SALTY SEA DOGS
Sailing
After today, I think we can safely say we now have a salty crew—both literally and figuratively.
At 6am this morning, we were lolling around, motoring in 2 knots of breeze in moderate seas with 6–7s between waves (gross). Then, as we sailed into a very red sunrise, with a rather ominous stretch of cloud, the long-promised Tehuantepec winds arrived. Forecast: 28 knots consistent, gusting into the 30s. Of course, the winds took on the unofficial staff motto of under-promise and over-deliver.
We knew it was going to be a bumpy, wild ride, and it very much delivered. A crew that have previously excelled at eking out the best of 6 knots of wind have now helmed amazingly in 40 knots TW and knocking on 5m swell.
We timed it perfectly, that as the sun came up we were approaching a big ol’ cloud that marked the start of the real increase in breeze, and were through the peak and into a relatively mellow sea state again by dinnertime.
It’s been a long day for everyone, as the watch system was very much ignored in favour of being on deck, despite the walls of water frequently being sent into the cockpit. As such, I’ve asked each of the team for a quick sentence on today to help me out:
Delaney — ‘Sailing today—each wave brought a new mystery behind it.’
Christine — ‘Standing at the back of the boat, helming during the heaviest part of that passage was awesome. Huge waves and feeling the power of the boat!’
Jake — ‘The amazing way Falken handled this kind of weather, as if it was a walk in the park—it was awesome.’
Robert — ‘This is going to sound cheesy, but I was really grateful for the opportunity to experience another passing of the glory of creation. This was beautiful, and I’m so insanely grateful for the opportunity.’
Mike — ‘Sailing into the red sunrise this morning, our reefs tucked in, approaching a dark cloud ready to face whatever it brings. Accompanied by a brown booby on the bow and dolphins leaping around us. Today just showed how we come together as a crew and just get on with it.’
Marbella — ‘I can do hard things!’
Scott — ‘Pushing the boundary today, and driving the experience higher. I have not been in this heavy sea state before, even in the Atlantic, so this was a great experience.’
Jake and Lloyd were sensibly sleeping when I asked, but I think this gives a pretty accurate portrayal.
Everybody did brilliantly; this crew are so good at just taking whatever is thrown at them. Big thank you to Delaney and Jake too—they were beaming throughout the day, and it is so good to see people loving what they do.
I’m writing this as we approach midnight—the sea state has calmed down enough that I’m risking my phone on deck [note: the photo at the top of this blog was from similar conditions during FALKEN's sea trial in the English Channel in January 2023]. Sorry we don’t have a photo to portray the conditions we had today—it was simply too soggy for that!
In a few hours we’ll be back to the norm of light-wind sailing, and I have officially promised showers in the morning. What a day.
// Mary
View more passage logs
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.
Sextants, Polynesian Wayfinding, Captain Cook, and Tupaia, Oh My!
Somewhere north of Tahiti and south of Hawaii, aboard a 65-foot rocket of a sailboat loaded with GPS and Starlink, we pulled out a sextant. Not as a novelty—as a navigation tool. Because it turns out the 2,500-mile passage from Tahiti to Hawaii is less a ocean crossing and more a living museum of how humans have always answered the same stubborn question: where am I, and how do I get home? Captain Cook had his chronometers and math; his Polynesian crewmate Tupaia had the stars, the swells, and a map of the Central Pacific stored entirely in his head—and somehow, they were asking the exact same thing.
Star gazing and celebrating
Birthdays at sea hit differently—no cake, no candles, just brownies from a rolling galley and the Milky Way as a backdrop. It's day three aboard, and the skipper's birthday is just one of three to celebrate before landfall. Meanwhile, six crew members sat in silence last night, not from exhaustion or tension, but because the Southern Cross was doing something worth watching.