TUNA TUNA FISH
25º 59’ N, 114º 16’ W
2203 Ship’s Time
Sailing
I have been anti-fishing on these offshore trips since before 59º North started. Don’t get me wrong - philosophically I’m all for it. I love the idea of catching, killing, cleaning and eating your own food. I think the world should have more of that. But on a small boat at sea, it’s so damn messy! The last time I caught a fish at sea was 2013 on my dad’s boat SOJOURNER, coming back from the Bahamas and somewhere in the Gulf Stream. We caught and landed a small tuna, which I had fully planned to kill, clean and cook. But when I looked that fish in the eye, I just couldn’t bring myself to it. He was so pretty, and we had plenty of food onboard, and I thought he deserved to go back in the sea. And he did, and that’s the last time I fished.
Fast forward to FALKEN. Mary, one of our skippers who’s a big environmentalist, but also a big fisherman, has been advocating for fishing gear onboard. I relented and said fine, so long as it’s all cleaned up and adds to, rather than distracts from the core 59º North experience offshore. She sailed a bunch of passages in the Pacific last year, landed some fish and treated the crew to some fantastic fresh dinners at sea.
This is the first time Mary and I have sailed together (and I was relieved to learn that Mary and I share a fear of bananas on boats). My friend Ryan is also onboard, and he’s a big fisherman. 2 v. 1, Mary & Ryan versus me, so I was going to lose. Ryan brought a rod and a hand reel and we’ve been trolling since departing San Diego (and may have in fact caught something sooner if Ryan had remembered to remove the plastic safety sleeve covering the hook in his new lure).
Well anyway, about 0800 this morning, the reel made that telltale wild ziiiiiiiiiiiing sound and Kirk shouted “Fish on!” From the helm. I was cozied up in my bunk and not interested in getting up, but dammit if it wasn’t pretty exciting! Ryan fought this thing for the better part of 45 minutes before we spotted it near the surface, a nice sized tuna, not too big to deal with, but plenty big to feed the 11 of us and then some. At the same moment the wind died down, we furled the jib and just kinda drifted while the fish got closer to the boat. I have to admit that FALKEN is kind of the perfect fishing platform - the low transom and little basin where we normally take showers is perfect for gaffing, landing and cleaning a fish, keeping the mess out of the cockpit and easily washable with the hose on the stern. Mary snagged it with the gaff on the first try, and up came a 20-30 pound yellowfin. I went back to bed, and by the time I was awake again for watch, Mary & Ryan had killed, cleaned, stored and cleaned up the fishy mess on the aft deck. Maybe this fishing thing isn’t so bad after all!
It’s been remarkably calm this entire trip, and while we’ve now been sailing for nearly 48 hours straight, we’ve rarely been above 5-6 knots boat speed and haven’t yet seen a whitecap. Which makes for great cooking weather in the galley. Today took the cake. Mike was working on fresh bread that he started last night and let sit overnight; Ryan & Mary made ceviche with jalapeños, oranges, limes and pineapple for lunch, with another round of Ryan’s guacamole; and one of the other crew had made eggs again for breakfast. The ceviche and guac was devoured by a hungry crew for lunch in the cockpit with fresh tortilla chips, and Mike’s warm bread with thick slabs of butter served as a delightful afternoon snack.
But the main course came at dinner, when Ryan & Mary prepped a legit world-class tuna poke bowl, complete with sushi rice, cucumber salad, grated purple cabbage, homemade poke sauce, sriracha mayo and pickled ginger. LEGIT.
// Andy
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A last hurrah
Under the dome of stars in a moon-less sky, each of us during our time at the helm used the most rudimentary celestial navigation, keeping a star or two lined up with the mast as a helper to following the heading range. It was a whole crew event to set the spinnaker, reef the mainsail and practice the heave-to in case of man overboard. Alex stressed that the key to success in all of these crucial activities is preparation. It was hugely satisfying to accomplish these tasks through teamwork. We share a constant good hearted back and forth full of stories, one-liners and comebacks that also means constant laughter.
One little bird!
Falken has almost rounded the Channel Islands and is cruising along splendidly about 100 miles offshore. Though several models predicted some slightly fresher winds today, we were met with a consistent 18-20 kts of pure bliss. It seems that from the moment we left the dock in San Francisco, there has been much laughter and conversation amongst everyone. The plan is to gybe in a few hours and begin our approach to Ensenada. As much as I do appreciate the jokes and intellectual musings, I equally appreciate the natural, silent moments we share at night, all of us on watch gazing up above to the shooting stars, constellations, and planets putting on their quiet show.
Birds and glows
The sun brought new wind and we were soon putting up the Yankee (jib) and turning off the motor. During the evening tradition of sharing “glums and glows” that follows the crew dinner, our Mate Ryan proclaimed it a “champagne sailing” kind of day. As Alex noted this evening, life goes by so fast that one of the very best things about his line of work is enjoying the passage of time in the slow lane of an ocean passage. But by tomorrow, the green blobs in the weather sailing app indicate we’re going to pick up some significant northwesterly winds and we’ll take them ever further south to the Channel Islands latitude. We’re all super excited for the knots to climb and to see Falken really run.