18º 20.7’ N / 052º 35.4’ W
January 30, 2025 | 15:35 UTC | 11:35 Ship’s Time | 18º 20.7’ N / 052º 35.4’ W
Hello, this is Sarah. We’ve sailed 2,470 nautical miles and finally the air feels warmer. We have sunrises of lemon yellow, pink fluffy clouds, deep golden sunsets, and the sea is a dark aquamarine blue rather than grey. The rain squalls with gusty winds seem to be behind us, although maybe this is too early to say. The size of the waves has also now reduced from about 4 to 2 meters (I may be exaggerating), and the movement of the boat is much less erratic, so we have all had a chance to catch up on sleep while off watch.
We’ve seen very little wildlife on the ocean. The highlight was the group of sperm whales—probably females with calves—a couple of times. Some dolphins, probably Atlantic spotted dolphins, followed the bow when we were off the coast of the Cape Verde Islands. A few white birds with long tail feathers circled us when we were 1,000 miles out from Antigua. Last night, a single big bird with grey feathers flew close back and forth as if inspecting us to see if we would be a good perching point. Occasionally, a flying fish has had the misfortune to land on the deck. Once, in the middle of the night, one caught Emily (our long-suffering skipper) across the forehead when she was in mid-conversation. A real-life ‘slap in the eye with a wet fish.’
On board, we are a very content group. Time on watch together, particularly in darkness, has led to shared stories, discussions, reflections, and laughter. I’m aware of how lucky we are to have experienced something unique in this slow journey under sail we’ve undertaken together.
- Sarah
crew@59-north.com
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A last hurrah
Under the dome of stars in a moon-less sky, each of us during our time at the helm used the most rudimentary celestial navigation, keeping a star or two lined up with the mast as a helper to following the heading range. It was a whole crew event to set the spinnaker, reef the mainsail and practice the heave-to in case of man overboard. Alex stressed that the key to success in all of these crucial activities is preparation. It was hugely satisfying to accomplish these tasks through teamwork. We share a constant good hearted back and forth full of stories, one-liners and comebacks that also means constant laughter.
One little bird!
Falken has almost rounded the Channel Islands and is cruising along splendidly about 100 miles offshore. Though several models predicted some slightly fresher winds today, we were met with a consistent 18-20 kts of pure bliss. It seems that from the moment we left the dock in San Francisco, there has been much laughter and conversation amongst everyone. The plan is to gybe in a few hours and begin our approach to Ensenada. As much as I do appreciate the jokes and intellectual musings, I equally appreciate the natural, silent moments we share at night, all of us on watch gazing up above to the shooting stars, constellations, and planets putting on their quiet show.
Birds and glows
The sun brought new wind and we were soon putting up the Yankee (jib) and turning off the motor. During the evening tradition of sharing “glums and glows” that follows the crew dinner, our Mate Ryan proclaimed it a “champagne sailing” kind of day. As Alex noted this evening, life goes by so fast that one of the very best things about his line of work is enjoying the passage of time in the slow lane of an ocean passage. But by tomorrow, the green blobs in the weather sailing app indicate we’re going to pick up some significant northwesterly winds and we’ll take them ever further south to the Channel Islands latitude. We’re all super excited for the knots to climb and to see Falken really run.