Wind is still blowing. It goes on all night. We hear it especially in the forward cabin. Quest is tied to the mooring buoy via the bow roller. She doesn’t snatch as much as when we had two bow lines making a bridle. Still, she pulls like a horse.

The wind pushes her in one direction with the mooring line holding against the strain. Then finally, she gives and moves to the other side of the buoy. Her side-to-side movement works against each gust of wind.

As she moves, the sea splashes against the bow. It makes you feel you’re sleeping next to a wave pool, divided by a thin wall. Duvets, sheets and bedroom – all of this a delicate construct with the water just outside. You can forget it when you can’t see it.

The wind is followed by sharp bursts of rain. The rain hammers on the coach roof. Our doors stay open, protected by the awning as water rushes into the cockpit. For the first bout, I get up out of bed. I have to. I check all the hatches are shut. That there are no towels or shoes outside waiting to be soaked. Or blown away.

The next time the rain comes, I don’t get up. But I still wake up. It’s impossible not to. Quest strains against the buoy again. If the wind is real fierce, the halyards ping and pong at the mast like one giant, out-of-tune guitar.

During the day, you have to be careful not to concentrate on it all so much. If you catch sight of a window, the view is constantly changing. We are moving, swinging, shifting all the time. It’s enough to make a person woozy.

It’s as if you’re trying to live your life – school, work, household chores at the same time as undertaking a car journey. You get good at blocking it out. Carry on doing your job. After all, nothing in Quest is actually moving. If you feel dizzy – just don’t look outside.

The rain doesn’t last long – not with this intense wind. It barrels through and disappears again. During the day we have the fun of guessing whether we’ll be hit by the weather. One side of Quest is bright blue. The other side is brewing a tornado. Usually this means we will get hit.

The hatches game is a constant feature too – though this doesn’t apply to everyone on Quest. Some people – cough, Ellie and Delphine – aren’t tall enough to reach the hatches. One of them might be in the future. In the meantime, they shift out of the way while we stand on the sofa. Open and close, open and close.

After a rainstorm, Quest gets hot again. All of us breathing, cooking, making heat.

‘Is it still raining?’ The outside of the window is covered with beads of water.

Me, Jack or Lulu opens a hatch to check. Ahhh, the breeze again!