Judy and I spent a rather subdued Christmas together in
Placerville. Getting there was something of an adventure. It required that I
catch the bus from Alameda to Jack London Square in Oakland and then Amtrack
from there to Davis. Other than the inconvenience of lugging a heavy bag and a
backpack, it was an enjoyable trip. I didn’t have to fight traffic or stay
awake to cover the 100 miles to Davis. Lane met me in Davis and dropped me off
at Judy’s on her way to spend Christmas with family in Pollock Pines.
The time with Judy was wonderful but there was the looming
separation casting a pall over the occasion. Judy’s son Douglas, his wife
Tavifa and son Isaac joined us for an afternoon and dinner. They insisted on
bringing gifts even though we specified that we weren’t doing any gift giving
this year. I have to admit that I was delighted to receive a dark chocolate
orange. I will savor it in small chunks – if I can exercise some self control.
Saturday after Christmas, I returned to the boat. Judy drove
me to the Amtrak station in Sacramento and we parted there for who knows how
long. I am encouraging her to come spend some time with me on the boat in San
Diego when I get settled in.
My luggage had gotten even heavier thanks to a very generous
gift from Terry Hoffart (K7ASU). He sent his ham radio Yaesu FT-890 SSB transceiver
– quite a welcome gift. Hopefully, it will give Judy and me a way to keep in
closer communication. It also is a general coverage receiver so I can get
weather forecasts and time signals from WWV. I will be studying up to take the amateur
radio general class exam when I get to San Diego.
 |
| Yaesu FT-890 SSB transceiver |
December 30, Sunday, was spent tidying up the boat, putting
things away where they wouldn’t escape when the boat starts rocking and rolling
on the open ocean. I also did some last minute grocery shopping.
Monday, I paid my bill for having the masts rewired (ouch),
returned my boatyard key that the boatyard had very kindly allowed me to use
well after I was finished with the boatyard work. A little after noon, I pulled
out of my slip, visited the harbormaster’s dock long enough to pump the holding
tank, then headed off to Richardson Bay. There was not much wind so most of the
trip involved motoring rather than sailing. A little after 5 PM I anchored about
¼ mile off the Spinnaker Restaurant in Sausalito. This is the first time I have
used the anchor since I bought Laelia. I am happy to report that the new anchor
roller, anchor windlass and associated gear all worked as they should.
It was a wonderful to be anchored out again. I spent most of
a year living at anchor in San Diego during 1975 and loved it. There is a
feeling of independence and peace that comes with living in my self-sufficient
space. I had the pleasure of being able to listen to classical KDFC while
fixing dinner, cleaning up and getting ready to sleep.
31 Dec 2013 - Tuesday
– New Year’s Eve Day. This is it! Departure day!
I had a relaxed morning, fixed breakfast, cleaned up and
tucked away the last few items. I made up a batch of rice and chili and left it
sitting on the stovetop. I was anticipating that I would be busy and/or seasick
and would not feel like fixing meals. It is important to stay well fed and well
hydrated to keep up strength and alertness.
At first, I had trouble getting the self steering to work.
Eventually, I figured out the magic combination of steering wheel position,
steering line tension and sail balance and I was able to sit back and watch
Laelia sail herself out to sea. For a while, the wind was favorable and Laelia
charged along at 6 – 7 knots. But then the sea surface started getting rather
lumpy making it quite uncomfortable to keep up that speed. I changed to using
the working jib (smaller than the little jenny) and got violently seasick in
the process. I had applied the patch behind my ear several hours before
departure in the hope that I could avoid this, but no such luck. Once the sail
change was complete, I retired to my bunk for a nap. After that, there was no
more seasickness – at least no more throwing up. That was a great improvement
over my 1975 departure from San Diego when I was seasick at least once a day
for the first 10 days.
1 Jan 2014 – Tuesday
The general plan for SF – SD leg of the trip was to get far
enough offshore to be where the winds were stronger and where I would be
outside the coastal shipping lanes. Then I would turn south on a course to stay
40 miles offshore and outside the southern California islands. Around 7 AM I
reached the point where I wanted to make the turn and start south. Laelia was
not cooperative. While I was sleeping she had slowed to the point that we were
making almost no headway. When I tried to make her turn, there just wasn’t
enough water going past the rudder fast enough to make it happen. I had to take
the mizzen down and do some more sail juggling to get set up on the new course.
The new course took us almost dead down wind. With the jib
out on one side and the main out on the other, we were making good time. The
self steering was keeping Laelia generally pointed in the right direction but
she was yawing (turning from side to side) through a range of 30 degrees. I
think there is too much friction in the setup to allow the vane to work better.
In addition, Laelia is not terribly happy with sailing downwind with waves
coming from behind or a little off to one side. When I steer manually, I have
to stay ahead by using the wheel to anticipate the yawing and start turning the
wheel a little before Laelia starts to yaw. I doubt that the vane will ever be
able to fully compensate for this.
To contrast this with Chatelaine and the 1975 – 76 trip to
Hawaii, Chatelaine had a tiller instead of a wheel. That is a huge reduction in
friction to be overcome to steer the boat. In addition, Chatelaine had a longer
keel which helped to dampen the yawing. I wish I could afford to convert Laelia
to tiller steering but it is not likely. I hope to make some improvements while
I am in San Diego. It will be good enough for the trip – just not as good as I
would like.
In the forenoon the sky was mostly gray and the air quite
cool – around 50 degrees. I sat in the cockpit wondering why it was that I
wanted to be out here where it was cold and rough. The sea was an unpleasant,
lumpy gray. As the day wore on, there was some sunshine and some warming.
Standing at the rail hanging on to the mainmast shrouds, I looked down into the
water and saw the distinctive blue color that told me I was in the deep Pacific
waters again. It has been 37 years since I have seen this. It cheered me
greatly.
The idea of staying outside the shipping lanes was working
well. I saw very few ships – although one did pass within about ½ mile. I don’t
know if they saw me but I say them and I was not comfortable with being that
close.
One very puzzling phenomenon surfaced. When I am lying in my
bunk, I hear voices. It sounds like people talking but just far enough away
that I can’t quite understand the words. Sometimes it sounded like an NPR
interview involving a man and a woman. No music – just conversation. I hunted
around the boat trying to locate the source of the sounds but I couldn’t
pinpoint it.
The wind picked up some more and I reefed the main (pulled
it part way down and made it smaller.) This slowed Laelia down a bit, made the
ride a bit more comfortable and reduced the strain on the rigging. This was the
first time I had reefed under sail. I had rehearsed reefing with the boat tied
up in a slip and no wind – quite different from doing it with the boat rolling
and pitching and the wind blowing. I am happy to report that it all went
smoothly.
2 Jan 2014 – Thursday
The wind dropped off around dawn. I pulled down the working
jib and found that my brand new tanbark sail had two tears in the cloth near
the luff (the leading edge). This is upsetting – this is supposed to be the
sail I will be using a good bit of the time when the wind starts to pick up
into the 10 – 20 knot range. It is heavy, stiff cloth and should be quite
rugged. I will be talking to the Hood sail maker people about this when I get
to San Diego.
Getting the sail down and bagged was a lot of work. The
stiff, heavy cloth does not take kindly to being stuffed into a sail bag. By
the time I had it bagged and stowed below deck, I was sweaty and starting to
feel seasick again. I replaced it with the genniker. This is a colorful, light
weight nylon sail meant to be used when there is less than 10 knots of wind and
we are reaching or running (the wind is out to the side of the boat or behind
it.) See picture to the right. I was
able to get it set and get below to lie down without throwing up again but it
was close!
One of the improvements I had installed when I had the
standing rigging replaced was the running pole. In the picture, you can see a
pole holding out the corner of the genniker. There is a definite learning curve
associated with using the pole. It is difficult to impossible to change its
position if there is much pressure on the pole from the line leading through
the outboard end of the pole. Also, getting it started from the up-and-down
stowed position to the horizontal position takes some finagling. The topping
lift (the line that lifts the pole to the horizontal position) is almost
parallel to the pole when it is stowed. I have to wait for the boat to roll
toward the side I want the pole to be set. The pole swings outboard and I pull
on the line to bring it to the horizontal position. As the trip wore on, I got
better at this but I suspect there is a better way to set things up. It is
another item to be worked on when I get to San Diego.
The solar panels are not keeping up with the drain on the
batteries. I had the foredeck light on for the better part of an hour last
night while I was doing sail changes and reefing the main. In addition, the AIS
is on all the time (0.5 amps) and the masthead navigation light is on all night
(0.4 amps). Additional loads are the carbon monoxide detectors (0.6 amp,
continuously), the solenoid to open the propane valve so I can cook (1.0 amp
while I am cooking) and cabin lights (0.5 – 1.0 amp intermittently). This isn’t
a lot. It should not be hard for the panels to keep up with. Granted, there was
some cloud cover during a good part of the day. I ran the engine for about an
hour when the going got slow – mostly to charge the batteries. I also pulled
the fuses for the carbon monoxide detectors. The probability of needing them is
quite small. They weren’t installed when I bought Laelia. The surveyor wrote up
the lack of them up as a deficiency. The insurance company required me to
remedy this deficiency before they would issue insurance. Now, they are a big
liability since they put a constant load on the electrical system.
By the end of the day, I had all the sail that I could
summon up and drawing – main, mizzen and the genniker. Laelia is happy –
rolling along at an average of about 5 knots. In the late afternoon, I realized
that what I thought was a cloud bank to the east was actually mountain tops
along the Big Sur area. As darkness fell, I could see scattered lights along
the eastern horizon. They were gone by morning.
3 Jan 2014 – Friday
The wind got light and shifty during the night. I spent a
lot of time managing the sails – gybing (changing them from one side of the
boat to the other), trimming (pulling them in closer to the boat) and easing
(letting them back out.) It makes the night go a lot faster! I have fallen into
the routine of setting a timer for 40 minutes during the night. Either the
timer or the change in boat motion wakes me up and I check on sails. The other
thing that wakes me up is the AIS – the collision warning system that lets me
know that there are other boats around. Nothing came very close, but when the
alarm goes off, I pull out the binoculars, check out the oncoming boat and
monitor it until it has passed.
The first time I had to gybe everything, it took about an
hour. There are three sails involved and it is important that the main and
mizzen be under tight control when they swing from one side of the boat to the
other. If not, they come across the boat at high speed and they can destroy the
lines and fittings attached to them. The procedure for gybing goes something
like this:
·
Set the wind vane to steer the boat dead down
wind.
·
Change the running pole from one side of the
boat to the other.
·
Pull the jib across to the new side of the boat.
·
Get the jib trimmed so it is stable and pulling
well.
·
Pull the main in to the boat centerline.
·
Change the boom vang from one side of the boat
to the other. The boom vang is a block and tackle arrangement attached to the
main boom and the base of a lifeline stantion. Pulling it up tight keeps the
sail flat – a more efficient configuration – and it keeps the sail from
accidently gybing if I am asleep or I am not paying close attention.
·
Let the main out on the new side of the boat.
·
Do the same sequence with the mizzen.
The first time I did all this, I spent a lot of time
figuring out how to deal with the running pole. It got better as the trip work
on but it provoked a lot of heated comments this time!
It was mostly overcast today. I ran the engine for another
hour to charge the batteries.
Things are starting to fall into a comfortable rhythm. I am
enjoying being at sea again. Still, I am looking forward to warmer air and more
sun. On the other hand, the thought of sailing into San Diego has me feeling
mildly panicked. How do I stay awake enough to dodge traffic and keep from
running into the coastline in an undesirable place? I can shorten my alarm
intervals to 20 minutes. The AIS seems to be doing a good job of alerting me to
traffic – but still I worry!
4 Jan 2014 – Saturday
Got lots of sleep during the night – too much. Either I
forgot to reset the alarm after one of my sail checks or I slept through it. No
damage done – I have lots of room between here and the nearest land. Still, it
is not something I want to happen when I get closer to land.
I can hear classical music on KUSC in Los Angeles. It is
wonderful to have some sun and coast along listening to Jaqueline Dupree
playing a cello piece by Boccherini.
Around noon, I reached the point where it was time to start
steering toward land again. San Marcos Island is off to port somewere – I never
did see it or any sign of it although it is only about 10 miles away.
When I went sailing back in the 70s, navigation was all dead
reckoning and celestial. This trip would be nerve wracking navigating that way.
There has been so little opportunity for sun and star sights because of the
cloud cover. That would mean keeping track of position mostly by closely
monitoring boat speed and direction and guessing at how much the California
Current affects me. I am grateful for GPS. I get reliable position information 24/7,
regardless of weather conditions. GPS devices have gotten so inexpensive that I
have at least four devices on the boat that give me latitude, longitude, speed
and course information at all times.
Winds have been light and variable all day. After dark, they
fell off to nearly nothing. Laelia is moving so slowly that the wind vane won’t
steer properly. The vane requires some wind to make the steering vane tip one
way or the other and it requires about 2 knots boat speed to operate the oar
that pulls on the lines attached to the steering wheel. When the wind gets
light and Laelia is moving slowly, I have to steer by hand. It is peaceful and
satisfying to do it – for a while.
At night it isn’t always easy to tell which way the boat is
pointed. The usual tool for doing this is the compass. Unfortunately, the way
things are wired on Laelia, there is no compass light unless I turn on the set
of navigation lights that are supposed to be used when the engine is running. Not
only is that incorrect when we are under sail, that set of lights is not LED –
and they use a lot of electricity. When the sky is clear, I can use the stars
as a reference to keep the boat pointed in the right direction and use a
flashlight to take occasional looks at the compass. This evening, there is a
cloud cover – no stars to be seen. I had picked out a light on the horizon that
I thought was based on San Clemente Island and I was using it as a reference
for steering. Over the next hour, I realized that it was the lights of a ship
headed off to the south of Laelia. I was gradually turning farther and farther
south as the ship passed.
Finally, there was no wind at all. I stowed the jib and
sheeted the main and mizzen in tight so they wouldn’t swing back and forth and
cause damage. There wasn’t much in the way of wave action but still I started
feeling queasy. I have been two days without wearing the patch and this was the
first time I have felt any discomfort. Rather than risk another bout of
seasickness, I applied another patch.
Then I slept. I still made my 40 minute checks but there was
nothing to do most of the night for lack of wind.
5 Jan 2014 – Sunday
For a change, it was sunny most of the day. I got my first
full change of clothing since leaving my slip in Alameda. It was so pleasant
that I spent some time on deck sans clothing. The sun felt good but the wind
was a bit chilly. Before long, I was back to sweat shirt and jeans – but at
least they were clean and not so smelly.
As I am getting more comfortable with the boat routine, I
start having more time to think about things other than just surviving. With the
sun shining and the boat moving so smoothly, I couldn’t help but wish that Judy
was here to enjoy it with me. It is totally relaxing – an opportunity to just be instead of having to be so focused on
doing. If only there were a way to transport her back and forth to enjoy times
like this and not have to put up with the more demanding parts.
I also started thinking more about food. I got out some of
the recipes that Judy had found for me and made a big pot of black bean and
sweet potato stew. It required a bit of creative thinking since the recipe
called for black beans and I had none. It also called for vegetable broth. I
thought I had some, but if I do, I couldn’t find it. I substituted kidney beans
for black beans and dried black bean soup for vegetable broth. It worked well enough
to make a delicious dinner!
6 Jan 2014 – Monday
Drifted most of the night again. Although there was no wind
to speak of, Laelia was making about ½ knot to the north and drifting closer to
San Clemente Island. About 0530 I decided to turn on the engine long enough to get
around the southern tip of the island. Out of curiosity, I turned on the depth
sounder to see how deep it was. The depth sounder showed no reading – meaning that
it was too deep to get a reading. Just moments after I turned on the sounder, a
couple of whales surfaced nearby and spouted. Coincidence? I don’t know. I have
heard some reports that seem to indicate that whales hear depth sounders and
sometimes take offense. I turned it off – just in case.
As I motored, there were numerous dolphins around the boat.
Sometimes the appeared to be playing with the boat – swimming alongside in
pairs, diving and coming up just ahead of the boat.
Once clear of San Clemente, I shut the engine off and went
back to sailing. Most of the day the winds were so light that I had to hand
steer. I had hoped to be within cell phone range by evening but it quickly
became apparent that it wasn’t going to happen. I miss my daily 9 PM phone time
with Judy.
The solar panels were doing a good job today – 24.3 amp
hours of charging. That’s about what the boat uses on an ordinary day so we are
breaking even today.
7 Jan 2014 – Tuesday
Lost the wind again after dark. Mostly drifted. Winds were
light and variable after sunrise. Started out hoping that I would make it in to
San Diego today but it quickly became clear that it wasn’t going to happen. I
was busy doing sail trimming. It seemed that as fast as I would adjust the sails,
the wind would switch to a different direction. None of the directions were
good for pointing directly at Pt. Loma. Frustrating!!
By dusk, I was about 12 miles from Pt. Loma – and almost no
wind. I don’t want to be sailing into the harbor in the dark. It has been too
many years since I have done that to feel terribly confident. And then there is
the question of where to go when I get inside. I would rather get there in
daylight.
There is a lot of helicopter traffic and there is a navy boat
describing itself as Warship 100 steaming around in circles doing some
exercise. There is enough other shipping activity to make me a bit nervous. I
decided to heave to for the night. That involves having turning the boat into
the wind as if I were going to tack but keeping the jib on the windward side of
the boat. I had the main pulled out to the other side and held there with the
boom vang. In this configuration, Laelia was drifting northward and about ½ knot.
I kept my usual schedule of waking up periodically during the night. There were
no AIS alarms for nearby boats.
8 Jan 2014 –
Wednesday
Made it past Pt. Loma – finally. There was a light southwesterly breeze most of the day. Laelia was close hauled on starboard tack and just barely managed to squeak by Pt. Loma without having to tack. As we were coming around Pt Loma, an aircraft carrier was going out. I was careful to stay well away from it!
Once inside Pt Loma, I got real busy getting the sails down
and stowed. The breeze had fallen so light again that the self steering wouldn’t
steer the boat. I had to keep going between the sails and the steering wheel.
It must have looked to any observers like I was drunk.
With the sails finally stowed, I motored to the area behind
Shelter Island looking for the Southwestern Yacht Club. I found the yacht club
but no signs pointing to a guest dock nor were there any apparent vacant slips.
I gave up and started to motor away when a man on the dock called out.
“What are you looking for?”
“Guest dock,” says I.
He pointed me to a vacant slip and told me that the owner of
the slip was away and I could use it for the evening. Great! I got into the
slip and tied up. I made a quick change of clothes in the hope that no one
would get close enough to tell that I hadn’t had a shower in over a week and
went to the clubhouse to sign in as a guest. 
The office was closed but one of the friendly members showed
me where to sign in and invited me to join his party for dinner. He even bought
me my first drink as a welcome to San Diego. I enjoyed a salmon fillet and
conversation with several club members before I returned to Laelia and crashed.
I slept through the night quite soundly for the first time in over a week.
9 Jan 2014 – Thursday
I went to the club office to inquire about a guest slip.
There are none available. I moved on down the bay to Harbor Island WestMarinia, slip #229. It looks like this will be home for at least two weeks
while I fix things and wait to see how things work out in Mexico.
After getting checked in, I went back to the boat feeling
let down, depressed. For the past week I have been living in a world where all
I had to think about was simple things like navigation and sail handling. Now I
am back in “the real world.” The part about getting things fixed and ready to
move on is not so bad. The part about money is not so good. I had thought I
would be taking off with some money in the bank. Instead, I am several thousand
dollars in the hole. That means that for the next six months or so, I will be
living on very short rations while I pay off my credit cards. I suppose it isn’t
all that bad. At least I get to make the trip.
Shortly after I got back to the boat, I got an email from
Judy that her cat, Karma, had died. It was not unexpected. She had been
diagnosed with lymphoma at the same time that her other cat, Oz, had to be put
to sleep. Karma was a wonderful companion. She would come up to Judy and tap
her lightly with a paw to get Judy’s attention – and then she would talk. She
had a vocal range that I’ve never heard in a cat. She would say something and
Judy would say something back. Karma would stare at her intently, listen and
answer. After Oz passed on, Karma started curling up in Judy’s lap when Judy
was sitting on the patio reading – utterly content and purring loudly. It had
become increasingly obvious that the lymphoma was spreading and that Karma was
suffering. It is good that her suffering is over but she will be missed.
