Next Stop, Tuamotus!
12 May, 2025 | 1340 Ship’s Time | Full-Sail, Beam Reaching
I wasn’t sure we’d ever get out of Nuku Hiva. After spending over two weeks on anchor in a rolly Taiohae Bay, both Emily and I were ready for a change of scenery. We’re not your typical cruisers—after a passage we tend to sit tight in one place and recover, doing small boat projects, going exploring ashore where we can, but generally not moving the boat. For one, FALKEN is very difficult to sail short-handed. Handling the mainsail is the tough part; just flaking it on the boom requires three to four people and a deliberate plan. Plus, we’re happy to sit tight, and normally we only have five days between the end of one trip and the start of another.
But in the Marquesas, we had more time. Partly because we were ahead of schedule on the passage (I always allow more time on the longer trips), and partly because we knew that resources would be scarce in that remote archipelago, and if we did have any problems on the crossing, it would take more time than usual to sort them out. As it happened, we had a pretty uneventful crossing, and besides dropping the jib topsail off for a minor repair with Kevin at Nuku Hiva Yacht Services, we had a pretty mellow stopover. Make sure to read my blog from our hike with Tangy & Ana in the valley near Hakaui, which is posted on The Quarterdeck.
And yet, when the crew finally arrived on Saturday, the island didn’t seem to want us to leave. It’s just the start of the rainy season in the Marquesas, and boy did it show. For almost two weeks Emily and I enjoyed sunshine and the odd shower. I went for several jogs on shore (and got overheated!), and we had starry nights. But leading up to crew arrival, the weather took a turn, and on Sunday, yesterday, when we had planned to depart in the late afternoon, the rains turned biblical. All through the valley in Taiohae, waterfalls sprung up out of nowhere and the harbor turned into a muddy trough of washed-out debris. We couldn’t run the watermaker, but then we had so much water streaming off of our sun awning that we managed to fill our tanks in an hour, redirecting the flow right into the open deck fill.
So we sat tight, and woke up to sunshine this morning and a green light for departure. As I type this, FALKEN is out of the lee now of Ua Pou and sailed fast on a beam reach in bright sunshine and deep blue water, having covered 42 miles in our first five hours or so. The remnants of yesterday’s rains, though, were visible even 20 miles offshore—we sailed past an enormous tree stump, probably half the length of the boat and a few feet thick. A scary thought in the dark…
It’s hot and sunny in the cockpit, and the off-watch crew is taking advantage of the shade up on the bow, sitting on the windward rail behind the jib and watching the waves go by. Feels very good to be at sea again.
// Andy
andy@59-north.com
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The Penultimate Blog from Adrienne II
After 20 days, and 3000+ nautical miles, we're back on land. The motley crew of Adrienne II, consisting of 7 happy amateurs supported by 3 professionals, have completed an epic journey many dream of but few realize. So much of this trip has been about being present - with nature, with each other, with this boat. My biggest takeaway from this trip is the amazing crossing of the ITCZ (Inter Tropical Convergence Zone). We all hope you've enjoyed the blog as much as we've enjoyed creating it.
Mother Nature, you’ve outdone yourself!
It’s been a great experience to have a non-traditional trans-Atlantic, as it’s been packed with genuinely cool features. The Doldrums!! A place sailors have been talking about for centuries. The unpredictability is what made it such an exhilarating experience. While some might be frightened or alarmed by this kind of weather, I was embodied with a sense of calm and awe. There’s something wildly beautiful about being reminded how small you are, while feeling so incredibly alive.
A Heavenly High
As you have probably figured out at this point, the drug of choice on board is, of course, celestial navigation- an art which has hooked offshore sailors for centuries. Once addicted, navigators will emerge from down below only to get their fixes two times per day, and spend the rest of their days and nights down below doing complex spherical mathematics. On Adrienne II, our skipper is our dealer. I must confess that I myself gave in to the strange urge which I’ve felt witnessing my crewmates practice this fine art, and yesterday felt an amazing sensation as I was able to wield the sextant for the first time and with it, bring down the tip of our starboard spreader to the top of our front sprayhood, presicely measuring the angle between the two (35deg, 38,8’ min). This afternoon, Naxo then showed me how to get my fix from the very sun itself - and I now fear there is no turning back.