February 9, 2025 | St. Martin Departure, Cutting the Lines
Today, we cut the lines—time to shove off. In only a day and a half since meeting each other, we have developed as a strong crew. In that time, already, we’ve grown to share humor, trust, and confidence. For some of us, this is the biggest undertaking of our lives, by far. For others, this is another treasured lap across the pond. We come from opposite sides of this great ocean we are about to cross, and we will work together to do so successfully and safely.
This morning, as I walked on shore to greet the rising sun, I said out loud to myself, “You’re crossing the Atlantic Ocean today, Dude,” and I cried for several minutes. We know not what we will find out beyond the islands that surround us. We have a confident and empowering Captain Erik, who gave his crew a thorough safety and weather briefing all day yesterday, and his First Mate, Tim, has made us feel confident in his knowledge of this beautiful vessel and its systems, with his humble and kind demeanor.
Lee cloths and lee boards are installed for the first few days, at least, as we beat “uphill” for a few days to the northeast. We’ve got our watch teams established, and our nicknames are already developing (we actually already have two “MacGyvers” on board). A happy crew is a safe crew, and we are ready to cut the lines. All the ‘Aumakuas are out there, waiting for us to pass by—10 friendly humans on a beautiful and prepared vessel, the beautiful Swan that she is, Adrienne.
We are stoked. We are confident. We are safe. The wind is up, the sails are ready to be unfurled, and the anchor will take a siesta for 3–4 weeks. Mahalo, Adrienne, for carrying this strong crew across the great Atlantic Ocean!
/ Ryan Redmond, Adrienne Crew
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.