Three storms in 10 days, winds above 60 knots, broken gear, a skipper knocked unconscious and an unforgiving test of the human mind. The Atlantic was only the beginning. The Southern Ocean lies ahead.
- 60+ KNOTS AND REAL FEAR: Daniel Pinsky hand-steers Exodus under bare poles in survival conditions, then climbs the mast to recover a lost halyard before facing more heavy weather.
- SERIOUS INJURY ENDS A DREAM: Guy deBoer suffers a serious head injury in a violent fall aboard Spirit. Following medical advice, Race Management has determined he cannot continue his GGR voyage, even in Chichester Class.
- FIRST GREAT CAPE MILESTONE: Race leader Damien Guillou aboard Solarem passes the longitude of the Cape of Good Hope, becoming the first skipper in the fleet to reach this significant milestone.
- BARNACLES, BROKEN GEAR AND BIG SEAS: Isa Rosli battles severe hull fouling, while Etienne Messikommer experiences the biggest seas of his life and celebrates his first albatross.
- THE HUMAN SIDE OF THE GGR: Tears, laughter, exhaustion, chocolate, Halloween celebrations and moments of self-doubt reveal the extraordinary personal journeys unfolding aboard these small yachts.
Sixteen sailors left Les Sables-d’Olonne, France, on 6 September. Only 12 remain in the main race. Almost 60 days and up to 8,000 nautical miles later, the 2026 McIntyre Golden Globe Race has reached the moment when the adventure becomes something altogether more serious. There are still around 20,000 miles to go!
The fleet has crossed the North Atlantic, endured the Doldrums, passed the Equator and fought its way deep into the South Atlantic. Now leader Damien Guillou has passed the longitude of the Cape of Good Hope, and the chasing skippers are turning towards the immense Southern Ocean. The next 3–4 months may decide who has the boat, the body — and above all, the mind — to finish.
This is no conventional round-the-world yacht race. It is a voyage of attrition like 1968 in small, traditional, long-keel yachts, sailed alone with paper charts, sextants, windvane steering and no modern electronic navigation. No shore team can fix a broken fitting. There is no call home on demand when morale falters. There is nowhere to get off when the weather turns ugly.
As the official GGR description puts it, this is the “longest, loneliest, slowest, most daring challenge” in solo sport. A circumnavigation can last around 240 days. After two months, most of the ordeal still lies ahead.
THREE STORMS. BARE POLES. REAL FEAR.
The past 10 days have delivered three fierce weather systems across different parts of the fleet. Forecast gusts in some areas reached 70 knots or more. Skippers have been forced to run before breaking seas, abandon their preferred courses, repair damaged steering gear and face the frightening discovery that their training cannot fully prepare them for the real thing.
Israeli skipper Daniel Pinsky, aboard the Baba 35 Exodus, provided perhaps the starkest account. In winds he reported as exceeding 60 knots, he hand-steered under bare poles while enormous seas crashed over the yacht. Cold, soaked and exhausted, he watched his self-steering vane and storm-sail fittings suffer damage.
“I have been through storms like that before. Nevertheless I was afraid,” he reported. “I hand-steered EXODUS under bare poles in 60+ knots… shaking from cold, soaking wet after multiple crushing waves.”
Then, with more bad weather threatening, Daniel climbed the mast to recover a lost storm-jib halyard. By 30 October, his message to Race Control was simple: “EXODUS is back in shape and sailing nicely.”
British skipper Henry Wootton has endured repeated heavy blows aboard Privateer. Breaking following seas have swept the stern, including one that sent water through the companionway. His wonderfully understated report: “SKPR SOH FAILURE.” Translation: Skipper Sense-of-Humour Failure. Behind the humour lies an honest admission that the storms have shaken his confidence and made him question whether he can endure the months ahead.
And Swiss sailor Etienne Messikommer, who only weeks ago was so frustrated by the Doldrums he talked of going home, has discovered the other side of the bargain. His message from Bernard said it all: “40+. Storm sail. Biggest sea I ever saw, beautiful & scary. Eating Haribos. Saw first albatross.” Fear, candy and pure ocean magic, all in one extraordinary day.
THE CRUEL REALITY: NOT EVERY DREAM SURVIVES
In the GGR, retirement can arrive through one broken component, one moment of exhaustion — or one seemingly ordinary accident.
American Guy deBoer had fought his way back into the adventure aboard Spirit after extensive repairs in Lanzarote. Then a violent fall below decks left him with a head injury and other painful injuries, making essential work on deck difficult. On 4 November, following medical advice, Race Management declared Guy unfit to continue in the event, including Chichester Class. He remains aboard and is being supported with weather guidance while a safe destination is considered. See the official race timeline.
Just weeks earlier, Ireland’s Pat Lawless had been running a magnificent 2nd, barely more than 100 miles behind Guillou. A serious Solent-rig failure ended his challenge on 17 October. France’s Louis Kerdelhué, the youngest starter at 21, retired in Recife after his prolonged battle with the Doldrums had left him physically depleted, more than 10 kg lighter and struggling to carry on.
The ocean does not care how hard anyone has prepared, how much they want to finish, or how close they are to a dream.
THE REAL ENEMY CAN BE INSIDE THE SKIPPER’S HEAD
The spectacular storms make the pictures. The isolation may be the greater test. Eight months is a very long time to be alone with every mistake, every doubt and every decision. One minute a skipper is thrilled by six knots of boat speed. The next, with the yacht becalmed or the barometer falling, the questions begin: Should I reef now? Turn south? Keep going? Can I really do this?
The remarkable GGR Window LIVE offers a one-way view into that private struggle without giving the sailors normal internet access or two-way conversations with the world. Viewers see skippers cooking, mending sails, laughing, thinking aloud, debating their own sail choices and sometimes arguing with themselves. These are not polished interviews. They are unguarded fragments of life in isolation.
British sailor Ertan Beskardes has become a favourite for his long, philosophical cockpit conversations aboard Miss Beagle. American Gunnar Christensen aboard Pompoen regularly debates whether to reef, shake out a reef or simply wait for the weather to make up its mind. It can be funny. It can also be unsettling.
There are quieter wounds. American Matt Woodside, sailing Tipi Haere, marked his late wife Sarah’s birthday alone at sea. Norwegian Mara Løvenskiold Kveseth sent the tender message “Happy anniversary Hubby” from Showgirl. Her Window LIVE participation is currently suspended while discussions continue with the team. And Guido Cantini spoke for many when he sighted his first albatross: “I’m scared and excited at the same time!”
In an earlier GGR report on isolation, founder Don McIntyre warned that modern expectations of instant communication make loneliness “all the more intense, and sometimes painful.” In 2026, Window LIVE is showing exactly why.
BEYOND THE CAPE. THE GREAT SOUTH AWAITS.
For Damien Guillou, 3 November brought a milestone with special personal meaning. Sailing his Rustler 36 Solarem, he became the 1st skipper of the 2026 fleet to pass the longitude of the Cape of Good Hope — approaching the waters where his 2022 GGR ended in disappointment. This time, he is still racing hard, managing the great Southern weather systems with calm determination.
Behind him, the contest is anything but settled. Ertan is defending his position among the leaders. Italian Andrea Lodolo has already been forced to sail west, away from the finish, to survive an unfavourable low before turning east again. Canadian Isa Rosli has spent punishing hours in cold water scraping barnacles from the hull of Olleanna. This may be the beginning of a bad story, and Isa knows it! Matt Woodside is gambling on the stronger, more dangerous winds farther south in a bold move to sail beneath the competition.
And all of this has happened before most of the fleet has truly entered the Roaring Forties.
The daily in-depth “Don Don” tracker updates on Facebook and YouTube are proving popular with sailors and non-sailors alike, with Q&A sessions that can take off in any direction, full of fascinating anecdotes and information—not to be missed.
Ahead stretch the Indian Ocean, the Great Australian Bight, the lonely Pacific and, eventually, Cape Horn. There are roughly 20,000 nautical miles still to sail for many of these small boats. More gales will come. Gear will break. Confidence will rise and fall. More competitors may have to make the hardest decision in ocean racing: to stop.
But that is why the Golden Globe Race is unlike any other sporting event. It is not simply about who sails fastest. It is about who can keep sailing when the race has stripped everything else away. That is when they must dig deep into their minds.
So far, so good? Perhaps. But the Golden Globe Race has barely shown its teeth.
ENDS
