1650 UTC | 31°32.086’N 029°03.754’W
Sailing
Well “I woke up this morning” to a “zippity du dah kind of day.” Last night was quite a Rock and Roll time with big waves and wind.
Over the last two weeks I’ve become fascinated with the peace of no cars, construction sounds, feeling of hustle and bustle and have to get there.
Instead I’ve felt a real touch with music through visuals and sounds. First I noticed with both the moon and sunrises, the beginning of a crescendo as they rose and small beginning become larger and then a beautiful beam of light across the ocean.
The swish sounds of the boat going through the water with a little emphasis on their beginning if the bow hit a wave. The sounds of clatter if we are headed up or down too much and the sails would then talk to us in an angry racket. Sometimes just the crack of a whip (as in Sleigh Ride). The reaction of the dodger material as it felt the wind and boat movement. (Someone playing on a set of 4-5 toms with a soft mallet and ending with a buzz rather than single tap).
Of course there’s the sound of water drops if a wave splashes up too - like a rain stick in slow motion.
The moon sets with a decrescendo visually on the water, while the sun sets with beauty and color, a soft suspended cymbal roll that if one sees the “Green Flash” could end with a sizzle.
Of course then there’s the wind. At times it’s like an Alto voice humming and as the wind gets higher, the alto tone slightly rises and falls with the wind velocity. And of course, the rush of fresh sounds and feelings in one’s ears as the velocity strengthens and diminishes.
Besides the peace, beauty, and musical moments, the being with a fun group of very diverse but like minded sailors with a skipper, mate, and intern that have routed us around storms, fixed mechanical issues way above my knowledge, and encouraged and made this voyage a magical time. Thank you!
Linda, Adrienne II Crew
View more passage logs
Pre-departure
Hawaii to Alaska isn't a downwind romp—it's a chess match with the North Pacific High, and the opening move is never obvious. Ten days of refit work, new sails, engine services, and enough provisions to outlast a bad forecast have FALKEN ready for whatever the high decides to throw at us. The crew arrives in an hour, and by Thursday, the bow points north—route TBD.
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.
