north sea action
55º 54’ N 006º 32’ E
August 4, 2024 | 19:22 UTC | 55º 54’ N 006º 32’ E | 9 Knots
We’re in the fat part of the North Sea, west of Denmark, but it feels like we’re in the Trades today. Blue skies, puffy white clouds, and a steady 15-20 knots on the beam. FALKEN is cruising at an easy 9-10 knots on a mostly calm sea. The watch just finished cleaning up from turkey chili dinner ala Capt. Andy, and half the boat is napping with full bellies.
We left Amsterdam on Saturday morning, pulling out of our slip opposite the city centre around 0930 and steaming west down the river toward the locks that separate the below-sea-level city from the North Sea. The transit went quicker than expected, the lock-out was smooth, and before we knew it we had full sail up and were sailing fast to the WNW on a building SW’ly. We’d be in for a tiring night.
The forecast called for a weak cold front to pass over us later that evening, so with the building SW’ly wind we had building clouds and the occasional (very) light shower, but dinner was dry in the cockpit and we kept making our westing to get out past the congestion around numerous traffic separation schemes (TSS) directing shipping in and out of Amsterdam, Brussels, and Rotterdam, three of the busiest ports in Europe. Add in the wind farms and the oil rigs and there wasn’t much relaxing on those first few watches.
The front overtook us just as the sun was going down and the wind abruptly shifted to the NW and quickly built into the low 30s. We already had two reefs in the main, but the new wind called for the staysail, which we hadn’t rigged at the dock, so with some effort the on-watch hanked it on from the pitching foredeck while I steered FALKEN downwind to keep the boat flat, in the process losing the hard-earned westing and pushing us back across a TSS we’d earlier crossed. Oh well. With the boat reefed down we charged NNE, on course for the tip of Denmark some 400 miles distant.
The hard work continued overnight as the wind eased. First, we handed the staysail and re-set the jib, then by Mia’s midnight shift we’d shaken two reefs from the main—only to tuck them back in a few hours later. By dawn, though, the weather behind the front settled in and we were back to full sail, the wind gradually backing into the W and letting us ease the sails for the first time and flatten the boat out. Those who didn’t sleep last night during the commotion got their rest today in the relative peace and quiet.
As I write, we just crossed 280 miles sailed in about 32 hours, quite the clip considering that included our steaming out the river and waiting for the locks to open. The plan as it stands now is to make for Smögen, a pretty seaside fishing village about 30 miles north of our ultimate destination at Marstrand. There we’ll regroup and enjoy some coastal sailing on Sweden’s west (aka ‘best’) coast.
— Andy
andy@59-north.com
View more passage logs
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.
Yankee Doodle Died at Sea, Riding on a FALKEN
A thin, foot-long tear in the yankee sail—50,000 miles of ocean behind it—and suddenly the final stretch to Hawaii just got a lot more interesting. The crew of FALKEN had been running a tight ship through the trades, reefing in squalls like clockwork, when the last dance finally caught up with them. How a skipper handles the moment everything goes sideways says everything about the voyage itself.
A Gen Z Perspective
At 31, the crew thought they were reasonably fluent in the English language—then they met Kip. Today, the crew's self-appointed Gen Z correspondent takes over the log from somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, delivering dispatches on Milky Way night sails, focaccia-induced visions, and the singular mission of getting eleven people's "badonkadonks" to Hawaii. Consider this your glossary.