FLYING THE KITE + DOMESTIC CHORES
1810 Ship’s Time
Sailing
Lee & Liz are in the galley cleaning up from chili dinner tonight. We have routines at sea, where each day each watch rotates through the various domestic chores to keep the boat fresh, clean & tidy. The morning 09-12 watch is responsible for sweeping/vacuuming the interior living accommodation; the 12-15 watch washes out the cockpit; and the 18-21 watch does the dishes and ‘resets’ the galley, the biggest job of the day after 11 people have eaten dinner together in the cockpit. That’s done, of course, following our Glums & Glows ritual, the best part of every day in my book.
We staff share in the routines as well. Each day we rotate through who cooks the meal (I was on chili duty tonight, my specialty), who cleans the heads (that’s done on whoever has the 1930-2230 watch…we stagger the staff watches with the crew watches so that we get a chance to overlap and sail with everyone in the crew). In most cases, we’ve got three staff in the crew - a Skipper, Mate & ‘Extra Bunk,’ which often goes to an Apprentice and occasionally to friends, family or media. Later this season, for example, James Evenson of Sailing Zingaro on YouTube, will be joining in that extra staff bunk to film the passage from Tahiti to Hawaii. James famously sailed his wooden catamaran on that same route, the boat breaking up just before he made landfall in dramatic fashion, so he’s hoping to close the loop with us on FALKEN and document the experience.
We’ve been sailing since I shut the engine down just before midnight last night, enjoying a light but steady breeze all day, a nice change of pace from the motor-on, motor-off inconsistency of the first 24 hours. After “snack hour” today around lunchtime, we rigged and hoisted the big pink symmetric spinnaker, and the 3,000-sq-ft sail gave us two extra knots of boatspeed and steadied the helm. I think we touched 9 knots a few times in only 10-12 knots of breeze. The foredeck work was a fun respite from the mellow lounging around the cockpit. We struck the kite just before dinner, but left it in its bag on the foredeck in anticipation of maybe another round with it tomorrow. Dinner is served early at this latitude this time of year, as it gets way too dark by our normal mealtime of 1800.
Thus far this has been a slooooow passage, but extremely pleasant. What wind there is tends to be right on our stern, and there’s not enough apparent wind to set the pole and sail dead-downwind, wing-on-wing, so we’re forced to sail gybing angles. While the boat’s making 4-6 knots through the water, our VMG is less, so Cabo San Lucas and our rounding mark into the Sea of Cortez feels an awfully long way away.
But then again, who’s in a hurry?
// Andy
View more passage logs
First squall of the trip!
"We're gonna get our ass whooped" — not the sunrise greeting anyone had in mind, but Jim called it. The oldest and sharpest hand on board steered them straight through the squall, soaked to the bone and loving every minute of it. He's got a message for his wife, and it turns out she was right about the water.
Sextants, Polynesian Wayfinding, Captain Cook, and Tupaia, Oh My!
Somewhere north of Tahiti and south of Hawaii, aboard a 65-foot rocket of a sailboat loaded with GPS and Starlink, we pulled out a sextant. Not as a novelty—as a navigation tool. Because it turns out the 2,500-mile passage from Tahiti to Hawaii is less a ocean crossing and more a living museum of how humans have always answered the same stubborn question: where am I, and how do I get home? Captain Cook had his chronometers and math; his Polynesian crewmate Tupaia had the stars, the swells, and a map of the Central Pacific stored entirely in his head—and somehow, they were asking the exact same thing.
Star gazing and celebrating
Birthdays at sea hit differently—no cake, no candles, just brownies from a rolling galley and the Milky Way as a backdrop. It's day three aboard, and the skipper's birthday is just one of three to celebrate before landfall. Meanwhile, six crew members sat in silence last night, not from exhaustion or tension, but because the Southern Cross was doing something worth watching.