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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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.