0151 UTC | 12 33.73N, 91 31.47W
Sailing
The blog comes today from the whole crew, which basically entails them shouting random animals we’ve seen today at me.
The multiple boobies on the bow of the boat led us into the day (record of 5 on the pulpit as it stands). First came the electric dolphins before sunrise, which was quite a sight to see. The whole of the pre-sunrise watch was kept company by 100s of very acrobatic dolphins, and it continued from there. A shout of "WHALE! WHALE!" came from Marella, which had everyone running, only to find it was an oceanic manta ray leaping clear of the water. This seemed to commence a symphony of leaping smaller mantas all day; everywhere you looked, they were somersaulting into the air like agile pancakes. That was just the start of it. We saw a manta 10’ from the boat with remoras attached, a booby floating along on the back of a turtle, and a minke whale accompanied us for a good while before disappearing into the depths again. The boobies are still on our bow, giving a new meaning to a poop deck, but the entertainment value is worthwhile.
So much has happened today that what would usually justify a whole blog is suddenly being remembered—the brightest stars of the trip so far, with a multitude of shooting stars and a clear Milky Way—and of course, after our salt baths crossing the Gulf of Tehuantepec, we have finally all had a fresh shower. Christine looks particularly smart in a dress and cardigan tonight. Has she run out of boat clothes, or is she simply dressing for the evening she wants (cocktails and canapés)?
Also, Delaney and Jake are in the galley cooking grilled cheese and tomato soup—all from scratch, including the bread—and the sextant was taken out for some pretty successful sights, only 11 miles away from our actual position.
All in all, a lovely day on Falken.
Mike (ish) and the crew of NORDIC FALKEN
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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.
