51º 32’5 N 128º 27.4 W
Time: 2000 local
Position: 51º 32’5 N 128º 27.4 W
Blog from Regina! Surprises in the Head, Phantom Porpoises and Baby Sharks
It’s not often you find a pleasant surprise in a marine head. Last night I giggled as I realized bioluminescent dots were circling the flushing toilet bowl!
After I joined the cockpit during night watch, I found our crew appreciating FALKEN’s bioluminescent and moonlit wake. Andy soon alerted us to a surreal sight — an electric porpoise (a.k.a. phantom porpoise, a.k.a. glitter dolphin). As our fast-swimming friend surfed FALKEN’s hull, we could see its every feature outlined in glittering blue.
We spotted sharks during the day. We shared this with Manot this morning, and he unfortunately for him asked us what type of shark. He was predictably met with a chorus of “baaabyyy shark … doo doo doo doo …..” The crew spirit is consistently top notch.
Nikki and Manot gave us sailing instruction, and an evening orca sighting under sail was the cherry on top.
P.s. shout out to FALKEN Bunk 2 alumni!
-Regina | 59º North Crew
FALKENCrew
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”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.