4/9/25 - Logs, logs, logs. After continuous delays, we are well on our way to French Polynesia. Only one problem, though: the Gulf of Panama is notoriously littered with massive tree trunks, making navigation hazardous and focing us to sail cautiously, maintaining a low enough speed to minimize damage should we unwillingly run into one. Despite the aforementioned, it feels good to once and for all be on our way to beautiful Nuku Hiva, which I had the pleasure of visiting last April before a passage to Hawaii. As bittersweet as it is to leave a part of my heart back in Panama, it’s hard not to dream of finally sailing all that French Polynesia has to offer.

4/10/25 - Leaving Panama has proven more difficult than anticipated. With vicious currents reaching over three knots, it’s imperative to be in the right place to take advantage of it, and not in the wrong where it would disastrously impair forward progress. To add insult to injury, today has been a real battle with wind. Earlier today, we were blessed with a brisk beam reach, allowing us to sail a comfortable ten knots with full main and gennaker. Just one hour later, though, and the wind died beyond sailable conditions and the engine came back on to motor through the light ‘patch’. Unbeknownst to us at the time, the patch would grow around us, and the rest of the day has been spent slowly motoring towards the Galapagos. At least we have unlimited power, right?

4/11/25 - Finicky weather has proven difficult ever since leaving. What was originally a strong forecast pre-departure quickly waned as the weather routing predicted more and more time motoring to get to the Galapagos islands and into the southeast trades of the southern hemisphere. As we get south, we enter a zone called the doldrums, known for finicky wind as large high pressure systems permeate around the equator. As a result, like clockwork, we will have a couple hours of great, fast sailing, only to be met by several hours of motoring as the wind weakens beyond sailable conditions.

4/12/25 - Today was a beautiful day. Despite the extra heat, having sun shining through the sky onto Stardust and her crew does wonders after having mostly cloudy days since the day we left Panama. Being able to sleep in after a night watch ending at 6am, I got a late start fishing for what I hoped would be a sizeable yellowfin tuna like one of the dozens we sailed past jumping clear out of the water in a feeding frenzy. Not ten minutes later, and in classic fashion as I had just laid down to relax, the drag on the Shimano Tiagra reel screamed as something large decided to make the lure on the end of the line its lunch. I jerk up out of my seat and run to the transom of the boat just in time to see the boil of water and a large, curved dorsal fin disappear under the surface. “Marlin!” I shout. Despite no expectation of ever catching one, I knew that here in the north Pacific Ocean was the place to hook up. After a few minute run, it was time to finally reel in the hundreds of meters of line expelled. No small easy task, and an eternity later I finally caught a full view of the apex predator, before the sight of the boat compelled the beast to dive deep down in a renewed attempt at fleeing. More winching and five more similar dives later, and the 300-odd pound blue marlin was floating boatside, just calmly enough to pull the hook before the thrashing fish became free once more.

4/13/25 - Despite quickly closing in on the equator, we’ve been lucky enough to have over 24 hours of smooth, fast sailing. The aforementioned tricky conditions haven’t stopped us from averaging 24 miles more each day than the original forecast, meaning we’ll reach the Galapagos islands a full day earlier. Once south, we’ll be able to point straight for Nuku Hiva for about 17 more days of sailing, this time fast and easy.