Crew Arrives
July 19, 2024 | Arrival to Bergen
Hjelmås, Bergen
It is 7:50 on FALKEN in Bergen and most of the crew is already up. Coffee has been hot for almost an hour and breakfast is served. I asked how they slept and one said, “Not really, lots of new noises,” and some others, “I had a full night’s sleep, without the teenagers in the house. This has been so quiet.” We have quiet time until 8 am; crew can be up but should be respectful of those who are still sleeping. At 8, I am tempted to jump in for a swim and take a last shower before taking off, and at 9 we will start the day. The plan is to move the boat (sail if there is wind) south to an anchorage and fuel up. The weather will dictate the departure.
A full crew of women arrived at 1 pm yesterday. This is one of our annual ‘All Women’s Passage’ trips with Nikki Henderson as skipper and me, Mia Karlsson, as mate. After a short introduction and familiarization with the boat, we dove straight into safety briefings both below and on deck, getting everyone familiar with the boat, running around finding all thru-hulls, and fitting lifejackets. It’s a long list to go over.
After a long day of prep, we all gathered in the cockpit for dinner: quinoa salad with salmon and tzatziki! It was the first time I cooked salmon in this boat’s oven and I think I was pretty lucky—it turned out great. Before we knew it, it was 9:30 pm with the sun still high in the sky!
- Mia
mia@59-north.com
View more passage logs
Ladies who reef
The trade winds have been kind, rolling the boat toward Hawaii in a steady, hypnotic rhythm—until last night, when a squall hit without warning and the wind jumped to 28 knots, slamming everything sideways. With rain driving down and the boat lurching underfoot, the crew had minutes to wrestle two reefs into the mainsail and get things back under control. What followed was a masterclass in wet, unglamorous, deeply satisfying teamwork—with less than 250 miles left to go.
Yankee Doodle Died at Sea, Riding on a FALKEN
A thin, foot-long tear in the yankee sail—50,000 miles of ocean behind it—and suddenly the final stretch to Hawaii just got a lot more interesting. The crew of FALKEN had been running a tight ship through the trades, reefing in squalls like clockwork, when the last dance finally caught up with them. How a skipper handles the moment everything goes sideways says everything about the voyage itself.
A Gen Z Perspective
At 31, the crew thought they were reasonably fluent in the English language—then they met Kip. Today, the crew's self-appointed Gen Z correspondent takes over the log from somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, delivering dispatches on Milky Way night sails, focaccia-induced visions, and the singular mission of getting eleven people's "badonkadonks" to Hawaii. Consider this your glossary.