Finally Internet Access

Posted on by under anchoring, sailing, Weather

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…

The List

Posted on by under anchoring, food, living aboard

We’ve got “the list” of things that have to be done before leaving San Diego and heading back up the coast to San Francisco. Lots of things on the list are done–and of course, as lists go we’ve managed to add as many things to the list as we got done!  However, we should be leaving as early as next weekend.  I have two more PT sessions during the week and David has to pick which things to “finish” and which to save for doing in anchorage somewhere.

Last month, shortly after returning to the boat post-surgery, I realized that both David and I’d be happier “saving” my varnish and paint work for anchorage times.  David just makes too much dust and mess for me to actually get anything done while he’s doing his projects so I just said “when we go, I’ll do it!”

We’ve been on a dock for 3 weeks and it will be a month total time on the dock when we leave it later this week.  We’ve really enjoyed having shore power for the tools, but I’m really looking forward to those very tools–as well as piles of wood and offcuts–being put away (or thrown away) so I can wash the boat without getting water on them.  It will really be nice!

The “one time” pre-passage activities that we have to do include aligning the engine, hauling David up the masts to check the rigging conditions, washing down everything inside and out, and going through my “stash and lash” process to get Mahdee back in shape for the open ocean.  Other little things include checking all the thru hulls (exercising the valves), the bilge pumps, and the spare parts bins.  And–that brings us to provisioning.  We’ve been grocery shopping for the “short term” and now we need to shop for spending a month of meandering from anchorage to anchorage.  We only expect to be sailing for two weeks or so later in the month–but our unexpected month of gunkholing last August in the Sacramento Delta with only about 10 days worth of good food aboard was “interesting” eating.  We were saved by the plentiful blackberries, thank goodness!

The Next Day

Posted on by under Musings, The Crew

First the good stuff–the surgeon says “no problem” I can sail up the coast after I finish up my last two session of PT (next week).  Yea! Happy dance–ouch! Maybe happy sway instead!   Well of course, I should also put what he said in context of our life and what he knows about it.  He said I was “over-doing it” and “not to walk so much” as the hip flexor pains I’ve got (and need for cane or walking stick because of) are revealing that I’m pushing those muscles too hard. Another sailor, upon hearing this “good to go sailing” info said “Ha! your surgeon doesn’t know what sailing is like, does he?” And, well, no the surgeon doesn’t really know anything about sailing and the work involved.  However–since I’m planning on sitting around the cockpit and eating bon-bons while David handles the foredeck and the (newly working) autopilot does the steering–I think I’ll be able to handle it.

Now the not-so-good-stuff.  Our sailing life just got a smidgen harder since David’s Nokia N810 decided to bite the dust–10 minutes ago.  I decided to write this post rather than do a midnight shopping trip on Amazon.com for a replacement.  Ah–you wonder why that matters, right?  Well, this little (no longer in production) bit of electronics which is sort of a palm-sized computer–sort of like a tiny netbook or an over-sized cellphone depending on your point of view–is really important to me while we’re entering unfamiliar anchorages.  You must remember I’m always in the cockpit manning the lines and helm because David is running around the foredeck dealing with getting the sometimes unruly sails lashed down and getting the anchor ready to deploy.  Because the N810 has a GPS and NOAA charts on it, if I start hyperventilating while we enter an unfamiliar anchorage, all I have to do is pull it out of my pocket and check our position, breath deeply and continue manning the helm into a good anchor spot.  Oh, it’s so nice.  I’d be a basket case without it or another hand held GPS.

We do have a GPS for the AIS system in the Standard Horizion VHF radio but don’t export its info to a chart plotter.  We also have an electronic chart program on my laptop computer so I suppose I could just get a GPS hooked into the laptop.  That’s on the list of things to buy this week–another Garmin GPS puck to back up the one on the AIS and use on the laptop as well.  But, that’s someting I prefer NOT to have in the cockpit as it is easily damaged.

Many cruisers have a chart plotter screen out in the cockpit showing them a nice GPS track.  Others keep a handheld Garmin GPS and use it much as I use the Nokia N810.  Most times, we don’t really need to watch a GPS to tell us where we are–it’s just a really nice little back-up to the eyes and ears when close to shore.

Nice little back up or not, now I have to decide if I’m going to splurge on a hand-held GPS for the sole purpose of keeping me relaxed when we’re in the skinny water of unfamiliar anchorages or if I’ll have to take a peek into the chart house window and keep the laptop computer/gps/charts turned on in there?

David may be able to fix the N810–being rather good with the soldering iron and all–however, having this bit of obsolete technology fail reminds me that I’m living a life surrounded by things on “borrowed time.”  While we’re happy with having such a lovely classic schooner and proud of her restoration, I am beginning to wonder about the trends of our existence right now especially since David and I are both actually very much technophiles who love the “latest and greatest” of technologies.  Yet, we’re cruising in an 80 year old schooner; I’m cooking on a wood/coal cast iron stove of the era of the boat and we’re installing a “back up” kerosene stove of a design that is 40 years old. I’m thrilled with our 30 year old “new” Wood Freeman autopilot; relying on an out-of-production Nokia N810 (more than 5 years old) for nav assistance; I still love to use my Palm Treo cellphone-as-a-modem (and phone); and we’ve just spent a few days dealing with Buttercup, our 35 year car, and will be spending a day this weekend getting her all back together as well as replacing some parts of our “newer” 24 year old car.  I think I’m beginning to understand those “old people” with the 50 year old cars and the furniture and stereos from the 1960’s.  Oh, my…

Part of the issue is that we’re “loyal” to good technologies–be they 80 years old or brand new! And we’re not wasteful people either.  That keeps us well supplied with “old stuff” rather than new, for sure!

I do like doing things in “old fashioned ways” so the whole classic schooner thing works for me.  However, this is a slippery slope.  We could go from technology geeks to … well…I don’t want to say it.

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