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| Avalon |
The harbor patrol arrived by 8:30 to inform us that the
owners of the mooring would be arriving at 9:00 and we had better be gone
before then. We knew that checkout was
9:00, so were ready to depart.
We slipped the mooring, threaded our way out through the field of boats, and set off across calm seas towards the isthmus. It was only fourteen miles, so we arrived
before noon. It was a beautiful, sunny
day.
 |
| Isthmus Cove |
Isthmus Cove was not crowded and we took a mooring on the
east side where there were fewer boats.
We ate lunch and then called a shore boat to take us to land. Once ashore, we checked out the
facilities. The former picnic ground had
been converted to a restaurant with cabanas and a dive shop. The group picnic ground had been moved inland
behind the Harbor Reef restaurant.
Everything had been renovated and improved in the decades since I had
last visited, but the layout was the same.
 |
| Cat Harbor |
We walked across the isthmus to Cat Harbor and enjoyed the
scenery there for a spell. Then we
returned to the Harbor Reef where I was relieved to find that I could still get
a buffalo milk, although the $12 price tag about made me gag. There was a little bit left in the blender
and Rick asked the bar man if he could pour it into a shot glass so he could
taste it. The barman readily complied
and even topped it with whipped cream, nutmeg, and rum like a mini
cocktail. That made me feel better about
the exorbitant price.
We sat on the deck, enjoying our drinks and chatting, for an
hour and then visited the market to buy ice and parmesan cheese. Our refrigerator had died shortly after we
stocked up on food in San Diego and we were then using it as an icebox. A very relaxed harbor patrolman returned us
to Scrimshaw where we made dinner and drank a bottle of wine. We went to bed early, wanting to get an early
start for our passage to Malibu.
July 27, 2019
 |
| Approaching Malibu |
It was only thirty-seven miles from the isthmus to Paradise
Cove in Malibu, but we didn’t get a tremendously early start. No one arrived to chase us off the mooring by
9:00. When we did leave, we had a nice
sail. The wind increased as the day wore
on until I finally decided to put a reef in the main about 15:00. The forecast had been for twenty knot winds
as we approached Malibu, so I wanted to be conservative. We were already heeled enough that items were
starting to fly around below. No sooner
had we reefed than the wind dropped and changed direction. We went from seven knots to three knots
within a few minutes. We took the reef
out but still were progressing too slowly to reach our anchorage before
dark. We rolled up the jib and turned on
the motor.
 |
| My Bunk |
We arrived at Paradise Cove just in time to wrestle the sail
down and set the anchor before it grew dark.
Holding was good but there was a lot of surge.
It was difficult to cook dinner under those circumstances. My berth was very high and, therefore, rocked
more. I was always concerned that I
would be thrown out. I wasn’t but did
have a hard time falling asleep at first.
July 28, 2019
We were completely fogged in when we woke up on Sunday
morning. We only had to cover
twenty-eight miles to Oxnard, but some friends of ours were due to meet us
there at 16:00 and we needed to shower and do laundry before they arrived. We left the anchorage by 7:45, a near record
for us. We couldn’t even see the point
behind which we were anchored. We motored
north through the fog, relying entirely on the Navionics on my phone and
ringing the bell every minute as we went.
We saw only two boats the entire way and never did see the shore until
we passed the jetty at Port Hueneme.
Eventually, we squirted into the Channel Islands Harbor where the fog lifted enough to give us visibility at water level. We proceeded to the fuel dock and stopped there.
Eventually, we squirted into the Channel Islands Harbor where the fog lifted enough to give us visibility at water level. We proceeded to the fuel dock and stopped there.
 |
| Motoring to Oxnard in the Fog |
We wanted to fill both the fuel tanks so as to have enough
fuel for the rest of the journey. Each
tank held 150 gallons. Despite being
quite low, the port tank would only accept eleven gallons. The line that ran between the two tanks was
not serving to level the diesel between them despite both the valves being in
the open positions. We gave up and
attempted to fill the starboard tank. We
managed to fill that tank, but then realized that the fill was leaking and a
few liters of diesel had poured into the bilge.
We quickly shut off the bilge pumps with switches and disconnected the
wires from the batteries to halt the ones that were always on. Still, there was one bilge pump that would
have pumped diesel overboard if the level had risen much further. We eventually just cut the wires to that
pump. Then we used oil absorbing
material to mop up the spilled fuel, which had stopped leaking by that point. We never did manage to find the source of the
leak, although we suspected that it was near the fill, since the tank and fuel
lines did not seem to be leaking.
 |
| "Deluxe" Dock in Oxnard |
The fuel dock belonged to the Harbor Patrol and they were
rumored to be grouchy about boats remaining there too long. We grabbed a few bags of ice, paid the bill,
and motored across the channel to our slip at the Peninsula Yacht Marina. They had assigned us a 65’ slip on the main
channel and it was very easy to enter.
Some of our new neighbors arrived to take our lines, which prevented me
from having to make a flying leap to the dock.
The concrete of the slip was crumbling and it was lined with
buckets of water and caution tape to discourage sea lions. It looked like a construction zone. The electrical outlet was dodgy, as well,
although the third one we tried actually did work after we repositioned the
boat in the slip to allow the cord to reach.
Quickly, we headed to the office to check in and take showers.
Doing laundry turned out to be the most difficult part. The marina shared laundry rooms with the
neighboring apartment complex. The
complex was huge and stretched for several blocks. It boasted four laundry rooms. Unfortunately, the machines didn’t take coins
or credit cards and, while the marina office had informed us that we would need
to buy a special card for $5 and then load that with money to pay for the
machines, they had incorrectly told us that we could buy the card in one of the
laundry rooms. We dragged three loads of
laundry from laundry room to laundry room before determining that we could not buy a card in any of them.
No one we encountered actually lived in the complex but
someone eventually suggested I walk across the parking lot to the leasing
office where I finally found the vending machine. We then dragged all our laundry back to the
first laundry room and started the washers.
Rick left me with the laundry and returned to the boat to greet his
cousin and my friend, Tom, when he arrived.
The rest of our friends had been discouraged by the cold, foggy, weather
and decided to remain at home.
Tom arrived bearing a fabulous array of cheeses, crackers,
steaks, and wine. He also brought us a
working boat barbecue. I made a salad
and we had a fabulous steak dinner and stayed up late into the night, talking
and drinking wine. Tom spent the night
on the boat with us.
July 29. 2019
Rick’s daughter, Tracy, and her husband were due to arrive
at the boat before 9:00 so we rose early.
Her in-laws had given them a ride to the boat and they were kind enough
to take Rick to the pharmacy and the propane dealer to refill our propane
tanks. I had thought we would need to go
grocery shopping, but Tracy brought enough food to last us for the duration of
our trip to the island. I emptied the
garbage and filled the water tanks while I waited for Rick to return.
When Rick got back, we thought we were going to make a quick
getaway until Rick checked the bilges and discovered water running in a steady
stream from the packing gland. I didn’t
feel comfortable taking the boat far from shore with water pouring into the
boat and, for an hour or so, we thought we were going to have to take the boat
straight to a yard to be hauled out.
Fortunately, Tracy’s husband, Jim, was a mechanic and he was eventually
able to tighten the nut sufficiently to stop the leak. At 13:30, we finally left to make the
twenty-eight mile crossing to Pelican Bay.
 |
| Oil Platform in the Santa Barbara Channel |
It was still overcast, but the fog had lifted enough for us
to see at water level. The wind was
already up and, of course, it was hitting us dead on the nose. We raised the main and tacked our way towards
our destination. We went fast at first
but then went slower and slower as the seas grew larger. The sail kept us stable and we weren’t heeled
excessively but spray drenched us continually as we bashed into what grew to six
foot seas. We slowed from six knots to
four and a half and then to three and a half until we neared the island and got
some shelter from the swell. We finally
arrived in Pelican Bay about 19:00.
 |
| Jim on the Foredeck in Pelican Bay |
I had been in Pelican Bay in 1995 on a Cal 30. It seemed much larger at the time. We were the only boat there, but I was
dismayed to discover that the anchorage was very steep. If I put out enough scope to feel
comfortable, we were in danger of drifting into the cliffs that surrounded the
cove. On my previous visit, we had put
out a stern anchor but Scrimshaw wasn’t set up to do that and we were
cold, damp, and hungry. We finally
anchored in the middle of the cove in thirty-five feet of water with 5 to 1
scope. This didn’t tuck us very far into
the anchorage and we bobbed badly. It
was the best we could do at the time.
Rick made salad and tortellini with pesto and I, who had
been promoted to captain with the arrival of additional crew, collapsed into my
bunk straight after dinner. I was
regretting staying up late with Tom the night before, but I had needed to blow
off steam and Tom’s company was a balm to my frazzled nerves.
July 30, 2019
 |
| Relaxing in Pelican Bay |
We were still rocking badly when we got up on Tuesday
morning, but the anchor had held and we hadn’t hit the wall. Rick slept late and the rest of us lounged
about the boat. I spent a large part of
the day catching up on ten days’ worth of blog entries. It was too rough to think about launching the
dinghy and Jim was itching to go ashore.
He fished from the deck but had no luck.
By mid-afternoon, we decided to move three miles up the
shore to Fry’s anchorage. It was pretty
wild once we left the anchorage. The
seas were six to eight feet and squeezed up to taller heights around the
points. We found Fry’s occupied by a
powerboat anchored in the middle of the cove with a single anchor. We could not have improved our situation by
anchoring in the remaining space. We
decided to turn around and head back to Prisoner’s where the water was
shallower and there was more space to swing.
First, however, we needed to turn around in the rough seas without
broaching. We watched the wave sets and
then flipped a quick U-turn during a lull.
Once around, we flew back down the coast to Prisoner’s. At Prisoner’s, we were able to anchor in the
middle of a wide bay in twenty feet of water where I could put out seven to one
scope without fear of hitting anything.
There was only one other boat in the harbor and they were anchored close
inshore. We rocked a bit, but I breathed
a sigh of relief to have so much space around us.
 |
| Prisoner's Harbor |
We barbecued chicken and made rice and salad for dinner. The sky was very dark and we could see the
milky way. I would have liked to stay on
deck and watch the meteor shower that was supposed to occur that night but it
was too cold and windy for me and I quickly retired.
July 31, 2019
Jim was determined to go ashore so we had agreed to get up
at six and launch the dinghy while it was calm.
It was chilly at six but we heated water for tea and coffee and the day warmed quickly as the sun rose in the sky.
Jim and I dropped the dinghy down from the davits and I climbed down the
rickety stern ladder to release the shackles.
Once the dinghy was secured to the side of the boat, Jim pumped up the
pontoons while I rigged a block and tackle and a lifting harness for the
outboard. We used the boom as a crane
and lowered the motor into the dinghy where Jim secured it to the stern of the
dinghy.
 |
| Hiking to Pelican Bay |
 |
| Ranger Launching a Skiff from Prisoner's Pier |
By 8:30, after a brief delay for Rick to eat a bowl of granola, we dropped into the dinghy and headed for shore. A dinghy landing alongside the pier allowed us to arrive on shore with dry feet and provided us with a safe place to tie up the dinghy. We climbed up the hillside to a small visitor center and then headed down the trail towards Pelican Bay. I had been cooped up on the boat for what seemed like weeks and needed to get some exercise. I left the others behind and hiked rapidly towards Pelican Bay. I walked until I had a clear view of the anchorage and then, not knowing if the rest of them were behind me or not, ran back about half a mile until I met Jim. He and I continued back until we encountered Tracy and her dad who had stopped along the way.
 |
| Tracy & Jim Fishing |
 |
| Rick, Me & Tracy on the Pier |
The four of us strolled the rest of the way back to the pier
and returned to the boat. Rick and I
took naps while Tracy and Jim took the dinghy to shore to fish. Later, we made burritos for dinner and Tracy and Jim fished some more.
August 1, 2019
 |
| Hiking on Santa Cruz Island |
Tracy and Jim wanted to go to shore to fish and I was dying
for a hike so, after a leisurely breakfast, we dropped Tracy and Jim off on
some rocks along the shore and then took the dinghy to the dock. Rick and I hiked two-and-a-half miles
straight up to the top of the ridge to look over to the other side of the
island. Then, concerned that Tracy and
Jim might be baking in the sun, we hurried back to the dinghy and went to pick
them up. Our timing was perfect and they
were just ready to go. We went back to
the boat and spent most of the afternoon relaxing.
 |
| The Far Side of the Island |
 |
| Fields of Fennel |
Raising the dinghy on the davits went slightly better, although poor Jim had to risk his life on the flimsy stern ladder which was also in danger of being knocked loose by the heaving dinghy. He scampered up the ladder post haste. After that procedure, we all needed a beer and a little downtime before starting dinner. Later, we made spaghetti for dinner and ate it with salad and the leftovers from earlier dinners.
August 2, 2019
We got up early and pulled up the hook by 7:45. We wanted to
get across the channel before it got too rough.
We had good wind, at first, and were able to kill the motor and sail at
seven knots. The wind dropped as we
reached about the center of the crossing.
We sailed slower and slower and finally had to turn the motor back on
when our speed dropped to three knots.
It was foggy near shore, but visibility was okay at water level.
 |
| Oil Platforms and Fog in the Santa Barabara Channel |
Santa Barbara doesn’t take slip reservations but, when we
approached the harbor, we were able to get a slip assignment on the outermost
finger which would have made for an easy landing if they hadn’t parked a dredge
in our path. Still, we managed to make a
reasonable landing, although there was so much junk on the dock that I could
barely disembark to take the lines.
Tracy’s son, Davy, soon arrived to take his parents home and
I, desperate to improve my personal hygiene, grabbed a quick shower and caught
a ride with them up to the mesa where I got a haircut at Fantastic Sam’s. It was wonderful to have an afternoon free
from responsibility. After my haircut, I
treated myself to a proper lunch at Taco Bell.
I tried to get my nails done but, despite there being only one client in
the salon, they claimed to be too busy to take me. I then walked a few miles down the hill and
along the shore to State Street.
 |
| Fiesta in Santa Barbara |
 |
| Confetti Littered the Ground |
Santa Barbara was holding Fiesta and a parade had just gone
through. People thronged the streets
which were littered with confetti.
Everyone was partying and it seemed like a cross between Cinco de Mayo
and Mardi Gras. I wove between the
revelers for eight blocks until I found a nail salon where I could get my nails
done. Once my nails were repaired, I
walked a bit further up to the bank to get cash and then started back to the
boat. Every bar had a loud band playing
and the noise was incredible. I couldn’t
hear a thing.
When I finally got to the path along the waterfront, I
checked my phone. There was a message
from Rick saying that we were in the wrong slip and needed to move ASAP. I practically sprinted the last mile back to
the boat, fortunately arriving before the slip tenants returned. By that time, the wind had come up and,
because there was a dredge parked behind us and we couldn’t back straight out,
we wiped the starboard running light off on a piling as we exited. Now, it matched the port one. There was a lot of traffic and we ended up
needing to leave the harbor to find room to make a U-turn.
 |
| Santa Barbara Harbor |
Our arrival in the correct slip wasn’t much prettier than
our departure. We barely got far enough
into the slip for me to jump to the dock before the wind caught the bow and it
swung towards the other boat in the slip.
I got the midships line on a cleat, but Rick ran to fend off the other
boat without passing me the bowline.
Without the bowline, there was nothing I could do to correct the
situation. We sat there for several
minutes before I was able to convince him to throw me the line. Then, I bodily hauled 38,000 pounds of boat
into the slip. I needed a beer after
that. Actually, I needed a lot more than
that. I needed dinner out.
Despite already having walked six miles, we set off to walk
to a Thai restaurant a couple of miles away.
It was dark by the time we arrived and we took an interesting route
through a rough neighborhood where homeless were camped under the freeway. Despite having won many awards, the food at
Your Place turned out to be pretty mediocre and not very warm.
Still, we got to sit down and we didn’t have to cook or clean up. We took Lyft back to the boat. We had hoped to get dessert somewhere in the
harbor but none of the restaurants open at that hour served dessert. We returned to the boat and had brandy and a
piece of chocolate for dessert.
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