On port tack our eyes are on Lisbon

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No waves, little wind from the aft, and one of our opponents less than a mile ahead … Luckily we can not eat your fingers because we’d all be crippled.

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Today it’s more about speed than strategy, we are all sailing in a straight line and waiting for somebody to make the first move.

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A failed sail change left “Brunel” behind and little by little we extended our advantage. When we were sailing next to each other, I was cooking and I almost thought they were going to sail into our boat.

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