Sunday, mid-day, September 3rd.

We're 130 miles from the entry to Murmansk Fjord.

And the laptop is bouncing on the cabin table as we're hammering into a Force 7 north-westerly. The day is fine up in the cockpit, blue skies and white clouds, the sea whitewashed with scattered foam, fulmars gliding and a strong wake behind us.

We're not sparing the diesel or the sailcloth, as we're trying to get into the fjord before a strong southerly hits us, due tonight.

We've had good conditions since we passed Novaya Zemlya and got into the Barents Sea. We were saying "We'll pay for this yet".

Then again, maybe we've paid for it already.

The plan, when we make Murmansk, is that Slava , Colm and Rory leave the boat for Moscow, Rory continuing on back to work in Castlebar.

Tromso, in Norway, is 400 miles onward from Murmansk. There, Brendan Minish, Tom Moran and Eoin McAllister will join ship.

We're uncertain if we'll be able to get our email to work once we get to Murmansk because radio/ email conditions will not be good there.

But when we land, we'll try and send a signal somehow.

Mick With Seagull On Radar

En Route to Murmansk