KITE
Another star-filled sky as FALKEN continues to make good way towards the Marquesas. The kite is up, which requires a very special level of consideration, and Andy and Aidan are switching in to support the helm as I continue with the day-to-day chores. There is something magnificent about the night sky at this latitude and in such remote waters. Jim likened it to stepping into a planetarium—it really is very hard to describe.
With more room in our fridges at last, it seemed appropriate to chill a large bottle of drinking water ahead of dinner this evening, and the crew response was highly entertaining. It would have been easy to imagine that they hadn’t ever experienced the luxury of a cool drink before, as the “ooohs” and “aaaahs” resounded across the cockpit. Such a very simple, everyday concept that we take so much for granted in the normal world, out here in the tropics proved to be an absolute delight, and one that we will repeat.
It’s interesting that after dark every evening we see an increase in the wind speed, and it is very much a trend that we have noticed. The spinnaker (kite) adds another layer of complexity to a night sail, and FALKEN feels and sounds very different to me, as if she is running on adrenaline as opposed to her relaxed state from this morning—a feeling I see reflected in the crew. Nonetheless, our speed is good and we are still eating up the miles, and under the watchful eyes of Andy and Aidan it seems like a good choice for our penultimate days at sea.
As much as I try to live in the moment, the opportunity to talk to loved ones is temptingly close and one that I am very much looking forward to when we make landfall. In the meantime, it’s back to the running of the boat and looking after the crew for me!
Emily
EmilyCaruso
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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.