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.

STUCK IN SANTA BARBARA

August 3, 2019

It was nice waking up in the slip on Saturday morning and even nicer to be able to go for a shower.  My friend, Midori, came to visit from Paso Robles.  She stopped by to see the boat and then we took off to do some shopping and have lunch.  It was nice to get off the boat.  We went back to the mesa to purchase electrolyte solution at Lazy Acres, eat a leisurely lunch at the Rose Café, and shop at the Von’s.

Motor Mount Too High

Rick stayed behind to construct a new mount for the outboard motor.  Rick’s daughter, Tracy, and her son were joining us for a barbecue.  Rick bought four (!) pounds of swordfish and shrimp on the way back from the lumber yard.   Our guests were originally due at 16:30 but arrived late and it soon became apparent that dinner would be late.  Midori had a long drive home and left us when she ran out of things to clean while waiting.

We eventually convinced Rick that even half of that fish was too much.  We nixed the barbecue idea, saved the shrimp for another day, and made some beautiful swordfish with lemon and butter sauce in the oven.  We gorged on fish and salad.  Davy helped Rick move the motor to the new mount while Tracy did the dishes.  Unfortunately, the stanchion supporting the motor mount was not strong enough to support the weight with such a high center of gravity.  It was clear that we couldn’t leave the motor there while underway.

It had been a tiring day and we were ready for bed by the time Tracy and Davy left us alone.

August 4, 2019

Foggy Morning in Santa Barbara

I got up early on Sunday and walked up State Street to a Starbuck’s for a cup of coffee.  It was cold and foggy.  I probably walked five miles, but I needed the exercise.  The madness of Fiesta seemed to have passed and Santa Barbara was quiet.  Hotel guests were loading their luggage into cars or heading for the train.  I wandered through the train station to check the schedule and it was very tempting to get on a train going anywhere.

Santa Barbara Amtrak Station

Rick was up when I returned to the boat and we spent the remainder of the morning doing our laundry.  Our slip was over a quarter mile from land and three quarters of a mile from the marina laundry.  We got more exercise lugging our clothes all the way there.  Dock carts were nowhere to be found.  When laundry was completed and stowed away, I spent the rest of the afternoon practicing the guitar.

Tasty Shrimp

We still had two pounds of shrimp to cook.  Rick barbecued about a third of them for appetizers, which we ate in the cockpit as soon as they were cooked.  He basted them with two different butter mixtures.  It was windy and they took longer to cook than shrimp usually do.  I cooked the remainder of the shrimp in a broth of white wine, butter, basil, cayenne, and garlic and served them with sourdough bread, pretending that I was at my favorite restaurant, Killer Shrimp.  They would have been better with a wine less sour than sauvignon blanc, but the flavor improved as the garlic permeated the stew.

I went to bed by 10:00 but I was out of melatonin and stayed up reading until 2:00.  It became clear that I needed to replenish my supply ASAP.

August 5, 2019

It was nearly noon before we managed to leave the boat on Monday.  Our goal was to walk to the Santa Barbara Library to use their WiFi.  We stopped at a Rite Aid for me to buy melatonin and then had frozen yogurt for lunch.  The library turned out to be at least three miles from the boat, so our walk was longer than expected. 

I worked on my blog posts and analyzed the upcoming weather for each potential leg of our journey.  It looked as if we might be able to head for Cojo on Sunday and round Point Conception on Monday, but it was really too soon to tell.  Weather prediction beyond three days was always a fantasy to some degree.  There did appear to be a change in the weather pattern approaching.  I hoped it would materialize.

By 17:00, we were both hungry so we left the library, stopped at CVS for Rick to buy allergy medicine, and then stopped by the Ralph’s for fruit, garlic, and ginger beer. We dropped by a pizza restaurant and split a slice of pizza to give us the energy to walk the three miles back to the boat.  

Back at the boat, we ate the leftover swordfish and shrimp for dinner with a side of salad.  I took my melatonin and went happily to sleep.

August 6, 2019

Most of our chores were done.  I walked up to shore and bought a few bags of ice for the dead refrigerator.  I analyzed the weather, again, when the forecast updated at noon.  There was no real change.  Then I worked on my blog.  I was going stir crazy and decided to take the Amtrak bus/train home for a few days.  The bus would depart Santa Barbara at 22:00 and arrive in Martinez the next morning.

The bus left at 22:00.  The shocks were bad and it was very bouncy.  I was sitting over the luggage compartment and the driver called the stops in a loud voice and slammed the luggage compartment door about once an hour.  We stopped in San Luis Obispo, Paso Robles, Salinas, San Jose and, even though I had a ticket for Oakland, Emeryville. 

August 7-9, 2019

Burned Out Pier in Port Costa

We arrived in Emeryville about 6:00 and I caught the Capitol Corridor train just after 7:00 to take me two more stops to Martinez.  At Martinez, I called an Uber who somehow got Ferry Street confused with the Vallejo Ferry and went there.  After waiting in vain for half an hour, the driver called me.  His English was so poor that I couldn’t understand him over the cell phone.  We mutually agreed to cancel the ride and I got a nice young woman who knew what she was doing to drive me home.

I spent Wednesday through Friday at home, doing chores, catching up on my blog, and dealing with correspondence.

CATALINA TO SANTA CRUZ ISLAND AND SANTA BARBARA

July 26, 2019

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.

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

We wanted to leave early the next morning, so decided to stow the dinghy beforehand.  There was a fair amount of surge in the anchorage making it difficult to hoist the engine back aboard using the boom without banging the dinghy into the heavy wooden boarding ladder.  The ladder wasn’t firmly affixed to the boat and the dinghy was in danger of knocking it off when it rose up under the bottom rung.  Getting the motor aboard was stressful but trying to carry it across the crowded cockpit to the mount on the other side was even worse.  Of course, the mount, which was held together with duct tape, disintegrated when we tried to slide the motor over it. Rick’s language got colorful and he learned the value of a good engine hoist.

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.

ENSENADA TO CATALINA ISLAND – CRUISING UNDER A JAMAICAN FLAG

July 19-21, 2019

Friday morning, I flew from Oakland to San Diego to make a second attempt at entering the United States on Scrimshaw.  I arrived in San Diego at 12:20 and made my way to city bus #992 after grabbing some lunch in the airport.  I didn’t have exact change for the bus, so I had to buy a Compass card from the ticket machine in the airport, which I loaded with a day pass for the San Diego MTS system for $5.00.  This allowed me to take the bus to the Santa Fe train depot where I caught the blue line trolley to the border.

Pathway to Mexico

Once at the border, I followed the pedestrian pathway across the border and through immigration.  I was pleased to be able to use the “Mexicans” line, as I am a legal resident of Mexico.  I flashed my Mexican ID and was waved through with a smile.  Once through the border, I walked to the right into Tijuana to the ABC bus station and caught a bus to Ensenada.  I had been told to get off at the first stop in Ensenada, as it was closer to the harbor.  It was closer to the shore, but probably not any shorter of a walk to the Cruiseport Marina.  I was hot and tired and ready for a beer when I finally arrived.

Rick had not received the Jamaican registry before I arrived.  FedEx was supposed to have delivered the package before 18:00, but they were unable to find the marina office.  Saturday morning at 9:00, Arturo from the marina office arrived to take us to immigration and the port captain’s office to check out of the country.  We were somewhat apprehensive about this process, due to our documents being a hodgepodge of different owners' names, none of which were current.  

Rick & Arturo at the Port Captain

Immigration went without a hitch.  Arturo knew everyone at the office and chatted with them about this and that while we kept our mouths shut and tried not to look nervous.  The port captain was having trouble with his system and was unable to print our exit documents.  He did not, however, seem to have any concern about our documents, took our fees, and issued us a receipt.  Arturo promised to come back at noon to pick up the documents and we returned to the boat.

We still had not received the package from Jamaica, so looked at the FedEx tracking to see where it had gone.  It seemed to have been returned to the local FedEx office.  Fortunately, the office was within walking distance, so we headed over there while we waited for Arturo to return with our exit documents.  Miraculously, the clerk found our package right away.  We breathed a big sigh of relief and returned to the boat to wait for Arturo.

Just when I had begun to think that Arturo had gone home for the day without completing our mission, he arrived with the exit documents.  He had not been able to cancel our Temporary Import Permit but promised to do so on Monday.  He seemed confident that he could do it without our participation.  This concerned me, but we went along with the plan because we had been advised to leave Mexico as soon as possible.

We wanted to leave on Sunday morning, but the weather was not conducive to motoring north.  We spent a leisurely day readying the boat for our journey north and went to bed early, so as to rise at 4:00 on Monday morning.

July 22, 2019

We wanted to get an early start so that we could arrive in San Diego during business hours.  We were also still a bit nervous about the ten customs agents that had arrived at the boat on Thursday before I arrived.  Rick had managed to satisfy their inquiries at the time, but we wanted to leave the country before they returned with more questions and wanted to be clear of the marina before they came back to work on Monday morning.

Leaving Ensenada

We got ready to leave and then discovered that the running lights were not operating.  It turned out the connector where the wires passed through the deck had gone bad.  Rick worked hard to diagnose the problem, but the lights still were not working when the sun rose.  We pulled out of the marina with the lights half repaired, intending to complete the repair underway.

Pod of Dolphins

Our passage to San Diego was quite uneventful.  There was almost no wind.  The fog cleared by noon and the skies were mostly blue.  We received notice that Arturo had successfully cancelled our Temporary Import Permit.  The paperwork nightmare was finally behind us.  We saw several pods of leaping dolphins along our way.  

When we finally reached the US border, we lowered the shredded Mexican courtesy flag and raised the crisp American one.  Then Rick quickly applied the new hailing port lettering to a metal plate and attached it to the rear of the davits.  We unfurled the Jamaican flag and headed for San Diego as a Jamaican vessel.

Rick Changing the Hailing Port

When it looked like we might not make it to the customs dock before dark, Rick resumed the repair of the running lights, running temporary wires along the outside of the bow pulpit.

We pulled into the customs dock as the sun sank low in the sky.  The customs agents arrived promptly, inspected the boat, and took our documents to their office.  We needed to report to the office in the morning to acquire our cruising permit and retrieve the documents.  Unfortunately, when we tried to obtain a slip for the night, there were none available.  I had been up since 1:30 in the morning and could barely see straight, so crawled into my bunk, hoping to get at least a few hours’ sleep before they threw us off the customs dock.  Unfortunately, no sooner had I crawled into my bunk than the harbor police arrived to roust us.  They were very rude and had Rick quite rattled.  I got dressed again and we pumped out the holding tank while I talked to the rude harbor police and finally determined that we could anchor outside the bay behind the Zuniga jetty.

We were tired and stressed out and it was very dark.  We made our way slowly back out the channel until we saw the light on the end of the jetty.  Then we made a U-turn and motored into the anchorage.  Very few of the boats anchored there displayed anchor lights, so it was somewhat creepy entering the anchorage.  We dropped the anchor fairly far from shore rather than try to wend our way through the field of boats.  We were tired and just wanted the day to end.

July 23, 2019

Anchored Outside San Diego Bay

Despite being anchored outside the bay, we spent a restful night.  I was able to make us a slip reservation online for that night but we had to wait until after check-out time before we could arrive at the marina.  This was frustrating because we were eager to get to customs and wanted to get into the slip before the wind came up.  We left the bay by 11:00 on the off chance that the occupant of our slip had left early.

Our slip was vacant but, unfortunately, the wind had already risen by the time we arrived.  We almost made it into the slip but weren’t close enough to the dock for me to jump ashore.  By the time Rick backed up to try again, the wind caught us and we wiped the port running light off on a piling on the way out of the slip.  We were in tight quarters and couldn’t bring the bow through the wind in the space available.  We blew to the back of the fairway and fetched up against the red painted side tie.  Scrimshaw virtually filled the space.  There was no way we could get out of there with the wind blowing.  We were a bit worried that the harbor police, who had been so rude the night before, might give us a hard time but the neighbors assured us that people parked there all the time to wait for the wind to die. 

We needed to get to customs to retrieve our documents and obtain our cruising permit, so I stayed with the boat while Rick went to the customs office.  No one bothered me.  Despite being recognized by the customs agents, Rick had no trouble paying the $19 to acquire a cruising permit.  He returned to the boat and we had other errands to do, but first we needed to get the boat into a slip.

One of our neighbors suggested that we call the office and arrange for a different slip.  Fortunately, there had been a cancellation and we were able to switch to a slip on the outside of the finger where we had more room to maneuver.  Still, we needed to get Scrimshaw out of the hole where we were stuck.  There wasn’t enough room ahead of us to turn the boat before running out of space. I tied a line to the stern cleat on the side away from the dock.  Some of our neighbors assisted us by pulling the starboard side of the boat towards the dock as Rick motored forward.  Slowly, the boat rotated into the wind.  Once we were pointed towards the exit, I flipped the line off the cleat and we were away.  We easily motored outside and around the finger where we had plenty of space to line the boat up with the slip and the wind even helped us by blowing us towards the dock, allowing me to disembark uneventfully.

We took Uber to West Marine and Home Depot and then ate dinner at the Olive Garden before walking across acres of parking lot to the Ralph’s to do our grocery shopping.  We seemed to need everything and, despite buying only one package of meat, managed to spend over $200 on groceries.  Another Uber deposited us back at the boat where we lugged our bags of groceries to the boat as the sun dipped in the sky.  Rick patched the running light back together so that we could leave first thing the next morning.

July 24, 2019

Sailing to Catalina

We had seventy-two miles to cover between San Diego and Avalon, so we were up and away at first light.  The channel seemed much shorter in the daylight than it had when we had negotiated it in the dark a couple of days before.  Once we were clear of the kelp forest off Point Loma, we put up sails and charged off towards Catalina.  It was a beautiful day and apparently the first time Rick had really sailed Scrimshaw.  He was very excited.  We made better than seven knots at times.  Still, it took us all day to get to the island.

By the time we wrestled the sails down (always a battle on Scrimshaw because the battens were missing and there were no lazy jacks) and approached the harbor it was 21:00 and dark.  We circled just outside the mooring field until the harbor patrol boat met us and gave us a mooring assignment.  He led us to the mooring but I know Rick was nervous as we threaded our way through the tightly packed boats.  He did an excellent job and we picked up the mooring and attached it without incident.  We poured a glass of wine and relaxed in the cockpit, enjoying the lights of Avalon.

July 25, 2019

There was no rush to get up on Thursday morning.  I was drinking tea in the cockpit at 9:00 when the harbor patrol arrived to put dye tabs in our holding tank to check for leaks.  This turned out to be a good thing as we were finally able to verify which of the multitudinous valves needed to be closed in order to direct all of the waste to the holding tank.  Apparently, the Y-valve leaked, so we had to close the through hull valve, as well, before we had a complete seal.  The harbor patrol woke Rick, but he was slow to get moving.  It was noon by the time we called the shore boat and then Rick wanted to visit the public showers before we ate breakfast.  We barely managed to get breakfast before the Pancake House closed its doors.

Avalon Harbor

We wanted to take a hike, so trudged up the steep streets to the trailhead.  Unfortunately, we somehow missed the visitor’s center where we would have obtained a permit.  When we arrived at the trailhead, we were already hot and sweaty, so decided to forego further hiking and just made a loop back down to the harbor via a different road, stopping to check out the Tower Chimes.  Many van loads of customers for the zip lines and rented golf carts full of tourists passed us the road.  They all looked at us like we were crazy for walking.

Scrimshaw Moored at Avalon

We stopped for a cold beer after we returned to town and then walked up to the full fledged Von’s supermarket to buy a few things before returning to the boat to make dinner.  Avalon was too busy for our tastes and we looked forward to continuing to Two Harbors in the morning.