16.05 BOAT TIME | 09 09. 5’ S 138 46.1’ W
Sailing
The formula for distance to the horizon (in nautical miles) is the square root of the height of eye (in feet) times 1.15. Which means the easternmost island in the Marquesas, Ua Huka, which is 2,806 feet high, should have been visible at 60.9 nautical miles, at around 430 pm, ship’s time, this afternoon. We didn’t however factor in cloud cover. Instead Fatu Huka emerged on the opposite side around dinner time, that’s what you get for trying to do the math.
The French Polynesian courtesy flag is flying, along with the yellow ”Q” flag to show we haven’t yet cleared customs. We expect to make anchorage in Taiohae on Nuka Hiva sometime tomorrow. Fun fact that Alex learned today, customs is only open on Thursdays and Mondays. Tomorrow is Friday. After much finagling he managed to arrange for us to go ashore freely on arrival, as long as the boat didn’t pull anchor, and Alex kept all our passports and produced the full crew at customs on Monday.
Another spectacular sunset marked the closing of our open ocean passage. There are moments where I wish the crossing would go on forever (usually under the stars) and moments where I can’t wait to get ashore (usually around noon). The crossing has been a truly indescribable experience.
Land ho! (Which Ken called, and apparently means the first round is on him once we get ashore).
Phoebe & Adam
View more passage logs
Tahiti-Taha’a and a birthday
Bora Bora who? Leg 6 crew are aboard and setting their sights on the lesser-known gems of French Polynesia — Taha'a and Huahine — where vanilla farms, manta rays, and drift coral snorkels await. The new anchorage booking system is a noble idea in theory, though its website appears to share the reliability of the wind, which has cheerfully decided to blow from exactly the wrong direction. It's upwind sailing, birthday cake, and uncharted territory from here.
”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.