The Penultimate Blog from Adrienne II

Finally - we’ve arrived at Gran Canaria! After 20 days, and 3000+ nautical miles, we’re back on land. The motley crew of Adrienne II, consisting of 7 happy amateurs supported by 3 professionals, have completed an epic journey many dream of but few realize.

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As each of us begins to think about what’s next in our work or personal lives, we are wondering about lasting impacts. So much of this trip has been about being present - with nature, with each other, with this boat. But that’s about to end as our trip enters the realm of memory, something embedded that may shape our perspective and how we carry on in the world.

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As we get ready to disembark, these are our thoughts.

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Chris - The Chicago Autohelm aka the Wolf of Squall st.

There are two things that I will always remember about this journey. First, that 10 people with different backgrounds and personalities, from all parts of the world could come together and work to make this trip a success. And have loads of fun while doing it. Second is that while part of this floating community, there was room for the solitude to work on oneself. Staring out at the expanse of sea and sky gave me pause to reflect and clear my mind. Thus allowing me to reconnect with what I value and is important in my life.

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Katy, the wild Texan.

Helming. I don’t think I’ll forget helming through a brief squall, all kinds of sea states, and crewing through “the big one”with Naxo at the helm. My bunk. I’m a nester. I will remember the spot where I slept and kept my things…so fondly and clearly. Navigating this boat. When we are heeled I can’t reach the handles. Crossing the saloon is a high risk event. I could fall on someone, trip into the water pump hole or onto a staff person catching sleep. Being together. The camaraderie across the whole boat. Playing games. Singing sea shanties. Watching the sunsets together. Relationships. I will remember most the relationships I was lucky enough to build with people on this boat and the willingness of some to be so vulnerable. I will forever be honored by their willingness to share and their trust in me.

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James. Canadian military discipline in a funny package.

My biggest takeaway from this Atlantic crossing is the Groundhog Day feeling. I helped manage the boat along our rhumb line. Everyone does a little to complete the ultimate goal of arrival in the Canaries.

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Tonya - the Swiss stargazing, salty-air loving redhead.

Every longer trip offshore makes me curious about two key aspects: First, how will this randomly assembled group of people overcome personal and technical challenges. And second, I get so eager to dive into the humbling expanse of wind and waves, and into the depth of our night sky. Both of the above have provided hours of wonder, learning, personal exchange and support as well as inner peace.

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Sailing through a thunderous storm in the doldrums was an unparalleled experience. Feeling the sheer intensity of latent energy in form of high humidity, water temperatures of 31°C and heat in the doldrums was avery impressive.

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I thoroughly enjoyed the evening routine of eating a tasty dinner together, watching the sunset, sharing jokes and anecdotes of the day. Dinner was then followed by the captain’s weather brief, glums and glows and singing of a shanty. Occasionally we added a sextant sighting of the Moon (what a stunning beauty!) and a creative writing session. What a delightful way of living in the moment!

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My thanks goes to Manot, Naxo and Anton for this safe passage and for their support and encouragement.

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Peter the Swede. Described as “mostly harmless”.

My biggest takeaway from this trip is the amazing crossing of the ITCZ (Inter Tropical Convergence Zone). This area, right off the equator, drives a large part of the weather patterns in both the northern and southern hemisphere. The heat, humidity and high water temperature creates a volatile area with everything from dead calms to violent electrical storms. Sailing through it at night, we would stare at all the stars with wonder, and 20 minutes later find ourselves in a tropical thunderstorm with strong winds and heavy rain. It’s also the first time I saw bioluminescence in the water - truly magical! A big thank you to everyone who helped make this possible! ❤️

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Katelyn - the zesty and a little unhinged West Coast wild child

The doldrums. Wild and wonderful experience. Mother Nature delivered. I love that we got such a unique crossing. Swimming in the middle of the freaking Atlantic. TWICE. First dip was basically a tropical bathtub. Second was a little more refreshing. The ocean’s endless personalities. Moonlit glitter one minute, chaotic seas the next. Earth was an absolute show-off. Being completely disconnected. No Google, no instant answers. Just curious minds, deep conversations, and the beautiful art of figuring things out together.

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Kif - American creative writing club treasurer and novice fish butcherer.

So many things big and small. Of course the sailing. Being one part of a focused crew executing coordinated maneuvers. Dialing in helming by compass, even in heavy weather. So many moments of awe and discovery. Groups of constellations wrapping us from side to side. Diving into the middle of the ocean and looking down into the electric blue of the depths. And most definitely the community we made. So much spontaneous culinary kindness (coffee, late night popcorn, brain freezing smoothies, out of nowhere miso soup!!). The giddiness of each crew “death” in our banger of a murder game. The warmth of a quiet conversation with new friends over morning coffee or evening tea. Overall, I hope to hold on to the absolute humbling vastness.

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There you have it! We all hope you’ve enjoyed the blog as much as we’ve enjoyed creating it. Let’s end with a huge thank you to our professional crew; Manot - the Swiss captain extraordinaire, Naxo - the laughing Spanish mate, and Anton - the huge Swedish viking apprentice. We couldn’t have done it without you!