At midnight, my iPhone showed the bearing to a waypoint at Cape Agulhas to be 10 degrees. We were in the Atlantic, but as the ancients knew, there is but one ocean, and our modern divisions are arbitrary. We had a straight course to the Cape of Good Hope, but Gannet sped through the night only for three more hours. By 0330, the wind was blowing 30 knots directly from Good Hope. With reduced sail, Gannet can beat to windward in such conditions, and I have, but it is miserable to do so. None of my boats, with the exception of Chidiock Tichborne, whose mizzen weather-cocked its bow into the wind, have hove to well, so I went on deck and again set Gannet up to lie ahull.