day 5
Well, the winds picked up last night and saw us reduce sail to 2 reefs in the main and the staysail, yet FALKEN still flew on, often making 9 knots over the ground. We have been very fortunate that the sea state remains relatively kind, and despite some water across the decks, the hull continues to lap up the conditions and forge ahead towards Lagos. The sky did leak a little last night, yet the temperature on board continues to rise, making for some sweaty crew and making the thought of a shower even more tantalizing. By midday tomorrow, we should pass Lisbon, and then it's just one more corner until a well-earned beer or two. Once again into the night.
- Emily
Mission Control update: FALKEN’s YB tracker decided to go for a swim in the middle of the night, meaning the position on the map has been stuck for the last 24 hours. We will be updating the map manually every 12 hours so don’t worry if they’re not moving for a while! Everyone onboard is loving the passage and having a blast. FALKEN’s ETA to Lagos is early hours of tomorrow morning (UTC).
- Alex
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.