Crew Arrives
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
”For some things, we will never be ready.” - Moana 2
After 852 miles of open ocean sailing, the crew of Falken dropped anchor in Moorea's Cook's Bay—not with a quiet glide in, but surfing down waves in a squall, breaking speed records and cheering each other on through the rain. What started as a plan to "just dip a toe" into offshore sailing turned into something harder to explain: the worse the conditions got, the more alive everyone felt. Turns out the question was never whether the crew was ready—it was whether they even needed to be.
Kauehi conundrum
Kauehi atoll was always on the itinerary—until the forecast made it a gamble not worth taking. Squalls, bommies, a tidal pass, and no clean escape route: sometimes the hardest call in sailing is the one that keeps you out of a place, not in it. The Tuamotus will have to wait.
Hove-to!
Falken is too fast—a problem most sailors would kill for, yet here we are, tacking back and forth across the Pacific just to kill time. A rogue low pressure system south of Tahiti has stolen the trades and scrambled our timing for the tidal window into Kauehi's pass, leaving us hove-to 45 miles short of our target in the Tuamotus. Salt licorice, dream sandwich debates, and a philosophical question about mermaid reproduction are helping pass the night.