Our friends arrive on New Years Eve for a cruise down the islands to St Vincent and the Grenadines, then we will work our way north to the British Virgin Islands stopping off at as many islands as we can on the way. From there, the current plan is to return south to Trinidad by June, but hey, plans are for changing!

For those of you with Broadband internet, this month's video is here