The final push: San Diego to Richmond, 6/19-7/8/11

Our first full day in San Diego was Father’s Day, so after a well-deserved sleep we wandered off in search of brunch and found one at Silvergate YC, where we were planning on moving the boat later.  Brunch and service were great, so we waddled off to West Marine where Patti and the boys wanted to get Jan something special – a Davis sextant, complete with water sight for practicing on dry land.  As Jan commented, “you know this means we have to do some blue-water sailing now, this won’t be much use in the Delta!”

On the way back we stopped at a parking lot sale and Jan bought a small well-made parachute drogue (for heavy weather survival) and Patti and boys got great jackets and t-shirts.

The next day Patti came down with a cold, Jan was doing PG&E work in the morning when a man had a massive heart attack at the bottom of the ramp.  Everyone turned out to help (Jan went to the marina office to get the IED), but after continuous CPR and many attempts with the defibrillator even the EMTs could not revive him; he seemed to have lived pretty hard.  Put quite a pall on the day, only enlivened by finding surplus Acer laptops for $300 each at Best Buy, of which we ordered three.

With Patti still under the weather in the morning, Jan and the boys headed off on the bus to Sea World, where we had a good if tiring time.  It was a bit too commercial for us, and we started laughing at the gift store at the exit to all the exhibits, but the animals and fish were indeed impressive, as was the clowning/acrobatic show and of course the finale with Shamu and friends.  Here are some of the pictures we took there…

Our Richmond neighbor Carson Fuller picked us up afterwards and joined us for dinner on board.  Carson is studying at UCSD and was looking for an internship; I invited him to crew on the first leg up from San Diego but in the end he needed to stay back and work.  But it was great to see the “kid” who once babysat for T&V out in the world.

Wednesday was laundry and boat-cleaning day, Patti still sick and others needing to rest a bit.  And Thursday was supposed to be the day Patti took the boys to the zoo, but it turned into another boys day out – this cold refused to die!

We all liked the zoo better than Sea World, and I think we saw just about every critter in the place, took the Skyride gondola, walked up a broken moving sidewalk, the whole works.  Stopped at food and drug stores on the way back, ate something for dinner, and collapsed.  Next day was cleaning, sorting, packing and resting; Jan still working out details of his northerly passage as crew availability was ebbing and flowing every day.

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday we all piled into a taxi to get Patti and the boys to the Coast Starlight train.  We had to re-pack to get down to three checked pieces of luggage each plus two carry-ons, and this was repeated in LA when they switched trains and discovered that there was no such thing as baggage checked to Richmond.  But the train ride itself was fantastic, a great way to travel.

Jan took a while to get used to being alone on the boat, after provisioning and boat tasks he was feeling pretty lonely so tried to eat dinner at the club, but all the tables were either completely full or empty, and nobody seemed terribly friendly so he wandered back to eat leftovers – but met another guy who had the same experience and we made a date to have dinner the following night at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place.  Still searching for a swaging tool to fix the boom lift with, but at least hooked up the AIS and it seemed to work.

Monday morning finally borrowed the tool from a boatyard; made a final trip to West Marine; and met Chris Levaggi who mercifully picked me up outside WM, those walks back and forth from the club were getting to be a pain. Discovered that I had swaged the end of the wire before threading it through the sheave at the end of the boom, you can guess there was a sixteenth too little clearance. Wot the ell, we’ll fix it later.

Motorsail to Oceanside was uneventful, except that we intercepted a Beneteau 36 that was heading south and running low on fuel.  By the time we got to them their saildrive was acting up too, so they may have spent a very long night wallowing around anyway, but at least: 1) they had a 5-gal jerry jug to get them to SD or use in the future for emergencies, 2) I had one less jerry jug to store in the garage when we got home, and 3) I had $40 cash which they taped to a water bottle and tossed aboard after we had effected the rope-aided transfer.  Chris treated me to a nice dinner, and the berthing was free – at last those reciprocal privileges are starting to pay off.

Tuesday Chris and I finally fixed the boom lift for real, then headed off for Long Beach.  AIS proved handy, if nothing else to identify and allow me to radio a Hunter 41 that turned out to be on their maiden voyage but was hoping to do the HaHa in a few years (presumably with her owners ;-)  So I passed on tips about the passage down and Mexico; they passed on tips about the Channel Islands.  Dins at LBYC, this time dutch.

Next day was a long one, 68 miles to Pacific Corinthian in Channel Islands Harbor.  This time the AIS was useful to identify and actually tell me the speed and rate of turn of a big green container ship heading out of Port of Long Beach.  I was really appreciating Chris’ wonderful stories and extensive contacts from recycling/composting, windsurfing and bicycling circles.  We went past a lot of kite-surfers on the way up, and took this shot for David and Angie.

Pacific Corinthian is a very ritzy club, Chris and I lolled about the pool and hot tub when we weren’t advising David and Angie on what to procure when they drove into town.  They not only brought enough food for a small army, but also picked up Brian Fahey’s Guide to Central and Southern CA 10 minutes after I located a copy in a Barnes and Noble just off the freeway.  Just-in-time inventory control!

It was great to have D&A back aboard, and we chatted merrily on the way out to the Islands, while David designed circuit boards or debugged software using his cellphone’s internet connection.  Even I don’t do PG&E work underway!

We ended up at the famous Smugglers Cove, which is a large and inviting bay on the south side of Santa Cruz island. There used to be extensive olive groves there, and there is still a nice collection of buildings which we visited the next morning.  The real treat was seeing a Channel Islands fox loping across the path, though the views from the top of the hill weren’t too shabby either.  (A red fox trotted through the grove of trees where I was waiting with the groom’s party on our wedding day in 1997; that seemed a pretty good omen too!)  David and Chris tried to get us some fresh citrus, but all the fruit that hadn’t been severely pecked was unripe.  Oh well…

We were aiming for Caleta Prietas (black pigs) anchorage, but it was PACKED on July 4th weekend so we squeezed into Albert’s next door, which turned out to be a very sweet spot.  Visited the other two boats in Nano and they were SO appreciative, apparently nobody does that in America. Somehow we ended up with a baby octopus in the dink, and spent a few minutes happily photographing him and videotaping his attempts to climb the slick sides before releasing him to his element.

 

The other boats gushed so about Painted Cave that we determined to swing by on our way north the next day.  This meant rising very early and motorsailing out in light fog, but it was certainly worth it.  We stayed a few hundred yards offshore until the approach, which meant that the huge opening came up out of the fog, quite awesome and a bit nervous-making.  There was a large catamaran motoring slowly around outside, they were chartering and had no outside VHF(!) but eventually responded to our shouts that the cave was safe and impressive.  Chris and I Nano’d in first, cut the engine when we were inside and were blown away by the sights, smells and especially sounds of the seals when we got to the back.  Our dimming flashlights probably helped enhance the eeriness of the place, but even without that it is truly magical.

Our original destination was Cuyler anchorage on Santa Rosa Island, but halfway there we decided to push on to Cojo anchorage at Conception to take advantage of our weather window.  Things were going great, running low revs with main and Yankee jib both pulling well when first the AIS gave up the ghost, and then the diesel.  Of course this happened when we were crossing a tug with a long and large tow; but we kept track of them and had a mile clearance after all.  Thank goodness for the trusty radar!

             The engine problem seemed like a fuel issue, and indeed when we tried it for anchoring she fired right up. Determined to check/clean fuel filters at earliest opportunity – but first we needed to sleep!

Next day was the infamous Point Conception rounding.  We started off with a light southerly, so it was about as uneventful as you can get. Motorsailed through light fog, managed to avoid kelp, and never even saw Diablo Canyon or Port San Luis – again. Next time… folks say it’s a very nice place.  Morrow Bay seemed kinda touristy this time, we met Alex Malacatto and his wife at the dock and headed off for a decent fish dinner after doing some repairs on the dutchman.

Next day much ferrying ensued, as David had to get back to the car, Chris and Alex’s wife to the workaday world.  But first we had a fantastic breakfast (as usual), and I changed and cleaned the housing for one of the “secondary” (i.e. aftermarket) fuel filters.  We said goodbye to Westerly who was on the hook in the channel and left for the short passage to San Simeon at 1PM, got in just after 5.  The anchorage was almost deserted but there were lots of folks on shore for the holiday.  Then at night we saw the fireworks put on by the apparently well-off town of Cambria 6 miles down the coast.  The longest show I’ve ever experienced, we kept saying “is this the finale? No, it doesn’t seem quite big enough”. Made me nostalgic for KFOG Kaboom.

Next day was very long, 98 miles.  Original destination was Monterey, but it’s kinda out of the way so we kept on truckin to Santa Cruz.  Occasionally the fog parted enough to see the coast, it was actually very pretty around Pt. Sur.  Didn’t see a single boat all day!

Santa Cruz is a great town, we met David there and dashed off to dinner, which was great except for David and Alex’ skimpy servings of mussels.  We picked up a new on-engine fuel filter from the back of a pickup truck at the marine store, David had ordered it online for me.

Now it was finally time to slow down a bit.  We had a mellow morning, joined for breakfast by my friend Rob Seelig who we also saw on the way down. And changed the “primary” filter which apparently was from 1994; amazing that it lasted this long without gumming up. Rafted to a guy going through a divorce - his ex had taken the radar and master VHF from the boat, an act of spite that seemed downright criminal to me given the fog in these parts. On a happier note, we saw Hobo II on the next dock, and raised him on the VHF before we left, he was heading north the next day. 

Alex, Angie and I had another mellow motor-sail up to Pillar Point (Half Moon Bay); I showed Alex lots of stuff like radar, GPS navigation, autopilot and what to put on the binnacle as he has cruising plans and a twinkle in his eye.  David met us again at port (yes he drives a lot), and took Angie off the boat for a doctor’s appointment; Alex and his honey left to go to a wedding down south so I was alone on the boat again.

Thursday was a lay day, I spent it working on the computer and sharing weather forecasts with dock-mates, then had appetizers with Jim from Hobo II.  Rob had signed up to do the last leg, his parents brought him down and decided to take us all out to dinner (after I convinced Rob to sleep on the boat instead of in a hotel).  It was a great meal and Jim and I obtained insight into Jewish family dynamics – I think Rob uttered three words the entire meal, his father considerably more.

Brekky was fine as always; new crew Chris Fallis and Angie were dropped off by their respective mates so we were back to four on board.  Yet another mellow motor-sail until we got close to the Golden Gate bridge where the wind piped up to standard SF Bay conditions and we clocked 11.3kn (with the flood).  Also almost rounded up going past Angel Island, as we still had the full main up and it was getting puffy. Welcome to the Bay!

Patti and the boys were on the dock to welcome us in; also our boys’ buddy Sumit and his family, and my old sailing friend Bill Murphy.  John and Sam, Molly and Raven, and Lindsey and Sean came out to share dinner and drinks at the club, and the kids had a blast running around while us old folks chatted away upstairs.

We spent the night back on Neener at the guest dock, then cleaned her up a bit and puttered over to her home across the fairway.  We were back together as a family, and the adventure… was on to other parts of our lives.  She’s a great boat, so Neener Neener Neener to you, dear friends!

The Baja Bash–Almost a waltz (5/31-6/18)

We weren’t too excited with Cabo San Lucas on the way down, but on the return trip it was positively unreal.  We arrived around sunset, just in time to dodge about a dozen craft of varying description and passenger inebriation heading out for sunset cruises – and this was on a Monday!  Managed to avoid all of them somehow and put down the anchor, eat some dinner and rest as much as we could with the music blaring from boats and shoreside establishments.  Four boats were set to leave at “0 dark thirty” to avoid the famous wind enhancement at Cabo Falso just around the corner. This was actually pretty close to the time we headed off, eyes glued to the radar screen.

Passage up to Magdalena Bay was fairly uneventful – winds 10-15, decent current relief near the shore and only came on the nose later the next day.  And we crossed Latitude 24 with 7 hours to spare.  The biggest issue was fog outside Mag Bay, it got really thick and the boats were calling back and forth on the VHF saying “I think it’s clearing ahead of us” or “Darn it, just got socked in again”.  Very glad I had downloaded a Google Earth image of the entrance and put it on the charting program, because the paper and electronic charts are about a mile off here.  We came into the bay and motor-sailed along to Puerto Magdalena, a small and somewhat run-down village where we hoped to get diesel and maybe supplies.  A friendly panganero came out almost immediately and agreed to bring us to shore and fill the jerry jugs (after I had poured three of them into the boat tank).  Had a beer and snacks at a sort of bar, panganero returned in only 30 minutes, and after paying and adding some school supplies and toys for his kids we were back on board.  Only problem was his daughter managed to lose her kite 10 minutes after getting it airborne, and it kept drifting over the water so far that neither we nor the panganero could find it again.  At least her younger bro still had his (and we were not around to see the ensuing sibling carnage).

This was a very smelly place – there are some tiny crustaceans called langustinas (like little lobster) and they apparently show up en masse in February and then die off starting in May.  Millions of dead crustaceans, floating and washed ashore smell about as bad as you might think.

Next day we went around the corner to Bahia Santa Maria, which we knew from the HaHa (one of the reasons to visit Mag Bay was we hadn’t on the way down).  Here there were maybe six boats doing the Bash, so we got to catch up with folks and hear their stories of the winds that howl over the hills at this time of year. We also found internet on the Banda Ancha, made a great fish dinner, Patti baked banana bread, and we saw an AWESOME sunset.

Next morning we left early for another long slog to Asuncion, 200 miles north.  There is a place to stop along the way, but the description of Abreojos (“eyes open” from all the reefs thereabouts) was not real inviting and it looked like we’d have decent weather.  Turned out to be a pretty windy passage, but as we neared Asuncion things calmed down and we had a nice port reach from the shore effect.

The best part of the passage was the huge pod of dolphins that swam past us – jumping all over the place, and playing with our pressure waves at the bow and quarter.  Awesome!

Arrived around sunset again, didn’t get to the town of about 2000 because Turtle Bay was just 45 miles up the coast. We buddy boated a bit with Adios but they left us in the dust.  Still got to TB in time to go in for a (pricey) shower, a meal and a few groceries.  We also stopped to introduce ourselves to Patricia Belle, a wonderful 60 foot coastal schooner with copacetic owners (Patrick and Jeanie) and three young-un crew to match.  Alas, the refrigerator died again – and this time it was not the skipper’s fault.

At least we were halfway up the coast and in semi-civilization, so we could get ice and a frozen chicken to get us further along, because despite our pleas nobody surfaced who had any knowledge of refrigeration – or more important, freon to fill it once the new leak had been found.  Oh well, we were getting used to it by now…

Turtle Bay is a really nice town and a great anchorage, but sheesh there are NO ATMs so most of the stores go without business – only one tienda takes credit cards, and most folks are low on cash at this point.  At least the diesel-selling pangas do take credit, though you have to negotiate the rate pretty hard - at first Ernesto wanted to charge 10% premium (I got him down to 5).  Another strange thing is that everyone in town seems to be part of two or three collectives or extended families, whatever: once we got diesel from one operator he wanted to pass us on to his friend’s hotel with showers, and restaurant, and ice maker even.  We eventually had to escape our “guide” so we could explore other places in town.

The next part of the bash is often the most harrowing, so we were a bit nervous heading off to Cedros Island and points north.  Jim Elfers (Baja Bash II) advises folks to try going west (outside) of Cedros, but all the boats in our little flotilla were going the usual leeward side and hoping the convergence zone at the top end of the island wouldn’t be too bad. On our first bash we didn’t want to be alone out there, so we went with the rest across the light easterly winds of Canal de Dewey and the (in our case gentle cycle) famous washing machine of Canal de Keller.  We found great internet passing Cedros Village, and a nice positive current that made the passage to the north anchorage very pleasant.  Took a while to get good holding among the kelp but we did so, a ways off the sea lion beach with Nero, Serendipity and Patricia Belle anchored close by or to the north of us. In the morning after a rocky night we decided to stay another day to explore and prepare for the next passage, but the rest of the boats left.  Jan started second-guessing his decision to hold, and was SO glad to see Hobo II pull up, complete with a sweet wooden dinghy that the boys could take to shore as Jim, Patti and Jan consumed appetizers and wine.  Ah, intelligent adult conversation, what a treat!

Another nervous night, Jan slept with his hand-held GPS for fear that he’d miss the boat’s anchor alarm if we dragged.  And it turned out Jim’s night on Hobo II was no better. So time to blow the popsicle stand and head across the famous Bahia Vizcaino.

When we asked Pete and Jean (previous owners) about the bash they said that was the only time it got really nasty.  This is what Patti wrote in the log:

Hellish ride

Cold wet

Bashing forever

Winds, current, swells

Hellish ride

Waterfalls – everything wet

We all died a bit

We all cried a bit

Hellish ride

We had to keep driving (with main and jib up for the first 8 hours) because reports from the boats ahead said the contrary current was 2 knots and folks were taking 30 hours to get to the next anchorage.  It turned out that our wind was more from the west so we could carry both sails (and the engine too) until the wind got above 25 and Jan got nervous enough to roll up the jib.  So 7 kn through the water, 6 over the bottom for the first two thirds of the passage and we got to San Carlos at 9:45 with just enough light to avoid kelp beds and anchor next to Sympatico.   We were soaked above decks from crashing through swells, found a lot of leaks, the mattress fell off the bed we were heeled so far – but we never had to tack so only stuff on the port side fell over!

Felt pretty bad and even sorry for ourselves until we started swapping stories with other boats and discovered theirs were worse: 36 hour passages; arriving after dark and heaving to for 8 hrs until the sun came up (this from a single-hander – it took him days to recover); 30 knots on the nose…

Next day we sauntered up to Isla San Geronimo and anchored next to Sympatico again. Kelly lent us his dinghy and this time Jan joined the boys for a shore excursion, a fun romp with the lighthouse keeper’s dog Loba digging up seagull nests or chasing sea lions wherever she could. Oh well, at least they aren’t endangered or anything…

We had Kelly over for dinner, with wine and more rich conversation that gave our nerves the balm they needed.  We were still checking in on the informal SSB nets that had been set up for the “June Baja Bash class of 2011”, so we could keep track of our friends and give and get info on conditions ahead and behind us.  Also very useful when only some of us could hear the weather discussions on the official nets (Sonrisa and Amigo, primarily).  A bit of grumbling about one of the more well-known contributors, who kept on saying “well, you’ll get about 10-15 in the morning, 20-25 in the afternoon, but that’s typical conditions for the outside of the Baja so get used to it” – until he started saying GO GO GO all of a sudden so we went.  It appears that after a horrible April and May, this June was actually a decent time to do the Bash, and our timing within that was about as good as it got.

Sunday the 12th we left San Geronimo for San Quintin where we were hoping for provisions and even a restaurant, but there’s a 6 mile ride into the town through an estuary and we never raised anyone on the VHF or cellphone, so eventually we settled for home-cooked meals and a restful night.  Next day off to Punta Colnett, which is quite dramatic with high cliffs and good holding.  Sympatico and Hobo II joined us at anchor again (the latter just for a 4-hour nap), and the next morning we managed to transfer two jerry jugs of diesel to Sympatico to pass on to Balena who was running low and was a day behind us. It felt good to “give back” after all the help we had received over our voyage, especially after we opened the goody bag that Jim from Hobo left us (hey, I can’t eat it all, I’m just single-handing!)

The last real passage was up to Ensenada.  Again we sailed with a huge pod of dolphins; we wanted to stop at Puerto Escondido (Jim Elfers’ favorite anchorage), but by now it had been filled with fishing nets, buoys and perhaps an entire fish farm. So we continued on to Ensenada, and met Patricia Belle coming out as we were going into the harbor.

 

Alas, the boom lift broke as we were dropping the mainsail, fortunately the rigid vang kept it up so no damage.  A bit rattled, we got directions on where to dock from Nero; and then helped Adios when it was their turn.  Time for a toast, showers, and a restaurant meal!

Ensenada seems a pretty neat town – a bit touristy (especially near the cruise ship terminal), but a couple blocks off the main drag and you’re in real Mexico. The boys befriended our slip-mate Norm, who lives on Sybarite.  Boys helped get his new video game set up and in return he let them watch DVDs out the wazoo, while Patti and Jan scoured the internet for houses and condos in Albany, having decided that we couldn’t send T&V back to the school district we lived in.

After a very professional reefer man called Delgado (“skinny”) fixed the bad weld our La Paz crew had used, we went out to lunch in the fish market, and unfortunately Patti’s vibe detectors failed for the first time in living memory so we ate a very boring meal, lightened only by these soulful but slightly pushy troubadours.

The next night was a real treat – we all went to the circus (Rolex) where we had great seats for about $9 each. So cheap that we brought along another 12-yr-old boy, Eddy, who seemed glad to get out but not terribly excited about the circus.  We loved it though – not just the performers, who were fine (clown was especially good), but also the ambiance and the strange scene of screaming girls pining for their heartthrob equestrian or tiger tamer.  After the show we came back for “tacos galore” at a roadside stand/ restaurant.

Our last day in Mexico was filled with paperwork (not too bad since all the agencies are in one place in Ensenada, and the marina helps shepherd you through for about $25), and hanging out by the pool.  We also bought some wonderful jams and a mole at a food fair at the marina/hotel, cooked camarones con mole for dinner and retired early.

Finally we’re off to San Diego – and there’s a motor-vessel on the rocks just outside the entrance!  We saw that the Mexican Navy had things under control, then continued on with an easy motor-sail, though getting more crowded as we approached.  Then just outside the navigation channel we saw a 26 foot boat that Jan thought was in trouble, since it dropped its main for no reason.  We came up to it and indeed they were in a pickle, couldn’t figure out how to steer with out the main, whose halyard had broken.  We helped call Vessel Assist and then towed them away from some rock pilings since Vessel Assist was still 30 minutes away.  It felt strange that nobody else seemed to pay them any attention, in Mexico I think all the boats in the vicinity would have come over to help, or at least check in on VHF.  (And no, the crew had two dogs but no radio, I think they’ll carry one from now on.)

Police dock was a bit of an ordeal – apparently cruisers are low on the priority list, the same agents serve the airport and they had to wait for a delayed British Airways flight to come in.  So we got in at 6:50 but weren’t cleared until 11PM.  At least they let us eat the two apples that were no-nos, “but be sure you put the cores in the yellow quarantine bins!” And then we were right at the municipal dock, which was still only $10.50/night (it has since gone to a buck a foot, I think).  We slept well that night :-)