It hasn’t been this way in recent days, as we motored through the doldrums, in clouds and occasional rain while putting up with confused winds that added nothing to our progress or our comfort (hot and humid, and unable to open hatches for ventilation). Last night on midnight watch, the significant rain had me in full fowlies and my Dubarrys. Perhaps personally over canvassed, at about 00:50, the winds came, and all at once. Two minutes later it was 18 kts on the beam, the rain was gone, the motor went off, and we were back in business at about 00:52. Open the vents in the rain gear, and hold on tight—it’s going to get bumpy. We found the trade winds.
The Big Dipper has been visible after sunset since we departed Tahiti 13 days ago, but my friend Polaris has only been visible this week, reminding me that I am in my native hemisphere and getting closer to our destination. Oahu is 600 miles ahead, and as long as the clouds cooperate, I can follow him nearly all the way to Waikiki.
This experience is really something—visceral and introspective, while at the same time communal and participatory. Being my 4th leg with 59-North, I love this experience and would consider this the best trip yet. I look forward to discovering what my future adventures on this good ship will bring me.
- Adam Baker | FALKEN Crew
Write your comments below and I’ll forward it to the boat with the daily update :) - Mia (shore support)
crew@59-north.com
View more passage logs
”For some things, we will never be ready.” - Moana 2
After 852 miles of open ocean sailing, the crew of Falken dropped anchor in Moorea's Cook's Bay—not with a quiet glide in, but surfing down waves in a squall, breaking speed records and cheering each other on through the rain. What started as a plan to "just dip a toe" into offshore sailing turned into something harder to explain: the worse the conditions got, the more alive everyone felt. Turns out the question was never whether the crew was ready—it was whether they even needed to be.
Kauehi conundrum
Kauehi atoll was always on the itinerary—until the forecast made it a gamble not worth taking. Squalls, bommies, a tidal pass, and no clean escape route: sometimes the hardest call in sailing is the one that keeps you out of a place, not in it. The Tuamotus will have to wait.
Hove-to!
Falken is too fast—a problem most sailors would kill for, yet here we are, tacking back and forth across the Pacific just to kill time. A rogue low pressure system south of Tahiti has stolen the trades and scrambled our timing for the tidal window into Kauehi's pass, leaving us hove-to 45 miles short of our target in the Tuamotus. Salt licorice, dream sandwich debates, and a philosophical question about mermaid reproduction are helping pass the night.