- September 6, 2004: Departure Day!
- September 7 - 12, 2004: How To Start A Cruise in 10 Easy Steps (Not!).
- September 22 & 23, 2004: Amy gets introduced to Disneyland.
- October 4, 2004: How Do You Spell Stress?
- October 6, 2004: San Diego, 32°43' N, 117°11' W.
- October 10, 2004: Up the Bay without a Paddle!
September 6, 2004: Departure Day!
Departure Day. We had some last minute things to take care of - of course. We had decided a couple of days earlier that we would push off the dock on Monday the 6th, but that we would go to an anchorage in San Francisco Bay for the night. We were so tired that we needed to rest before setting out under the Golden Gate Bridge. That decision took a lot of pressure off, knowing that we would have time to rest before taking on the ocean. Mom and I went grocery shopping on Monday morning. I was so tired, walking around like a zombie, that I walked right past one of our neighbors in the aisle. I was so out of it.
We set off the dock at 1:31 PM local time. Shelly and Brian helped push us off and took some pictures. I'll post them at some point. We got gas at Ballena Bay, and spent some time trying to commission the autopilot and speed indicator. Since we hadn't taken the boat out and tried out any new equipment, the trip to LA was to be the trial period. Yes, we know this isn't the best way to do it, but that's just the way it turned out. We expected that it would happen like this, and we expected to find issues on the sail south. Part of the reason for leaving so early in September was so that we could break stuff and have time to fix it before heading into Mexico in late October. Finally...
September 7 - 12, 2004: How To Start A Cruise in
10 Easy Steps (Not!).
We broke out of Ayala Cove (Angel Island) at 9:18 am and sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge at 10:39. The adventure was on! The seas were very pleasant, and we were making 5 - 6 knots most of the trip. We covered 120 miles the first 24 hours, 124 the second and 87 miles on Day Three to bring us around Pt. Conception to the anchorage. I was worried a bit about it as Pt Conception is sometimes called the Cape Horn of the Pacific. Weather and waves can converge to make it a nasty passing, but there was little wind and we motored with no issue. There's a small anchorage right around the Point where we pulled in at 7:30 PM It had been 3 days and 2 nights since we'd left. All in all an uneventful passage. We spent all the next day and night at Cojo Cove, leaving for Long Beach on the morning of the 11th. There was little wind so we motored for most of the 22 hour trip with the exception of flying the asymmetrical spinnaker for an hour or so. Back to the top.
September 22 & 23, 2004: Amy gets introduced to Disneyland
Oh my goodness, what a magical place. Yes, I'm in my thirties and have never been to Disneyland, Disneyworld, Euro-Disney - anything Disney. Shelly and Brian came down to visit and to inaugurate us to the ways of Disney. Disney is such a great place; I felt like a little kid again. Everything was so magical and seamless. My favorite character was Sully from Monsters, Inc. And I could have sworn that I saw more than one Mickey Mouse walking around. Brian took some great pictures for us - I'm still learning that I need to take my camera with me everywhere. I've always been so bad about taking pictures. I'll post some of the better pix when we receive them. And, it was great to see them and spend some quality time with them. It seems like everyone we saw the last 6 weeks we were in SFO had a rushed visit.
We head to San Diego on September 26th with Abe's sister, Kat. It's about 100 mile trip, and will take less than 24 hours. With the way the weather has been lately, it looks to be another motoring trip. Let's just hope Kat doesn't break the engine like she did last time she was with us! We'll be in San Diego for a month, clearing out for Mexico on October 25th. We decided to take advantage of the Baja Ha Ha rally going into Mx at the same time. Some of our old dock mates will be participating, as well as an additional 150 boats. It will give a good chance to meet those cruisers who will be in and around the west coast of Mx in 2005 and 2006. We'll be meeting those few others that will be making the big Puddle Jump across to Marquesas around the same time we will in Feb/Mar 2006.
We've still been relaxing a lot and getting into the habit of not having to be anywhere at any given time. It's been a struggle to just sit quietly. I feel like I should be up doing something. With as crazy as it was before we left, I imagine it will take another couple of weeks to get used to the quieter, slower pace. We toast each other (with coffee) every Monday morning now - Happy Monday! There's always work to be done on the boat (maintenance or installations) so our days can be as full or as empty as we like. It's nice to set the pace. I'll take the time to write what a normal week is like one of these days. I'm not sure we're into "normal" territory yet. Too soon to tell. I promise also to map out our plans for 2005 Mexico tour. It will be a fluid plan, but should give those of you who wish to visit a better idea. Back to the top.
October 4, 2004: How do you spell Stress?
My husband has told me that I can no longer spell. I argue that it's Microsoft's fault. It's not that I can't spell, it's that I've gotten so used to all my programs checking my spelling before sending, that I now forget to run spell check manually. I just get going on the keyboard and figure that I'll clean it up later, but then forget. So I ran spell check and it caught the most egregious errors. There's probably still some mistakes like form instead of from, etc. Just give me the benefit of the doubt in case you still see errors. You can get the gist of what I'm trying to say!
We have been in San Diego now for 1 week. The trip down from Long Beach was made with Abe's sister, Kat. We left Long Beach around 2:30 PM and sailed under a 105% jib (front sail) and main for about 6 hours. It was a very smooth ride, and we got up to 8.5 knots. Some of that was surfing down the face of small swells, but still! 8.5 knots. That's fast! About 9 that night the wind died and when we slowed to 3 knots we fired up the engine and pulled into San Diego Bay at first light. We docked about 7 am.
While Kat was still here, Abe and I had another first - Sea World. And now I must confess something. Since we've left (and maybe even before - I can't remember any longer what that chaos was like!), I have been getting choked up more and more. I seem to tear up at the most insignificant things. How silly is that? I think some of it is relief that we're finally taking a slower pace. Some of it is just taking time to see beauty (I know it sounds hokey) all around. Some of it is stress and some of it is healthy fear. I'll get into that a little later. But here we are, sitting watching some of the shows at Sea World, and I'm close to tears. I found myself with a huge lump in my throat at how amazing and beautiful these animals are. And again when we were on the night passages, I'm tearing up looking at the stars; they were absolutely breathtaking. The Milky Way went from horizon to horizon. I've never seen such a bright sky, lit only by stars. I don't have the literary capability to do it justice. On the way down to San Diego we had a full moon. The way it reflected off the water and again lit the sky was just breathtaking. I found myself close to tears then, too.
My excuse is the stress. Stress of getting ready to leave, stress of all the changes in life once leaving San Francisco. The intensity and range of emotions that I going through in a short period of time are surprising to me. Some of it certainly is relief from the build up of stress while we were getting ready to leave. Some of it is that almost everything we do now is relatively new and not familiar. I always thought that I liked to stir up things a bit with change and newness. I'm finding that's not as true as I thought. I get a bit stressed in new situations and this lifestyle is full of new things. It's going to be a matter of adjusting attitude and expectations so that I don't stress myself out.
And then we get back to the fear. When we set out under the Bridge, I expected to have nerves and jitters - starting out on a great adventure, a completely new way of life, setting out to a big unknown. I would be worried if I didn't have some of those emotions. However, I was quite surprised when this very visceral fear came creeping up. We had made it about 40 or 50 miles offshore by 4 or 5 PM I started to panic a bit at the pending nightfall. Was it less light, not being able to see land any longer? Who knows. But it got so bad that I wanted to get to land. And NOW! I kept quiet (although I'm sure Mom and Dad could read some of the fear in my face. I know Abe certainly could). Sometime close to 8 or 9 that night, I told Abe I wanted to get to land, Monterey being the closest. As soon as I said it, I knew that if we did go in, it would be near impossible for me to go back out - certainly to get out for a night passage. It was luck, fate, kismet, that we were 10 hours from Monterey. 10 hours would get us close to land around sunrise - and wouldn't help me in the present state. I was stuck. What was a scared of? Who knows. I have a really active imagination when it comes to some great catastrophes, and my mind was working overtime. That, in conjunction with having the huge unknown out there about this new life, added to this very real fear. How would we adjust to the new life? How would we like it? What can we do to ensure that we keep our minds busy, even while slowing the pace of life?
I'm not sure if I'm normal (most of the folks that know me would say a resounding, "no!" to that question) in this situation, but I went up and down so many times with highs and lows I wasn't sure which way was up. I had read a lot of books in preparation and managing my expectations for this adventure. None of them that I remember ever addressed this. And I know that because of my imagination I can freak myself out quite well. But, I was more scared than I had ever been in my life, absolutely petrified, and I couldn't put my finger on what exactly it was that was scaring me. We were on a safe boat, we were being very cautious and careful with navigating, there was no weather in our spot of the world to worry us, on and on. There have been many people far less prepared than we, in boats far less seaworthy that ours that have done this successfully. We are very well prepared. In spite of that knowledge, most of the parts to the fear were irrational: fear of some rogue wave or whale hitting us, fear of all sorts of horrid weather coming out of nowhere, etc., etc. I think the full impact of what we were doing finally hit me full in the face, though, and it scared me.
I was ready to pull into the first marina possible - just to get to land. At some point in all this I remember reading on another cruiser's website, "When you want to run away the night of your departure, then you know your doubts and fears [and I would add, "expectations"] have filled your dreams." That seemed to be a good explanation or rationalization. We'd been planning this trip for 4 years. Now it was being realized, and there were all sorts of relief, hope, expectations, fears all rolled up into one big ball, all coming together at the same time.
Not long after sunset I started to relax. The sky was absolutely beautiful. Absolutely nothing compared to what we could see out there. We were about 60 miles offshore, and the Milky Way spanned from horizon to horizon. There were so many stars, and the sky was brilliant from their light. I can see where night time will become my favorite time during passages. I can't do the beauty justice without sounding corny.
The fear popped up again on the next passages, but not nearly like that first night. As I get used to the routine of passage-making this fear will hopefully be even less and less. Although, I think a good dose of respect for the water and elements will serve us well. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? By the end of all this, I should be an Iron Man! Back to the top.
October 6, 2004: San Diego, 32°43' N, 117°11' W
We've been hanging on the hook now for a couple of days. We moved off the Harbor Police Docks and moved to and anchorage in the far east of the San Diego Bay. As we were pulling into the anchorage, we thought we saw a marker in the water. It turned out to be the top of a mast - of a sunken sailboat. Abe and I were thinking that we would just have to find a different place to stay as soon as possible. Not long after our anchor had dropped, the Harbor Police came by (they also are responsible for this anchorage) and the officer asked us if we wanted to move to the A-9 (cruiser's) anchorage. Abe almost put a hole in our deck screaming, "YES!" The A-9 anchorage is much closer to everything that we need, and is a better place. The anchorage we were currently in felt like the slums. It did not feel safe at all.
So we immediately moved to our current position. We're anchored out just off the Coast Guard base with a great view of CVC 76, AKA USS Ronald Reagan. This is an amazing aircraft carrier. It's huge! I would love to be able to tour that ship. While in SFO, we visited the USS Hornet. This was an aircraft carrier commissioned during the W.W.II and decommissioned sometime in the 70s. The Hornet was the ship that picked up Neil Armstrong after his walk on the moon. Very cool. But the Hornet is an ant compared to the size of the RR. San Diego is a Navy town; it's awesome to see all these ships, hear the roar from the planes. There's certainly a feeling of safety here with such a military presence.
Since we're anchored out, our mode of transportation is our dinghy. This 10' rubber raft is our way from the boat to land to take care of whatever we need. We call her "Ellie." She has a little 8 hp gasoline engine on the back so we don't have to row everywhere. I row in a circle so we'd never get anywhere relying on that! So we filled 'er up the other day. Where it used to take $50 to fill up the truck, it now takes $10. And, no, we wouldn't like a car wash with that fill up. It's quite odd to walk 1/2 a mile carrying a 6 gallon jug of gas. Back to the top.
October 10, 2004: Up the Bay without a Paddle
Have you ever heard the expression, "up the creek without a paddle?" That's just where Abe and I found ourselves today. Not truly in a creek, but more like the Bay. But still without paddles. Let me explain first of all that we hadn't used our dinghy much at all in San Francisco. There was just little need for it. We knew that we needed to run the engine more than once a year, but it just fell by the way side. It's a little 8 hp motor and has always worked very well. At least, that is, until we started to use it copiously in San Diego after a long layoff. We've been anchored out in San Diego Bay with our only means of transportation our 10 foot dinghy powered by this 8 hp motor or oars, if needed. If those oars are ever needed, however, it is very helpful to actually have them ON the dinghy.
Abe and I took a trip to Tijuana to get some radio licensing taken care of so that we can use our ham radio while in Mexico. We made the trip south and back by 4 PM All in all, not bad. We thought there might be a baseball game on, so we wanted to get back to the boat and changed before heading out again to the neighboring hotel to watch some sports. At the dinghy dock (parking for dinghies) we get in, start the engine and push off the dock. Mind you, everything is fine. The outboard motor has been running a little bit rough, but we thought the more we ran it, the more we would burn up any carbon deposits that might have formed over time. It had been functional at a minimum.
We confidently left the dock headed for our boat. About 500 yards off the dock (and only a fraction of the way home) the engine quits. Try after try, Abe cannot get it started again. No problem. We'll just paddle. That's what oars are for, right? But where are they? Atop the hard dodger, back on the boat, just where we left them. Oops. We look around the dinghy trying to be resourceful. But this is not a big dinghy. There's not a lot of room for McGuyver-like magic. And we weren't carrying a Swiss Army knife - I bet McGuyver could have made it work if he'd been there. But voila - Amy sees the two little dinghy fenders sitting all pretty in the bottom of the boat. These are 3 inches in diameter, and maybe 9 inches long. And round. And hard to grip with your hands in a manner consistent with paddling. But it's all we have. Amy on one side, Abe on the other. And since one of us is stronger than the other (I won't say who is the weakest link) we tended to weave our way back to the boat rather than paddling a straight line. We switched sides every so often for a break. At one point, Abe took pity on me (or he was tired of going in circles, I'm not sure which) and took both fenders, laid his chest on the bow of the dinghy and started doing the breast stroke a la fenders. I'm sure we were a sight to see. What makes it more interesting, however, is that we had to pass right in front of the Coast Guard dock on our way back to the boat. I thought for sure they'd come investigate, but I think they may have been laughing too hard to be able to get off the dock. We made it, though. The engine went to the doctor the next morning. Back to the top.
