Day 9 At-Sea
13º 10’ N, 052º 52’ W
14 February 2024
2308 Ship’s Time
13º 10’ N, 052º 52’ W
Steering 285º at 8-9 knots
We’ve slowed down a touch today with some lighter winds, but are still above our 200 miles per day threshold over the past 24 hours. You get spoiled when you top out at 220+!
I’m tired as I write this. It’s the tail end of my 2000-0000 watch. I’ll get 4 hours off, then stand the sunrise watch from 0400-0800 before getting a longer 6-hour break from 0800-1400. We run a staggered watch schedule on FALKEN whereby myself or Manot is awake, but staggered so that we get to overlap with each of the crew watches and thereby get to sail with everyone on the boat. The Port watch is on right now, standing their 2200-0200 stint. The waxing moon has provided the perfect runway by which to steer—keep the moonlight on the horizon just to starboard and the boat is bang on course.
We’ve crossed the 400-miles-to-go barrier. While it’s still a long way off, talk has begun of landfall and arrival procedures. I’ve been quick to quell it to keep people in the moment, but by dinnertime tomorrow night it’ll be inevitable. The ‘philosophical middle stage’ of this long voyage will end and the ‘landfall’ stage will begin. The crew, myself included, will shift our focus from the present to the future. We’ll look at the charts and plan our pilotage on arrival to Barbados (necessary); we’ll talk about the first food ashore we’re going to eat and how good a cold drink is going to taste (superfluous but fun!).
But that’s for tomorrow. Tonight, we’re still in the present tense, still gazing at the same stars that we’ve been sailing to for over a week now, still discussing the finer points of life at sea and still hot and sweaty from the afternoon heat. I’m topping up the water tanks tonight with a long run on the watermaker in anticipation of our last showers at sea tomorrow afternoon.
// Andy
andy@59-north.com
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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.