Day 5 At-sea
Just as we thought we had run out of luck, the breeze has shifted and lifted, and FALKEN is making her way by wind power once again. This really has been a multi-faceted passage, which the crew have responded to with constant energy and enthusiasm. Each and every one of them can now confidently helm downwind without coaching, and a less vigorous sea state has certainly helped with development.
Deck showers were followed by a washdown yesterday, and yet the ever-persistent Sahara sand continues to taunt us, albeit with slightly less rigor. It was a welcome sight to see the sun today in all its glory, and the heat is noticeably increasing as the numbers fall from our latitude.
So as we close in on the coast of Sao Vicente and Mindelo draws closer, it is perfectly fitting that we are able to switch off the engine and enjoy the final hours of our passage with only the sound of water lapping the hull and the laughter that continues from the cockpit.
- Emily
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.