44°46.3’N, 148°45.1’W
02:45 UTC / 16:45 Boat Time
More thoughts from the neophyte…
A few nights ago as we concluded our evening updates, I remarked, “So what should we do tomorrow?” It garnered a laugh, but as soon as I said it I realized that this, for me, unexpectedly and concisely captured the essence of an undertaking such as this. Once everyone knows the tasks that need to be undertaken and the watches have been set, you repeat—day in and day out—until the passage is completed. Clearly, there’s no way that you can NOT know this when you sign on, but for me, when the reality settled in, it was still a revelation.
One more day you stand your watches. You do your assigned tasks. You sleep. You read. You stare at the horizon. You marvel at the remoteness of your position in the world.
When you’re fortunate, as we are, to have great companions, the conversation is interesting and entertaining, but by no means continuous. Even with six or more people in the cockpit, there can be long periods of silence.
The bottom line is that it takes a long time to cross two or three thousand miles of ocean, even in a fast boat like FALKEN. But it’s never been tedious, never been boring, and even as we’re still underway, I’m in awe of the immensity of the undertaking.
Ken T. | FALKEN Crew
PS. If you read this blog and your loved ones are onboard, please write a comment here and we’ll send them over to FALKEN! - Mia (shore support)
crew@59-north.com
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.