The speed picked up and I furled the yankee.  We raced ahead through the night with just the staysail and double reefed main.  It was blowing gale force now and we were going too fast.  My illness had returned again.  I was in a bad way, sleeping on the cockpit seats.  I just had to let the boat go, Mickey was doing a great job of steering and I seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness.  At one stage we took a wave into the cockpit, I was washed off the seat into the cockpit well, sloshing around in the water with a bucket and a bunch of ropes.  I just climbed back on the seat and went back to sleep, soaking wet.  Truce could look after herself.