Well, it was only a matter of time before we found a little corner of the Delta to run aground upon. This one was really weird but benign — we’re now “off” the shoal and anchored with our bowsprit right over it actually–but, yea, it was weird. There’s a little cut between two waterways–the Suisun Slough and the Montezuma Slough. The cut is 30′ deep and at the end of it, as one goes into the SS from the MS, there’s a “hole” from eddies of water and the hole is over 50′ deep. The channels are oh, say 150-200′ wide here. We planned on anchoring just to the SouthWest of this cut–in an area that was known by locals and cruisers alike for good anchoring with approximately 7 ft of depth at low tide. We draw 6’4″, btw, with 54′ LOD/46′ waterline. So, we go into the teeny tiny anchorage area and watch the FLS near the front of the boat read 3′ while the depth sounder near the back of the boat (these two instruments are about 20 ft apart) reads 25′. Throw it into reverse, go back to the 50′ depth. Think again. Go back into the anchorage (less than a boat length in, note the FLS is at 3′ again which means its almost in the mud, hubby drops the anchor off the bowsprit–thunk into 2′ of muddy water. Back down, oops, the mud bar extends back along the east of the boat, too, humm… we’re aground for a bit, back down and turn the boat some more off the mud bar and take the dingy and pull a stern anchor into the reeds and tie it off to some pilings. Lead line says we’ll continue to have 5′ under the bow at low tide tomorrow am, 8′ midships, and 20′ at the stern. That’s all good. Lead line in the dingy says we’re in a “hole” just big enough for our boat and we should be able to back out of it. Goody. 15 to 25 knots of wind’s on the nose and should stay there. I wonder how we’re going to get that bow anchor outta the mud. No trip line. 50′ of chain out there and I’m not planning on going forward one inch with this boat to get it. Perhaps we’ll wade.

Its been awhile since I last posted and a lot has happened since then.  Fortunately, Brenda has been doing a much better job of keeping up.  We are currently anchored in the Napa river.  So far, the majority of our experience in San Francisco has been in and around the Napa river.  Here is a synopsis of our trip up to Napa.

After our ping-pong drive around southern California last month, we were very happy to be once again aboard Mahdee.  The next morning, we planned to throw off the dock lines and head north to anchor in San Pablo bay.  Every sail and journey on the bay is dominated by considerations of the tides, currents and lastly the wind.   We needed high tide to safely exit the narrow marina channel and we wanted low winds so we wouldn’t be blown out of the channel.  Those criteria meant a morning departure.  We timed our departure to the tide charts, but the wind is rarely cooperative.  That left us departing with a stiff cross wind and since our arrival in the Brisbane Marina, a large power boat had tied up next to Mahdee leaving little maneuvering room.  We lined out Mahdee as far as possible to minimize the time she needed to be broadside to the wind while backing out of the slip.  Further, there was a cement seawall just behind Mahdee in the narrow fairway.  It wasn’t clear which way Mahdee would want to turn once in the fairway.  Brenda and I briefed both ways.  Either way would require Brenda, who manned the helm, to turn Mahdee 180 degrees in short order to be pointed out of the little harbor before we came up against another cement seawall.  We left the fenders deployed.  They were not needed because Brenda efficiently spun Mahdee around and powered her out into the tight, narrow channel.

Once clear of the cement seawalls, I lowered Mahdee’s bowsprit and set the running bobstay in preparation for setting sail.  This being San Francisco, and without a third crew member, Brenda and I had decided to set a double reef in the mainsail and not set the jib but rather sail with staysail, foresail, and mainsail.  We briefly considered setting the reef in the foresail, but decided not to.  It wasn’t long after hoisting the sails when we wished we had reefed the fore.  It was still morning and the wind was blowing strong.  Instead, we eased the peak halyard on the gaff rigged fore when the winds were strongest.

At first all we saw was one other sailboat motoring north.  The AIS indicated that one of the anchored super tankers was moving faster than an anchored boat should be and before too long, we were able to pick out the tanker that had weighed anchor.  A collision was possible, so we luffed up to see what the tanker would do.  It kept turning towards us so we backed the staysail and fell off on a port tack broad reach that took us behind the big ship.  Once well clear, we came up into the wind and passed under the bay bridge.  Looking back, the tanker went in a complete circle and seemed to be dropping anchor again.  Either it was training day, or their anchor was dragging in the stiffening breeze.

In the main bay we could see a big schooner sailing in the distance, and another couple of smaller sail boats with no sails up.  Then there were the ferries.  These things fly.  At over 30 knots, you have to keep a sharp eye out because they can appear out of nowhere.  Once north of Angel island, we saw some more sailing vessels, some sailing like Mahdee, and most heading for Raccoon Strait while the currents were low.  The winds had died down and we wondered whether they would pick up again.  In any event, we left the mainsail with its double reef and sailed comfortably towards San Pablo Bay with gradually increasing head currents from the tides.  We made good time and buzzed the “sisters,” a couple of rocks near to our planned anchorage.  It would have been very frustrating to try to get any closer to our destination in Napa with the tides ebbing and currents running fast in the opposite direction.  Instead, we had a relaxing afternoon with our only concern having to do with the winds and our southerly exposure and the possibility that at low tide we would hit bottom.  We had read of one person in this anchorage sticking in the bottom and spending several days working his boat free.  One thing for sure, Mahdee swung around her anchor according to the tides and the wind blew fairly hard on her beam with no effect–On the ebb it blew on her port and on the flood, it blew on her starboard.

The next day’s journey required us to weigh anchor at first light so that we would have moderate flood tides as we approached the Carquinez strait, and would be navigating the Napa river in the morning when winds are typically lowest.  Given the restricted navigation of the area and the dynamics of river travel we decided not to set any sails and just motor.  This was our first river adventure aboard Mahdee and we were happy to have a big NOAA paper chart of the Napa river along with descriptions of many hazards.  Despite those preparations we knew that we were going to need all of our navigation skills.  We had some excitement avoiding a 35 knot ferry right at the Napa river entrance.

Soon after the ferry landing is a highway bridge that must open for Mahdee.  We had been told that the bridge operator is there at 9AM but we were arriving a little early.  We didn’t expect an answer on the phone, but the friendly operator was there and told us to expect a 9AM opening.  The winds were much stronger than expected and almost 90 degrees to the Mare Island Strait, so we crabbed along almost sideways as slow as we could go.  We took note as we passed a 100 foot plus sail boat that was surprisingly anchored there.  The bridge opened on schedule and we passed under our first draw bridge.

The winding Napa river is beautiful with reeds along the banks.  The difficulty is that much of the river is less than a foot deep and the muddy waters make it impossible to see where the main channel lies.  Brenda and I have spent many years canoeing in rivers so we were able to use those skills to help us read the river.  Still it was nice to have a gps position plotted on my little Nokia N810.  The NOAA chart was a little blurry at the scale we were interested in, but the details were visible.  Channel marker 7 is the dangerous one.  In the wide water, Brenda who was navigating, called out 5 and 10 degree course changes and the water under our keel didn’t go less than 20 feet until well around the big sweeping left-hand turn when it dropped to 9 feet approaching marker 9.  At marker 11 we turned back to the right and the banks of the river closed in until the channel center was obvious.  I handed the helm over to Brenda so that I could ship the bowsprit so that the boat would be easier to handle in the close confines of the Napa Valley Marina.  No sooner than I had gone forward when a boat stopped right under the upcoming railroad bridge and started to pull something out of the water.  The channel was blocked by them and the wind was again blowing 90 degrees to the channel so we were running out of options.  It turned out to be a fishing net and they zipped out of the way just in time.  Then they stood by and stared as I winched up the bowsprit which stands about 17 feet above the deck when fully shipped.

The narrow Napa Valley Marina entrance was right around the corner and we were careful to make a sharp 90 degree turn in the channel and cross their bar dead center.  We had been told to tie up near the haulout ramp in the far back of the marina and as we approached the end of the basin, neither Brenda nor I though there was room back there for anything, let alone a haulout ramp.  There was a small gap between a dock with a sea plane and an endtied trimaran at the end of a covered dock that block all view around the corner.  I leaned over the bow to try and catch a glimpse that we were going to the right place.  The wind was way too high for comfort, but Brenda kept a nice easy pace and I was able to see that there was a small dock at the end of a very, very narrow fairway.  Brenda decided that since we were probably going to hit things, she would point towards the muddy bank ahead and keep close to the trimaran since it would be cheaper than hitting the sea plane.  I came aft with a big fender as she swept the bow inches from the mud bank around the turn.  My fender wasn’t needed since we had several inches to spare from the trimaran.

We crabbed up the narrow fairway with the wind blowing on our beam and off of the dock that we needed to get onto.  The stern of Mahdee was only feet away from the boats in the covered docks to her lee.  There was only one chance to get onto the dock–anything else was going to be ugly and costly.  The shore was lined with boats on stands where their owners were working away.  The work stopped and the eyes all turned towards that big schooner in that tight fairway with a crosswind blowing off the dock.  Brenda tweaked her crab with a few big thrusts of power from the Cummins engine.  I climbed over the forward starboard rail and onto the rubrail while holding onto the fore-shrouds.  Mahdee’s starboard bow cleared the dock by inches and I stepped off the rail and onto the dock.  I took a wrap on a cleat and Brenda swung Mahdee’s rudder around and gave the Cummins a quick pulse of power that swung her stern towards the dock as the bowline came tight.  Meanwhile I walked aft and casually took Mahdee’s stern line and bent over and cleated it down as Mahdee came to a perfect stop up against the dock with two lines set.  The audience was no doubt disappointed in the show, but never have Brenda and I been so happy with Mahdee.  She arrived in style.  And, Mahdee was ready to be hauled out so that her bottom paint could be touched up, a black boot-stripe added and her topside paint could be redone so that on relaunch she looked as good as she performs.