Day 3
Lindesnes: 57.9810° N, 7.0486° E
Korshamn: 57.9361° N, 7.0806° E
Leg 1 Vindön-Bergen | Day 3
What a night. ISBJØRN ghosted into the night, happy to be in her element again. We did 2 hours on and 4 hours off. Sleep never gets good the first night on a passage, but everyone got at least a few hours, dreaming about the moonlight and stars the on-watch enjoyed.
What a day. When the sun climbed over the horizon, the wind slowly evaporated. But the silence was too precious to be broken, so we enjoyed slow living on a mirror sea until noon. We had just sailed past Lindesnes, the most southerly point on mainland Norway. We made a "skål" to the famous, at least in Norway, cape. Then we headed into the tiny and charming Korshamn, the locals enjoying the warming sun and the excitement of a visiting yacht in February.
We will stay here until the wind fills in from the south tomorrow. All well on the sunny Norwegian coast.
Jon, JoJo, and crew on ISBJØRN
JonAmtrup
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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.