Viva La Mexico. A new chapter has begun as Sampaguita arrived in Baja California’s Ensenada this morning about 10AM.
It was a long slog from San Diego that took about 25 hours. But we weren’t the only ones. We planned on an all day and an overnight, but apparently that’s the sail du jour. There were no fewer than four of us who did the same thing. The crux of the biscuit is about getting to Ensenada early enough to take care of the arrival formalities, and those folks don’t work overtime.
Sampaguita left the Port of San Diego Guest Dock at about 8AM and headed up to Pearson’s Fuel Dock to top off the gasoline and propane reserves. Buzz had no qualms about filling a one gallon jerry can and .8 gallons of propane. It seems ridiculous but that is small boat consumption for you. Shame on me for being so un-American. No apologies. And I shouldn’t have to. Those small amounts of fuel last me a long time. Ironically, and maybe you’ve heard me say it before, people can’t be bothered serving customers who only use a little. It turns out that, in California especially, you have to be a consumption pig to to get respect and not be nicked with costly minimum charges for only using a little. If you think you are going to save the planet, forget it. The economy is going to burn it up. So enjoy it while you can. That’s what I’m doing. And Kudos to old man Don Pearson(who I met) who is clearly grounded in yesteryear and its values.
I spent the week provisioning from several different angles and the water tanks are brimming. Sampaguita had a nice six day rest too. We sailed off Pearson’s dock and headed south with wind that kept coming and going. Start the motor, Turn it off. Rinse and repeat. With the excitement and anxiety of getting to Mexico, the traffic, and the ever changing conditions, no rest was to be had. I would nod off on occasion in the supervisor’s chair, but then the boat would lurch and I’d nearly fall forward down the companionway, or backwards into the cockpit. Actually, it was kind of hilarious.
So I arrived in Ensenada exhausted and delirious, but ready to take on Mexican bureaucracy in a language I only have a weak grasp of. But never fear, here at Baja Naval, the most affordable marina in town, Yajahira was all about getting her three new arrivals through the process. For a fee of only $30 each she took care of everything. She had all the papers needed and then walked us all to the Immigration/Port Captain/TIP building and in kinder words, told us to shut up, don’t ask questions, and sign on the dotted lines. Don’t even think about declaring anything. It turns out the other three marinas had a representative there handling their customers too. And they do this everyday, so they have a rapport with the bureaucrats. In fact, I think the bureaucrats are disinterested in dealing with the gringos and you are much better off in Yajahira’s hands. And its Mexico, so don’t worry about it. You personally can’t get away with it, but if you hire a local, it’s all smooth sailing. Under my delirious state, it was thirty dollars well spent. It went fast, you know it was done right, and you go on with your day. A bargain.
So I went to the supermarcado, bought a six pack of Corona for $4, four tilapia fillets for $2 and an assortment of other groceries dirt cheap. Food for thought the next time you go to your American supermarket and buy the same beer from the same factory, going through just as many hands, for over twice the price. People appear so vibrant here, in comparison to Newport Beach, where the fanciest dressed people with the world’s finest cars all walk around with void faces. On the flip side, I also chuckled rather than judged, as I walked through the boatyard here and they were sanding the bottom of a Nordhavn yacht. The workers had all the right PPE but no vacuums for their electric sanders. It’s some places that’s a criminal offense. However, not your country, not your choice. To each their own.
I’ll get a good nights rest tonight, enjoy my Corona, and even take a shower. If I remember how.
Boat Hack: If it’s not broke, don’t break it fixing it.
Thank you Latitude 38! This is my first hard copy publication with them (but it’s online too) and appears in the November 2023 issue. Special props to Monica and John for looking out for The Resourceful Sailor. The Resourceful Sailor’s Whale Tales appears in the Sightings section of the mag and highlights some whale encounters I had on my journey down the West Coast in Sampaguita, a Pacific Seacraft Flicka 20, this fall.
The link is below, but if you prefer a hard copy, there are lots of places to get one. I’m presently in San Diego and see them in the stand outside The Marine Exchange. You never know, the copy you pick may have the Golden Ticket inside.
Sampaguita sits at the Shelter Island Guest Dock, in San Diego Bay. We’ll be here for a few days getting our ducks in a row. Looking back, the last time Sampaguita was at a dock was Morro Bay. That doesn’t count being on a buoy at Cat Harbor, Santa Catalina Island for two nights. Being on a buoy is like being at anchor.
As we have moved from anchorage to anchorage here in Southern California, I was reflecting on getting some good days of sailing. Sampaguita’s sail from Bonita Cove was another great day. In a very light offshore breeze we sailed off the anchor. The water was calm, Sampaguita maintained steerage, and we were able to sail out the channel into the Pacific.
When arriving at Mission Bay, we entered just after the ebb had started. The boats leaving were pitching some on the way out, so I was a bit concerned, from being able to hear the surf all night, that the channel could be choppy. It worked out the back hour of the flood was a good time for us to leave, so I took advantage of that. No chop, just long low surges and easy to sail through.
Once in the ocean, I changed out the 100% jib for the drifter. Having the drifter on inside would have been great, but the jib is easier to tack in light winds, so for maneuverability sake, I used that. The wind backed around to the prevailing NW and steadily increased as Sampaguita rode it south.
By the time we neared Point Loma, Sampaguita was doing over four knots broad reaching on a port tack. As we began to make the giant u-turn around the Point, I dropped the drifter and returned the 100%, weaving through the lobster pots, on a reach. Turning into the wind getting compressed by the Point, first one reef was taken in the main, and then a second.
Reefed down and close hauled, we tore up the channel in a relatively flat sea, with only the wakes of gun-metal grey boats steaming by. I could hear Corvo’s (a Thunderbird back in PT), skippers in my mind, “Use the puffs to climb when you can.” This kept me on the windward side of the channel, so we laid Shelter Island on one long exciting tack. And I wasn’t the only one. You don’t get that kind of sailing on the open ocean.
The day was filled with helicopters, hovercrafts, and assault carriers making continuous turns to starboard. I’m either in the safest place, or the most dangerous place. There is quite a buzz here. Lots of sailboats too. I missed the exit of the Baja HaHa fleet though. It must have been a spectacle as there were something like 113 boats.
The dock here will suit my needs just fine, and fits in my budget. It’s exciting to have finished another leg of the voyage and prepare for a new. It looks like Roseville will provide most-to-all of the goods and services I’ll need, with a good bit of walking exercise to boot.
P.S. – I fell asleep last night to the sound of helicopters in the distance, and Daryl Hall and Daryl’s House Band with Special Guest Todd Rundgren emanating across the water from Humphrey’s Concerts By The Bay. I CAN cope with that.
I love it when a plan comes together(80s reference.) Sampaguita did another overnight trip to get to Bonita Cove, Mission Bay, from Dana Point.
We had used up our five days anchoring allowance in Dana Point in our holding pattern as we wait for the Baja HaHa boats to leave San Diego. My understanding is we’re allowed three days here, which means I’ll move to San Diego Bay on Monday, the day they are scheduled to leave. That is unless the hurricanes have spooked them. But the Grand Poobah of the event seems committed to the date. Either way, I’ll have to move on and that’s the only place to go.
Regarding Dana Point, there was good and bad. Having five days was great. However, the Harbor Patrol is the Orange County Sheriff, and their conditioning and training has the young white men posturing and generally being unfriendly. They come around and flash their bright spot light on everyone’s boat to let you know they’re watching. It’s a put off to their profession.
Also, Dana Point has very limited shore access. I think they really just want you to pony up for a slip. The access was enough to go to the stores for provisions, but that’s it, so ironically they are limiting your ability to spend money on shore. Unless, I repeat, you pony up for a slip too. While I could use a shower, that’s a really expensive one. The rest of the time you are restricted to the boat. That said, it was fine as I don’t go to restaurants anyway and am good at keeping myself entertained. (And since it’s just me, being a bit dirty is fine.)
Though a high end community, they can’t hold a candle to Newport Beach when it comes to conspicuous consumption. But don’t think everyone who lives there is over-the-top. Once you get away from the shore and head to the Albertson’s, the Trade Joe’s, the Ralph’s, or the gas station, you see the regular people. Phew. As for Newport Beach, while mind blowing regarding wealth, they offer excellent shore access, goods and services, and a considerate civilian harbor patrol that even granted me an extra overnight upon request. I had no problem not washing my dishes, and thus, not discharging grey water as requested. (Not to be confused with black water, which is sewage, which you’re not really allowed to discharge anywhere inside three nautical miles of shore.) Mutual respect pays off.
As for Sampaguita’s overnight, it was only fifty miles, but I’ve developed a mantra recently. “If we can’t get there before dark, there is no hurry to get there before dawn.” Entering an unknown harbor at night is risky, not to forget the crab/lobster pot minefield that’s often at an entrance conspiring to foul your propeller.
We sailed off the anchor with the prevailing Northwesterly that had us doing four to five knots most of the way. With about ten miles left, the dark arrived and the wind faded. We rolled in a dead calm all night long unable to even heave to for mitigation. There were no boats within a few miles of me throughout the evening, so I was able to lay down, but sleep was mostly impossible with the rolling. I’ve learned to expect it. It’s part of boat life, which I enjoy, so I must enjoy that too, right?
When the sun rose, the wind did not, so we motored up and headed to Bonita Cove, where there was plenty of room. My plan was to get here in the AM, so as to hopefully get a freshly vacated anchor spot and beat the local weekend crowd. Success. It started filling in as I wrote this.
EVENT: I was passing a safe distance from Camp Pendleton, purposely outside the restricted area where there were no fewer than three military helicopters doing some sort of exercises, when I saw a can floating in the water. I was close enough to see that it was a sealed can of Pacifico. The wind was about ten knots and my pace was about four. I thought about it for five to ten seconds, before I committed to picking it up. I was on a broad reach when I tried to quickly tack around. That just put me in irons. So I fell back off and gybed around instead. The beautiful thing about a small boat is a controlled gybe is easy to do in even heavy wind, which this wasn’t. The sail, thus the power, is very manageable. I kept an eye on the can, like a proper MOB drill, powered up and beating, made my first approach. Not close enough. But my second approach was spot on and I was able to simply lean over the side and pick it up. That’s another thing about a small boat. Try doing that on a Westsail.
BOAT HACK: Cabbage lasts weeks without refrigeration, even in Southern California. Sampaguita does not have refrigeration and the chore of keeping up with ice has never appealed to me. Over the past ten years of living aboard I’ve learned the foods I can keep and those I can’t. So I just eat those I can. The FDA requires foods to have refrigeration labels, but I’ve learned those are suggestions to mitigate litigation. Many things are just fine. Part of my voyage south is adjusting to the warmer temperatures regarding food storage and that is going fine too. So forget the lettuce which will only last a day and accept cabbage as a substitute. It even costs less. Bonus.
OBSERVATION: The Salish Sea (aka Puget Sound and connecting waters) has plenty of Navy and military facilities. A huge boat yard, a nuclear submarine base, F-18 Growlers, and there is a weapons depot just across from Port Townsend. (Funny story. When I first arrived in Seattle and was reconning on Google Earth for expeditions in my 60s era Grumman canoe I saw Indian Island. I thought to myself, “They must be developing that area now because it looks like a bunch of culdesacs have been built.” Stupid me! I was to eventually learn those were not culdesacs, but weapons bunkers!) What we don’t have much of is military exercises on the water. But here in Southern California you better be listening to your VHF radio because several times a day I have heard something like “This is Warship XXX, at position XX° XX.XXX’ N, XX° XX.XXX’ W. We are conducting live fire exercises. Mariners are advised to stay 8 nautical miles away.” No problem! Or “This is Warship 72 (an aircraft carrier) at position XX° XX.XXX’ N, XX° XX.XXX’ W. We are doing continuous turns to port. All mariners are requested to stay well clear.” This one I watched. They did a good job.🤣 No matter how one might feel about this, national security and the defense industry are a big deal. Just ask the Ukrainians, or the Israelis, or the Palestinians, or the Iraqis, or the Afghans, or the South Koreans, or the Filipinos, or the Taiwanese. I haven’t even mentioned a country in Africa yet, but I’ll stop there.
“Securite, Securite, Securite. All stations, all stations, all stations. This is the United States Coast Guard Sector San Diego, United States Coast Guard Sector San Diego, United States Coast Guard Sector San Diego. Be advised. Out.”
Sampaguita. Sam′pə gē′tə. What a beautiful name that no one can understand on the radio, at least here in the States. It’s not any better on the telephone, or in person, for that matter.
All of the Harbor Patrols encountered so far are at a loss with it. It is also noted they have all been white. I mention this because Spanish speakers do not have any trouble with it. Nor Filipinos. In Friday Harbor, at San Juan Island in the Pacific Northwest, I encountered a customs official of Filipino heritage who lit right up when I told him the name of the vessel. “Ah, Sampaguita, that’s the national flower of the Philippines,” he said with obvious pride. For my fairer skinned readers who don’t think to “Google” it, it is known in English as arabian jasmine.
I can’t be credited with giving her the name. I inherited it when I purchased her over ten years ago. While I’m not the superstitious type, I also couldn’t be bothered with changing it either. In fact, the name was invisible until only this past August when I decided, for the ease of formalities, to re-paint it. This, I deem, was a good call. People have trouble wrapping their head around a boat with no name. So I gave them what they needed. And most still can’t handle it. But it becomes their problem, not mine, and is a good conversational ice breaker.
Sampaguita presently sits at anchor in the Dana Point anchorage. Previously known as Capistrano Bay, it was renamed after Richard Henry Dana, Jr., the author of Two Years Before The Mast. He spent time here with the merchant ship, Pilgrim, collecting cowhides from the local Spanish cattleman in the late 1830s. It’s a recommended read. I assume Pacific Seacraft’s Dana 24, the bigger stepsister of the Flicka 20, is also named after him.(Most Flicka owners have Dana envy, I am not excluded. However, that 20% more in length, costs way more than 20% more in dollars.)
It was a short day of travel here from Newport Beach, though it still took Sampaguita seven hours. We left early knowing the NW breeze would take a while to fill in. We sailed through and out of the harbor with a light southerly, so it required some tacking. The water was flat and the sails remained full, with just enough pressure. Once out of the harbor, we motored up for a while until the NW wind filled in. We got just enough to keep the boat moving downwind at 2-3 knots. However, once in the Dana Point Harbor, the local wind was considerably more, and on the nose. It seems to come in over the west facing cliff. It’s a small anchorage and we were lucky to get the last spot. We were visited and counted by the Harbor Patrol, who in this case, is the Orange County Sheriff. “How do you say the name of your boat?”
Observation: I woke up a little after midnight on October 21 in the Newport Beach anchorage. I brushed my teeth and sat in the companionway enjoying the quiet evening.
I happened to be looking north when I saw a strange thing. “Is that a shooting star?” “No, that is too bright and is visible for too long.” “What am I seeing?” I watched it for a few minutes as it passed overhead and out to sea. As it went, I recognized the vapor trails I used to see on TV in the 80s with the space shuttle launchings. Then I saw a bright light descending straight down from it out near Santa Catalina Island. After it was gone, I “Googled” something like “Did I see a rocket over Newport Beach tonight?” Sure enough, that was exactly what I saw. My first ever in-person rocket viewing. The descending bright light must have been the first stage booster.
October 21 Falcon 9 • Starlink 7-5
Launch time: 12:47 a.m. PDT (3:47 a.m. EDT, 0747 UTC)
Launch site: SLC-4E, Vandenberg Space Force Base, California
A SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket will launch another batch of 21 second-generation Starlink V2 Mini internet satellites from Space Launch Complex 4 East (SLC-4E). The Falcon 9’s first stage booster will land on the drone ship ‘Of Course I Still Love You’ in the Pacific Ocean
Updated: October 20
I often see the Starlink constellations streaming through the night sky. I am not enamored by The Elon Musk. However, I recognize that his vision and the human appetite for consumption have made him Emperor of The Western World. It is all much bigger than I or Sampaguita. It is easy to be caught up in day-to-day survival and not realize how fast we are rocketing(pun intended) into the future.
Two more things that have driven me to sea. One, “positive progress” is open to interpretation. Two, the world is changing so rapidly, I decided to go before I was not allowed to.
Well, almost. Sampaguita sits in the Newport Beach, CA anchorage, about as close as she can get by water. She was built by Pacific Seacraft of Fullerton, CA in 1985.
Sampaguita had an excellent sail from Santa Catalina Island to arrive in Newport Beach with the rising sun(and dense fog.) We had a fairly steady SE breeze of 5-10 knots crossing the San Pedro Channel which kept us moving on a starboard tack all night long. Between being in the lee of Catalina Island and an offshore breeze, the seas were quite moderate and the light wind propelled Sampaguita at 3-4 knots with very little sail slapping. The aura of Los Angeles glowed in the eastern sky and gave us pre-dawn lighting the entire time.
Since Sampaguita does not have a chart plotter, we used constellations, first Cassiopeia, then The Seven Sisters, to stay on course. For her captain, this is far more preferable than a constant high-tech glow of modern navigation equipment. This sounds romantic, and I suppose it is, but we are not complete Luddites. My handheld GPS unit, compass, and phone with Navionics are available and checked for reference. How do you think I knew which stars to choose?
We were kept company by the offshore oil platforms, Edith, Elly Ellen, and Eureka, and the local fishing fleet. That, and the VHF radio. I’ve noticed in southern California an increase in accents on the VHF. While English(mostly) is being used, it seems clearly a second language for some. It takes close listening to understand. As an aside, I’ve also noticed on my AM/FM Radio, there are many stations operating exclusively in languages other than English. I’m not sure if this was all less common in the Pacific Northwest, or I was just not paying attention. Likely both. I’m enjoying it.
Arrival in Newport Beach was otherworldly. With the fog and dark, the visual slate was completely blank. My familiar world of Sampaguita was all there was. Only as the fog lifted and the light prevailed was that slate filled and the visual went from zero to a million. The presentation of this place, which is unlike anything I’ve known, or only have seen on television, is surreal. I’m not yet prepared to describe it.
We are happy to be here and happy our arrival was on schedule, which, if you’ve been reading, has been challenging for a slow boat.
Observation: A few weeks ago, when I first entered Californian waters, the pelicans started to appear, en masse. They are like pigeons in New York or Eagles in Alaska.
Pelicans aren’t small. One clear and beautiful night off the Northern California Coast I was sitting in the supervisors chair in awe of the stars when a green blur appeared in the sky. This startled me before I realized it was a pelican illuminated by the bright green starboard side of my LED tri-color navigation light atop Sampaguita’s mast. I watched the bird circle around and head back our way. As it approached, I thought, “Geez, I hope that pelican flies over top of the mast!” It did not. It flew straight into the mast and rigging! It hit near the top and then dropped like a stone to the deck, landing two feet away from me. I’m sure I flinched, and should have ducked below, but the disbelief and brevity of the moment was too much. The pelican then rolled overboard.
It hit the rig just below the top, so luckily it did not damage anything, in particular, the light and the VHF antenna. I cannot say the same for the pelican. Oddly, it never said a peep. I suspect the brightness of the LED had something to do with the incident. Kind of like with cars and bicycles. They are good for the user, bad for anyone approaching.
Say that three times fast.
Sampaguita and I are still resting here at Twin Harbors. For logistical reasons, we decided there was no rush to get to San Diego. The Baja HaHa Rally boats are likely beginning to congregate there, and we don’t wish to compete for anchorages and services with that group. Since they are an organized event with the support of San Diego Harbor, it might be that Sampaguita could be at a slight disadvantage. They leave on October 30 and it is my intention to trail behind them, rather than in front of, or with them.
Here, at Santa Catalina, we are sitting pretty. With plenty of provisions and water, and a sweet(and free) anchoring spot, we can bide our time for a few days. We’ve grown to appreciate it here too. The hiking is great. The people watching is great. The weather is great. We’ve been able to do some writing. Sleeping is easy without the rolling.
There is an interesting mix of folks. There are the holiday go-ers. They mainly congregate on the Isthmus side and behave like regular resort-ers. I haven’t mingled with them. I’m sure there are some nice people, but with different life views and values. There are the employees, a lot of them of all different sorts, as it is quite an operation here. It explains why it is so expensive.
Then there is what I’ll call the “local” crowd. I mean that endearingly. This is the group I relate to the best. There is Jerry, with the Harbor Patrol. Super down-to-earth and kind. He has been doing this gig for eighteen months and lives on his boat not far away from where Sampaguita is anchored. The other night I came back to the boat to find six avocados in my cockpit. It turns out an avocado farmer moored in the harbor and gave him a five gallon bucket of them. So he distributed them around and threw in a couple of limes. As I said, super cool. I met an older woman named Robin who lives on her boat in the harbor. She apparently raised her family here. Then there are the fisherman, both sport and commercial, who use it for the occasional overnight. I appreciate commercial fisherman. They are the cowboys of the sea. No pretense.
That said, everyone is nice. We all say hi and wave to each other as we pass.
A shout out to Jim and Karen of Jim and Karen’s Excellent Adventure. They are Port Townsend-ites who sailed the Pacific Seacraft Dana 24, Sockdolager, across the Pacific Ocean several years ago. A Dana 24 is the big stepsister of the Flicka 20. They were kind enough to have me over for coffee this spring to answer some questions I had about voyaging. One of Karen’s tips was to get a portable shortwave receiver radio since I would not have an SSB(single-sideband) radio. This was a small and economical way to listen in to SSB nets, though I cannot transmit. I can also get the WWV(Colorado) and the WWVH(Hawaii) Time Ticks as an aid to celestial navigation. It is also an AM/FM radio, which, at this point is how I have used it most. Here in Cat Harbor I have been listening to the MLB playoffs on ESPN AM radio and the chaos in the Middle East on NPR FM. I have no favorites in the baseball games or the Middle East.
It’s nice to be away from the mainland but I am not beyond reflection. The disgusting things that humans do to each other, both at home and abroad, are part of what’s driven me to sea. So far, this lifestyle suits me and I haven’t missed the land life and all it’s trappings at all.
My sister thought Santa Catalina Island was a resort and a little posh. She is correct. But it’s a good refuge here in Cat Harbor and since Sampaguita draws so little water we are able to anchor in the back bay. This is good because the harbor entrance is the only other anchoring choice, and not at all a good one. That, or moorings are $60 per night. $60 for a 24 foot boat feels bad. I resist bad feelings.
Getting here was epic. The choices along the coast did not seem very good and some weather was coming in, so I did an overnight to get here, and still arrived two hours late. A special thank you to Jerry with Harbor Patrol for helping the after dark arrival avoid the shallows and pick up a buoy. My arrival was not savvy at all and he made it work out.
I’ve done some good hiking while avoiding the ridiculously priced amenities and tourists. Cat Harbor is on the back side of the island, while most of the mainlanders arrive on the north side, so it is much more chill.
I keep encountering Jeff and Susie from Sequim traveling on their Nordhavn 40, Irene. I first met them in Morro Bay and even if we don’t get a chance to speak, we recognize each other in an anchorage. While power boaters and a different fraternity, I like them.
Boat Hack: A bit about being little. Sampaguita is the smallest boat I have seen making this voyage this year. Also, the smallest any of the several other boaters I’ve met along the way have seen. As the Pardey’s famously say, “Go small, go now.” Go Sampaguita!
Observation: Sharks…Off the coast of Washington after being becalmed for a couple days, the water became glassy. Usually with waves and movement, there is enough reflection you really can’t see into the water. On this particular day, I was doing some maintenance, in particular sussing and preventing some new found chafe. I walked along the deck and looked down over the edge. I could see for hundreds of feet into the most blue and incredibly clear water I have ever seen. I could also see a shark about 40 feet below circling under the boat. That was sobering. My first ever such siting. It was about Josh sized, but I couldn’t tell the species. That day I saw three other sharks. Two of those other sitings could have been the same shark, but the fourth was smaller. I haven’t seen any since, but must assume they are there. It is the nature of things. The boat provides shade and little organisms too. This creates a food chain. Denial is futile. So I don’t. Honestly, land is full of “sharks” too, so it is a matter of keeping perspective. Humans, being at the top of the food chain on land, are adverse to the idea of being eaten, but 99 percent of the world’s species(at least) have to contend with being eaten on a daily basis. Just sayin’.
I spent two nights at the anchorage to the east of the famous Stearns Wharf in Santa Barbara. I had a good spot in the lee of the wharf.
A thanks to Andre of the Harbormasters Office, Officer Lombardi of the Harbor Patrol, and Joey at Santa Barbara Fasteners for their assistance. (It is their jobs, but being called back and actively taking part in solution-ing in a serious tone is good customer service.)
Since I wasn’t a paying customer to the Harbor, access to shore had its challenges. I called the office for direction because I know I’m not the first one in this situation. Since Sampaguita’s dinghy is a non-traditional choice, an inflatable kayak, Andre had concerns it might get cited, or worse, impounded, if it were left at the skiffs/tenders dock. While it would be easy to leave it on the beach, if unattended, it also might be impounded. No bueno.
Andre needed to speak to someone up the ladder for the best choice. This is when Officer Lombardi called. He said I had two choices. I could tie up to Stearns Wharf and climb up the ladder. This way I could come and go as I please, or I could tie up under the Harbor Patrol’s pier, but there would be logistical obstacles in coming and going. Since I was passing through, the fee would be waived.
I opted for Stearns Wharf because it was much closer to Sampaguita, didn’t take me in the opposite direction of the services I was in pursuit of, simplified logistics, and came with a bit of thrill!
I made this trip twice in one day in the process of provisioning, which was of great success. The most important bit only came to light as I was preparing to do the first Fuel/Trader Joe’s run.
I like to circle the boat when I get into the kayak to look over Sampaguita from that angle. This is when I noticed the lower unit of the outboard was missing one of two studs and nuts that hold it into the shaft. There was a 1/8 inch gap you could see daylight through. Uh-oh. New priority. (And that accounts for the new motor sound I had heard over the past few days, but did not understand.)
I don’t have much for metric fasteners aboard, so I sussed out the size I might need and called around to see who would have SS steel metric fasteners.
A place with Fasteners in the name seemed like a good choice and the location was walkable. I would use a hex head bolt with a flat washer and lock washer, rather than worry about putting a stud back in there. The original must have vibrated out before it got corroded into the cast aluminum housing permanently. I tef-geled the bolt so I would be able to remove it when servicing the water pump.
Trader Joe’s and fuel did also happen on that run and my lunch of TJ’s Sesame Chicken with asparagus was delicious. The second run was for propane. It’s been tough to find a place that doesn’t have a minimum refill charge. The tank I was filling is no more than 1.5 gallons. Some want it to be a $20 gallon of propane. Maybe someday, but not today. I walk away from those offers. Luckily, I don’t wait until the last minute. In my search for fasteners I noticed the local Ace hardware fit my bill for right sized and priced propane refills.
Boat Hack: On a small boat, crew is moveable ballast. At 160 pounds, I’m about 10 percent of the weight of provisions and stores in Sampaguita. So where I sit/stand matters. Here is the kayak seat I supervise from in the companionway. A compromise of keeping my weight low and forward, but high enough where I can keep a lookout.
It seems that everyone from California has been saying, “Get around Point Conception earlier rather than later,” in an ominous tone. Well, Sampaguita has done it.
In true Flicka 20 style, she rounded it in the dark last night. (The sound of the invisible surf can be ominous.) I say true style because she’s perpetually two hours late. It’s not her fault. Her legs are short, and can only expect to average about 3 knots, which is slower than a healthy adult walks.
She can only get there when she gets there. It’s not awesome, because it might mean anchoring at night in an unfamiliar harbor, or staying out to sea all night until it’s light, or fighting a tidal current, which means it takes even longer, but in true 2023 wordage, “it is what it is.” She has to plan for that contingency. We can’t all live the fat life.
Thanks to the fishing vessel Excalibur, who unbeknownst to them provided an abundance of light in the anchorage(fishing vessels run the brightest, most blinding lights seemingly all the time,) I was able to anchor at night in Cojo Anchorage at 22:30 and avoid the kelp beds(mostly) and buoys.
All this said, it was an incredible day of sailing. 58NM from San Luis Obispo Bay, with an average speed of 3.7 knots, well above the norm. Luck, I guess, because there was no refuge in between. Cojo Anchorage is a stones throw around Point Conception.
A California observation: If you are close enough to shore, after a sunset(and often in the morning too) when the land breeze picks up, the most incredible, pungent smell of sage displaces the smell of the sea. I can’t say that I mind. I could only hope to imagine a time before the nuclear power plants(Cape Buchon), the oil platforms(Point Arguello), and the other signs of “progress and civilization” were here. Sigh.
10 points to anyone who gets that distorted quote.
sailingwithjosh
Sailing With Josh 