Catalina voyage July 21 2011

With the new bulk propane burner system installed in No Bad Days to replace the little butane burner, and a good supply of provisions laid in, I decided to head out to Catalina for a voyage of unknown duration. Since the wind generally blows dead on the nose from Catalina to Dana, the traditional way to get there from Dana is to motor the 35 miles right into the teeth of the wind and waves. I have never enjoyed that much motoring, and with gas over $4.00 a gallon here, my strategy has been to make a day passage to Newport, overnight there, then another day to Long Beach, where from there the wind is at a more favorable angle for a nice day sail across to the island. (I have friends that motor the 25 miles to Long beach so they can then “sail” to Catalina….). I have been needing to get experience in overnight passages so I decided this time to make it in one continuous passage without any of the interim pit stops. After a few long tacks putting up along the coast, it was early evening and I was just outside the Newport harbor where I would normally duck in for the night. This time, I tacked out towards the island, expecting to sail across during the night, arriving early the next morning. That is if the wind stayed strong all night. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. This time it didn’t. Shortly after sunset the wind died and I found myself bobbing about. No wind to allow me to move or to stabilize the boat. Rocking back and forth, sometimes as much as 45 degrees, even in what would be considered calm seas, is about as uncomfortable an experience I have had in a boat. It was impossible to relax, impossible to read, hard to sleep, impossible to cook on the cool new burner I had installed. I sat in the cockpit all night with all my navigation lights on and waited for wind. With no other traffic out and about, I allowed myself to doze off a bit, setting an alarm to wake up at least every hour to look around. When the sun came up I found that the 1 knot continental current had pushed me almost all the way back to Dana. I was several miles off shore, actually about half way across to Catalina, but many miles southeast from where I was when the sun went down. I bobbed a few more hours, sleeping down below, waiting for wind. A science research vessel pulled up along side me and asked if I was OK. I replied “sure, just waiting for wind“. When the wind picked up about midday it was a nice ride on across. I passed by the town of Avalon, not wanting to visit there this time. I had chosen Isthmus Harbor up on the northwest end as my original destination and as I tacked back and forth towards it, it wasn’t looking like I would make it there before dark and so I laid in an alternate course for the bay at Whites Cove. The closer I got, the more I was determined to make it to Isthmus in one continuous passage, even if it took another night. It was going to be touch and go whether I would make it there that evening before dark. I have been in that harbor before and knew the lay of the land, but the harbor has several big rock islands guarding the mouth, and with no moon rising until well after midnight, it would be a very dark and unsafe endeavor. I knew if I didn’t make it I could just heave to in the lee of the island and wait until morning to make my approach more safely. However, the wind was really honking, No Bad Days was knifing through the waves like a champ, and we made it into Isthmus harbor just as the sun was going down. By the time I had the anchor set it was pitch black.

The Isthmus harbor is a very nice quiet laid back place, with moorings set out for visiting boats, places to anchor out, and a ferry dock. The “town” of Twin Harbors consists of a restaurant/café/bar with free WiFi internet, a general store, a boat repair outfit, a scuba dive/kayak/bicycle rental shop, and a shower/bathroom facility. Pretty basic but perfect. No cruise ships come by here like they do in Avalon. There are no accommodations here except for people’s boats, and few camping areas nearby, so there is a really cool set of people hanging out here. There is great hiking all around, beach combing, scuba diving in the kelp (which I still have not tried yet. I need to find a buddy to dive with). A wonderful place.

I have spent several days out here at anchor. I confess I have lost track how long. It is so nice and there is no huge compelling reason to hurry back to Dana so I am just sort of hanging out. I have completed a few projects here on the boat, getting the new depth sounder installed, and installing solar panels on the dinghy to keep up the batteries for the electric motor. (I also just had to dissemble and overhaul said electric motor when it gave up the ghost. It seemed to all go well except the motor now runs backwards!. No problem, I just run it full speed in reverse and it seems to go just as well, but I am a bit perplexed on how I could have done that. I didn’t fiddle with and reverse any of the wiring to my knowledge. I just took the coil out, cleaned it up and re-installed it. Backwards? Hmmm.

The portabote and solar panels are a big hit with the other cruisers over here. Everyone I pass comments how cool and asks about it. If I wanted to be in the business, I bet I could sell a dozen of them already.

I have met several very cool people anchored nearby. Jim, an interesting old fellow on the big twin mast Chubasco, paid me a very nice compliment. He said “I like the way you anchor. You stay put! Most people come out here, drop the hook and then just drag around. You really pay attention to what you are doing and it is right.” I am afraid I don’t always feel so confident, but perhaps all those nights practicing anchoring over in Dana are starting to pay off.

The water here is very deep, over 130 feet where I have been anchoring, and pulling up all that rope, chain, and anchor in order to ever move is really tough. It takes almost half an hour and I am exhausted afterwards, hands and arms numb from the exertion. I have decided to look into installing a manual windlass to allow me to crank it in using leverage rather than with just pure muscle. Oh goody, another project!

I also met a group of the SoCal Trailer Sailor association. About a dozen of them came out here together in a flotilla of small boats, some no bigger than my Sirocco! There was a couple cruising in Montgomery 15, and most were in West Wight Potter 19s. (no that is not a typo, it is spelled Wight, as in the Isle of…off the coast of Britain) They are really cool folks, not trying to impress anyone with how big or shiny their boats are. Just living the dream of “Go small and go now!”

I met a guy named Bob who I have seen around at Dana but never really got to know him. He is a retired engineer and sails a Pacific SeaCraft, one of the most studly ocean going boats ever made. They are a timeless design, with the new ones looking exactly like the ones over 30 years old. They are so well made they never seem to age

. (and they are so expensive I suspect the owners take better care of them than the average “Ford or Chevy” owner.) His is a brand new one.

Friday July 28- Many days later: This morning I had to pull up anchor and head offshore a few miles to pump out Rosie the toilet. Since I was going to be out and about anyway, I headed down the coast a few miles to Whites Cove, where I am anchored now for few days. There is a scout camp on shore here, and a private yacht club pavilion, but no public facilities. It is the weekend and it got pretty crowded here in the anchorage. Some folks are good about leaving enough room between each other but some try to cram in a bit too close and have to move. A few have dragged anchor when the wind piped up a bit, only 15 knots, but it sure raised havoc with a few boats. I watched one big one drag loose while the owner was off in his dinghy, and it took off surprisingly fast drifting down through the harbor, luckily missing the other boats nearby. I jumped on the radio and announced to the harbor that “a boat was adrift and all stations beware“. The harbor patrol came roaring in about the same time the owner showed back up and got the runaway under control. After that he tied up to a mooring rather than trust his anchoring again.

Today I set up my scuba gear and took a dive to look at my anchor, just for fun. The water was 50 feet deep, crystal clear and very nice but 50 feet down looking up I could not see the hull of No Bad Days. I was surprised to see that the bottom was smooth clean sand, not all kelp and rocks here like I had been told. My anchor was well set. Perfect placement. Ah, sweet success. Not being a reef area, there were not too many fish about, but I did see 2 sea bass-looking fish that were at least 4 feet long , round, and very big. I bet they were 200 pounds. WOW. I saw people pole fishing right around there. I wonder what they would do if they caught one of these monsters! I looked around a bit for sunken lost booty but saw nothing but a big abandoned (or lost) mooring block sunken into the bottom. . It was concrete, about 5 feet square, with huge chain links set in. the bottom was very clean. I was a bit surprised, pleasantly, that I didn’t see more any garbage or anything that had fallen off all the boats that moor there. I thought I would at least find a spoon or something. I know I have tossed out my fair share of spoons with the dishwater!

I worked a building a piece of gear to make pulling up the anchor a bit easier. It is a one way “valve” that allows the chain to be pulled in, but not let it slide back down when I release my grip to rest. I have some chunks of sheet stainless steel on board and I spent a day cutting, drilling and filing to make such a device. I ran into a problem with the drilling. This is really tough tough stuff and all my drill bits are old and dull. The project had to be delayed until I get back to town and buy a few new tougher drill bits.

I went for a really nice hard hike up the hill above the harbor. This is steep, harsh, dry country, very much like the west deserts ranges of Utah that I love so much. Very few trees, mostly low scrubby brush. I hiked all the way up to the ridge overlooking ths other side of the island. It was very hot up away from the water, probably a better hike for early in the day or in the spring, but I enjoyed the good sweat. I was very surprised when as I crested the ridge to find a small pond nestled there in a tiny depression of the ridge. WOW. I would never had guessed to find such a jewel, especially so near the top of the ridge. There was a buffalo laying near the shore, and a fox casually sauntered away into the brush. She gave no indication of having been alarmed by my coming on the scene. A mule deer bounded off, and a red tail hawk soared overhead. It truly was an oasis of shang-ri-la proportions. The water was shallow, brown, and murky, but here on this desert island it was life itself.

The next day (today, Aug 2)I decided to head back to Dana to make progress on making my chain holding thingamabob. As soon as I cleared the protection of the island I caught a wind roaring out of the northwest. It was really honking about 15 knots and I had a thrilling ride all the way across. I was going 6-7 knots most of the time and had a very quick ride, arriving at the mainland about 1:00. I aimed for Newport and am anchored there now for the night. I will go on to Dana tomorrow. All is well.