Road and Ocean

Leaving San Francisco the weather was cloudy, overcast and grey, with not a lot of wind. We’d left Sausalito a little too late, which meant we were fighting the incoming tide as we headed out under the Golden Gate bridge. No big deal though, we have plenty of time. Just outside the bridge we saw our first WHALE! The grey whales are migrating back north again. We’d failed to see any on their journey south during our trips out of the bay last autumn, so it was pretty cool to see one so soon.

As we headed down the coast, the weather didn’t really improve. The wind was from the south, which is not supposed to happen! It never really picked up much, so we ended up doing quite a lot of the trip under power.

We arrived at Santa Cruz around 11 in the morning, about 19 hours from SF. We tied up to the fuel dock in the harbour, where we were going to be staying overnight too. After a shower and freshen-up, it was time to explore. Dodging rain clouds, we found ourselves in the Santa Cruz museum of Natural History, trapped by a particularly vicious downpour. Hey Santa Cruz, you’re supposed to be all sunny and hot and Californian!

The night on the dock was pretty noisy and bumpy- the swell wrapping around the breakwater washing up the harbour channel making the boat jump around on its lines like a beast trying to get loose. We decided to head around into the bay and spend the next night at anchor.

The sun came out, we had a relaxed, warm lunch in the cockpit and then decided to pump up the dinghy and head ashore. The wind had picked up loads, which meant that it was going to be almost impossible to row the few hundred yards to the wharf. Hmmn.

A guy on a motorboat had been motoring around throwing his anchor off the front of his boat periodically, waiting a while, then hauling it up and trying again somewhere else for about half an hour. We weren’t sure if he was practicing or just not getting it quite right. At one point he dropped it just upwind of us and was drifting directly down towards us before (fortunately) deciding he’d not got it quite right and moved on again. He swung past us, Ant and I rowing furiously into the wind, and asked if we wanted a tow to the wharf. Yes please!

We arrived at the landing dock and had to shoo off a load of very vocal sea lions. They are pretty intimidating up close, but with a good shout and lunge they are easy enough to move on. Once we’d broken through the lines of sea lions, we had to break through the lines of tourists… Leaving the dinghy locked up under the watchful eyes of these curious beasts, we headed into town for the night – we’d spotted a live gig that sounded worth a visit, and were keen to see what Santa Cruz nightlife was all about.

A solid meal, a few hours of rock music, some night skate boarding and a short row downwind brought us back to Rafiki to tuck into bed. The wind had dropped, but the Pacific swell was still casually rolling into the bay which meant that the boat was rocking a fair bit. Not as bad as being at the dock, though.

On Monday we rowed the girls to shore so that they could catch a bus back to SF. The weather looked good for the trip back, but we’d decided that it would be better all round for the boys to take the upwind leg while the ladies explored the city and spent a calm, comfortable night in a hostel.

Just some shots from Sunday when we took the boat into the south bay with Mum, David, Mike and Rachel.

We’re sitting peacefully at anchor at Paradise Cove as the sun rises over San Pablo bay. We arrived last night and dropped the hook a few yards off the end of the pier.

The morning high speed ferry powers past, sending a wake to the shore. The waves roll under the boat, making it rock; the cupboards make the click-clunk noise so familiar when out at sea in a swell. The half finished bottle of rum from last night nearly slides off the galley onto the floor- it’s just rescued in time by falling into the sink. A minute later, the waves crash on the beach, and then all is calm again.

A man is taking his morning swim in front of the huge, luxurious beach homes. Rose and I try to decide which is the ugliest house. She tells me about her studio mate back in Sausalito, a lady in her forties who was born and grew up in this area. The two of them were out with our kayaks the other day, Maude saying how when she was a kid, there were no houses here, and how they found old arrow heads in the dirt, wondering whether it was an old Indian settlement. How much things have changed, in not very many years. There’s hardly a spot of spare land on this peninsula now.

The sun has decided that it wants to be the boss again today, and burns away the morning cloud by ten. I’ve only connected one of my solar panels up so far, and it’s starting to do its job, trickling some charge into the batteries. Rose is getting on with her knitting, and I’m just enjoying being out here.

We’re only half an hour away from our dock, but I feel we’re well and truly down the road towards self-sufficiency, a taste of future adventures a long way away from people and civilisation. Yesterday I finished installing the new alternator, which means that, when both solar panels are also connected, we’ll be covering all our electrical power needs without any help from the outside.

Last night’s wind has all but gone, with only a light zephyr blowing from the north. It brings with it the faint sound of trains and ships, making their busy way back and forth across on the other side of the bay in Richmond. Not a hundred yards away on land, the green hills are filled with bird song, and every now and then I catch a snip of conversation between the men fishing on the pier.

All is well.

Mum arrived a couple of days ago with David, and one of the first things we had to do was get the boat out for a sail! We rode the ebb tide under the Golden Gate bridge and out to sea. I’ve stopped taking pictures of “the most photographed bridge in the world”, it feels too familiar now. Though it did make a nice backdrop to our lunch time anchorage, just inside point Bonita.