Day 7
June 24, 2024 | 1300 UTC
The fog is still all around us—white, thick at times, clearer sometimes, and rarely gone. It is a funny feeling sailing “blind,” especially with 10+ knots of boat speed. I have spent hours by now staring out into the white fuzz, watching the waves emerge from it and disappear into it again. And although we might not have a clear sight of land when we arrive, it seems we are already living the full Irish experience.
Last night was a thrilling sail. Winds picked up, waves built, and it became the most challenging helming conditions yet. It was very nice to witness all that has been learned over the week applied in those conditions. As I am looking up at the log, I see 1158 nm—a reminder that we are to arrive soon. Indeed, we have started to talk about the tides of the day, planning for our passage through the sound, which seems to coincide with the passage of a cold front. This passage is going to be exciting all the way to the end.
- Manot
ManotBerger
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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.