Day 7

June 1, 2024 | 1857 UTC
Our last few weather forecasts have been uncertain. As we are getting closer to the Azores, we have been monitoring a shallow low that keeps shifting in unpredictable ways from day to day. The center, originally predicted east of the Azores by the time of our arrival, is now predicted to be west of the islands, seemingly at our exact latitude. This means that a big no-wind zone could lie just ahead of us. Our point of sail for the next few days will now depend on the movement of that center. If it stays as predicted, we might have to motor for a while. If it moves north by just a few miles, we could have some favorable westerlies, but if it moves south, we might end up beating upwind for some time. As of the time that I am writing this, we have good wind from the NNE, which indicates that we are in the northwestern quadrant at the moment. We will keep a close eye on the evolution of that system, as our ETA in Horta will depend on it, as well as our comfort onboard.
In another department, there has been a strong desire to see wildlife, and so far we have seen dolphins on multiple occasions, birds regularly, and electric dolphins once (dolphins in bioluminescent algae). But yesterday definitely stood out as we were visited by a small group of whales just before sunset. A humbling few minutes, observing each other, before they disappeared again in the distance.
- 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.
