Anchor

We did it! I can’t describe the ellation I feel right now as we bob around at anchor in Horseshoe Cove. We set the anchor around 4pm. With the sails already tended to, the only thing to do was flip up the solar panels and tidy up the lines. Then we all retreated to the cabin for coffee and UNO. We expect to get an early start to Half Moon Bay tomorrow, and then (weather permitting) continue on to Monterrey Bay on Sunday. Our original plan to go to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass this weekend was scrapped in favor of making some southbound miles before bad weather fills in early next week.

Years ago I stenciled a sailboat and an anchor onto shirts for Ruby and Olive. I wanted to make updated shirts for them one day so I ended up moving onto the boat with a stamp carving kit and some fabric paint. I planned to carve an anchor onto my stamp so that I could print onto fabric and notecards over and over again. A sailor friend of mine was expecting a little girl and so the inspiration and count down began. ...

Convivia and crew spent the long weekend spinning around our anchor (very slowly) in Horseshoe Cove (a.k.a Sausalito’s Presidio, a.k.a Fort Baker). The anchorage was every bit as enjoyable as our last visit, and more so since they removed the flotsam collection from the mooring ball. When we arrived (around 1400 on Saturday) there were two other boats on anchor. Both the ~35’ trimaran and the ~48’ trawler had a lot less draft, and were closer into shore than I would have been comfortable with. The upshot was that Convivia dropped anchor almost exactly where she did last time (if the GPS waypoint can be trusted). We didn’t get off the boat at all on Saturday. Once we had settled the boat, covered the sails, and tidied up, we settled in for afternoon coffee (and lemonade). A few hours later (and in the pouring down rain) I turned on the grill for some awesome BBQ chicken. The kids fell to sleep quickly and early and Vick and made tea and read until the damp cold drove us into our berth. ...

“Olive, what was your favorite part of today?” “Anchoring out. Don’t you think it’s everyone’s favorite part? I bet everyone in the world loves anchoring out.” We almost didn’t anchor here. The Cruising Guide to San Francisco Bay, had more caveats than usual for this anchorage— Don’t even attempt if it’s foggy; you might get sucked right out the gate as you approach; the Coast Guard won’t take nicely to your presence on their side of the anchorage; etc.. After calling ahead (another recommendation from the guide) we were told that we were more than welcome to anchor, but there was a lot of surge, a few other people had called that day, and there was a pile of flotsam tied to a mooring out in the middle of the harbor that they were worried might work itself loose. But sure, come on down. ...

Sunday morning in Paradise Cove is glorious. The wind and swell from the previous night is gone and even the feeble dawn sun is enough to warm us in our PJs as we lounge in the cockpit. Ruby, Olive, and I eat breakfast and let Vick sleep. The kids dress and ask if they could go in the dingy for a while. Ruby rows (tethered) back and forth to Convivia’s transom while I observe from the cockpit. Within a few minutes she asks to go freely. I hop aboard and let Ruby row me around the anchorage. She rowes Olive and I to shore and we spend a half hour playing on the beach, finding ladybugs, searching for the best sea glass, skipping stones and destroying sandcastles. ...

We’re on our new anchor for the first time. When we started telling everyone that we were leaving this year for our cruise the sailors around us came out of the woodwork with offers of help to make things happen. Over the past few weeks we’ve purchased and installed our Rocna 33, our Lewmar V3 Windlass, and 300 feet of G40 HT 5/16" chain. We bought our anchor used, as a return to the store, for about a third of the retail price. The windlass and chain were also purchased at excellent prices. Still, for the cost of all of this ground tackle we could have stayed in a marina for a long long time. But staying in a marina is not our plan. ...

I wasn’t at home when we were tied into slip A58 in Monterey Harbor. I was homesick. Surprising yes, since I was on my own boat, tied up with my usual dock lines, cooking in my own galley, and sleeping in my own bed. I spent my time in Monterey constantly checking the three forecast areas on NOAA to find our perfect weather window to head north. Again, I was surprised at myself. The trip north is usually hard, wet, and cold. Our boat is in great shape and we could actually (foolishly) cash in Tucker’s retirement accounts and head south for at least a year. I always want to go south, or anywhere warmer than wherever I am. But I wanted to go north, to go home. ...