*queue Coldplay’s ”Sky Full Of Stars"*

2330 UTC | 01°39.75’ S, 148° 39.03’W
motoring
I think when I look back on this passage the thing that will leave the most indelible mark on my memory will be the stars we’ve witnessed. Especially while in the doldrums. When I first sailed with Mary, I asked her where the best stars that she’d ever seen in her many miles at sea were and she told me without a doubt, they were in this exact stretch of the Pacific. Ever since then, I’ve been dreaming about what I’d see when I finally made it out here. There is something so dream-like about the never-ending dome expanding all around us, so many shooting stars we lose count. The extremities of the Milky Way so clearly defined that you can almost trick yourself into thinking the bright cluster of galaxies are actual clouds in the sky. Venus and Jupiter are so clear in the sky that when they drop down to the horizon to set, they frequently get mistaken for boats in the distance. It’s crazy to me to think that the light of the planets reflecting so vividly on the glassy water is really sunlight still reaching us at 3 am through the vast and incomprehensible entanglement of celestial bodies in the sky. I took a cheeky (clipped-in and well communicated!) walk to the bow last night to get a fully unobstructed view of the stars. I don’t think words will ever do justice to just how dream-like and otherworldly the views out here are. You lose your perception of where the sea ends and the sky begins. Especially as FALKEN’s bow wake is painting its own starry landscape stirring up the bioluminescence in the mystic waters below. I can stare forever at biolume or what Mary called “disco jellies”. My favorite is when the little underwater tornadoes from the hull flash in the depths like lightning strikes in a distant cloud. OR when you’re lucky enough to watch long enough to catch a fish darting out of the way, leaving a trail of glitter in its wake. Be still my beating heart! The world is so full of wonder and magic it honestly hurts sometimes!
We had such lucky timing for our crossing of the equator this morning. The sky was lit up in still hours of dawn, with the thinnest, most delicate sliver of a crescent moon hanging low in the sky, completely on its back which as Bruce mentioned, we only can truly observe at the equator. The whole crew gathered on deck and we counted down the seconds of latitude until we crossed the mythical boundary. Kip was shocked and disappointed to discover that no, there wasn’t a big spray painted line on the oceans surface. We put the ending in neutral and drifted slowly across the threshold. Everyone cheered and took in the moment together as a crew, marking a huge milestone in their sailing resumes. Some joked that their backs already ached from the new shells growing there.
We celebrated this auspicious day with another glorious swim in 5000 meters but this time, absolutely becalmed so we could luxuriate in the refreshing waters for a bit more. The giddiness from everyone was felt buzzing in the air as the crew gleefully lept from the side decks, plunging into the yawning abyss below us. If you’ve never had the chance to really stare down into a deep body of water like that, I would put it on the top of your bucket list. It’s almost as humbling as staring into a sky full of stars and makes you feel so so small. It feels like staring into the soul of the world, a never ending, benevolent depth of infinity. I have the chills just thinking about it! I don’t have any pictures from this swim because I tragically dropped my insta 360 camera into the depths below. Or Neptune took it from me as the ultimate sacrifice. A price I’m willing to pay to repent for the sins of this crew of pollywogs Mary and I have shepherded into his mythical realm. Everyone got their second shower of the trip and once we were all squeaky clean, the engine came back on and we continued our slow plod north. I can tell the helming is maturing as the last three log entries I’ve done we’ve been on exactly the same longitude down to the second! Well done crew! I’ve heard rumors that Neptune is making a visit today at precisely 1530. The ship’s sins are all cataloged and gifts have been prepared as sacrifice for Neptune’s judgement and absolution. Check back in tomorrow for a full update on whether this motley crew was accepted into Neptunes honorable court! YARR!
Phoebe
View more passage logs


*queue Coldplay’s ”Sky Full Of Stars"*
Somewhere in the doldrums, under a sky so thick with stars that the Milky Way looks like cloud cover, the line between sea and space stops being a metaphor. The bioluminescence below mirrors the galaxies above, Venus sets on the horizon like a distant ship, and at 3am it hits you that you're watching sunlight ricochet through an incomprehensible tangle of celestial bodies to land on glassy Pacific water. Then the equator arrives — no painted line, just a countdown, a crew holding their breath, and Neptune waiting to collect his due.


Last night in the Southern Hemisphere!
At midnight, Joey's watch sang happy birthday under a sky full of stars; by 0930, the crew had already swum in 5,000 meters of Pacific blue, chased rainbows through a golden squall, and eaten chocolate chip pancakes with Moorea pineapple. That's the doldrums for you—the wind dies and life somehow gets fuller. Tomorrow, Neptune comes to collect his due as SV Nordic Falken crosses the equator for the first time.


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.


