spinnaker
58º 13.4’ N 010º 55.7’ E
It is 1830 on FALKEN. Mitch and Joe have just finished up dishes and everyone is up and hanging in the cockpit. You can feel the excitement of landfall in the air. The day has been one of those magical days you don’t often get on a passage, when the temperature is just right, the sun is out, and the boat is cruising along under full sails! I was asleep until 1300 today, waking up to the crew clapping hands. The spinnaker was successfully hoisted and is still flying. The crew were either very quiet, or I was sleeping hard—most likely the latter, as this was the first time many of the crew flew a spinnaker.
The wind has continued to drop throughout the day and is now down to 7-9 kts of true wind, sailing towards the Swedish coast at a comfortable 7 kts. The waves have laid down and we are floating on a magic carpet. We’ll see how long we can keep the spinnaker before the wind drops completely.
There has been a lot of traffic today. It started this morning with the Danish fishing fleet coming out towards us, and after that, plenty of ships, ferries, and more fishing boats to cross paths with. Not a single time have we had to change course though. We are about 8 nm off the Swedish coast now, aiming towards Smögen, hoping to get a space at the dock (very unlikely in the peak of the summer), or an anchorage nearby. We will then continue the passage, sailing along the coast down to Marstrand on Tuesday or Wednesday.
- Mia
mia@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.