Cetacean sensation

By the end of our stay in Morro Bay we had fallen into a pretty comfortable routine. We were blessed with a short row to shore, as the gracious crew of Diane Susan let us tie up our dinghy on their dock so we didn't have to row to the public dock. Actually, they were more generous than that. After we ran into them again at the grocery store, they let us throw our provisions in the back of their truck so we didn't have to haul it back. And the night before we left, they provided some valuable local insight on the weather and the passage around Point Conception in addition to a tour of their awesome fishing trawler. As always, we were happy to make some friends and the folks in Morro Bay were incredibly warm. We'll certainly miss that place and all the sea otters floating about reminding us that it makes no sense to cut down trees to build tables when we have perfectly good tummies.

We pulled the hook at about 1100 on Thursday February 2^nd and motored out to a decent northerly breeze. The forecast was for 10 to 20 knots with gusts to 25 and an 8 to 11 foot swell at 15 seconds off Point Conception. We hoped to be past the point in the late evening when seas were supposed to dissipate. It went swimmingly. The swell was certainly a bit uncomfortable on that stretch with distinct sets coming from the northwest and the west sometimes combining for a bumpy ride. But we had great wind and made around 8 knots for much of the day.

Pelican friend. Reminds us of pal Zac.

That night, our first in Southern California, the wind died and, unbeknownst to us, our batteries followed suit. I tried to start the engine at about 0200 after we'd only made 2 to 3 knots for a couple hours. But no power meant no engine and we had to wait until the solar panels had a chance to give us some juice the next morning before we could get moving. I'm not sure on the exact numbers, but I think we made about 70 nm over the first twelve hours from Morro Bay and then about 20 nm over the next twelve hours. It was a bit annoying, but that's all.

The second day of the passage brought an easterly breeze and we slowly made our way between San Miguel and Santa Cruz islands. The setting among the Channel Islands is quite beautiful and the wildlife was nothing less than stunning. As I took over watch from Chittick at around 0800 we were accompanied by a large pod of dolphins (probably common bottlenose dolphins- Tursiops truncatus).

Bottlenose probably but I am guessing on the marine mammals...

Swarming sea lions

Then, a swarm of seal lions (Zalophus californianus)- literally dozens of them- were following our boat, breaching repeatedly at the top of the swell and diving into the trough. The commotion reminded me of salmon battling their way upstream to spawn, though I'm not sure what their behavior was about. As the morning went on, more dolphins moseyed on by (this time Risso's dolphins- Grampus griseus- I think) and more seals splashed all around Ardea. A pelican landed and swam next to our boat for a few hundred yards as well, staring at us perhaps used to rejoicing as fish guts were strewn from similar vessels. Still no fish for us though.

A pod of Risso's dolphins near San Miguel, Channel Islands.

Perhaps the most fantastic though slightly nerve-wracking wildlife encounter of the passage came just between the two aforementioned islands. I happened to be steering at the time, which is rare as the windvane does the vast majority of the steering, and Dana was just about to go forward to put a reef in the mainsail. Suddenly, maybe about two boat-lengths in front of us, two humpback whales surfaced and spouted. Normally this would be a majestic experience. One might stare in awe at the girth and grace of these creatures or note the intricate patterns of scars and barnacles that lace their bodies. But for us on this occasion, the initial reaction included an Ahab-like scream of “Whaaaaaale!” combined with a steering maneuver like the Titanic trying to avoid that infamous iceberg. Yeah, maybe it was a bit of an over-reaction. But they were so huge and so close that I threw the wheel all the way to port and rounded the boat up. We spent the next several minutes smacking the side of the boat so they might know we were around and trying to spot them before they re-surfaced. I guess we were loud enough though, as we didn't see that pair again.

I'm fascinated by the similarity that can be found in photos of
landscapes from disparate climates or regions. I imagine I'll end up
with lots like this. I'm pretty sure this is Santa Catalina, though.

The following evening went much as the previous had gone. The wind became light and we tried and failed to start the engine due to low batteries. We made better progress than the prior night though, and the slightly better wind meant fewer sounds of flopping sails and crashing blocks. In the morning we sailed a southwest course with about 15 knots of pressure from the east. As we came upon Santa Catalina Island, the wind dropped and we began to motor toward Newport Beach Harbor. We spotted numerous fascinating jelly fish and a group of ocean sunfish flopping around on the surface near a kelp bed. It was otherwise uneventful on a gorgeous SoCal day until we were only about 7 nm from the harbor and ran out of fuel. The engine took a big gulp of air and we ended up having to bleed the system again, this time while underway. It only took about half an hour this time and we putted into Newport Harbor at about 2030 on Saturday February 4^th after using up another jerry can of diesel.

Ardea sits now at a pretty swanky dock in Newport Harbor where friends were kind enough to let us rest for a few days. We've got some boat work to take care of here, not least of which is figuring out if user error, wiring or declining batteries is the cause of our power failures over the last 2.5 day passage. But mainly we've got some hanging out to do. Rounding Point Conception was a landmark for us geographically, climatically and mentally all the same. We've already had a blast catching up with old friends of the south coast and I imagine we'll hang here for a few more days as the northerly is supposed to build later in the week.

Our next stop is Bahia de Tortugas, about another 2.5 days' sail from Newport. Quite soon we'll be in warm water, hopefully eating fish tacos. Lots of fish tacos.