Day 6
What a wet, wet night it was as we sped through the nimbo stratus in force 6, then the winds slowly decreasing. The slamming stopped and we sped through the North Sea on a smoother ride. Unfortunately, the wind slowed and reduced to nothing in the morning and we were motoring in fog. What a contrast. The rain continued, so we set up a crew rotation of 30 minutes: first on lookout duty, then steering, followed by radar watch, ending with some rest time. Slowly the fog cleared and revealed the coast of Norway. What a beautiful moment. Land Ho by sen GiGi at 1200 UTC.
But we were still a long way out from making port. This was a time of reflection about the trip, how we have personally responded, learning points, and future plans. Excitement grew as land got closer and revealed Norway’s amazing rocky archipelago. We ate supper as we entered the inland waterways. We knew we had to clear customs, so we headed for Hjellestad Haven to see if we could moor alongside. Unfortunately, there was no room. So we changed plan and decided to anchor nearby off Myntevic. We carefully positioned ourselves to drop the anchor. But when the time came, we found that the anchor chain had tied itself in knots! That is how rough the seas were off the Shetlands!
It was late, we were all tired, but we kept laughing at how there is always one more challenge. This time it was Manot who was the hero, pulling all the chain out, untangling it, and returning the chain to the chain locker. We were ready to try anchoring again and this time it went smoothly.
While we were playing with the chain, some of the crew came below and prepared a fabulous feast of tapas for us to celebrate our arrival. We toasted the passage and safe arrival with cold bubbly and shared our favorite parts.
What a great crew. We have laughed loads, worked hard, and challenged ourselves to sail out of our comfort zones.
- Jojo Pickering, Skipper, S/Y FALKEN
JoJoPickering
View more passage logs
”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.