Day 52-57 of the 2nd Voyage: In which we finally find ourselves in Southern California (and on our own terms) but we may have another problem.

Morro Bay to Long Beach: Resolved to make the 180-mile journey to Long Beach and faced with a 26-hour passage, a transmission that has still not proven itself to be 100% trustworthy, and the one-two punch of Point Arguello and Point Conception (i.e. the “Cape Horn of the Pacific”), we did what any gun shy crew would do…we brought in a professional. Now when we mentioned to some of our dock mates in Morro Bay that we were utilizing the services of a local delivery captain, many of them looked at us as if we had a) lost a bet, b) received one free delivery skipper with the purchase of another of equal or greater value, or c) finally come to terms with the fact that on the Master and Commander scale, my boating expertise was somewhere near a Captain Ron. In other words, they couldn’t understand why we were so concerned about Point Conception that we felt we needed help. (And yes, the answer is “C” but still, they don’t understand.) You see, many of them had years of sailing experience, most had made the trek from central to southern California numerous times (and with the benefit of a working transmission), and a few were just idiots*, but almost all felt that the best way to gain experience was to just get out there on your own and deal with whatever the sea throws at you aka the “sink or swim” method. Now I can totally respect that and I’m all for getting out there and doing it (well, maybe not so much the sinking or swimming part—neither sounds very appealing when you’re 15 miles offshore), but in the grand scheme of things, I’d much rather my “experience” come with training wheels. I prefer my moments of fear, apprehension, and extreme uncomfortableness be reasonably doled out and interspersed with periods of calm, contentment and excitement. And if that keeps us in the harbor longer than most or necessitates another crew member, then so be it. Besides, I’m not really sure what experience you gain when clinging to the rails and praying that you’re not going to be the “fun size” version of the Poseidon Adventure.

As for the Captain, he’s basically a crew of one until my skills improve, so it’s more reassuring for him to have one other person on board who not only knows what they’re doing but knows the best routes around the points and can be of help should something go horribly wrong (I’m looking at you, engine room.) And that’s how James came to be part of the Raven crew on the passage from Morro Bay to Long Beach. This particular route is his specialty and the trip couldn’t have gone smoother. We hit an optimal weather window, found a route just far enough offshore to reduce the effects of swell, and kept the watches to three hours to combat fatigue. To top it all off, the transmission did its job and kept the bitching to a minimum (a little discharge of oil, but nothing to be too concerned about). By the time we reached Long Beach, confidence levels were rising. It would have been a near-perfect voyage had not the docking gone totally awry. But that was less about line handling and more about bad directions and an outdated marina map. Editor’s Note: Should you find yourself at Alamitos Bay Marina, be advised that docks 1-3 are now just 1, dock 4 is 2, dock 5 is 3, and so on. And if they assign you 3A, be aware there is no 3A but there is a 3B so go ahead and sidle in there. And, oh, try not to miss getting on the boat when it pulls away from the check-in dock as it makes it very difficult to direct the boat into the slip which no longer exists and then convey to the boat that 5 is now 3 (and there is no 3A) especially when the office has no VHF, the Captain won’t answer his cell phone and for some reason he can’t decipher your wild hand gestures as you run from dock to dock trying to determine which one is “right down from the Crab Pot”. Suffice to say, it got a little f*cked up.

But at last we did get tied up on the end of dock 3, walked down the length of the dock to the Crab Pot restaurant, and celebrated a successful journey with four liter-size mugs of beer. Editor’s Note: Try to avoid the tables under the palm trees. If the tree itself isn’t dropping things on you, the squirrels and the birds are. One of them managed a bullseye right into the Captain’s mug. Luckily it was just a seed pod; had it been something else, he would have opened a can of Wild Kingdom on their asses.

So what’s the problem? We really love it here! Alamitos Bay is spectacular. The marina here is modern, clean, and beautifully landscaped. Seal Beach and Naples Island are within easy walking distance. We’re in close proximity to stores and services. And the Pacific Ocean is just beyond the jetty with Catalina Island only a few hours away. (I hear that Los Angeles is around here somewhere but I won’t hold that against it.) Maybe it’s because we’re warm and wearing flip-flops while the “drizzle days” of winter commence back in Washington, or maybe it’s because we’ve finally reached Southern California after a long and occasionally-arduous journey, or maybe it’s whatever the palm trees are dropping in our drinks, but for whatever reason we’ve fallen hard for this place and for a brief moment we were wondering if we even needed to continue going south. But this second voyage of the odyssey can only end in San Diego, so onward we go. Tomorrow we set out for Oceanside.

 

*You didn’t think I’d let that “idiot” remark slide without commenting on it, did you? Maybe “idiot” is a strong word, but as we were waiting for our weather window in Morro Bay, a Bayliner motor yacht came in late one night and tried to raft up next to us. They had just bought the boat and were on their way to Mexico and judging by the way they handled the craft, it became apparent to me that they had no idea what they were doing. And I don’t say this because they only had two dinghy fenders on a 50’ boat; or that their lines looked like they came off of a clothesline; or that it took six people to get them tied off because he couldn’t quite manage the docking. I say this because the following morning as they set out to leave I asked them if they were concerned about the conditions around Point Conception and the reply was, “Oh? I didn’t hear the weather. Is the weather supposed to be bad?” I explained that the forecast called for 10 foot seas and 15-20 knot winds with gusts of up to 35. “Is that bad?” they asked and then immediately remarked, “Oh well, guess it’s good experience.” Ten minutes later, they were gone. I often wondered how they fared. My guess is that if they stopped along the way and picked up a professor, a movie star, a millionaire and his wife then we won’t be hearing from them for a while.

Pictured: The First Mate and Otter at Seal Beach

Not Pictured: Seals. What's up with that?

 

Pictured: Alamitos Bay Harbor as seen from the deck of Raven

Not Pictured: Drizzle (it couldn't get past Point Conception)

 

 

  

Pictured: Squirrel at Crab Pot bar scouting out his next bombing target

Not Pictured: Ammo. He's still working on that.