January 23, 2025, 18:35 UTC | 18º 35.1’ N / 029º 35.6’ W | Shift 33 | Log 21
The Team
It’s the seventh day since we embarked on our voyage, with the simple stabilities and securities of land a distant memory. The sea is now our master, and the wind our courier. We battle to stand, concede to fall, and settle for the rhythmic rocking and rolling motion as Nordic FALKEN traverses the unending, undulating Atlantic Sea, carrying us towards land, liquor, and loved ones.
Yet, we no longer stand on shaky legs or see through weary eyes. We walk in strides, with the creases of smiles littering our eyes. Supporting each other, fighting for the whole, being a team, working our way home.
This casts me away into this log, setting my course not for the thoughts of home, but for the ones that sail with me today. For the ones I work with, sweat with, and fear with. The ones I’ll remember when I share our story of cunning, bravery, and a splattering of jovial humor.
Our skipper is Emily, a brave sailor with knowledge to rival the eldest of veterans. Yet, she isn’t doom and gloom, her way or the highway, but has enough charisma to make even Davy Jones chuckle with glee. Her first mate, Mia, continues this trend, bringing smiles aplenty, mirth of the merry, and stories—stories of heroism, endurance, and humor—passing the time as we dawdle away in mother nature.
This leads me to the youngest of the group, the apprentice, Vilgot, who shouldn’t be considered any less wise because of his age. For he too brings experience in bundles, stories in droves, and enthusiasm in spades.
Next on our list is us, the crew, divided into two teams: Team A and Team B. Team A holds Jillian the bold, who’s letting her dreams come true; Paolo the speedy, flying to master every task; Janette the brave, turning her fears into memories; and Kevin the conundrum, the American who can dream of more than a large house with a big garage.
The better team, my team, Team B, has Derick the jovial, a lawyer that can laugh the real laugh; Scott the cheerful, always smiling, no matter the challenge; Sarah the unexpected, a gentle voice with a history of mischief; and then there is me—the least experienced of the lot, but perhaps the one with the most ambition.
And that is us: the crew, the team, the family aboard NORDIC FALKEN, sailing across the Atlantic Ocean in 2025. Sharing stories, laughter, knowledge, and just having a cracker of a time.
B.P. Ryan
crew@59-north.com
View more passage logs
HMS Night Watch Party
Wing on wing worked well until the wind shifted then the helm became the cone of despair for our night watch crew of three (H, M and S) Alex made the decision to drop the pole, shifting wing on wing to a close reach. Wind increased to low teens and speed picked up to a flying pace. Day spent wandering toward Ensenada. Alex, Adam and David got us into port under another starry night.
No Kitemares Today
After a night marked by sudden wind accelerations peeling off Point Conception, and a vibrant, pulsating sky blistered with shooting stars, the off-watch woke to commotion on the foredeck. The wind had gone light and the swell had tapered just enough to raise the spinnaker. The sail filled with an urgent pop, the sheet strained and Falken charged down the face of the next wave. By mid-day, we doused the spinnaker and set our minds to the more precise task of safely punching through a gap in the notorious Cortez Bank. The border to Mexico looms ahead.
The California coast
We had a very lively first day of sailing with steady winds between 25 and 30 kn gusting to mid 30s. All of the crew got experience at difficult downwind helming as we covered 200 nautical miles in the first 24 hours. This morning brings winds in the teens and calmer seas. The sun is still shining, and the green monster has been slayed by those afflicted!