Background: How our Next House became a Boat:
It sounded like a good idea at the time... We’ll
have an adventure! We’re up for that! I just have to give up teaching yoga and close our in-home studio, help decide what we’re going to do with house and get the boat ready. We can do it; it won’t take us
that long! After all, we’re the ‘get-it-done’ kind of people.
Last year, we lived aboard our sailboat, Tuamotu, three months while circumnavigating Vancouver Island. When we returned, we’d hoped to head down the Pacific Coast late September but a tired mainsail, heater and batteries delayed us. In short, we lost the weather window enabling us to safely travel down the Washington/Oregon coast.
Last year, we lived aboard our sailboat, Tuamotu, three months while circumnavigating Vancouver Island. When we returned, we’d hoped to head down the Pacific Coast late September but a tired mainsail, heater and batteries delayed us. In short, we lost the weather window enabling us to safely travel down the Washington/Oregon coast.
Settling back into our home was
comfortable. I taught yoga, we saw
friends and family, did some hiking, traveling and generally enjoyed our
land-based lives. Around March, 2016, we started thinking about how we were going to spend the summer. Ian wanted to take another extended boat
trip, and wasn't so sure. Being at home felt good! Being comfortable felt good! It was great to go hiking, do some yoga and
see friends. But, comfortable can
become a trap. Neither of us was ready
to get too comfortable while there were more places to see and adventures awaiting us.
The last weekend in April, we took the
boat over to Port Madison, a favorite anchorage on Bainbridge
Island. Sitting in the cockpit, enjoying
a cup of coffee in the sunshine, Ian brought up the idea of a summer sailing trip, including returning to Barkley Sound on Vancouver Island.
His
tone was more urgent. Summer was fast
approaching, and a couple of friends had reached out to us asking if we’d like
to go North toward Alaska or maybe do part of Vancouver Island again. It was then we hatched the plan to live on
the boat for at least a year and instead head South to San Diego or maybe Mexico.
Ian kayaking in Port Madison |
From our Vancouver Island trip,
we’d gained both confidence and knowledge, discovering we didn’t need so
much STUFF. We lived pretty comfortably in about 350 square feet. Not insignificantly, we also discovered that we
could be together 24/7 for extended periods of time without harboring homicidal
or suicidal thoughts towards ourselves or each other. In fact, after 28
years, we still kind of liked hanging out together.
Putting our plan into action when we returned, our biggest decision was what to do with the house we'd lived in for seventeen years. The Seattle
housing market has been very good. We were
afraid that if we sold it, we wouldn’t be able to easily buy back in should we want to do so at a later date. The decision then was to lease it. For me, it was also a safety
net. I didn't have to give up HOME, but create a second one on the boat. Our daughter Renee said, “Mom, if
you try to do all this AND sell the house, I’m afraid you’ll have a nervous
breakdown and I’ll be coming to Seattle to have you committed.” Good advice; I listened.
So.... We started
going through all the stuff we’ve accumulated.
We sold some stuff (EBay and Craigslist), gave away lots of stuff, took
stuff to the dump, bought some other stuff and found a place to store our
stuff. (Do you hear a trend here?)
Meanwhile, Ian who
was getting the boat ready sold some boat stuff, gave away some boat stuff and bought new boat stuff. We replaced four 100-amp
batteries with six GSM 125-amp batteries. To faster
charge the new battery bank, we bought a 165-amp alternator with a
serpentine belt.
We bought four 100-watt
solar panels, a BlueSky MMPT solar booster controller, a new Xantrex amp meter and added AIS software, enabling us to transmit and receive other boats' locations. Ian did all the installation work, enabling us to add those saved dollars to our sailing budget. Finally, we replaced a 93-pound
Switlik life raft with a 38-pound Winslow.
We reached out
to some friends who had made the trip down the coast to La Paz, Mexico with
their Island Packet SP-Cruiser a couple years ago. Amazingly, Brad was willing to go to San
Francisco with us and his wife, Gay supported his
“Go!” decision. She planned on doing lots of hiking while he
was gone. They would be heading back to La Paz mid-October.
Four 100-Watt Solar Panels |
How long did it take us to do that
stuff? About three months. We were busy almost every day only taking
time off for a three-week visit from our daughter and grandchildren from California. It was a great time and nice respite. The grands had a way of reminding us to have fun and pay attention to what’s going on right now.
Ice Cream at Boehm's
Chocolates, Issaquah, WA
|
After they left, we got crazy busy, finalizing the lease on the home, moving out of the house (whew!) and moving onto the boat July 21st.
There were still lots of chores to get done but the departure date was set for
Sunday, July 31st; we’d sublet our slip at Shilshole Bay Marina as of August 1.
In considering what it took to get all that stuff done in three months, it could only have happened because (a) We were both ready to make a change; (b) We trusted ourselves and each other; (c) We're willing to take things as they come; and (d) Know how precious time is. We’re healthy, love to travel and want to see more of this world.
The Adventure:
Sunday, July 31: The weather report was good! We'd fueled up the day before and topped off the water. All the stuff we'd moved from home miraculously found a place in either the refrigerator or one of the storage lockers underneath or behind the seats. We were determined to make everything fit. The second birth is ready for Brad who was crewing to San Francisco with us. Gay dropped
him off around 11:00 a.m. He doesn’t have
much stuff with him and easily gets settled in.
Shilshole Bay Marina, Seattle, WA |
Having only traveled as a couple, having a third person aboard is a new experience for us as was crew selection. We knew we wanted someone who'd done the Washington and Oregon coast before, had some significant sailing experience and was easy going. Brad fit that profile well and was up for doing the trip again. We felt good having him aboard.
As we left Shilshole around 11:30 a.m., we knew we wouldn't be getting any help from the current; in fact, it would be pushing against us most of the way to Port Townsend, our destination.
It’s a nice day but not enough wind
to sail. We raise the mainsail to add some stability, and are happy to be away from the dock. It’s the beginning of our Pacific Coast Quest and all
we’ve been working toward the last several months. We don’t see much marine life, cargo ships coming in or cruise ships going out. There’s little traffic out here. We monitor Channel 16, for Coast Guard weather reports; that too is quiet. A peaceful beginning.
Brad takes the
helm to become familiar with the boat. We continue motor sailing as talk
continues around weather in Neah Bay and "turning the corner" to head south. Will we have to wait, or
will it be clear to go?
Ian's put together our sail plan, estimating where we'll be on each day. Right now, we're scheduled for three 24-hour rotations which will begin at Cape Flattery. While we’ve done lots of sailing and some of that at night, Ian and I have never done 24-hour rotations. The rotation plan is all of us to share daytime duty, Ian take the helm from 9:00 p.m. - 1:00 a.m., Brad take 1:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. and Ian relieve him at 5:00. I'll take early morning then to relieve Ian and most of the afternoon so they can sleep.
Ian's put together our sail plan, estimating where we'll be on each day. Right now, we're scheduled for three 24-hour rotations which will begin at Cape Flattery. While we’ve done lots of sailing and some of that at night, Ian and I have never done 24-hour rotations. The rotation plan is all of us to share daytime duty, Ian take the helm from 9:00 p.m. - 1:00 a.m., Brad take 1:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. and Ian relieve him at 5:00. I'll take early morning then to relieve Ian and most of the afternoon so they can sleep.
Port Townsend is about 30 nautical miles (n.m.) from Shilshole Marina in Seattle.
At six, knots, it’s about a five-hour trip. It’s an easy start in waters that are very
familiar. Before long, we’re turning the
corner at the Point Wilson lighthouse, watching the water become rippley as the
currents flow in opposite directions.
The tide is beginning to change.
The wind has come up and we see boats sailing the inland harbor
near Port Townsend. A few boats
anchored near the north end of the bay near Point Hudson Marina.
We work our way
inland to anchor out tonight. We want to get close enough to
shore take the dinghy in, go for a walk and check out what's happening in town. The wind is
blowing between 10 – 15 kts., making it more challenging to drop and set the
anchor. I’m at the helm; Ian goes
forward. We’re all watching how close other boats are, making sure we stay out of their way. We give ourselves
enough space to turn around, knowing the wind will change directions through
the night. We're in about 27' of water. I wait for Ian to begin dropping the anchor, then back down the boat somewhat aggressively to set the anchor feeling a slight tug as the boat gently arcs to port.
Point Hudson Marina, Port Townsend, WA |
Tuamotu at anchor, Port Townsend, WA |
After a quick dinner, Ian inflates
our dinghy on board the front of the boat and we go ashore. As we walk
around, downtown Port Townsend is quiet.... very quiet. Traditionally July and August are the months people are heading north to the San Juan, Gulf Islands or points beyond. Port Townsend is a good launch
point before crossing the Straight of Juan de Fuca.
Port Townsend Bay |
After walking about an hour, we find a restaurant where we can overlook the bay and enjoy a leisurely
glass of wine or of beer. There are
more people here, eating dinner, enjoying the water view and waiting
for sunset.
A few more boats have come in,
anchoring near where we are. Everyone is playing nice and there aren’t any
problems with boats crossing each other's anchor. The wind has stayed constant
at around 12 – 15 knots but it’s beginning to cool down. Finishing our drinks, we walk down to the
dinghy dock, and row back to the boat.
Safe on board, we go below where we send texts to family and friends letting them know where we are. Many have been following us on www.marinetraffic.com, a website that
anyone can find the position of a boat by entering its name (Tuamotu, for
us).
I still can’t believe we’re here
and have completed our first day. I
loved reading The Hobbit as a teen and the idea of Bilbo Baggins heading out on an adventure with his friends comes to
mind. While we’re not on a quest to
save the Inner Realm, it feels like we’re off to a good start. While there could be a mythical “Gollum” in
our future, there’s also “Gandalf,” ready to help us. I’m happy to be away from the clutter
and STUFF... Happy to be at anchor enjoying the gentle rocking motion of the
boat and the NOW-ness of the moment.
Monday, August 1:
We woke
to a very foggy morning in Port Townsend.
After a quick breakfast of oatmeal, we and got underway at a lazy 9:00
a.m. We’re headed to Port Angeles today
about 35 miles away. We’ve got radar and AIS on board which will alert us of any vessels within a set target range. It also transmits our location. We can see boats as far as
67 miles away. Radar will show us
smaller vessels if they have a radar reflector.
For crab pots, small fishing boats,
kayakers and everything else, we rely on our automated fog horn which sounds at regular intervals. We’ll travel slow. The tide
will be against us until around 5:30 p.m. this evening. Luckily, however, the wind and the current are going the same way so
we’re not beating to weather – a very uncomfortable way to travel. There is about 15 kts. of wind and we’ve put up the mainsail for
stability.
As we
motor sail northwest following the coastline, we see few vessels of any size
around us. The fog is socked in like a
thick, billowing blanket. We can’t see the Olympic Mountains and only a few
boat lengths in front of us. It’s around 55 degrees: cold for
August 1 even in the Northwest. The fog is going to stay with us for a while; the wind continues to build.
I’ve been at helm about an hour
now and see the wind speed has jumped to 38.6 knots! Can that be right? It doesn’t feel that strong and the
water isn’t showing significant whitecaps.
I let Ian and Brad know and all of us wonder if the new wind vane
isn’t calibrated correctly. While it’s
“frisky” wind, it’s not gale-force. We
take the mainsail in about half as a precaution and the boat flattens out a
bit.
Our boat speed says 6 kts. but
the current is really slowing us down. Our speed over ground (SOG) – how fast the boat is really moving – is only 3.5
kts. It's taking forever to
make much progress. For the past hour,
each time I check our Port Angeles ETA,
it’s consistently said 2 ½ hours. The harder the wind blows, the further behind we get. What should have been a six-hour trip turns into eight hours. We arrive around 5:00 p.m. at Boat Haven Marina in Port Angeles. We're taking a slip because the weather forecast for tonight is 30-plus knots of wind.
Boat Pizza |
We didn’t take time for lunch today and are feeling pretty hungry. I've made pizza and when it's ready, we appreciate not having to eat balancing a plate while water dances around the boat. Later,
we stretch our legs walking the mile and a half from the marina to town. There's a concrete sidewalk along the waterfront with statues and other artwork making it attractive. It leads us to a tall three-story tower where we take some pictures. The wind continues to blow and it's chilly. After about an hour of exploring, we head back to the boat.
Tomorrow’s weather report says 20 - 25 knot wind in the morning building to 30+ knots in the afternoon. Our boat sails well in 15 - 25 kts. We'll plan to leave early tomorrow morning, avoiding the stronger afternoon forecasted wind. Once at Neah Bay, we’ll wait for a weather window that has wind from the Northwest so the wind and waves are moving in the same direction for three to five days. None of us wants to beat to weather; it's rough, tiring and no fun. There's no need to rush. We've built weather days into our sail plan and we're all committed to a safe trip.
Tomorrow’s weather report says 20 - 25 knot wind in the morning building to 30+ knots in the afternoon. Our boat sails well in 15 - 25 kts. We'll plan to leave early tomorrow morning, avoiding the stronger afternoon forecasted wind. Once at Neah Bay, we’ll wait for a weather window that has wind from the Northwest so the wind and waves are moving in the same direction for three to five days. None of us wants to beat to weather; it's rough, tiring and no fun. There's no need to rush. We've built weather days into our sail plan and we're all committed to a safe trip.
Tuesday, August 2:
We leave around 8:15 a.m. this morning in sun with no fog after a simple breakfast of oatmeal. I was at the helm as we left the dock while Brad and Ian detached our lines from the dock. Not long after exiting the marina, we're met with that promised wind and our speed over ground jumps to 8.9 kts. Our boat's speed was only about 3.7, so we're getting significant push from the outflowing current.
Departing Port Angeles, WA |
The
scenery along the coastline was majestic. The blue skies, mountains, trees and water create a beautiful
backdrop as we travel north. We don't know if the front moving is going to cause us a delay, but we're hoping for only a single night problems resulting in more than a day at our next stopping
point, but we were hoping we were hoping for a single night at Neah Bay.
I give up
the helm to Brad and go below to make split pea soup and cornbread for dinner. It's cold enough outside that a hearty soup will not only tasted good, but be easy to eat.
It's turned out to be a comfortable trip today. The 30+ kts. winds didn’t develop and we motor sailed most of the way, keeping our main- and staysail both at 100%. We arrived at Neah Bay around 5:15 p.m. and immediately head for what we think is the fuel dock. No one's here, so Ian call on our VHF radio for assistance. Someone answers back that this fuel station is closed and gives us directions to a private fuel dock. Arriving there, we ask someone on shore if we're at the right place land they tell us the only fuel dock operating is the Makah Tribe's dock where we were originally at. We call a second time and someone from the Tribe's dock comes to unlock the fuel tank. We pal $2.01 per gallon for diesel - the cheapest we've seen in a long time. We're happy they were passing along the tribal gas tax benefit to us.
It's turned out to be a comfortable trip today. The 30+ kts. winds didn’t develop and we motor sailed most of the way, keeping our main- and staysail both at 100%. We arrived at Neah Bay around 5:15 p.m. and immediately head for what we think is the fuel dock. No one's here, so Ian call on our VHF radio for assistance. Someone answers back that this fuel station is closed and gives us directions to a private fuel dock. Arriving there, we ask someone on shore if we're at the right place land they tell us the only fuel dock operating is the Makah Tribe's dock where we were originally at. We call a second time and someone from the Tribe's dock comes to unlock the fuel tank. We pal $2.01 per gallon for diesel - the cheapest we've seen in a long time. We're happy they were passing along the tribal gas tax benefit to us.
Neah Bay, WA |
Neah Bay
is home to the Makah Tribe. There’s
little here. Ian mistakenly says to the Harbormaster, "This really is the end of the world, isn't it?" The woman replies, "We like to think of it as the beginning of the world." It's all about perspective, isn't it. Perhaps she's right. They marina staff handles the fuel dock, slip assignments, a small retail store and restaurant. They're kept busy in the summer months. Before going to bed, we enjoy a hot shower.
Before going to bed, Ian and
Brad compare weather reports from the four to six weather sites they monitor. They conclude we're going to
have winds from the northwest at 15 - 25 kts. for the next three or four days. It's the consistent weather window we're looking for. We're excited and a bit surprised we don't have to wait as we'd mentally expected. We'll be turning the corner' and rounding Cape Flattery tomorrow morning! It's going to be a big day and the beginning of our trip into new waters.
Wednesday, August 3:
Remember how I said we were happy
to be away from the fishing boats running their generators through the
night? Well, we didn’t escape that all together. The tidy looking boat next
to us turned out to be a fishing boat.
The captain turned on his engines around 4:00 a.m. and let the and
let the boat idle for the next 45 minutes while he went through his morning
routine. The crew joined he around 5:30 when they finally pulled out of their slip. Ugh.... We’d wanted an early start, but hoped for
something closer to 7:00 a.m.
Rising, I remember today's my sister's birthday. I started
some coffee while Ian and Brad once again check the weather. With coffee mugs in hand, we walk ashore
searching for an errant cell phone signal at the top of the dock. I have three bars and call her, leaving a "Happy Birthday" wish, sharing our location and plans for the next few days.
Returning to the boat, the fog starts rolling in
and there's a light breeze. Conditions still look favorable: northwest winds between 20 - 25 kts., gusting to a possible 30 kts. We're comfortable with it, knowing we'll continue motor sailing so we can travel quickly and safely.
Pulling out of our slip into calm
waters we began our trek toward Cape Flattery about an hour away. Not far in mileage, but mentally and
emotionally a big leap and commitment.
We turn the corner around 10:30, taking some pictures and bearing grateful smiles. The current is mixed here, creating churing, confused water. It stays that way for the next hour or so.
Ian has found some possible
turn-in points if we need to head to a inland because the weather worsens. Realistically, Grey’s Harbor is our safest bet. Many of the
harbors along the Washington and Oregon coast have significant sandbars, narrow
entryways, rocks and other navigational hazards that could be more dangerous
than the wind and weather at sea.
"Turning the Corner," Cape Flatttery, WA |
We'd debated how far from shore we
wanted to travel, finding water and wind most favorable for
us and our sailing experience. Water
depths of 500’ or more provide a smoother ride so we headed out finding it at 15 then 20 miles from shore. The coast fades as hazy conditions made it difficult to see. The ocean swells are initially from
the west and the wind from the northwest at 15 – 20 kts. Our heading was virtually 180 degrees (South)
so we had some breaking water behind. Our SOG varies between 6.2 –
7.5 kts. A nice speed and pretty comfortable ride. A good start for our
journey southbound.
We’re sharing the helm during the
day. Tonight will be our first 24-hour rotation. As we've planned Ian will take the 9 p.m. - 1:00 a.m. shift, Brad from 1:00 a.m. to
5:00 a.m. Ian will relieve him early morning, with me taking late morning and afternoon so they can sleep.
Ian and I have never suffered from seasickness but I’d never slept on our board overnight while we're underway. I’d ordered some motion sickness herbal patches before leaving and had lots of ginger for calming nausea on board. For safety sake, I'd put one on that morning. I stayed with Ian during his shift until around 11:00 p.m. and then ventured below to bed. I'd made some lee cloths
for the berths in the main salon, but instead chose to go to our forward berth. The seas were pretty rocky and while I didn't feel ill, I didn't get much sleep. I was glad when Ian came to bed, acting as a human lee cloth. My thoughts and/or dreams were irrational: “What would happen if a whale hit our boat right now?” We'd seen what we thought was a small
humpback whale shortly after round Cape Flattery. If there’s one, there are probably more,
right?
Ian and I have never suffered from seasickness but I’d never slept on our board overnight while we're underway. I’d ordered some motion sickness herbal patches before leaving and had lots of ginger for calming nausea on board. For safety sake, I'd put one on that morning. I stayed with Ian during his shift until around 11:00 p.m. and then ventured below to bed. I'd made some lee cloths
Lee Cloths for feisty seas |
Luckily, whales were uninterested in our boat and we were able to get a couple of
hours sleep. All was well.
We’d survived our first overnight at sea.
Thursday, August 4:
As I got up to make coffee and breakfast, I looked topside to see some
pretty big waves – at least 7’ – 9’. It was still foggy and the foghorn was still sounding. The
wind was strong and had continued building through the night. We had a light breakfast; no one was really hungry as we all were watching what was happening as we sat in the cockpit. We all wear inflatable life jackets but chose not to 'clip in' to the lifelines we'd put in the cockpit. I didn't feel any fear, just keen interest in what I was seeing and not seeing. When it was my turn at the helm later that morning, I saw that we were now about 25 miles off the coast in water a couple thousand feet deep. We’d found the natural oceanic current and continued moving at over 7
kts. SOG. This was turning into a fast trip!
Our original sail plan called for us doing two night back-to-back rotations but because the wind kept building and the forecast called for it to get stronger, talk now changed to finding a stopover point that day. Newport, Oregon, looked the safest. While there was a bar, it was maintained and sounded manageable.
Mid-afternoon we discovered we couldn’t flush the toilet in the head. Using a bucket for a couple days just wasn’t an acceptable option. Undaunted by the fast trip and sea conditions, Ian tore into it, finding two of the hoses blocked. He turned on our inverter to use a drill to cut a hole in the floor underneath the toilet and use his on board jigsaw to cut a hole in the bottom of the vanity revealing the circuitous installed hoses.
Brad and I shared the helm as Ian spent most of the afternoon literally rolling from one side of the floor to the other as we bounced through the waves. Yes, Newport was going to be our next port of call. We needed about fifteen feet of 2 ½” sanitation hose to fix the head and keep the cook, crew and captain happy.
Mid-afternoon we discovered we couldn’t flush the toilet in the head. Using a bucket for a couple days just wasn’t an acceptable option. Undaunted by the fast trip and sea conditions, Ian tore into it, finding two of the hoses blocked. He turned on our inverter to use a drill to cut a hole in the floor underneath the toilet and use his on board jigsaw to cut a hole in the bottom of the vanity revealing the circuitous installed hoses.
Brad and I shared the helm as Ian spent most of the afternoon literally rolling from one side of the floor to the other as we bounced through the waves. Yes, Newport was going to be our next port of call. We needed about fifteen feet of 2 ½” sanitation hose to fix the head and keep the cook, crew and captain happy.
Riding the 6' - 8' waves to Newport, Oregon |
It was a crazy fast ride to
Newport. We were happy to have AIS tracking the many fishing vessels
and a couple of large cargo ships. There
were few sailing boats of our size in these waters. At about 7:00 p.m., Ian took over the helm noting
the foggy conditions and choppy waters we’d been experiencing. He said he was amazed he’d been able to work
below given the conditions he was seeing.
The power of adrenalin and concentration kept him focused on the job at hand.
From our electronic chart and written reference book, we knew there were two breakwaters
on either side of the channel into Newport.
As we made the turn committing to entry, there was a big fishing boat
coming out on the same course we were on coming in.
Ian got on the VHF radio and spoke with the captain of the other boat asking him his course. He acknowledged us and said he’d give us room. We thanked him and continued inbound. About ten minutes later,, we realized Perseverance, the vessel we’d previously called, was mid-line in the channel. He was preserving all right, and we were potentially on a collision course. Again, Ian called the captain who immediately apologized and said he’d pass us port-to-port and moved aside. Generally, commercial vessels have right-of-way, but because of the jetties on our right side, we could not correct our position.
Ian got on the VHF radio and spoke with the captain of the other boat asking him his course. He acknowledged us and said he’d give us room. We thanked him and continued inbound. About ten minutes later,, we realized Perseverance, the vessel we’d previously called, was mid-line in the channel. He was preserving all right, and we were potentially on a collision course. Again, Ian called the captain who immediately apologized and said he’d pass us port-to-port and moved aside. Generally, commercial vessels have right-of-way, but because of the jetties on our right side, we could not correct our position.
Finally, we saw his bow lights. He passed on our left side and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Thinking the worst was behind us and that we only needed to follow the channel markers inward, the wind then gusted to 35 kts. Brad spotted another fishing boat coming our way on AIS and called the captain so Ian could concentrate on what he was doing. The captain, like the former, said he'd pass port to port. Meanwhile, we saw and dodged a couple of
crab pots, finally spotting an unlit red channel marker. This was like being in an interactive video
game with the boat and us as the target! It was far
more nerve-wrecking than the previous night!
A few minutes later, the second fishing
boat passed us as indicated. The deep fog lifted and we got our first siting of the marina. We had our slip assignment on J-Dock, opposite the fuel station, slip
number eight, port tie. It was windy and
cold as Brad and I tied the fenders on the boat and secured the bow, mid- and
stern-lines readying ourselves to tie up at the dock.
The wind calmed from the earlier 35+ gust but was consistent at 20 kts. as we
searched for the illusive slip. It was almost 8:30 now and after a long day and nightmarish trip to the marina we were happy to be secured at the dock. We’d had some sandwiches and fruit earlier in
the day. Suffering from the lack on a
toilet on board, we raced for the nearest ones, and more comfortably returned
to the boat. Tired and a bit dazed, with not much appetite, we ate a
light snack and headed for bed. Tomorrow
was “fix it" and provisioning day.
Friday, August 5:
To Ian's inquiry came the response, “No, we
don’t carry it in stock. We can order it
for you and have it here by Tuesday of next week!”
Not the
answer we wanted to hear. The bucket
would have to be put to use and we’d be in Newport four or five extra days.
We called
a second store and received the same answer.
Ian asked somewhat ratorically, “Doesn’t anyone ever have to replace hoses on their
heads in this town?” We joked that fishermen probably used that bucket on board or....
Ian made
a third call to Schiewe Marine Supply and was put on hold while the parts
person checked inventory. Meanwhile,
Brad searched Amazon and found that if we ordered in the next three hours,
we’d have the hose we needed the next day.
Good ol’ Amazon! No wonder their
revenues and online business continues to thrive! We would be happy to pay the $14.95 shipping
if Schiewe didn’t come through.
Schiewe's parts person came back on the line declaring, “You’re in luck! We have about 15’ left over from a job we
recently completed. It’s yours for $34,
including clamps if you want it.”
Ian asked him to hold it, while he rechecked their location across an inlet in the Old Town section of Newport. It was only two miles away; an easy walk.
Ian asked him to hold it, while he rechecked their location across an inlet in the Old Town section of Newport. It was only two miles away; an easy walk.
After a
quick breakfast, we all set out for town, Ian to the marine supply store while
Brad and I went for groceries in town.
We found the path crossing the bridge we’d gone under the night before, passing the International Headquarters of the Rogue Brewery. We'd celebrated more than one birthday at the Issaquah Brewery, a local Rogue pub.
We talked
about getting a taxi back from the grocery store but were able to
carry everything in a backpack.
Ian got a ride back from the marine store from someone who was
headed in the same direction.
Rogue Brewery HQ, Newport, OR |
Brad and
I stopped at the Rogue HQ and booked a 5:00 p.m. tour of the brewery. I thought it would reward Ian for his yucky job and a time for all of us to relax after the previous few days.
Returning to the boat, as I put groceries away, I heard a knock on our hull. Going topside, I met fellow I/P 380 owner, Mike, who'd purchased Alpha Leoni from Garth Lindsey, a Puget Packeteer sailing club member, from Port Ludlow. A small world, I told him our plans to tour the Rogue Brewery and then have dinner there around 7:00. I invited him to join us and he agreed to meet us for dinner.
Returning to the boat, as I put groceries away, I heard a knock on our hull. Going topside, I met fellow I/P 380 owner, Mike, who'd purchased Alpha Leoni from Garth Lindsey, a Puget Packeteer sailing club member, from Port Ludlow. A small world, I told him our plans to tour the Rogue Brewery and then have dinner there around 7:00. I invited him to join us and he agreed to meet us for dinner.
Ian
finished work on the head around 2:00 p.m. and happily found found the showers to
clean up. We were all relieved his sh#%%y work was done, using all but three inches of the fifteen feet he'd purchased. Ah, perhaps Gandalf or Someone was watching over us.
Heading
over the Brewery, we sampled Rogue’s hoppy IPA beer and were all sworn in as
Rogue National Citizens. For the $5 tour price, we’d receive 25% off merchandise purchases and a $1 off on all
pints at their restaurants. I had a few sips and passed it
on to Ian who’d earned it. We moved out
to where they were making a batch of Hazelnut Brown Nectar, one of Ian’s
favorite beers. After seeing the huge fermenting vats, we returned to the sample room and tasted their Big Ass Barrel Brew. Of course, it's named for the big-ass barrel they make and store the brew in. Nate and Chuck are the father-and-son team that builds those "B-A" barrels.
We
learned that 98% of what goes in their beer is produced on the 250 acres of
farmland they own. They also make a Citrus Cucumber and Honey Orange sodas and root beer. A few years ago they ventured into hard spirits, including a whiskey, rum,
vodka and gin. Someone reported that
the Voodoo Bacon Maple Vodka was great in a Bloody Mary. Not being much of a hard-spirits drinker, take their word for it.
I was impressed that they walked their talk, living up to their Rogue name. I thought this would be a pretty fun place to work, liking their, “We do things our way,” attitude that had led them to success and a niche market of boutique brews and spirits.
At
dinner, we learned Mike was a semi-retired Industrial Arts/Woodworking professor from Oregon State University in Corvallis. His son was graduating next year and they
were planning a world-wide circumnavigation. He’ll continue teaching part-time, getting the
boat for their next year departure. We’re
looking forward to following them in the IPY online community.
Sampling "Big Ass Barrel" Brew at Rogue HQ, Newport, OR |
I was impressed that they walked their talk, living up to their Rogue name. I thought this would be a pretty fun place to work, liking their, “We do things our way,” attitude that had led them to success and a niche market of boutique brews and spirits.
Word for the Day.... Can you spell it? |
Saturday, August 6:
We spent two nights in Newport, concluding it was a place worth seeing. Mike had told us the previous evening that the marina gets 60 – 80 kt. winds in the winter. Boats need to be prepared for that and solid on their cleats. Moorage is a pretty cheap $2,600/year for a 38’ slip.
We met
an ex-Air Force sailor and his family who had moved from Beaufort, South Carolina to
Seattle. After a short time there, they'd sold everything, bought a 48' custom-built Jonmarie boat from Finland are are sailing to San Diego. Like us, they're headed to Crescent City about 190 nm away. They're going to wait a few days, but we plan to head out on Sunday. Getting there will require another overnight passage.
If we maintain our 6.2 kts. SOG, we’ll arrive in Crescent City around
2:00 p.m. Monday, August 8.
The next morning, we fuel up around 8:30 a.m. catching the early slack tide out of Newport.
As we pass under the 100’ bridge at the Port's entry, we note that the clear skies. It's far different than what we experienced just a few days earlier upon our entry. With the head repaired, we're ready to go! He’s really a genius when it comes to diagnosing and fixing anything on Tuamotu saving us time, money and frustration. I’m proud of him!
Ian's at the helm this morning enjoying the view and beautiful day. Early afternoon, we see two whales on the
port stern-side of our boat heading north to colder waters and rich feeding
grounds. The humpbacks have really made
a return to Pacific Northwest waters in recent years. They’re amazing to see, but from a distance, please!
As we pass under the 100’ bridge at the Port's entry, we note that the clear skies. It's far different than what we experienced just a few days earlier upon our entry. With the head repaired, we're ready to go! He’s really a genius when it comes to diagnosing and fixing anything on Tuamotu saving us time, money and frustration. I’m proud of him!
Leaving Newport, OR |
The
hoped-for 20 – 25 knot wind hasn't materialized, but we're maintaining a respectable six knots SOG. Early evening, the skies are clear
and we see a crescent moon. Stars shine evening sky. I use Starglobe, an app that I can point to the sky, finding out the names of stars, planets and constellations to where it's aimed. Pluto's in the southern sky, with Mars and
Saturn southwest. Far on
the western sky, low on the horizon is Jupiter.
This App is really cool and makes a novice stargazer like me
appreciate the night time show.
I head below around 11:00 p.m. with Ian and Brad again sharing night duty. It's much calmer than the first overnight rotation. I fall asleep easily, listening to the ongoing hum of the engine.
Sunday, August 7:
We left
Shilshole Marina in Seattle a week ago today.
While not long by the calendar, it feels long ago. By the time we reach Crescent City this
afternoon, we will have covered about 434 nautical miles (490 driven miles).
Our dock
captain from Shilshole Marina grew up in Crescent City. In a conversation with Ian, she said there wasn't much to do or see there. Ian replied, “The Redwoods! I want to see the redwoods!”
That’s a good reason to stop in Crescent City; that and bad weather. After being there two days, all three of us were in agreement she was right. If at all possible, AVOID the fuel station. It’s set up for commercial
vessels, with fuel on a dock at least six feet above the boat. As we were fueling up, the wind came up and we were blown against the tires at the waterline
used to fend off boats. I immediately
thought, “We’re going to end up with a boat claim out of this one.”
Brad was
at stern and I was at the bow. I desperately threw my line to people above me. On second attempt, the line was caught and I tried to push the boat away from the pilings: impossible. Ian hit reverse hard, bringing the boat around and Brad through up a spring line
at the beam. The stern line followed, securing the boat. Ian fueled up and walked up the ladder to pay on the dock. The next chore became getting away from the dock with the wind strongly pushing us inward. Ian's hit reverse HARD,, then an equally HARD right forward. I undid the bow line, quickly moving back to ease the spring while Brad released the stern. It worked!
No insurance claim, only a raised heart rate (no trip to the emergency
room required), and total agreement this was the worst fuel dock any of us had
experienced. We aptly named it the "Fuel
Dock from Hell."
"Fuel Dock from Hell" Crescent City Marina, CA |
Tsunami Sign at Office |
A few hours later, the Jonmarie boat, January, pulled into the slip next to us. Ian went outside to help catch their lines. John reported that the rough trip had resulted in a seasick mom and kids; not a great experience for them. The catamaran we’d seen in Neah Bay also had a slip at the marina.
After
lunch, we rested and researched the Jedediah State Park forest where the
redwoods are located. Ian had talked
with a car rental company called Two Guys before we left Seattle. Calling them, he arranged for them to pick
him up at the marina and take us to their rental location the next morning all for $44.
Later that afternoon, we walked around the marina and
through a part of the downtown area to stretch our legs. I'd made a Moroccan tangine for dinner which we ate with some naan bread. We read for a while and and turned out the lights early calling it a day.
Monday, August 8:
We slept
in this morning until around 8:30 enjoying being a bit lazy. The car rental agency was picking Ian up at 9:30. After a quick breakfast, I packed sandwiches, fruit, cheese, nuts and energy bars,
together with bottled water for the day we’d spend among the giant trees.
Ian was
back by 10:00 and we headed out. The park is only a few miles from town. There was no entry fee, and a very
modest road leading into the park. As
the road became narrower and turned to dirt, we saw signs for walking trails
and various loops. We went to trails end
at Stout Tree Grove, amazed at the height and girth of the trees, the
largest of which is a single-trunk tree 16’ in diameter and 340’ tall.
From this short loop, we caught the Hiouchi
Trail which borders the river. There’s a
small bridge to cross over the river to the other side where we continued
walking for another 30 minutes before realizing it was going to make a big loop
back to the entry road about five miles from where we’d parked the car. We turned around, recrossed the bridge and
headed back to the car.
The other big tree in this park is on the Boy Scout Trail. It’s 2.8 miles long and goes into a standing grove of redwoods, leading to the Boy Scout Tree and a small waterfall. After hiking for about 45 minutes, we stopped along the trail for our lunch. It was a treat to sit and eat surveying the trees and listening to the absolute silence of the forest. Surprisingly, there were few people on this trail.
Stout Grove Tree, Jedediah State Park |
Bridge near Hiouchi Trail, Jedediah Smith State Park |
The other big tree in this park is on the Boy Scout Trail. It’s 2.8 miles long and goes into a standing grove of redwoods, leading to the Boy Scout Tree and a small waterfall. After hiking for about 45 minutes, we stopped along the trail for our lunch. It was a treat to sit and eat surveying the trees and listening to the absolute silence of the forest. Surprisingly, there were few people on this trail.
After finishing our lunch, we
resumed our hike. Passing some other people on the trail, we learned that the trail to the Boy Scout Tree is elusive. We needed to watch for a small trail off on the right; it’s not marked. After about 45 minutes, we spotted it and walked about 20’ into the forest. The Boy Scout tree is massive.
It’s really two trees joined in one trunk that measures about 40-foot in
diameter. It’s over 2,000 years old and
is estimated to contain over 165,000 board feet of lumber. The tree splits off as it rises, as though
giving the two-finger Boy Scout salute.
The path ends at Fern Falls, a small tricking bit of water and testament to the lack of water in the area.
After taking some pictures, we
hiked the 2.8 miles out and back to the car where we returned to town. The three of us have different ways to track
steps but all confirmed we'd walked more than ten miles that day: A good distance given
our many days of little exercise on the boat.
Boy Scout Tree, Jedediah State Park |
Hungry, we found a restaurant near
the marina called the Harbor View Grotto.
They were known for having good seafood at good prices. We can confirm that. Ian had cod fish and chips;
Brad, a seafood plate with several varieties of local seafood, and I had a huge
calamari steak. The restaurant has not
been updated since the 70’s and had a strong vibe of that era. Satisfied and full, we left the restaurant and found the local Safeway to do
grocery shopping, hoping to leave the next morning. We bought fresh fruit and vegetables, returning to the boat, tired after a great day.
Tuesday, August 9:
As is our custom, about the first thing we do in the morning is fix coffee and begin checking the weather reports. As Ian and Brad compared weather service reports, they concluded it would be prudent to stay put for another day. Thirty-plus gale force winds were predicted. It didn't sound good, so stay we did.
The highlight of the morning was
finding that the showers were open so we took advantage of that. Ian updated his sail plan, investigating jump-in points if we needed to come in after leaving Crescent City. Bill, a friend and fellow sailor, was going to join us in Bodega Bay and sail into San Francisco with us. It's 239 n.m. from Crescent City to Bodega Bay and it would require at least one, perhaps two back-to-back overnight trips. Given that leg before us, an extra day and night of rest in Crescent
City was good.
So, what to do with our afternoon? While at Safeway the previous day, I'd spotted a movie theater in the same mall. All of us were up for that, walking the short distance into town. Ian
and I saw the latest Jason Bourne movie while Brad opted for Star Trek. We met up afterwards, concluding that both sequels were entertaining and predictable within their sequel genres. One final stop at the grocery store for items forgotten the previous day, then a walk back to the boat. After dinner that evening and a check of the weather, we were hopeful we'd be able to leave the following morning.
Wednesday, August 10 and Thursday, August 11:
The gale
warning has passed. Not believing we
could make it to Bodega Bay with one overnight trip, we opted instead for Fort
Bragg, 161 n.m. away. We’ll have another
overnight trip tonight, but should arrive at our destination around noon the next day. Winds may be frisky at 25 kts., but the
forecast calls for improving weather after Point Mendocino.
January is going to stay until at least
Friday, hoping from calmer waters and a more favorable forecast. They’re in no rush and the family isn’t
looking forward to more seasickness. I
share extra seasick patches with John for the family and wish them safe travels.
We leave
in clear skies heading out for 500' waters - about 15 miles
offshore. Winds are from the
West/Northwest and variable. Finding a
comfortable point of sail consistent with the waves hasn’t been easy this
morning. We’re also getting some tidal
drag slowing us down to a 5.5 SOG. We're hopeful this will be our last overnight leg.
As the
day carries on, the conditions on the water begin to deteriorate. It’s foggy again, so we turn on our fog
horn. There’s little boat traffic from fishing boats or cargo ships. As we start getting closer to Point Mendocino,
we check the latest weather forecast. It’s still favorable, but we're not seeing any clearing.
Variable wind and seas, approaching Point Mendocino |
They wake up, I fix dinner, and we move into the now familiar rotation cycle. Ian and Brad reviewed the weather and talk about a backup plan if we can't get into Fort Bragg tomorrow morning. We'd have to keep going toward Bodega Bay, arriving sometime around midnight. Entering the long, shallow channel at that time isn't prudent. That means we'd have to forego both Fort Bragg and Bodega Bay, doing two back-to-back nights to get to Drake's Bay which is only 20 miles north of San Francisco. At that point, we might opt to go directly to San Francisco. We have a backup plan. It's great listening to these two discuss options and work together. We joke with Brad that when he leaves in San Francisco to return home, we’ll be calling him at 6:00 a.m. to review sail plans for the next day.
It’s about 9:30 p.m. Wednesday evening and I try to
settle in below. It’s really chunky seas. Ian's set up a lee cloth for me in the main salon and I try it out, opting instead to go topside and keep him company. The weather hasn't calmed as forecast and I ask Ian if he's got an update on Channel 16.
He says, “They got it wrong! They’re now issuing a small craft advisory with 35 kts of wind and 10% chance of rain." You know what 10% chance of rain means in the Northwest: It’s already raining; that’s exactly what’s happening here. Instead of a calm night, it’s going to be another gnarly one.
He says, “They got it wrong! They’re now issuing a small craft advisory with 35 kts of wind and 10% chance of rain." You know what 10% chance of rain means in the Northwest: It’s already raining; that’s exactly what’s happening here. Instead of a calm night, it’s going to be another gnarly one.
Hopes for
entry at Fort Bragg the next morning diminish. We know it's a narrow, challenging entrance but these conditions make it dangerous. Ian says he'll call the Coast Guard the following morning for updated weather before we decide what to do. I go below and Ian later joins me. It's a rough uncomfortable night, but someone we get a couple hours of sleep.
The next morning Ian makes that call. The Coast Guard tells him there are three-foot breaking waves at the jetties on either side of the entrance and five-foot breaking waves at the bar. That finalized it; it's too dangerous to go in because of the weather. Bodega Bay and our meet-up with Bill is also eliminated due to our midnight or later arrival time. We were going to do two back-to-back overnights. The decision on Drake’s Bay, or go the additional 20 miles to San Francisco and the 10 - 15 miles beyond that to the marina will be made the next morning.
Looking back, these two days blend together and focus around watching weather, doing shift rotations and resting when possible. While the sail plan had to be adjusted and we were disappointed we didn't get to see Fort Bragg or meet our friend at Bodega Bay, you just have to take it as it comes. Weather can be unpredictable; plans have to change. No one was hurt, our boat is safe. Life is good!
The next morning Ian makes that call. The Coast Guard tells him there are three-foot breaking waves at the jetties on either side of the entrance and five-foot breaking waves at the bar. That finalized it; it's too dangerous to go in because of the weather. Bodega Bay and our meet-up with Bill is also eliminated due to our midnight or later arrival time. We were going to do two back-to-back overnights. The decision on Drake’s Bay, or go the additional 20 miles to San Francisco and the 10 - 15 miles beyond that to the marina will be made the next morning.
Looking back, these two days blend together and focus around watching weather, doing shift rotations and resting when possible. While the sail plan had to be adjusted and we were disappointed we didn't get to see Fort Bragg or meet our friend at Bodega Bay, you just have to take it as it comes. Weather can be unpredictable; plans have to change. No one was hurt, our boat is safe. Life is good!
One reminder from this passage: The Coast Guard WON’T advise you what to do in any weather situation. They will only report weather conditions at a given location. It's the captain's job to make the decision.
Friday, August 12:
When I
woke the morning of August 12, we were still underway. I knew immediately the decision had been made
NOT to go into Drake’s Bay, but enter San Francisco that morning. We were a couple hours out. Amazingly, that 161n.m. leg from Crescent City to Fort Bragg had morphed into
over 300-plus nm. back-to-back nights directly into San Francisco.
While we were
in Crescent City, Ian had reached out to the Berkeley Yacht Club where Brad and Gay had stayed on their trip a couple years ago. Ian called Ozzie, the Port Captain for the Yacht Club, telling him we were a day early and asking if they had a place for us. Luckily, he could accomodate our earlier date, extending a couple of nights reciprocal moorage to us. We can stay until the 17th of August, after which we can move to the nearby Berkeley Marina as necessary.
We'd been
saving a bottle of Veuve Cliequot Brut champagne to celebrate our entry into San Francisco. I’d put in the
refrigerator a couple of days ago, awaiting this day. Sailing under the Golden Gate Bridge for the
first time was a huge milestone, deserving of such celebration. I checked in with Ian who affirmed we
were only a couple hours away from San Francisco. Brad was still sleeping, but asked to be wakened for passage under the Bridge. My
contribution to all that’s been accomplished in the last 52 hours is a
great breakfast.
Passing under Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco, CA |
I'm below, working on breakfast. Soon, Ian says, “Come up here! I can see the footings of the Bridge!” Sure enough, there it is - a portion of the Golden Gate Bridge is visible. I grab my phone and start taking pictures. We'd awakened Brad about a half hour ago. He says, “That island over there is
Alcatraz.” I take more pictures. Wow!
We pass closely by and can see now why it would be very difficult for
anyone to escape. Three people actually made it into the water; their bodies were never found.
Alcatraz Island, San Francisco |
Breakfast, SFO Arrival |
We return to the boat and Ian uncorks the Champagne. I add some orange juice making mimosas and
we’re soon looking around and laughing, celebrating all that we’ve accomplished
over the past twelve days. Raising a
glass, we toast one another and our safe passage. It’s a great start to our trip!
The Yacht Club has a BBQ every Friday night at 7:00 p.m. so we’ve decide to go to that and meet some new people. For $10 each, Brad and Ian grill enormous cheeseburgers. I opted for salmon cakes. There’s green salad, potato salad, grilled veggies and ice cream sundaes with chocolate sauce for desert. People are friendly here. They
ask if we’re new members and we share that we’re visiting from Seattle. As we tell our story about leasing our house and living aboard for the next year, we get some surprised faces. The almost inevitable question comes to Pat, "Did you really sign up for this?" She assures them that yes, she did and is excited about doing this trip.
We return to the boat after our first evening in San Francisco. It's been a long couple of days, but we're pumped. We made it, and it feels great!
The Yacht Club has a BBQ every Friday night at 7:00 p.m. so we’ve decide to go to that and meet some new people. For $10 each, Brad and Ian grill enormous cheeseburgers. I opted for salmon cakes. There’s green salad, potato salad, grilled veggies and ice cream sundaes with chocolate sauce for desert. People are friendly here. They
Ian and Pat: Celebrating arrival in SFO |
We return to the boat after our first evening in San Francisco. It's been a long couple of days, but we're pumped. We made it, and it feels great!
Saturday, August 13:
We have a well deserved, sleep in morning today. We're here, two days ahead of our sail plan. For those of you who like facts, we've gone 862.1 nautical miles (970 statute miles) in 140.2 hours, averaging 6.15 kts/hour. We motor sailed most all the way, making that choice to move us quickly through the Washington and Oregon coast lines and the unpredictable weather. We burned 0.95 gallons of fuel per hour, using about 86 gallons of fuel overall at an average cost of $2.32 per gallon. We're lucky fuel prices are low, paying a minimum of $2.00 in Neah Bay. It's $3.15 in Berkeley so we'll wait to fuel up in Half Moon Bay, our next stop. We're impressed with Tuamotu's performance which is on par with our Vancouver Island circumnavigation last year.
Brad was awesome crew! |
When we get back to the marina, we decide the next order of business is cleaning up the boat. We have friends arriving this evening from Petaluma and all of us are attending a dinner and a lecture at the Berkeley Yacht Club. Bill and Cynthia are the former I/P 380 owners of a sistership called Creme Brulee. They traveled with her from San Francisco down the west coast, into Mexico, through the Panama Canal and up the Intercoastal Waterway. They then trucked the boat to San Diego where they sailed down the coast to Neuvo Vallarta. Creme Brulee was moored there until she was brought back to the Northwest and later sold. Bill's given us some ideas on places to see while in San Francisco and stops to consider in California.
Tuamotu at Berkeley Yacht Club |
Sunday and Monday, August 14 - 15:
Brad's gone back into town on the Bart (subway) while I work on the Blog and Ian relaxes and does some low-key boat-related maintenance. Feels good to just have some down time, but we're still experiencing some vertigo, not yet fully recovering our land legs. It was great to see some friends last evening. We're impressed with the big welcome we've received from the Berkeley Yacht Club: Nice people and a homey atmosphere not unlike we've experienced in Seattle.
Sesame Calamari at Skates Restaurant, Berkeley, CA |
Dinner is excellent but it's still too cloudy to see the Golden Gate Bridge. The walk back to the boat is chilly. So far it appears the Seattle-like weather continues to keep us company. We've been told more than once that summer here really begins here in September. It might be worth staying just to see if it's true!
The next morning, we have yogurt and fruit for breakfast. Brad's making the trip to the airport via the BART which he'll catch in North Berkeley while Ian and I attend a yoga class at Addison Yoga Loft.
Pat waiting for a yoga class, Addison Yoga Loft, Berkeley |
As we return to the boat after
the yoga class, I’m feeling a bit sad.
Having Brad aboard was a connection to home and Seattle. The untethered nature of our trip is both
grand and unnerving. We don’t
have many commitments along the way and can move as quickly or slowly as we
choose. Our plan for now is to stay in
San Francisco until August 25th or 27th, depending on
weather. We're going wine tasting near
Petaluma with our Bill and Cynthia and will be driving to Rancho Santa
Margarita in Orange County for our grandson’s ninth birthday party August 20th. We want to do some sightseeing and there’s
also some grocery shopping and boat chores to finish before
departing.
Tuesday, August 16:
We're heading into San Francisco today to tour the waterfront and City. We’re renting a car later in the week but for
now, we'll get lots of exercise by walking.
The North Berkeley BART station is about 2.5 miles away. I’ve made sandwiches, packing drinks and
snacks for a picnic later this afternoon. Ian loads
everything into a backpack and we head out.
It’s about 9:00 a.m. and pretty cool outside. We’re glad we’ve brought along our Seattle clothes. Looking around, we fit right in with the Berkeley
crowd.
Fisherman's Wharf |
We
arrive about 20 minutes later at the Embarcadero and have a coffee at Peet’s. Fueled up and ready to go, we head down
Market Street to the waterfront. We walk
into the Ferry Building which has been transformed into an indoor market with
lots of specialty shops. One is a mushroom
store that amazes me with the varietals available.
Mushroom Shop at Ferry Building, San Francisco, CA
|
Exiting
the Ferry Building, we continue walking along the Embarcadero waterfront toward
Fishermen’s Wharf. There are buskers and musicians along the street and we stop and watch and enjoy them
along the way. The waterfront has its
own unique vibe and rhythm. It's integration into the City is impressive and we wonder if that’s
what it will feel and look like when Seattle's waterfront renovation is completed and “Bertha” drilling of the subway tunnel is done.
Near Fisherman's Wharf is the San Francisco Maritime National Park. Here, one can tour some of the historic cargo ships that transported goods between San Francisco and other countries during the last two centuries. Balclutha, a three-masted, steel-hulled square-rigged ship is docked here. She was launched in 1886 by the Charles Connell & Co. shipyard of Glasgow, Scotland. The ship carried goods around Cape Horn, South America, seventeen times! It took a 26-man crew to handle the ship at sea with her complex rigging and 25 sails.
At
Pier 41, and up the hillside from Fisherman’s Wharf, we spot Ghirardelli
Square and its famous chocolate shop of the same name. With some reading, we learn the Company was sold to
the Golden Grain Macaroni Company in the 1950's. The Roth family bought the land
and buildings in 1962 to prevent the gracious brick structure from being demolished. They converted it into an integrated retail complex which now houses Ghirardelli’s main chocolate shop. It’s
a chocolate lover’s dream: four walls with chocolate from floor to ceiling. Ian is a bit of a 'choc'o'holic' claiming that if chocolate is in the house (or on the boat) it calls to him. So naturally, he responds to that call. I replenished our supply but will hide the stash to make it last longer.Ghirardelli's Wall of Chocolates |
Palace of Fine Arts, San Francisco, CA |
After
the tour, we walked four miles back to Market Street. At Zippy's Burgers we have a gourmet selection. It's about the only thing open at 7:30 p.m. in the financial district. My veggie burger and sweet-potato fries were
great and Ian enjoyed his huge cheeseburger and fries. We figured we’d earned those calories having
walked 12 miles so far.
After
dinner, we caught the BART back to North Berkeley and an additional two and one-half miles to the boat. Home never felt so good! Our toes were very happy after a shower as we
climbed into bed.
Raspberry Muffins |
Wednesday, August 17:
After
our long walk yesterday, we opt for a slow start this morning. A friend, Judy, had given us some frozen
raspberry jam before we left, so I make raspberry muffins this morning. Later, we walk uptown for a noon yoga class. When we get back to the boat, we move from the Berkeley Yacht Club to the adjacent Berkeley Marina. We spend the rest of the day doing laundry
and preparing to go to Petaluma the following day. Friday, we'll drive to Rancho Santa Margarita for our grandson’s birthday.
Thursday, August 18:
We
called the rental car agency this morning and they’ll deliver our car to the
marina around 9:30 a.m. We were up early
to pack for the weekend, expecting to return to the boat Sunday or
Monday. Bill called Ian this morning, asking if
we can be in Petaluma by 12:30. We're going to visit two or three wineries
for wine tasting that afternoon.
While
the 580-East Freeway was congested for the first 20 minutes, we arrive in Petaluma about 30 minutes later. Bill and Cynthia are ready to leave, and we jump into their car setting off for Oliver’s Market to get sandwiches for a picnic lunch. We discover it's very much like the Central Market or
Whole Food Stores at home, but of a smaller scale.
Bill tells us we're going to Truett-Hurst in Hearldsburg. It's located in Dry Creek Valley of Sonoma
County. There, we sampled three different wines, choosing a 2014 Zinfandel to accompany our creekside picnic. The temperature is in the mid-eighties and much warmer than we've been experiencing. It's a beautiful time and we laugh lots and enjoy lunch.
From
there, we traveled a short distance to Cloverdale and Sbragia Winery. There, we sampled a white wine and a fruity
merlot. We enjoyed the beautiful outlook
down the Valley before leaving for the Francis Ford Coppola Winery in
Geyserville. The Coppola Winery mission is to celebrate “winemaking and filmmaking, two of California’s great art forms,”
according to Coppola.
Truett-Hurst 2014 Zinfandel
|
We return to
Bill and Cynthia’s home around 6:00 p.m. and have a light dinner followed by conversation and more catching up.
We'll leave early the next morning and thank them for a fun
day as we head for bed.
Friday, August 19 – Sunday,
August 21:
After breakfast of oatmeal, strawberries and juice, we say goodbye to our hosts and set out for the 470-mile drive (yes, really!) to Rancho
Santa Margarita. We'll be going via I-5: The same I-5 in Washington. We share the
road with lots of trucks no doubt on their way to Los Angeles. We make pretty good time traveling at the seventy mile-per-hour speed limit. We
arrive in Lake Forest, a town near Rancho Santa Margarita (RSM) around 7:00
p.m. We eat dinner and crawl into bed at
a nearby hotel knowing that tomorrow will be a day filled with activities as our birthday boy, Rogan, and his not-to-miss anything sister, Ainsley, who
is five keep us happily busy.
Saturday is all we've expected it to be: A day filled with excitement and family celebration. Shortly after we arrive it's time for lunch. Waiting a requisite one hour we then head to a nearby swimming pool where we watch in amazement at how much progress both children have made swimming. Both know all four strokes and are confident in the water. At home, our absence give Andrea, Rogan's mom, time to finish decorating and preparing for the family BBQ and party.
Saturday is all we've expected it to be: A day filled with excitement and family celebration. Shortly after we arrive it's time for lunch. Waiting a requisite one hour we then head to a nearby swimming pool where we watch in amazement at how much progress both children have made swimming. Both know all four strokes and are confident in the water. At home, our absence give Andrea, Rogan's mom, time to finish decorating and preparing for the family BBQ and party.
Home again, we enjoy the BBQ while Rogan awaits and then enjoys the surprises coming with his birthday celebration. He's appreciative of the made-from-scratch solar-system-themed
birthday cake his mom has baked and decorated for him as he blows out
all nine candles. We’re all smiling from ear-to-ear happy to share the day with
him.
Endeavor Space Shuttle
|
Monday, August 22 -
Friday, August 26:
After the long driving weekend, Monday got
off to a slow start. We went to a noon
yoga class at the Loft, then up University Avenue in Berkeley to Trader Joe’s. The chandlery at Berkeley Marina has little
for transient sailors, geared up for commercial vessels and its own
boatyard. We found a West Marine in
Alameda and headed there for a few supplies.
The rest of the day was spent getting grocery packing materials off the
boat, storing said groceries and boat supplies and some late afternoon reading
and relaxation.
We’re going to return the car we rented tomorrow, so
used it today to tour UC-Berkeley campus.
There are many old-growth birch and other trees along meandering
sidewalks and many architecturally interesting buildings on site. We found the Life Sciences building which
houses an archeological paleontology center with a casting of a T-Rex dinosaur
discovered in Montana, the original of which is at the Museum of the Rockies in Bozeman, Montana, Pat’s alma mater.
T-Rex cast, Berkeley Life Science Bldg |
The three and a half feet tall, Lucy, a two-legged
apelike human relative who lived about 3.2 million years ago is located
here. She got her name from the Beatles
song, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds that played over and over on a tape
recorder during the drink-enhanced all-night celebration at the 1974 Ethiopian
campsite where she was discovered. She
was a new species, and perhaps the mother of all of us.
Two
decades later and 46 miles away from where Lucy was discovered a 4.4million
year old female nicknamed “Ardi” weighing an estimated 110 pounds and about four
feet tall was found by an Ethiopian-born Berkeley grad student. It took seventeen years to assemble and
analyze the results, but she represented a new species, possibly ancestral to
Lucy. These skeletal remains are in the
National Museum of Ethiopia and as such are not as well-known as Lucy.
Later
in the week we called to tell our son-in-law Brian goodbye. He’s an Apache helicopter pilot and is being stationed
in Korea for a year. They made the
decision that the family which includes three boys ages 9, 7 and 6 would remain
here in the states. This is his third
overseas assignment having served in both Afghanistan and Iraq. We’ll be going to visit them for holidays and
help out as requested. A year feels like
a long time and we’re hoping it will pass quickly and uneventfully for them.
After
our call, we left Berkeley Marina for Angel Island where we’ll spend the
night. It was great wind in San Francisco
Bay so we spent about four hours sailing and had a great time. Tacking into Angel Island wasn’t easy because
the wind direction kept changing as passed between Angel Island and
Tiberon. After a couple of attempts, we
made it and did a Mediterranean tie between two buoys in Ayala Cove.
It
was very shallow there with only about a 1.5 feet beneath our keel at low
tide. Our boat draws 4’10” so it’s wise
to anchor in deeper water near the edge of the bay rather than center. We spent a very sloppy, washboard night with
movement finally settling down a bit after midnight. Because it’s shallow and uncomfortable
overnight, we would recommend it as a day anchorage with some on-shore hiking
if the weather is clear. The 750’
mountaintop hike affords 360-degree views on a clear day. Unfortunately, the day we were there was
socked in and cloudy, so we decided to move on to Sausalito where we have a slip
at the Clipper Yacht Marina waiting.
Saturday, August 27 –
Tuesday, August 30:
We left Angel Island around noon traveling the short
distance to Sausalito. The marina we
chose was about a mile and half from downtown.
We chose to use the rest of the day for boat clean up with Ian washing
the hull and boat deck while I cleaned the canvas cockpit enclosure and area
below deck. We went to “Fish,” a nearby
restaurant with a great menu and indoor/outdoor seating.
Sausalito Waterfront |
The ambiance was great and it was crazy busy;
a local favorite as well as frequented by the sailing community. We then walked into town, enjoying the
waterfront views and walkway. The
downtown area is an artist’s dream: Lots
of art stores and interesting storefronts.
We window shopped, but did find a great place for yogurt and ice cream
for desert. We’d love to spend another
day or two here, but a friend is meeting us tomorrow for the day sail to Pillar
Point near Half Moon Bay.
The next morning, Bill, who was going to join us in
Bodega Bay, joined us aboard after we shared breakfast at Anchorage 5 with his
wife, Cynthia. He’ll be joining us for
the 25-mile sail to Pillar Point where Cynthia will meet us for dinner at It’s Italia in Half Moon Bay.
It’s clear today so we’ll get a great view of the
Bridge as we pass underneath it – unlike our entrance two weeks ago.
There’s variable wind between 8 – 12 knots so may not get to sail since
it’s right on our beam. Bill’s at the helm,
feeling comfortable there. Tuamotu is, a sistership to their
well-used and loved Crème Brulee.
We
enjoy a slow-paced easy sail/motor-sail, arriving around 4:00 p.m. at Pillar
Point. We fuel up here since diesel is
$2.70/gallon versus $3.15 in Berkeley.
Bill disembarks while we find a place in the outer bay to anchor
out. The bay is shallow and we find a
place offering about seven feet under our keel at high tide; four feet a low
tide. We don’t need much anchor out in
this sandy-bottomed anchorage.
We dinghy back to the dock and Cynthia meets us a few
minutes later. Half Moon Bay is four
miles south of Pillar Point. They lived
here for several years and show us the area.
It’s a small town with a quaint downtown area. It feels welcoming and homey; we can see why
they liked it here. It does, however,
remain foggy for a good portion of the year – even more so than San
Francisco.
We have a simple dinner at Its Italia, a restaurant they’ve enjoyed for years. It’s busy with a Spanish/Italian vibe. We save room for yummy key lime pie for
desert. After dinner, we head back to the marina. Bill and Cynthia have a two-hour drive back to Petaluma. We say our goodbyes, thanking Cynthia for all the driving she did today. We’ve enjoyed the
Berkeley Yacht Club, wine-tasting and how sailing with them during our time in
San Francisco. We’re grateful for their
friendship and the time we’ve spent together, hoping we can reciprocate at a
later date.
Pelicans at Pillar Point Breakwater |
Wednesday, August 31 –
Wednesday, September 7:
There's been lots of sea life near Pillar Point. We were treated to a bath from a huge seal coming into the Pillar Point marina and watching the brown pelicans awkwardly dive into the water in search of dinner. Humpback whales are near the entrance to the Bay and on a walk toward Half Moon Bay we count at least six.
We're spending three nights at Pillar Point, taking walks each day, having dinner one night at Ketch JoAnne's and just hanging out. We've got a northwest wind so will be leaving tomorrow morning for Santa Cruz. We're both feeling a bit reluctant to go. This has been a friendly, calm anchorage and we find ourselves getting attached to the surrounding and ambiance. Part of the irony of an open-scheduled trip like ours is that we don't have to be any place at any particular time. We enjoy moving to a new place but also feel reluctant to leave. As we become more experienced in this nomadic lifestyle, we'll probably find out how to better manage the leave-stay balance.
It's 47 miles to Santa Cruz and will take us about eight hours to travel that distance. The forecast is for 15 - 20 knots of wind in the morning, building to 25 knots in the afternoon. We begin motor sailing, keeping our mainsail out for stability.
About an hour after leaving, we're treated to a humpback beating his tale against the water. The sound is amazing - not unlike a timpani drum! I can't believe I capture it on Ian's cellphone!
Doing some reading, I learn that the reason these whales behave in this manner is uncertain. The most plausible reason, however, is to scare smaller fish into a tight ball for the whale to then enjoy a feast. Others say it's to attract a mate or warn others "This is my territory." Whatever the reason, it's impressive.
We're going to anchor at Santa Cruz so find a place on the west side of the pier. There are lots of sea lions who call the pier “home” and they sing to one another, each trying to impress the other with a bigger, longer song. We'll give them lots of room and hope they're not too curious about our boat, wanting to sun themselves on our swim step.
There's been lots of sea life near Pillar Point. We were treated to a bath from a huge seal coming into the Pillar Point marina and watching the brown pelicans awkwardly dive into the water in search of dinner. Humpback whales are near the entrance to the Bay and on a walk toward Half Moon Bay we count at least six.
We're spending three nights at Pillar Point, taking walks each day, having dinner one night at Ketch JoAnne's and just hanging out. We've got a northwest wind so will be leaving tomorrow morning for Santa Cruz. We're both feeling a bit reluctant to go. This has been a friendly, calm anchorage and we find ourselves getting attached to the surrounding and ambiance. Part of the irony of an open-scheduled trip like ours is that we don't have to be any place at any particular time. We enjoy moving to a new place but also feel reluctant to leave. As we become more experienced in this nomadic lifestyle, we'll probably find out how to better manage the leave-stay balance.
It's 47 miles to Santa Cruz and will take us about eight hours to travel that distance. The forecast is for 15 - 20 knots of wind in the morning, building to 25 knots in the afternoon. We begin motor sailing, keeping our mainsail out for stability.
About an hour after leaving, we're treated to a humpback beating his tale against the water. The sound is amazing - not unlike a timpani drum! I can't believe I capture it on Ian's cellphone!
Doing some reading, I learn that the reason these whales behave in this manner is uncertain. The most plausible reason, however, is to scare smaller fish into a tight ball for the whale to then enjoy a feast. Others say it's to attract a mate or warn others "This is my territory." Whatever the reason, it's impressive.
We're going to anchor at Santa Cruz so find a place on the west side of the pier. There are lots of sea lions who call the pier “home” and they sing to one another, each trying to impress the other with a bigger, longer song. We'll give them lots of room and hope they're not too curious about our boat, wanting to sun themselves on our swim step.
The next morning, we took our dinghy across the bay to
the marina and walked the boardwalk amusement park which was created in
1907. It’s full of rides and nostalgia
with many older buildings and restaurants on the pier. Downtown Santa Cruz is a tree-lined avenue with
boutique-type shops. It has a relaxed
atmosphere. From there, we walked down
the jetty-type pier and had clam chowder in a bread bowl, enjoying the
cacophony of birds and sea lions.
It’s a somewhat foggy Friday morning, the first we’ve
seen here. It was a bit of a choppy
night, so we’re ready to cross Monterey Bay to the City of Monterey twenty-two
miles beyond. This is a designated sea
life preserve and there’s been much ongoing work to maintain habitat for seals,
whales and of course, the sea lions. We
were rewarded with seeing a whale flapping its tail against the surface of the
water. It continued in this beat-the-sea
type of behavior for almost a minute – long enough for me to capture it on
video while Ian was at the helm.
I
looked up why whales might act in this manner.
While not clear, it could be anything from claiming territory,
attracting a mate to a feeding practice with the latter being most likely. By slapping the water (it sounds like a huge
kettle drum) vigorously, the fish swarm together into a tight ball, enabling
the whale to come up underneath them and gorge himself on the fish ball. Whatever the reason, it was spectacular to
see!
We’ve
been extended three nights of moorage at the Monterey Peninsula Yacht Club who
have a dock deep in the Monterey Marina.
Happy to meet our hosts, we joined them topside and had a great dinner
of seafood cakes for me and flank steak for Ian. Nice people and very welcoming! They’re hosting a race the end of this month
and are having a ‘clean the clubhouse’ Day of Pride tomorrow. As a way of saying thank you, we both participated
in polishing furniture and brass, together with about 25 other members.
In
the afternoon, we walked down the waterfront area to Cannery Row. There’s been lots of work done the past
several years on restoring the waterfront area.
There’s a wide walkway that’s teeming with people today on this long,
holiday weekend. The aquarium is said to
be top-rate but it was such a beautiful day, we chose instead to do the City’s
Historical walking tour taking in the history of Monterey which was once the capital city of Alta California under Spain and Mexico. A U.S. flag was raised in 1846 after the Mexican-American War. The Spanish architecture
has been preserved through many of the buildings downtown and the City Hall
with its stone plaza.
The
next day, we walked in the opposite direction toward the Naval Post-Graduate
School. There’s a standing grove of
eucalyptus trees lining the walkway and sand dune restoration projects along
the beach. We ate out dinner Sunday
evening at the London Bridge Pub near the marina. Ian couldn’t resist chicken pie in a pastry
shell while I opted for an ahi tuna salad. Of course, there were a couple pints of English Stout to accompany dinner as we looked out on the marina and sunset. It was a great day of discovery.
While we loved Monterey, it was time for us to be moving on. We're headed for Stillwater Cove which is about nine miles south of Monterey. Getting there, we pass Point Pinos which has the oldest operating lighthouse on the west coast where it has been guiding mariners to safety since 1855. The water was lumpy today but we did sail out of Monterey Harbor and into the bay, enjoying several tacks to gain position to pass the Point.
The downwind entry to Stillwater caused us to turn on the engine as we zigzagged out way through kelp hoping to avoid fouling our propeller. Finding a place close to shore, we anchored in about nine feet of water just off Arrowhead Point, home of the eighth tee of Pebble Beach Golf Course. There are fantastic views from the water and those whose homes are in Pebble Beach have equally admirable views. The price tag for a day on this world-famous golf course for non-members is around $325. Add in dinner and drinks, and it's easily a $500 day. Instead, we opt for an on board dinner of split pea soup, bread, cheese and fruit. We have a beautiful view of the setting sun and shadows on other boats in the cove: A great day!
The next morning, we're up at 5:15 a.m. to make coffee and prepare for our seventy-eight nautical mile trek south to San Simeon. It had been a surprisingly rolley night, probably because we came in so deep to avoid kelp beds. We leave around 6:15, using the light of daybreak for guidance through the fields of growth in the cove. Its foggy this morning too, so we'll take it slow, turning on the fog horn. It's quiet with little wind this morning so we motor sail, using the mainsail for stability through the graceful Pacific waves.
It's going to take around twelve hours to arrive. The skies are generally hazy today, probably the result of the Soberanes Fire that's burned over 102,000 acres during the past 49 days and is only 60% contained. This is just one of nine fires extending across the California landscape this summer. This fire was started by an illegal campfire. CAL FIRE says 95 percent of all wildfires are caused by human activity. I'm happy to report Washington isn't experiencing fires of this magnitude this year - at least at this time.
San Simeon Bay has a large pier which was used to deliver supplies to the Hearst complex which sits about three miles above the coastline at the top of a hill. There are daily tours of the grounds but getting from our boat safely to shore is problematic. San Simeon is only a safe anchorage in northwest wind with no protection from the south.
We're learning nature plays a far bigger role in our lives these days. We're must be mindful of her winds, waters, waves and temperament. Some days are ones to slow down and be at ease, others ones where we must move on to safer waters. The wind this morning is from the south. While only at twelve knots, we won't risk being pushed into shore; we need to move on Morro Bay. Luckily, we've both toured Hearst Mansion which is not unlike a "stately home" in England. It somehow feels more extravagant here.
We pull anchor around noon knowing it will take us three to four hours to travel to Morro Bay. Luckily the wind is only around five knots. It's from the south which means we're going into the weather and while the waves are coming from the opposite direction, it's not too bad. We have to motor sail given the conditions. The skies are overcast and the air is heavy; it feels more challenging to breathe. I'm feeling a bit disconnected today and ready for a couple of days to relax. We've been pushing hard and are reminded again of the trite, but true saying, "It's the Journey, not the Destination."
We arrive at Morro Bay around 4:30 p.m. It's immediately identifiable by the huge volcanic rock and three stacks near the channel entrance. At one time, Morro Bay was considered the most dangerous port of entry in the United States. The Army Corp of Engineers put in breakwaters and changed the entry such that now, while challenging on windy, stormy days, on days like today it's easily passable.
Because there are so many boats at the dock, we'll have to raft to another sailboat, Christina EOS. Paul, her captain, is from Vancouver, British Columbia, and is heading north after a year sailing down the coast. He went as far as Ensenada, Mexico, but is still working part time. He's found moorage at Brisbane Marina near San Francisco. We thank him for the raft up and get ourselves settled in. While we both like anchoring out, it feels good to be connected to shore power where we don't have to worry about amps going in or out.
We arrive at Morro Bay around 4:30 p.m. It's immediately identifiable by the huge volcanic rock and three stacks near the channel entrance. At one time, Morro Bay was considered the most dangerous port of entry in the United States. The Army Corp of Engineers put in breakwaters and changed the entry such that now, while challenging on windy, stormy days, on days like today it's easily passable.
Because there are so many boats at the dock, we'll have to raft to another sailboat, Christina EOS. Paul, her captain, is from Vancouver, British Columbia, and is heading north after a year sailing down the coast. He went as far as Ensenada, Mexico, but is still working part time. He's found moorage at Brisbane Marina near San Francisco. We thank him for the raft up and get ourselves settled in. While we both like anchoring out, it feels good to be connected to shore power where we don't have to worry about amps going in or out.
After doing some chores Thursday morning (laundry, reorganizing
bins, consolidating space), we stretch our legs with a long walk out to Morro
Bay Rock, past the three stacks of an energy plant. The sun is out and it’s a beautiful bay,
looking far different from our entrance yesterday. I’m happy to be on land again, yet feel like
I’m still moving. It will take awhile to
adjust to being on land again. We see a
group of people gathered at the shore and see a group of sea otters sunning
barely moving on the surface of the water.
Wayne, a gentleman with a huge telescope, invites us for a closer look
at the sea otters and we admire their almost-smiling faces. It looks like they, too, are appreciating a
sunny day after gorging themselves on mussels and small fish nearby.
We introduce ourselves to the group, answering their questions
about where we’re from and what we’re doing in the area. We’re not lone adventurers here, discovering
another couple from San Francisco who have rented out their home for the past
three-and-one-half years, visiting friends and a daughter in London. They tell us with some regret that their most
recent tenants are moving out the end of September so they’re headed home and
will live in their home until after the first of the year when they’re heading
to Zimbabwe to visit a friend. Marie
shares that she’s enjoyed not being responsible for a home, and I echo her
sentiment. While Seattle is certainly
still home, we’re not missing all the stuff attached to home maintenance. That said, I do miss teaching yoga, students
and friends I’ve made over the past several years.
Friday morning, we find a yoga class to attend at Yoga Centers of Morro Bay. After class,
I share with Jennifer, our yoga teacher, that Morro Bay reminds me of Port
Townsend with its uptown and downtown areas and laid-back 60’s vibe. She laughs and says, “I’ve been to Port
Townsend a couple of times, and you’re right!
They do feel the same!”
The Morro Bay Yacht Club has invited us to attend their “Happy
Friday!” gathering that evening. We
happily attend and feel welcomed by our sailing community. We’re asked to join two couples at a table
for dinner. Duncan, a long-time sailor,
speaks with an accent we recognize and find out he’s from Shield Hill,
Scotland, near Falkirk where Ian’s dad was born! He and wife Madeline, did a seven-year
circumnavigation in their sailboat from 1992 – 1999. When we share our seemingly modest adventure
from Seattle to San Diego, Madeline tells us to go slow and savor each
moment.
John and Carole share that they sailed from San Francisco to
Manzanillo, Mexico. We asked how they returned
to San Francisco and John tells us of a sloppy trip to the Big Island of
Hawaii. Sailing most of the way, they
had nine days of beating to weather and arrived so exhausted in Hawaii it took
them three attempts to drop anchor. They
left from Hanalei, Kauai, and had a fast sail to Vancouver Island, easily find
trade winds to carry them on their way.
Earlier in the day, Ian had met a couple at the dock who had also
done a circumnavigation who had made Antigua their permanent home and kept
their home in Morro Bay rented. They
were here visiting friends and were soon headed back home. It seems we’ve joined a town of nomads, not
unlike ourselves. Another theme often
repeated by those we’ve talked to is, “We used to live in San Francisco and now
live in Morro Bay. We love it because
it’s a slow-paced, relaxed beach town that hasn’t become overcrowded.” A contributing factor to why it’s not
overcrowded may be that it’s known as being the foggiest place on the west
coast.
Saturday morning after we get back from yoga, we find a guidebook
on the Channel Islands in our cockpit.
We’d shared with our tablemates the prior evening that we planned to go
there and John said, “You need the guidebook.
It will give you good information on how to enter some of the harbors
and more info about the islands.” Sure
enough, the book is from them with a note they have two books and we need not
worry about returning this one.
We find a telephone number and call to thank them for the book,
inviting them to share a casual dinner of pizza and salad with us that evening. They agree and pizza, salad and a bottle of
red wine are shared, together with learning about each other’s adventures,
families, choices and lives. A great
evening and one we’ll remember!
With regret, we leave Morro Bay around noon on Sunday, September
11. We joke that if we don’t leave
today, we’ll be like another couple we met who have stayed for twenty
years! This has been a surprising stop
and a reminder that first impressions aren’t always correct. The grey skies and problems with entry and
finding moorage were overcome. We’ve met
fellow yogis at Yoga Centers of Morro Bay, and sailing friends at the yacht
club. Life feels pretty great right
now.
There’s little wind this morning, so we motor a good part of the twenty-two
miles to Avila. Most boats have snugged
in tight against the headland near the marina.
We’d prefer more space so find anchorage west of the pier. We can see some families on the beach and
some playing in the small waves coming into shore. It’s sunny out and we eat dinner in the
cockpit, watching two other sailboats find anchorage near us. We’re not experiencing much swell action or
wind so expect a calm night. It’s interesting that just on the other side of
the headland we passed it was foggy while Avila Beach is sunny. Maybe this is the beginning of the sunshine
and warmer weather that will happen once we’re around Point Conception.
The one thing we find challenging while living on our boat is
keeping track of what DAY it is. Today –
Monday, September 12 – will be a long day.
We have fifty-three miles to cover to pass around Point Conception, so we leave around 8:30 a.m., expecting to arrive around
5:00 or 5:30 p.m. Traveling in a boat
isn’t fast; averaging six miles in an hour for a sailboat our size (38 feet) is very good. That said, we’ve
traveled around a thousand miles already since July 31. That feels like a long time ago!
There’s about ten – twelve knows of wind on
our stern. We have to make some choices
about sailing versus motor-sailing and end up doing a bit of both.
About all we’ve seen out here today is oil drilling and pumping rigs and
a nuclear power plant – the second we’ve seen without about sixty miles.
I go below to talk return a telephone call, and while waiting on hold miss a parade of dolphins that escort our boat for a short distance. Ian gets to see them dive and dance in the wake of our boat, playing. It's as if they're saying, "It's a great day! The water is warm! Come in and play with us!" When I emerge from below, the main show is over, but I do get to see a couple jumping at least a foot out of the water, bounding towards their playmates. They look smaller than those we see in the northwest but it’s an amazing treat to
have them escort the boat.
As we round Point Conception and Government Point nearby, we lower
sails into Cojo anchorage. There’s very
little protection here and we see why our book recommends it for emergency
stops, or as for us, a jump off point for the Channel Islands. It’s bouncy here but it’s just for one night
and we trust our boat and anchoring skills.
Tomorrow, we’ll head for the Channel Islands off the coast of Santa
Barbara and Ventura.
The
Channel Islands and Channel Island National Park (9/13 – 9/16):
Hooray! We’ve got sunshine
this morning and NO FOG! Maybe it’s
really true that after you go around Point Conception there’s more sunshine and
warmer temperatures. We’ve usually
turned the heat on the boat first thing in the morning, but didn’t need to do
that this morning.
It’s only twenty-three miles to San Miguel, the first of the
Channel Islands. It’s owned by the Navy
but administered on a day-to-day basis by the National Park Service. Cuyler Harbor is our destination, the only
place you can go ashore. Our book
describes it as one of the “most hauntingly beautiful harbors along the
1000-miles, ranking it with La Push, Washington! Having never been in that harbor, we can’t
argue, but we do know Washington’s ocean isn’t of this color. In early winter, as many as 20,000 seals and
other pinnipeds congregate at the north end of the island. We’ve heard their serenades and know it would
be a very noisy but joyous reunion and one that few witness given the blustery
wind on San Miguel that time of year.
When we arrive, we’re surprised to see two other sailboats in the
harbor – one with diving gear – and one outfitted for fishing. There’s another small power boat, so small
that we wonder how it ventured here across the 20 miles of open water.
We’d hoped to do some hiking on this unique island that’s said to
have lime castings of long-decayed trees called Caliche (forests). They’re at the northern end of the island and
you can only get there by escort via a Park ranger! While that would probably be interesting to
do, it’s a sixteen-mile walking trip. Today,
we opt instead for a walk on the beach and short hike to Monument Lookout on
the beach.
Ian’s providing pump-up-dinghy, launch-dinghy-and-row-to-shore
service again. It’s no wonder that with
all the physical activity living aboard requires he continues to lose weight as
he did on our trip last year. Onshore,
we see sand being tossed in the air and realize there are seals buried in the
sand, using their fins to toss sand over their body warming them. There appears to be an underground “Seal
Town” here, so we’ll walk in the opposite direction. After all, who wants to wake or step on a
sleeping seal?
We’re walking on a white sandy beach which is just magnificent. There are some sand dollars and small
shells. We can also see the carcasses of
shrimp and squid that have been enjoyed by the gulls and seals nearby. Ian finds an inland trail that leads us
through small curling bushes that look like stunted oaks. Everything appear to be dead, but like other
desert plants, perhaps they come alive when it rains?
We follow a sign leading us to Cabrillo Monument where there’s a
memorial to Jose Cabrillo is believed to have died. He is credited with discovering California
for Spain in the mid-1500’s. It’s clear
today and the viewpoint gives us a spectacular view of the bay and surrounding
islands. It’s warm and there’s a breeze
blowing. This is definitely the
prettiest place we’ve been and the sandy beach and sea life nearby make it an
amazing; almost like stepping into our own wonderland.
We head back to the dinghy and take our shoes off so we can pull
the dinghy into the water and row back to the boat. We see some seals swimming in the water near
us and pull the dinghy so it’s resting on the swim ladder so our watery friends
can’t make it their home.
The next morning, we leave this magical place for Becher Bay on
Santa Rosa island, the second largest island in the archipelago. The wind is from the northwest and we’re
able to sail all the way. As we enter
the bay, we find the blue sailboat with divers aboard. About the time we’re ready to drop the
anchor, the wind rises from thirteen to twenty knots with gusts over the
western headland to twenty seven. The
wind continues to howl and below, as we hear it through the rigging, it sounds
like a torrid winter storm out there rather than an evening in September. The boat, however, is amazingly still and
secure. We keep the instruments on and
use our AIS to measure our position in the water versus different points on
land. We’re secure.
The landscape of Santa Rosa is barren. This island at one time was used for cattle
ranching. Looking about, there’s much
dry brush and hills. It’s far too dry
for cattle or any other grazing land.
Perhaps a vineyard could make it here, but that’s about all.
Raising the sails, we set out for Santa Cruz, the largest of the
Channel Islands. Our books tell us
Painted Cave is worth checking out but that the nearest anchorage is more than
a mile away. We’re also advised not to
leave our boat at anchor to dinghy over to the caves. We opt for sailing by and checking out
whether we want to explore it singularly or continue on our way. We pass Arches Rock where wind and water have
worn a hole through a rocky ledge.
Painted Cave is nearby. We have
trouble spotting it, seeing a couple of different caves near the water’s edge
but nothing that is very impressive.
Carole and John from Morro Bay had suggested Fry’s Harbor or
Pelican Bay for anchorages on the north side of the island but we’ll check out
others as we head down the shoreline.
Consistently, first-hand knowledge of other sailors has proven better
guidance than books, but conditions do change through the years and the authors
have provided background and interesting historical information so we use them
to learn about what’s available to explore.
Lady Harbor and Little Lady Harbor
sound interesting, but as we pass them, they’re hardly harbors. Lady Harbor does have what could be a nice
beach, but getting through the narrow entrance and surge of the ocean looks
riskier than we’re willing to chance.
Little Lady Harbor is a narrow inlet with rocky outcroppings on either
side. There’s also a sandy shoal we’d
need to cross on one side, so we’ll pass on this as a potential anchorage
too. As we near Diablo Point and come up
to Diablo anchorage, there’s also significant surge into a not-to-deep
anchorage. We’d definitely need a stern
tie into the rocks on either side of the canyon to be safe.
At Fry’s Harbor, we Vision, an
eighty-foot diving boat out of Santa Barbara, is hugging the shore making
forcing us into a wide entry to get into the bay. There are diver’s down and people kayaking
here, seemingly oblivious to vessels like us coming in. All the boats here also have bow and stern
anchors. We’re not currently set up for
that, so after circling the bay and dropping one anchor to watch what’s going on. Two other boats come in and we decide this
place is too zoo-like for us to stay.
Hoping there’s not too much traffic this evening at Pelican Bay, we’ll
head there. It’s about three miles
further east, so we use the engine and run for it.
A half hour later we arrive to
find a small sailboat snugged in to the western shore. There’s no place to go to shore here, but we
head down to the opposite end of the bay and drop the anchor in twenty-nine
feet of water in while the wind comes up to around eighteen knots. That seems to typical phenomena: The wind accelerates as in comes down the
opposite hillside. We settle in, bearing
the rocking side-to-side as the wind drops and the boat experiences the swells
from the opposite direction. Luckily,
the wind eases off during the early evening and our night is comfortable. The next morning, Ian checks the weather
forecast and we decide to take a day to clean up the interior of the boat.
As I scrub walls, Ian follows me with buffing
compound and polish. We air out the boat
opening all the hatches and are rewarded with a sense of accomplishment and a
cleaner boat. We spend a second night in
Pelican Bay not unlike the first, knowing that after six days at anchor, we’ll be
spending the next three in Santa Barbara.
Santa
Barbara – 9/17 – 9/19:
We left Pelican Bay on Santa Cruz
late morning, hoping for the twelve-to-fifteen knot promised wind to carry us
over to Santa Barbara. It arrives about
an hour after we leave, but it finally arrives, enabling us to sail most of the
way. The closer we get to the entry, the
stronger the wind becomes. It’s late
Saturday afternoon and there are lots of small lasers, kayalers and SUPs making
it colorful and people-filled. We head
to the fuel dock and to the harbormaster’s office to get a slip assignment.
I haven’t been to Santa Barbara in
many years, and this is Ian’s first trip.
We’re both surprised that it’s built into a hillside. It has a waterfront where people are
strolling, running, walking, cycling, roller skating and sitting on benches
watching the world go by.
After the boat’s secured, we join the group taking a walk up to
the end of Stearn’s Wharf, where fishermen are casting their rods, others are
enjoying dinner and conversation, and still others browse through one of the
many souvenir shops. The sun will be
setting soon and there’s still a nippiness in the air. We decide to eat nearer the marina, finding a
sushi shop where crowds are waiting in line.
We order and grab and outside table and do some people watching.
While a simple meal, it suits our mood for this evening. We’re both just enjoying the beautiful
evening, still finding ourselves somewhat amazed that we’re in Santa
Barbara! We’d been at anchor for the
past six nights pretty much on our own.
It sometimes feels surreal to be surrounded by so many people, places
and structure whether that be buildings, time schedules, marina rules or other
artificial means by which boundaries are created.
We reached out to some friends and asked what’s ‘not to miss’ in
Santa Barbara. The number one answer we
got back was the Santa Barbara Mission.
From our marina to the Mission it’s about three-and-a-half miles. While there’s a trolley bus that could take
us there for only fifty cents, we decide to explore the downtown area by
walking up State Street and Alameda Park and more residential area on Calle
Santa Barbara about two blocks over running parallel to the downtown area. Ian was in bliss as he spotted Mac’s Fish
& Chips Shop next door to the Santa Barbara Brewing Company and
Restaurant. His dad was called Mac and
the family owned and operated a very good fish and chip shop in Masham,
England, when Ian was growing up!
Mission Santa Barbara is in the foothills, so we have an uphill
walk for part of the way. Arriving, it’s
an open area with a high, architecturally beautiful bell towers making it
cathedral-like in appearance. The
Mission was founded on the feast day of Saint Barbara as the tenth mission for
the religious conversion of the indigenous local Chumash Native American
people.
Mission Santa Barbara is somewhat controversial today as it’s the
only mission to remain under the leadership for the Franciscan Friars since its
founding. While the earthquakes of 1812
and 1925 did considerable damage, it’s been rebuilt four different times,
expanding in size. The appearance of the
inside, however, has not been significantly altered since 1820. It does command a sense of awe as we walked
through the grounds and inner church sanctuary.
I have mixed feelings, however, on its continued mission of
conversion of indigenous tribes in South America. That conversion eliminates cultures of native
peoples, their natural order and beliefs.
Is it our right to infer that our beliefs are superior to those of others
whose beliefs differ from our own?
Returning from the Mission, we ate
had a picnic in Alameda Park, admiring the artistry of winding paths, bridges,
and space. The park was busy with
children dressed as fairies, some complete with wings, finding wonderland
treasures throughout the landscape. Our granddaughter
would have had a great time here!
When you’re cruising, whenever you
come into port, one day needs to be set aside for the usual sort of chores one
has to do at home. Our usual list is
boat clean up, laundry, and restocking of the refrigerator. I try to keep fruit and vegetables on the
boat and those are usual things that need replenishment. I’m a big Trader
Joe fan, so finding that grocery store nearby always requires a visit.
We look like mountaineers as we walk along the waterfront with our
backpacks, using them for carrying groceries back to the boat. We not only get some exercise, but as we’re
disposing of packing materials, it’s always a conversation starter for someone
nearby. This time we met a 75-year old
woman, Helen, who swims in the ocean each day, followed by her coffee or tea
and a trip to do her daily grocery shopping.
She tells us a little bit about the area, that she and her husband
cruised the South Pacific when they were younger. She says that with fond memories but a bit of
regret that the boat is now long gone and they live on land.
After stowing the groceries, it’s another walk of almost a mile to
do the laundry. As we’re about ready to
leave, the man whose boat is on the other side of the dock approaches me and
says he sees we’re from Sammamish. He
shares that he and his wife, Jan, live in Gig Harbor! They’re on a 48’ custom Perry designed boat
and headed to San Diego and then on to do the BaHaHa. Their final
destination is La Paz, Mexico.
Chores done, we take a bottle of wine to Mark and Jan’s boat named
Capaz which Jan explains means
capable. They’ve owned this boat four
years and it’s made three trips to the South Pacific, and home of the Tuamotu islands for which our boat is
named. They ask if we plan to take her
there and as of today, we answer “No, but probably to La Paz next year.”
Mike is a retired United Airlines pilot and they lived in Santa
Barbara for seventeen years. They found
themselves coming to the Pacific Northwest to sail, falling in love with the
San Juan, Gulf Islands and South Sound area.
They’ll be heading for San Diego in a couple of weeks where they have
crew joining them for the each of the three 200-mile legs of the Baja Ha-Ha.
We share that we’re leaving the next day, returning to the eastern
end of Santa Cruz where we’ll anchor in either Scorpion or Smuggler’s Cove. We’ll use that as our launch point to
Catalina Harbor on the south side of Catalina Island. It’s about sixty miles so will be a long day.
We exchange information so we can keep track of each other on
marinetraffic.com. We’re hoping we can
see them in San Diego before they leave for Mexico. Again, one of the greatest benefits of travel
like this is meeting new people, and discovering someone who lives very near to
home.
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