The weather is great, all sun and no wind, and as I was exercising on our new running machine, I wondered what the next month has in store for us. After all, we are heading into the North Atlantic; one of the most inhospitable pieces of ocean the planet has to offer. Moreover, we will spen d a fortnight on the Grand Banks, the famous fishing grounds whose waters have taken so many souls. I recently read the Perfect Storm, a true story about one of the fiercest storms ever recorded- when three hurricanes met, causing an incredible extreme weather event..... they met over the Grand Banks.

It's been a hot and busy day. Working below in the engine room I wasn't surprised when I observed the thermometer finally peak at 37 degrees Celsius. Just at that moment the fire alarm sounded, and I rushed upstairs to report in at my muster station. It was a fire drill. Remon and I are the BA team. This means we are the first to enter any fire. We hurriedly climbed into our fire protection suits and breathing apparatus, helped by Jan and Robin our dressers. Meanwhile, Mannes, the chief engineer was relaying information to us that he was receiving via radio communicatio n with the bridge and Mike, the Chief mate from the other muster station. The "fire" was in the engine room. After a final briefing, and a cursory good luck from our team, we descended to see what we could do to save the engines, and in a real incident, the ship. The BA gear only provides approximately 15 minutes of air, so we needed to act fast. We set up the hose reel, and attached the foam nossle. However, in a trick of the drill, the fire pump was out of action, and so no water came. We went back up and out of the engine room to inform Mannes that there was nothing we could do; he needed to order a CO2 dump in order to extinguish the fire.

As the drill unravelled, Waldemar, the captain, informed the crew to prepare for an abandon ship. A human chain was made to retrieve the survival suits from their stowage, whilst others and I prepared the disembarkation ladders and simulated releasing the life rafts. In the end, (luckily), Waldemar decided we did not need to abandon ship, and that instead we could all go and have another of Rien's lunches.

Our stowaway, a somewhat dishevelled racing pigeon, was discovered yesterday. After a lengthy crew meeting, we decided not to report him to the authorities, and have instead adopted him and made him an honorary member of the crew. After some rice cakes and water, and a good sleep, at midday today he looked much healthier as he dragged himself from his pit like a disgruntled teenager. We'll have to see if he can find his way home from Canada. If not, I hope he likes maple syrup.

-Luke.