Clear as a bell against the blue austral sky, the mountains of the Patagonia Cordillera, and the last great cape on our course around the world. It is evening. We are surfing gently in about 28 knots. All the crew line the side of the port cockpit, drinking in the first sight of land since we passed Ouessant, 39 days ago. This is an emotional moment on board. For some, it is the first road sign on the way to relief from the battering and cold we have experienced for the past 25 days. For myself and my core team, to pass this rock rising from the sea is a vindication of the months of effort we put into preparing “Cheyenne” for this adventure.

The last time I passed this way, I wrote: “Cape Horn is where land and sea meet, and hate each other.” For the violence of the scene as I sailed by. Today, it reminds me of the calm coastline of Baja California, but I am still aware, and in awe, of the latent power of land and sea here. Whatever happens in the weeks to come, we will all be thanking God a little bit, for having been allowed safe passage to this point.

In less than an hour, we will sheet in and point north to pass just east of the Falklands. The crew will be excited, knowing that now, every hour sailed is taking us toward more civilized seas.