My friend Darian had wanted to get some more sailing experience, and, since we're both (f)unemployed this summer, it seemed like the right time to make it happen. I also wanted to get Koan moved to the SB anchorage and to a willing buyer there, so Plan A was to sail South on Koan, with or without stops in Morro Bay and Cojo, as weather permitted.
Monday, the day of Darian's arrival in Monterey Bay started inauspiciously, with me dropping my keychain overboard in the slip as I was getting off the boat in the morning. Total newbie move! I borrowed a magnet from the harbor, but it seems there was nothing ferrous on my keychain, and called three divers to line up one to look for the keys. Then I remembered that whenever I bottom fish, my treble hook snags on crap, and that I quite enjoy trying to guess at what's on the ocean bottom through the feel transmitted through the fishing line. So I walked to the nearby fishing gear store and bought line and a bottom lure with a big treble hook, as similar to greenie, my lucky lure, as possible. I then went back to the slip and started gently dragging the bottom, around the area where I'd dropped the keys. Sure enough, twenty drags in: bingo!
Now the plan was back on track. I picked up Darian in Salinas, we grabbed burritos near the Amtrak station, and headed back to the boat. Long term weather didn't look good for our plans, with the forecast for Conception on Thursday looking especially windy. But the fog was clearing in Moss Landing, and I had intel from Brian @ MBARI that humpbacks were about. So we took Koan out for a daysail -- probably the first time Koan had left the harbor since the beginning of the pandemic, now with new running rigging and antifouling! We were treated to the most incredible few hours of sailing among four or so humpbacks, who were feeding in the underwater canyon near the mouth of the harbor. There was a lot of tail slapping and lunge feeding, with the forage fish boiling out of the ocean ahead of the whales, as you would expect. But the real treat was the behavior of a massive whale that liked to corkscrew out of the water, flukes a-flying and make gigantic belly flops. We named it Flukey (though briefly considered Flukelander), and relished every ridiculous, extravagant, gravity defying stunt it pulled. All in all a super successful day sail, and a good shakedown for Koan and Darian.
On Tuesday we made a stop to provision fruit & veg at my favorite stand outside Moss Landing and then drove to Oxnard and got Curiouser rigged and ready.
On Wednesday morning we headed out. We took on diesel, which gave us a chance to do a practice docking, too, and then left the harbor under single reef. We rigged jacklines, and within a few miles decided to tuck a second reef, to keep things sedate. Darian got some practice driving, and we took turns as things got blusterier and choppier near the islands. The boat was fast under second reef, but I the leech of the main was very flappy -- very bad for longevity of the sail -- and the boat's wave piercing power definitely felt diminished in those conditions, probably 17 kts or so of breeze. I am also concerned that if I were to carry that second reef for, say, a week, the chafe at various spots would wreak absolute destruction on the sail. Nevertheless, it was a fast passage, and we were anchored in Yellowbanks, with two other boats, by 4pm. The skies were tropical and we were treated to an epic sunset.
The next day, Thursday, was one of those days that make Yellowbanks really special. The sky was clear blue, the breezes light, and there was a small south swell running that had all the surfers stopping by in their Radons. Darian made a SUP trip to the Yellowbanks beach to explore, then surfed the break (on the SUP, no less) and caught some beautiful long rides, and visited Smuggler's in the evening. I SUPed on the inflatable and did a bunch of fishing and lounging. I had some luck with jack mackerel and jacksmelt, but sadly didn't get lucky enough for dinner. Smuggler's was oddly sparse, and the crowd at Yellowbanks turned over but remained at a steady two other boats besides ours. The sunset was less spectacular, but the moon and stars stole the show.
I didn't sleep once again at anchor, in particular because around 4am the wind did a 180 from the direction we'd set the anchor in, and strengthened. If we'd dragged, we would have ended right on top of a catamaran that was anchored nearby. However, the anchor held just fine (in 25 ft depth with ~150 ft of rode). The Friday early morning weather check gave a building zone forecast, and I knew it would be stronger the further west we went, so, although I'd wanted to head for SB next, I decided we should return to Oxnard. The day was completely socked in, and, once we got inshore of the Anacapa passage, the wind shut off as well. We ended up motoring most of the way back. We used the pumpout -- more practice docking -- and returned to the slip. We celebrated with guacamole, cleaned up the boat, had amazing Pho for dinner, and I slept for 11 hours that night.
Saturday was also completely socked in, so we decided to head to Piedra Blanca and the Sespe Creek to get some sun and see something different. The 33 has recently reopened, but still has several sections of one-lane traffic, controlled by lights. Despite the hot conditions, there were a dozen cars at the trailhead. We hiked up to the first piedras, so Darian could see what those were like, and I was barely handling going uphill in 91 F. Then we backtracked and walked along the Sespe, looking for a spot I thought I remembered, where the creek used to run through smooth rocks that made for good pools, which used to hold trout even through the early years of the drought. But it seems that during the last few wet years the creek has shifted out of the bed I remembered and into one further south, or perhaps the bed I remembered has been remodeled by a lot of new material transported downstream. We quit looking around the 2.2 mile mark and headed off trail to find a spot to dip in the creek. We displaced a family of ducks from their spot and enjoyed a good cooling down and nibbling from the minnows. We then decided to return by walking in the creek bed, instead of via the trail. We did eventually get blocked, at a spot near the trail crossing where the vegetation gets too thick along the active creek bed -- the old creek bed is still passable, but you have to get through the very rugged spot where the two join up, which has lots of downed trees and a general mess. We both got small foot injuries during this return trek, Darian being barefoot for it, and me wearing Chacos, but it was still worth it. We returned to the boat via Ventura, for a pilgrimage stop at Patagonia HQ, Real Cheap sports, and a stop for Himalayan momos, preceded by tacos from the pastor stand just outside. Too much chai during dinner kept me up all night, idiot that I am, so I am still recovering from the sleep deprivation.
