We Did It!
1900 | Pasito Blanco
In Port
We did it!! We have sailed across the North Atlantic and red pants can now legally be worn by the whole crew :)
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
24 hours of resilience
Thirty knots of wind, a 2.7-metre cross swell, and a crew being pushed to their limits — the first 24 hours aboard Falken have been anything but gentle. Seasickness has taken its toll, but the boat keeps moving, carving north toward calmer conditions. Last night, between the chaos, the Milky Way stretched clear across the sky.
Pre-departure
Hawaii to Alaska isn't a downwind romp—it's a chess match with the North Pacific High, and the opening move is never obvious. Ten days of refit work, new sails, engine services, and enough provisions to outlast a bad forecast have FALKEN ready for whatever the high decides to throw at us. The crew arrives in an hour, and by Thursday, the bow points north—route TBD.
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.
