Day 10
June 4, 2024 | 16:30 UTC
The last 20 hours have been underlined by the low hum of FALKEN’s engine. In the end, our luck ran out, as we caught up with that no wind zone we had been expecting to reach at any moment for a few days now. This night will be our last night at sea; we are expecting to make landfall in Horta sometime tomorrow afternoon. The excitement is again palpable, as I think everyone is looking forward to a nice little stroll, a warm shower, and a fresh beverage somewhere surrounded by those earthy things—plants, stones, soil. But for now, we have this last day and night to take it all in. The big blue, all around us, water and sky.
We have had some fabulous nights on this crossing: dark skies allowing us to see the Milky Way in great detail, along with many nebulae, star clusters, and galaxies (all visible to the naked eye), and of course, thousands of satellites, which make the sky feel strangely futuristic compared to the skies of my childhood. FALKEN, gliding effortlessly from one continent to another under a hyper-modern, space-age night sky, using millennia-old technology. Seems to me like we are exactly at the right place at the right time.
- Manot
ManotBerger
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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.