Update

We didn’t sail up to Tomales Bay after all.  Somehow the play of light and shadow, fog and sunshine, just kept us anchored at Drake’s Bay.  I made yummy pancakes in the morning (a treat since usually breakfast is a granola bar and a piece of fruit for me…add a dollop of peanut butter for David’s version) and we sat aboard Mahdee reading a stash of periodicals that we’d not gotten around to reading for several months.  Between issues of Science and Wired, David also finished reading Michael Crichton’s novel about a bio-tech company,  NeXt.  I’ll have to now read it.  David chuckled as he said Crichton, as usual, got all the intrigue right–even down to a power-hungry NIH scientist messing around with people’s research and copying ideas.  How does Crichton do it across so many industries?

This trip has been a pretty easy one for us.  I’m thankful of that since I don’t really think my hip flexors are up to the task of dealing with any thing more than benign activities while sailing.  With me antsy to get going on some projects and professional activities, we sailed from Drakes to the San Francisco Bay on Thursday and anchored beneath the North end of the Golden Gate Bridge in Horseshoe Bay.  That is a very tiny little cove which houses a small Coast Guard station as well as a tiny military marina.

There was very little wind throughout the day (outside of the Bay) so we meandered along over the Four Fathom Bank doing 3-1/2 to 4 knots on a run.  The slow speed and fairly large, steep quartering seas over the bar made for a good little test of our autopilot.  We were smacked about with the waves sometimes landing on deck and splashing over the cockpit combing–the autopilot did fine and we were very happy about that.

As our last entrance to the Bay was exciting with us flying past downtown exceeding hull speed, we knew what to expect this time.  While winds outside the Bay were less than 10 knots, weather predictions for the afternoon showed 25 knots in the portion of the bay near the Golden Gate.  So, it was no real surprise when we went from 4 knots to 9 knots as we passed under the bridge.  We’d been slowly sailing along with the gaff foresail and staysail alone and David had stowed the staysail when we accelerated to 9 knots under foresail alone.  Our plan was to turn up into the wind, drop the foresail, and motor back to the little Horseshoe Bay.  That’s what we did but I must say that taking down a 500 sf gaff sail in more than 20 knots of wind is a little exciting.  Its actually easier to bring down running but then the sail is not nicely captured in the lazy jacks as it is when we’re pointing  closer to the wind.  The gaff itself is amazingly well behaved going down or up, no matter the wind or point of sail, and I do always think how much nicer it is to bring down a gaff sail rather than a flopping-about flailing Bermuda sail.  The only issue with Mahdee’s gaff foresail is that it has 4:1 purchase on both halyards and thus miles of peak and throat halyards must smoothly run out to bring the sail down.

I have an entire routine of coiling the halyard lines just right so that they can quickly feed out without tangle.  Their cleats are along the outside of the starboard side of the cockpit combing and the coils sit ready against the starboard seatback.  Since the halyards are tweaked here-and-there during our sailing, it’s a nice place for them to be; further the sail can be dropped in a manageable way from the cockpit if conditions warrant it.  So far, we’ve alway had David go forward to the foremast for the lowering while I man the helm and feed out the lines and together we manage the lowering of the foresail including getting the fore boom into the clever little boom crutch attached to the mainmast.  So, that was our routine on Thursday as well.

I’m always a bit anxious that the lines run smoothly and Mahdee isn’t harmed or damaged by thoughtless actions on our part.  I don’t think David shares my concerns.  Another difference between us–he assumes that we’ll do things correctly and with skill whereas I assume that we’ll bumble something and have to make a quick recovery.  Even though he’s usually right on this, I just can’t shake my concerns.

Once in Horseshoe Bay, we found that the anchorage was small and we were glad not to have to share it with other boats.  The depths were more shallow than indicated by the chart and we were glad it was simply that Bay jello mud since we calculated that we’d be aground with low tide.  We bumped a bit about 2 hours (and two more feet of water drop to go) prior to low tide so we started the engine and re-positioned the boat (not the anchor) in hopes that we’d stay afloat the remainder of the night.  By the time we were ready to leave the anchorage near noon Friday, we were well afloat again as expected.  The anchor came up with a huge cube of mud and even huge-er slug of sea weed.

Our sail to Brisbane Marina (where we would leave Mahdee during our trek to pick up the cars in San Diego) was slow and uneventful on Friday.  There was forecast of good winds in the teens mid-day mid-bay and in the 20’s South of Hunters Point later in the afternoon.  We saw many  boats heeled over in a mid-bay regatta while we ambled along at 1 to 3 knots and no wind.  Turning the corner at the Financial District and passing under the Bay bridge, we logged 1 knot COG in reverse for 20 minute or so as the out-going tide was taking us backwards.  Patience is key and we weren’t really in any hurry so we sailed on.  As predicted, the winds picked up into the teens in the mid-afternoon and we swiftly made way to the marina channel.  Since the dockmaster had already told us that we could choose either the port or starboard slip in a nice, wide, two slip finger, we had an easy docking pulling into the port one and letting the wind push us over to the starboard to tie up.  By 3:30 pm we were checked into the marina and busy washing down Mahdee to get the crusty salt from her topsides and headsails.  In the shelter of the marina, the winds were very slight so we were able to raise the headsails and rinse them down with lots of freshwater and then leave them up for an hour to dry before putting on the sail covers.

We picked up a one-way rental car on Saturday morning and drove to San Diego that day.  With temperatures in the 90’s throughout central California, we were glad that we’d already planned to bring un-airconditioned Buttercup and Wesley North during the evening and night time hours.  On Sunday, we visited with some friends in San Diego, loaded all the car-related sundries into the cars and then watched Forrest Gump on the hotel TV.  Other than the fact that when we’re sleeping on land, I find the room rolls and pitches alarmingly (I think “get me back to my boat!”) we had a nice time in San Diego.  We drove the cars North an hour and a half to Newport Beach where we briefly visited with Chris, the wonderful fellow who bought our Rawson 30, Stargazer, and we rummaged one last time through Minnie’s bins of used boat parts–just in case there was something that we’d need.

At Minnies, we bought a little chrome-over-bronze (with the chrome worn mostly off) Barient 10 to be used as a bowsprit-mounted snubber winch on the running bobstay and I negotiated a good price on a like-new Watts storm staysail that I’d had my eye on for quite some time.  Finally, an impulse buy: I purchased an old 1.5 ounce ripstop nylon (strangely high-aspect) drifter for $95 that looks like something I can modify to be used as a light-air mainsail.  Ever since reading an article in Good Old Boat about light-air mainsails, I’ve been wanting to play with one–but the sheer volume of materials needed (and the lack of availability of such light air mainsails in the used market) has kept me from getting one.  This one is a bit small for such a sail on Mahdee, but it’s something to play with and I figure if it doesn’t do the job for our main and I can’t recut it as such, I can always use it out on the bowsprit in light airs with the gollywobbler set mid-ships.  The new sail is white and our golly is bright red, so they are even complementary in color.

We waited for LA traffic to die down before setting off on our Northward drive at 7 pm.  The traffic was light and we flew along averaging 70 mph for the trip.  We arrived back at Mahdee at 2 am.  Driving Buttercup with no cruise control and a marginal radio wasn’t fun but I am very happy that both cars are here in the Bay area with us now.

What’s next?  We’re planning on settling in the Bay area for a bit, so, who knows.

Tomales Bay

cleat drakes bay

Ever anxious to avoid a marina, David has talked me into going further up the coast to Tomales Bay.  We’ll get to stop at one Drake’s Bay–a nice place–and then on to Tomales on Wednesday.  If the relatively calm weather holds, we may motor further up the coast beyond Bodega Head.  Yes, anything to avoid a marina…

Finally Internet Access

So, let’s see…we were busy as could be doing all the “stuff” and dealing with the antics of the cars prior to sailing away from San Diego.  After a last round of using up all the anchoring permits we could, running through freebie recips at the various yacht clubs and buying way too much food for the trip, on Monday we motored Mahdee down to Fiddlers’ Cove, filled up the water, said goodbye to some friends who we will likely not see for many years unless they travel to see us, and set sail for San Francisco via the Channel Islands.  The sailing has been by and large motor sailing since the winds have been against us or nonexistent.

We did have a few hours of nice sailing giving us 7+ knots course made good but then the wind died and we were back to motor sailing.  During this trip, we’ve enjoyed the backside of Catalina Island and then the Southern side of Santa Cruz Island.  However, the large Southern swell due to an Antartic weather system unexpectedly brought big-big surge to the Channel Islands on Wednesday.  At Coches Preitos, the small protected anchorage was turned into a raging whirlpool as the big surf crested over the protective reef and into the small area.  We anchored outside the anchorage in the deeper water and watched this force of nature with awe.  The night did end up being rolly with the swell passing through but we figured that it was as good as any anchorage within easy daylight range would have been.

Our passing of Point Conception was uneventful but the conditions were much more exciting than on the trip up in May 2010 or down in October 2010.  Seas were quite impressive with that long period South swell as well as a shorter period NW swell plus wind waves.  Hard to estimate size–but just the sort of “wow” size that makes you wonder what you’re doing out there on this particular day.

We motor sailed beating close to the wind achieving between 5.5 and 7 knots speed over ground with 15 knots of NW wind against us.  Rather than just sheet in the sails and straight on motor (using the sails for steadying only) we decided to tack our way up around the cape of Points Conception and Arguello.  It was easy on the motor and our fuel budget–plus–it was more fun, but I imagine that we would have made similar or better time just bashing straight into the wind and seas motoring.  Plenty of waves washing up onto the foredeck so we’re nice and squeaky clean (saltwater though) from all the water running on deck.

There was a North-bound (Washington State) catamaran motoring around the cape with us and they called us on radio around Conception to figure out what we were doing–going further out?  finding waves to big out there? as we tacked back towards them.  In the charthouse, David and I chuckled because motoring the cat North they didn’t use their sails to steady the boat as we did–and of course if one has sails up to steady the boat, one might as well sail (and tack), right?  So as we scorched back and forth ahead of them they were pretty much keeping up with us and we had to constantly keep an eye out for their position.  Later in the dark evening, as we headed back inshore on a tack coming close to them, the owner hailed us again on the radio letting us know where he was and that he’d make sure we’d pass in front of them–we declined and said we’d be coming about before crossing their path again.  We came about, headed further offshore, and slowed the engine speed so that we were only making 4.5 to 5 knots COG and we figured we’d not see them again as they would be ahead of us for the night and likely for the rest of our trip.

I took the first night watch and since we were still tacking and sailing along in fluctuating and dying winds, I would shine a flashlight on the sails when we weren’t heeling enough or boat speed was slowing (every 10-15 minutes) to see how well they were drawing and if change were needed.   Sailing from inside the chart house with the motor running, it is impossible to hear the little sounds of the leech flutter or other tell-tale signs that things aren’t quite right.  The only changes I can easily make from inside involve changing heading to better suit the fluctuating winds as I’d have to go outside to the cockpit to adjust the sails.  However, it is warm and dry inside and much less tiring a watch position than sitting out in the more exposed cockpit.  My flashing of a light onto the sails must have piqued the curiosity of another nearby mariner as I was hailed near midnight by a yacht delivery skipper bringing a boat from San Francisco to San Diego; he asked if all was well and we chatted a moment about his flux-gate compass problems and the weather as he’d just seen the North and I’d just seen the South.   He asked if we were a private vessel and seemed surprised when I said we were–but then I realized that he was close enough that he could easily see our full schooner rig, gaff and all, and usually these days, a boat looking like ours would be owned by a foundation or museum–not privately owned.

I reflected on the old saying “ships passing in the night” as it implies that no communication takes place but yet with so few boats sailing up and down the California coast, while during the day tye may pass without communication, during the dark of night, almost every one hails the other and gets the scoop on where the other is going and if anything is needed.

In the wee morning hours, we heard a distant call on the radio from what seemed to be that same catamaran we’d seen earlier in the evening; they were saying we were on their (?port?) bow.  We frantically searched for them since we were in a fog bank and becoming quite concerned that we weren’t seeing anything.  We decided they must be seeing a different vessel and thinking it was us or they had excellent radar since we never did see them again.

With little traffic there wasn’t much worry–the AIS showed no shipping traffic and we had our loud hailer PA giving others a fog signal to let them know we were here, but without radar, we do feel a little vulnerable in these situations.

The fog lasted until after daylight but luckily burned off near San Simeon where we planned to anchor.  And, here we sit–Internet access finally–and I’m typing this little update before we take off up the Big Sur coastline.  We’d originally intended to not stop in Monterrey but that unexpected Southern swell has made much of the SW facing coastline of California experience large surf and it is moving up the coast pretty much as we are–and thus all the anchorage spots we like will be too uncomfortable and rolling for good sleeping.  As I recall, we didn’t have good Internet access from the Monterrey anchorage so it will likely be a few days before any further updates come along. We will hope that the Pillar Point Harbor entrance is good by the time we get there since we really enjoy visiting Half Moon Bay. More later…

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