We had fairly calm seas and good winds for the first half of the day with a happy crew, full Yankee and the main up. After our delicious beans we got to eat Adam’s famous M&M birthday cake and sing happy birthday to Matt, who got a brilliant half-moon moonset and bioluminescence all through the night. The sunset got a 6.8-star rating from our captain, which is quite high.
We surfed through the night; the seas were smooth to slight (?) and the stars bright enough to guide us. After the moon set it got a bit trickier somehow to see the stars, but the Papagayo winds stayed with us for longer than expected, allowing us to sail over 200 miles. We saw manta rays, and a pod of pantropic spotted dolphins came to dance on our wake. We jibed a couple of times through the night and then sailed wing on wing in the morning before ultimately motoring with 3 reefs in the rest of the day after the wind died down. We used the spinnaker pole to go wing on wing (the pole gets attached by the “donkey dick” on the mast, and we learned that in Spanish wing on wing translates to “donkey ears,” so we’re big fans of the donkey here today.) It’s been hot, dry, and sunny, but everyone’s spirits remain high. Captain Mary’s lime Tajín papaya slices are a hit.
// Andreea
View more passage logs
Tahiti-Taha’a and a birthday
Bora Bora who? Leg 6 crew are aboard and setting their sights on the lesser-known gems of French Polynesia — Taha'a and Huahine — where vanilla farms, manta rays, and drift coral snorkels await. The new anchorage booking system is a noble idea in theory, though its website appears to share the reliability of the wind, which has cheerfully decided to blow from exactly the wrong direction. It's upwind sailing, birthday cake, and uncharted territory from here.
”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.