CREW comfort remains a woefully low priority for designers of the ocean going yachts in the Volvo Ocean Race.

These lightweight glass fibre moulds are just that. Moulds.

Forget interior niceties such as beds and heads, showers and flowers, doors and teak floors. There is no paint on the walls - paint means weight and weight means lost speed and the skimpy bunks measure an exact 1.8m which is nowhere near long enough for many of the towering crews.

Sleep is only possible when exhaustion creeps in, the violent noise and motion below deck preventing anything less than deep unconscious slumber.

There is not much in the way of bathroom facilities either. On Team Tyco, there is a loo - a purely functional device situated two feet from the galley, separated only by a flimsy kevlar curtain. Professional yachtsmen are permitted few inhibitions and pay scant regard to personal hygiene. Showers come in the form of rain or salt water splashes and toothbrushes form part of an essentials-only crew kit that comprises babywipes, a razor, two pairs of pants and socks and a T-shirt, but absolutely nothing more.

The galley is one solitary swinging burner where water is boiled to make cups of tea and hydrate packs of freeze-dried food. Crew can expect to lose up to eight kilos (a stone and a half) on the first leg from Southampton as they shovel down "plop food" which offers vital vitamins and minerals but no enjoyment. No fruit, no snacks, no chocolate, no beer and not even a jelly baby to break the eat-sleep-work routine.

There is no table to sit at, no fridge and certainly no microwave. In the freezing Southern Ocean, there are plans to put a small heater in the drying cupboard to dry out sleeping bags and soaked thermals. Bodies however, will have to put up with the relentless cold and saturation.

To the curious Ocean Village visitor, the boats might look large and luxurious but they are built only for safety and speed. Crews heading out of the Solent on Sunday are in for a tough time, thoughts of dry, peaceful nights after a session in the pub, a distant and affectionate memory.