Finally the boats have come home.  Not to London; but to where the hulls were moulded in 2013.  There was something for everyone in the trip up here: the heat of the South China sea, then wind-holes and fog off the Taiwanese coast which cost us our lead, and finally a roaring, screaming storm with winds up to 75 knots and temperatures down to 2 degrees celsius. My journal entries give an idea:

9.3.16 East China sea

So cold takes iPad ages to respond. Massive storm last night  worst weather yet. 6m waves 75knot gusts terrifying helming impossible to see due to spray and rain. Had to drop to y3 [smallest foresail] then m3ss [a fully-reefed mainsail and the staysail alone].

Hands frozen on helm still not quite right. Double shift tonight but at least wind and sea have  moderated

10.3

Not so bad today. Still cold  two degrees but sunny . Derry in our sights. Tacking duel to the line   

We never did make up that lead on Derry; but at last – after a brief dalliance with some fishing nets – we arrived in Qingdao tired, cold, and glad to be here.

The reception was as dramatic as in Danang, with rows of drummers vying with the sound system playing our boat song as we sailed into what was the 2008 Olympic sailing centre.

Ash was given a red Santa-like cape, and for the rest of us there were scarves and a monkey – it’s the year of the monkey – and beer. If you can keep the monkey away from it.

The following few days have been the usual cycle of deep-cleaning, maintenance, and fixing the bits that were broken in the storm.  We suffered relatively little damage, although at some point one of the aluminium steps had been ripped off the mast by a flogging sheet: a good reason to steer clear of the foredeck in such conditions.

New leggers – some returned from previous legs – have now joined us and in the next day or two we’ll be starting to rev up for the next race.  This is, undoubtedly, the big one: five and half thousand miles across the north pacific, waves the height of houses that stretch for half a mile, the source of most of the Clipper stories we’ve heard.

But we’ve sailed further, and for longer, in previous legs and after this last race we know that the boat and the crew can take whatever is thrown at us. The real challenge then is not surviving, but succeeding: with three thirds and two seconds already under our belt, we’re all keen for a gold pennant in Seattle…