SANTA BARBARA TO REDWOOD CITY

August 10, 2019

Saturday morning, I caught the Coast Starlight from Martinez to Santa Barbara.  The train was about twenty minutes late but left just before 8:00.  The train was much more comfortable than the bus had been.  I spent a pleasant morning in my seat and then ate baked chilaquiles in the dining car for lunch.

Burned Out Pier in Port Costa

We were still half an hour late when we reached Paso Robles, but somehow managed to make up the time.  We actually arrived in Santa Barbara ten minutes early.  Curt and Midori met me at the train and we stopped for a quick meal at the Brewhouse, where the food was much better than we anticipated.

Salt Ponds in Newark

Fields in Salinas

Point Conception Looked Calm

Brad had arrived at the boat before us and we found him on the bow with Rick, organizing the anchor rode for the second anchor.  Before it got dark, we hoisted the dinghy onto the foredeck for the trip north.  The dinghy swung wildly from the davits and I was afraid the blocks would chafe through the Hypalon or the davits would break if we left it hanging as we rounded Point Conception.

I had checked the weather again at noon and it still looked like 2:00 would be the best time to depart.  We went to bed before 22:00 to try to get some sleep before we left.

August 11, 2019

I awoke at 1:00 and couldn’t get back to sleep.  About 1:20, I got up and went to the marina head to check out the weather.  It was very calm.  I roused Rick and the others when I returned to the boat.  We dressed, made coffee, and made ready to leave.  By 2:00, we eased out of the slip.  It was still quite calm and Rick had no trouble exiting the slip, turning the boat to dodge the dredge, and sliding out the channel.  The water was almost glassy.  We followed the channel to the last buoy and then made a right turn and followed the coast, staying at least a mile offshore.

Dawn Off the Santa Barbara Coast

Rick took his pills and went to sleep and Brad went below for a nap.  Curt and I motored west under a bright moon until it set.  It remained calm and we made at least five knots.  An oil platform off Coal Oil Point was lit up like a Christmas tree and we had to dodge around it.  A service pier on the point was also well lit.  We threaded between them and returned to our course.

Fog Hanging Over the Hills

Brad got up at 5:30 to join us.  They sky was lightening by that time.  It stayed completely calm until almost 8:00 and we made good time.  The wind built gradually, but the seas remained flat.  As we approached the Cojo anchorage, we kept an eye out for the railroad culvert that indicated the best place to anchor.  Unfortunately, there were two culverts.  We anchored in twenty feet off the first one.  There was a lot of kelp and we didn’t feel secure about the holding.  We could see a boat anchored further on and, after comparing the geography with a photograph of the anchorage, decided we were in the wrong place.  We pulled up the anchor and continued.  Unfortunately, the handle for the windlass must have gone overboard because we couldn’t find it.  Luckily, the handle for the manual bilge pump fit.  Brad attached a safety line to it before pressing it into service.

The Cojo Anchorage

There was a lot of kelp between where we had anchored and where we wanted to go.  We threaded our way between kelp patches, feeling like we were picking our way through icebergs.  The full keeled hull slid easily through the kelp and we didn’t snag any.  We finally anchored in twenty-five feet of water over a sand bottom off the correct railroad culvert.  We could see Point Conception, but it was amazingly calm in the anchorage.

Rick woke up just as we finished anchoring and wondered why the motor was off.  He was surprised to learn we had arrived.  He went back to bed.   I made scrambled eggs and then the rest of us took a long nap.

I woke up at 13:00 when the wind started to blow.  The main halyard was slapping on the mast and I got up to silence it.  Rick had just lost his hat overboard while heading to do the same.  It blew hard all afternoon, easily reaching thirty knots in the anchorage.  We sailed around our anchor, but it held.  The water stayed mostly flat, considering the wind.

Oddly, the wind dropped considerably by dinnertime.  Rick had bought a roast chicken and he baked potatoes and made vegetables and salad to go with it.  We had a very peaceful dinner and hoped for an early departure.  By 21:00, we were all asleep, storing up rest for a long night ahead.

While the wind had abated considerably by 18:00, it never dropped enough to encourage us to leave.  I got up at 23:00 and sat in the companionway, listening to my crewmates snore, and watching the wind.  At 23:30, I finally screwed up the courage to wake the crew and announce our departure.

August 12. 2019

We pulled out of Cojo anchorage at midnight.  I had raised the main and put in the second reef before we pulled the anchor, as we couldn’t have motored into the wind to raise the sail without hitting the shore and I didn’t want to do it in the larger swell outside the anchorage.  We had a nearly full moon and the wind was light.  It got a little bumpy once we left the shelter of Point Conception, but the seas weren’t bad.  We were making better than four knots and I was happy with our progress.  The wind stayed light and the moon soon set.  It was very dark.  The seas got a little larger as we approached Point Arguello, but didn’t get disturbing until we rounded the point and began to head north.

There was almost no wind, but we were taking six foot seas on the beam and rolled badly.  Despite triple latches, cabinets kept popping open.  We almost lost the microwave and did break one of the bowls that had been stored above it.  I was constantly ducking below to stuff spacers behind banging objects or return flying missiles to their proper homes.

Our Messy Sail

Past Point Arguello, it began to get light but was very foggy.  We slogged along through the morning.  Sometime about noon, I looked up and realized that the line securing the second reef had broken and the sail was billowing in the wind.  I rousted Brad and, together, we put in the third reef.  The sail had no ties to secure the reef, so we struggled to insert sail ties through the holes and bundle the sail as best we could.  The boom was swinging, the cabin top was wet and slippery, and we had nothing to hang onto.  It was a nerve wracking few minutes until we got the sail controlled and were able to return to the cockpit.  Rick had awakened during the process and was watching our acrobatics with a stunned expression on his face.

Moored in Port San Luis

Port San Luis was right where it was supposed to be, and we arrived at 13:00 on schedule.  Rick called the harbormaster and secured a mooring just inside the breakwater.  We were able to drop the rest of the main once we passed the breakwater and, for the first time, flaked the sail without drama.  The $17 fee, collected by the harbor patrol water taxi, saved us the hassle of anchoring and we were grateful for its security while we ate some lunch, cleaned up as best we could, and finally fell asleep.

Everyone was awake by dinner and Rick made us kung pao chicken, rice, and salad for dinner.  We shared a bottle of Cabernet and sacked out about 21:00 in anticipation of an early start the next morning.

August 13, 2019

We arose at 4:30 and made ready to leave.  It was very cold, wet, and dark.  Although the only things we needed to do were raise the main and slip the mooring, it was 5:30 before we left.  It was so foggy that the only things we could see were the channel markers leading further inshore and the anchor light of the ketch moored alongside us.  We plotted a compass course to clear the invisible breakwater and steamed out of the harbor.  We saw a dim outline of the jetty as we passed into open water.  Soon, we turned right and made for San Simeon.

Dawn was a non-event.  It was too foggy to even find the sun.  We navigated by chart plotter and radar alone.  I soon went below, leaving Brad and Rick on watch.  I came back up to take my watch at 7:30. We were running staggered watches so that fresh eyes came on deck every two hours.  It was very cold and wet.  I felt like I was in Alaska.

Sailing into the Fog

We made better than five knots as we headed across Estero Bay. The seas were every bit as large as the day before, but we were taking them on the nose and didn’t roll as badly.  Halfway across the bay, the seas subsided significantly and the passage continued pleasantly.  When we were three miles offshore, we decided to pump out the holding tank.  Rick went below to turn on the macerator pump, but it only blew the breaker and no effluent appeared behind the boat.  This was disappointing.  Brad had experienced a similar problem with his boat and offered to help Rick troubleshoot once Rick came off watch at 9:30. It turned out that Rick had forgotten to open the through-hull.  The pump worked fine and we managed to empty the tank just as we crossed back inside the three mile line.

We passed Morro Bay without seeing any trace of the rock.  It grew warmer and drier but visibility never improved enough to see the shore.  I went off watch at 11:30 and went below to make soup and write for an hour before we arrived at San Simeon.

Anchored Off San Simeon Pier 

We arrived at San Simeon at 13:00.  It was still too foggy to see the shore.  We skirted the kelp bed stretching out from the point and anchored in twenty-five feet of water off the end of the pier that occasionally loomed out of the fog.  We napped away the afternoon and then Rick made us an excellent dinner of swordfish in lemon sauce before we set off on the long leg past Big Sur and on as far as the weather would take us.  Curt, Brad, and I finally managed to tame the wayward main sail and cinch down the third reef.  I replaced the shackle securing the topping lift to the boom with a smooth carabiner, since it was my theory that the shackle pin had been what chafed through the second reef.  The wind stayed light all day and the sun finally came out in the late afternoon.

San Simeon

Hearst Castle on the Hill

Full Moon at Sea

It was still clear when we left San Simeon at 21:00.  Brad had the first two hours and I tried to sleep in the forward cabin but it was too rough and noisy up there.  I came on at 23:00.  There was a full moon and it was a gorgeous night until about 1:00 when we started to see patchy fog.  Rick completed his four-hour watch and then went below to sleep.

August 14, 2019

The Fog Dripped on Everything

The fog persisted and eventually set in with a vengeance.  Water dripped from the bimini and sloshed around the cockpit.  Everything was wet and the chart plotter we used for a depth gauge kept cutting in and out.  The wind stayed light and the seas weren’t bad, but it was cold and wet out there.  Curt had come on at 1:00.  Brad took over from me at 3:00 and I went below and slept in the main salon.  We pressed on through the fog.

About 5:00, I was awakened by the sound of laughter.  Brad had been hit in the head by a falling shackle pin and, just as he was wondering what had hit him, the shackle fell into his hood.  We never did identify where it came from.  Our best guess was that it had been lost under the solar panels and worked it’s way out during our passage.

When I came back on deck at 7:00, Curt had been out in the cold for six hours.  Sedated by his medication, Rick could not be roused for his watch at 5:00 and Curt had stayed up to keep Brad company.  He went to bed once I vacated the main salon.

Curt at the Helm

Rick woke shortly after I took the watch and he took Curt’s next watch so that Curt could sleep for six hours.  We passed Big Sur about 8:00 in the morning.  Wind and seas stayed calm, but the fog never lifted.  We missed all the spectacular scenery.

I had downloaded a weather report as we neared Point Lobos and everything looked good so we skipped Monterey and headed for Pillar Point.  All day long, we bashed across Monterey Bay.  The wind was light, but the swells were large.  Our speed dropped from 4.5 to 5 knots to 3.5 knots and finally to 2.5 knots towards the end of the day.  The weather looked good all the way into San Francisco Bay, but we had to arrive at the Golden Gate during a slack or flood tide.  If we missed the window, we would have to stop at Pillar Point.  That harbor is flanked by reefs and I did not relish the idea of entering it for the first time on a dark, foggy night.

Fortunately, the wind and seas abated as it grew dark and we closed with the shore on the other side of Monterey Bay.  We had tortellini with pesto for dinner.  The fog finally cleared and we had a beautiful full moon as we skated up the coast.  Our speed increased to five knots and we made up lost time.  By the time I checked the weather again at midnight, it looked like we would arrive at the gate right on schedule.

August 15, 2019

I went off watch at 3:00, just as we passed Pillar Point.  There was no fog and we could see the harbor clearly but saw no reason to stop.  The weather was on our side and it seemed prudent to press on.  I told Brad to wake me when we reached Fort Funston, as I wanted to be up to see that we took the proper path past the dangerous shoreline around the entrance to the bay.

Brad, Curt & Rick - the Intrepid Crew

Brad woke me just as the sun was rising.  Soon, we were all up for the excitement of sailing under the Golden Gate.  There was almost no wind, but the tide was slack and the swells were large.  We rolled mightily but pressed on steadily.  Brad and Curt had never sailed under the gate before and took lots of photos.  They fired non-stop questions at me as I acted as both captain and tour guide.  We sailed along the city front, past Alcatraz, turned the corner at Pier 39, and headed south.  The flood was in full gear and we charged along at nearly eight knots.

The Golden Gate at Dawn

Passing Under the Gate

                                                                                                                                                                                             

Rounding North Point

After dodging the commuter ferries at the Ferry Building, we continued south past Hunter’s Point and finally entered the channel leading through the San Mateo Bridge.  We made amazingly good time with the flood pushing us along.  I had to remind Rick to slow

down when we entered Redwood Creek because we were doing eight knots.  That was much too fast for a narrow, tricky channel.  The entrance to Redwood Creek was crowded with rowing sculls, none of whom seemed to know what they were doing.  The harbor police finally came out and chased them all back towards shore.

The Channel into Redwood Creek

We followed the buoys up the creek and then turned into Westpoint Slough at green buoy 13.  The deep part of the channel was on the far side of the center line, closest to the broken concrete dock at the entrance.  We stopped there to determine which slip was ours and then continued a short distance to the marina entrance, entering our slip without damaging anything.

The marina was new and nice, with many, many large slips.  It seemed to me to have been constructed with tech millionaires in mind.  There were even a couple of mega-yacht slips, one of which was occupied.  The facilities were new and attractive and the staff had been very helpful.  They had even left us a restroom key in the dock box.

We arrived just before noon.  We showered, ate lunch, and then went down for naps since most of us had been up all night.  Rick stayed up to check in when the staff returned from lunch and then napped, himself.

The plan was for Rick to go home after dinner and then come back in the morning to take the rest of us to my place.  I started dinner after I woke up about 17:00.  I made salad and then heated frozen lasagna.  We shared a bottle of celebratory champagne and then followed that with a couple of bottles of red.  Rick departed when we ran out of wine about 21:00 and the rest of us were soon asleep, glad to have the delivery behind us.

August 16.2019

Dawn at the Westpoint Marina

Not used to sleeping for long stretches, I was awake by 4:30 and finally got up about 6:00.  It was already showing signs of being a warm day and I felt as if I had suddenly sailed into summer.  I went to shore for a shower and met Brad meandering groggily up the dock as I returned.  Curt was up when I climbed aboard and we made coffee.

After Brad’s return, I made a roast beef and cheese omelet for breakfast and then we packed and scrubbed down the boat.  Rick texted at 9:00 that his car battery was charged and he was reinstalling the back seats, but he still hadn’t appeared by 11:00 when I pulled out my laptop to write.

Westpoint Marina Office and Restrooms

Scrimshaw in Her New Home

Rick appeared by early afternoon and we loaded all our gear into his Suburu wagon for the drive to Benicia.  Brad had heard so much about my remodeling projects that he wanted to see the house and Curt's wife, Midori, was meeting them there to give them a ride back south.
Rick had things to do in San Francisco, so said his goodbyes once he dropped us off at my house.  The rest of us headed downtown for lunch at the First Street Cafe and a quick tour of the town.  Brad wanted to explore some more, but Curt and I were tired and headed home to take naps.  We reconvened at Lucca's Beer Garden when the live music started at 18:30.

We had a great time drinking beer, listening to music, and chatting with friends new and old.  Lucca's was crowded and we shared a table with two women I didn't know and a couple of friends I did.  By 20:30, we were hungry and moved up the street to Elviarita's for a mountain of carnitas nachos that we could barely finish between the three of us.  We were home by 21:30 and asleep long before Midori arrived.  After weeks on the boat, it seemed like a wild night on the town and a fitting end to our adventures.