30° 26'N, 031° 38'W
February 20, Day 12 | 30° 26'N, 031° 38'W
It took me a while to figure out what day it is and how long we've been at sea. That usually means one of two things: 1. The journey has now exceeded ten days, and after that, days and time start blending together. 2. Sleep deprivation is starting to take its toll. In my case, it's probably a mix of both.
The day began (as usual!) with a stunning sunrise—a pink glow painted the tops of the otherwise white clouds. It was still dark, but as daylight gradually returned, the glow of our navigation lights faded into the surroundings. During the night, our plotter screens shine red, set to "night mode" to protect our eyes and preserve our night vision. But as the morning light grows stronger, it's time to switch back to white light. The navigation lights are turned off, and just as quickly as darkness falls after sunset, daylight now takes over, marking the start of a new day.
The question remains—which day is it? Was it Wednesday or Thursday? Out here, it hardly matters. What counts is whether it’s light or dark—one of many reasons why life at sea feels simpler.
We’re sailing with full mainsail and genoa, with 17-20 knots of wind coming from just behind the beam. Adrienne surfs down every other wave, reaching speeds between 10 to 12 knots. Someone even managed to push her up to 15.3 knots. The sun is blazing, and our noses, ears, and forearms are covered in sunscreen. My own reflection stares back at me from Vegard’s dark sunglasses—he’s grinning as he stands at the helm. “This is awesome,” he let me know.
Suddenly, a new weather front rolls in—2 to 3 hours earlier than meteorologist Erik had predicted. The sunshine quickly fades into a gray haze, the humidity spikes, and tiny water droplets cling to our bare arms and faces, reminiscent of a hairdresser misting your hair with a spray bottle. The wind shifts abruptly, picks up to 25 knots, and forces us onto a new course. The waves, which had been propelling us forward in smooth surfs, now hit us at a different angle, turning our gentle ride into a heavy side-to-side roll. Just like that, life on board becomes a lot less comfortable.
We assess the situation, wait for the wind to settle, and then decide to gybe, adjusting our course to better align with our destination.
I’ll end here—my watch ended a while ago, and I need to make the most of the sleep I can get. Out on the Atlantic, sleep is a privilege, not a right.
Wishing you who read this a great day, hope you also have the opportunity to experience today's sunrise.
- Tim, Mate on ADRIENNE
crew@59-north.com
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Quadruple digits!
We are still headed north away from Hawaii, though today we have started to veer ever so slightly east. Speaking of miles, we hit quadruple digits today and are currently 1051 nms into our journey to Alaska. The sea state continues to calm down, and the famous North Pacific high is just out of our reach. The next few days will be a delicate dance of riding the outskirts of the high while avoiding the pesky low pressure systems that are dancing nearby. In his very wise words, we need to get north but not too far north, stay south but not too far south, continue heading east but not too far east, and avoid going west but also stay west.
The basics
Nordic Falken and her crew have been in a steady course of NNW since the departure of Hawaii. But! The good thing of all of this is that the promised land on which the high pressure lies has been getting closer and closer, meaning in a couple of days we're gonna see the wind slowly veer all the way to the South, which finally should see us easing the sails and remembering the basics of human nature all over again. The crew have been amazing and we've had everyone come around to push through fatigue, seasickness and soaking wet clothes. On another note we left the tropics a while ago and we can really feel the shift of temperature, long gone are the shorts and foulies have been the norm. Not much more apart from this, my intolerance to upwind sailing still pretty much alive but doing it with a bunch of such amazing human beings makes it worth it worthwhile.
Pacific pace
After some initial adversity, we untied our lines and left the beautiful island of O'ahu behind as we set sail north on an adventure of a lifetime. And that is exactly what we are - a family of strangers brought together by a passion for sailing and a love for the sea. The passage, while at its infancy, has delivered. The wind and seas, stars and sails all set the stage for a fantastic journey. We will see you on the other side with many stories to tell.