
48º 38.8N 125º 09.6W
Sunday, August 10, 2025, 07:30 Local time | 48º 38.8N 125º 09.6W
It was 3 AM, blowing 30 knots, ink-black night before the moonrise. We were about 20 miles off Vancouver Island—a place visited by massive sunfish and rarely anyone else—surfing waves on 65’ FALKEN, hitting speeds of 14 and 15 knots. Regina leaned over and whispered, “From reading the 59 North brochure I wasn’t really sure if they would let ‘us’ sail in these conditions.” The ‘us’ she was referring to was the collective group of sailors huddled in the spray who had never been on a boat this large, going this fast, in conditions this heavy. It was a lot to process.
“Regina, your turn!” Nikki beckoned. It was the moment of truth. About 15 minutes later, Regina had hit a high speed of 14.6! The crew cheered, and there was a collective awe—we were experiencing something very few people ever get to witness. It. Was. Incredible.
Later that night, under a blazing moon, Nikki and Topher both hit 16.2 knots, flying down the breaking swells, hooting with glee. Exhausted from the adrenaline rush and lack of sleep, I crawled into my bunk, knowing that there was no way I would be able to process this experience for days, weeks, or even months. I simply went to sleep with the hunch that this experience had changed the course of history—for all of ‘us’.
- Andy | FALKEN Crew
It was 3 AM, blowing 30 knots, ink-black night before the moonrise. We were about 20 miles off Vancouver Island—a place visited by massive sunfish and rarely anyone else—surfing waves on 65’ FALKEN, hitting speeds of 14 and 15 knots. Regina leaned over and whispered, “From reading the 59 North brochure I wasn’t really sure if they would let ‘us’ sail in these conditions.” The ‘us’ she was referring to was the collective group of sailors huddled in the spray who had never been on a boat this large, going this fast, in conditions this heavy. It was a lot to process.
“Regina, your turn!” Nikki beckoned. It was the moment of truth. About 15 minutes later, Regina had hit a high speed of 14.6! The crew cheered, and there was a collective awe—we were experiencing something very few people ever get to witness. It. Was. Incredible.
Later that night, under a blazing moon, Nikki and Topher both hit 16.2 knots, flying down the breaking swells, hooting with glee. Exhausted from the adrenaline rush and lack of sleep, I crawled into my bunk, knowing that there was no way I would be able to process this experience for days, weeks, or even months. I simply went to sleep with the hunch that this experience had changed the course of history—for all of ‘us’.
- Andy | FALKEN Crew
FALKENCrew
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The sun sets on another journey
The hardest part of sailing across French Polynesia wasn't the night watches, the heat, or the open ocean — it was the prospect of being trapped on a small boat with a group of strangers. First-timer Natalie boards as a self-described land crab and discovers that the sea has a way of reshaping both your sea legs and your assumptions. What follows is dolphins, sharks, the Milky Way in full technicolour, and a crew that somehow made the whole thing better than she ever imagined.
