2037 UTC | 29°21.447’N 018°57.214’W
Sailing
Dearest mother,
I hope my letter finds you well.
Since my last letter, much has occurred on board our dear Adrienne.
First off, on the diesel algae front there is not much to share, as we have held them off well and kept our engines running when we’ve had the need to.
A discussion has arisen on board, this time regarding what constitutes a sauce. Despite several days of detailed arguments, no definition has been found that can readily be agreed upon by all, even though many have been proposed. I shall not bore you with all the details regarding this matter (even though there is much to be said) but I will divulge that our crew’s psychologist, Simon, needed only to hear a few sentences of one such discussion before declaring that ”ah, fourteen days out here was what it took for us all to go insane.” Shortly thereafter, the topic of whether or not a hot dog is a sandwich was brought up.
I must say, though, that skipper Erik is an expert at managing these discussions, which can sometimes be heated, usually by readily agreeing with all sides.
It has been said Adrienne sails really well on a broad reach, but alas, I may never know as virtually every mile we’ve sailed has been at an apparent wind angle of less than fifty degrees, and skipper Erik predicts we are set to continue to do so for the last stretch of our our journey.
We now have only eighty miles until we encounter land, and fewer than two hundred to our destination.
I look forward to seeing you upon returning home.
Apprentice Anton
View more passage logs
24 hours of resilience
Thirty knots of wind, a 2.7-metre cross swell, and a crew being pushed to their limits — the first 24 hours aboard Falken have been anything but gentle. Seasickness has taken its toll, but the boat keeps moving, carving north toward calmer conditions. Last night, between the chaos, the Milky Way stretched clear across the sky.
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.
