Day 3 At-sea
Well, what a difference a day makes! From three reefs and a partial jib to full sail, and eventually reverting to the trusty iron sail as the wind finally disappeared this evening. The crew have been having a ball and feeling jubilant to have conquered some rather large seas and fairly fruity gusts over the last 24 hours. Any sickness has abated and the laughter continues to emanate from across the hull. Even the dolphins showed up to wish the crew congratulations for having taken on the might of Mother Nature at her finest.
The predominant easterlies today have been a stark reminder of our proximity to the Sahara Desert, most of which now appears to be on board FALKEN, who looks as though she has undertaken a dodgy spray tan. The deck hose will no doubt be active as soon as we emerge from this giant orange cloud.
It’s sad to see the wind drop after such an incredible 48 hours, reaching some amazing speeds and surfing down the face of waves in the moonlight, but the crew are finally able to rest well and energy levels are returning to the good ship FALKEN. As ever, it’s inspiring to see friendships formed amidst the camaraderie that is synonymous with this kind of adventure. Looking forward to another amazing day tomorrow.
EmilyCaruso
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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.