We left off the last blog with the reality of our first night at sea on a small boat. The break water was the first realization to me of the risks we may be taking. Gary and Chelo left behind two young daughters and we left our three kids, who were between the ages of 6-9, with Liana’s mom. The dangers of this trip started to slowly creep into my mind. But many of the problems we had were never even imagined. You know the saying, “If I knew then what I know now I would never have…” It’s true, today I would never have attempted such an ill prepared voyage. But luckily we were blissfully unaware of the danger and we were young and optimistic. This story does have a good ending and that’s why you get to read it now so many years later.
Our kids with Grandma Diaz
The rolling wave troughs were deep between the breakwaters. All the way out to the entrance buoys we wallowed in big, rolling, steep waves. We passed the entrance buoy with its gong making a deep rumble as it bobbed on each incoming wave. We had Point Loma Lighthouse in the background to guide us out. The sky was crystal clear and the lights of the coastline – magnificent. We could even make out the old wooden roller coaster at Belmont Park on Mission Beach. We had two Steve’s onboard so we called the other Steve “Gallegos.” Gallegos took the first watch at the tiller. He was pulling on sheet lines getting every ounce of speed he could get. The sails filled with wind and we were sailing. (After 20 years we recently met up with him and his wife, Tempra and took them and their two kids sailing. They had moved from San Diego to Raleigh, NC. When we were in New Bern, NC for hurricane season we got to reconnect after all these years and it was just like old times).
By midnight, Liana and I went to try and get some sleep. Around 2:00am I woke to a loud banging sound. Gary and Chelo were on watch and I stuck my head up through the companionway. The radio was blasting to some old rock and roll and the banging sound was from the main sail just flopping in the wind. Well, flopping to the waves to be more exact. The wind was gone. We were in a thick pea soup fog, dead in the water. I went down below to plot our position. I quickly realized we were smack in the middle of the Santa Barbara to San Diego shipping channel and in the fog! Now I was wide awake. I told Gary we better fire up the motor and make tracks out of the channel. I have passed many supertankers in this channel and they could run right over this little fiberglass boat and never realize we were ever here. I volunteered to take the watch and Gary and Chelo headed off to bed.
I motored the rest of the night and did not relax until we were well clear of the channel. Liana slept a couple more hours and came up around 4:00am. She made us some coffee and joined me for one of the most special moments we had ever shared. It was quiet, the fog was lifting, and we were a little chilly so she wrapped up in a blanket and sipped coffee. We were so enjoying this peaceful escape. When the fog lifted we were the only boat on the horizon, just a little sailboat and the two of us, under a blanket of twinkling stars. I just realized what freedom really was. Both of us felt it, this was the place my soul had searched my whole life for. This was the beginning.
A cruise ship appeared as a glow on the horizon. They led the way to Catalina until the sun started to break. In the morning Gallegos took the watch as the seas started to change direction and build to about 4-5 foot waves that were coming from behind us. They started pushing us and slapping at the stern. Gary and Chelo came up blurry eyed as the east end of Catalina Island came into view. This was a rewarding sight for tired eyes. Liana went to dump out the old coffee grounds to make us all fresh, hot coffee. She accidentally lost the “guts” right to Davy Jones locker. She quickly improvised and put coffee grounds in one of her clean socks “she says,” and boiled it in the pot. It made pretty good coffee. Good thing she didn’t use one of mine! Breakfast was the best I ever tasted. Something about very little sleep and the smells of ham and eggs and sock coffee cooking. I think it is somehow similar to cooking food over an open fire in the woods while camping. Yeh, it’s something like that. I can’t explain it but all of my senses were awakened.
By 10:00am we were pulling into Catalina harbor. We radioed the dock master and they assigned us a mooring right in the front row along the seawall. We were tired but feeling like we had climbed Everest and lived to tell about it. This was a great feeling of accomplishment. But as soon as we stepped from the little sailing dingy that we had drug behind us, we all felt our legs turn to jelly. What a strange feeling, we were still rolling with the waves but we were on land. We all had dingy butt and tiller arm. These terms are very familiar to small boat sailors. Tiller arm is the sore muscles in the right (or left) arm and elbow from hand steering a compass course for hours on end without auto pilot. And dingy butt is referring to the wet spot on all of our butts from splashing waves and wet dingy seats, because salt water never actually ever completely dries on anything.
The Island was wonderful and after a few refreshments and a walk through the town we headed back to the boat for dinner. That evening we made steaks on a small charcoal BBQ grill and enjoyed them with seasoned potatoes at the mooring while watching all the lights and sounds of a busy night life. Crowds of intoxicated vacationers were wandering down sidewalks along the seawall and music was coming from the open air restaurants. We strung a little blue tarp over the boom because it was starting to sprinkle and hung a green Coleman lantern at the end. By lantern light Liana and I snuggled under our make shift boom tent. Gary, Gallegos and the two sisters enjoyed a few glasses of wine and we all stayed up late and watched the rain while chatting about life and taking it all in.
On the way home we all nearly died but you’ll have to read the rest of the story in part III.
Looking forward to part three. Since I am tied down with my own commitments, I will be living vicariously through you two.
Thats why we share these stories. For years we “vicariously” lived thru others’ blogs and YouTubes. Someday tho…come visit. Luv ya
Oh boy! We thought the suspense would kill us between part I and II 😜. We’ll be on the edge of our seats until the next installment 😬.