Golding jumps three places

Mike Golding jumped three positions in the Vendee Globe during the last 12 hours, moving in to fourth place and justifying his choice to take a southerly track before the latest way point or "ice gate" as they are called in the race literature. These are artificial points on the map that the entrants must negotiate. The organisers fix these points in order to keep the fleet away from icebergs, a perpetual hazard in the Southern Ocean.

Golding has sailed steadily since making a mess of his start. That he allowed himself to creep over the line early at the start of a 24,000 miles race, shows just how even the most experienced of competitors can let their excitement get the better of them at times.

Anyway today he's back in the mix but he must remember now, as should all the competitors, that the next stretch of the race could place some of the biggest demands on the boats so far. During this coming week in the last Vendee, as this article reminds us, there were three retirements and a problem for a number of boats.

It also notes that last time around at this stage, Golding was 775 miles off the lead. This time the fleet is much more tightly bunched. If the Southern Ocean delivers one of its regular batterings there could be another reckoning in store for this year's fleet which has survived remarkably well after the retirements of the first week.

Three Sheets in the Wind

This was oh so nearly the title of my new blog, changed only because it might have given the misleading impression that I am inebriated much of the time. In fact it's only some of the time.

I never knew what the phrase meant until I looked it up on the web where it says it refers to sailors who have had a few drinks too many.

It was an expression used frequently in my family when I was growing up in Yorkshire. But there the phrase had a broader meaning. Yes, it could refer to someone who was the worse for drink. Alternatively it was used to describe someone who seemed nonplussed or confused, a condition that would account for much of my life.

Indeed when the waves are coming this way and that in a confused sea state I'd say it is a fair representation of my thinking patterns when sailing. Left brained and right brained thinking are meeting to create the perfect brainstorm.

Yachts are technical machines, designed to handle unstable systems. If understanding the numbers is a science, reading the wind is an art. Combining the two intuitively in race conditions requires the kind of skills for which I have the greatest admiration.

Add to this a whole new language, then you can begin to understand how someone who struggles enough with plain English might sometimes have trouble telling his luff from his leech.

So why do I do this stuff, not just casually, but the kind of racing where you have to tie your bowlines under pressure? It's a question I ask myself frequently. The answer always comes down to the same thing: it's the people.

For someone who works most of his time alone, I like the challenge of teamwork, the opportunity to be a human part of an imperfect machine, solving ever changing problems created by complex systems. Or maybe that's baloney and it's just the sea and the wind.

If you look in my sailing section here you can see the kinds of things I have done. I came late to sailing, having hardly stepped on a yacht before heading from Rio for Cape Horn and the Southern Ocean in the 1996/97 BT Global Challenge round-the-world race.

That shared experience of adversity led to new friendships and more sail racing. I even bought a dinghy and sailed that for a while. For the past three years, however, fishing has taken over much of my leisure time. Sometimes sailing and fishing have met head on, as they did when I took part in the Round Britain and Ireland Race in 2006, losing a day of my late summer trip to the River Dee as a result.

Now the Financial Times has asked me take over its sailing coverage. I have quite a few plans but I'm kicking off my new slot today with a piece about women in sailing, focusing on Sam Davies, competing just now in the Artemis Transat race. She's a lovely young woman and I wish her well.

For myself, I have no idea what the future holds but I know this much - it's going to be fun. So let's go sailing.