July 26, 2026
Wind: 4 knots
Swell: 0.5 m
Boat Speed: 6 ± knots
Weather: Blue skies
Sails: Main and mizzen up, motor sailing
Update on yesterday's mileage: 130 nms in 24 hours.
We tacked east! And so far, it's been a success. About an hour after changing course, the wind disappeared and the calm settled in. It was shortly after dinner, and it felt strange sailing away from the sunset after weeks of chasing it across the Pacific.
My first night watch began at 2200. The moon cast an exceptionally large, iridescent glow across the dark sea. The air was cooler and crisper, and the stars shone brilliantly overhead.
The conditions were calm enough to read, and the welcome feeling of not being tossed around the cabin was a luxury. When it was finally my turn to sleep, I slept soundly. There were no waves crashing over the bow or hard slaps against the hull—just the steady lull of the engine, as it looks like we'll be motor sailing for the next couple of days.
Yesterday I wondered when the deep blue of the Pacific would begin to change. For a while it looked as though it had, but today the water is brilliantly blue once again. We've been zigzagging a bit on our course, and I'm sure people watching our tracker will wonder what we're doing.
The reason? We keep spotting what look like glass fishing floats.
Yesterday we turned around to retrieve one, but the seas were still too rough and we couldn't find it again. Today we've already circled back twice, only to discover they were plastic containers instead.
I used to collect glass floats while working at Langara Fishing Lodge, especially if I had a day off after a storm. It was like an Easter egg hunt, with the ultimate prize being a beautiful hand-blown glass ball, often perched precariously on driftwood logs. After floating across the ocean for years, surviving countless storms, somehow they would wash ashore and come to rest on a remote beach in Haida Gwaii. Every one of them had a story, and that mystery always fascinated me.
So don't be surprised if you see us making a few more circles on the tracker today! I joked with Tess that at this rate we might not get home until September.
I blame Cosette from Hilltop House on Oahu. The magic of her home—and all the beautiful glass floats she has collected—has rekindled my excitement to find one again.
We had hoped to reach the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, but I'm beginning to wonder if it lies within this high-pressure system or the one much farther north. We are seeing more floating debris than at any other point on our expedition, but the dense accumulation that Mark and Dave Logan have witnessed may still be farther ahead.
The sun rose around 5:00 a.m., and we found ourselves motoring directly into it. What a strange reversal after sailing nearly 4,000 miles toward Hawaii with the setting sun guiding us west.
Tess is making breakfast, and Mark has the sextant out. I have a feeling I know what today's lesson will be.
As I sit in my floating office, I'm reminded how quickly we forget the uncomfortable moments at sea. It's hard to believe we're in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, surrounded by nothing but water in every direction.
I hope the weather cooperates and we can continue our journey to the northeast, with the sunrise guiding us home.
For now, I'll soak up every moment in this beautiful, extraordinary ecosystem we call the Pacific Ocean. These moments strengthen my resolve to share our collective call for One Island, One Ocean and I hope this journey has helped unite people behind one voice—one committed to protecting this incredible ocean that connects us all.