Impressions of La Paz

As I related in the previous posting, one of my very first impressions of La Paz wasn’t all that good. Being stuck on a sandbar in the harbor does not do a lot to make me feel warmly disposed. However, that has fast dispelled. I will start with the cruiser scene since that’s what I saw first.

For starters – the weather here has been wonderful. It is a bit on the warm side and getting warmer but there is lots of sun, clear, sparking water and blue sky – much like Hawaii. It calls to me to relax, be happy. Moving back from the waterfront, it rapidly gets warmer and more arid looking. This is a desert even though it is surrounded by water.

I was fortunate to have my friends on Rocket Girl here to give me a few quick clues about the way things are here. For starters, there is the big party line in the sky. Most people monitor VHF channel 22A. It is used as a calling frequency with conversations held on other channels. A typical hook up on 22A starts out with something like “Wanderer, Wanderer. Laelia.” If Wanderer is listening he/she responds “Laelia. Wanderer. 65 and up.” That means that I should shift to channel 65 and call again. If that channel is in use, got to channel 66, etc. A certain amount of eavesdropping goes on – not that anyone would be silly enough to carry on an intimate conversation – but there is a lot of interesting activity in the harbor.

Mornings, except Sunday, there is a cruiser’s net (network) that meets on 22A – probably the only exception to using the channel for hailing. The net is run by someone on one of the boats here. It starts with asking for anyone with emergency, medical or priority traffic. This is when you jump in and ask for help with your salmonella, appendicitis, etc. Following that (not in this exact order) there is mail call – the local marinas and other common mail drops announce the mail they are holding. There is a swap and trade segment. Foreigners are not allowed to sell things in Mexico but there is a suspicious amount of trading going on for “coconuts.” There is a segment for people wanting rides or going someplace and willing to take passengers – another for help wanted/help needed. Another segment is for announcements about events of interest to the cruising fleet. The net wraps up with a call for general messages – anything that didn’t get handled so far.

Preceding the net, there is a discussion group meeting on another channel to hash over current events. The moderator reads off something that he probably pulled up on Google. People may make comments. The comments range from thoughtful and intelligent to clueless. Still, it tends to be interesting. Participants may also bring up any news item that they think may be of interest.

The community here in Marina de La Paz seems divided into two fairly distinct segments. There are the active cruisers and the long-term live-aboards. The long-term live-aboards tend to be older and somewhat cliquish. The cruisers are mostly here in the marina for a month or less to make repairs and get organized to move on. The cruisers tend to be more gregarious and quick to offer help.

Overall though, the atmosphere here in the marina is relaxed and friendly. I enjoy it.

But I didn’t come all this distance to live in the marina. My first expedition out was a simple walk down the Malecon (boardwalk). La Paz is justifiably proud of its Malecon. The water is clear and inviting. The beaches are white sand. There is a wide, undulating sidewalk behind a knee high wall separating the beach and the Malecon.

There are interesting statues ranging from a very new creation of a mirrored pearl in an open shell...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...to a mermaid hanging onto a dolphin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...to a very puzzling statue of a man wearing what looks like a small boat sideways at his waist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite this being the tourist section of a town that is a tourist destination, people on the Malecon are overwhelmingly Mexican in appearance. There is a small percentage of people (like me) who are obviously tourists enjoying the sights. People look relaxed, happy and prosperous middle class in appearance.

Oddly enough, even though the traffic is fairly heavy on the street paralleling the Malecon, there are no traffic lights. Some intersections have four way stop signs – some don’t. Despite that, traffic flows smoothly. I have heard only a two horns. One appeared to be friend honking at friend – light taps on the horns. The other was someone who obviously unhappy with another driver at a four way stop. The car doing the honking was coming from the marina street so he may well have been an impatient, rude Norteamericano.

The far side of the street is lined with shops, restaurant, hotels and other small businesses. A surprising number of the hotel-like structures appear to be unused. A fair number of the small shops are empty – some boarded up. It is an odd contrast of bustle and ruin.

There are sidewalk vendors and taxi drivers hanging about looking for business but for the most part they are fairly reserved by the standards of the run of the mill USA beach front. The only time I have been approached by one of the taxi drivers was when I was walking back to the boat after shopping. I was carrying a backpack full of food and a shopping bag with some more items. A simple “No, gracias” was all it took to discourage him.

 

 

 

 

Yesterday, I went grocery shopping for the first time. I decided to walk some of the streets a few blocks back from the Malecon. The first thing I noticed was that the city of La Paz seems to have put street signs at a low priority. Only about one out of four intersections have any sort of sign proclaiming the names of the streets.

 

 

 

I would have to say that sidewalks very much appear to be an afterthought. For the most part, they exist but they range from unpaved paths to narrow concrete slabs to elegant, wide, tile paved spaces.

The commercial and residential district are not rigidly separated in this section of town. A car repair shop stands on a corner flanked by residences. There are numerous vacant structures – maybe one out of five. Some appear to have been unused for quite some time. The structures are mostly concrete slab so they are not tumble-down – just unpainted and dilapidated looking.

When I reached one of the busier streets, the buildings were mostly shops with apartments and offices on the upper floors. Again, there were a surprising number of unoccupied shops and some entire buildings.

All along my walk I met people who smiled and greeted me. In front of many of the shops, a portion of the staff were standing and conversing with other shop keepers, by passers and friends. The overall impression was still one of friendly, happy people in no hurry.

The Super Mercado (super market) resembled the small grocery stores of the 50’s. It was not large – perhaps a quarter of the size of the average Safeway. The aisles were narrow. There was a surprisingly good selection of vegetables and fruits. Canned and bottled goods were similar to the ones we find in supermarkets but only one or two different brands of each item. The staff was friendly and tolerated my attempts at Spanish with smiles. It all worked out.

On my way home from the Super Mercado, I picked up a small, free English language newspaper that appears to be sponsored mostly by the local realtors who are selling to the gringo market. There was a long column bemoaning the fact that the big box stores are pushing out the smaller, family owned stores. Just off-hand, I know that Sam’s Club, WalMart and Costco are here along with Sears and Home Depot. An old, small store might have a limited selection of goods, but there were a lot of stores and a buyer could eventually find the desired item. This is being replaced by the big stores that have wide selections, well organized displays and fast service. Sounds a lot like small-town USA from the 70’s to now.

Overall, I would have to say that I like La Paz a lot. I might not want to be here later in the summer, but for now, the weather is wonderful. People are friendly, they smile a lot, they don’t appear to be in a big hurry. La Paz has the reputation of being the second safest city in the Americas. No drug wars are going on here. It is a tourist destination but not intensely so. When I got a few blocks back from the beach area, people appeared to be almost entirely Mexican. The stores looked like they catered to locals – not tourists.

I wonder what it would be like to live here a year – see the city through the seasons, improve my Spanish, get to know more of the residents. Who knows – it might be hard to return north after that.

Cabo to La Paz

I left Marina del Puerto Cabo feeling down and depressed. The forecast was for little or no wind for the next few days. I don’t have an autopilot so that means steering by hand all the time under power.

Despite that, my spirits rose once clear of the marina and out onto the Sea of Cortez. I was moving again, the air was warm and the scenery was quite arresting. Blue sky, blue water – CLEAR blue water. Looking over the rail, it felt like I could see down forever into the deep blue waters.

 

As I moved offshore, I watched the coastline drift by. There is a lot of development going on in the vicinity of San Jose del Cabo as you can see from the picture at the right. From the marina entrance until I rounded the first cape about 10 miles north, there was a steady procession of what appears to be new construction. I hope the Sea of Cortez can withstand the encroachment!

Once past the first cape, there were no other boats within 10 miles or so. I was a good five miles offshore. There were no more buildings lining the beach. Hmmm. Good time to work on my all-over tan. In short order I was motoring along dressed in just hat and sailing shoes. But only for about an hour. The Baja sun is pretty intense – especially on white, gringo skin that rarely sees the light of day. But what a freeing feeling it was for that hour.

The rest of the day was hot and uncomfortable. I was motoring at 5.5 knots and the wind was mostly from behind at about the same speed. That meant that much of the time I was feeling no breezes across the deck. The boredom was relieved briefly in the morning when I spotted what look like waves breaking against a rock directly ahead of me. I altered course to miss that spot – just in case. I was supposed to be in over 400’ of water. I soon realized that what I had seen was a whale surfacing just long enough to breathe and then diving. He/she did it again much closer to the boat. It was done all in one smooth motion – a bit of the head appeared and went back under followed by a LOT of back and finally his flukes came out of the water and disappeared again. He went by maybe 20 feet to port, well submerged. Comparing his length to the boat’s length, I would guess that he was over 20’ long. I saw him repeat the breathing process at about one minute intervals until he disappeared.

It was a welcome change to anchor in the bay at Los Frailes (the friars – priests, that is) and have the full five knot wind coming over the bow as Laelia’s anchor took hold in the sand bottom. Anchored in almost 30 feet of water, I could see the anchor on most of its trip to the bottom. Looking around, I was surrounded by sparkling waves, white sand beach and arid desert landscape. Gorgeous!

Los Frailes appears to be mostly deserted. There were a few houses, widely scattered, and a collection of campers who appeared to be fishermen of the tourist variety. One hailed me as I anchored and wanted to know if I had caught any fish. I’m guessing he hadn’t and was hoping to buy dinner.

After dark, it was dark – really dark. The moon did not rise until much later in the evening. With no man-made lights to compete, the stars put on a spectacular show. I could easily find my old friends – Ursa Major (big bear aka the big dipper), Polaris (the north star), Ursa Minor (little bear/dipper), Orion, Sirius – stealing the show by out shining all others, Betelgeuse and uncountable other. I woke up a few hours before dawn to find Venus low in the eastern sky looking as bright as an oncoming airliner.

After a relaxed breakfast, I got under way - 8:30ish. The leg from Los Frailes to Bahia de Los Muertos (Bay of the Dead) was a full eight hours of motoring with the wind dead behind me at boat speed all day. I put in another hour on my all-over tan in the morning before the sun got too intense, then cooked the rest of the day.

I say another whale – too far off for details and too quickly to get any pictures. Judging by how long it took from the time his head appeared until his flukes waved goodbye, he was a monster.

By the time I reached Bahia de Los Muertos, I was pretty miserable. I couldn’t stand the smell when I got downwind from myself. The logical thing to do was to jump overboard to cool off. Unfortunately, I don’t have a way to get back aboard the boat. The deck is a full three feet above the water and I have no boarding ladder. The next most logical solution was to empty out all the stuff I had been storing in the shower and actually take a shower. Radical concept! But I was desperate enough that it took only about five minutes to prepare the shower. It had been long enough since I used the shower that I forgot which knob was hot water and nearly scalded myself with water that was heated by the engine to just below boiling. Once I got that all straightened out, the shower – complete with shampooing my hair – was an unqualified blessing. The breeze that had been following me at 5 knots all day had risen to closer to 10 knots. Since I was securely anchored, I got the full benefit of all 10 knots.

I seized the opportunity to cut my hair. The 10 knot breeze meant that I could stand at the aft end of the cockpit cutting hair and it all blew overboard. No muss, no fuss. That added to my feeling of having shed a heavy mantle when I showered.

There were several homes and a restaurant on shore as well as a collection of fishermen similar to what I had seen in Los Frailes. There were five other boats anchored nearby. Judging by the total lack of activity on any of them, they must have been ashore – probably enjoying the restaurant. I was too tired to launch the dinghy and row in so, once again, I fixed dinner of canned stuff and crashed shortly after dark.

For the next day, I had the option of 10.5 hours of motoring and getting into La Paz as dusk was falling or settling for a mere 8 hours and anchoring at Puerto Ballandras abou 15 miles short of La Paz. I opted for the latter. Sailing into a strange port with darkness falling is not my idea of fun!

The days’ motoring was tolerable. There was a light breeze from abeam most of the day, moving around toward the bow as the day wore on. If I hadn’t had such a tight schedule and I could afford to sail into the night, I could have sailed for the last few hours.

Puerto Ballandras (at right) is a dent on the western side near the tip of the peninsula containing La Paz. It gave good shelter from the NW wind but there was enough swell that Laelia had fits of violent rolling durng the night. Looking out the next morning, I could see that the other boats were doing the same thing. I felt better. Misery loves company!

It is a curious thing – this phenomena of intermittent violent rolling. I could stand on deck and see no change in the wave pattern but every now and then, Laelia would start a slow oscillation from side to side that got bigger and bigger over a 5 – 10 second interval. The oscillation would build to a climax and then suddenly stop. No tapering off – it just stopped. The boats in the anchorage seemed to take turns doing this. I suspect that the rolling is influenced by boat hull shape, weight and rigging configuration.

I got under way a little before 9 AM, hoping to be tied up in the marina by noon. Fate decreed otherwise. The day did not go well after I cleared the bay. I had plotted out a course using software on my laptop. I downloaded the information to my hand-held GPS receiver. At the second waypoint after leaving Puerto Ballandras, my GPS device was telling me to steer a course that would shortly have me on the beach. Much head scratching and muttered cursing ensued. What I could see trumped what the otherwise infallible electronic device was telling me. After consulting my paper chart, I steered a course to stay a mile or so off the beach. The waypoint that was supposed to put me at the entrance to the channel leading into La Paz harbor appeared to be correct. I steered Laelia to that waypoint and looked for channel markers. Nothing! I kept motoring in what appeared to be the right direction and in short order I was aground. The good news was that the bottom was sand and mud – not rocks. Also, the wind had picked up and was creating little waves that would pick Laelia up far enough that she would move a few inches or a few feet.

Just after I hit bottom, I spotted a channel marker about ½ mile to port. I got Laelia pointed in that direction and kept the engine running at just short of normal cruise power. Over the next two hours, the channel marker drew closer at an excruciatingly slow pace. Finally, some compassionate soul in the marina on the other side of the channel came out in his dinghy to help me get free. I tied one of my jib sheets to my main halyard and he took that long line and motored out directly abeam to starboard and pulled as hard as he could. That made Laelia heel (tip) so her keel was not pointed straight down and she drew less water. After another five minutes of bumping along over the bottom, Laelia was floating free in the vicinity of the channel buoy. My Good Samaritan returned my line, waved goodbye and roared off toward his marina.

It took about 10 minutes to get to the vicinity of Marina de La Paz, My friends Dan and Dee Kent of Rocket Girl were at the marina and had told the marina that I would be there that day and wanted a slip. I motored into what appeared to be the entrance to the marina expecting to see a fuel dock or guest dock where I could tie up and go to the office to register. No such luck! The space inside was cramped and there was no obvious place for a guest to tie up. I backed up frantically until I was in position to go into an unoccupied slip. Several people appeared to help me tie up and informed me that the slip was taken and the owner was expected back soon. I gathered up my paperwork and trotted up to the office hoping to register.

Once in the office, a rather snippy young woman told me in no uncertain terms that I was NOT to do what I had done. I needed to get my boat out of there, anchor outside the marina and come back in my dinghy when they called me on the radio.

I did as I was commanded and anchored across the channel just outside the marina office. I untied the dinghy to be ready to launch when I was summoned, then collapsed into my bunk. It was only a little after noon and I was bushed!

A short time later, I got a call on the radio from Dan Kent. He had been to the office and talked to a different person than I had. She told him that I had been assigned to slip 217 and I could come bring Laelia in. Dan gave careful directions to come through the marina entrance and pass astern of the really good looking boat that was end tied just inside. Unfortunately, he had a different beautiful boat in mind than the one I looked at. I ended up entering a fairway that had a seawall on one side and boats side tied to the dock on the other. It looked doubtful that there was going to be enough room to turn around and because of the wind I couldn’t back up. I would have been pushed against the seawall in short order. Several concerned boat owners appeared on the dock wanting to protect their boats and, incidentally, to help me get turned around and out of there. There was one vacant tiedown. I put Laelia’s bow up against the dock in that tiedown and while the concerned boat owners held onto the bow, Laelia pivoted around her bow  with the wind pushing her stern on around with only inches to spare. The windvane lightly scraped against one of the pilings on the seawall but no damage was apparent.

Once turned around, it was a straight forward exercise to get the hell out of there. I motored past the beautiful boat I had spotted and saw another that I was pretty sure was the one Dan meant. It was. Getting into my slip and tied up was easy – once again aided by helpful, concerned boat owners. In the picture to the right, Laelia is the one with the American flag flying high. Just another marina, but also the end of a hard won leg of this adventure.

It took about half an hour to get registered. Dan and Dee (on the right in the photo) invited me to come on over to Rocket Girl when I was ready. I was presented with a welcoming handshake from Dan, a hug from Dee and a cold beer. Daniel and Heather (on the left in the picture) from Stormy Dawn – new acquaintances of Dan and Dee’s – joined us shortly. We laughed, drank more beer and ate Dee’s delicious chili as darkness fell. Shortly after darkness fell, so did I – right into my bunk. It had been a trying day but one that ended well. I was in La Paz at last.

Not all dreams come true

From the beginning, when I told people I wanted to circumnavigate the reaction was something like “At your age?” My response was something along the line of “I’m in good shape and I have experience doing this.”

I was wrong. The first four days out of Ensenada were enough to show me that. I have given up the idea of circumnavigating. I am going to spend some time in the Sea of Cortez, then head back north to San Diego. I will probably sell the boat there. I think my sailing days are fast coming to an end. Read on for details.

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The big day finally arrived. Sunday, March 9, I departed San Diego heading for Ensenda. As I was sailing out San Diego Bay, I reached for my phone to call Judy. AT&T had turned it off a day earlier than I wanted – so no phone service. That was when it really hit me. No more 9 PM phone calls. Fifteen to eighteen months of little or no contact. I had, of course, known this all along but somehow the emotional impact was unexpected.

With that sinking realization I watched San Diego disappear over the horizon.

Getting the boat down to Ensenada, through Mexican bureaucracy and back out to sea took my mind off the separation for most of the next three days. The hard part of getting to Ensenada is that it is almost a full day (24 hours) sailing time. Being that close to land and sailing through an area where I had been warned that there were lots of unlit fishing boats operating at night meant that I got very little sleep between San Diego and Ensenada. The sleep that I got was in 20 – 30 minute naps terminated by an obnoxious alarm that I set to make sure I didn’t sleep too long.

I got into Ensenada mid-afternoon on Monday. I checked into Cruiseport Marina and was informed that it was too late to go through the entry paperwork for bringing myself and the boat into Mexico. I wasn’t entirely sorry to hear that. I was so tired that I could hardly make sense of what was going on. I went back to the boat and slept for a solid 18 hours.

Tuesday, my first job was to get Mexican liability insurance for the boat. That entailed a walk of about a mile through the area of Ensenada that is immediately adjacent to the cruise ship dock. As you can see from this picture, the entrepreneurs in Ensenada have figured out what gringos want the most. I saw a number of shops with similar offerings.

I found the insurance office. I speak almost no Spanish and the woman who handled my transaction spoke limited English. It got comical at times, but in the end it all worked out. I walked out $250 poorer but with the needed insurance. When I got back to the marina, one of the marina staff drove me to the building where the entry paperwork was done and walked me through all of it. After all the horror stories I had heard about how complicated it was, it was a relief to make it in and back out in less than an hour.

I had done a lot of shopping for food in San Diego but I did not buy any fruit or vegetables since I had read that they would be confiscated. No one ever asked about fruit or vegetables or anything else I might have on the boat and no one came to the boat to inspect. I had planned to buy the things I thought I couldn’t bring into Mexico when I got to Ensenada but for some reason, I felt the need to get out of there as soon as possible. Partly it was a matter of not wanting to spend another $45 to stay another night. I paid for that dearly over the next days. A diet of canned food gets monotonous very quickly.

Departing Ensenada was no easier than getting in. It involved sailing all night through  Bahia Todos Santos (All Saints Bay), past some islands and (once again) keeping a sharp lookout for fishing boats. To complicate matters, the wind was light and variable. I was busy all night steering and managing sails. By the time I got out onto the open ocean, I was pretty tired again. The good news was that I was getting far enough away from land that I could safely sleep for longer periods of time – up to an hour.

It didn’t take long to discover that Laelia has some very unattractive characteristics sailing in the big swells of the open ocean. One is that when she is going down wind and the seas are coming diagonally from behind, she is very difficult to steer. Her short keel and beamy (wide) hull combine to cause her to yaw (slew from side) wildly. The Monitor windvane could not keep Laelia on a straight course. Her heading varied through a range of 20 t0 30 degrees each side of the desired course. Precise navigation is difficult under those circumstances. Her wide beam also made her lift very quickly as wave passed under her. Keep in mind that the waves were coming from the sides as well as from behind. That meant that one side would lift before the other. She would roll – and roll very quickly. It was a most uncomfortable ride.

I had a problem with my new jib ripping along the leach (trailing edge) of the sail on the leg from San Francisco to San Diego. I sent the jib back to Hood Sailmakers and they repaired it. Neither they nor I had any idea why it ripped. Now, I was seeing the same problem with the main sail. Two panels had rips along the leach seam. There was plenty of wind so I figured that I could get along without the main and sail under mizzen and jib until I got to a place where I could patch the sail. Shortly afterward, the mizzen started showing rips as well.

I contacted Hood via my inReach communicator and after several days of trading emails, they said they had run some tests on the batch of cloth the sails were made from and the cloth was defective. The cloth is not what Hood normally uses. They make their own cloth for normal sails but I asked for tanbark (reddish brown) sails. They bought the cloth from another vendor.

Hood is replacing all three sails – jib, main and mizzen. The interesting part is how to get them to me. Apparently air freight is not as reliable in Mexico – and there are probably some problems with customs as well. I may have to fly back to California to pick them up and bring them back as baggage – at Hood’s expense.

By the fourth night out, I was getting pretty tired. I had to make a sail change after dark with the boat motion being especially lively. The effort was about all I could manage. It was frightening to realize that if something else happened that required physical effort on my part, I might not be able to respond.  I was also feeling very lonely - with no prospect for change on the horizon.

My memories of my previous sailing experience were based on having a 30 year old body and no intimate relationships. Things have changed. I have a 70 year old body and a wife and children I miss very much. The 70 year old body does not have the stamina of the 30 year old.

To add to the misery, the boat motion was especially violent. It felt like a ride on a rubber ducky in a washing machine. Locker doors were flying open. It was hard for me to stay in my bunk even with the lee canvas in place (see the Rock and Roll posting if you don’t know what a lee canvas is.) This all came at the end of a day when I was feeling especially lonely. Single handing a boat is something like solitary confinement. At some point during the night, I decided that this isn’t what I want to do for the next 15 – 18 months of my life.

At first, my response was to turn around and go back to San Diego – immediately. I spent the next four days working my way north against the wind and currents. I saw a lot of the kind of scene in the picture to the right. At times, it felt like Laelia was airborne before she slammed into the next wave. At the end of four days, I was only as far north as Turtle Bay well less than half way back to Ensenada where I would have to check in to do the paperwork for exiting Mexico. The rips in the mizzen were getting larger so I decided to stop at Turtle Bay and see if I could patch them.

Turtle Bay is a nice, quiet little place with a small village on the north side of the bay. It is a secure anchorage with little wave action to rock the boat. After anchoring, I slept – a two hour nap followed by a wine and spaghetti dinner and another 14 hours of sleep.

The next day, I started in on the sail repair. The top picture shows the kind of damage I was trying to repair. I couldn’t really repair the rips. The best I could do was to cover them up with patches that would keep the wind out of the rip and (hopefully) keep the rip from spreading. The bottom picture shows my solution. This involved taking the main and the mizzen off their respective masts, spreading a portion of each sail out flat enough to work on and hand sewing the patch. This took most of two days.

When I announced that I was turning back, a spirited dialogue ensued between Judy and myself leaving me wondering if I had a place to come back to. The dialogue was carried on via my inReach satellite communicator which restricts emails to 160 characters. It is not a format that allows a lot of descriptive detail. We were later to figure out that there was a lot of miscommunication in that dialogue.

Considering all those factors rest, dialogue, sail repair and the problem of getting the replacement sails, I decided to continue on to the Sea of Cortez. I hate to turn back with nothing at all to show for this trip. I had friends (Dan and Dee on Rocket Girl) who had left about a week ahead of me, headed for La Paz. I also decided to try to make life easier for myself by breaking the trip up into shorter legs with rest stops.

The next stop was Bahia Santa Maria, just outside Bahia Magdelena. That was a two day and two night leg. On arrival at Bahia Santa Maria, the patches appeared to be holding up. I got a good night’s rest and continued on toward Cabo San Lucas.

I rounded Cabo San Lucas on the morning of March 28. The difference was immediately noticeable. For the first time in almost three weeks, the air was warm. I could shed my foul weather gear and be comfortable in tee shirt and shorts. A whale watching boat passed close by and I could see the whales they were following.

I elected to bypass the city of Cabo San Lucas on the grounds that it was morning and I didn’t want

to stop yet and the reputation of Cabo as a very touristy, expensive kind of place. I put in to Marina Puerto Los Cabos just outside the city of San Jose del Cabo. To my surprise, it is more expensive to get a slip here than it is in San Diego - $60/day here vs. $45/day in San Diego. It is a nice facility, fairly new, has wifi Internet connectivity and is well kept up, but certainly not fancy. The boats here are mostly sport fishing boats and mega yachts. It is obvious that there is a lot of money around here somewhere.

Once again, I fixed a wine and spaghetti dinner and crashed for a 14 hour nights’ sleep. Yesterday, Saturday, March 29, was mostly devoted to catching up on all the things I haven’t been able to do because of the lack of an Internet connection – pay bills, answer email, catch up on the news.

I had planned to spend only one full day here before moving on but I realized last night that I need another rest day before I push on. I will be on my way north to La Paz starting tomorrow. I will probably make stops at three anchorages along the way with a days’ layover in each before getting to La Paz.

So, that’s the story to date. I don’t know when I will have Internet again – certainly not before La Paz. I am looking forward to continuing at a more relaxed pace. I want to spend a couple weeks recuperating before I turn around and start the trip north. I will be a rough trip – against prevailing winds and currents. It is referred to by sailors as “The Baja Bash.” From what I saw in the days I was trying to go north, it is quite appropriate. But, more on that when the time comes.

Farewell to San Diego

I first came to San Diego from Washington, DC, in late 1974. I was part of a group supporting the installation of new software at the Naval Communication Station at Broadway and Harbor Drive. I came under protest. I had just bought my boat and started living aboard in Annapolis, MD. I was here in San Diego for about four days when I decided I did not want to go back. It all worked out. I got the job as site rep on the installation I was supporting. My company paid to truck the boat here and I lived aboard in San Diego Harbor from about March 1975 until Christmas Day 1975 when I set sail for Hawaii and on to Guam.

I have visited several times since and always felt there was something almost magic about the place. When I sailed into San Diego Harbor two months ago, it was homecoming of sorts. I instantly felt at home. An additional attraction this time was that daughter Alana now lives here. This would give us some time to visit - and as it turns out, we've been able to get together almost weekly for dinner and time to talk. So wonderful after years of living so far apart!

I arrived here with a list of three items to fix up before I left. I expected to be here two weeks and then go on to Mexico. As the previous blog relates, the list quickly grew to 16 items and beyond. I put off my departure for an additional two weeks because of problems with the Mexican government “embargoing” (impounding) boats for minor or imagined paperwork problems. Just before the two weeks was up, my transmission broke again. It was the same problem as I had about a year and a half ago – the damper plate splines were sheared off. In addition the splines on the input shaft to the transmission were ruined. I signed up for another month in my slip and started to work.

One of the unexpected benefits of the additional delay was that I was able to take a trip home to spend time with Judy. I had been worried that five days might be too long - that I would start feeling claustrophobic being in Placerville. It turned out not to be a problem. Our five days together flew by filled with talk, walks, good food, a visit to the restaurant where we had our first meeting - and much more. We also managed to also squeeze in two short visits with daughter Lane. The problems that kept me in San Diego have turned out to be a blessing.

The transmission problem was resolved without too much trouble or expense. Another Pearson 365 owner had a transmission identical to mine that he was willing to sell at an extremely reasonable price. I found a different vendor for the damper plate who had an improved, more robust version. The transmission was in Phoenix where the boat owner lived. Once again, Terry Hoffart came to the rescue. He and his wife, Heather, were planning to come from Phoenix to San Diego for President’s day. He picked up the transmission, paid the owner and brought it over. With his help, I had it installed and ready to run in a little under two hours. We had two enjoyable evenings on the boat and a day sail to try out the transmission. That’s Heather in the picture to the right.

While I was lining up the transmission replacement, I was also studying for the amateur extra class license exam. I took the exam Saturday of President’s Day Weekend. I think I aced it. All the examiner would say was “Well, you did rather well!” My new call letters are AG6YW. I have spent only a little more time tinkering with the installation because of all the other activities. The most recent change was to make the antenna wire as long as possible. I have been able to talk to a couple of stations with it. I think (I hope) that part of the problem is that I am surrounded by sailboats with metal masts and wire rigging that distort the antenna radiation pattern and result in a much reduced signal when I transmit. I will be trying it again when I get out to sea.

I was able to use the extra time to make several improvements. I modified the running pole installation to make it easier to use. I installed an inverter to provide 120 volt AC house current from the boat’s 12 volt DC battery system when I am not hooked up to shore power. I wanted this because I have a number of small items that run off house voltage that I have only been able to use when I am in a slip. The computer printer and the camera battery charger are a couple of them. I have to be careful about using it because it pulls a lot of current from the battery. To do this “all” I had to do was hook up two wires to the battery. But this is a boat and nothing turns out to be that simple. The first problem was to find a way to have a short cable run from the battery to the inverter. That meant pulling out all those bulkheads out the port cockpit locker that I installed a month ago. I had installed them with knowing that I might have to do that, so it was only moderately painful – after I pulled everything out of the locker. Chaos reigned again on deck. But, the job is done. The inverter works.

I have greatly enjoyed the people I have been associated with here in San Diego. Dan and Dee Kent on Rocket Girl hired me to go sailing with them and coach them on sailing their boat. They are experienced power boaters but this is their first sailboat. They didn’t need much coaching. We got to be friends as well and spent several evenings talking, laughing and drinking beer.

My immediate next door neighbors are Jason and Lauren on Perpetua. They bought the bare aluminum hull and spent the next four years getting her outfitted and ready to sail to the South Pacific. They had a rental car and have been quite generous in taking me along on shopping expeditions. We have visited back and forth and exchanged a lot of information and idea for our pending journey. Lauren is a radio amateur as well and we have set up a schedule to keep in touch once we leave here. And, as always seems to happen with boat people, we spent enjoyable evenings talking, eating and drinking.

Carl and Jan Paul on Sequoia scanned documents for me that I needed to have in digital format to send off to French Polynesia. They also gave me their duplicate copy of a cruising guide to the South Pacific and information on where to find charts and courtesy flags in San Diego.

 

What is a courtesy flag, you ask? When a boat is visiting another country, it is a courtesy to fly their flag from the starboard spreader. Often the "courtesy" is a requirement. Showing up without the proper flag flying can result in a fine and/or a requirement to buy a rather expensive flag. I have bought flags for Mexico, French Polynesia (the French Flag), Tonga, Australia and New Zealand. New Zealand is the protector(?) for several island groups in the Pacific. I hope to visit the Cook Island - one of the protectorates, hence the need for the NZ flag.

Greg Lakes on Whisper also gave me a lift several times to track down parts for the boat as well as being another source of ideas and conversation over beer.

I also made contact with Jane Wassel while I was here. Her husband, Stan, was my partner in support the computer installation when I was on Guam 1976/77. They split up after I left and she moved to San Diego. She and Stan reconnected here in San Diego shortly before he died of cancer. It has been fun to catch up on the doings and whereabouts of people I knew on Guam. I got to take her for a day sail so she could see what the boat was all about. She has driven down to the marina several times to go for brisk walks – she sets a mean pace! To top it all off, she drove me on a five hour expedition to do my final shopping for groceries and supplies. It would have taken me a lot longer and a lot of trips to do it by bicycle!

By the way, if any of you are concerned that I might run out of supplies on the 30 day leg to the Marquesas, check the picture to the right! I expect I will be able to get at least to Australia before I have to do any major shopping. I didn’t buy fruits and vegetables on this trip since many of those items would be confiscated when I enter Mexico. I will buy those items in Mexico. Finding places to store all of this has been a challenge!

Now it is time for all of us sailors to move on. Rocket Girl left a week ago and is now anchored just outside Bahia Magdelena on her way to Cabo San Lucas. I hope to catch up with them somewhere in the Sea of Cortez. Perpetua is leaving Sunday to the Marquesas Islands. Sequoia is leaving Saturday or Sunday to go to Mexico.

I have changed my mind again and I will be leaving for Mexico Sunday. The general opinion seems  to be that the Mexican government has been sufficiently embarrassed by the embargo fiasco and will not repeat it soon. The first leg will be an overnight hop to Ensenada where I can do all the paperwork for entry into Mexico with the boat. From there, I will probably go to Bahia Magdelena, stop for several days, then go on to La Paz and on to cruising in the Sea of Cortez. Sometime in early to mid April I will re-provision in La Paz and head for the Marquesas Island.

So – once again I leave San Diego with pleasant memories. The marina facilities are quite good and the management is friendly. The boating community has been wonderful. The weather has been pleasant (mostly). Sunsets are often spectacular enough to make me stop and watch. San Diego is a place that I want to come back to in the future.

For now, the die is cast - time to move on! I called AT&T today and my phone service will terminate Sunday at midnight. From here on, all email will be via wifi. I am set up on Skype in the hope of being able to talk to Judy and other family members.

On to Mexico!

San Francisco to San Diego

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.



Yaesu FT-890 SSB transceiver

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.

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.

There was little wind so I laid out the little genoa jib in preparation for starting to sail. A little after noon, I pulled up the anchor and started motoring toward the Golden Gate Bridge with the main and mizzen sails set. Once out into the slot there was a light wind coming off the ocean into the Bay. I got the jenny up, shut off the engine and started being a real sailboat. In the picture to the right, the Golden Gate is disappearing astern.

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.

As the day wore on, I was still feeling a bit off – not quite seasick but not totally comfortable. I alternated napping and time on deck. I was able to eat some of my rice and chili and drink lots of water. Living on a boat in motion takes a little getting used to. In the picture at the right, note that the stove top is level - the rest of the world is tilted.

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

About 0630, there was enough wind to start sailing again. The wind was from north and north-east so I hoisted the big genoa (aka big genny). The wind held for most of the day. Laelia ghosted along at 2 – 3 knots with the wind vane doing all the steering. I passed one patch of floating kelp with a small flock of seagulls feeding from it. Occasionally a seal would poke its head out of the water as well.

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!

I did some debugging of the solar panel problem today. I figured out that the panel on the starboard (sunny) side of the boat was not putting out anything at all. I messed around with the connectors a bit and it started to work! I have a loose connection in the portion of the wiring from the panel to the first connector. Another job to take care of in San Diego. Once the panel started working, it did a fine job of charging at 5 – 6 amps. The port side panel (shown to the right) added a little but it is partially shaded by the mizzen most of the day when the boat is on this course.

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 Southwestern Yacht Club is a first class operation! They have a 15,000 sq. ft. club house with a full time dining room and bar and several activity rooms. It is all mahogany and polished wood – very nice!

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.