Leg 3 -- Michael's trip report

Morro Bay around Point Conception to Oxnard – Leg Three

Leg 3 was to take Bluewater from Morro Bay (where it had been since the previous weekend) around Point Conception to the Channel Islands Harbor Marina, located in Oxnard. This leg actually began on Friday with Mark, Angi, Lawrence and me driving from the Bay Area back down to Morro Bay.

Lawrence, beanbag chair and Angi

Before we had last left Morro Bay, Dana, a friend of Kevin’s, mentioned how he had brought a beanbag chair on a boat trip to Mexico. That somehow was translated into, “you must bring a beanbag chair” on the Ha-Ha. Knowing a beanbag chair had been secured and needed to be transported to the boat in Morro Bay, I called shotgun leaving Angi and Lawrence sharing the back seat of a Toyota Corolla with a purple naugahyde beanbag chair. 

We were greeted in Morro Bay by Kevin who would be our fifth crew member on this leg, and as mentioned elsewhere, would be staying with Bluewater from that point forward until the conclusion of the Ha-Ha and she was safely left in Mexico.

With our gear, new provisions and a headless Barney on board, four of us ventured off in search of dinner.

Over the course of dinner, Lawrence and Angi (and to a lesser degree myself) engaged in an entertaining political debate. I learned a valuable lesson from Mark that night. He told me that sometimes the winner of a political discussion is the person who stays out of it. By that measure, Mark clearly was the winner for the evening.

Three-thirty in the morning came much too soon. Mark checked the weather report for around Point Conception for the umpteenth time and declared that if we made the time he planned, which targeted us for rounding the Point by noon, we’d miss any chances for high winds and big seas.

So, we pushed off into thick fog/drizzle and blackness of morning. The newly installed radar paid off again as Mark negotiated leaving Morro Bay and its narrow jetty. No sooner had we cleared the protection of the breakwaters, the seas turned unstable. We ran over a huge “patty” of kelp that wrapped itself around the starboard engine and rudder. Mark tried to vary the speed of the engine and even attempted to go in reverse to dislodge it.

Kevin went to work using his gaff hook and finally resorting to pulling the hundred-foot sea plant up though the motor housing with Mark and me attempting to help. Once free of the brown monster, Mark reengaged the motor and we continued making forward progress.

In the few minutes I had my head down trying to help Kevin and Mark with the seaweed, I got “hit.” The combination of not being able to see more than a few feet in any direction coupled with a swirling sea and a boat deck that won’t hold still caused me to loose my bearings and within a few moments the little coffee I just drank and the previous night’s dinner.

There’s a saying that claims misery loves company. I can tell you that when you’re seasick in the midst of a multiple day journey, you don’t want a lot of company and you certainly don’t wish anyone to be experiencing the same pain you are. I wasn’t having one of my more pleasant times on Bluewater. My fellow crewmates and skipper were empathetic, but there’s only so much that one can do. It would just have run its course or wait until we made it to land. (I was hopeful it would be the former rather than the latter.)

Although I spend most of the day above deck, it’s a little fuzzy how the day progressed. As far as I can recall, we never attempted to raise the main sail until we rounded Point Conception and motored steadily south along the coast. We did unfurl the jib to motor-sail and increase our boat speed. I also remember taking the screecher to the foredeck and having Kevin help hoist it.

At some point mid-morning, Lawrence cooked pancakes. A large pod of dolphins was sighted in the distance north and to our port side. I was only visible with any clarity though binoculars.

I suppose everyone has his or her own way of passing the time. Angi kept below deck in her bunk and seemed to be sleeping like a teenager. The reality, I believe, is she too was dealing with a little bit of queasiness and felt better staying horizontal rather than vertical.

Mark would intermittently take bearings, recheck his calculations and ensure I was doing fine (I needed to stay hydrated) and napped.

Kevin, a person who had spent a number of years in boats fishing and cruising the coastline, ironically had never spent any time sailing. I overheard Lawrence educating him about sailing terms (sheets, lines, halyards, etc.). Kevin cast a ‘cedar plug’ lure in the (perhaps not too high) hopes of catching something, while we meandered down the central coast.

Lawrence, who embodies boundless energy or is crashing from exhaustion, was ablaze attending to various tasks about the boat. He installed new sheet bags in the cockpit and applied decals of the boat’s name (Bluewater) and port of registration (Santa Cruz) to the rear of the boat. (Having the boat’s name is a Coast Guard requirement and was the last of the “must have before leaving San Diego” tasks.)

It seemed to take longer to get from Morro Bay to Point Conception than Mark had planned. The original plan was to get to this waypoint by noon before any high winds were encountered. We did reach Point Conception around 5:00 in the evening. By the time we arrived, the clouds had lifted allowing the sun to cast a perfect glow on the bluffs. 

The winds had also picked up to the point where with us entering darkness, it was best to reef the sails. (Kevin quoted back to us the adage he had already learned, “if you think it’s time to reef, it’s time to reef.”)

I know I was feeling better, because I was at the helm sipping Ramin noodles Lawrence had made for us … and was able to keep them down.

Night and darkness was approaching. Mark wanted to establish a night watch schedule. He was sensitive about asking me to signup for a shift. I said I was willing but didn’t want to alone. We settled upon Kevin, Angi and me taking the first watch, followed by Mark and finally Lawrence (trooper) taking the wee-morning/daybreak shift.

During our watch, we continued under sail performing a few gybes chasing the wind and avoiding oil platforms along the Santa Barbra channel. When our boat speed dropped below 4 knots, we dropped the main sail, lowered the port engine (Mark’s cabin is right next to the starboard engine) and proceeded to motor sail toward Oxnard.

Highlights during our watch including watching the moon set off Bluewater’s stern and having a half-dozen dolphins swim off the bow. I caught sight of the dolphins and ran up the bow calling back to Kevin to join me. We sat on the trampolines for several minutes before the dolphins veered off port and into the darkness.

Mark relieved us about 11:30. He told me later that a pod of dolphins came and swam next him during his watch too.

I retired to my bunk for some much needed and welcomed sleep. I woke around 5:30 to the sound of the engine cavitating and stronger winds. I went topside to learn Lawrence had unfurled the jib and raised the main sail by himself during the night. Upon seeing me, he asked how I was feeling? My honest answer was I felt pretty good, but just had a splitting headache. Lawrence told me to take the helm, warned of a cornering sea and pointed a heading just south of some flashing green lights off in the distance. When he reappeared, he handed me a bottle of water and threw two ibuprofen into my mouth.

The flashing lights denoted the breakwater protecting the Channel Islands Harbor.

A few minutes later, all crew were awake and on deck. We pointed into the wind and, once again, dropped the main sail before motoring into the south entrance of the harbor. As we entered the harbor, we saw Karl, Angi’s husband, running along the jetty of the harbor. (It’s a longer story, but he was en route to San Diego. Karl would be Angi, Lawrence and possibly my, ride back to the Bay Area.)

We motored into the harbor looking for “I-39”, the slip Liz had reserved for us. We think we sorta spotted it, but there was another boat on (what we thought) was our end-tie. I turned the helm over to Mark who was going to circle back around and look down one of the docks nearby. The port engine quite and wouldn’t stay running whenever he tried putting it into gear.

With only one engine to maneuver Bluewater, we opted for an open dock, which looked like its only recent occupants had been seagulls. Between four people who were skilled with engines, two of us lending moral support and a little time for the engine to cool, Mark restarted the engine and it seemed to behave. He deftly manipulated Bluewater into an open slip back at “I” dock.

Karl was behind schedule getting to San Diego and needed to get Angi and Lawrence loaded so he could get moving. He kindly offered to let me stay with Mark and Kevin, and would “swing” by Oxnard on his way back to the Bay Area and pick me up. (A very generous offer. Thank you Karl.) But it was an offer I didn’t use. After a real breakfast and a hot shower, I decided to “climb back on the horse,” stay with Kevin and Mark, and sail on to Catalina for Leg Four.

The rest of the day was spent spraying/washing down the boat, futzing with the small dingy motor and heading to the fuel dock to replenish the gas cans. We had dinner, watched the Giants win game 7 of the NLCS and bedded down ready for a(nother) 4:00 departure to Isthmus Cove, Catalina Island in the morning. 

(Other pictures from this leg can be found at Leg 3 Morro Bay to Oxnard)