Day 4
June 21, 2024 | 14:00 UTC
The wind picked up yesterday from the southwest, and we have since been sailing wing on wing on a fairly deep course of 150 degrees to the apparent wind. As the swell picked up progressively from behind, helming became more and more challenging for the crew, some of whom have never sailed in such conditions. Over the span of 24 hours, the improvement is remarkable—the learning curve is steep. We could say we have gone from “steering the boat left and right” to “trimming the rudder for waves and gusts.” In the meantime, we have gone back to “flying” mode, covering 213 nm in the last 24 hours without even trying. It feels like it would be difficult to do less. In a few more hours, we’ll be past the halfway point, 600 nm in.
What has been remarkable on this leg, particularly, is the abundance of wildlife around us. It has been said in previous blogs, but as we saw a group of whales (that we are still trying to identify) very close by yesterday, I’ll mention it again. It remains one of the most beautiful and impressive things I have been given to see. Out here, it truly feels inhabited, and we are just passing guests.
- Manot
ManotBerger
View more passage logs
A last hurrah
Under the dome of stars in a moon-less sky, each of us during our time at the helm used the most rudimentary celestial navigation, keeping a star or two lined up with the mast as a helper to following the heading range. It was a whole crew event to set the spinnaker, reef the mainsail and practice the heave-to in case of man overboard. Alex stressed that the key to success in all of these crucial activities is preparation. It was hugely satisfying to accomplish these tasks through teamwork. We share a constant good hearted back and forth full of stories, one-liners and comebacks that also means constant laughter.
One little bird!
Falken has almost rounded the Channel Islands and is cruising along splendidly about 100 miles offshore. Though several models predicted some slightly fresher winds today, we were met with a consistent 18-20 kts of pure bliss. It seems that from the moment we left the dock in San Francisco, there has been much laughter and conversation amongst everyone. The plan is to gybe in a few hours and begin our approach to Ensenada. As much as I do appreciate the jokes and intellectual musings, I equally appreciate the natural, silent moments we share at night, all of us on watch gazing up above to the shooting stars, constellations, and planets putting on their quiet show.
Birds and glows
The sun brought new wind and we were soon putting up the Yankee (jib) and turning off the motor. During the evening tradition of sharing “glums and glows” that follows the crew dinner, our Mate Ryan proclaimed it a “champagne sailing” kind of day. As Alex noted this evening, life goes by so fast that one of the very best things about his line of work is enjoying the passage of time in the slow lane of an ocean passage. But by tomorrow, the green blobs in the weather sailing app indicate we’re going to pick up some significant northwesterly winds and we’ll take them ever further south to the Channel Islands latitude. We’re all super excited for the knots to climb and to see Falken really run.