How about we just keep sailing?!
1436 UTC | 32°11.826’N 025°54.668’W
Sailing
Time is weird at sea. During the first few days of an extended ocean passage, it often feels as though you will never arrive at your destination. The miles-to-go tick down, and our log goes up about 8nm an hour, but the mountain that is an ocean crossing looms far in the distance.
We take it day by day. Occasionally I find myself measuring time by the number of yogurt containers left in the fridge.
Once we reach the halfway point, however, it feels to me as though the trip is basically over. Although half way means we have 9 or 10 more long and full days at sea, the concept of our time left to go seems like a blink of an eye.
And now, with under 600nm to go, I reach the point in our voyage where a part of me wishes we could just keep going. We’ve found a steady rhythm, I’ve come to know another top notch skipper and friend, and the ocean breeze at 32°N is incredibly fresh. I find I feel this same sentiment during most long ocean passages. As we get closer and closer, I begin to preemptively miss the wide open limitless feeling of ocean sailing. I know once we’re in sight of Gran Canaria, I’ll start to look forward to a shower, a nice cold beer, and a long phone call with my mom and dad. But from now until then, there’s a small feeling of melancholy for my time at sea coming to a close. Until the next…
As this is my last blog post for this trip, huge kudos and thanks to Bert, Molly, Linda, Bartek, Knut, and Simon. An enthusiastic and unique group of ocean sailors who have taken the last 14 days of upwind sailing like a walk in the park. And of course to our wonderful apprentice Anton, you rock! :)
All is well aboard Adrienne II, and we take each day as it comes.
Delaney Vorwick
View more passage logs
Pre-departure
Hawaii to Alaska isn't a downwind romp—it's a chess match with the North Pacific High, and the opening move is never obvious. Ten days of refit work, new sails, engine services, and enough provisions to outlast a bad forecast have FALKEN ready for whatever the high decides to throw at us. The crew arrives in an hour, and by Thursday, the bow points north—route TBD.
Ladies who reef
The trade winds have been kind, rolling the boat toward Hawaii in a steady, hypnotic rhythm—until last night, when a squall hit without warning and the wind jumped to 28 knots, slamming everything sideways. With rain driving down and the boat lurching underfoot, the crew had minutes to wrestle two reefs into the mainsail and get things back under control. What followed was a masterclass in wet, unglamorous, deeply satisfying teamwork—with less than 250 miles left to go.
Yankee Doodle Died at Sea, Riding on a FALKEN
A thin, foot-long tear in the yankee sail—50,000 miles of ocean behind it—and suddenly the final stretch to Hawaii just got a lot more interesting. The crew of FALKEN had been running a tight ship through the trades, reefing in squalls like clockwork, when the last dance finally caught up with them. How a skipper handles the moment everything goes sideways says everything about the voyage itself.
