Day 3
Last night we had a stunning sail through a patch of rain clouds and managed to dodge them all. As Port watch handed over, their instructions were to “keep the speed, chase the rain clouds, try and beat their speed record of 10.2 kts, and keep your fingers off the engine buttons!” Sadly, the wind died shortly after this and we did have to start motoring.
We made the most of the calm day by motoring close to the west coast of the stunning Outer Hebrides. This positioned us well for when the wind returned, but it also tempted the crew to mutiny as the draw of Scottish whisky was discussed.
The area was teeming with wildlife and we all saw lots of puffins! They are such beautiful and comic birds, and a bit scared of Falken, so they quickly dived as we passed. The team saw many seals, some dolphins, and the scenery was amazing.
The sun was out and we managed to spend a few hours on deck without oilskins. We even got the sextant out and everyone had a go at taking a sight.
The wind came back in the evening and we are now having a memorable sail in the long midnight sun. It doesn’t get dark anymore!
- Jojo Pickering, Skipper S/Y FALKEN
JoJoPickering
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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.