34º11.5 N, 121º03.8 W
The seas have calmed down a lot from last night, giving us a much more comfortable ride as we head east on a starboard tack. A couple of hours ago we encountered a pod of 20-25 dolphins leaping from the sea at right angles to us; they passed under the keel and went off towards the open ocean. Spirits on watch are high, as most of us managed to get a decent chunk of sleep despite pounding waves earlier in the morning. Cirrostratus clouds are shielding us from direct sun while letting in lots of light and flashes of arctic blue sky. No traffic lately besides the dolphins and a curious petrel. Hopes are high that in the next day or so we can try some down-wind sailing, weather permitting. Many of us are using the calmer weather to practice our photography, and plans are already being made for a round of fancy margaritas in Ensenada.
Margaret H. | FALKEN Crew
FALKENCrew
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.