Cruising

Our trip so far has been lived under a slight but constant disappointment. We have eagerly been anticipating something that felt southish. This feeling isn’t just about temperature, nor is it about turquoise water. There is a certain something that makes a locale feel southish, and we just hadn’t gotten there yet… until today. Today we arrived in Bahia de Santa Maria. This subtropical harbor is located at latitude 24 46’. It’s 80 in the cabin and the water is 77. When we arrived and checked that statistic we all simultaneously decided to go for a swim. Mine was particularly satisfying after a night in full foul weather gear and a day sweating at winches and halyards. While I was in I decided to dive the keel and was pleased to find that I a) could do it, and b) that my little grounding in Morro bay hadn’t caused any real damage (just a little paint scratch). ...

I forgot to mention the amazing things we have seen so far. On our way across the Mexican border we were greeted by the largest pod of dolphins I have ever heard of. There must have been 100 of them, all leaping and playing around the HaHa boats. It seemed as though they must have organized a rally of their own, as if to prove that the ocean was still theirs. ...

The Baja HaHa is officially underway and so, once again, are we. It felt so good to leave the dock at Cabrillio Isle Marina. The marina was fine and San Diego’s services were welcomed, but I seem to have a deeply ingrained need to sail and every day at the dock was chafing against that directive. Now we are South of the border (30°44.41’N 116°36.75’W) sailing at 7 knots with the wind behind us. The sun is out and it’s finally feeling like “south.” The kids, as always with passages, have settled into their routines and have been mostly joyful. They are looking forward to catching fish and reaching the beach party in Bahia de Tortugas. If conditions maintain we should be there in about 30 hours. ...

They say no man is an island and as we embark on this adventure—replete with our water maker, mini solar farm, new high tech rigging, etc—I feel it is appropriate to acknowledge and give thanks to all the people who helped us get here. As a knowledge worker, my ability to fund this trip came from an excellent education. The formal education I received was one of the best in the world, but my parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents all contributed to developing my intense curiosity, troubleshooting skills, and general competencies. Without these skills, and the reassurance that I could do anything that I set my mind to, I would never have been able to contemplate such an outrageous undertaking. ...

In lieu of a real post I present this photo montage of our last 3 days.

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.

They came—finally—on the approach to the Bay Bridge. The saline evidence of a soul deep sadness that I have suppressed and longed for all week. This has been a week of goodbyes. A week of goodbyes, following another week of goodbyes on the East Coast. As my colleague and compadre of 12 years bade me an emotional goodbye on Friday, I felt my tears well up and then, mysteriously, they were squelched. I felt robbed. This week has been filled with replayings of that vignette; with a friend I’ve known almost as long as I’ve lived in California, to those who’s child I’ve seen birthed. Each time the tragedy of having to move away from these relationships that we have nurtured in order to pursue a life long dream, filled me to bursting. And yet, tears eluded me. ...

Ten years ago, with just my passport and a carry on, I hopped on a plane from San Francisco to St. Thomas, USVI. Tucker had arranged a flight and a ten day bareboat charter in the Caribbean. What an amazing way to spend my 25th birthday! We sailed out of Red Hook Bay, St. Thomas over to St. John, Jost Van Dyke, Tortola, Virgin Gorda, back to St. John, and returned to St. Thomas at the end of our ten days. ...

I’ve found, time and again, that no plan is the best plan. This weekend was a perfect proof of that theory. On Friday night we still didn’t know where we were going. Would we go back to our old tried and true anchorage (Horseshoe Cove) or brave the sail-in-sail-out anchorage at Aquatic Park? Would we prioritize getting a good view of the fireworks, shoreside activities, or visiting with friends? As it turns out, we managed all three. ...

I love my Aeropress. If I could work two at once I would buy a second one. It makes great coffee, and it cleans up easily (read: less water). Consequentially, I had already elected to bring it along on our trip as our primary brewing device. I had resigned myself to it’s one shortcoming, the consumable filters, and had decided to get dozens of packs (300 filters/pack) as soon as I used up my first one. ...

The Garhauer Rigid Boom Vang arrived today. This is the first major system install since the windlass and it marks the beginning of a series of complex installs that will last until we shove off. I didn’t really think it would be all that difficult when I ordered it at the boat show. “Just drill a few holes, tap them, and bolt it on,” I thought. But when I started lining it up I realized I would need to dust off some of that trig that I had forgotten 15+ years ago. A few well written blog posts later I’m feeling much better about the install. I’ll try round two tomorrow (and document it if you’re lucky). ...

For the last week or so I’ve been in a terminal velocity free fall of stress. Yes it’s cruising related but probably not what you would think. The stress derives from the notion that I don’t want to own anything (after we drop the dock lines) that we can’t fit in the ManVan or on our boat. I don’t want a storage unit, or a bunch of stuff squirreled away in friends/family’s houses and I don’t want to save anything that I don’t love and expect to dream about regularly while we’re cruising. In fact I want the few possessions that we hold on to to be so significant that I actually consider swallowing the hook in order to be able to use them again. I don’t want to hold on to any sh…tuff. ...

“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. ...

Just got the email, the contest is closed! First, thank you so much to everyone that helped Team Convivia to reach the Top 10. It was so amazing to see our tribe come together in support of our dream like this. Truthfully, that was worth more than the re-rig. But since we’re in the top 10, I don’t have to choose. So without further ado here is the final scores for the Top 40 contestants (numbers may change slightly if they still allow activations). ...

Warning: the following treatise is a rather dry and detailed accounting of Convivia’s specs and equipment. If you’re not interested in this type of thing, may I suggest one of the following: Why I love boat life, But Planes are Faster, or maybe even hellO 2011. Convivia is a 1970 CAL 43, hull number two. The hull is round bilged, has a raked stem with anchor roller, an internal lead ballast fin keel, a spade rudder, and a transom stern with swim ladder. There are (natural) teak toerails, stainless steel bow and stern rails, and double coated lifelines. The deck layout is a typical cabin trunk with an aft cockpit. There is a forward skylight hatch, and opening companionway hatch over the galley, and a primary companionway hatch on the starboard side of the cockpit. There are two windows and four ports on each side. The cockpit has coaming seat backs and tiller steering. ...