We Did It!
1900 | Pasito Blanco
In Port
18 days and 3,271 nautical miles ago, nine strangers met up in sunny Simpson Bay, Sint Maarten. After that many days and miles and all the unique offshore-experiences we now share, it feels like we have known each other for a lifetime. A huge thank you all for making this passage a memory for life. I’ve had a blast! A special thanks goes to our super-apprentice Anton, and super-mate Delaney for always being so professional, proactive and fun! I will forever remember our lovely little rendezvous in the bilges cleaning diesel filters and manually transferring fuel between tanks.
The weather gods have indeed challenged us during this transatlantic crossing. As expected this passage started out with a few days of upwind sailing, but we had more open wind angles within reach. We just had to continue a bit further north. The more favorable winds (as opposed to our dead upwind) did however all the time move away from us with about the same speed as Adrienne’s. We really never caught up with them, so upwind upwind upwind it has been all along. At first a bit frustrating but after a while you understand that weather gods too need to have a bit of fun. We were of course an easy prey; the only sailboat to be found out on this vast ocean stubbornly sailing from west to east this time of the year. And in case we would forget about all this beating upwind once ashore, the gods topped it all off with a nice Gale right on the final stretch towards the Canaries. 30 knots of wind, gusting 40. The crew has indeed been put to the test.
We are now securely moored alongside here in Pasito Blanco, Gran Canaria. Conveniently just a few stumbles away from a nice little restaurant. Well, the only restaurant within any sort of walking distance. I believe we deserve a good meal there tonight!
Over and out,
❤️
Erik, Adrienne II Skipper
View more passage logs
”For some things, we will never be ready.” - Moana 2
After 852 miles of open ocean sailing, the crew of Falken dropped anchor in Moorea's Cook's Bay—not with a quiet glide in, but surfing down waves in a squall, breaking speed records and cheering each other on through the rain. What started as a plan to "just dip a toe" into offshore sailing turned into something harder to explain: the worse the conditions got, the more alive everyone felt. Turns out the question was never whether the crew was ready—it was whether they even needed to be.
Kauehi conundrum
Kauehi atoll was always on the itinerary—until the forecast made it a gamble not worth taking. Squalls, bommies, a tidal pass, and no clean escape route: sometimes the hardest call in sailing is the one that keeps you out of a place, not in it. The Tuamotus will have to wait.
Hove-to!
Falken is too fast—a problem most sailors would kill for, yet here we are, tacking back and forth across the Pacific just to kill time. A rogue low pressure system south of Tahiti has stolen the trades and scrambled our timing for the tidal window into Kauehi's pass, leaving us hove-to 45 miles short of our target in the Tuamotus. Salt licorice, dream sandwich debates, and a philosophical question about mermaid reproduction are helping pass the night.