December 1, 2011

Carol came up to meet me at Morro Bay for Thanksgiving while I waited for a weather window that would allow me to round Point Conception.  Soon after she arrived, I took advantage of her car by driving to the nearest RV/Marine supply store to pick up a replacement for the light fixture in the head that had failed.  (It was the only equipment failure I had on the trip.)  It took less than an hour to wire and install it.  Later, we were invited to join Perry and Lynn of Bobby McGee, the Hunter 46 I saw sailing south off Big Sur and anchored in San Simeon Cove, for wine and hors d oeuvres as soon as Carol arrived.  In their working lives Perry had been a lawyer and Lynne an electrical engineer, so we had an interesting and pleasant conversation.  After “freshening up,” Carol and I headed over to Windows on the Water, a nearby restaurant recommended by Roger, for an elegant and delicious traditional Thanksgiving dinner.  (Roger is the fellow who bought my previous boat, now moored across from the MBYC.  He and his wife Vicky have lived in Morro Bay for 30 years, so they know the best eateries.)  Carol wanted to go wine tasting on Friday, so after a leisurely breakfast and perusing a map with descriptions of the many nearby wineries, off we went.  The difficulty was selecting a few from the dozens of possibilities, but we each found a couple that sounded interesting.  Most were winners.  Bella Luna had some excellent Italian style reds, and I even got a free bottle for helping one of the vintners get his alcohol wine heater working.  All of Brian Benson’s big red wines were awesome.  Most of his wines are aged 34 months in oak.  Risky, but makes for a rich wine.  It turns out he is a local prodigy that has become a kind of cult figure among aficionados.  I sought out his winery only because it was described as a one-man show, and I like small wineries.  I got lucky.  His wine isn’t cheap, but it’s worth the price.  If you’d like to try some, he ships and you can order from his web site:  www.brianbensoncellars.com . 

Late Friday afternoon was happy hour at Morro Bay Yacht Club, so we joined in the festivities to meet some more folks and perhaps have some hors d oeuvres.  We certainly didn’t need any more alcohol after wine tasting all afternoon.  We drank plain cokes, and enjoyed free pizza, salads and cake.  Soon after walking in, a gentleman with a bit of an English accent came up to us and introduced himself, asking if I was the owner the Salar 40 at the guest dock.  Well, almost no one recognizes a Salar 40, but if anyone would, it would be an Englishman.  Barry Ruff was not only an Englishman, but had sailed a Salar 40, and done three singlehanded transpacs and one crewed transpac in a Wiley 40 that he built from a hull and deck.   This man would definitely be interesting to talk to, so when he suggested that Carol and I join him and his mate Connie at a table, we gladly accepted.  Barry was not only interesting to talk to, but a nice, unassuming guy.  He and Connie were stranded in Morro Bay on their way from Canada to Mexico when their boat’s transmission failed.  They would be waiting at least a couple of weeks for parts.

Meanwhile, I had heard from my friend Jim, and he and his wife Cathy were going to be heading back to Sacramento from Los Angeles on Saturday and would like to stop by and visit.  I suggested we go to lunch when they got here.  I also invited Roger and Vicky and Barry and Connie to join us if they wished.  Roger took us to another great local spot.  The wait was long because the place was jammed, but everyone had a great time talking and getting to know one another.  When it came out that both Jim and Roger owned boats that they had bought from me, there were a lot of good-natured jokes about the annual meetings of George’s old boat owners.  At least they weren’t planning a necktie party, as they used to say in the old western movies.

As the afternoon waned, it was time for Carol and Jim and Cathy to start their drives home, and I needed to get the boat ready for a passage to Port San Luis Sunday morning.  It looked like I was going to get the weather break I needed, with light variable winds forecast for the next couple of days.

I cast off Sunday morning at 0855 to clear the guest dock for the Sunday races.  It was about an hour earlier than peak high tide, but close enough to leave the harbor safely, especially under the prevailing mild conditions.  By 1030 I was rounding Pt. Buchon, and was dropping the hook in Port San Luis at 1240.  It was a warm, mild and sunny day.  I took advantage of the time and fair weather to bbq some chicken for dinner and for lunch the next day when I expected to make the big run around Pt. Conception.

I was up at 0530 Sunday morning to check the Point Arguello buoy report and get an early start.  I was surprised and disappointed to hear that it was blowing 26 knots.  I don’t attempt Pt. Conception in that much wind…even heading south (downwind).  Last time I made this run I saw a group of Canadian sailors try it and they ended up limping back into Pt. San Luis beaten and exhausted ten hours later.  I had decided to wait and spent a warm, calm, sunny day in Pt. San Luis.  Nonetheless, I hoisted the anchor and left at 0630, figuring I might spend a night in the cove at Point Sal if I couldn’t make Conception.  I could always come all the way back to Port San Luis.  Well, I got lucky.  By 1000 the Pt. Arguello wind was down to 20 knots, and by the time I got there at noon it was down to 17 knots.  The seas were still the nasty cross-chop that is typical of Pt. Conception, but they were small enough that the only challenge was avoiding broaching.  Even with the genoa out, both I and the autopilot had trouble steering.  Still, it was a relatively easy rounding, and by 1445, I was dropping the hook in Cojo.

I was tired from the last several hours of total concentration and wheel-wrestling, so after unwinding with some decaf laced with spiced rum (delicious, by the way) and a quick snack, I hit the sack.  I slept like a log despite the rolling.  By 0740 the next morning I had hoisted the anchor and was headed for Santa Barbara.  At this point I was like a horse headed back to the barn.  It was a warm, sunny, windless day, so I motored the whole way.  It’s amazing how much mellower it is south of Point Conception.  By 1439 I was dropping the hook off Santa Barbara in a narrow strip of “no-man’s-land” between the area reserved for permitted moorings and the anchorage area that is closed for the winter on October 31^st.  I had hoped no one would notice me, since I blended in with the moored boats.  But I rehearsed my defense, just in case.  The only visitor I had was a friendly guy who stopped by in his dinghy to see if I needed any help finding anything in town.

I left Santa Barbara at 0700 to make sure I made it into Ventura before a “major wind event,” forecast to start Wednesday night, arrived.  Two lows were coming together that could result in easterly winds gusting 60 to 80 mph through canyons.  Like Woody Allen said of death, I didn’t want to be there when it happens.  The passage was another easy, warm and windless one.  Memories came flooding back as I cruised along a familiar shoreline.  It was just as pretty as I remembered.  My last remaining challenge was finding and getting into my new slip.  Wouldn’t you know that the last 50 feet of a 500 mile journey would be the toughest.  The fairway in my new marina was very narrow, as was the slip.  While the Salar 40 is tough, rugged and seaworthy, they don’t spin on a dime like a fin-keeled boat.  The only way I was able to make it into the slip was with the help of a couple of folks on the dock who had seen me struggling.  But I made it.  I was home.