Fuel fears and back in the trades!

2300 UT | 07°29.00’N 149°17.83’W
Sailing baby! Possibly boring you senseless with fuel chat
Good morning from a very happy Falken, currently cruising along at 8-9 knots. We've got the trade winds back! An event that Mary from 5 days ago would be relieved to hear about. Andy had asked me to write a blog on the fuel scenario when we first entered the doldrums. I didn't want to jinx anything, but now I'm confident we're back in the breeze you get the questionable treat of my fuel anxiety brain waffle.
When we stuttered to a halt on the 11th June at 2 degrees South I was more than a little perturbed- I believe my direct quote to Mission Control was 'We're getting absolutely shafted by the ITCZ'. When I gave the weather briefing back in Tahiti, I was maybe a bit too happy about the prediction of quite a skinny band of doldrums to pass through, and my smugness got a royal slap in the face when the forecast developed into an 8+ degrees thick band of doldrums as we got closer.
I'd anticipated sailing across the equator, having a couple of days motoring then hitting the NE trade winds on the other side. Instead I was looking at more than 500 miles of motoring. If we look at the motoring capacity of Falken you'll be able to see why I was slightly concerned.
We carry 600L of fuel, split over 8 tanks. Theoretically that would give us 120 hours of motoring at 6 knots—but there's a lil flaw to this. As it stood I was looking at a max capacity of 90 hours of motoring when we hit these doldrums—so it was a bit of a squeaky bum time. Also bear in mind that I need fuel to charge the batteries when we're out of the doldrums, most crucially the water maker.
Admittedly I am a constant pessimist when anticipating problems (shout out to Big Nez for that character trait), however I think plan for the worst and hope for the best is an appropriate approach in offshore sailing.
My issue was that you can actually get stuck in the doldrums, and I didn't much fancy that. So I couldn't just say well let's motor until the fuel runs out and then we'll just wait for the wind to fill in—sometimes that can take weeks! And there aren't many options in the middle of the Pacific for potential refuelling.
So what was my plan of action?
Read the full article on The QUARTERDECK for the complete story, analysis, and takeaways. Two-week free-trial for new members! quarterdeck.59-north.com
Mary
View more passage logs


Fuel fears and back in the trades!
Five hundred miles of open Pacific, no wind, and a fuel tank that wasn't going to cover it. Falken's skipper Mary had a problem: the ITCZ had ballooned from a manageable sliver into an 8-degree-wide wall of doldrums, and the arithmetic wasn't pretty. This is the story of how rum, restraint, and some very attentive helming got them out the other side.


The Rhythm of Boat Life
On land, your biggest daily challenge is finding a routine. On a boat in the middle of the Pacific, routine is a survival strategy. Tilt your world 15 degrees, swap solid ground for a restless, heaving ocean, and suddenly the basics—eating, sleeping, brushing your teeth—become a negotiation with physics. The question isn't whether boat life is hard. It's whether the hard is the point.


An Equator Crossing for the History Books!
By royal decree of the high seas, nine unsuspecting souls aboard NORDIC FALKEN were summoned before Neptune's mischievous emissaries to confess their sins, offer their sacrifices, and drink the blood of the ocean. What followed was equal parts absurd, sacred, and deeply human — pomelo-husk hats, Cheerio bracelets, and all. The equator has been crossed, the pollywogs are gone, and nothing about this crew will ever quite be the same.


