41°40'N 125°38'W
41°40'N 125°38'W | 13:30 Local time | 22nd of August
Day three of offshore sailing and we are all falling into the groove of watch, rest, nourishment. We are a small community of wildly brave women who are willing and able to cast off the lines of shore life and head into the unknown. Our varied and different lives are melding together to create cohesion and a vast wealth of experience and perspective. We all delight in the sightings of marine life, the liminal times of dawn and dusk, the phosphorescence, Dall’s porpoises shooting through the dark water creating a trail of effervescence.
Changing watch every four hours means we are interrupting our normal cycles, and it can be a struggle to get out of our cozy bunks in the wee hours of the night, but sailing to the constellation of Scorpio is an experience that makes us feel so alive! At this moment, we have sailed 545 miles south at 175 degrees and are currently crossing into the offshore waters beyond California. We are sailing wing and wing downwind, or as the French call it—“butterfly”—with fair winds and following seas that roll up to 10 feet. Waves always feel bigger when you are in them.
Tonight we will pass Cape Mendocino, the most westerly land point of our trip, and it represents my childhood home. This is quite the mermaid experience for me, as I know about the triple junction fault lines, including the San Andreas fault, and the deep sea trench below the surface of the water. I learned to surf with my dad and brother in these isolated waters, and my long goal was to never find myself offshore… and here I am, challenging myself to reach beyond my comfort zone and see the world with new eyes. I know my dad will feel me as I pass by. I love you, Dad and Vicky!
My dad’s family are the kind of adventurers who traveled across the continent in pioneer days to settle in the great Puget Sound of Washington, and over generations they migrated south to California. Beginning this trip in the Strait of Juan de Fuca reminds me of all my grandmothers who were brave and strong, whose DNA I carry now. On the other side, my mom’s family has California roots that reach deep, before California was a state or part of the US. I have a great-great-great-great-grandmother who arrived by herself in San Francisco on a boat to start a new life, and others who were there before the settlers arrived. Their strength and endurance in the face of adversity are in my bones.
We are all wanderers, all testing ourselves against the elements, against ourselves, to go beyond the mundane… beyond the trappings of shore life to come full circle to who we are in our depths.
- Hannah B.
FALKENCrew
View more passage logs
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.
Yankee Doodle Died at Sea, Riding on a FALKEN
A thin, foot-long tear in the yankee sail—50,000 miles of ocean behind it—and suddenly the final stretch to Hawaii just got a lot more interesting. The crew of FALKEN had been running a tight ship through the trades, reefing in squalls like clockwork, when the last dance finally caught up with them. How a skipper handles the moment everything goes sideways says everything about the voyage itself.
A Gen Z Perspective
At 31, the crew thought they were reasonably fluent in the English language—then they met Kip. Today, the crew's self-appointed Gen Z correspondent takes over the log from somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, delivering dispatches on Milky Way night sails, focaccia-induced visions, and the singular mission of getting eleven people's "badonkadonks" to Hawaii. Consider this your glossary.