Day 7 At-Sea
13º 00’ N, 045º 27’ W
12 February 2024
2204 Ship’s Time
13º 00’ N, 045º 27’ W
Steering 285º at 9-10 knots
Welp, that’s not only the first time I’ve eaten ice cream offshore, but also the first time I’ve eaten hand-made ice cream on a boat! Manot outdid himself in the galley last night, spending several hours whipping—literally—a batch of homemade chocolate ice cream together by hand. I’m not even sure how he got the recipe. Mia’s onboard recipe book is extensive, but I’m positive it doesn’t include ice cream. Nonetheless, to celebrate crossing the halfway mark yesterday, we had hand-made chocolate ice cream for dessert tonight, topped with fresh, cold pineapple, and what a treat.
The bonkers tradewind sailing continues, faster and steadier than ever. Each time I check the log for the previous 24-hour distance run, the numbers get bigger. From 10pm yesterday until 10pm today we’ve covered 213 miles. That’s an average pace of almost 9 knots, and just with the white sails. We haven’t laid a finger on the mainsheet since jibing the rig around back on Day 1! Laying in my bunk down below I can just feel the boat accelerate down each wave, the water rushing by my head against the hull and the Watt & Sea hydrogenerator taking off with a spinning, buzzing ZIIIIIIIINNNNG! which sounds uncannily like a big fish taking out all the line off a deep-sea reel. The sailing is at once exhilarating and effortless.
I warned the crew that the second half of the trip would go by much faster than the first. There is no more acclimatization period now that we’ve crested the peak and are on the downslope. The minutes and hours, while still moving slowly, tick by with a smoothness that was lacking in the first half of the passage when folks were still getting their sea legs and learning how to sleep at all hours of the day and night. There’s a saying in cycling that goes something like, “Pedal slowly first—slow is smooth, and smooth eventually becomes fast.” The same applies to ocean sailing, I think. Ease into a passage slowly and before you know it you’ve passed the halfway mark and the ship is running like clockwork. Smooth.
The weather finally feels familiar again. After days of yellowish haze and cloudless skies from the African continent, we’re back into the puffy tradewind cumulus and heavy humidity that feels Caribbean. I wore a light jacket the first few nights at sea, but those days are over and it’s shorts and t-shirt around the clock. We’ll shower again tomorrow, moving the clean-up routine from once every third day to every other day to ward off the stickiness that comes with the higher humidity.
And so it goes onboard FALKEN. The watch changes. The helmspeople take turns. The coffeepot is refilled. And on.
— Andy
andy@59-north.com
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The Penultimate Blog from Adrienne II
After 20 days, and 3000+ nautical miles, we're back on land. The motley crew of Adrienne II, consisting of 7 happy amateurs supported by 3 professionals, have completed an epic journey many dream of but few realize. So much of this trip has been about being present - with nature, with each other, with this boat. My biggest takeaway from this trip is the amazing crossing of the ITCZ (Inter Tropical Convergence Zone). We all hope you've enjoyed the blog as much as we've enjoyed creating it.
Mother Nature, you’ve outdone yourself!
It’s been a great experience to have a non-traditional trans-Atlantic, as it’s been packed with genuinely cool features. The Doldrums!! A place sailors have been talking about for centuries. The unpredictability is what made it such an exhilarating experience. While some might be frightened or alarmed by this kind of weather, I was embodied with a sense of calm and awe. There’s something wildly beautiful about being reminded how small you are, while feeling so incredibly alive.
A Heavenly High
As you have probably figured out at this point, the drug of choice on board is, of course, celestial navigation- an art which has hooked offshore sailors for centuries. Once addicted, navigators will emerge from down below only to get their fixes two times per day, and spend the rest of their days and nights down below doing complex spherical mathematics. On Adrienne II, our skipper is our dealer. I must confess that I myself gave in to the strange urge which I’ve felt witnessing my crewmates practice this fine art, and yesterday felt an amazing sensation as I was able to wield the sextant for the first time and with it, bring down the tip of our starboard spreader to the top of our front sprayhood, presicely measuring the angle between the two (35deg, 38,8’ min). This afternoon, Naxo then showed me how to get my fix from the very sun itself - and I now fear there is no turning back.