The Pacific Ocean has an area greater than all the continents put together. This is the thought that comes to my mind as I careen down a particularly large set of angry waves and peer out towards the darkening windward horizon. I am apprehensively thinking of all the stormy nights to come, before I make it to the other side of the biggest ocean on our planet.

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Words & photographs by Maddy Bolt

This thought lingers for a moment and quickly is pushed away as I watch our wind gauges climb higher and higher with each passing moment. I make a silent prayer to myself for them to stop and continue to ignore the growing swell behind me. It was my first shift on my first ever open ocean crossing. Not to mention, my first time sailing at night. There are no flight paths going above our course, no other boats in sight and we are in 4,000 metres of inky, black, deep, water.

The passage from the Galapagos to the Marquesas is a classic blue-water sailing passage, often one of the calmest and most pleasant cruising legs you can take as a sailor with fair winds, few squalls and minimal swell. However, in our case, due to El Nino, we were experiencing the predicable unpredictability that comes along with this oscillating weather system. This unpredictability is caused by warming sea surface temperatures, leading to higher rates of atmospheric vertical instability, convection and thus, storms like the ones we were experiencing on our first night of the passage.

I was hired onto a beautiful Lagoon 42 sailing yacht by a Finnish family, who needed an extra hand for the crossing. With two younger children, their time with the kids would be prioritised and I would take the night shift from 12pm until 4am for the duration of the crossing. While most people might dread this work schedule, I was excited for the hours of peace and solitude under the stars. You can imagine my rude awakening on our first night when we entered into never-ending squall systems.

Despite this stormy first night, we eventually cruised into calmer seas and most of the night watches beyond that were exactly how I imagined; peaceful, reflective and full of stars. I learnt about the constellations, ate way too much chocolate and had hours of time to ruminate on the pros and cons of night sailing without any contact with the outside world. Sailing at night gives you the ability to elucidate your thoughts, slow down (most of the time) and connect with the ocean in a more meaningful way than in the day. Here is what I learned.

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