February 20, Day 12 | Star Gazing and Sugar Withdrawal
The trade winds held steady at a perfect 15 to 20 knots, propelling Adrienne II smoothly across the Atlantic under a sun-soaked sky. The only real inconvenience was steering into the blinding sunrise, making us all appreciate our sunglasses and questionable hat choices. Despite the nearly ideal conditions, morale took a hit as we realized our candy stash had been reduced to a few sad wrappers and a couple of melted leftovers.
The universe, however, must have sensed our plight, because during the night watch, we spotted a cruise ship glowing like a beacon of temptation on the horizon. Briefly, we entertained the idea of an impromptu boarding mission—just a quick sprint up the gangway to refresh our chocolate supply, maybe even try our luck at the casino before security caught on. But alas, common sense prevailed, and we stayed the course, compensating for our sugar withdrawal with the usual barrage of terrible jokes and puns that would make even the ocean groan.
Early in the day, we crossed the Mid Atlantic Ridge, marking another milestone on our journey—one more invisible yet significant line on the chart conquered. As night fell, we turned our attention skyward, where the stars put on their usual mesmerizing display. After weeks of speculation, we finally solved the mystery of the bright triangular formation we’d been puzzling over—turns out, Mars, Pollux, and Castor had been winking at us all along.
Later in the night, as the clouds rolled in and obscured our trusted steering star, we decided to get creative. Enter the experimental "reverse steering" technique, in which I faced aft and used Venus as my guiding light. It was unconventional, slightly ridiculous, and surprisingly effective—a perfect summary of life aboard Adrienne II.
Ken Cascio, Adrienne Crew
crew@59-north.com
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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.
Golden Day
The Pacific is giving us “the shimmer” - with a still flat sea seven hours out of San Francisco Bay, we’re motoring south along the shipping channel, with an hour to go to what teases now as a stunning sunset against wispy clouds. Throughout this first day of Falken 11 the sails have unfurled and been furled again as skipper Alex tries to fill them a meager breeze indeed. We’ve seen a few whales traveling along the route, and an otter that was sadly just a buoy. It’s the first open ocean sail for many of us and it’s a thrill to anticipate all the new experiences we’ll have.
Seasickness
But maybe, I thought, with some drugs I could stay ahead of it. The first 48 hours I felt horrible. But luckily with 3 health care professionals on board and in a very encouraging environment, my body found its way. Anyway, someone offered me a patch (unavailable in Canada) and someone else gave me some pills for nausea and now I feel much, much better.