MANY FIRSTS ONBOARD FALKEN
Sailing
As I type this blog, Jake is cooking risotto for dinner; it is his first time cooking a meal for everyone at sea. It smells delicious. We’ve had many firsts so far on this trip, and it’s only day two.
Early last night as the full moon peeked out from the clouds and we drifted further offshore, Lloyd experienced being out of sight of land on a boat for the first time. Jakes, Christine, and a few others experienced their first full night at sea with a full moon peeking through the clouds. It was so bright you might have convinced me it was still daytime.
We had dolphins jumping during the night watch, maybe five or six but we told Marella it was closer to 100. As the sun came up and the coffee was set to brew, we managed a few hours of slow sailing. Soon enough the wind died, the motor came on, and the fishing line went out. We practiced reefing and reviewed the IRPCSs; we have a crew that’s passionate about good seamanship.
Just as I settled down into an afternoon nap, it was “fish on” and time to join the fun. Jake reeled in a beautiful Mahi with an assist from Mary with the gaff. To quote him directly, “Mary looked like she came out of a war zone.” We all felt pride in our skippers grit, and then suggested she hose off.
Another first came when Mary taught me how to fillet the fish. It went pretty well but it was clear which pieces were better off chopped up for ceviche…
Although I didn’t manage to convince any of the crew to write the first blog post at sea, Jake's agreed to be my co-author and provided all the ideas. The last thing he wanted me to note was how well we all mesh as a team. We’ve only been at sea for a little over one full day now, but as Marella shared during Glums and Glows, it feels as though we’ve known each other forever.
Motor is off, sails are full, all is well.
// Delaney
View more passage logs
First squall of the trip!
"We're gonna get our ass whooped" — not the sunrise greeting anyone had in mind, but Jim called it. The oldest and sharpest hand on board steered them straight through the squall, soaked to the bone and loving every minute of it. He's got a message for his wife, and it turns out she was right about the water.
Sextants, Polynesian Wayfinding, Captain Cook, and Tupaia, Oh My!
Somewhere north of Tahiti and south of Hawaii, aboard a 65-foot rocket of a sailboat loaded with GPS and Starlink, we pulled out a sextant. Not as a novelty—as a navigation tool. Because it turns out the 2,500-mile passage from Tahiti to Hawaii is less a ocean crossing and more a living museum of how humans have always answered the same stubborn question: where am I, and how do I get home? Captain Cook had his chronometers and math; his Polynesian crewmate Tupaia had the stars, the swells, and a map of the Central Pacific stored entirely in his head—and somehow, they were asking the exact same thing.
Star gazing and celebrating
Birthdays at sea hit differently—no cake, no candles, just brownies from a rolling galley and the Milky Way as a backdrop. It's day three aboard, and the skipper's birthday is just one of three to celebrate before landfall. Meanwhile, six crew members sat in silence last night, not from exhaustion or tension, but because the Southern Cross was doing something worth watching.