17.03 BOAT TIME | 09° 01.1’ S 116° 55.1’ W
Sailing, Motoring, In-Port, Anchored, Whalewatching, Sing-A-Longing, etc.
We continue our passage to Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas Islands. We have been easily making 8 to 12 knot speeds and 200 nautical mile days. However, the wind speed has dropped which forces us to be more attentive to Falken’s sail trim and helming needs in what can occasionally be light and variable wind conditions and only 6 knot boat speeds. Although 6 to 8 knots may be what many of us plan for on our own sailboats, Falken has already spoiled us and teased us with exhilarating speeds over 17 knots. We trust the wind god Aeolus will deliver to speed us along.
Previous crew member blogs have referenced the song Southern Cross and how David Crosby romanticizes this classic downwind passage. However, recently we have chuckled at what hasn’t been mentioned and that is apparent wind speed (AWS). Although sailing downwind making 8 to 12 knots is beautiful, we are reminded of the fact that the apparent wind speed drops very low as we are moving with the wind ”square rigger” style. The result being, it’s hot 9 degrees south of the equator and the cooling windspeed is greatly reduced to apparent wind speed on this downwind passage! Regardless, the benefits far outweigh the heat as our ”wing on wing” sail configuration provides us evening dinner shade as we sail west into beautiful sunsets.
On night watches we continue to be impressed with the southern night time sky and stars the Ancient Greeks didn’t know existed below their horizon. There is no light pollution to spoil the view where we take Falken, our night sky views are nothing short of spectacular and much better than the Milky Way images we’ve seen in our science books. Each night the Southern Cross is the rock star as it transits it’s arc across the southern sky while continuing to point south.
We’ve got 65 feet of the waterline nicely making way!
Vince
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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.
A Gen Z Perspective
At 31, the crew thought they were reasonably fluent in the English language—then they met Kip. Today, the crew's self-appointed Gen Z correspondent takes over the log from somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, delivering dispatches on Milky Way night sails, focaccia-induced visions, and the singular mission of getting eleven people's "badonkadonks" to Hawaii. Consider this your glossary.