Day 4 and we are all now falling into the regular routine of life at sea - the times of our different watches, the writing up of the hourly log and the drinking of coffee. On this trip there has been a lot of coffee drinking. Everyone’s appetites have improved as we have found our sea legs and we all want it to carry on for longer.

We were hoping for another swim in the ocean as the wind died, but the swell is a bit too big so we opted for the second best, a warm shower on the aft deck. I will start cooking dinner in about two hours, we have been eating at 1730 to have dinner before the sun sets. It is getting warmer as we are heading south and I am in shorts and t-shirt for the first time since leaving Portugal. Life is good onboard :)

On a more personal note this trip has been brilliant, we left with plenty of time to get there and it has meant that we have been able to stop and enjoy the surroundings more often, trying to sail through the light winds instead of motoring through them and the chance to go for ocean swims which is always a highlight.

Throughout the morning we had a perfect sail, 6 knots in light airs and a gorgeous flat ocean. As the wind eased we hove to and went for an ocean swim and a hot water shower. Feeling refreshed we got underway again with a strengthening ESE wind and the dolphins arrived speed us on our way.

After our last passage in November, FALKEN has been on the hard in Portimao getting a few upgrades and some well deserved love after a busy 2023 season. Adam and Alex arrived on Tuesday night, Adam finishing some project on FALKEN and Alex will be our skipper for this leg. We splashed on Wednesday and motored over to the marina, no sails since they have been at the sailmaker getting looked over and cleaned.

I am writing this as the sun is slowly setting in Lagos. Falken has now been washed, scrubbed, emptied and re-stored following her post-passage checklist that we thoroughly follow. There is an aura of accomplishment, relive and just general awesomeness feeling onboard and not just for the successful trip that we’ve just ran but because this marks Falken’s first successful season in the Atlantic, sailing an astonishing 16.112nm.

We spent the day sailing under the chute, dousing it before dinnertime and getting all the lines and gear stowed for the night. It’s November, and while it’s nice and warm here off southern Portugal, the nights are long. It gets dark around 1730, and doesn’t get light again until around 0700, so the night watches are long. But the stargazing more than makes up for it. We passed around the binoculars last night, taking turns looking at Orion’s belt and the millions of stars in the background that you’d never seen ashore.

After breakfast Andy gave a magnificent weather lesson, it is so nice to see someone teach their passion to other people, it really is contagious!! After that everyone got briefed on their duties for their watches and we proceeded to hoist anchor and get out to the open sea for our offshore phase.

This morning we woke up on anchor just off the beach and cliffs in Sagres, usually the crew struggle to get a good night sleep the first night, new noises, a bit or nerves and new crew mates. Second night though, most crew sleep like a rock. Yesterday was the first morning for the crew onboard. Bob has sailed with us earlier this year, and James have already signed up for a trans-Atlantic with us in 2024…

Well, hope to sail anyway. Lagos is sitting smack in the middle of the end of a long axis of high-pressure, so there’s not much air moving around in the marina anyway. The ‘Azores' High’ is stretched out and has reached the coast here. Typically you see the high centered further west, and along the coast of Portugal tend to get northerlies, the ‘Portuguese Tradewinds’. Unlucky for us, we’re not in a typical pattern right now.

It’s hard to describe in words what this passage experience has been. Starting out in Horta, it was a whirlwind prepping the boat, having our safety brief, and prepping physically and mentally for ~1 week offshore. This being my first real ocean passage, I was not sure what I should expect, or how to feel as we finally cut the lines in Horta harbor and set out on port tack past Faial Island. It didn’t take long for the sea-state to make that decision for me, and myself and most of the crew succumbed to various intensities of motion sickness. I’ll spare the details here, but even through the dramamine induced haze of the first 12 hours, it was clear that we were sailing through one the most beautiful scenes I have witnessed.