phone # 510-232-7999 windwords · boris - 1977 cal 27’ - $4,500 windfall is for sale ready for...

June, 2008 Tradewinds Sailing School and Club

Wi n d wo r d s Newsletters are also

posted on our website

www.TradewindsSailing.com

Email us: [email protected]

Phone # 510-232-7999

From the Helm

Hey Everyone!!

The sailing season is in full swing.

Tradewinds is busy, busy and busy. I hope

everyone is finding time in their busy

schedule to do some sailing. Check our

web calendar and pages 2 and 5 in this

newsletter, because Tradewinds has a lot

of events coming up this summer, like

Sail with Butch and Lynn (this is the only

time they can get out on the water), Free

Ladies Sail, Raft-ups, Crew Socials (new

this year) and Free seminars. I hope to see

everyone on the water in the next few

months. Happy Sailing!

- Brandy

Contents:

Events and Announcements 2

Classes 3

Housekeeping 4

Adventures & Trips 5

Articles 6

2

Events & Announcements

Date Event

June 14

6PM

Brickyard Cove Marina Summer Party - Live music by Blue Lizzard, Potluck/

BYOB. Stop by the Brigantine Building after a day of sailing and relax with us!

June 14 - 15 Northern California Pirate Festival - We’re not running a booth there, but you

may bump into some of us if you visit the Vallejo Waterfront. Find the details at

www.norcalpiratefestival.com

Jun 14

Alameda

Get “Hands-on” in the Raymarine Trailer at you local West Marine - Hop on

board the Raymarine Trailer for your chance to see feel, and touch the latest A-, C-,

E-, and G-Series Systems as well as HD Digital Fishfinders, Radars, and Autopi-

lots.

Jun 16

Sausalito

Get “Hands-on” in the Raymarine Trailer at you local West Marine - Hop on

board the Raymarine Trailer for your chance to see feel, and touch the latest A-, C-,

E-, and G-Series Systems as well as HD Digital Fishfinders, Radars, and Autopi-

lots.

June 20 - 21 Summer Sailstice 2008 - Join in the fun either by water on your favorite boat or by

land at Treasure Island for the 2008 Summer Sailstice. Details online at

www.summersailstice.com/sf

June 21

5:30PM

Crew Social - Join us at the office for potluck hors d’oeuvres and BYOB. Meet

other Tradewinds members, exchange contact information and find people to sail

with!

June 24

9AM

Free Ladies Sail - Join us for our first Free Ladies Sail of the year. Invite friends

and enjoy a day-long sail on the bay with a lunch stop wherever the tides and cur-

rents allow!

June 28

10AM

Sail With Lynn & Butch - Open to the first 6 sailors who call. Don’t worry if

you’re not quick enough, we’ll be sailing often this year! This gives Butch and

Lynn a chance to visit with members and enjoy their passion for sailing on the Bay.

July 12 Tradewinds Raft - Up - Reserve your favorite boat and meet us at Paradise Cove.

Bring food and drink and raft-up with the fleet! This is always a fun day on the

bay!

July 19 Boat Ownership Seminar and Open House at Passage Yachts - Join Butch at

Passage Yachts in Brickyard Cove Marina to learn about the different ways to own

a boat. Take advantage of the time to ask questions and hang around afterwards for

the Open House to check out all of the new boats at Passage Yachts.

July 19 Crew Social - Join us at the office for potluck hors d’oeuvres and BYOB. Meet

other Tradewinds members, exchange contact information and find people to sail

with!

3

Classes

The following classes have at least one opening. Check the web calendar to view them in an easy-to-read format. Call the

office if you have any questions or would like to sign up. Classes are currently be filled 4-6 weeks in advance. We are cur-

rently running $100 off special (on BKB, BCC and BBC only!) through July, so buy them now for a discount!

Basic Keelboat

June 16,17,18 - 2 openings

June 18,19,20 - 1 opening

June 21,22,28,29 - 2 openings

June 23,24,25 - 3 openings

July 7,8,9 - 3 openings

July 16,17,18 - 1 opening

July 19,20,26,27 - 4 openings


July 26,27 & Aug 2,3 - 8 openings


Aug 2,3,9,10 - 8 openings

Aug 6,7,8 - 3 openings



Aug 16,17,23,24 - 4 openings


All-Women’s Basic Keelboat


Sept 13,14,20,21 - 4 openings

Basic Coastal Cruising June 21,22,28,29 - 1 opening

July 12,13,19,20 - 1 opening




July 26,27 & Aug 2,3 - 4 openings

July 30,311 & Aug 1 - 3 openings







All-Women’s Basic Coastal Cruising

Aug 16,17,18,19 - 1 opening

Bareboat Chartering





Sept 6,13,14 - 4 openings


Sept 27 & Oct 4,5 - 4 openings

Oct 4,11,12 - 4 openings

Coastal Navigation June 21 & 22 - 1 opening

Advanced Coastal Cruising




Oct 17,18,19 - 4 openings

BKB, BCC & BBC Review Classes ($150)

Basic Keelboat Review

July 20 - 4 openings

Basic Coastal Cruising Review


Bareboat Chartering Review


Advanced Docking and Motoring ($150)


Aug 3 - 4 openings

Advanced Anchoring ($150)

June 22 - 3 openings

July 27 - 1 opening

Aug 17 - 4 openings

Catamaran Basics ($195)


Sept 14 - 8 openings

4

Housekeeping

Boat Updates - Holding Tank Monitors! Some of the boats have already had holding tank moni-

tors installed and we will be adding them to the rest as quickly as we can. The Checkout Sheets

now have a spot to write down the holding tank level when you take a boat and when you return

it. Make sure you take the time to fill it in, or you may find yourself with someone else’s bill! Re-

member, you’re the skipper - if anyone on your boat uses the head, it is your responsibility to plan

a visit to the pump-out station when you are done sailing.

Checkouts - If you want to be able to go sailing at your convenience, make last minute reserva-

tions and have a broader selection of boats to choose from, make sure you get checked out on

every boat. The Checkouts on the Calendar are free, as always. This year we will be charging $25/

boat for Private Checkouts. Last year we found ourselves doing so many private checkouts that it

was not cost effective and other important jobs were put on hold. By charging $25 per boat we can

bring in an instructor to do the checkout for you - and even do multiple boats in one day. If you

know of another member who needs the same checkout(s), feel free to split the cost between you.

Boats for Sale - The following boats are for sale - let us know if you or anyone you know is in-

terested in owning one:

Boris - 1977 Cal 27’ - $4,500

WINDFALL IS FOR SALE

READY FOR YOUR FIRST SAILBOAT??

Members who sail WindFall, a 1994 Catalina 270 LE, know that she is a sweet sail. WindFall has been well main-

tained and a Tradewinds favorite. This Catalina model is hard to find on the west coast due to its popularity.

WindFall is a comfortable boat with amenities for weekend retreats and performance for Bay conditions. Price

$27,500. Contact Kelli Gant, 510-504-3111.

Inventory includes:

New prop – 2005

New jib furler – 2005

New mail sail and halyard – 2006

New transmission – 2006

New standing rigging – 2006

New jib – 2007

New bilge pump - 2007

Canvas dodger (in storage)

Cockpit cushions (in storage)

Blaupunkt 10 CD player/changer, wired for cockpit speakers

Last haul out and bottom paint – 2006

5

Adventures & Trips

Date Event

June 29 Farallone's Trip - Sail out of Sausalito aboard a 42’ Catamaran “Cat Ballou” for a

day trip to the Farallone Islands. $195 per person.

Aug 10 Farallone's Trip - Sail out of Sausalito aboard a 42’ Catamaran “Cat Ballou” for a

day trip to the Farallone Islands. $195 per person

Sept 28 Farallone's Trip - Sail out of Sausalito aboard a 42’ Catamaran “Cat Ballou” for a

day trip to the Farallone Islands. $195 per person

Sept 24 -

Oct 10

Croatia - Wow, what a trip this will be. It sold out and has a waiting list for can-

celations. Tradewinds members are already booking up the next one to the BVI’s!

We are always looking for articles for our newsletter We love to publish articles from our instructors, students and members. If you have a sailing-related experience

you’d like to share with us in writing, we’ll happily put it in the newsletter. Pictures are a huge plus, as well! E-

mail any newsletter related material to Matt.

- SAIL-577 4- 5577)

San Francisco Bay welcomes Tall Ships® from all over the world as they

proudly sail under the Golden Gate Bridge and into the hearts of young and

old for one week in July 2008! The awe-inspiring vessels will be docked

along the waterfront offering the public the unique opportunity to tour, sail

and learn.

In addition to the ships' arrival, the entire waterfront will be transformed in

to an international nautical attraction celebrating maritime past, present

and future. With an abundance of family activities including cultural and

musical entertainment, educational programs and events, Festival of Sail

San Francisco will enchant and delight the Bay Area. Join us!

Tickets on sale now! Click here

1-877-SAIL-577 (1-877-724-5577)

The Festival of Sail San Francisco is being produced by the San Francisco Maritime National Park Association, a 501(c)3 non-profit organization. If you, your company or organization is interested in financially supporting or volunteering at this event, please contact us. We couldn't do it without you!

The Tall Ships® begin their West Coast voyage nearly a month before

they arrive in San Francisco. From late June through early September

these magnificent ships will be sailing the Pacific coast and visiting

ports along the way. View schedule

Interested in volunteering for the 2008 Festival of Sail? Please click

here for more information.

Sign up for the Festival of Sail newsletter! Be the first to receive impor-

tant updates on the Festival this July. Sign up here.

http://www.festivalofsail.org/ticketing.asp

http://www.festivalofsail.org/contact.asp

http://www.festivalofsail.org/port-dates.asp

http://www.festivalofsail.org/NEWvolunteerSF.asp

http://www.festivalofsail.org/NEWvolunteerSF.asp

http://www.festivalofsail.org/newsletter-signup.asp

6

Crystal clear waters, boulder-formed caves, picture-perfect beaches,

easy deep-water island-hops, consistent tradewind breezes, line-of-sight

navigation in completely protected waters and numerous anchorages for

evenings ashore make this the ideal sailor’s paradise. Discover luxury

cruising on a big cat with 4 private

cabins, 4 private bathrooms, cock-

pits big enough for 2 dozen and

plenty of room on the sun deck. Stable sailing, no rocking at night, push-

button anchoring, and all the amenities you could wish for. This is a warm

winter get-a-way you don’t want

to miss, and a great way to

recover from the holidays!

Some possibilities include:

Anegada is the only major coral

island within the BVI’s. It features fabulous beaches, an immense bar-

rier reef, salt ponds, rock iguanas, flamingos, spectacular sunsets, and

great lobster dinners! Known as the "drowned island", Anegada's high-

est elevation is only 28' above the sea.

Jost Van Dyke- Swaying palm trees, spectacular views and beautiful

White Bay beach are complimented by her charming residents. This unhurried oasis evokes visions of the ideal,

Caribbean dream vacation.

The Caves at Norman Island

(above) are a great snorkeling

stop, with one small and two

large caves to explore.

Nearby is another wonderful

place to snorkel named "The

Indians" (right).

David Kory and Tradewinds are offering this fabulous sailing vacation

for the amazing low price of just $2,395 per person, which includes

the yachts, airfare from San Francisco and local transfers- every-

thing but food. (A big sailing magazine offers a 10-day trip, without airfare, for $4000 per person!) You are wel-

come to participate in sailing the yachts, or you can simply

relax and enjoy the ride. A deposit of $895 per person guar-

antees your spot, with the balance due by November 1. This

trip, like all of David’s adventures, will sell out quickly.

Don’t Delay! Contact David Kory: [email protected]

(925) 787-6893

British Virgin Islands

on Big Cats

Jan. 9 – 18, 2009

Enjoy 9 days on a huge 47-foot cata-

maran in a sailor’s paradise!

7

Articles

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Written by Jan Adkins

CAPRICIOUS SPRING WINDS were working up the Bay this morning. From the long arc of the Richmond Bridge

its pattern of whitecaps seemed miniature and delicate, but up close every cresting wave would buffet and drench

small boat. It wasn't a day for easy rowing or kayaking.

The skipper and his wife were waiting at Brickyard Cove at Point Richmond with a thirty-one foot Beneteau

sloop. It's a French boat with a nice turn of speed but not a radical racer, relatively stable. Sleek and plastic in the

modern taste on deck, she's hard edged but roomy below. Since she's part of a sailing club she carries good gear,

regularly checked, and fair electronics (depth sounder, knotmeter, wind-force sensor, &c).

Our fourth crew member never showed, so we dropped dock lines and backed out of the slip. We let the wind spin

our bow around and motored out of Brickyard Cove's very West Coast harbor, completely hemmed in by close-

packed, handsome, impossibly high-priced homes stilted over the water with to-die-for views of San Francisco,

Berkeley, Angel Island, Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge down the Bay.

The skipper's wife and I took in the fenders, hitching them to the stern pulpit, and I took the wheel. Leaving your

fenders dangling in the water unremembered is like returning to the restaurant's dining room with toilet paper

stuck on your shoe. In the outer harbor we reduced power and jogged up into the eye of the wind to make sail.

I like the skipper. More than that, I respect him. He's a thoughtful man without the faults of many new skippers: he

isn't seeking adventure or daring the elements. He takes weather and water as serious challenges that can over-

whelm any manufactured item, even well-found boats. The tide was flooding, current coming up the Bay, and was

driven by an unusual southerly wind piping up 20 and 25 knots. So he started our day with two tucks. That means

he reefed, or reduced the area of the mainsail, by raising it only to the level of the second reef line, where it was

snugged down by a reef grommet at the second reef's tack (forward lower corner of the triangular sail) and the

grommet at the second reef's clew (the aft lower corner). The jib – the triangular sail in front – is roller furled

(wound up like a window shade on a vertical rolling device attached to the forestay). The skipper reefed the jib by

drawing only part of it out of its roll.

Automobile drivers seldom understand that most sailboats can't go faster than a mathematically calculable limit,

the hull speed. You can't step on the gas and go faster. It's a sure but technically involved fact. Try to push the boat

faster and it only makes a bigger bow wave and loses control. With plenty of wind out on the Bay, these smaller

sails would be easier to handle, wouldn't push the boat down at a vicious angle of heel, and would power the boat

quite well enough.

Beyond the outer harbor's breakwaters we took a course for Raccoon Straits, between Angel Island and Tiburon.

We took the waves on our port bow and the Beneteau earned some respect from me. She's a dry boat. This is a

prime compliment from any sailor. It means that the three dimensional geometry of a boat's hull and her motion in

the water don't fling up a curtain of spray that comes hurtling back into the cockpit. Some boats that are just fine in

other ways sail wet, drenching their helmsman and passengers consistently. This Beneteau 323 is, in this respect

and in most others, mannerly.

Sailor's wince at landsmen who enthuse, "I love the sea! Let's go to the beach!" Sailors don't like the beach. The

beach is the enemy. They spend a lot of effort to keep off the beach. Nor do they "love the sea." You can't love

anything that big and cold. The sea has no warmth or pity, no personality beyond our feeble fantasies. And those

flimsy masks will change in minutes or hours when the complexion of the sea changes.

8

Articles continued

Actually, what we normally call the sea is a misnomer, and if the sea did have a personality it would be as peevish

as a native American being called an "Indian." The sea is the body of water, deep and wide. We look at the sea's

surface as its nature, when it's really the interface between two moving, interacting, inimical elements. Throughout

our tour of the upper Bay we were suspended by buoyancy over varying depths of dark, moving water, between

the reach of a boathook and the height of a 16 story building.

The sea's surface this afternoon had worked itself into an opaque light green flecked with rabid foam, the color of

an unhealthy lawn. The wind above the surface – sometimes whipping over the humpback of Angel Island, some-

times hooting directly through the Gate from the Pacific – was cold and insistent, searching out improvident seams

in clothing or gaps between collar and neck. A thick winter fleece was welcome on this May day, and occasionally

not thick enough. Fingerless sailing gloves were also welcome, though the sun had burned off the early fog and

mist so that a Gulf Stream fisherman's hat and dark, polarized sunglasses were also a comfort.

We sailed with the wind close on our port bow from Point Richmond to the Tiburon Peninsula and then turned

through a little more than a right angle to bring the wind close on our starboard bow, angling toward Treasure Is-

land.

The daylight helmsman (I was still at the wheel and would be until we cleared the inner harbor breakwater, return-

ing) divides his attention between surface traffic, the approaching waves, the masthead tell-tale (a wonderfully ex-

pressive nautical name that indicates the wind's direction with a simple wind-pointing arrow), and the depth

sounder. He reads the shape of the bottom's hills and valleys as his boat moves and gets nervous when the readings

are less than twenty feet. Far off Berkeley we passed over shoals less than fifteen feet deep that give bigger, deeper

ships nightmares. For us they were a kind of breathing space because the water rushing swiftly over the shallow

bottom smoothed the surface. We could see the shape of the shoal around it where the whitecaps gave away to

smaller waves that didn't break. If the wind had been coming from its usual northwest quadrant, we might have

read the shoal as a patch of rougher water.

This was a long tack and it should have been longer. When we thought we'd made enough southing to return to our

first course and clear the rock-studded southern tip of Angel Island, the wind had shifted and the tide worked

against us, so that we slanted in four hundred yards North of the point toward its beach. With a metaphorical shrug

we tacked back toward Treasure Island for another half an hour before we tacked to weather the point again. Even

this was a close-run thing, but the wind changed a point (sailor stuff: there are eight "points" in a quarter circle)

and by sailing as close to the wind as we could without losing power we managed it.

We had the Golden Gate on our port bow, then, the sublime bridge (it really is) dark against the Pacific sky, but

we also had that hooting squirt-gun compression of the wind through the Gate, and the rough water that goes with

it. We were lucky in the flood tide; had the tide been ebbing southwest against the wind, the waves would have

been short, chaotic, brutal, and it would have been a miserable passage. Even with this tidal luck it was a fussy

patch of water and the wheel required moment by moment attention.

The Beneteau 323 has a fin keel, like an upside-down shark's fin, to counteract sideways movement. Older hulls

had a straight run of keel, a long blade of sideways resistance that tended to hold a course. This fin keel makes the

boat more maneuverable, able to turn quickly, but with a nasty chop chewing away at the cheek of her quarter the

helm is squirrely and demanding.

We met some traffic out in the big channel. The best was a sea lion swimming higher in the water than normal to

peer over the wave tops, it's beautiful sleek form more apparent.

9

Articles continued

We also encountered two other sailboats. The rules of the road at sea are more complicated than highway traffic

rules but the two applicable rules this afternoon were that a boat on the starboard tack (wind over his starboard

bow) has the right of way over a port-tack boat, and of two boats on the same tack the downwind boat has the right

of way. In both instances we were the burdened (responsible for getting out of the way) vessel.

Our problematic traffic was a big tour boat, something near the hundred foot size. There were two conflicting rules

in this meeting: sailing vessels have the right of way; large commercial vessels, because of their unwieldy han-

dling and enormous momentum, have the right of way. The difficulty was compounded by the dictum that the ves-

sel with right of way should stand on – keep going on its course – so the other vessel will know what to do. But

was the tour boat big enough and commercial enough to take precedence? We stood on, debating the question over

the rush of the wind, intent on the constant bearing. (A collision course between any two boats is predicted by the

relative directions between them; if a boat is two points ahead of your starboard beam now, and still is a minute

from now, your boats will collide unless someone does something smart.) Just as I decided that he was much big-

ger than we were and I was much less interested in right of way than in continuing pleasantly, the tour boat

changed course and speed. We never came within 300 yards of each other.

Clear of Angel Island's southern point we turned north toward Raccoon Strait, bringing the heavy wind and

choppy seas farther aft. We trimmed sail for this new direction and swooped, slid, shot across the waves at close to

seven and a half knots. I suppose this doesn't seem very fast to anyone accustomed to 70 mph on the superhigh-

way, but the sense of speed close to the heaving, hissing water and the boat's strain felt through the wheel and the

soles of your deck shoes make seven knots feel mightily swift.

We shot into the wind shadow and calm seas of Raccoon Strait and made a pleasant passage, opening the toney

little village of Tiburon on our port with the dramatic height of Angel Island on our starboard. We passed a hum-

ble rowboat crossing from Tiburon to Angel, and a kayak. They were notable only because the rest of our voyage

had been so hairy that they seemed out of place, though the Strait this afternoon was surely a mild, warm place.

Our French sloop climbed into the wind and wave ring again when we exited Angel Island's wind shadow but we

were bound for the barn, on our homeward leg, and the wind had moderated. It was a duck soup run without traf-

fic, a wholly pleasant leg that, at least in our thoughts, we'd bought with our earlier efforts.

Our little voyage was no saga of the sea, no great adventure. At no time were we in danger or distress. We were

never, who should say, uncomfortable. No unusual wonders presented themselves. And yet we returned to our

picayune automobiles and to the high speed superhighway with a sense of accomplishment. What did we accom-

plish?

What the water gives to any sailor depends on the science and mythology a person allows it. For an historian, poet,

navigator or traditionalist, it dispenses different gifts. For any attentive sailor, however, it brings the warp and

woof of natural forces close and reminds him that life ashore may be personally interesting or difficult but the vast

world of limitless powers roll on day and night without reference to his small workings. We're humbled. And

somehow we're comforted by the largeness of it, acknowledging that the worries that fuzz our brain aren't really

that big, are they?

I'll sleep well tonight. I always do after sailing. My body needs rest because on the liquid interface of wind and

water it was constantly flexing and balancing, nearly every muscle contributing second by second. And maybe

this, too, is a comfort, some ancient reckoning of a body that works to survive. Whatever, I'll sleep after I experi-

ence that strange phantom rocking sensation that remains for hours after a voyage, rocking me to a sound, dream-

filled sleep.

10

Articles continued

Coastal Cruising - San Francisco to San Diego

By Marianne Wheeler

Monday, April 14, 2008, the southbound crew stowed their food and gear on my Cal 40, Chaparral, realizing we

had way too many bags and provisions for a four day adventure. While they were figuring out where to put every-

thing, I made a final sweep through the Brickyard Cove parking lot and the Tradewinds office collecting good-

luck hugs and well-wishes. David Kory set down a box of doughnuts to share and, minding the weather forecast,

sewed a strong reef into Chaparral’s mainsail before we left the dock. By 0930 we were ready to cast off and head

out on the morning ebb for our Coastal Cruise from San Francisco to San Diego.

It started out windy and before we reached Raccoon Straits most of the crew had donned foul weather gear and

stood at attention. White caps whipped the bay and spray splashed into the cockpit. We had a buckaroo ride get-

ting out the Gate in the rumpled water and met fairly large waves on the other side. By the time we reached San

Francisco Channel buoy number 8 the crew was drenched and some, although they had taken sea-sickness preven-

tion stuff, started to turn green with the onset of mal de mer. They smiled bravely and swallowed hard. The fore-

cast was for high winds in the North Pacific and San Francisco Bay and we planned to sail south, away from it all,

as fast as we could. We heard later that winds that day blew more than forty knots near Brickyard Cove.

So we were off to a flying start, happy about the reefed main and partially rolled up jib. We pinned up the watch

schedule and rotated four hours on, six hours off, trading at the helm every ½ hour. We got used to being engulfed

by tall waves and long swells as we aimed the boat to the downwind horizon at seven-plus knots speed.

After Pigeon Point, the seas moderated and our ride, while remaining fast, turned much calmer. We settled into the

rhythm of downwind sailing in winds of 15 to 20 knots. The sun was shinning, Chaparral was running, some

bothering breakfasts had been thrown up, and life was good.

Speranza steering downwind Dick hanging ten

The wind stayed strong and steady all day and through our first night, sailing under a silvery bright, nearly full

moon. The crew had gelled fast and we were a taut ship with lots of laughter and all the jibes we made were

smooth and planned. A coastal chart at the nav-station and a GPS in the cockpit made sure we stayed on track and

in the right hemisphere.

11

Articles continued

David and Dwight – Are we there yet?

In addition to fabulous ocean-sailing, we also gained living

aboard experience. We saw what it takes to be on a moving

boat day and night, learning a lot. Like, how not to make

coffee underway. The simple task of brewing a nice cup of

java can become an elaborate ordeal. Tall mugs with drip-

filters on top will not stay put in a rocking boat while pour-

ing hot water over them. Cleaning up soggy coffee grounds

all over the cabin is messy and requires dogged persever-

ance, acrobatic agility, and patience – three traits every

sailor should cultivate. When all is done, the coffee is cold

and you are too tired to start over.

Chaparral blazed south along the California Coast, cutting

through the billowing sea and seemed exuberantly happy to

sail. We surfed over endless stretches of waves, flying

across white, rushing foam, accelerating effortlessly to high double digit speeds. Chaparral was, as the old salt

saying goes, running with a bone in her teeth..

At Point Arguello and Point Conception she reigned herself in a bit and made us sit up. We were entering tall, con-

fused seas where the wind had built huge waves. We were surrounded by masses of water, walls of jagged, liquid

mountains moving without a plan. Chaparral climbed up over them and slid back down again and sideways up and

crosswise down, resting briefly on top of the world before diving low into the dark-green, watery valleys. Never a

dull moment, but I was glad to leave the Points behind. By the time we reached the Channel Islands, we were sail-

ing in easy swells and basking in another beautiful day out on the big, blue Pacific. The winds slowed and we

turned on the engine to keep our course.

By now everyone knew how to make the least mess while heating food or drink, how to sleep in short intervals

with the engine droning, and how to find what they were looking for in their bags without having to search all of

them first.

Who’s that sleeping? Who’s that sleeping?

12

Articles continued

April 17 at 0730, we spotted the channel buoys for San Diego Harbor and followed them in. The morning was

mild and sunny. San Diego Bay lay flat and welcoming. A huge Navy ship appeared in front of us commanding

the entire channel and silently passed by. It felt eerie being greeted like that. We docked at the Sheriff’s dock on

Shelter Island, washed the salt off the boat and decorated the boom with our wet foul weather gear. We thoroughly

soaked our salty bones under the hot shower and reveled in the fuzzy feeling of our fine sailing accomplishment

and our fresh, clean clothes.

Boom decoration

Congratulating ourselves on a speedy, well-sailed Coastal Cruise, the crew couldn’t help but smile. Dick, who

likes stir-fries with lots of veggies, fresh fish, and home-cooking, realized that this trip got him back into sail-

ing. Dwight, who introduced us to “Home Bistro” food ordered via the internet and shipped on dry ice, noted no

unexpected surprises and could have easily gone on to Hawaii. John, who cooks his own gourmet delicacies and

seals them in shrink wrap, often laughed out loud when the boat was easy to steer in heavy seas and liked that “it

sailed itself”. Speranza and Dave, who brought plenty of fresh fruit, yoghurts, “Dinty Moore” and “Chef Boyar-

dee”, were surprised how busy life on board turns out to be - sailing, sleeping, surviving the galley - t hey found

little time for reading or other entertainment they had brought along. Dave was astonished how cold the Northern

Pacific really can be and also by how little space we all need to be comfortable. And, Speranza expressed every-

one’s sentiment when she said in amazement: “How can seven strangers have such a wonderful experience to-

gether?” David Kory and I opened a bottle of Chardonnay and toasted King Neptune, the crew, and the boat.

13

Articles continued

Harbor Discovery - San Diego to San Francisco

By Marianne Wheeler

Would someone really volunteer to bash north, beating up the coast from San Diego to San Francisco? Why, of

course. But, it would have to be a tough, no-nonsense sort of sailor, ready for a challenge. The kind that eats nails

for breakfast. Our coast is legendary for grueling upwind sailing and motoring relentlessly against a cutting north-

west wind. For this hardy crew, it would turn out to be a mixed bag - San Diego to Channel Islands Harbor would

be easy, flying the spinnaker much of the time. From Santa Barbara to San Francisco it would be mostly sailing

against the wind and the waves. The plan was to stop often on the way north, mainly to learn how to find, ap-

proach, and enter harbors along the way, but also to rest every night in a protected marina.

Bill, Bob, Jim, and Sid were the hardy crew that flew to San Diego to meet Chaparral, David Kory and me, April

18, 2008. They brought along their gear, plenty of provisions and raving good spirits, ready to take on whatever

the elements had in store. Aside from many nautical items they hauled aboard, like additional charts, an electronic

star finder, a beautiful sextant, a personal E-PIRB, a handheld GPS, and many sailors’ books, I noticed a large

French coffee press. Was there a chance for airborne grounds going north?

We left San Diego through treacherous kelp fields, their floating, sneaky vines ready to hold us back by the pro-

peller, and headed for Oceanside Harbor. The winds were light, time to break out the pink and blue asymmetrical

spinnaker and that in turn made us break out into wide, persistent smiles. Blue sky, blue water, the sun in our face,

we sailed as fast as the wind blew, watching the beautiful Southern Coast go by. Arriving in Oceanside in the early

afternoon, we had time to explore and sample the restaurants.

Next morning, we motored for a while and when the wind came up we set the spinny again, beam reaching warm

and mellow all the way to Dana Point. We entered a busy harbor with fairways jammed full of all kinds of vessels.

Threading our way through traffic we looked for and found our guest slip and tied up unscathed. After sharing sa-

lami and cheese appetizers and a good bottle of Cabernet, we headed out to shops and restaurants and up a lofty

hill for a sunny, see-forever-view of the far and wide Pacific.

More days of spinnaker sailing and jib reaching followed as we wound our way up the coast. In Long Beach, we

stayed at the Harborlight Marina near the Queen Mary and were startled by the grand, old cruise ship’s reverberat-

ing baritone horn sounding long and low on the hour. In Channel Islands Harbor, military men checked us into the

marina, handed us a dye-tablet and trusted us to put it into the head holding tank. Anywhere else where this is re-

quired, like on Catalina Island, the officials sternly come aboard to execute this procedure to ensure that no refuse

is dumped without l eaving a bright, neon-yellow telltale puddle in the water. Fines are high and any culprit will be

unwelcome far into the future. In Santa Barbara, it was an easy walk from the harbor to State Street, leading di-

rectly into the heart of this idealized Mediterranean-styled world.

Harbor-hopping was interesting and a lot of fun.

The northbound crew had meshed well, connecting easily and sharing great camaraderie sailing the boat, or walk-

ing about on shore. With so many restaurants at every stop there wasn’t much use of the galley, but lots of discov-

ering memorable breakfast spots and fine food dinner places instead. On top of it all, these sailors had a love in

every port. As soon as we neared a harbor, a gleam appeared in their eye and as soon as the boat was docked, noth-

ing could hold them back. Crusty or not, they dashed off to indulge their held-back passion, forgetting all about the

French beauty of a press onboard. They were off in pursuit of a hot, heart-racing coffee buzz at the nearest Star-

bucks. Ahhh!

14

Articles continued

Bob and Bill off shift

Santa Barbara gave all a good rest before we set out to

round the notorious capes, again, Point Conception and

Point Arguello. But, this time we would have the wind and

the waves against us. The weather had been consistently

clear with winds of 15 to 25 knots and the extended fore-

cast was much the same. We changed out the big jib for the

Kevlar “blade”, a 75% upwind sail, and put back the dou-

ble-reef in the main. The plan was to leave Santa Barbara at

2100 hours that evening so we would reach the Points after

midnight. Conditions often calm down at night and in the

early morning hours, and that’s what we hoped for. The

Marina was strangely calm, no wind here, and the crew

seemed quiet. We all had an early dinner, another shower,

and a nip of Bill’s Pusser’s rum, which he had stashed un-

der the settee bunk and almost forgotten. After checking

the weather one more time, we decided to go. It was 6pm and we were ready.

It turned out to be a long, cold night as we sailed and motored north, with conditions not calming a whole lot. The

crew, wearing all the layers of extra clothing available, took turns steering Chaparral through long trains of large

waves, spray flying. It was a long, wet, tiring haul before we left the flashing lights of the Points behind and we

still had half a day to go before we could duck in at Morro Bay and recover.

The morning sun brightened the mood all around. The seas started to lay down for a rest and the wind finally

needed a breather. We crossed the wide Morro Bay and aimed at the tall cone of Morro Rock. A bit ragged around

the edges, we docked alongside the Morro Bay Yacht Club and climbed off the boat. The sea otters eyed us curi-

ously as we lined up at the showers and the laundry to dissolve thick crusts of salt.

Morro Rock Sea Otter

We had arrived on a Saturday, just in time for the famous “Second Annual Kite Festival and Parade”. After some

rest and a hearty meal, hold the salt please, we took on the festivities and checked out the town, walking with a

decided swagger.

In the evening, a beautiful sunset spread tranquility and a soft, golden glow over the harbor. As darkness came, the

sky remained high and clear, letting us star-gaze late into the night.

15

Articles continued

With an early departure for Monterey, a warm east wind treated us to a nice, but short sail. It was too good to last

and we motored most of the day against 10 to 15 knots from the north-west. When the wind increased in the after-

noon, we sailed, short-tacking close to shore. In the evening, the wind came down, again, sometimes to only 4, or

5 knots. We knew we had to motor around Point Sur that night and it looked good, even with the waves running

high.

It was already dark as we moved along our rhumb line, clicking down the miles, when suddenly the wind started to

howl. Almost in the blink of an eye, it went to blustering blows and gale-like gusts. That was not in the forecast!

Soon we were beating into the waves, taking bursts of spray over the bow, slapping our face at will. Here we go

again - it was night and we had to round a point, and this time Big Sur had it in for us.

Conditions slowed the boat down and steering became difficult. The apparent wind speed registered in the mid-

30’s. It would take another big effort of the crew and the boat to get where we wanted to go. The wind whistled

through the rigging and down on us, and like clockwork, buckets of chilled water emptied every minute, or so,

over our soggy, huddled shapes in the cockpit. We took it, but left our chins down. The waves were not unusually

high, but broke in short intervals, making Chaparral pound into them with a shiver and shake. She took it, letting

the waves push her around and slam into her side.

We saw the light of Point Sur flashing quietly on the dark shore ahead. Making only 2 knots over ground at times,

it seemed as if we would never reach it. When we finally had, it stayed abeam for what seemed like an eter-

nity. As Chaparral collided with the seas, the crew had to concentrate on the job at hand. Gritting our teeth, grip-

ping the tiller hard, we held our salt-blinded eyes fixed on the dancing compass needle. We couldn’t get any wet-

ter, but still flinched under every dowsing that came aboard. As Chaparral confronted the waves and the wind

ripped through the night, the crew held on, cold and weather-

beaten, wishing for each half-hour shift to end. Whose idea was

this, anyway? High above, in the vastness of the night sky, a

million bright stars sent down their light to us. It was a beautiful

sight, and yes, I had wanted to sail this coast, once again, appar-

ently forgetting how hard it can be.

We slept well in the harbor of Monterey. We slept almost all

day and the following night, right through the incessant bark of

the local attraction, an ornery herd of sea lions. They line the

breakwater, lying on top of each other, or float on their back

flipping a flipper, barking and belching around the clock. They

seem to own the place and many boats were covered with net-

ting to keep them off.

Fueling

With about ninety miles to Brickyard Cove, we topped off the diesel and forced ourselves into the still wet foul

weather gear, fragrant with the scent of old seawater. There is no doubt in our mind, why they are called foulies

with a smell like that.

The weather remained reliably windy and against us the rest of the way home. We stayed close to shore, out of the

worst, watching for rocks and breaking surf, or any hazards that might be in our way.

Night-sailing along land takes getting used to. In the dark there is no depth perception and it is difficult to judge

distances. You can’t see where you are going and lights along the shore can be very confusing. What looks like a

red buoy may turn into a green one and you realize it’s a changing traffic light. We followed the GPS course most

of the time, but if we’d become anxious about hitting anything, we fell off and went further out to sea.

16

Articles continued

We made it home safely and put the good ship Chaparral in her slip. The crew, tired but smiling, had to say their

good-bys. Bill still wants to buy his own boat, Bob still dreams of his catamaran, Jim still wants to go chartering,

only in warmer climes. And Sid still wants to go cruising, but only with a dodger and an auto pilot. All plan to do

less motoring upwind.

I believe they definitely have become strong, life-long members of the saltwater-people, a small, crazy, seafaring

tribe.

I also believe that David Kory and his lap-top are the best weather forecasters for any sailing adventure in the

world.

phone # 510-232-7999 windwords · boris - 1977 cal 27’ - $4,500 windfall is for sale ready for...

Documents