
17.03 BOAT TIME | 09° 01.1’ S 116° 55.1’ W
Sailing, Motoring, In-Port, Anchored, Whalewatching, Sing-A-Longing, etc.
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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”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.

