Only in California

June 2013

We made it!

A couple months ago, my good friend Jes, asked if we'd be interested in taking care of her Catalina 30, Ms Teak. The boat at that time was docked in Marina Del Rey. We decided to move her up to Oxnard for a couple months(near Santa Barbara) to explore the Channel Islands and wait for a good weather window to move the boat all the way up the coast to San Francisco. I have always dreamed of sailing around the world and figured having Teak up in the bay would be a great way to get started. I am definitely a beginner to the sailing world, but I figured a long cruise up the California Coast would be fun and the perfect introduction.. and how else would we get the boat up north? Paying a captain was out of the question, costs too much money, I walk dogs for a living. Taking her out of the water and trailering her up the 5 seemed ridiculous... So we quickly started doing what we do best when a new adventure is in the future, Research.  We read books, spent hours upon hours on the internet, and asked around. We quickly learned this was a mistake. " WHY would you sail the boat up?" " You don't know what you are in for." " You will be getting rid of that boat as soon as you make it to San Francisco, IF you make it.." My favorite, " What! Mountain climbing and horse back riding, now Sailing?! Dear girl, cant you ever just keep your two little feet on safe ground?"  I know most of these responses are because everyone was concerned.  Of course, doubt crossed my mind, especially while I was up at 3 AM on the internet reading horror stories of 20 foot waves and the crazy sea around Point Conception.

We decided to attempt the trip at the end of May, taking 10 days to come up the coast. We watched the weather daily in early May and were completely mortified with the high winds and large swells. We crossed our fingers for a break, and watched as our departure date came closer and closer. No Break. Awful weather. It was a no go. Well, we had ten days off from work, so what should we do? Lets climb!

Start of the U notch

We loaded Andy's truck up with gear for rock climbing, mountaineering, Ice climbing, and  backpacking and decided to head to the Eastern Sierras to attempt the Palisade traverse. We drove through Yosemite on the way and stopped to rock climb for a few hours. We also stopped at Mule Days in Bishop, so that I could reminisce some childhood memories. That night, we had our backpacks packed and hiked under the full moon as we headed to the Palisades. The following day, we awoke at 3 am and headed to the base of the U notch, ready to do some ice climbing! Well Andy was ready. I awoke to a throbbing headache and felt pretty darn nauseous. Sleeping at 13,000 feet. Altitude sickness. The closer we got to the notch, the worst I felt... And bam, projectile vomit. I will never eat oatmeal and freeze dried bananas ever again. Ugh. This was not a good way to start an extremely long day of climbing. We continued on and I did feel better as we roped up to start  climbing the U-notch. Andy lead climbed all the ice and kicked ass, as I danced at the belay stations to keep warm. We reached the top of the notch, and switched over to rock shoes to climb the last two pitches. I lead climbed the last two pitches. Victory. North Palisade. 14,249 feet.

Andy leading the final Ice pitch

On our way back down to the town of Lone pine, we made a detour to check out the Ancient Bristlecone trees in the White mountains. We drove up the long winding road, and watched as the vegetation became more and more sparse, the trees became more stunted and gnarled. The Ancient Bristlecones are the oldest trees in the world, over 4000 years. Very fascinating and I highly recommend a trip to see them.

Ancient Bristlecone

Guess what the weather looks like now for the California coast? Weather window! We checked it out online once we got internet and decided to head to Oxnard the following day. But of course, we encountered some insane 45 mph winds in the Mojave desert and had to drive through a sand storm. The freeway was completely blocked by the police, and thanks to GPS, we found a side road to bypass all the road closure signs. Visibility was zero. Driving through the sand storm was an adventure.

Ms Teak!
Engine wont start.

We arrive all giddy to Oxnard, only to be completely brought down to the ground. She wont start. We spend the next 6 hours going through her every part. Seems to be a fuel issue, so we check the filters again. Bleed the lines. Find a loose connection to the fuel pump, tighten. Bleed again. She starts. We feel a moment of victory, but that quickly vanishes as we realize we have lost trust in the Engine. It would not be smart to start the long voyage unless we have a properly working engine. What if there was a deeper issue? We also weren't really sure what was wrong in the first place. Again, we are not experienced when it comes to boat engines. Luckily, Andy found a local mechanic that specialized in Universal Diesel engines. He spent an hour with us. Going through everything, fixing minor issues, teaching us along the way, but for the most part... gave us a big thumbs up. Engine was in great condition.

Shoot, I guess this is really happening.

Dingy up to Santa Barbara pier

Took one last look at the weather prediction, took an additional three days off of work and began our voyage! Our first stop was Santa Barbara, 30 miles. We dropped hook, soaked some sun, drank some tequila, and dingyd to the dock to meet Dad and Stacy for dinner ( they live nearby.) We ate some delicious Cajun food and sipped spicy cocktails.

Cojo Anchorage. Boat bodies!

Cojo Anchorage

Next Day, we headed to Cojo Anchorage. The last point before you head up and around Point Conception. Eeek. Was the weather prediction going to be right? Were all those horror stories true? 20 foot waves? We arrived to a peaceful, calm bay surrounded by kelp beds, three other boats anchored. As we neared the anchorage, I was mortified to find bodies of boats washed up on the beach. Boat skeletons. Abandoned. We went to bed early, preparing to wake at 2 am for departure around point conception.  At Midnight, we were thrown up and out of bed as the bow of our boat rose over swells. 20 mph winds from the south, helped us drag anchor and scare us for a few moments. The anchor reset. This was not a convincing time to leave the supposedly safe anchorage and head around Point conception. We awoke every hour and observed the conditions. At 4 am, the sea seemed calm, the winds had died down, and we noticed one of the other boats at Cojo was slowly leaving the anchorage. It was time to go.

I drove the boat as Andy pulled up the Anchor and guided us through complete darkness with his headlamp. We wore our foul weather gear, life-jackets, and were strapped to the jack lines. The GPS gave us the coordinates as we blindly (practically) headed around the point. The boat slowly rose over swells that appeared from the darkness. The sun slowly came up and lit the grey sky. Andy and I sat in anticipation as we headed further up north. We had headwinds of about 10-12 knts and the swells slowly got larger and larger. It became a game of finding the best route to ride up the giant swell and coast down the back side. Huge walls of dark grey, 12 feet, repeatedly rolled at us, and every time Ms Teak chugged along at a whopping speed of 4 mph! My shoulders were up to my ears from stress and anticipation... Andy kept trying to make small talk, I stared back with a look of " not in the mood to talk now.." We felt better at times when another boat appeared. But we were quickly left alone as the multi million dollar yachts cruised past us, leaving us alone once again. Go little Ms Teak, go! 12 hours later, we arrived in Avila. Rocking and rolling, exhausted. We did it! The scary part was over and it wasn't that bad.

The next day we decided to go non-stop for 24 hours. We realized that if we wanted to make it to San Francisco by Wednesday, we needed to go. The wind and swells were non existent and we chugged along at 6 mph headed for Monterey Bay. We were again, completely alone. No other sailboats in view. A phenomenal sunset of oranges and pinks melted into the ocean, and our eyes slowly adjusted to the nights darkness. Once again we went ahead blindly, relying on our GPS. Andy and I took turns at the helm every two hours, as the other slept down below. This was my favorite part of the trip. I sat there watching the stars reflect into the ocean, shooting stars darting across the sky. The ocean was completely black, like oil, except for where the boat stirred up the phosphorescence. Neon green danced and curled in Teaks wake, and a long line of green trailed the back of the boat as her propeller stirred it up. I sat there, realizing I could just slip off the boat at that moment, and never be found. It was just me and Teak as we moved along. Andy of course, woke up shortly after my morbid thought, having a terrible thought of me falling off the boat. He did not take his full two hour nap.

Firefighter to Ms Teaks rescue! Yes, Im embarrassed to say, we hit a crab pot line. We were cruising along Ano Nuevo, admiring the views of the light house and beaming from the excitement of being only a day away from San Francisco. Bam, terrible noise, high pitched buzzing, engine dies, quiet. Andy and I look at each other. What did we hit? I had seriously just stood up and scanned the water for obstructions, 30 seconds ago. A white crab pot buoy bounces near Teaks stern.  We hit a crab pot... The line had wrapped itself around the propeller and we were stuck. We weren't far offshore, so we had to act fast. We lowered the dingy, and tried to pull the line free. Wouldn't budge. Andy grabbed a mask and knife, and then realized we had forgotten to pack the wetsuits..... I lowered my foot in the water and quickly pulled it out as it practically froze off. We looked into the water and noticed we were surrounded by Stinging Nettles (Jellyfish.) No wet suit, cold murky water, famous Great White shark territory, jellyfish, and the fear of drifting onto shore... Andy paced back and forth as he pumped himself up for the dive. "I'll dive under the boat if you dont think you can do it...?" " Ha! The guys at the firehouse would never get over me letting you diving under the boat instead of  me." Andy held the knife between his teeth as he dove off the side of theboat, and 30 seconds later came up

Monterey to Half Moon Bay. We arrived at Pillar Point Harbor in Half Moon Bay just before darkness. We pulled into the harbor along with all the hard working fishing boats. Their insanely bright spotlights led the way and we found a nice spot to drop hook. We dingyd ashore and stepped off the boat for the first time in five days. We laughed non stop as we tried to walk a straight line to the Harbor bar to meet up with my friend Kelly who would be joining us for the final leg of the trip.  A whiskey coke made me feel better.

Kelly joined us the last leg of the trip.

Last leg. This was the moment I had been planning for the past few months. The moment of seeing the Golden Gate Bridge. Seeing Home. Sailing under the bridge and into the beautiful bay. Looking to the right at Baker Beach, where I work everyday. Looking to the left and seeing Slacker Ridge, my favorite spot to ride Kasanova to. Dolphins played around Teak as we sailed beneath the Bridge. Unreal. The winds steadily increased as we headed further into the bay towards Sausalito. We were finally sailing in some real wind! We soon received a wonderful welcome home gift from the bay (A giant slap in the face), as huge gusts forced us to reef our sails at Hurricane Gulch.. duh.

Ms Teaks new home is in Sausalito, at Richardsons Bay Marina. The last harbor in the bay. Views of Mount Tamalpais and views of the seaplanes as they take off and land. Fog rolls over the headlands and swallows up the bay, twisting and turning, blanketing everyone. Time to learn how to sail!