13.02 BOAT TIME | 07º 58.0’ S 103º 14.1’W
Sailing
Plan, go, learn, do. Why?
Mia prompted the group to provide the answer to why are we doing this trip?
From my perspective, we sail for ourselves. Not to impress anyone with dramatic story or photo. Not to run away, And certainly not for the creature comforts. We can only dream of air conditioning, ice and a comfy chair in the shade.
Are we here to visit a place we have only seen pictures of? Sure. To see wildlife, stars and miles of deep blue ocean? Maybe, but it goes deeper.
We are sailing to feel alive. To reconnect with ourselves. To simplify. To strip away everything we thought was necessary and get back to basics.
To be 100% in the moment. To be present at 3:00am, the time when all bad things happen, and the 65’ Nordic Falcon is clicking along at 10 Knots on a broad reach with a single reef in the main and the jib half furled. You can’t see beyond the mast as the sky and ocean are pitch black. The waives and swells are incessantly slamming against the hull, splashing and lifting the boat out of the troughs trying to knock you off course. Water crashes across the bow and occasionally into the cockpit to drench the helms-person from head to toe. Absolutely thrilling.
We are also here to slow down. Almost as if we put the whole world on a shelf. No news, no communication except between the 11 strangers on board. We are disconnected from the news, lost in our own space-time continuum of three hours on watch and six hours off watch. It all sounds so normal here.
We know the world will be there when we return, even if slightly changed. In the meantime we appreciate our families, friends, coworkers who are supporting our big adventure. We look forward to seeing you all soon.
But for this moment, we are here, eating, sleeping and sailing. Sunshine on our faces and the wind in our hair. Feeling Alive.
Love to all. Q
Quinn
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.