After a tedious slog under motors all morning and part of the afternoon I suspect some of the voyage crew are wondering why they came for a voyage on Duyfken. By mid afternoon we are in a good position to set sail. Suddenly there is a job for everyone as sails are loosed and sheeted home, yards hoisted and braced. The engines splutter into silence as the sails billow and strain in the easterly trade wind. Duyfken lifts pleasantly over the waves instead of crashing into them. The sun has even made its first appearance for this leg. Smiles all over the ship. The voyage crew are no doubt now congratulating themselves on their decision to come for a voyage on Duyfken. We make steady progress in towards the coast until Cape Upstart is clearly visible at sunset. The night closes in overcast and very dark. When Greg calls me at midnight the cape is looming black and close under our lee bow. Time to tack. Our voyage crew have not yet experienced manoeuvring Duyfken under sail, so tacking in the middle of a very dark night is a bit of a deep-end start for them. They perform admirably, though it's anybody's guess what goes through their minds as we heave and strain on ropes that disappear into the blackness overhead, and as heavy spars and sails rearrange themselves aloft, creaking and groaning in the mysterious dark tangle above us, all to the accompaniment of arcane commands issued from the break of the quarterdeck. Once the ship has settled down on the new tack Greg sends his watch below to get some sleep. Sounds like a good idea. We will be up again at four.