After what feels like an eternity of motoring, we’re finally free! The winds have blessed us since lunchtime, and it’s smooth sailing ahead. Yet again, dolphins have been putting on a show, playing on our bow. Meanwhile, in the galley, the lemon cake is in the making, so you know life is good. Of course, we’re also treating ourselves to hotdogs for dinner—nothing says ‘boat life’ quite like a hotdog while the boat heels.
We’re in the final stretch now, with 350 nautical miles still to go, but at least it’s a good time to reflect on how fast this passage has flown by. The conditions are a little chilly, but our super captain and meteorologist Erik has promised that sunnier and warmer weather is just around the corner. We’ll gladly take it!
For now, though, we’re making the most of the final days, savoring each wave and hopefully savoring some cold beverages (probably beers) once we reach Gran Canaria. Because let’s be honest, after days of sailing, there’s nothing like a cold drink in hand and the sun on your face. Cheers to that!
Vegard Øien, Crew
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.