The morning watch was nicely visited by 15-20 dolphins who seemed to enjoy Adrianne's company. When the wind lets us down, we find other joys. Besides nice music on deck, we usually discover treats in the kitchen’s hiding places, with a little help from hidden talents like Vegard fixing pancakes for breakfast and Ken baking the best pizzas a few hours later—all in an oven that passed its best a few decades ago.
The night that passed was really dark. Now the old man in the moon has disappeared for a while, and last night some stars tried to act as a night light but didn’t get very far with it. With that said, we have now done a safety check on deck, gone through sheets and lines, fittings and blocks—all before the downhill race we hope to have in the last 24 hours, starting Monday morning.
It now feels like we are a slightly bigger dot on the map as we slowly approach the GC with 530 NM to go! GC—here we come!
Jacob Gellerstam, Crew Adrianne
crew@59-north.com
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”For some things, we will never be ready.” - Moana 2
After 852 miles of open ocean sailing, the crew of Falken dropped anchor in Moorea's Cook's Bay—not with a quiet glide in, but surfing down waves in a squall, breaking speed records and cheering each other on through the rain. What started as a plan to "just dip a toe" into offshore sailing turned into something harder to explain: the worse the conditions got, the more alive everyone felt. Turns out the question was never whether the crew was ready—it was whether they even needed to be.
Kauehi conundrum
Kauehi atoll was always on the itinerary—until the forecast made it a gamble not worth taking. Squalls, bommies, a tidal pass, and no clean escape route: sometimes the hardest call in sailing is the one that keeps you out of a place, not in it. The Tuamotus will have to wait.
Hove-to!
Falken is too fast—a problem most sailors would kill for, yet here we are, tacking back and forth across the Pacific just to kill time. A rogue low pressure system south of Tahiti has stolen the trades and scrambled our timing for the tidal window into Kauehi's pass, leaving us hove-to 45 miles short of our target in the Tuamotus. Salt licorice, dream sandwich debates, and a philosophical question about mermaid reproduction are helping pass the night.