
14:00 UTC | 46°16.4N 148°28.1W
Sailing
For the ancient Hawaiians, O’ahu was the gathering place. Souls no longer tied to a body made their way to the western most peninsula of O’ahu and jumped off into their next existence; or perhaps it was to non-existence.
They called this place Ka’ena. My family’s home was on the opposite end of the island. On day one of Falken’s passage to British Columbia, we were to pass this headland. It started out gently. We motored off the dock adjacent the Hawaii Yacht Club exited the Ala Wai Harbor and turned westward. A new main sail and new yankee unfurled to the trades for the first time. We were underway in building winds and just as the main was reefed the winds died off.
Falken was in the lee of O’ahu’s western mountains; the Wai’a’nae range. It is taller than the island’s other range called Ko’olau and geologists say each is a remnant of two distinct volcanos. We were in the wind shadow of the taller range. The engine restarted.
Passing to the starboard were some communities where many residents are of Hawaiian ancestry: Maile, Nanakuli, and Makaha. The road ends at a long sandy beach. I bodysurfed there a few times but never ventured further. Many decades ago I dreamed of an attempt to drive around the point, but was overcome by huge surf. Today I’d get a photo.
It was known to the captain and mate that once we exited the wind shadow the pressure of the diverted winds, together with the regular flow would be strong. Many of the crew are experienced sailors. Others such as myself, not so much.
In short order, the winds built to well over 30 knots on the beam. Falken heeled sharply. The waves pitched up over two meters. This sea state was real. I tried to snap a photo of the point, but only one. I needed to focus on holding fast and being mindful of my every movement. The captain set a course of due north and we sailed a close reach.
Below deck I took a seat on the low side and became drenched in sweat. I’ve known toil but not never quite like this. Fear does not capture the feeling, it was more of shock and awe. My aft had been kicked and the attending hierarchy of needs reduced to a bare minimum.
I had finally rounded Ka’ena point. Ultimately it was not a religious experience nor metaphysical; just the first day of a twenty five hundred mile sail.
Cheers.
Daniel
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Day Four: The boat has figured us out
By day 4, things start to get into a rhythm that starts to look like a small community onboard. It’s when personalities start to flourish, when people start losing themselves and start to realize that they don’t really care about a lot of things! I’m pretty sure the disconnection from the internet starts aligning our inner selves. Clearly everyone has gotten their sea legs by now, and even the boat seems to have understood the type of crew she has now. I love to see how people start fitting into different roles with their peers and the boat itself.

Kärt barn har många namn
A dear child goes by many a name, or as we say in Swedish "kärt barn har många namn". This is the case for many a person, but also some species, not least the Mahi mahi, which also goes by dolphin fish, golden mackerel, and dorado, among others. Soon, we could see the fish jump, a hundred feet or so behind the boat, and as I kept reeling, a beautiful Mahi appeared under the surface. Manot showed us how to clean and fillet it, and after a complete team effort two large fillets are now in the freezer of Adrienne II.

Cast off the lines
When we awoke it was overcast but the Brazilian sun quickly burned the clouds away and we were left with blue skies. We reviewed some safety procedures, cleaned the boat and had an exciting Person Overboard (POB) recovery. Once we were underway spirits soared as we pointed the bow toward the Canary Islands. As I write this we are heading upwind and dealing with all that involves, and working into our first watches. It is hot, a bit bumpy but we are sailing!!

