The pool is open!
01.00 BOAT TIME | 09º 23.3’ S 134º 09.1’ W
Sailing
It’s 1.30 in the morning and FAKEN is gliding along at 7 kts under a sky ful of stars. The last few days, when the wind got lighter and the swell laid down a bit, we had the opportunity to hoist the spinnaker. Before we left Galapagos, we went around the room and asked what people were looking forward to and the big pink sail was high on the list, so it felt great when we finally could hoist it. We had it up all day Monday, and kept it up over night into Tuesday as the wind was set o be less than 10 kts of true. Mid day it was time to gybe, and the wind had eased even more, but before the gybe we opened up the pool. We stopped the boat, got the ladder down and put out a line with a fender behind the boat. I love swimming in the middle of the ocean, and a bit scary when you realize its more than 4000+ m deep! Love it!
Earlier in the morning, the when the wind finally died true and the spinnaker went limp, we took it down and had to motor for a couple of hours. Lucky enough the wind picked up by the afternoon and we could have another go at the spinnaker before it came down before dinner. We are now back wing-on-wing, with breeze up above 10 kts almost on course for Nuku Hiva! Less than 400 nm to go and we are enjoying the last few days onboard!
Mia
View more passage logs
24 hours of resilience
Thirty knots of wind, a 2.7-metre cross swell, and a crew being pushed to their limits — the first 24 hours aboard Falken have been anything but gentle. Seasickness has taken its toll, but the boat keeps moving, carving north toward calmer conditions. Last night, between the chaos, the Milky Way stretched clear across the sky.
Pre-departure
Hawaii to Alaska isn't a downwind romp—it's a chess match with the North Pacific High, and the opening move is never obvious. Ten days of refit work, new sails, engine services, and enough provisions to outlast a bad forecast have FALKEN ready for whatever the high decides to throw at us. The crew arrives in an hour, and by Thursday, the bow points north—route TBD.
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.
