Elizabeth Hurst reports from the BT Challenge

The crew member from LG Flatron gets into the rhythm of life in the Southern Ocean

Hoorah, it's jam roly-poly and custard day. It is Day 9 on Leg 5 and our food packers made us wait this long for our first repetition of my favourite pud. We use 1.2kg of suet pastry mix and a whole tub of raspberry jam. The results are variable, but with 6 pints of custard it becomes almost delicious when we remember that we are eating to keep warm. It has taken this long for the grind to set in; the familiar pattern of work, eat, sleep is helping us to tick off each watch. We've done 20, probably another 80 to go.

We had a bit of a shock on Day 2 when we thought that we had encountered the first of 39 days of 50 knot winds. Thankfully it lasted a very short time, we were still fresh and the boots (we still only have one pair each on board) were still dry. We were fortunate enough not to have any accidents and the video footage of us being washed off the high side is hilarious rather than shocking. It was kite flying weather, sunbathing in the day, warm enough for sleeping in just fleecy liners at night and the first cycle of the eight-day menu (after a break of almost two months) provided many pleasant surprises.

The food isn't that bad - the first time. I guess that anything eaten with such regularity will become something to be endured. We had a small sail repair to do, it was very straightforward, no hassle and it was quite easy to share the table with the other operation - finger dressed, Cian was then able to join me and the leech patch. All in all, life was calm and pretty ordinary.

And then it got cold. It had been pleasant sailing but now I remember what was 'normal' on Leg 3, our last visit to the Southern Ocean. I smell, my bed smells and my socks have something not made in heaven living in them. I can't be bothered washing very often but that is OK because my skin seems to cope better with the damp and the salt these days. No spots or nuisance itches. This time I have mouth ulcers and so I am trying to clean my teeth more often but anything that involves the bathroom is an extraordinary chore. Things that seemed so important six months ago don't seem to matter anymore.

It will get worse as we keep travelling south. I will need to move my sleeping bag into my bivvy bag when the condensation level gets up. Last night, whilst sitting up in bed struggling to get undressed, the headlining dripped down my bare back. We all know which screams can be ignored and those caused by drips, whole cupfuls of wet, icy water, usually are. We were caught out a few nights ago in a bumpy sea, we all woke when Tim thought that his lee cloth had failed and he was about to fall from the top of the three-stack bunk.

The payback is huge. It is fun when you know that you are sailing the boat well. We had a wind change as we started our last six-hour watch and it took an hour to ease and tweak all of the bits that we needed to get us sailing at our best again. Most of us are quite familiar with the gruelling nature of what we are doing and we are able to put the suffering to one side. It is a joy to see the wind go light, ease the sheets, call for less halyard tension and be able to anticipate the changes that this will bring to the sails. We know what to expect and the call from my winch for less leech line is answered promptly and efficiently. It feels good when it is going well.

The waves are still beautiful even when they dump three tons of water onto the deck and threaten to tug my boots off. What would I do with only one boot? It is always a delight to watch the stars and the birds. I want to tell the birds that there are better places to live and then I remind myself that the Southern Ocean is a very special place without any of the hassles that people 'at home' have. We haven't had any whale sightings yet and, despite the worry and numb fingers and toes that goes with icy waters, I hope very much to see an iceberg.

All this makes it worthwhile and then it gets better. I know that I have two more sets of underwear, thermals and socks and I may still manage another week out of my 'start day' set. We've always had just the three sets for 40 days and I used to endure the first week, grudgingly cope with the next three weeks before changing into my final set for the last week. I don't know what all the fuss was about and maybe 14 days from each set would be best. although I could probably manage two lots of 19 days and a fresh set for arriving in port. Who knows?