We freakin’ made it. After almost three weeks at sea, we’re finally tied up in Sitka, Alaska, with a cold beer in hand and the boat finally at rest. It feels surreal to say the crossing from Hawaiʻi is behind us after anticipating the journey for so long. In the moment, the days felt long, and I came to the obvious realization that the Pacific Ocean is, in fact, really big 😂. Still, the days passed like the wind. The crossing was relatively mild and, although frustrating at points, filled with moments that reminded us why we were out there in the first place. Sailing in Hawaiʻi prepared us in ways we didn’t fully appreciate until we left. It’s where we’ve grown as sailors and people over the past decade, shaped by the islands’ generally unforgiving conditions. The sailing was rarely easy, and often pretty unfriendly, but it taught us how to stay sharp, adjust expectations, and how to accept when nature has the final say. We weren’t sure if Hawaiʻi was just a tough place to cruise or if we were still green to the ‘cruising life’, but it was probably both. Leaving was hard, but we knew it was time. The first few days offshore were rough. The trades were vindictive; it felt at times like the islands were trying to keep us from leaving. We beat into the wind straight out of the gate for nearly a week. The seas were big at first, then settled into a more manageable size, but still squarely on the beam, making things uncomfortably rolly and sleep scarce. Eventually, we broke free and found lighter air west of the North Pacific High. It felt like we were no longer fighting with the boat, but sailing with her. We exhaled for the first time in a week. The gennaker went up and we had a calm, steady run north for several days. It was such a relief after all the pounding and trimming and second-guessing. Then we hit the so-called westerlies. And of course, they weren’t westerlies. Once again, we were nose to the wind, slogging through more upwind sailing. A high-pressure ridge built in behind a cold front, flipping the winds from southwesterlies to northeasterlies and blowing us days off the rhumb line. The wind gods were absolutely not on our side. When we finally broke through, the real westerlies arrived, but they were light. Still, we managed one-and-a-half glorious days of fast and slightly chaotic downwind sailing. Big seas from a low pressure system rolled beneath us as we surfed along, finally moving the way should have been. Then, the wind faded again, and we made the call to motor-sail hard northeast to stay ahead of the next low lining up for the coast. In the final stretch, the wind hovered between 10 and 15 knots at 90 to 120 degrees apparent. We sailed when we could and motor-sailed when it dropped below 10 knots, just doing whatever it took to keep moving ~6 knots. This morning, around 20 nautical miles offshore, we spotted land (Mt. Edgecumbe, a dormant stratovolcano) for the first time. It was dark and distant beneath a heavy, grey sky, barely touched by the light of the rising sun. Ten miles later, we could smell it. Trees. Earth. Mulch? Something that wasn’t ocean (or our own stench 😭 seriously, no one warns you how BAD things smell after three weeks at sea lol). Humpback whales, otters, seals, bald eagles, and ravens greeted us as we entered Sitka Sound. We felt like we were in a National Geographic special. We dropped the sails and motored into our slip at Eliason Harbor around 8 AM local time. We spent the morning walking around town, picking up bear spray, and grabbing a local beer. Porter got a long, well-deserved walk. Everyone we’ve met has been kind and welcoming. Now we’re back on the boat, salty, stinky, and exhausted, slowly piecing together what comes next. First up is definitely a nap. Then, a shower and laundry. After, we’ll deep clean and start fixing the things that broke along the way. But for now, we’re just sitting still and reflecting. We crossed the Pacific. And it feels pretty damn good 🤍

Not my favorite sail. Started off with 25 kts on the nose and heavy rain out of Nāwiliwili. Big east swell. Tacks were disheartening and uncomfortable. Got great speed around Anahola. The downwind portion along the northern stretch sucked big time. Swell was on the beam and big. Happy to be back in Hanalei.

Squally sail from Hanalei to Nāwiliwili Harbor on the SE corner of Kauaʻi. Light upwind sail against an average E swell until Kapaʻa. We looked forward to the squalls to bring stronger winds, otherwise we had to motor sail. Caught ~18lb Kawakawa (mackerel) 🎣

We’ve been in Hanalei for almost two weeks, and have been spending some much needed time offline with our friends and each other, just enjoying life. We had a series of friends come to visit us consecutively, and the last few days have just been us, so it’s been a nice balance. We tracked this trip to the Nāpali Coast a few days ago, and it was incredible. The wind was on our stern, and as we turned around by Kalalau Valley, about 27 kts on our nose. Close to Hanalei we caught about a 10 lb omilu (bluefin trevally), and made fish tacos for dinner. This place is unreal. There are literally no words that can emulate the beauty of this place. It’s hard to say when the best time would be to visit here, however l would have to recommend late summer, as Hanalei Bay is probably like a bathtub and you’d have the best chance of anchoring on this coast during a spell of light trades and no swell, if you’re lucky. Just off of Kalalau is sand bottom, and you can swim or paddle to shore. The valley is closely tied to the indigenous Hawaiian communities and is one of the most, if not the most beautiful valley in all of the islands. The adjacent beach is called Honopu. It is kapu or “forbidden” to go to shore with anything but yourself; you must swim. The current rips along this coast making NE swells really stand up. It’s gusty, but manageable. I’m jealous of the powerboats zipping by us closer to the coast!!! Our good friend used to work on charter boats over here, and she said this coastline will chew you up and spit you out if you’re not careful, so we kept our distance from shore. She said there’s only about 20 days a year, if that, you’ll get decent conditions. Really, the best way to explore this island is by land. We’ll head over to Nāwiliwili tomorrow morning and perhaps rent a car for a day or two in final preparation before our Pacific crossing. AHH!

Explored Hanalei River with the dink. There was a big tree blocking the river around the entrance to the national wildlife refuge, so we turned around and got lunch in town instead.

Cruised over to Kāneʻohe Bay from town with our friend Morgan. Setting ourselves up for a more northern departure for Kauaʻi tomorrow morning! Late start leaving Ala Wai. I don’t think there’s a fuel dock on Kauaʻi, so we stopped at Kewalos one more time to fill the tanks. Beat upwind until the wind totally died around China Walls, so we motor sailed most of the rest of the way. Saw a few whales rounding Makapuʻu. Anchored at Secret Beach, made pesto pasta, and passed out 💤 It’s approximately 120 miles to Hanalei, should take us ~20hrs to cross the Kaʻieʻiewaho tomorrow AM.

Briefly back in the Ala Weird before we head off to Kauaʻi. The sail back from Molokaʻi was another fun downwind sail. Hand steered most of the way because our autopilots weren’t handling the conditions as well as we were. We weren’t able to experience a lot of bucket list places in Maui county, and Big Island certainly will remain in our rear view mirror. Upwind through the Alenuihāhā isn’t something we needed to put ourselves or Porter through, especially with the conditions we’ve been having the past few weeks. So, we reluctantly left Maui, found safe harbor (and sleep) on Molokaʻi, and returned to Oʻahu to say goodbye for real this time (and fix a couple things that broke, of course). Although we have the whole world to see, there’s something about Hawaiʻi that makes you forget there’s anywhere else to be. Maybe it’s the pace or the warmth, or the way even quiet moments feel full. Every departure feels like leaving a part of ourselves behind, even as we look ahead to the horizon. I know we’ll circle back someday, shaped by the miles in between.

We rarely get to sail downwind, so the sail from Kamalō to Lono was a fun one. 20 or so kts at 180 apparent and little waves. Wind got increasingly lighter as we sailed west, and would drop from 20 to nearly 0 at some points which wasn’t so fun. We love Hale O Lono, and have the whole place to ourselves. From the shells to the stars, the safe harbor and light winds, we’re happy campers after this past week of struggling in Maui. Lono feels like an old friend🫶