Monterey to Los Angeles

Last Wednesday we left Monterey harbour reasonably early in the morning, for the 120 mile leg down to Morro Bay.

For most of the day we powered along under double reefed main and poled out jib, under cloudless skies. Dolphin and sea lion playing in our bow wave is now becoming a regular event, but today they didn’t stick around for as long as they have done before. Plenty of huge kelp islands floating around kept us on our toes, I’m not sure how much we’d pick up if we ran straight over one – but some of them look pretty solid. Not much we can do at night of course, but may as well dodge them during the day.

Stunning sunset.

Overnight on one of my watches we were visited by more dolphin, but this time I could only hear them, and see fizzing sparkling shapes of phosphorescence under the water. No moon meant it was fairly dark, so it was just the stars, the boat, dark waves, and a mind blowing sub-sea light show.

The wind kept up through the night, which meant we arrived off the Morro Bay entrance a few hours before dawn. I didn’t fancy trying to find our way in during the night – the entrance is known for swell, rogue waves and currents. So at 0400 I started long tacks back and forth across the bay, waiting for light. For an hour or so before the sun rose, we had a solid 30 knots of wind, which made things a little more tiring. As the light strengthened, we motored into Morro Bay, past the breakwater where large swells where crunching away at the huge boulders. Glad we waited. It would have been OK coming in at night, but finding a place to anchor would have been a bit harder. Once we got the hook down, we both fell deep asleep for a couple of hours.

We dropped the dinghy in, rowed ashore and spent the day exploring Morro Bay and the surrounding beaches.

Next morning we woke to thick fog. The odd light from the town forced its way through the greyness of early dawn to reach us in the middle of the anchorage. The still, misty damp night has left a thick dew on deck, soaking the cockpit cushions we left out. The bay is silent, apart from one or two fishermen leaving port for the day, puttering past in their small boats. We’re not far behind them, pulling up our anchor and motoring out, past Morro Rock, the base of which is now only just visible below the cloud. The waves have died down since we came in, but there’s still some swell coming through. No wind though…

But within an hour or two, the engine is off, the sun is out and we’re sailing again. We’re due to round Point Conception late in the afternoon – the “Cape Horn of California”. It’s got a reputation for being gnarly, with strong winds and lumpy seas, and marks the beginning of the warmer and calmer waters of Southern California. We didn’t quite make as far as the point before dark – at Point Arguello (the point before Conception) I headed below for a couple of hours rest before the night ahead and Rose took command of the ship, sailing along at a decent 5 knots under just the full jib. I fell asleep instantly, and before I knew it, a couple of hours later in the early hours of the morning, we were around the corner and into the Santa Barbara Channel, dodging oil rigs. My turn on watch again, keeping the stars and waves company for the rest of the night.

Dawn over Santa Barbara was stunning – the sky bleeding with over-saturated reds, oranges and pinks.

 

We decided to pull into the marina here so that Rose could get some work done. It’s also pretty tiring doing a night sail, and we’ve tended to find a marina rather than an anchorage after each leg longer than 100 miles. Marinas come with showers and guaranteed flat water, which means no rocking at night. But there’s a price tag, and it’s not so idyllic being parked in among hundreds of other boats. Plenty of time for remote anchorages when we get to Mexico.

We explored Santa Barbara for a couple of days; our first taste of Southern California. Not as brash as I expect LA and San Diego will be – but still with the characteristic palm-lined beach front, surf dudes and yoga mat-toting girls. After a night in the marina and a morning working, we popped out to spend the night at anchor east of the pier. Managed to sneak a quick kayak in before dark. I picked up some rope and PVC pipe from a hardware store in town to make a boarding ladder – realising that with the dinghy on the stern, we can’t get the swim ladder down, and can’t get on and off the boat!

Rolly. Really rolly. Strong winds out in the west end of the Santa Barbara Channel (around Point Conception) were pushing some decent swell through the anchorage, which made for a very uncomfortable night. The boat was rolling so much I had to move into the main cabin in order to lie sideways (athwartships) and be tipped head-up, head-down rather than rolled sideways. It’s a bit more comfortable like that – you don’t need to be constantly working muscles to stay in position, which makes it a bit easier to sleep. In the morning, we made the short 27 mile hop across to Santa Cruz Island, where we spent last night.

Rafiki is sat rocking at anchor in Smugglers Cove on Santa Cruz Island, creaking and squeaking. Every now and then when a larger set of waves rolls through, we rock a bit harder, ropes clank on the inside of the mast and the boom swings back and forth making the spring in the vang squawk like an old trampoline. A few seconds later, I hear the waves hissing on the shore just a few hundred yards away. The sun’s just gone down, and Rose is getting dinner ready. Smells amazing. I’m feeling fresh after a swim in the crystal clear sea, checking our anchor, testing the new underwater camera and just enjoying being in the water. It’s warm enough for just boardies, for half an hour or so anyway – amazing.

We’re getting into the rhythm of things – being on the boat at anchor, making passages, stopping in at marinas and generally moving further southward. This morning just before dawn I hauled up the anchor with the windlass and motored out of the bay into the brightening skies, east towards Los Angeles, while Rose got our morning cuppa sorted. Passing Anacapa Island, the sun rose to join us. It’s amazing how fast it shoots up out of the sea; within seconds the whole disc is well above the horizon and warming everything up.

The 56 miles to Marina Del Ray took us just over 12 hours, half under engine power and half with the spinnaker up. I’m glad I picked that up off eBay – it’s going to save a lot of dreary donk-donk-donk-donk engine running as we head south with light winds behind us. Pretty photogenic, took too many pics…

Arriving at the guest dock, Rose goes forwards to kick the fenders off the side, just like we do every time we come into port. This time the splash was a bit louder than normal. Fender overboard! I spun the boat round and we rescued our lost man without trouble, then docked the boat in a visitors slip. Sea lions on the docks AGAIN. Shouting noisily, making a ruckus. I think we’ll still sleep pretty well.