Last weekend I saw my first ever iceberg. It was an emotional moment onboard Roxy – a mixture of awe and sheer terror at this beautifully fearsome monster of nature.

As it happened, I knew Roxy and I were in a zone where an iceberg had been spotted so I was keeping a good lookout. I saw the ice from my starboard porthole, and at first I couldn't believe my eyes. I was quite tired and not sure if they were playing tricks on me. When I realized it was for real, my first impression was of joy at seeing such a beautiful product of nature. This feeling lasted for about a quarter of a second, as the second realization was that it may not be alone and there could be potentially fatal ‘growlers’ – smaller bits of ice that are shed from the main iceberg and are impossible to pick up on the radar – in my path.

With this in mind, I clambered on deck, undoubtedly moving the quickest I have so far this race. My heart was pounding loudly from the worry of hitting a growler; I was doing about 15 knots and a collision could seriously damage Roxy, endanger my race, or worse still, my life.

I carefully scanned the water and thankfully only saw the big berg. Luckily, I was to windward of it, which was good news as any growlers that may have broken off would normally be in its lee, on the opposite side. At the same time, I was truly able to see the beauty of this frozen statue. The colours are hard to describe. The tip is a gleaming white, but the inside of the ice at sea level is an intense blue, almost mesmerising to watch. As I raced past, I saw the waves breaking on its cliffs. It made me shudder to imagine what would have happened had I been closer, plus inquisitive as to what it looked like under the sea – how much was it hiding?

I am glad I saw it; how many people get the chance to see such a sublime sight? However, it was definitely too close for comfort, and I really hope I never see one again whilst racing. The game of Russian Roulette, which is effectively what we are playing out here, gives me no thrills whatsoever.

The Vendée Globe race organisers have imposed ‘ice gates’ that all boats have to pass through. They are designed to keep us away from the worst of the iceberg zone, however there are some bergs that have drifted further North and into our path. Luckily, we are provided with a satellite service (CLS) that localises the bigger icebergs, and the information is passed on to us.

So now, as they say, out of the frying pan and into the fire. I have passed south of the Kerguelen Islands, and I’m now heading further north to reach the third ice gate to the south west of Australia’s southern tip. The low pressure that has wreaked havoc at the back of the fleet is now hitting us at the front. There have been reports of up to 60 knots of wind, which is pretty extreme, but not unusual down here. Roxy and I are both ready to deal with it so I’m not too worried; we have already seen winds of similar power in training runs. The hard bit is the waiting – waiting for the storm to hit, knowing that the next 24-48 hours will be cold, wet and tiring is mentally tough. Once the wind is there, you are too busy to think about it and you just get on with sailing the boat – fast, of course, as it is still a race whatever the weather.

So these extreme thrills add to the excitement and challenge of this amazing race. Ultimately, all this is a normal part of day-to-day life; however I think that once I am home at the end of this race and I get to look back on what I have gone through onboard Roxy, I will probably think differently.”