“It’s now been heavily overcast and raining most of the time for the sixth day in a row. This is keeping the batteries’ charge extremely low, as well as my own morale. I did notice that there’s still some power left in the laptop’s battery, though, so I can still write a report in any case.

Out of these six days of bad weather, the last three were the worst. It rained almost all day long. Granted, there was a lot of wind, but it was mainly the direction that was the most frustrating; it’s been blowing due east these past few days at an average of force 4 on the Beaufort scale. So yep, that’s scuppered me and I’m being blown back towards Fiji.

Due to the lack of power I’ve been rowing without the auto-pilot for three days too. The GPS is off most of the time. The only thing I’ve got on during the night is the Sea Me active radar reflector, as there’s a lot of shipping traffic in this area. It goes off many times during the day and night, and I’ve seen the lights of ships around me the last couple of nights. No shortage of power in my immediate environment, it would seem.”

“There are a lot of thunderstorms here, and whereas I used to only have storms in the night during the first 201 days on the Pacific, I now get them regularly in both the day and night. It’s currently twelve noon and booming merrily away out there, so I’ve had to take refuge from the hard winds and rain in the cabin. Let’s see how long it lasts this time. The mega-depression I’m in now runs all the way from Thailand to New Zealand. I’m right on the edge of it, so I might be out of it tomorrow or stay in it for another fortnight. The latest news on the weather was that I should have the wind on my side tomorrow if nothing else. We’ll just wait and see.

All this time I’m having to spend in the much-too-small cabin is driving me crazy. All I want to do in there is sleep and navigate, and nothing else. Now I’m often forced to stay there longer. It might seem a bit claustrophobic, but it’s driving me insane – I regularly just sit on the deck during my breaks, even in the pouring rain. Next time I’ll bring a bimini top. Not for the sun though, for the rain.

It reminds of when I was crossing the Greenland icecap with a Frenchman six years ago. The two of us sleeping in a little tent was no problem, but being stuck inside it with a humourless Frog during a two-day storm on the icecap was another matter. We were even at the stage of peeing in condoms and pooing in the porch area. I just go mad if I’m stuck in small spaces bored out of my mind with nothing to do.

In any case it’s important to keep rowing to keep my body supple and in shape. I’ve been having more trouble with my lower back during this period of bad weather despite this, though. Sleeping at night isn’t going brilliantly either; there are still a number of small leaky holes in the cabin from back when I was shipwrecked on Atafu. Nothing serious, just a bit of water dripping in, but it’s really irritating because one of them is right above my head, sputtering on my head all night long. So now I sleep with a T-shirt over my head, which feels like the damp, cold rag.”

“So there I was rowing in the rain again the day before yesterday, when I suddenly saw a great green shape underwater. What on earth could it be? I kept following it closely until it became clear what it was. Boom, the enormous body of a sperm whale cleared the surface of the water in a single leap. What a huge animal – it must’ve been more than twice the length of my boat. Unfortunately they only come to the surface at some point out of curiosity before diving back down into the depths, just like the larger whales I’ve seen on the Pacific before.

I called Winnie in the evening and spoke to my three-year-old daughter Isis a while later, who asked me if I’d seen any fishies. And indeed I have; I told her all about the sperm whale. Thankfully she’s nowhere near old enough to think the name is funny yet.

That evening the wind freshened to force seven. The waves swelled to four metres in height and developed great white crests. I cast out the parachute anchor to keep the bow in the waves and curb my easterly progression somewhat. The boat was knocked about a lot, and late in the evening a large wave broke over the cabin, breaking the pole for the Sea Me antenna off the roof.

I inspected the antenna pool in the morning. Its metal foot on the underside had broken off. I sawed it back into shape and taped it together for now. If the weather dries up for a while at some point I’ll glue it back together properly with epoxy paste.

I’m not having an easy time of it mentally in any case. My motivation is beginning to drop. I need the wind to start coming the right way soon, either that or some sun – better conditions either way will do for a start.”

[As Ralph is almost out of power, he can’t e-mail any photos. The ones with this article are from the archive.]