WILD Alaska!
54º 59’ 53 N, 131º 01’ 90 W
Hello from WILD Alaska! Our crew of 11 met at noon yesterday. With only 8 days to explore the rugged shores of our passage between Ketchikan and Victoria, we set off from the dock almost immediately after a quick safety briefing and orientation. It worked out well, because it only started raining once we had slipped! As one of the crew so aptly remarked, if you have to slip lines from the dock in the rain you might find yourself saying, “this is crazy, maybe we shouldn’t go.” Whereas, if it starts raining once you are underway, you just ask yourself, “are we crazy, but we might as well keep going…”
Unstopped by the rain, we then spent three hours gently motoring in no breeze while practicing winch work and learning how to make logs and use the nav equipment. It all worked out perfectly, honestly, and made for a nice change to do this without the squeaking fenders and the dock rubbing up our anxiety. It’s funny how that happens, isn’t it? That bit before leaving is always stressful—even if there isn’t much stress incoming. But once you set sail, even in no wind, the ‘to-do’ list dramatically falls off without a grocery store nearby or that last minute thing to get. All of a sudden, with less choice and less freedom, we in fact feel more relaxed and more… free! Ahhh, big breath.
The dream continued. We entered our idyllic anchorage about 8pm to humpbacks gently puffing into the dusk. We ate a delicious dinner. Everyone was asleep by 11pm. By 0530am this morning the hook was back up, and we are now headed to Prince Rupert to sign into Canada and start our adventure. Stay tuned! We are keeping our eyes out for a bear. Now that isn’t a phrase often used in a 59 North Offshore Sailing blog!
- Nikki | FALKEN Skipper
NikkiHenderson
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.