Ready for the tough stuff in last hours to Hobart Brindabella early in the race Picture supplied by Rolex Source: AP Aboard Brindabella Picture: Simon King Source: Supplied TAKE us home Jim! I can smell those scallop pies already," yells crew boss Damo Goff to owner and skipper Jim Cooney as Brindabella kisses 20 knots in Bass Strait. We're in great conditions but it was going to be very different this night. We're 230 nautical miles from "the corner" and trying to maintain 15-17 knots. At that rate we'll maybe cop four or five hours of the predicted tough stuff early on Sunday morning. "So far we've had an easy run through the strait," Bill Sykes says. So far it's been an easy Hobart. And with the sun shining and 25-knot winds, it's easy not to give this piece of water the respect it deserves. We know we're going to get a taste of it before we get to Tassie. We'll probably get a meal of it," crew boss Damon Goff says. And as Watch captain Stu Don immediately points out, "the beers won't taste nearly as good if we get there in conditions like this." But as Don warned on Friday night just after we've confirmed at Green Cape with race control that the crew and vessel are okay and the owner and skipper have made the call that we're fit to go into Bass Strait - necessary as a result of the 1998 tragedy - it can be much worse "You've got two converging currents and given the prevailing weather conditions, it's a meteorological bombshell," he says. "Come on Huey," is the repeated call to the god of wind The mood is not only boosted by the weather - we gained 10 miles on Wild Oats and 30 miles on the big boats overnight. Gliding through the phosphorescent plankton of the southern ocean - three sheets to the wind - under a starlit sky is the stuff of sailing fantasy. Which is a relief - changing sails repeatedly in the dark when you can barely see the man next to you is hard. Particularly when the most sleep you had since Boxing Day is two-odd hours in a row. And frustrations flare. But they were largely about maintaining safety - the reputation of this piece of water proceeds it. Plus after two nights at sea everything is beginning to ache (and maybe smell). Adding to the eerie effect of sailing at night are the red-head torches a handful wear - the light doesn't blind when shone in the dark. As we entered the strait our Dutch crew mate Jilles Verheggen firstly asks where are all the other boats - good question - and then observes: "It's like sailing to England in the North Sea." There is a touching moment as all the watches are called on deck on the early hours of Saturday morning - it is a tradition when in the straight to honour fallen friends. Sailing master Bradshaw Kellett says a few words saluting two mates - there is a round of applause. He then welcomes the six Hobart first-timers with a handshake - their real initiation will come at Constitution Dock. As this goes on, dolphins play on our wake - there may not be many boats out here but there's plenty of wildlife - two whales cruise past the bow.