One More Time...: Eureka to Drakes Bay Passage

The passage was only two and a half days long and already it’s all a blur to me, none-the-less I shall try to recount it as best I can. It’s becoming evident to me that I should start keeping passage notes as I go because I’m getting older and more forgetful, or perhaps because passages we’re always blurry to me and my young self just wasn’t aware of that. Either way I’m going to try to maintain a running log of our future passages because there can be so much richness that it would be a same to lose.

We got up at 5:00 in order to complete the final preparations for departure for points south and secure Malo for passage. There had been a lot of energy building within both Bev and I surrounding the departure. We were both ready to move on and at the same time a bit concerned about the passage. One last check of the running lights and we were ready to go.

The big, unspoken question in our minds was would the new batten cars work. After breaking seven of them on two short and relatively mild passages Malo seems to have developed an unhealthy appetite for them and at sixty bucks a pop, an expensive appetite at that.

We wondered if all our hard work and time that we had put in on the problem, in researching, selecting and modifying the new batten cars, would pay off. The new cars were a better design with wheels rather than feet on the outside to facilitate the vertical movement of the cars. They were longer, thus increasing their inherent stability and web strength. The webs them selves (the middle part of the “I” section of the slide) is much thicker and shorter (closer to the mast), making them stronger and reducing their moment of inertia (means less leverage that the sail loads could impart on them). So far we had spent a total two extra weeks in two different ports addressing this issue. Would these new cars be the answer to our problem or prove to be just more inept offerings to the mast gods? Time, wind and seas would soon answer that question but first we had to get out on the proving grounds and to do that we had to cross the dreaded bar.

It so happened that a good window for crossing the bar and for a 2 to 3 day passage south opened up the day after we finished installing the new batten cars. At 8;00 the following morning, at slack tide, the wind and ocean swells were all supposed to abate, like the result of some kind of celestial alinement that would allow us to continue on our way south.

In order to be at the harbor entrance a little before 8:00 we left the marina at 6:45. It was dark and dead calm when Bev cast of the dock lines, gently pushed Malo away from the dock and then stepped on board. I eased her into reverse and we were on our way.

Eureka is supposed to have one of the most dangerous bars (channel entrances) on the west coast, second only to the Columbia River bar. We had planned for the best possible conditions for our exit but plans and reality are two separate things. We would soon see what the sea was dishing up this morning.

We arrived at the entrance way jetties a little early as planned so we could have enough time to observe conditions and plot our escape. As we rounded the harbor shore that brought us to the twin breakwater jetties that form the entrance channel, we could also see waves breaking over the inner most end of the north jetty. Rut-row! As we turned the corner and looked down the barrel of the beast we saw…surfers, Whisky-Tango-Foxtrot, about a half a dozen of them. The crazy bastards. They’re never a good sign in a boat channel. Who else would get up before sunrise to go play in cold, rough water and these guys were getting some good rides on overhead sized waves that were braking on the north side of the channel. Double rot-row!

We had heard that the south side of the channel was favored by boaters so we went around the surfers in order to get a look at that side of the channel. So far the large breaking waves completely obscured that side. I wasn’t very optimistic at this point but had come this far so we might as well fully check it out. Carefully we proceeded up the left side of the channel and to my surprise and delight I thought that it just might go. I looked over to Bev and she seemed ok, calm, focused and alert. There were large swells ahead, but none were breaking down the southern half of the channel. We continued on past the surfers who were just off our starboard beam. It was thrilling to see them getting nice rides on well formed waves not too far of from the side of our boat. Spooky too. About half way down the channel the swells started getting pretty big, 8’ to 12’ high with short 6 to 7 second periods. Steep! Going up the faces was exciting and sledding down the backs even more so. Cowabunga Malo did fine and I could wash out my skivvys later. It was with great joy and relief that we cleared the bar and proceeded out to sea.

As soon as we cleared the entrance buoy Bev rounded Malo into the wind and we started to raise the main sail with me on the foredeck pulling on the halyard and Bev taking the slack into the cockpit. To my surprise we got the sail almost completely up by hand, which is pretty impressive for a 40’ boat with a 56’ mast. The best ever and my hopes continued to build for these new batten slides. Bev put the halyard on a wench and cranked up the last few inches. Then we rounded off of the wind, rolled out the jib and headed south again, back on the fun-way.

Bev had visited a walk-in clinic in Eureka and scored some Scopolamine patches that she was tying out. That last passage was quite hard on her. Once, at night when I came up on deck to relive her of the watch I could see quite a bit of vomit on the deck to both sides of the helm station. What a trooper but that couldn’t stand. Now she was trying one of the best seasickness remedies out there. But I have to say that there was one good side effect of Bev’s Mal de Mur, that when she felt it coming on, she start to starts to sing, one of the best natural remedies for seasickness. Sailors become quite attuned to sound, particularly the sounds that happen around your boat. One often will hear a problem before it’s ever seen on the water and it is allays better to address those issue sooner than later. Happy sounds are also noted; the gentle lapping of small waves agains the side of the hull, the cry of sea gulls, or the occasional wine of the bilge pump doing it regular duty. All those sounds make a sailor relax, at least a bit. So when I was down below on the off watch, trying to get some much needed rest, hearing Bev’s heart felt songs made me feel warm and relaxed in many ways.

This day the with it’s lumpy 6’ to 9’ seas would soon test her again. The Scopolamine seemed to be working like a charm and Bev found her happy spot at the helm even in some pretty big seas but would it last and would she suffer and of the side affects and I hoped that she might continue her night songs…

Later that night the wind came up quickly to 35 knots and caught us with only one reef in when we really needed two. Poor Bev was on watch when it happened with me blissfully unaware down below, sleeping. When things got out of hand Bev rang the bell to bring me up form below.

When I got up on deck Malo was surfing down big waves at speeds up to 10 kts. Impressive but we had work to do in order to calm our wild horse down. She was also healing way to starboard as she rounded up in the gust and skidded down the faces of waves sideways. It was pitch black and I was half awake when I had do to a slippery-wet-jig up on the foredeck in order to reduce sail. With Bev at the helm and me on deck we finally got Malo back in control, even then she was surfing down good sized waves at 7 to 10 kts but this time it was manageable. The wind slowly settled down over night and by morning we were both relieved to see that all our new batten cars survived the tempest. Another victory for Malo and her crew.

As the morning progressed the wind continued to drop down to a placid 4 to 6 knots. It was hard to settle for 3 to 4 knots of boat speed after last night’s 7 to 10 knots so we decided to tryout our huge new sail, a code 1 gennaker sail.

We dropped the main and jib and ran with just the gennaker for a few hours until the wind picked up enough that we had to douse the gennaker and get back to more traditional sails. While we were were in the middle of that operation, Bev cried out that there were whales off to starboard. Usually when that happens you look out to sea you see some spouts a mile or so off in the distance. We had both been fully occupied with dropping the Code 1 so these whales took us by surprise. They were only abut 200’ from Malo when Bev had spotted them, headed directly for Malo’s side and moving at a good clip, lined up for collision Whisky-Tango-Foxtrot again! We had our big sail only half way down at the moment and we had no choice but to finish taking that down or face other unpleasant consequences. My gaze went back and forth between the sail and the two enormous creatures that were baring down upon us. Fortunately they altered there course at the last minute, passing no more that 10’ off of Malo’s stern. Gasp! Thank god and pass the whisky. I love whales, love the sight of them, the sound of their breathing and the way the sun sparkles off their spouts but I do wish they would keep their distance.

It turned out that those two whales were not alone but were a part of a pod of about a dozen wales. We finished stowing the big genie and commenced whale watching Soon they were all around us feeding. Diving deep. At one point we were in the middle of the pod when they all disappeared at once. Was it something I said? It was eerie to have them so close and then have then all vanish in an instant. Several minutes later they started appearing again, spouting huge plumes of water up in the air taking and then taking in huge cavernous inhales. Air, life giving air and we share it with those amazing creatures who at this point seem more highly evolved than us. These gentle giants of the deep can communicate great distances without telephones, wifi or internet, don’t need clothing, cars or houses, they can “see” in pitch black with their sonar and they can hold their breath for extremely long times. Later, their little cousins, the dolphins, the original party animals, showed up for their own fun and games. And, and, and… then I saw my first puffin beating wings north like it was late for a date or at least a good fish dinner.

Wow, what an amazing day it had been and that’s how we spent our fourth anniversary of our marriage. Bev made Yumm bowls (beans, rice, salsa and a special sauce) for dinner which we enjoyed in the cockpit as the sun set over the ocean.

That evening the wind picked up again but we were ready for it this time with two reefs in the main and the jib already rolled up a bit. The wind speeds built and the swells got bigger as we rounded cape Mendocino and Malo started doing a happy dance all her own. We were surfing down the big ones at 8 to 11 knots for hours. Thrilling to be sure. After four hours of fun I angled her in towards shore to find some predicted, calmer conditions. Still sailing well but at a much more manageable speed and with smaller swells, I spent a few incredible hours gazing at the sky between horizon scans for other ships and checking the chart plotter for AIS indicators of the same.

It was an amazing night. I felt filled to overflowing with joy and awe as I looked up into the heavens. Seeing all the other galaxies in our Milky Way, spread out before me, with the gentle rocking of Malo under me, I could easily imagine myself sailing through the greater universe, which we are, it’s just that seldom have I’ve been so aware of it.

What you gonna do when you feel your lady rollin'
How you gonna feel when you see your lady strollin'
On the deck of the starship
With her head hooked into Andromeda
Jefferson Starship

After a long day and four hours of this incredible night watch I was finally ready to sleep when Bev came on deck to relieve me at 4:30. Soon she would be enjoying the sunrise and the start of a new day.

Later that morning I got up after a very nice sleep. Bev had the boat in good shape and the day was already well started when we had a couple of visitors off the transom. It was a pair of seals what surprised us as we were over 10 miles offshore. They seemed to be a mother and child pair and the young child for some reason seemed to be particularly curious about Malo. He swam right to our transom, sticking his head high above water to look at us. Finally mom had enough of that and tried to turn her youngster away from us, even biting at the youngster’s face but the curious little seal would not be deterred. From our stand position up on our deck, our heads about 8’ to 10’ above the water, we had a great vantage point to view their antics. They are such beautiful swimmers, fast and quite agile too. Sometimes zooming ahead of Malo and then stopping and popping up their heads as they waited for us. This game went on for a good twenty minutes before they took off.

It was iffy whether or not we could make Half Moon Bay, the furtherest south of our three possible destinations, so we decided to play it conservatively and head for door #2, Drakes Bay just north of San Fransisco in order to assure that we would be entering harbor in broad daylight.

This stunningly beautiful harbor sits at the end of Point Reyes and was first visited by a westerner in 1579, Sir Francis Drake during his circumnavigation of the world by sea. Drake was an English sea captain and privateer. He did the second circumnavigation of the world in a single expedition, from 1577 to 1580, and was the first to complete the voyage as alive (poor Magellan never made it home from his).

We anchored in 21’ of depth, tucked well within the bay. It was a bit unusual of an anchor set in that the light 2 knot breeze was blowing against a moderate current of 1 knot. Water usually winds out over wind in any show of force so we went with-the-flow of things and set against the current. We were tired and hungry from all our recent activities, so after the anchor set and Malo was riding nicely we went below to make lunch. Bev had just finished making us a couple of tuna wraps when I felt the boat tug a bit sideways. In the few minutes that we were below the wind had picked up to 15 knots and had over taken the current causing Malo to reverse course and in the process managed to tie the anchor rode in a loop around her keel. Bummer. This was a serious predicament with potentially serious consequences if not remedied quickly.

We had to react quickly because with the wind building and Malo turned broad side to it we were in danger of pulling our anchor. If that happened we couldn’t motor with out risking wrapping up out anchor line in our propeller and we probably wouldn’t be able to sail very well dragging our anchor. Rut-row.

We dared not try to Malo’s to help untangle the anchor line for fear of entanglement either. Yikes! So we launched the dinghy to try to pull her around but by the time we got the dink setup Mr. W was blowing 20 knots and our dink with it’s 10hp motor wasn’t able to bring her through the wind.

Bev suggested that we use the dinghy to put out another anchor which was a brilliant idea and we soon had our second anchor set and was able to transfer Malo’s riding load on to that anchor and released force on the first one. That’s when we discovered a downside of the newer blade shaped keels. They knife to windward quite well but they also appear to hold a line quite well when wrapped.

It’s been many years since I’ve cleared a line from under a boat. I had snorkeling gear and a thin, shorty wetsuit on board but I wasn’t anxious to jump into that chilly 57 degree water but jump I did and lucky I got because I was able to clear the keel in one dive. I was motivated not to drag that process out. I’m please that my old body can still do some things and this is a good place to pause, reflect and express gratitude for my body. It is old and showing many signs of ware but it’s is also responding when called upon whether it’s to haul sails on a pitching deck, lifting the dinghy or diving the anchor line.

When we are on a passage we never get a full night’s sleep or the opportunity to sleep together because we have to take turns driving the boat 24/7. Bev observed that “we were like two ships passing in the night”. One of the joys of coming into harbor was getting a break from all that. As we settled in for the night in this amazing bay, after all the activity, drama and wonder of the recent days we were rewarded with a beautiful sunset, the
gift of a full night’s sleep and finally being able to finally sleep together. And the next morning we were treated to an amazingly beautiful sunrise.