s/v Astraea

Astraea Arrives in the Chesapeake

2010-07-02T14:07:00.000-07:00

In June, 2010, Astraea was trucked across country to her new home in the Chesapeake Bay in Gaylesville, Maryland where she is now berthed on the West River at Hartge Yacht Harbor. She was first taken to a boat yard in San Diego where her masts were unstepped, all her rigging removed, all stanchions, lifelines, and other topside parts removed and she was prepared for her long trip across country by truck. She was then picked up by the professional boat movers of J. Daniel Marine Trucking. Here are some pictures of her trip across country by land.

Astraea securely sitting on her transport trailer.

Astraea Leaving San Diego at 3 o'clock in the morning, June 1, 2010.

Astraea in the Midwest. Not much water around here!!!!

A great picture of Astraea somewhere in the Midwest.

Astraea crossing the Mighty Mississippi River.

Astraea arrives in Maryland

Very few boats on the Washington Capitol Beltway.

The really tight final road, Church Lane, in Gaylesville, MD

Astraea is offloaded at Hardge Boat Yard in Gaylesville, Md.

June 11, 2010. Astraea sits at Hartge Boat Yard and waits to be recommissioned.

Change of Plans

2010-04-04T19:03:00.000-07:00

In March of 2010 things suddently changed for Astraea and me. I had planned to remain retired, but a great job offer suddenly came and my plans were changed. As of March 22, 2010, I began a great new job in Northern Virginia just outside Washington, DC. On April 2, I contracted with J.Daniel Marine Co to transport Astraea across 3,000 miles of the United States, by land, to her new home in Annapolis, Maryland.

This is a major change and one that was not expected, however I am looking forward to having Astraea in Annapolis where I first began to sail at the Naval Academy many years ago as a midshipman. Astraea and I will now enjoy the waters of the Chesapeake.

Watch this blog for photos of Astraea as she is hauled, prepared to transport, trucked across the country, and recommissioned in Annapolis, Maryland.

New Engine Ready for Installation

2010-03-13T10:18:00.000-08:00

Finally, at last. It seems this engine replacement has taken forever. Astraea and I and our crew of two were scheduled to leave at the end of October last year for Mexico with the Baja Haha. Just before departing I discovered a slight noise in the engine that concerned me, and further analysis by several mechanics confirmed my decision to pull and open and inspect the engine. It was discovered that the engine, a year old with 160 hours on it, had an incorrrectly designed salt water cooling system that had allowed water to enter the engine. It was ruined (see earlier posts for the gruesome details).

The last five months has been a frustrating experience with mechanics, insurance company, boatyard, Westerbeke, ad nauseum. Finally the new engine has arrived in San Diego at Cogswell Marine and has had the necessary modificatons made and is ready to install. The installation is scheduled for Monday and Tuesday March 15-16. The engine installation itself is not that complicated, as an identical engine is being installed. The more complex part is redesigning and reworking the wet exhaust system to ensure that sea water will not enter the engine again. I have full confidence in Pete Cogswell of Cogswell Marine that he has a proper design. In fact, the design that he is doing is virtually identical to the original design of the old Isuzu engine that the boatyard tore out and replaced. We are also installing a much larger custom made wet exhaust muffler.

Now, however, a new twist has been added. Out of nowhere I have received a job offer for a very senior executive position. I had really decided a year ago that my professional career was over and my future was sailing and retirement. Now what could be a great professional opportunity has arisen. I will spend most of next week oboard Astraea for the engine installation and decide whether to turn down the job and go cruising now, or to take the job and go cruising later. My feelings on this shift from day to day. This is going to take some real introspection, some soul searching.

But for now, engine installation time. Finally! Next week! As far as the job opportunity, well, as Scarlett O'Hara famously said, "I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow."

New Engine sitting at Cogswell Marine, San Diego, ready for install March 15

Replacement engine to be ordered

2010-01-08T10:58:00.000-08:00

Extensive review of the engine installation on Astraea determined that the wet exhaust system was improperly designed. In the installation of the new engine on Astraea the design of the wet exhaust system had been done such that each time the engine was shut off the volume of water spilling down from the high point in the exhaust system was significantly greater than the vertical water lift muffler could handle. This resulted in salt water from the wet exhaust backing up into the muffler system and then into the cylinders. This process had apparently been going on since the engine was installed and the damage was cumulative, culminating in a point where the damage was so extensive that I could hear the knocking from the badly damaged cylinders. It is actually quite amazing that the engine ran at all with such extensive damage. It is apparent that it would NOT have run much longer as the corrossion was moving further into the engine with time. Also, the height of the exhaust system loop had caused excessive back pressure, resulting in incomplete combustion and heavy carbonization and "gunking" of the engine with gooey black carbon in the culinders and valves.

It is really inconceivable that Svendsen's Boat Works could have made such a major mistake in the design of the wet exhaust system. I had trusted them with my boat, my life, and the life of my crew, and paid a premium price of about $36,000 for the repowering. And they screwed it up. Inconceivable. Goes to show that paying premium price does not always assure premium quality. I doubt I will ever trust a boat yard again.

Hopefully we will soon be installing the new engine. Perhaps some of the Winter cruising season in Mexico can be salvaged and the dream of cruising will become real, at last. Better late than never.

Engine out and disassembled

2009-12-23T12:07:00.000-08:00

After almost two months since hearing a problem in my new Westerbeke engine the engine has been removed and disassembled in the diesel shop. It turns out it was NOT what I expected. It was not a bent rod or a bad rod bearing as four mechanics had thought. The noise was a result of the 4th cylinder only occasionally firing due to serious corrosion. The 3rd cylinder was not much better. Also, the entire interior of the engine was full of carbon and gunk due to incomplete combustion caused by excessive backpressue. The damage is the result of the cumulative process of water intrusion through the wet exhaust sytem since the engine was installed.

The engine is basically destroyed and beyond economical repair.

The engine was laid out at the diesel shop in Chula Vista like something from "CSI Diesel". All the parts laid out for inspection, analysis, and photographing. What an ugly mess. The poor combustion and the heavy salt water backflow had left it black and gooey and rusted all through the interior.

It could be worse. I am just thankful that I detected the strange sounds from the engine the week before I was scheduled to sail with my crew to Mexico in the Baja Haha. I am thankful that I made the decision not to leave port until the problem was resolved. Had I not taken these actions then I would probably be sitting in Mexico with an engine that is totally destroyed, an improperly designed exhaust system, and far from people who could help me resolve this problem.

Here are some pictures of the engine removal. It was must easier than I expected. Three men had the engine out and on the dock in about 2 hours. I was really surprised. However they were very experienced professionals and knew what they were doing. That always helps.

Here is the engine being disconnected from fuel, water, cooling, shaft, etc. and prepared for lifting.

Lifting the engine out of the engine compartment, which is below the cockpit sole.

The engine resting on the cockpit sole and ready to be manhandled aft to beneath the companionway.

The engine comes up through the companionway. The end of the boom is being used as a lifting point for the hoist.

The engine, without the transmission, is swung out over the pier using the main boom as a crane.

The engine is apart and layed out in the diesel shop like something from "CSI Diesel Engine". It is apparent that there was serious water intrusion form the wet exhaust system and also incomplete combustion due to excessive backpressure. The engine is ready for the boatyard to inspect. Now I wait and see if the boatyard will accept responsibility for their work. I trust they will.

$40,000 Toast

2009-11-14T09:11:00.000-08:00

The mechanic from A to B Marine came on Friday. This was the third master mechanic and their fourth trip to the boat over four weeks of waiting. This time they did a pressure test of the cooling system, which held at 14psi and passed. They then did a compression test and this showed a compression problem with cylinder four. The theory is that the rod bearing, rod connector, or something else in cylinder four has failed, resulting in metal particles scoring the cylinder lining. According to Richard Rock, one of the owners of A to B Marine, this engine is toast. So now I have this big new red Westerbeke engine, which only has 180 hours on it, which cost about $14K+, and which cost another $22K-$26K to have professionally installed, and it is worthless. Also, plans for Mexico and the South Pacific this year are looking grim unless somebody steps up to the plate and takes care of this under warranty QUICKLY. The Westerbeke Warranty is a full parts, labor and material for the first two years, and full warranty for five years. This engine has one year and only 180 hours, which is nothing for a marine diesel.

The Westerbeke reps tagged out the engine and disabled it so it could not be started and we wait, just like we have done for four weeks now. Wait for Westerbeke reps to make decisions on what they are going to do. Currently Astraea sits needing a heart transplant. A big red Westerbeke heart. Let's hope that Westerbeke stands behind their products and that this does not become some huge battle between a consumer and a big corporation.

The New Westerbeke 44B4 arrives at Svendsens's. An exciting day!!!

The engine. What a beauty!

My old loyal Isuzu. She did not look like much but she performed well for 27 years. The only problem with her is getting parts, service, maintenance, etc. The new Westerbeke (theoretically) should provide years of worry free service.

The engine compartment steam cleaned, new engine base built, ready to take the new Westerbeke.

This is like a heart transplant for a boat. A major evolution. Took two master mechanics two weeks to do the work, plus lots of cleaners, painters, electricians, ship fitters, and riggers.

The new Westerbeke being lowered into place and connected.

The new Westerbeke installation complete with new high capacity alternator and dual Racor 2 micron filters. Little did I know that this $36,000 to $40,000 worth of new engine would be totally "toast" within 180 operating hours. I am beginning to wish I had kept the old Isuzu and had it rebuilt. I would now be in Mexico and preparing to sail to the South Pacific if I had not done this engine replacement. I would also have had a lot more money in the bank and a lot less stress in my life.

Waiting for Westerbeke

2009-11-07T16:21:00.000-08:00

This weekend is three weeks since I first heard the strange noise coming from my new Westerbeke diesel engine. This Monday will mark three weeks since I started calling the local San Diego distributor of Westerbeke, A to Z Marine, and asked for help. Technically we are no further along now than we were three weeks ago. After a year of planning and weeks of preparation Astraea sits all fueled and ready to sail to Mexico yet we just sit in the marina and wait..... and wait...... and wait. Everyone tells me that I am fortunate that this happened in San Diego and not in Mexico, however I am beginning to feel like San Diego is a third world country as far as getting anything done on my engine.

The West Coast Westerbeke representative told the San Diego people at A to Z that they were certain that I had a classic and apparently common case of what he called "injector knock". He said that apparently I had gotten some contaminated fuel and the contamination had gotten to the injector and fouled or damaged the injector and this was causing the knocking sound. I found this difficult to accept in that I had only purchased fuel twice since the engine was new, one time in San Francisco and the other time in Half Moon Bay. Both fueling depots were in excellent marinas and operated under brand names. Also, the new engine has a top of the line dual Racor filter system with 2 micron filters, plus there is a 5 micron filter on the engine. It did not seem possible that any contamination could have gotten through the gauntlet of those filters. However as this guy is the West Coast honcho we had to wait until he had someone come out to do another test. This test was to swap the injectors from cylindar one and four. If after swapping the injectors the knocking sound moved from cylinder four to cylinder one then it would be apparent that the problem was the injector. This would simply require the injector to go to the injector shop for inspection and repair or replacement. Simple.

However Thursday the A to Z Marine people told me that a third master mechanic specializing the Westerbeke engines was coming to the boat on Friday morning to swap the injectors for this test. I drove to San Diego the night before in order to be there when they arrived. As promised the mechanic, Roger, showed up on Friday morning and swapped the injectors. He then bled the engine fuel system of air and then we started the engine. Unfortunately swapping the injectors resulted in no change in the engine nose. The knocking was still coming from cylinder four.

In three weeks we have had three master mechanics sent by the Westerbeke reps come to the boat and do tests. All three have now come to the same conclusion, that cylinder four has a bad rod bearing, bad rod connector, or other serious problem in the cylinder that, if not corrected, will result in throwing a rod through the side of the engine.

A to Z Marine promised to get back to me late last Friday (which they did not) or this coming Monday with further guidance from the West Coast Westerbeke rep. I am beginning to worry about how long this is all going to take to just get authorization to fix this problem. I have requested a new engine. If this engine failed at 180 hours with a bad bearing then what is to say the other bearings will not also soon fail? Also, trying to repair this engine would be a major job, much more complicated than just a swap out for a new engine. The engine would have to be disconnected, lifted off it's engine mounts and up into the main salon, and then disassembled, inspected, repair parts obtained, engine reassembled, lowered back into place, reconnected, and tested. I would have very little faith in the engine after having it all disassembled and reassembled, therefore I want a NEW ENGINE!

I am anxious to get this whole project quickly started as every day of delay is another day in the Mexico cruising season lost forever. Also, I have missed the Baja Haha, which I had been anxious to be in for the past year; I lost my crew, and they lost their airline tickets back from Mexico. I have also lost my non refundable marina depost of $600 for LaPaz, and my ticket back to Palm Springs from Cabo for the holidays. Lots of plans and lots of dollars have been lost due to this engine failure. Counting additional marina fees in San Diego, lost deposits, lost airline tickets, wasted Mexican insurance fees, etc., so far this little debacle has cost me about $4000 in direct costs, not to mention the loss of cruising time...... which is priceless.

What is really frustrating is that I spent $40,000 for this new engine just so I would not have to worry about problems like this. I bought Westerbeke due to their excellent reputation and my experience with them in the Navy. To have this happen is disheartening and disappointing, to say the least. To see what this entailed click here for pictures and description of installing this new Westerbeke engine.

I am attempting to be patient and polite, however thre weeks have passed and I have gotten nowhere other than three different mechanics coming to the same conclusion. If something definitive does not happen soon then I am going to have to decide what step to take next. I am still hopeful, however, that Westerbeke, who has been in the marine diesel business since 1937 and is an American company, will step up to the plate and do what is right: move quickly to fix a serious problem with an very expensive engine that is still under full warranty.

Weserbeke, please do the right thing!!!!

Engine problems delaying departure for Mexico

2009-10-24T15:31:00.000-07:00

Well, it looks like for Astraea and her crew the Baja Haha has become the Baja Boo Hoo. We are not going to be able to leave on Monday October 26th as scheduled.

I had not posted a blog update for the past week as I have been working day and night getting Astraea ready to leave for Mexico along with the other 190+ sailboats taking part in the 16th annual Baja Haha regatta from San Diego to Cabo San Lucas. The "to do" list was almost complete, the "buy" list was complete, and we were ready to head South to Mexico. Then, last Sunday, it happened. I started the engine to do routine engine checks and to warm up the transmission in order to change the transmission fluid. I heard this rather distinct metallic noise coming from the engine. It was a noise that I knew was not there before. It sounded like something was loose on the engine and rattling or banging against the engine. I checked every part of the engine and could find nothing loose, no oil leaks, nothing apparently wrong with the engine.

Now this was NOT expected as the boat has a brand new Westerbeke engine that was installed last year by the boatyard in Alameda and the engine has less than 180 hours on it. That is not even broken in for a new diesel. I called the Westerbeke dealer in San Diego first thing Monday morning and was told, of course, that they were "very busy" and would "try" to get someone out to listen to it. I told them that it could be nothing, but that I was not willing to go to sea on this nearly 800 mile trip without an experienced mechanic inspecting the engine.

Finally, four days later, on Thursday afternoon, the mechanic arrived. He turned out to be a very experienced master mechanic with 30+ years of experience. This guy knows diesels. He listened and started doing what I had done, looking for something loose on the engine. He then proceeded to open each of the air injectors and when the air injector for cylinder #4 was opened the metallic clanging noise stopped. This was not a good sign. In fact it was a very bad sign. The mechanic looked a bit concerned and said he would return on Friday afternoon with some special instruments. I could see our underway date for Monday starting to fade.

On Friday the mechanic showed up with a second mechanic and some sound isolation devices. He also conferred with one of the mechanics at the boat yard in Alameda, Svendsen's, who installed the new engine. The analysis was not good. It appeared that there was a bad rod bearing, rod, or rod connector in cylinder #4. Continuing to run the engine would soon result in throwing a rod through the engine block and destroying the engine. The mechanics took an oil sample and departed, and I called my crew to give them the sad news that we were not going to make it.

The guilty party. New Westerbeke looks beautiful but apparently has a mechanical flaw

Everything now is in limbo. We are waiting for the oil analysis results on Wednesday, and then the dealer will talk to Westerbeke about doing the warranty work to repair the engine. Fortunately the engine is so new that it is still under full warranty for parts and, most importantly, labor. I have my fingers crossed that Westerbeke will come through on this without a lot of hassle and red tape as the repair is likely to be extensive. The mechanic said that the engine will have to be disconnected, lifted out of the engine compartment, disassembled, repaired, reassembled, lowered back into place, and then reconnected. I have no idea, none, nada, when the work will start nor how long it will take.

After a year of waiting, and weeks of preparation, and all of the excitement and anticipation leaving next Monday I was surprised to find that I was not really angry nor frustrated or really upset, much. I was primarily relieved that this happened in port in San Diego and the engine did not throw a rod 50 miles out off the coast or in some small village in Mexico. That would have been a much more difficult situation.

Meanwhile I am back home in Palm Springs doing what I do not do well.... waiting. Once the repairs are authorized and scheduled then I will start to look for probably one crew to go with me to Cabo and LaPaz, Mexico. Or, perhaps, I may decide to single hand her down there. We shall see what unfolds once I know what is happening.

Update via satellite

2009-10-08T08:02:00.000-07:00

This is a test of updating my new blog page via my satellite phone. If this shows up on my blog page properly it will mean that I can blog from anywhere in the world via my Iridium phone, a modem, and my tiny little Acer laptop that is set up to work with the Iridium satellite phone.
This gives me some pause as I sit here and contemplate all of this technology and the pace that technlogy is moving. When I hit the "send" button on my laptop this e-mail will transfer from my laptop via a modem to my Iridium 9505A satellite cell phone, a portable phone that looks like a large cell phone with a one foot antenna sticking out the top of it. When I click send on my e-mail interface the cell phone will lock it's signal onto one of the 66 Iridium satellites orbiting the earth, broadcast my blog entry into space to the satellite where the satellite will then send then beam the message back to earh to the Iridium land network. This e-mail will then pass through countless switches and routers as it connects to the Internet, and then post on my blog. This will all happen in a few seconds, probably a few milliseconds.
Amazing this day and age we live in. When I graduated from the Naval Academy and went to sea for the first time in 1972, the words "laptop, e-mail, blog, Internet", were not even in the vocabulary. I can also remember as a child when the Russians launched the first satellite into space, Sputnik, in October 1957. I stood outside with my grandmother and like millions of other people looked up in the sky at night to try to see this thing flying overhead in space.
Now, 52 years later, which is a long time relative to our lifespans, but a mere blink of the eye in the history of mankind, I am using all this technology and these gadgets to do easily what would have then been the subject of science fiction. A hundred years ago it would have all been called magic. Yet we take it all in stride. Could even DaVinci have dreamed of this type of consumer technology?
It is easy to become jaded in our age of technological miracles. If however we stop and think about it, wow, it is really in fact quite miraculous.
Now, if I can just figure out how to post on Facebook via satellite! So totally kewl.

Three weeks and counting!!!!

2009-10-03T10:33:00.000-07:00

It is hard to believe that it is only three weeks to go until time to cast off the lines and sail Astraea 760 miles to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Last week I flew to Little Rock to see my mother and sister and attend my 42nd (yikes) high school reunion. Then this past Tuesday it was back to the boat to get some work done. Time is getting short and I am starting to freak out! How will I ever be ready!!!!

However right now it is Fall in San Diego and the weather is changing and it is absolutely beautiful. The mornings are foggy, the days bright and sunny but cooler. The nights are getting downright chilly, soqn in rhw loq 70's. Brrrrr.

There are so many things that I want to get done before leaving, but time is getting short therefore I am starting to prioritize those jobs which really need to be done before leaving from those that I can do once in Mexico.

The reefer and freezer are working How much time is left???

perfectly. I have been purchasing all the last minute "must have" items like dinghy wheels (who ever heard of wheels on a boat, but yes, they are necessary in Mexico), spare parts for the engine, and all those other necessities that may be needed once extended sailing begins.

This week I was able to connect the new salt water pump at the galley sink to the thru hull, fix the leak on the sink in the head, install three 12V fans, and complete a few other small but important jobs. It seems like every project on a boat takes much more time and money than is planned.

I brought all the upholstered cushions from the main salon of the boat to Palm Springs to clean them. They have several years of sun tan lotion, sweat, salt water, wine, and other things on them and are a bit musty. Today I set them out by he pool in the Palm Springs sun and cleaned them with an upholsterey cleaner device from Rug Doctor. I cleaned them three times as the first pass produced disgustingly dirty water, the second pass light brown water, and it was not until the third cleaning that the water from cleaning the cushions showed that the cushions were actually clean. It is amazing how dirty these chusions had gotten.

Some people poke fun at my "flower tapestry" upholstery. I like it a lot. It reminds me of the amazing flowers that I saw in French Polynesia back in the Spring of 2008 during my month sailing there with Modern Sailing Academy. Most modern boats have blue ultra suede or faux leather that looks great in the showroom but would not necessarily hold up well under the conditions normally found on a cruising boat.

When Dave and Ingrid lived aboard Astraea Ingrid made the upholstery. Ingrid is a master seamstress and she did an incredible job making these cushions. She even perfectly matched the complex pattern at every seam. The fabric itself is thick and bulletproof. When I had new cushions made for the quarterberth and the v-berth those four relatively simple cushions and the upholstery for them cost $3200. I cannot imagine how much it would cost to try to reproduce Ingrid's work. She said that that making these was so labor intensive that she almost got carpel tunnel syndrome. Now after a thorough cleaning and sitting in the Palm Springs sun they are clean and bright and ready to go back aboard.

Cabin cushions from Astraea drying
in the sun at the house in
Palm Springs arter three
cleanings with a Rug
Doctor upholstery cleaner.

I am home in Palm Springs for this week and will be back in San Diego in a week to do the final preparations, provisioning, fueling, cleaning, and stowing of gear in preparation for getting underway. Will I be ready to leave on October 26th? Probably not. Will I leave anyway, definitely yes.

Thoughts on cutting the mooring lines

2009-09-18T10:45:00.000-07:00

I am having thoughts about how it is getting close to time to cut the mooring lines. Everyone tells me that getting underway that first time, casting off the ines for cruising, is the hardest part. I had a small taste of that when I left San Francisco in June bound, solo, for San Diego. However I knew that it was going to be more than four months before it was actually time to leave for Mexico and the first step of extended cruising.

That four plus months is now down to five weeks. Where did the summer go? Well, much of it went to Guatemala and working on the house here in Palm Springs. Not much went to Astraea. However she has sat patiently waiting for her turn, and that time is coming very quickly.

I was on her for a couple of days this week to do a couple of projects from the punch list of things to do before leaving. She is such a great boat. Her bilges were bone dry, no smells or mold or mildew anywhere, everything working. She is a good old girl and I am lucky she found me and I found her. For someone who has never owned a boat is difficult to describe the special relationship that boat owners can develop with their boats. It is almost as if the boat is a living breathing thing. Like many sailors I have always felt that boats have a soul. There is something very special about them. I have also always felt that there are few things than man builds that are as beautiful as a sailboat. She and I are both itching to get underway and seek out our next adventure. There is much to do before we leave, however, so now at the end of the day I sit aboard her in San Diego at the pier and think about being aboard in a warm anchorage somewhere watching the sunset and swimming and just enjoying life aboard. But there is a lot of work to do first.

On Wednesday of this week I drove to San Diego and visited all of the major boat supply stores. West Marine in San Diego is awesome, much nicer than the ones in San Francisco. I also visited Downwind Marine and the San Diego Marine Exchange, which I had been introduced to briefly by my friend Jacob of Pisces.

Thursday found me working HARD on Astraea doing a couple of high priority projects.

Refrigeration or no refrigeration is always a big issue of debate for cruisers, right up there with water makers. Astraea came with a major big time reefer and freezer installation. It is almost 20 years old, but is top notch quality from Technautics and would cost at least $15,000 today. If I did not have such a high end system already on the boat I would just go without refrigeration, as many cruisers do - including Beth Leonard . However since it is there I might as well use it and enjoy it.

The system consists of a good sized 110V compressor for when on shore power, and an engine mounted compressor for underway. There are two holding plates in the freezer, one being a giant four inch thick model, the other two inches thick. Together they really can keep the freezer cold. On the trip down from San Franciso the system stopped working and after some simple trouble shooting I discovered that the old Technautics analog thermostat inside the freezer box had failed. This became obvious when I removed it and connected the two wires that went into it and the system suddenly worked again. However I have found that the engine mounted system is not putting out much cooling, so I have requested a service visit from a local San Diego company. This system was removed when the engine was replaced, and it probably lost some of it's charge. I have all the tech manuals but these marine Technautics systems are so complicated that I think it best to hire a professional. Several places in the tech manuals on the instructions on how to recharge the system are big WARNING paragraphs about blowing out the seals or doing other grevious danger to this expensive system. Not worth the risk.

I called Technautics and of course they no longer offer a simple little manual analog thermostat. They now only offer a $300 digital thermostat, which is probably ten times what the original cheapie cost back when it was new, and which will probably not last 20 years like the one that failed. I did get the new thermostat installed and I must admit it is pretty kewl. One sets the desired temperature and the thermostat provides a constant digital readout of the reefer temperature and controls the compressors. It was made to install on a control panel or in a bulkhead. I did not want to cut a hole in my teak, so I found a nice little electrical box at West Marine and used it to mount the thermostat. It did require running six wires, two for power, two for the temperature probe, and two for the compressor controllers, however it was pretty easy to do with a very long drill bit that would reach through the thick freezer walls.

Fancy new digital controller for the freezer/reefer. I installed it where it would not get wet and where I could see it easily. Excuse the sawdust. I had to drill several holes to install this thing as it has six wires involved with it that I had to run through the cabinetry.

The next project was rough on the old back. I had decided to put in a second GPS system as a backup, and to install it in my cabin where it can provide me course, speed, and position in the night, and also function as a back up anchor alarm when I am asleep at anchor. This involved installing a new GPS antenna on the stern rail and running 25 feet of coax under the cockpit. This involved removing two large anchors, and two chain/rope rodes and other heavy gear from the starboard lazarette. It also involved taking up deck boards inside the boat and emptying several storage lockers. Nothing on a boat is easy. Nothing. However I like the result.

Astraea has a new Furuno NavNet system with integrated radar and GPS with a large monitor at the navigation desk and a smaller remote monitor at the helm, however this simple GPS in my cabin provides a backup and also lets me glance up when I am sleeping to see position, course, speed, and also provides a backup anchor alarm when at anchor.

The third project that I was able to complete on a very busy day, and which also was rough on the old back, was installing a salt water faucet at the galley sink. I had already installed a new faucet for hot and cold pressurized water, and also a small faucet with a Whale foot pump for fresh water when the water pump is turned off. This is important as when far from water sources it is not a good idea to have the water pump on as a leak can quickly result in pumping all the fresh water into the bilge and thence over the side. This happened to me on the shake down trip from San Francisco to San Diego. This was not big deal as I was close to fresh water sources, but out in the ocean, without a water maker, it could be a serious problem. Hence the foot pump for fresh water.

I also had decided that I needed a salt water pump at the galley sink in order to be able to reduce fresh water use. One can wash dishes in salt water and then rinse in fresh, cutting down on precious fresh water usage. Also, when cooking pasta, once of my favorite things to eat on the boat, why use fresh water and then salt it when one can boil the pasta in seawater? I had the boatyard put in a new thru hull during the last yard visit for this salt water faucet and for a possible future water maker. Here is the new faucet. It is Swedish made and supposed to be really good quality.

Anyway, here is my new salt water pump. My young friend and experienced cruiser Jacob suggested a bucket and a rope. Ah, the energy of youth. The new salt water pump is on the right. Pretty kewl! The small faucet on the left has a foot pump on galley deck and provides fresh water without the need for the water pump to be on.

This will be all the work for a while. I am heading back to Palm Springs to spend some time at home, and then making a trip to Little Rock to see my mother and sister and friend Carol. I am also attending a high school reunion. (I won't say which one!!!!).

Will be back on the boat on September 29th ready to finish the final projects for the October 26th departure!!!!

Punch list for departing October 26

2009-09-10T15:43:00.000-07:00

Visited Astraea this past week for a couple of days to see how she fared during my time away in Guatemala. She was ship shape and bristol fashion, no problems. Ah, she is a good old boat. I am always pleasantly surprised by the lack of smells or mildew or mold or other problems. That may change once we are in Mexico. HA! Wednesday was such a beautiful day in San Diego that I decided to take her out for a quick day sail in the Bay. She had been dockside since our arrival from San Francisco in June. I really do not like getting underway from our berth in Chula Vista, the southernmost part of San Diego, about as close as one can get to Mexico and not need a passport. In fact I can see Mexico from my kitchen window.... er, galley porthole. Anyway, the channel to the marina is long and narrow and winds through very shallow water. Also it runs right along the Navy berths at the Amphib base. Also, the marina slip where they put me is too small. I cannot even use my fenders when exiting or entering my slip it is so narrow. Also there is not enough room in the fairway to back out without several "backing and filling" maneuvers. Docking into the slip is a bit hairy too as there is no room at all for error. Just not worth the trouble to get underway. If I were not leaving for Mexico in October I would change marinas, or at least get a bigger berth.

Anyway, the day sail did not turn out to be much fun. We were about 45 minutes up the narrow channel when the engine suddenly died on me. My new engine with 180 hours on it. My $30,000 engine! At the time it died I was only about 100 feet from a barrier with a big sign saying US Navy Property Keep Clear. Of course the current was moving me TOWARD the barrier. I did not have time to try to restart the engine, so I rushed forward and dropped the anchor. Once I was certain that I was secure and would not drift down onto the Navy barrier then shifted the dual Racor filter over and the engine started right up without a problem. Still don't know why this happened, both of the fuel filters are totally clean, but it was a bit nerve racking at the time to lose power as I was so close to the restricted Navy area. I could just see some boat load of Navy SEALS coming out with their machine guns to board me and search the boat. Anyway, all's well that ends well and we were soon underway again. However I decided that I had enough excitement for the day and headed back to the marina and had no problems. Ran the engine almost an hour at the berth with the shaft engaged to try to reproduce the problem, but everything is perfect. Must have been some air in the fuel line. The Westerbekes are self bleeding, which is probably why the engine started up instantly after this "hiccup". Mystery.

The next day I spent working on my list of things to do on the boat before leaving for Mexico. The list is so long it is a bit frustrating. I have classified tasks into Priority 1, things that must be done before Mexico; Priority 2, things to do in Mexico; Priorit 3, things to do IF I decide to cross the Pacific.

I stopped by the All Roads Satellite store in San Diego and got my new Iridium 9505A satellite phone, a remote satellite antenna for it, a data interface cable, and a new laptop just for satellite e-mail. I am also going to subscribe to a satellite weather information system that will send me digital weather maps and forecasts via the phone. Up to the minute weather maps, voice, and e-mail all via satellite. So totally kewl! This type of technology was unthinkable back when I was in the Navy. It all cost me a couple of thousand dollars, but it will give me a lot of piece of mind to know that I am in voice and e-mail touch with home and the rest of the world. The phone even has it's own "Extreme" water tight hard case that is International Orange and Floats. If I ever have to go into the life raft the phone will definitely be in my ditch bag.

New Iridium 9505A, new laptop for satellite communications, and satellite modem for the Iridium. Also a portable Sony SSB receiver. Kewl new stuff.

I have also purchased a sweet little Sony SSB receiver. So many people LOVE their SSB systems and get their ham licenses and spend hours a day on the radio. That is not me. I did not even like talking on the radio when I was in the Navy. Don't like talking on my VHF. Therefore a SSB is not me. However this Sony will allow me to listen to the cruiser nets, weather forecasts, and with the Short Wave bands, to commercial short wave radio stations.

I have ordered new LED lights for the inside of the boat. I had replaced all of the old light fixtures with LED a couple of years ago, but they turned out to be total crap. The company that made them went out of business. There is a new vendor, called LunaSea, that makes a really awesome LED fixture. I bought two and installed them as a test. They are super, bright, wonderful! I have ordered another four to replace the remainder of the cabin lights.

Also ordered mosquito netting and velcro to make mosquito nets for the deck hatches.

So many things to do and so little time left to do it! Yikes! Also the budget is getting a bit stretched so some things I would like to have are just not going to be purchased right now.

Back in Palm Springs for a new days. When the netting and new fixtures come in will go back to San Diego to install the lights and make the mosquito nets.

Catalina Island to San Diego - Entering Marina in Pitch Dark

2009-06-22T15:47:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning at sunrise I was ready to head for San Diego. When I had decided to pick an isolated little cove at Santa Catalina to anchor I had thought about perhaps staying for a couple of days in ideal solitary splendor. As you will see from my previous post this was far from an ideal anchorage. No wonder there were no other boats anchored here. Note to self: if nobody else is in an anchorage there may be a reason.

We weighed anchor with no problems and were underway by 5:50am heading to San Diego. Again, as is typical for this trip, the morning was flat calm without a ripple on the water from any wind whatsoever. Another day of motoring.

Fortunately about noon the wind picked up a bit to about ten knots, and fortunately for us it was from the South-East which meant that we were on a beam reach, Astraea's favorite wind position. I bent on the main, full, no reefs, let out the jib, and with a little help from the engine we were flying all afternoon at 7 - 7.7 knots. Now I had not planned this very well, and the trip from our anchorage to San Diego was actually about 80 miles, which meant that we needed the speed to get to our new marina before sunset at 8:00pm. My computations had us in the marina just at sunset, which would work out well.

Things do not always go as planned. Although we did have great winds all afternoon a couple of complicating factors came up. First, off the coast there was some huge oil tanker alongside an offshore oil rig and security boats were requiring all boats to stay at least two miles away. Of course they were RIGHT in our planned course toward San Diego. This meant that the security boats made us make a huge loop around the oil tanker, which added some delay. Also, as we approached San Diego the wind DIED. Time to douse the sails and motor. Also, as we are a small boat, I had no intention of going all the way out to sea to the entrance buoy. That was for BIG SHIPS like aircraft carriers and cruise ships. We little fellas can cut the corners. Then as we approached San Diego I read the sailing directions and it warned of heavy kelp that came out more than two miles from Point Loma, the entrance to San Diego. Now kelp feeds the fish and has some good purposes for existing, however it also fouls props and engine water intakes. This meant a large swing out to seaward to the entrance buoy, just like an aircraft carrier. This added an hour to the trip which I had not anticipated. Lesson being reinforced: on a sailboat never depend on a trip going as planned. Schedule in delays.

Note: A major lesson was learned here. In the future when sailing from Catalina to San Diego I will plan to leave Catalina after lunch, take advantage of the afternoon and evening winds, and sail through the night to arrive in San Diego in the morning. I should have done it this way this time and would have if I were not actually getting a bit anxious to get to my new marina. Lesson learned: never be in a hurry; take advantage of afternoon winds; factor in unforeseen delays; arrive in unfamiliar ports in daylight.

Anyway, we entered the channel into San Diego at 6:30pm. We were NOT going to make it to the marina by sunset at 8:00pm. No way no how, but there was nowhere else to go. San Diego is NOT anchoring friendly and there are no places to anchor without prior arrangement. Well, I thought, another first, I will just have to enter the marina after dark.

Point Loma.

It might not be the South Pacific, but after 536 miles down the coast it looked beautiful to me!

The trip through San Diego Harbor was exciting and fun and brought back fond memories of my years here as a naval officer. Navy helicopters were overhead, boats of SEAL's (the Navy kind, not the barking kind) were zipping across the harbor, and we passed countless US Navy ships in Coronado and National City. However the temperature was dropping, the sun was setting, and the clouds were coming in thick and dark. It was going to be a very dark night.

I spent a lot of time on one of these during my years in the Navy.

Fond memories of the Navy flooded over me as I passed the many ships of the US Navy that were in San Diego and National City.

Downtown San Diego at sunset.

Had I been a bit smarter I would be seeing this at Sunrise rather than sunset.

Arriving late was not a good idea.

Joshua Slocum, my idol, was probably one of the greatest navigators of all times. He circled the globe with nothing but a sextant. He did not even have a chronometer to help him determine Longitude. Thankfully I have Furuno in my life. As we moved through San Diego Harbor I kept cranking down the range until we came to the end of the San Diego channel and entered the Chula Vista Channel. Now the words Chula Vista Channel should be in small letters, no capitals, as it is a SMALL narrow poorly lit channel with SMALL buoys with weak lights. To make it worse, in the distance is Tijuana, Mexico, which is brightly lit and obscures the small lights on the buoys. Also the track into Chula Vista takes several hard turns. It was pitch black. It was cold. Amazingly the Furuno GPS was accurate to within feet, as each time I passed a buoy it was right there on the GPS screen just where it should be. When I purchased the Furuno system I thought about whether I should put a second repeater at the helm. It added a lot of extra costs. In retrospect it was worth it. Without the GPS I probably would have been aground outside Chula Vista somewhere.

I slowed to five knots, then three knots, as we wound our way along the sinuous course through the chula vista channel. We found the entrance lights to the marina. Now we were in the marina. Now, where was our assigned dock, C-36? So close but yet so far. Where was our little spot in this huge harbor of several hundred dock spaces? I made several circles in the marina while using my spotlight to try to find some markers at the end of the many rows of docks to show me which was C dock! Of course there we NO MARKERS of any kind. Fortunately luck was with me and a police boat came in as I was circling. I called to them asking them if they knew where C-36 was and they shined their spotlight on the dock and showed me where I was to go. Thank you harbor police!!!!

With my heart a bit in my throat I turned down the fairway, praying that this was in fact the right channel and that there would be an open slip where it was supposed to be. It was dark. Very dark. Pitch black dark. Note that boats do not have headlights. The only headlights on a ship are the lights in the "head". (Old Academy joke). Now these fairways are MUCH narrower than what we had in San Francisco. Much more narrow. I was actually very concerned about making my turn tight enough in the dark to line up properly with the slip. However once more luck was with me and we turned just right and were headed directly into the darkness of the slip when a voice yelled. "STOP! STOP! My dinghy is in this slip." The guy who had the next slip did not know I was arriving and had left his dinghy and motor in my new slip and was frantically waving his arms. Now I was committed to entering the slip at this point. There was no going back. I stopped halfway into the slip and we quickly agreed that he would move his dinghy to the side as far forward as possible and I moor at an angle in the slip. I was not about to leave the slip and go circle around again while he moved his dinghy. Luck had allowed me a perfect approach under very difficult conditions and I was not going to press Lady Luck into doing it for me twice in a row.

So, at about 9:00PM I was moored in slip C-36 at CYM Chula Vista. Astraea and I had completed 536 miles together. There were many firsts for me in this trip, many of them you can read about in this journal. I had made my first single handed trip under sail. I had learned to dock Astraea single handed and had done so several times. I had single handed moored to a buoy - twice. I had anchored in windy conditions with rough seas. I had rounded Point Conception, the "Cape Horn of the Pacific", at 8.5 knots in 25 knots of wind on a broad reach without an accidental jibe. I had been skipper, deck hand, cook, navigator, mechanic. I had stayed awake and alert as long as 36 hours, sailed through the night twice. I had learned to raise and lower and reef and unreef the sails by myself. I had entered a strange, crowded marina in pitch dark and safely docked in my assigned slip. I must say that sailing my own boat 536 miles, single handed, down the California coast, and doing it safely and successfully is a real feeling of accomplishment.

Astraea and I have come a long ways since that day in July, 2005, when Bob and I got underway for the first time with her and ran aground in Emery Cove within the first five minutes. I kept thinking of all that I had learned from my sailing instructors, Suzette Smith and John Connolly of Modern Sailing Academy. They gave me the skills and knowledge and courage to undertake this trip and to finish it safely. Having this trip behind me I now realize that I not only learned a lot about sailing and about Astraea on this trip, but I realized that I still have a lot more to learn.

Sailing a well found boat like Astraea is sheer joy. The feeling of flying through the water on one's own boat with only the power of the wind is a a natural high. As I rounded Point Conception at 8.5 knots in 25 knots of wind the feeling of accomplishment and joy litereally brought tears to my eyes and as unsophisticated as it sounds I found myself yelling into the wind, "Yee Haw!!!".

To have faced the challenges of sailing the California coast alone, when there was nobody else around to whom to turn, is a true feeling of achievement.

A trip of 536 miles is an hour in an airplane, a full day in an automobile. Along the coast of California in a small boat it is an adventure. Doing it alone: priceless.

Channel Islands to Catalina Island - Sleeping on a Mechanical Bull

2009-06-21T15:58:00.000-07:00

Channel Islands Harbor. Not necessary a place to revisit.

Saturday the weather had been a bit overcast, but sunny in the afternoon. Sunday morning at 5:30am as I started the engine to leave Channel Islands Harbor in Oxnard the sky looked ominous. Dark clouds were on the horizon to the North and the wind was brisk inside the harbor, unusual for early morning. We backed out of our dock at 5:50am and headed for the harbor master dock. My favorite time of day, early morning, but Oxnard was not like some of the earlier ports where my companions of the morning were seals and ducks and egrets and pelicans. Channel Islands Harbor is really an overcrowded harbor with a lot of poorly maintained boats that I think are really used for floating platforms to drink beer and watch TV. Not really a place that appeals to me in the least.

The harbor master office, a very professional office here, had the red flag flying in the brisk wind, the flag that means "Small Craft Warning". Fortunately the wind was blowing us onto the harbor master dock and there were no other boats there, therefore we were able to easily get alongside and get our lines over. I was wearing my foul weather gear and anticipating some heavy weather sailing. For a brief moment I actually had a thought of staying an extra day to wait for the winds to die down, but then I realized that most of my trip had been with very little wind and what I had wanted was enough wind to actually sail! Now I had PLENTY of wind, so no time to be timid. Time to sail and sail fast! Also, I had already been in beautiful downtown Oxnard for three nights and that was more than enough. I was rested and ready to go.

At the Harbor Master office the officer on duty appeared surprised to see me so early in the morning. "You sure you want to head out into this?" he said. "Gonna be rough going out there". I assured him that I was ready to go and that I felt up to handling the weather. After all, I thought, it was really no worse than the weather that we were accustomed to in San Francisco. It is said that if one can sail in San Francisco Bay, one can sail anywhere. There is a measure of truth to that.

The officer stood up and looked out at Astraea at the pier, her flag snapping in the brisk 15-20 knot wind. "Yep," he said, "that's a perty fine rig ya got there". I agreed that she was a "fine rig" and quite up to handling the local weather.

As we headed out the breakwater at 6:20am I did have a few second thoughts as the waves were about six feet high and the frequency of just a few seconds. The wind was about 20 knots. To raise the sails one has to head into the wind, which of course normally means to head into the seas. Because of the height of the waves I put on more speed than usual and set Eloise to head us directly into the wind and seas. The waves were breaking over the bow and the wind was howling and the horizon was dark with ominous heavy clouds. I had asked for winds, and here they were! Having rounded Point Conception, however, I felt somewhat "seasoned" and confident in my ability to get the sails up and head toward Catalina. Hopefully with some good wind!

I left the cockpit with "Eloise" the auto pilot in charge of the helm. I was wearing my foul weather gear, PFD, harness, and safety harness hooked to the "jack lines", which would keep me from falling off the boat if a wave were to hit me or I was to lose my footing on the pitching deck. Due to the high waves that we were taking directly on the bow Astraea was definitely pitching. The main went up quickly with no problem, double reefed, and I carefully made my way back to the cockpit, disengaged the autopilot (Eloise), cut the throttle and headed toward Catalina. The wind was on our starboard quarter. I let out the jib and we were off under green sail power. As luck would have it, over the next couple of hours the sky brightened, the seas settled, and the wind died down to less than five knots. We had a long run to make, about 64 miles, and were going to anchor in one of the secluded coves on Catalina, which I really did not want to do after dark, therefore once again I engaged the "iron jenny" and we motor sailed through most of the day at 5-5.5 knots. I guess I used up my allotment of wind at Point Conception.

It was a quiet sail and we did not encounter another boat for the entire trip except for one rusty derelict old metal fishing boat flying a Canadian flag that refused to observe the rules of the road and forced us to jibe to miss colliding with them. They were the "give way' vessel but as they passed close ahead of us with me busy jibing to avoid hitting them the guy on the bridge came out and looked at me and shrugged. I am beginning to think that Navy ships and Astraea are the only vessels that know and observe the rules of the road. Otherwise it is just the "Law of Gross Tonnage", which means the bigger vessel has the right of way.

It was 5:00pm as we approached the anchorage at Rippers Cove on the North-East shore of Catalina Island. I had thought about continuing on South to the large recreational port of Avalon Cove. Avalon has several hundred moorings, and is a very structured port. One has to meet a harbor boat outside the harbor, be assigned a mooring, and then weave through the marine equivalent of a Wal-Mart parking lot to find one's mooring, and then use their special mooring system while people on power boats sit and sip their drinks and amuse themselves watching sailboats with their small engines and inability to back in a straight line attempt to maneuver bow and stern into position to moor properly. Being by myself and having not been in the harbor before I was more than a bit hesitant to be the evening entertainment, therefore I had decided to moor in an isolated cove. Also, I was not interested in going ashore for the facilities. There was also a huge cruise ship anchored outside the harbor, so this was probably a good idea as the harbor was more than likely packed with tourists.

Instead Astraea and I headed into a picturesque cove called Ripper's Cove. It was a small cove that offered a sand bottom (good holding) in 15-30 feet of water. It is one of the more shallow harbors on Santa Catalina and an ideal depth for us. Of course, as usual, after a day of no wind the wind began to pick up significantly about 4:00pm as we headed into the island to anchor.

If you have read of my rather frantic anchoring adventure in Cojo anchorage just south of Point Conception you will recall that in that instance where I had heavy winds and was going close to shore to get to shallow water to anchor my anchor chain fouled in the anchor locker and I had to frantically dig out my secondary anchor and anchor rode (chain and rope), rig it all up, and use it as a backup anchoring system. One of the purposes of this trip is to learn and become a better and safer sailor. This time as Eloise the auto pilot steered us toward the cove under power I dug out the secondary anchor and rigged it into the anchor holder that is attached to the bow pulpit. A very convenient place to rig the anchor. I then pulled the chain and rope anchor rode from the lazareete and flaked it out on deck in such a way that it would properly pay out if I needed to use this anchor. When I had used this anchor at the Cojo anchorage in an emergency situation (caused by my lack of proper preparation) I had discovered that I did not have a proper "swivel" on the secondary anchor. A swivel allows the anchor to stay "set", or dug in, even as the boat moves around. While in Channel Islands Harbor I had gone to West Marine (or as we sailors call it, Tiffany by the Sea) and purchased a very nice, heavy, proper swivel.

Now, as we are approaching the anchorage I had the anchor in the anchor holder, which means it was attached to the bow pulpit and hanging over the side, ready to deploy. My anchor line was properly laid out on deck. Now I needed to run the anchor line out the bow anchor guide and bring it up and attach it to the anchor. I felt a big smug in that I was going to be ready for anything this time. Just as I was attaching the anchor rode shackle to the new swivel on the anchor Astraea took a sudden and pronounced pitch and roll, all at the same time, which is not unusual with following winds and seas. You guessed it, I pitched forward against the anchor shank, which I had raised up vertically to attach the anchor line, I hit the anchor, the locking mechanism sprang open and the anchor went over the side and into the water - without the anchor line attached. Now in retrospect it is probably a good thing that I had not yet attached the anchor line as when it fell the reaction would have been to grab the line and I could have either lost the entire line and rode, gotten it tangled in the prop, or even gone over the side myself. (Not a good idea if one is holding onto an anchor). I watched rather helplessly as my expensive anchor hit the water and, of course, immediately sank in several hundred feet of water.

Plan B. I went back to the lazarette and pulled out my new and very expensive Fortress anchor, which is kept aboard for storms or conditions where I need the very most holding power. It is one of the largest of this type of anchor, Fortress, and would securely anchor a boat larger than Astraea in gale conditions. I took this anchor to the bow and, leaving it on deck, bent it onto the anchor rode. Of course my new swivel had left the boat with the anchor, so I bent on the Fortress with just a shackle, not the best way, but it works.

At about 6:00pm we were close to the shore, about 100 yards out, and I let go the main anchor, my 45 pound CQR, which is Astraea's main anchor, which has 350 feet of heavy chain attached. This time, since I had carefully prepared a second anchor, and lost my good secondary anchor and swivel over the side, the main anchor paid out perfectly and we were anchored securely in Ripper's Cove.

The cove was sheltering us somewhat from the afternoon winds; however the seas were still heavy swells from the North, most likely from a storm that was now hitting the areas up north of Point Conception. This made for a very very rough anchorage. The experience was somewhat like one of those mechanical bulls that are in the large bars like Gilley's down in Texas. Now most people ride those bulls for just a few minutes, they don't try to cook dinner, use the bathroom, and sleep on the mechanical bull. That, however, is just what I experienced this night. Now I am one who loves a gently rolling boat in an anchorage, like we experience at the moorings in Sausalito back in SF Bay. That makes me sleep well. Also, in Sausalito we would be secured to a mooring buoy where one feels very secure. A mooring buoy is securely connected to the bottom and is not normally going to drag and put one on the beach. However, as I explained earlier, this was like being on a mechanical bull. I cooked some pasta on my new Force 10 propane stove. This stove is made for sailboats and has gimbals so the stove stays "somewhat" level even as the boat rocks and rolls. I threw some sausage into the pasta and ate it in the cockpit from a bowl held securely between my legs while I watched the sun set. This was not exactly what I had pictured as I had planned for my solitary anchorage in a picturesque cove in Santa Catalina. My image had been one of quiet breezes, a gentle roll, a nice dinner and perhaps one small glass of wine, a warm breeze, and an evening watching the stars come out. Here I was huddled in foul weather gear, the wind at 15 knots, the seas at least six to eight feet, the period of the waves very short, and Astraea bucking and rolling. Add to this that my cell phone did not have a connection here. The reality of cruising was stiking home.

Ripper's Cove Santa Catalina Island. Anchored 140 yards off the beach.

My faithful Furuno watched through the night and kept track of our position off the beach as we anchored for the night. The red marks show how Astraea moved in a semicircle offshore from the anchor through the rough and windy night.

The anchor alarm was set and by 9:00pm I was confident that the anchor was holding well despite the wind and the heavy seas. I slept for an hour at a time, getting up every hour until midnight to check the anchor and the GPS. By midnight I felt secure and slept for two hours at a time, trusting my anchor was well set and my trusty anchor alarm would wake me if we moved outside our anchor circle.

Rest and Maintenance

2009-06-19T16:09:00.000-07:00

Today was a day to recover physically after a rather grueling week of sailing, three 'all nighters" and two days that lasted 30 hours! We are not as young as we used to be and need a little recovery time. Also, Astraea needed a little maintenance.

Despite the rigors of the trip Astraea had done quite well thus far. This has really been a "shake down" cruise as she has not had much sailing on her since her last yard work and except for two trips from San Francisco to Half Moon Bay really not done any significant sailing since November.

One annoying problem was that the fresh water system had sprung a major leak while in Monterey. Upon leaving Monterey I discovered that the tank that was "on line" with the water pump was totally empty. I had just filled it in Monterey. Also, when I turned on the electric pressurized water system, I could hear water running somewhere but could not find where. I therefore decided to just leave the pressurized water off and use the back-up, the foot pump at the galley sink. Really more of a nuisance than a serious problem. That is unless I ended up losing all my fresh water! However I had three cases of bottled water onboard so I was not that worried.

Today I determined to find the source of the leak. I removed all the deck boards in the cabin sole (the floor of the main cabin of the boat) to expose all the plumbing. When I turned on the water pump I could hear water "gushing" and the bilge was filling with fresh water, but I could not find where it was coming from. Finally I found the source of the leak and it was under the new hot water heater, which is in the bilge aft of the engine. This was going to be a major undertaking. For the next almost two hours I disconnected all the wiring and connections to the new hot water heater and lifted it out. There was no piping below it. Then I realized that the water supply line to the hot water heater had been missing before I took it out. I fished around in the area under where the hot water heater had been located and found the disconnected fresh water hose. The culprit! However had I been a bit more observant I could have avoided the two hours of work to remove and reinstall the hot water heater. I think my tired brain was not working up to speed or I would have noticed this. The problem is now fixed and Astraea oce again has hot and cold running water!

Also climbed the mast and replaced the bulb in the 20 point light that had burned out. Also did some cleaning and transferred fuel from tank #2 to tank #1.

A long afternoon nap was followed by some titivating ship and organizing things again. Had dinner at a local Thai restaurant and now ready to hit the rack early tonight. Tomorrow is another day of rest and maintenance and then on Sunday it will be time to head for Catalina Island, last stop before San Diego.

Channel Island Harbor, Oxnard, CA

2009-06-18T16:11:00.000-07:00

One of the many offshore oil rigs in the Santa Barbara Channel.

Today was a first for this cruise. There was a sun! And it was warm! Rounding Point Conception is a dramatic change from the cold and damp of Northern California to the sun and warmer temperatures of SoCal. Also, today, for the first time I put on shorts and a T-shirt. The first day without foul weather gear! In fact, in four years of sailing in San Francisco I don't remember ever sailing in shorts and a t-shirt! Definitely a welcomed change.

I had decided to bypass Santa Barbara and press on for the Channel Islands Harbor in Oxnard. According to the sailing guide this is a nice, modern harbor with plenty of facilities.

It was a long day and the highlight was definitely two more whale sightings, this time I saw one close aboard blowing water out it's blow hole into the air! Also lots of dolphins and sea birds. Once again there was virtually no wind, so the iron jenny (the engine) helped the boat along to keep us at an average of knots in order to reach the harbor before night fall. I feel badly using the engine so much this trip, but if I had not I would still not be to Monterey. All the wind thus far this trip was within 20 miles of Point Conception!

It was a long day, about 12 hours, of motor sailing. Saw no other boats but passed a number of huge offshore oil rigs. The wind picked up about five miles out of Channel Islands Harbor, but by that time I was rigging mooring lines and fenders and preparing to enter port.

By dinner time I was safely moored and was able to crash and get some much needed sleep. It had been a long week.

Point Conception and Cojo Anchorage

2009-06-17T16:17:00.000-07:00

Wednesday. Point Conception is known as the "Cape Horn of the Pacific" and can be treacherous. This is the point where the colder winds from the NW meet the warmer climate of Southern California, and where the southerly flow of the cold currents meet the northerly flow of the warmer currents from the south. Rounding Point Conception has been a test of a sailor for hundreds of years, since the early days of the Spanish explorers. Now it was my turn.

I slipped the buoy at sunrise in Morrow Bay. It was of course overcast and chilly, the same as it had been every day except the one sunny day I was in port in Monterey. This is one of the moments that I love, however, leaving a port early in the morning at sunrise. There are very few people around, perhaps a few fishermen, and it is normally quiet and calm. I was lucky in that the current was slack, so getting underway from the buoy was easy, and I was quietly gliding down the river toward the sea and Point Conception. There were blue herons and white egrets in the early morning hunting for fish and once again nature was in all her glory.

Once again there was very little wind. I raised the sails, however as Point Conception was ahead I put two reefs in the main, but did raise the mizzen and let out the jib. I was ready. Or so I thought.

At about 8:30 in the morning as I was clear of Morrow Bay and about eight miles off shore I had my first whale sighting! Spectacular! I was sailing along and suddenly this huge glack and white fin comes out of the water off my bow and this monstrous creature appears. He or she was at least as big as Astraea, probably much larger, and it was a bit frightening but even more exciting. I have always wondered how people could slaughter these beautiful creatures. However as I watched the whale with total awe I could not help but think that once in a great while a large whale takes a dislike to a sailboat and will attack it, often sinking it. Fortunately this whale seemed to be in a better mood than that and was just enjoying it's day.

There was a GREAT BIG WHALE here just a moment ago.

The seas were on my beam with large swells and Astraea was rolling much more than usual. I was glad that I had been spending a lot of time in stowing everything away securely, however there were still a few bangs and crashes coming from below. Hopefully nothing important.

It was cold. Very cold. Overcast. However there is no rain today nor is any forecasted. Hopefully this forecast would hold out and this would be my first day of this voyage without rain while underway. I was so looking forward to Southern California!

There was not much wind, so cranked the engine up to about 2200 rpm to give us enough speed to pass Point Arguello by 3pm. The area between Arguello and Conception is where all hell normally breaks loose.

We passed Point Arguello and it was not so bad. There was maybe five knots of wind and we were actually motor sailing. However over a period of about half an hour all that changed and the wind started howling and in no time was at least 25 knots from the port quarter. Now a broad reach, or having the wind on the rear quarter of the boat, provides good speed, but is dangerous as if one does not carefully control the course of the boat the stern can move through the wind and the wind is then on the opposite quarter and, bang, the main boom goes flying across the cockpit and can actually break the boom and the controls that handle the main boom. This can be very very bad. Of course, being a fully fitted out boat, I have the latest boom brake technology to slow the movement of the boom when doing an "accidental jibe", or even intentionally jibing, however I had forgotten to rig it. Too late now. We were flying along at over eight knots, the wind howling in the rigging, Astraea was heeling at least 30 degrees and the water was almost up to the toe rails (the uppermost sides of the boat). The rule here is to let out some main sail to slow down the boat, but I was clutching the helm and it was taking all my concentration to keep Astraea on course and not jibe her in these heavy winds. What was making matters even more difficult was that the waters had become like a washing machine, with huge waves breaking all around us, mostly from astern, which was throwing our stern from side to side and making it even more difficult to control Astraea and keep her on a safe course. All hell had broken loose. The adreneline was flowing, and I was calling on all of my sailing experience and instruction, but I could not help also thinking "what the hell have I gotten myself into?"

This is one of those situations where the new solo sailor looks around and says, "I am on my own". There was nobody to help me. Nobody but Astraea. She is a great boat, and I knew that she could easily handle this if I could. I was determined to get us through this safely.

We rounded Point Conception at 8.5 knots under sail, two reefs, mizzen (which was not a good idea, but too late to take it down), and full jib. From the sailing guide I knew that there was a sheltered beach area just a few miles past Point Conception where I could anchor for the night and get out of the fierce NW winds. This anchorage, called Cojo anchorage, has been known since whaling days and is used for people to wait for the weather to be acceptable to go North, or for people to rest after coming South. I needed a place to rest. I was beat, and I did not want to sail another six hours to Santa Barbara, the nearest port, and enter there at night. I decided to turn into the shore and find this obscure anchorage.

Now this is totally against common sense, to turn toward the shore, now with 25+ knots of wind on the beam, and head at full speed toward sheer cliffs and crashing surf. It did not make sense, however logically I knew this was what I had to do. The sheltered anchorage was in there. Somewhere. The cruising guide said to look for a railroad embankment and the center of the anchorage was directly in line with a large culvert that ran under the railroad embankment. Well, what the guide does not tell one is that one has to be VERY close to the shore to FIND the damn railroad embankment. Fortunately as I was moving toward shore at full speed a large silver train passed down the coast. The gods were with me! I was able to see where it passed across the embankment and then disappeared into a tunnel. I headed for the shore with my heart pounding and my mouth as dry as cotton. If I screwed up I would find my boat and myself on the pounding surf under a huge cliff.

As I approached the shore there were no other sail boats there. This of course made me wonder, "is this the right railroad embankment"? After all the damn train runs all the way down the coast. However there was one large commercial ship at a mooring buy near the shore. I turned into the wind, turned on the auto pilot, and wrestled down the three sails that were luffing (flapping) noisily. With the engine on I headed toward the shore and what was, hopefully, the Cojo anchorage.

I had prepared my anchor for letting go, and as I was about 200 yards from the shore I put the boat into neutral and ran forward to drop the anchor. Now 200 yards sounds like a long ways. If one is running down two football fields it is a long ways. If one is heading toward a crashing surf at the base of 200 foot cliffs it is not very far at all. I let go the anchor brake and the anchor started to fall and then - CLUNK. It stopped. With about 20 feet of anchor chain and my large CQR anchor out it just stopped. The water was 30 feet deep, so this was going to do me NO good. I was just dangling a lot of chain and anchor into the water. I tried to pull up on the anchor chain to pull it up the hawse pipe and out of the chain locker, but it would not budge. Something was wrong down below in the chain locker. I ran frantically to the cockpit, then down into the boat, and forward to the anchor locker, which is forward of the v-berth inside the boat. The anchor chain was in a huge knot inside the anchor locker. Now when one has a bunch of line, or "rope", in a knot, it is usually a matter of working with it. This is not as easy with heavy (3/8" inch) steel chain. I dragged a huge ball of fouled chain out of the chain locker and onto the deck of the v-berth and stared at it. What the hell to do now? How am I going to untangle this mess!

I realized I had better run topside and see what was happening. Forunately the wind was blowing me away from the shore, but it was also blowing me directly toward the anchored commercial vessel. I engaged the engine and gave her full throttle to move away from the commercial ship and toward the pounding surf, with my anchor and 25 feet of chain hanging off the bow. Also, this is an area of lots of kelp. Kelp is huge thick globs of sea grass that grows from the ocean floor and is good stuff in that fish eat it. Kelp is bad stuff in that it can wrap around propellers and get sucked up into the cooling water system for the engine and cause the engine to stop. This was NOT a time to loose the engine. There was some lee due to the protection of Point Conception, but there was still a good 20 knots, even in the sheltered anchorage. (Sheltered is a relative term).

Lesson learned. When going into a dangerous anchorage have a second anchor on deck and ready to let go. After getting Astrea back closer to shore and away from the anchored commercial ship I frantically dug into the starboard locker in the cockpit and dragged out a smaller anchor and 200 feet of chain and rode (thick nylon rope) that is used as a second anchor or as a stern anchor (I have aboard a total of four anchors). I dragged the anchor to the bow, bent on the anchor chain and rode, and threw it over the bow. Of course the rode then jammed in a knot and was tangled on the bow as I had not laid out the line properly for it to feed over the side. With tremendous exertion and some luck I was able to get the anchor rode untangled, and the second anchor grabbed and the anchor line tightened and we were holding. Yeah!!!! Now it was time to try to get the primary anchor out. I ran below and dragged about 50 feet of anchor chain into the main salon of the boat and was able to get it untangled. I then ran topside and was able to feed out the main anchor and 150 feet of heavy anchor chain. We were now anchored with two anchors and we did not appear to be dragging. About 200 yards ahead the surf was pounding, almost as hard as my heart was pounding! The sun was setting. The wind was blowing. It was cold. I sat there on the bow, my chest heaving, my mouth as dry as cotton, my legs weak, and I thought of my cardiac surgeon who did my bypass about eight years ago. I think we just tested out her work, big time, and I felt that it was holding. I could not remember the last time that I had put such a physical demand on my body. I vowed that I was going to learn how to do things better and try to not get myself into a dangerous situation like this again.

It was a long night. I put the GPS on anchor watch, which would alert me if the boat dragged anchor, ie moved from her anchored position. The wind was still howling and the current was strong, but I had two anchors down. I set my alarm clock for an hour and slept. I checked the anchor, the weather, the GPS, reset the alarm, and slept another hour. I woke up every hour through the night to ensure that Astraea was safe. It was a VERY long night.

In the early morning at first light we weighed both anchors and headed for our next port. Point Conception was astern as we headed toward the Santa Barbara channel.

Looking toward Cojo anchorage. Not an easy place to find.

Morrow Bay

2009-06-16T16:21:00.000-07:00

Approach to Morrow Bay.

This is one harbor entrance that is hard to miss! Just look for the rock.

I can remember from my days in the Navy that one of the great excitements of sailing is entering a new port for the first time. One reads the cruising guides, port guides, and studies the charts, however there are always little surprises on a first visit. Also, it is just fun to know that here is a new place to "discover" and "explore".

Morrow Point is the most popular jumping off point for boats heading South to Point Conception. It is a small town with a great little yacht club. One cannot miss the harbor as it entrance is at a breakwater just behind this massive rock that rises 576 feet over the ocean and the town just behind it.

It was a nice morning, albeit a bit overcast and cold. Still foul weather gear sailing. Entrance was straight forward and Astraea quietly motored into the winding channel. Morrow Bay is not a large wide bay. It is really like a long and winding river with strong currents and twice daily tide shifts. There are lots of boats here, both commercial and pleasure, but all of them were either in one of the few docks along the one side, or moored to mooring balls outside the channel. Fortunately the Morrow Bay Yacht Club has several mooring balls that they provide for a fee to visiting yacht club members. As I entered the harbor, about 9:30am, I tried to call the Yacht Club harbor master and go voice mail. However I found the yacht club and saw a series of several morring balls marked MBYC. I decided to take mooring ball number three and hope that this would be acceptable to the Yacht Club.

Another first. Mooring to a mooring ball. In a heavy current. Now Bob and I had done this several times in Sausalito, but it had taken two of us. One to drive, the other to snag the buoy and attach a mooring line to it. This time, however, I was alone. However remembering my lessons from Suzette on how to do this, I approaced the mooring ball upstream and maneuvered to put the ball at the cockpit. I moved quickly from the helm to the side of the boat, grabbed my mooring line, and was able to get it through the shackle on the mooring buoy the first try. Jubiliation! I had done it! In my mind the act of mooring to a buoy, alone, was a major challenge and I had done it! I had been up now for about 25 hours, sailed all night, and moored to a buoy. I was feeling great!!!

I did reach the Yacht Club harbor master and he said to come to the club dock and register and pay the mooring fee. This meant launching the dinghy, which was not a big deal. This time I decided to use the oars and leave the outboard behind as it was just a short 100 feet or so from Astraea to the Yacht Club dock.

At the club dock I met this lovely lady, a beautiful and friendly, purely delightful lady who was working on ther wooden boat. She was sawing away with her circular saw and obviously had a major project going on. We chatted and it turns out that she had the boat built many years ago in Guatemala when her husband was at the embassy there for ten years. (I did not ask how many years ago the boat was built although I was curious. It looked to be from the 60's or 70's). This lady was obviously a sailor and a craftswoman, as she was definitely working hard on her boat. I would guess that she was in her 70's.

She warned me that the buoy that I had moorred to was not for a boat as large and heavy as Astraea, and that when the current shifted from ebb to flood that Astraea would swing her stern into a channel marker and probably damage the boat and certainly the new Monitor wind vane. I thanked her for her advice, dinghyed out to Astraea, and shifted to a different mooring that she suggested. Once again, I was able to snatch the buoy the first try! Sweet!!!!

I ran to the store, got some provisions and water, and returned to my dinghy at the yacht club to row my water and food to the boat. The wind was picking up and was quite brisk now, probably 15 knots in the harbor, and the current a good 3 knots. It was quite a task to row the short distance to the boat. Just as I was securely on my boat I saw my new friend on her large wooden boat, solo, driving it deftly out to her mooring buoy and mooring it like the pro that she was. Wow, what a sailor! I want to be like her some day.

A quiet evening in Morrow Bay.

Time to get some rest for the rounding of Point Conception tomorrow.

All Night Sail to Morrow Bay

2009-06-15T16:24:00.000-07:00

The sea lions on the sea wall at Monterey Harbor.

At about 8:30am we were underway from Beautiful Monterey. It was a magical morning. For one thing, I was now embarking upon new waters. I had never had Astraea South of Monterey before. Also, it was just a beautiful morning. Yes, of course the beautiful weather of the day before was gone and it was overcast and drizzling and cold, however Monterey is just a beautiful place. The hundreds of sea lions were barking and making their usual cacophony and as I motored into the harbor there were at least 100 dolphins swimming on the surface and jumping out of the water all around me, with some playing in my bow wake. It was like they were all bidding me farewell and good luck. Birds of all kinds were also in the air and on the water. It was a veritable nature fest! One of the most beautiful things about the ocean is the vast array of sea life in, over, and around it.

Once again there was NO WIND. This is getting tiresome. So I raised all the sails but also set the engine for about 1800rpm and we sailed toward Morrow Bay at about 5 knots.

Table for one with an ocean view.

Dinner aboard Astraea underway from Monterey to Morrow Bay. I eat topside where I can watch for traffic. Notice the glass of water. No wine or other alcohol while underway!!!!

It was going to be another all night sail, however this time I was much better prepared as I had gotten a good nights sleep, about eight hours, and not gotten up until about 6:30am. I felt rested and ready to take it on.

The Big Sur coastline as the sun began to set.

It was another long night. I sat in the cockpit and Eloise steered. Oh, yes, the Auto Pilot is now named Eloise. Eloise was one of the dearest friends I have had in my life, and she passed away a couple of years ago at 85. Her name was Eloise von Otto. Auto. Get it? Eloise von Auto Pilot? Well, sorry, but I thought it fun and also Eloise was an important part of my life, and I was finding the auto pilot to also be a major source of joy. It would be incredibly difficult to have to steer all the time. However I just set Eloise ona course and sit back with my book, scan the horizon every few minutes, check the radar, the GPS, the engine, the sails. Eloise keeps us on course. Could not do this without her. Also, it is nice to know that Eloise is with me in spirit on this adventure. She would like that.

Sunset at sea is always stunning, but it does make one think about being totally alone in a tiny boat on a huge ocean.

Beautiful Day in Monterey

2009-06-14T16:35:00.000-07:00

A perfect day in Monterey. For the first time in two weeks there was a blue sky and the sun! I even put on a pair of shorts. The day was spent doing laundry at the marina office, more cleaning and inventorying and stowing things aboard the boat, and making preparations for the 130 mile trip to Morrow Bay.

I took a long walk through the town, walked along Cannery Row, and just enjoyed the day. It brought back fond memories of last October when I was here on Astraea with Bob and my fiends Julie and Scott. I wish they were here now!

In the first two legs from San Francisco to Half Moon Bay, and then to Monterey, we had covered barely 90 miles. This next leg is 130. This time the planning is a bit more careful. I will sleep in a bit, get underway about 10am on Monday, and hopefully be in Morrow Bay early morning on Tuesday. Morrow Bay gets a lot of fog, so here’s hoping that Monday is an exception. I really don’t want to make another landing into another strange port in the fog!

So here it is Sunday night. Astraea is fueled, the water tanks full, the boat stowed, provisioned, the charts studied, and we are ready for leg three!

Arrival in Monterey And Sheer Exhaustion

2009-06-13T16:38:00.000-07:00

Approaching Monterey Bay. Note the weather. Have not seen the sun yet.

After a cold, wet, dark, damp windless night the wind picked up to about 15 knots as I approached the entrance to Monterey. Of course while out in the sea I had no wind at all, just fog, but I get close to the entrance to the harbor and the wind picks up. Also, it was still raining, as the NOAA forecast of a “slight chance of showers” had turned into a full night of cold rain.

The approach to Monterey was done in very limited visibility and the money that we had spent for all the fancy new Furuno GPS and radar (which was now actually showing the local area and not Tokyo Bay) were incredibly valuable tools for entering an unfamiliar harbor in the rain and fog. Thank you Furuno! We made it into the harbor, dodged the tourist boats who were outbound to visit the sea lions and sea otters, found our assigned berth and made a perfect landing. Nobody was watching, hence the perfect landing. If other sailors or tourists are watching the chances of a perfect landing is slight. If nobody is watching the chances of success are much greater.

A long hike across the harbor to the harbor master office to check in, only to discover I had forgotten my wallet, and therefore back to the boat, back to the marina office, and back to the boat again. It was not about 10am and I had been up since 4:30am the morning before, or some 30 hours, most of this cold and wet. (This is what results when one gets underway on a Friday).

I kept thinking “Are we having fun yet?” Upon arriving back to the boat it all hit me at once and I was the most tired that I can ever remember being in my life. I was exhausted. My legs were so weak that I had to crawl up on the deck of the boat from the pier. Thank gawd Astraea has a low freeboard and is not like one of the newer boats like a Hunter with their high sides. After ignobly crawling aboard my faithful boat and peeling off my soaking wet foul weather gear I collapsed into my rack and slept the sleep of the near dead for about three hours. In the past 30 hours I had weighed anchor in Half Moon Bay, anchored in Half Moon Bay, climbed to the top of the 53 foot mast, climbed down the mast, inflated and launched the dinghy, mounted the heavy outboard onto the dinghy, gone ashore, returned to Astraea, removed the outboard, hoisted the dinghy aboard, deflated and stowed it, gotten underway, sailed 87 miles in the cold and the rain, entered a strange harbor in the fog and rain, and docked the boat. Take this with the fact that I have barely 3 months left before I turn 60, and one could say that it was a very full 30 hour day for an old guy. I need to start doing better planning.

However after a three hour nap I woke up ready to get back to work. The boat had mud all over her foredeck from the anchoring in Half Moon Bay and was dirty from bow to stern. As I stood on the dock looking at the anchor, which was encased in about 20 pounds of sticky gooey mud, an old salt from the Marina walked by and said, “Looks like ya done been ta Half Moon Bay. We call that place the mud hole”.

It took about two hours to get the boat washed down and looking good again. On my work list of the day was also to rearrange a lot of the tools and spare parts on board, and most of the afternoon was done inventorying items, rearranging them, and making a detailed list of everything aboard and where it was stowed. Not a lot of fun, but it needed to be done. By early evening the “to do” list for the day was completed and it was time to fix some dinner. By 8:30pm, I was dead asleep. It had been quite a day.

Never Leave Port on a Friday

2009-06-12T16:41:00.000-07:00

I had decided the previous night that the weather looked good for Friday morning so it was time to head for Monterey. This would be a long full day trip, and I wanted to arrive in Monterey during daylight, so I arose at 4:30am, just like two days previously in San Francisco. By 5:45am, just as the sun was rising, we were departing Half Moon Bay with the fishing fleet.

Half Moon Bay As Seen From the Mast Head of Astraea

Leaving port on Friday is bad luck in the mind of most experienced sailors. This superstition is thought to spring from the crucifixion of Christ on Good Friday. Doubters would believe the career mariner would like an extra day in port. Legend says the British navy fought this superstition to the point that they laid the keel of a warship on a Friday, launched the vessel on another Friday, named the craft MHS Friday, and sailed it out of port for the first time on Friday. As one would suspect, it never made it back to harbor again.

Well, here it was Friday and I was leaving port. The wind was from the North West, and as with previous trips out of Half Moon Bay, I found it best to clear the channel and get well away from the shoals and rocks before raising the sails. This was particularly important as I was alone. With the AutoHelm steering I went forward to raise the main, grabbed the main halyard, and began to hoist the main sail. The main would not budge. Now this made no sense, as I had spray lubed the slides on the sail the evening before. I stepped back and studied the line from the head of the main sail up to the top of the mast and then I saw the problem… the main halyard (the “rope” used to hoist the main) was fouled – wrapped around one of the new radar reflectors that Svendsens had installed at the top of the mast on each of the two top shrouds. There is a spare halyard on the main mast, however I did not think it prudent to go to sea with one of the two main halyards totally fouled, so I made the decision to return to Half Moon Bay and fix the problem in the safety of the harbor.

Another first was in store. I had to climb the mast to the very top, some 56 feet up, to unfoul the line. Some time ago I had bought this neat little contraption called a “Top Climber” that is similar to a mountain climber’s gear and allows one to climb the mast alone by alternately standing on foot straps, moving up a slider above one’s head that is connected to a seating platform, then sliding up the foot straps, standing, moving the upper slide, etc. Think of one of those cartoons of an inch worm crawling along with the back pushing up and then the front pulling forward. This is remarkably like the “Top Climber”.

Looking Down from the Mast Head

I began the 50 foot climb at about six inches at a time, alternately standing on the foot straps, pushing up the main straps, and repeating the process about 100 times as I climbed the mast. Taking it slowly and easily I was able to get to the top in about 20 minutes.

The trip down was like the trip up, only in reverse. Six inches at a time coming down a 50 foot mast. However I did take advantage of the opportunity to lubricate the entire main sail slide from the top of the mast down to the boom. I also was able to inspect all the rigging. All in all it was a worthwhile effort, and also I now had the primary main halyard running free.

Now I had been up since 4:30am, prepared Astraea to go to sea, raised the anchor, gotten underway, returned to port, reanchored, and climbed the mast. It was not yet 10am. I decided on another first, a trip in the new dinghy and an operational test of the new 12V electric pump for inflating the dinghy. Soon the dinghy was inflated, in the water, and my vintage Johnson Seahorse 6hp outboard mounted. Now this engine was manufactured in 1973 and definitely falls into the “vintage” category. Also, I had not used the engine for about eight months. We were anchored at least a half mile from the marina. In the best tradition of a true naval officer, which means have a Plan B, I mounted the oars to the dinghy along with the engine and we headed ashore.

This was another first for me, riding my dinghy from an anchorage into a marina. The only reason I was doing this was to test out the dinghy and the outboard, but I had also decided to have lunch ashore. After a great Fish and Chips lunch it was back to Astraea via the dinghy. After about an hour of squaring away the boat, I decided to attempt to take a short nap and head for Monterey in the late afternoon, sail all night, and arrive in Monterey the next morning. I had still not realized it was Friday.

Now, in theory, this was a totally logical plan. However add to this that I had been up since 4:30 that morning and it would be a long, 89 mile sail down the coast, at night. However in the true gung ho tradition of the Navy we were off as the sun was setting.

It was a very, very, very long night. It was cold. Very cold. It rained. It rained all night. (NOAA had forecast a slight chance of showers – so much for NOAA). There was no wind. It was totally overcast, foggy, and there was no moon and no stars. Just dark. And cold. And rain. Also, I had been up since 4:30am. It was a very, very long night. A Friday night. There may be something to these ancient superstitions!

First Solo Docking

2009-06-11T16:47:00.000-07:00

Astraea at anchor in Half Moon Bay. She never fails to take my breath away when I see her.

In Joshua Slocum’s book, “Sailing Alone Around the World”, Slocum tells about his first time as a solor sailor docking his new sloop. He described how his “heart was in his stomach” as he approached the pier. Granted that Slocum was landing a sailboat, without an engine, alongside a pier.

I will admit that 114 years after Slocum the addition of a powerful new Westerbeke engine makes Astraea much easier to handle than a boat like Slocum’s. However despite the advantage of diesel power I was, like Slocum, nervous taking Astraea alongside an unfamiliar pier and docking her alone. I made a slow approach, came close alongside the fuel dock, backed the engine slightly to slow her forward movement, and leaped ashore. Now this was an unnatural feeling, to jump from my boat onto the pier with nobody left aboard her. However as soon as I landed on the dock I grabbed her amidships spring line and made it fast to a cleat on the dock, then moved forward quickly to secure the bow line. The stern was too far out to reach the stern line, so I jumped back aboard, grabbed the stern line, and then leaped ashore again, line in hand. Of course I had run the line incorrectly so had to jump back aboard, rerun the stern line and then jump back ashore. Within a total of about two minutes or less I had gotten my morning exercise and Astraea was fast to the fuel dock.

We topped off both fuel tanks and headed back out to our anchorage for another night in Half Moon Bay.

I must admit that I left San Francisco pretty fast, and just threw my provisions (food) on board. The rest of the afternoon was spent properly preparing Astraea ready for sea, securing everything loose, and stowing all the provisions and other loose items in their proper places.

The Adventure Begins - Out the Golden Gate and Into the Pacific

2009-06-10T09:27:00.000-07:00

Today was the day I sailed out the Golden Gate and entered upon a new adventure. As I passed under the majestic Golden Gate Bridge the Pacific Ocean was spread before me. Looking out over that vast expanse I could not help but wonder what sailing adventures the future would hold for Astraea and me.

Heading for the Gate, The Golden Gate

I learned as a plebe (freshman) at the US Naval Academy that time and tide wait for no man. The Tide and Current tables showed that the max ebb at the Golden Gate would be at 06:19 with a current of 4.8 knots. At 5:30am, just before sunrise, I started Astraea’s new engine and in the quiet of the early morning just before sunrise we backed out of our slip in Emeryville for the last time. Finally, we were on our way.

As we exited the channel from the marina into the Bay the wind, as expected, was coming straight in through the Golden Gate. I am not enough of a sailing purist to endlessly tack back and forth into this wind, and if I did I would soon be fighting a flood current, so I raised the main and mizzen, left the jib furled, and motor sailed across San Francisco Bay. In the quiet of an overcast early morning the San Francisco Bay was deserted except for one container ship, a tug, and Astraea and me. We sailed alongside Alcatraz Island, adjusted course, and headed for the Golden Gate. Although we were fighting about 15 knots of wind directly on our bow the strong ebb tide carried us along and with the engine at a moderate RPM we went flying out the gate at 8.5 knots. Astern of us “The City” itself was covered in low clouds, the weather gloomy, but fortunately no morning fog. It was cold, and I was glad to be wearing my heavy foulies, standard garb for San Francisco for most of the year.

Yes, the weather was gloomy and overcast, but I didn’t care. I was sailing out the Gate, alone, on board my beautiful sailboat. The moment had finally arrived. I know my boat, and I have spent a good part of my life at sea, however this was the first time I had headed out onto the Ocean alone. I found myself almost overcome with emotion and tears flowed down my face as I felt the freedom and sheer joy and exhilearation of heading out to sea, alone aboard Astraea. This was the moment I had dreamed about for years, had daydreamed of in the windowless confines of my office. The moment was here.

I had the autopilot and Monitor wind vane connected and tested. I had rigged my jack lines and was wearing my PFD and safety harness. Also, it was just a short hop down the coast to Half Moon Bay.

The morning wind faded to nothing about half way to Half Moon Bay, so with all canvas up we motor sailed slowly, at about 4 knots, down the coast. I had to keep reminding myself that “this is not a race” and that the voyage was what was important, not just the destination. This is part of my mental shift from the fast paced professional life that I had lived for the past 37 years both in the Navy and the corporate world. It was time to SLOW DOWN and enjoy living. This is something that is not yet coming easily to me. I have to work on it.

Astraea anchored in the outer harbor at Half Moon Bay at about 1:30pm. Another first for me was anchoring solo. It turned out to be rather easy, although it did require several fast trips from the bow to the helm. I was careful not to feel too cocky in this accomplishment, however, as it was a very large and empty anchorage and very little wind or current. Actually, as far as anchoring goes, it was about as easy as it gets.

In testing out my new Furuno GPS (Global Positioning system) and radar systems as I sailed down the coast the GPS was working perfectly, but the radar was totally out of whack. I had never really used the new radar, as we had done very little sailing other than day sails since it had been installed by Svendsens Boat Works. Now that I was testing it out, however, the radar returns of the coast were nothing like I was seeing. Having spent 14 years at sea on US Navy ships, I know well how to read a radar screen and this screen was making no sense. After anchoring I made a call to Furuno and with the assistance of a friendly and competent tech rep we discovered that the technicians at Svendsens who had installed the system had left the radar in “demo” mode and what I was seeing was not the coast of California where I was sailing, but a demo radar presentation of Tokyo Harbor. A few quick adjustments and the radar was now showing Half Moon Bay and not Tokyo.

Half Moon Bay, like San Francisco, was cold, damp and overcast. The evening was spent inside the boat having a nice dinner and starting to make plans for the trip down the coast to San Diego.

Tomorrow will be another first as I have to take Astraea to the fuel dock and dock her – solo.