
00:27 UTC | 10º 00.97’S 123º 10.97’ W
Sailing
I stumbled out of my bunk this morning to a delectable smell wafting from the galley to find Mia pulling scones from the oven. After making myself a cup of tea and lathering my scone in strawberry jam, I enjoyed the cloud cover keeping the morning cool and the 15 kts of breeze keeping Falken chugging along. My peaceful morning was mildly interrupted by the squeaking the stove sings out every time it swings. No amount of WD-40 will silence its determination to drive us mad, but if that is the price of warm scones at sea, I will certainly pay.
It was a very mellow day on board, with no sail changes, steady wind, and plenty of naps. I even felt a little antsy this morning, yearning to move around on a wildly foreign thing called ‘land’. Not to worry, I distracted myself by poking fun at Adam and discussing guacamole with Kate and Phoebe. (Let the record state that it is a dip that should strictly be served chunky and cold.) Before I knew it, the urge to frolic in a meadow had dissipated and I found myself quite content with my current situation.
We’ve travelled nearly 2,200 nms and have just over 1000 more to go. All of us agree that the last thousand miles have gone far quicker than the first thousand, perhaps as we’ve settled into the groove of life onboard Falken and amongst each other. I’m a bit apprehensive of how fast the remaining thousand will feel, a statement that I realize sounds downright crazy given we’re talking about an entire thousand miles.
Alex has Bolognese simmering on the stove, and I’m keeping a semi-watchful eye as he’s on the foredeck taking some sights with the crew. A skipper with many talents—some might even call him a prodigy! Andy asked us to take a handful of sights for his celestial navigation workshop this weekend, that way attendees could have real-deal practice problems. We do hope they’ll inform us if we’re severely off course. Despite our fondness for life on the Pacific, I reckon we would all like to make landfall eventually.
The crew is in very jolly spirits and seem to enjoy each other’s company, as evidenced by our dinners becoming longer and longer ordeals. Dinner has many segments now, from Adam’s Analytics to Quinn’s philosophical queries to Alex’s weather briefings. Without fail, Ken enthusiastically volunteers to kick off our glums & glows every time. Thanks, Ken! The sunsets have been exquisite, the night skies clear, the cookies bountiful, and the laughter aplenty. Life is good!
Love to all,
Zoe Peach-Riley (Apprentice)
View more passage logs


Final Blog
Falken and her crew arrived safely into port last night around 8pm boat time, 10pm Prince Rupert time. Some spicy weather was anticipated, but luckily the 35kt gusts and 2.5 meter waves were no match for this expert crew. We had an exceptionally smooth docking, despite it being Alex's first time parking this year (!). We all agreed that this was a very special group of people—I for one am so impressed with how everyone stayed so positive, helpful, and appreciative of humor despite an arguably challenging passage. We'll all return home significantly saltier than we were when we left, a mark of a passage properly sailed.


Lessons and a Gift
The biggest lesson is the helm. The lesson here is that even if you don't think you can do it over and over again with no sleep, cold and damp, it has to be done and so it can be done. Flying fish are cool, dolphins are really really cool, but the coolest of them all are the whales. And most of all Alex: "Find your center Carla. Always know where your center is so you can come back to it". He means the helm but it applies to life as well.


Making the most of it
This passage has thrown pretty much every atmospheric condition imaginable at us. It reminds us not only of how much we’ve learned, but of how far we’ve literally come since that acceleration zone off the northwest corner of Oahu. The resilience this group has shown has been nothing short of incredible, and I couldn’t be prouder to be part of it. Maybe that’s why it’s the hardest passages we remember the most. Not because they were easy, but because they reminded us what we’re capable of.

