Hello friends and family! We send our love and greetings to you from a coffee shop in Santa Barbara, where the Libertatia is anchored in the mooring field just east of the pier. Our travels of late have been the biggest that we've undertaken in a good long while and have taken us worlds away from our bay-area friends and our home at the end of Z-dock in front of the Berkeley Marine Center. Since sailing out of the gate on the sixth of May, we have sailed several hundred miles down the coast, explored the windswept wildlands of San Miguel Island in the Channel Islands, and made an easy thirty-mile crossing of the Santa Barbara Channel.
The past week has been a wild one: although it was easy to make a plan to leave the bay, actually doing it was a different story. Our time leading up to our departure was extremely full. In terms of boat preparations we had plenty to do but much of the battle was just deciding which of the projects on the big list we could afford to forego while still cruising in good style. The projects we really focused on included installing the reconditioned windlass, amassing supplies for eventual re-rigging, installing a new house battery bank, splicing lines, installing a new compass, and doing an extreme amount of stowing and organizing. During this time we were joined by our friend Alden who came down from Washington to help ready the boat and cruise for a while before entering into architecture school in the fall. We were also joined by our friend James who did an extremely nice job repainting the name on the boat. Thanks you James!
A few weeks prior to leaving, we decided as a group that in order to ease the stress we were all feeling surrounding our departure we would push the date back and take a one-week mandatory vacation from working on the boat. Although part of the reason for taking a break was just to relax before embarking, we mostly filled our time tying up all of our personal loose ends in the bay and spending time with all of our friends. Whether we had the intention of hosting a gathering or not, it seemed that we ended up having a party on the boat most every night (and sometimes every day) leading up to the sixth.
This time for us was on one of the most special times of our travels thus far: taking a step back to delight in all of the great connections that we made while in the bay. Pretty astounding! The stream of well-wishers and friends, old and new, bringing us their love and gifts really made us feel like the richest people in the world. To be surrounded by such wonderful, fun, loving, talented, generous and generally amazing people fills our hearts up with joy.
This blissful feeling was carried up to the very moment we shoved off from our slip and motored out beyond the breakwater, leaving most of our dearest friends waving on the dock. As expected, "the sea level rose a bit in the bay," as we shed tears and we blew kisses and shouted our farewells above the freshening breeze coming in through the golden gate. We were even pursued momentarily by several who jumped in and swam after us as we peeled away.
Soon enough our friends disappeared behind the breakwater and ahead of us lay the wind swept bay and the exit under the bridge to the west. We motored a little longer than normal as we did a bit of final stowage but before too long had sails up and were tacking out past the city. The closer we came to the bridge, the stronger the current became and in no time we found ourselves getting swept out into the Pacific. One final goodbye was had as our dear friend Kacey jumped and waved, gazing down down on us from high in the Marin headlands but before too long we were miles out beyond the gate and night began to fall.
Our passage down the coast ended up taking just under three days. Over the course of the several hundred miles we encountered a range of conditions but largely enjoying quite pleasant sailing. Our first night out we experienced light winds, always a touch frustrating in sizeable seas, but before too long the wind freshened out of the northwest and we zipped away to the south. For the remainder of the trip wind speed varied between 10 and 25 knots, always out of the northwest. Because our destination was nearly dead-downwind we ended up heading up a touch to the south-southwest in order to keep the sails full, increase boat speed and ease the rolling motion of downwind sailing in a seaway. The largest waves we saw on the passage were something like 15 feet but the average wave height diminished to something more like 5-8 feet a the trip progressed and as we approached Pt. Conception.
Everyone did quit well out on the big water: we all had some adjusting to do in gaining our sea legs but after a few days we were all feeling good. Despite the motion and funny sleep patterns, we all felt something of a relief to be out living the much simplified life at sea. The time and vastness also gave us all time to reflect on our departure and really our lives, both individually and as a group. We all felt a considerable amount of doubt and other strong emotions having left our home in Berkeley but despite the difficulty and pain of experiencing these feelings, it was good to have time for thought. Such a seemingly big life moment has really caused all of us to reflect on what we really want to be doing as well as on the things that are important to us. We surely haven't figured anything out completely but we are certainly learning more and more about ourselves.
For the most part, the trip was relatively uneventful, a few incidents aside. We jibed a few times as we made our way south in order to avoid being too close or too far from shore. The furthest we found ourselves from the nearest land was about 60 nautical miles (nm) and the closest, before approaching our destination, was about 15 nm.
Along the way, we saw an assortment of wildlife: albatross, many other seabirds, porpoises, grey whales, etc. but the most interesting was perhaps a hummingbird who hovered in the cockpit, seemingly interested in a hot pink pair of rainpaints, while we were about 50 nm from the closest land. Quite a mystery of nature! Although seemingly minor at the time of the event, the most dramatic and interesting occurrence of the trip was hitting a whale late the first night out of San Francisco. The blow must have been glancing as the feeling aboard was only slightly stronger than getting a large slap by a wave. In the barely moon-lit dark, Lowell caught a glimpse of a whale sounding as we passed and both he an Vincent heard the whale behind as we sailed on into the night. Luckily, the collision seemed to light to cause damage to either the boat or the whale but it was quite an interesting whoa moment. Definitely something to think about.
After a easy rounding of Pt. Conception, we sailed into the Santa Barbara channel and jibed just before daybreak, bound for Cuyler Harbor on
San Miguel Island. We entered heavy fog before reaching the island and navigated in using the chartplotter, watching the cliffs and breakers appear out of the mist. We were unable to start the engine before entering harbor but luckily the lay of the land was such that sailing in was very easy. The wind dropped considerably as we came into the lee of the island and we put up all sail, ghosting in over giant kelp beds, tacking up into the harbor a few times before dropping the hook close to the southern shore. As the fog cleared and filled in again, we were able to catch better glimpses of the beautiful half-moon bay, with highs hills, cliffs and dunes all around and sandy beaches covered with lounging elephant seals.
Although still quite exhausted from the trip, we were excited to explore and Alden, Lowell and I rowed ashore to what seemed to be the only stretch of shore devoid of seals. We climbed high up above the bay to take in the surroundings and were met at the top of the hill to the west with clouds and strong winds reminiscent of the idea of some wind-blasted island in the British Isles. Before long Alden headed back to the boat and Lowell and I walked around the rim of the harbor, through fields of succulents, yarrow, grasses, low-lying legumes. We spotted a building through the fog and made our way up the hill through gulches stands of coriopsis before making the acquaintance of the islands two rangers just outside the building, the island's ranger station. We were greeted warmly by the rangers and learned a lot from them as we walked together back down the hill towards the beach. They peeled off to continue their hike and we made our way back to the shore.
Unfortunately, while we were ashore, the wind had gradually picked up to something like 40 knots. The rest of the crew spotted us from the boat only through the valiant effort and strength of Alden, were able to land a dinghy the beach, well downwind of the boat. Lowell waded and towed the boat up the beach over a quarter of a mile in order to give us some downwind advantage in getting back to the Libertatia. After a short break, we "rowed," mostly sailing under bare poles back to the boat. We made it an early night after that.
The wind held steady and even grew stronger through the night. Although by morning it had abated to 15 kt, the crew was ready to leave immediately upon waking. We quickly prepared ourselves for departure and started cranking up the anchor with the rebuilt windlass that Lowell had worked so hard to make ready for use. Unfortunately, although the wind had slacked off, it had changed direction in such a way that we had several large rocks a few hundred feet to leeward, not leaving much room for maneuvering after breaking out the anchor. Luckily we were able to work together, backing sails and gently tacking to aid the windlass. We finally came free on a tack headed out of the back and hoisted all sails, scooting out of the entrance to the north.
Upon exiting the bay, we decided on Santa Barbara as our destination and set our course, a nice broad reach across the channel. The sail was a hazy dream, very peaceful compared with the winds around San Miguel and we made good time in a gentle, yet steady 15 kt breeze. Eventually the shore appeared to the north and we rounded the point to drop the hook under sail, just before six o'clock.
For more pictures go to our Picasa site
here:
For more specific photo sets got to:
Farewell SF
SF Bay to San Miguel Island
San Miguel Island
