As I pull into the drive the sky is just beginning to lighten up over the Berkeley hills on the eastern side of the bay. It’s early, not even six yet. There’s some flower round here that smells amazing at night, and it’s still going strong. I’ve just got back from dropping Rose off at Oakland airport – she’ll have just taken off. Hopefully with a window seat, so she can see the beginning of a new day over the Sierra Nevada as I watch the same sun rise over the back of Angel Island. Makes me think that it’s been quite a while since I last saw a dawn. We’ve been living indoors for nearly two months, though it feels a lot longer that we left Mexico. A lot has happened. And yet, compared to the next few months, it feels like things haven’t even got going yet. Crazy times ahead.
This time last week we moved to an empty apartment under Ali and Kate’s neighbour’s place, right on the water, and already it feels like home, even though there’s no furniture. We’re getting used to living out of bags, in a different place every few weeks! Now I’m doing the final cleanup, and then off to the airport again. All change. I feel so lucky to have been blessed by the generosity of new, but now very good, friends – staying at their place on the north side of the bay and enjoying time hanging out with Rose. I’m fizzing with a potent cocktail of emotions; a combination of excitement about the adventure ahead and sadness at not seeing my amazing, beautiful wife for a long time. Intrigue – what’s Rose going to discover in Paonia, what am I going to discover in the South Pacific? Both physically and psychologically, we’re starting out on some interesting journeys. Bring it on!
For the next four or five months I’ll be aboard Rafiki, squeezing the most light out of every day; catching almost every dawn and every dusk. And probably being awake half the nights, too, while we’re at sea. Getting up at 3.30 this morning reminded me of the feeling of forcing myself on deck when body and mind are saying “not now, sleep some more!” Night sailing can be the most beautiful time at sea, but I love my sleep…
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I got through check-in without having to pay any extra for my rather overweight bags, and through security without any questions, even with a remarkably bomb-like EPIRB in my hand baggage. Let’s hope getting into Mexico is this easy. I scuffed up my new radio to make it look used, and most other stuff is pre-owned from eBay so hopefully there shouldn’t be any crazy customs fees. Fingers crossed.
How many eggs will three people eat during a month at sea? What if we rip the main sail to shreds in a storm? How much diesel are we going to carry? What do the team back in Bristol need from me to be able to carry on with my projects when I’m gone? Will 2 inch bolts be long enough to through the pad-eye and the deck when I fit the new inner forestay? Is there anything else I need to do for my Federal or State tax returns? Do I need a Visa to get into New Caledonia? Are there any more spares I need to buy for the boat?
My head’s full to bursting in the final lead up to departing for Australia. As for Brightpearl, the promised “two months of intense work” has indeed been just that, ramping up in the last couple of weeks too. Long hours at the computer day after day. A trip to the UK to be in the office there for a while. Coding, thinking, planning, tweaking, testing. I’ve been getting headaches from thinking too hard for too long. Old Mr Brain isn’t used to this!
I’m coming up for air every now and then to make sure I’m on top of everything that’s needed for the trip ahead, making last minute purchases and downloading information off the interweb. My bag is full of shiny stainless steel bits, hi-tech ropes, charts, a storm jib, new EPIRB, couple of extra solar panels, games and a whole load of other gubbins. I hope they don’t sting me for import duty…
I’ve not been able to put as much time into mental preparation as I would have liked, my mind has been kinda preoccupied. I’m sure I’ll switch straight back into the groove as soon as I step out of the plane in Puerto Vallarta though. I’m really looking forward to getting back to a slower pace of life. The beautiful open expanse of days with not much to fill them with. Spending every hour outside, seeing every dawn, every dusk. Reading. Thinking. Meditating. Navigating. Just sailing along, keeping the ship in shape and the crew happy. For thousands and thousands of miles…
Rose is getting ready for her residencies in Colorado and Canada – we leave San Francisco on the same day in just over a week’s time, going our separate ways for a while. Being apart for at least a couple of months is going to be a tough one, but we’re tough and will see it through, journeying our own journeys and being able to share lots of stories on the other side. At the moment we’re staying at a buddy’s place on the north side of the bay – they’re away in Hawaii at the moment and we have the place to ourselves. It’s right on the waterfront with postcard views over Angel Island and the Golden Gate Bridge, we have our own room and a car to borrow. Thanks to their kindness we’ve been spared from going crazy in the small, skanky apartment we had in the city when we first arrived. Here we can just enjoy the space and get down to work without feeling cramped. Thanks guys! Grandma arrives on Sunday and is going to be moving into our room so we’ll need to find somewhere else. Best get those bags packed again for another move. I wonder where we’ll be living next week!
Half my time is spent focussing (or trying to focus) on work, getting as much coding done as possible, liaising with the rest of the team back in Bristol in the early mornings and then bashing away at the keyboard for the rest of the day. The other half is thinking about the upcoming trip to Australia; planning, researching, plotting routes on charts, reading about other peoples’ experiences, running scenarios through my mind. Context-switching between the two is quite a challenge. Sitting down all day is making me all antsy. I’m the only one in the office today due to a protest on the BART (subway), and I’ve been running up and down between the desks to spend some energy.
We’ve been in San Francisco for a week, and I’ve not traveled more than a mile or two away from our apartment and the office. Fortunately I have no real desire to get out and explore, for me a city’s a place I stay in not out of choice but necessity. Noisy, busy, smelly, intense. We’re staying in a tiny 300 sq ft studio with windows that look out onto a blank wall, in the Tenderloin district – not the choicest cut of meat when it comes to SF neighbourhoods. But that’s all we can stretch to with the rent being so ridiculously high, and it’s convenient. I thought that the fridge cycling on and off on Rafiki was noisy, but it’s nothing compared to the aged monster of a machine sat in the corner of our room that rumbles, grumbles and grinds through the night. Last night I shuffled it around a bit to stop the reverberation which I think has improved things a bit.
If we were going to be here longer, I’d be keen to make friends and feel a bit more settled, but only being here for 6 or 7 weeks, with a lot to do, I’m at the computer pretty much all the time. Rose has been out and about catching up with buddies, and getting on with her research and art, leading up to her next Big Leap in Colorado and Canada.
So, much of the same for the next few weeks I suspect.
Now that it’s light, I can clearly see two separate sets of swell; one coming in from the south and another from the northwest. The southerly swell must be coming from a storm out in the pacific somewhere, and the north westerly swell is being driven by the local winds over the last few days. Waves from one swell meet waves from the other, combining to form a nasty steep face and often a spiteful little breaking section of white water. It’s uncomfortable, but there’s fortunately enough wind to hold the boat heeled over which reduces the rolling a bit. Every now and then a larger wave from the southerly swell comes along from the right, lifts the bow and takes it off downwind, the sails lose their power and we go through a few rail-to-rail rolls before coming back on track.
9 hours ago my alarm went off at midnight. I could hear rain on the cabin top, and the wind in the rigging sounded strong. Didn’t want to get up. But we’ve got a 75 mile leg down to San Diego, and I want to arrive before it gets dark tonight. Turning on the instruments and poking my head outside, it turned out that it’s not so bad. Time to go. I cast off the mooring at Long Hook on Catalina Island, and motor into the dark drizzle, unable to see anything apart from the little ship icon on the rain-spattered chart plotter, guiding me out to sea. For the first couple of hours, there’s no wind, and to stop the main sail slamming back and forth and probably doing itself some damage, I get it down. Without any sails up we’re rolling all over. Ugh. At about 3am, the wind kicks in, 20 knots from the northwest. I experiment with the sails to try and reduce the rolling, but nothing really works. The wind is dead astern, so the jib is pretty useless, flapping in the wind shadow behind the main sail. Having just the full main up in a lumpy sea isn’t great for the boat’s balance, but the autohelm is doing amazingly well, steering way better than I ever could, hour after hour. I reefed the main down when the wind rose to about 30 knots, and then just after dawn shook the reef out and unfurled the jib. We’re now cruising along at a decent 6 knots, still rolling but much more comfortably than before. Fewer of those southerly waves coming through. Rose is snoozing below in the sea berth, and San Diego is coming up over the horizon.
We spent a couple of days in Marina Del Ray, Los Angeles – a day working and a day exploring on rented bikes, along Venice Beach to Santa Monica. Almost every dock we’ve stayed at has had a team of sea lion hanging out nearby. Noisy, disgusting, smelly beasts. They bark almost all night, release vile smells, and make a mess everywhere. On the guest docks here, they were only a few yards away, a cacophony of shouting, snoring, burping and wheezing. I’d be happy never to see another sea lion again. Also at the dock was a pretty little green boat we’ve seen a few times since Morro Bay. Clearly a boat going places. On board are a couple of buddies sailing south to Mexico, one then flies to Aspen in Colorado for a winter season, while the other continues sailing around the world. No doubt we’ll bump into each other again further south.
I took the opportunity to rig up the exposure canopy on our dinghy to make sure everything worked, and I knew how to set it up. The inflatable canopy, along with a sea anchor to hold the bow into the waves, turns it into a life support vessel should we ever have to abandon ship. Strong, unsinkable, and easy to deploy. The canopy is now tucked away inside one of the compartments in the dinghy, hopefully I’ll never need to get it out again.
We left the marina yesterday morning and sailed across to Isla Santa Catalina, picked up a local mooring for a few hours, painted our faces for Halloween, watched a movie, and then got a few hours shut-eye before continuing on to San Diego.
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.
Kelp Island
Stunning sunset.
Nature’s evening performance
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.
Dawn approach to Morro Bay
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.
Once inside the breakwater, all is calmWaves pounding at Morro Bay. That’s Morro Rock. The big one.
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…
Leaving Morro Bay in the fog
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!
Under Santa Barbara pierTrying to get back aboard a rolly Rafiki
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.
Approaching Santa Cruz IslandAt anchor in Smugglers Cove
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.
Fish, sunlightPro-looking rope ladder, works a treat too. Yes, I cleared the prop as well.
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.
Dawn Over Anacapa Island
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.
Change of plan. We were due to head down to Morro Bay this morning, a 24-hour trip, but a couple of things have led to us sticking around in Monterey for another day. The forecast is still showing significant swell coming in from a large storm off Alaska, which is due to die off tonight. Large swell like this out in the open ocean isn’t generally a problem, but it might be uncomfortable – especially with the winds forecast at 20-30 knots. The wind is coming from the same direction as the swell, which means it’s not going to be the worst case of wind-against-swell, but that’s still quite a breeze. Also, Rose has received more information by email that lets her get some illustration work done, and with a deadline of the end of the month it makes sense for us to stay here for a day where it’s calm and we have internet.
Here’s what the wave forecast looks like for today (bright green : 4-5 metre swell off the coast of Big Sur, central California):
… and for the same time tomorrow, down to a more reasonable 2-3 metres:
Sitting here in the marina, in the sunshine and calm breeze, it doesn’t feel like there’s much weather out there, but we’re tucked right in the corner of Monterey Bay where it’s more protected. Let’s see what tomorrow brings!
We’re on our way! 150-odd sea miles from Alameda, we’re tucked into a visitor slip in Monterey Harbor. The trip from Tiburon took just under 24 hours. At 8pm on Friday, after dinner at Sam’s Café, Rose, Ali and I sailed out under the Golden Gate Bridge in a nice breeze – which unfortunately dropped off before we’d cleared the shallow area outside the bay, which meant we were motoring into a large choppy sea without the wind to stabilise us. The boat was rolling, pitching and twisting over every wave, which wasn’t comfortable. But soon the wind picked up a bit, and as we got further out into the Pacific, we managed to sail for a few hours. Wind from the south again, like our last trip to Santa Cruz! It’s supposed to come from the north around here … but a cold front is passing through so again we’re close hauled, tacking down the coast. In the early hours of the morning the wind dropped off again, so the engine came back on.
Adios, San Francisco!
Ali and I took casual turns on watch through the night, Rose taking some rest below, not feeling too hot after the early bumpy ride. Our first Pacific dawn was pretty good – the sun very briefly splashing the bottom of the clouds with pink before poking its head up over the land.
Pacific dawnAli snugged up warm after a night at seaSouth, to Mexico!
About mid morning we were motoring along, rolling with the glassy swell, gradually making way towards Santa Cruz. I looked aft and saw a load of disturbed water, almost as though there was a puff of wind catching us up. Dolphins! Hundreds of them, riding the face of a wave, jumping clear of the water and looking very excited to see us. They stayed with us for about half an hour, riding the bow wave and getting a good look at us. At one point they all charged off to the left together, did a big loop around, and approached us again from astern. Magic. Looking in the book later, we think they were the Pacific Common Dolphin. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a large pod.
At lunch time, off Pt Ano Nuevo, the wind picked up from the north – whoopee! We rigged the jib out on the pole to starboard and the main on a preventer to port, and enjoyed classic downwind sailing all the way to Santa Cruz at nearly 7 knots. Hopefully it’ll be like this all the way to Mexico…
We spent the night at the fuel dock in Santa Cruz, and then met Kate and the kids in the morning – they’d driven down from San Francisco for the day. Family time! We headed out into Monterey bay to see if we could find some whales. No luck this time, but we had a great sail in the sunshine and wind.
Dropping off the family back on the dock at Santa Cruz, we made a sharp turn around and dashed south back across the bay towards Monterey – making the most of the sun and wind. The 20-odd miles took us just over 4 hours, starting off as a reach before the wind backed a bit. Close hauled we still made our course, and on the way saw a pod of Risso’s dolphin – huge things that we thought were whales until we checked the handy guide given to us in Monterey Harbor. As the fog closed in around us at sunset, we saw spurts of vapour from another great beast, and then the flukes of a huge tail disappearing below the surface. Whales! Rose thinks they were gray whales. So much wildlife out here.
Just before arriving in Monterey the fog cleared and the wind dropped, leaving us to motor gently into the harbor under a starry sky – about 8pm. It’s noisy and smelly – the pontoons opposite are heaving under the weight of sea lions, barking and shouting. Rose rustled up some pasta and then I crashed out, exhausted.
Today has been a relaxing day around the harbor and town, a bit of work in the morning, stocking up on more snacks from Trader Joe’s, and sorting pictures. We’ve not really made a dent on the snack stock that we got a couple of weeks ago, but something in me says we are going to be needing all the treats we can get for morale and energy over the next few days. Healthy tasty snacks = happy energetic crew! Tomorrow morning we leave at first light for Morro Bay, about 110 miles south.
Alameda to Monterey through Sausalito, Tiburon and Santa Cruz
Almost a year since we moved to the USA, we’re back in Sausalito. We spent last night in Clipper Yacht Harbor, only a couple of slips down from where we spent winter and spring. Familiar territory. It brings our time here in the bay to a good closure, and we’re now ready to move on.
The past month has been heavy on transition – a bridge between travelling in the van and voyaging on the boat. Tonight we head out under the Golden Gate Bridge and make the Big Turn Left, south towards warmth, adventure and a whole bunch of new, exciting experiences!
There have been a number of things to get done to make the boat ready, Rose has been doing some illustration for the BBC, and I’ve squeezed in a short trip to the UK for work. We’ve gone through another cycle of purging possessions to try and thin things down a bit, and I took a few things back with me to leave at mum’s place. Being back in the UK office full time for a week was strange. It felt like I was starting a new job, learning lots of new things – and coupled with the jet lag, it was pretty exhausting. I’m joining the development team for a while, going back into the code. I moved on from this years ago, got used to handing over to a team of engineers, and in some ways picking up the tools again feels like a step backwards. But there’s still a lot of work to be done, and it’s going to be great being able to contribute while also traveling.
Removing the California registration, she’s now a British Ship!Heavy dew in the mornings, and a chill in the air. Time to head south.
Last weekend we came over here to Sausalito to pick up Shane and Amanda for a weekend of sailing, and to make sure everything was working OK on the boat. New dinghy, new outboard engine, spinnaker and chart plotter all needed a shake-down. All systems go! For our tender, we ended up buying a Portland Pudgy, which is a hard plastic boat that, with an inflatable “exposure canopy”, also doubles as our life raft. Unsinkable, unbreakable, and no worries about non-inflation. I’ve heard too many stories about inflatable rafts not opening, or leaking, having spent months baking in their canister on deck. It’s a load heavier than I was expecting, and the original plan of storing it on the foredeck was going to be troublesome, so on the way back from work last week I popped into the local used parts shop to see if they had any davits (crane arms which fix on the stern of the mother ship). They did! So Thursday and Friday were consumed by a last-minute heavy engineering project to get them installed, with monster backing plates, and some custom stainless steel brackets. It’s now easy to drop and hoist the dinghy. And now that we have the extra weight on the stern to balance the chain and anchor on the bow, the boat has almost leveled off.
While anchored off Angel Island on Saturday evening, we performed a naming ceremony for Rafiki. When changing the name of a boat you need to make sure you’ve got Neptune’s approval, and also his sidekicks the four winds. Boreas, ruler of the North Wind, Zephyrus, of the West Wind, Eurus, of the East Wind, and Notus of the South Wind. According to legend, the name of every boat is recorded in the “Ledger of the Deep”, so we first needed to purge it from that with a de-naming procedure – which involved writing the name down on a metal washer in water-soluble ink and throwing it into the sea along with a generous dose of champagne. More champagne thrown into the sea on all points of the compass, a load of weighty god-appeasing words, and we’re all clear. Rafiki is ready to sail the oceans!
Just before we left Alameda for the last time, we stopped in at the pinball machine museum – what an amazing place. They have over 85 machines, from the mid-fifties through to modern times, all free play once you’ve paid your entrance fee. Rose and I were hooked, and spent hours flipping ball bearings around.
This morning we motored the dinghy around the corner to Bayside Café for breakfast with Joe and Brooke, and did some laundry. I need to pop into town to pick up some spare tools, pay a cheque in, get the AIS system working properly, and then we’re off to Tiburon for the afternoon and evening.
We got back from the road trip nearly 3 weeks ago, and I’ve been so busy getting ready for our journey south to Mexico that I’ve not managed to even finish the story…
The last few miles in from Yosemite were familiar territory, but looking so, so dry. Leaving the mountains, we drove past a wildfire that looked like it had recently started – flames by the side of the road, and a few police cars arriving. We pulled into a lay-by a bit further down the road to see what was going on, as a bulldozer on a low-loader thundered past, sirens screaming. They had a spotter plane circling overhead, a helicopter picking up water from the nearby reservoir, and a couple of planes doing circles dropping red fire retardent powder. Checking back on the internet a few days later, it looked like they got this one under control quickly enough.
10,622 miles and 3 months later, we arrived back in Alameda. What an epic trip. The van held together, we adjusted to living in a micro space, didn’t bite each other’s heads off, and we saw an incredible amount of America. People always ask “what was your favourite part?” – I think it was the intensity of newness. New places, new scenery, constant change, different camp spots each night. Not one bit of boredom or dull routine in all the time we were away. The landscapes were stunning. The mountain biking, especially in the last few weeks, was awesome. Adjusting to being away from full time work was wonderful. The sense of freedom to go wherever we wanted, pretty much whenever we wanted, was addictive.
Back in parched California
Each time we filled the tank with fuel I did feel that we were being excessively wasteful, driving around just for the sake of driving around to see places, burning up a whole load of petrol and spewing nasties into the air. I reconciled this with the fact that over the past year we’ve hardly consumed anything in terms of fuel, electricity or waste – living aboard the boat enforces that. And looking into the future, the wind will be our fuel, and the sun via our solar panels will power pretty much everything else.
We’re not sticking around the bay area, we’re going to get moving again. We live on a sailing boat. It’s built to be taken over distant horizons, carrying a crew of excited adventurers, not tied to a dock in a city, getting all dusty and grimy. I’ve always wanted to spend time seeing new lands from the sea, experiencing things that you’d just never experience as a tourist just passing through. But work is also calling… right now I’m on the way to SFO airport, going to spend a week in the UK company HQ with the tech team planning the next few months so I can continue to contribute while being out of the office. Our satellite phone turned up last week and I’m in the process of sorting out an airtime contract, so we should be able to stay in touch wherever we are.
Sold the van!
The van is now delivering beer around the east bay; sold to a chef who’s just started a brewery. It felt strange to see it go, having had so much time in it over the summer. It was a home, a shelter from the sun and the rain, our life support machine, our transport and our one piece of consistency in a constantly changing few months. I sold my road bike. We’ve dropped a few bags of winter clothes, and my snowboard, at a buddy’s place (thanks!). Won’t be needing that in the tropics.
Even though I’ve been working steadily away on boat projects throughout the last year, there’s still been a lot to do. In the last couple of weeks we’ve:
Installed a watermaker to turn seawater into nice clean drinking water. At 3 gallons an hour it’s hardly going to match the flow of Niagara, but it should keep our tanks topped up and allow us to have freshwater showers.
Replaced all the stinky toilet hoses and pump so the boat now smells all fresh. A job that was surprisingly not as nasty as I thought it was going to be. The hardest thing was making sure I had all the right parts before I started, sine we use the heads on a daily basis.
Added an electric macerator pump to empty the holding tank when we’re out at sea. The local consignment store is very handy for picking up things like pumps second hand at good prices.
Spent hours and hours sorting out lockers and belongings down below.
Fitted an AIS unit so that ships and commercial fishing boats can see us on their instruments, and so that we can see them, even if it’s dark, foggy or stormy.
Rewired a bunch of stuff, fitted cabin cooling fans and a couple of new lights.
Made a drink holder for the cockpit so we have somewhere safe to put things when the boat is rolling around.
Replaced the masthead tricolour and anchor lights with LED bulbs to save loads of power.
Fixed the top rudder bearing which was starting to loosen. I hope it’s fixed, anyway – we’ve not had the boat out for a sail yet.
Tightened the steering cables around the rudder quadrant.
Painted the last 5 metres of the anchor chain red so that we can stop the windlass in time and not lose the whole lot overboard.
Had both main sail and jib repaired, with a third reef added to the main for super windy conditions.
Put the name on the stern (ssh don’t tell Neptune, we’ve not had our naming ceremony yet)
Added flag halyards for our Mexico courtesy flag.
Stocked up on boat and engine spares.
Picked up a new outboard engine and ordered a new dinghy. Decided to go with a hard dinghy that converts into a life raft.
Added an extra cockpit winch to haul in the jib furling line in strong winds.
Mounted an extra propane tank to the stern for our BBQ/grill.
… plus a bunch more small stuff.
Just 3 weeks to departure! We’re mentally ready – excited of course, and also a bit apprehensive – we’re going to be learning a huge amount in the next few weeks. We met a couple of Brazilians in the marina next door that are fitting out their boat to sail down to Patagonia where they’ll be climbing – they’ll be sailing down the California and Mexico coast about the same time as us. And there will be loads of other people we meet on the way too.
A couple of days ago, when we still had the rental car, we spent the entire day shopping for food. The Big Provisioning Run. Somehow the boat has managed to soak up hundreds of tins, pasta, rice, sauces, jars and a load of UHT almond milk which we may not be able to get once south of the border. That’s all gone under a screwed-down floor panel in the galley. I’ve been trying to stow everything as far aft as possible; ever since we added the new anchor, windlass and chain, Rafiki has been bow-down by a couple of inches. Not ideal, but not much we can do about that. Just before we go we’ll stock up on fresh food. We’ll be near shops pretty often – it’s not like we’re crossing an ocean – but from here forwards everything we buy will most likely need to be ferried out to the anchored boat by dinghy, so it pays to get the bulky and heavy stuff on board while we’re at dock.
It’s now September 22nd and we’ve been in San Francisco for more than two weeks – and I’ve only just got around to finishing writing up our road trip. I’ve been busy on other things. More about that another time. So here’s a catch-up post.
Monday 1st
Stowaway! In the night, something ran over Rose’s arm and woke her up. A cheeky kangaroo rat had made its way aboard somehow, and was hunting among our packets of food. Throughout the hot night there was a shuffling and scuffling around in the bottom of the van, and by the morning it was gone. We were up early to catch the sun rise over the stunning red landscape, and explore before the sun got too hot. We made a trip across the park to see Elephant Rock which had been on Rose’s “crazy American scenery” list.
Saying goodbye to the desert, we drove the final few miles into Las Vegas, found a motel and crashed out in the cool, air conditioned rooms for the afternoon.
I’d been to Las Vegas before, so I had an idea of what to expect – but last time was for a software conference which was hosted in a fairly exclusive hotel. That time, we stayed in a budget hotel but it was out of town, so I never got to see “the strip”. This time, our motel was only a couple of blocks away. Time to party! Actually we’re not the kind of people that would come here by choice, but as we’re here for J&H to fly out, we thought it would be worth spending a night in town. Las Vegas is definitely a spectacle. Bright neon lights, tacky entertainment, halls filled with gambling machines, hotels, shows, everyone here to let off steam. A complete contrast from the emptiness of the desert!
We wandered around, had a drink at a run-down “Mexican beach bar”, had an amazing dinner at a faux-Parisian street restaurant, blew away our gambling money (all 5 bucks of it) and then made our way back to base.
Tuesday 2nd
Early start for Jon and Helen – flight out was 7am so I took them to the airport a couple of blocks away and then went back to bed. Rose and I spent the rest of the morning hanging out in the motel, sorting photos and enjoying the luxury of air conditioning. Found breakfast at “Farmer Boys” (or something like that), which turned out to be yet another fast food chain, even though I thought I’d searched out an organic, healthy food place. After gobbling down a breakfast burrito, which actually turned out to be not so bad, we went directly onto find a Starbucks for coffee and internet. Normally we’d try to hunt down a nice small independent coffee shop, but I thought the chances of finding something like that in Las Vegas was pretty remote. It was getting pretty hot, so we enjoyed a couple of hours in the air conditioning, reading, writing and not doing very much – just stalling for time so as not to get into Death Valley too early in the day.
Eventually, late afternoon, it was time to get going. It’s not a long drive into Death Valley from Las Vegas, just a few hours through hot, arid desert. We arrived at the visitor centre at Furnace Creek where the temperature was 117F; over 47 centigrade, at 6pm! We made a dash up the valley to catch the sunset, and then found a campground.
Here the seasons are back-to-front. Summer is the quiet period when most things are closed, including half the campgrounds – it’s just too hot. There was one open, just open gravel pitches and a picnic bench. Not even shade, which was surprising considering that we’d had decent [man made] shade in Utah camp sites. Maybe it’s a state thing – we’re now back in California. It didn’t cool down much, I think overnight it just about dipped below 100F.
Wednesday 3rd
Woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, considering I’d spent the night on the picnic table outside, in an attempt to stay in the breeze and keep cool. “Breeze” makes you think of a cool, gentle wind – but here it’s more like standing in front of the door of an open furnace. In fact the campsite is called Furnace Creek… but I think that might be because of the borax mining and processing that used to go on here rather than anything to do with the temperature. Camping in Death Valley in August eh. Nutters. A guy nearby started working with a chainsaw at about 5am – the coolest time of the day.
So anyway, yeah, it’s hot. We drove up to Zabriskie Point to watch the sun rise, and we’re now sitting back in camp in the shade of a tree waiting for the visitor centre to open at 9, where we’ll pick up some info, maybe a cold drink and then dash across the baking desert into the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
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Driving up along the east side of the mountains, things are starting to looks more “Californian”. It’s hard to put my finger on it – it’s arid, like everywhere else. And mountains, sand, dust, long straight roads. I think it’s the trees – big solid looking trees, not pines, but more like a cross between oak and eucalyptus. Drove through Bishop, which is a town I’d known about as a climbing and outdoor hub ever since my days at Sheffield, where I was immersed in the climbing world. A place I’d always wanted to go to, and here we are just driving on through. Just not enough time! Maybe if we spend more time in California in the future… it’s only “just” over the mountains from San Francisco.
Before turning left into Yosemite and over the last range of mountains before home, we stopped off briefly at Mono Lake, an alkali lake with incredible tufa formations. Like every lake it seems, the level is really low. Only recently have local authorities recognised that they need to think about water usage to prevent these lakes from drying up completely.
Just a few miles up from Mono Lake is the Yosemite park boundary. Back in pine and rock country. Huge granite domes and cliffs. We’d never been over this side of the park before – the Tioga Pass has always been closed due to snow each time we’d been, so it was good to finally get to drive through it. Just driving through one of the most amazing National Parks in the world feels like a crime, but we’re nearly home now and having been on the road for 3 months, we can “smell the barn”. Looking forward to getting back to the boat, seeing San Francisco friends again, and having some time in one place.
Road and Ocean 