Passage notes: Santa Cruz to Morro Bay

Log Book

 

• Port of departure: Santa Cruz, CA
• Departure date and time: 9:00am on Wednesday, November 14
• Port of arrival: Morro Bay, CA
• Arrival date and time: 11:00pm on Thursday, November 15
• Total travel time: ~38 hours
• Nautical miles traveled: 140+
• Engine hours start – end – logged: 790 – 813 – 23
• Gallons of diesel start – end – used: 27.2 – 18 – 9.2
• Weather forcast: Wednesday morning, E winds 10 knots with wind waves
  less than two feet and a 2-4 foot NW at 13 seconds. Wednesday afternoon and evening,
  W winds 10-15 knots with wind waves less than two feet and a 2-4 foot NW swell at
  13 seconds. Thursday morning, SE winds 5-15 knots with wind waves 2-4 feet and
  a 3-5 foot NW swell at 10 seconds. Thursday afternoon and evening, S/SE winds
  5-15 knots, gusting to 20 with 2-4 feet wind waves and a 3-5 foot NW swell at
  10 seconds. Chance of showers.

This was
an incredibly schizophrenic leg, mostly because we were torn between desire and
practicality. We really wanted to make it south past Point Conception, to
warmer weather, where we could spend some time exploring the Channel Islands
before meeting up with friends for Thanksgiving dinner and taking the HAM test
in Los Angeles. The weather report looked okay, but we’ve learned (the hard
way) that you can’t always trust the weather report. It’s usually more about
trends and the latest trend showed that a storm was a brewin’. Plus these
reports cover too much surface area to accurately predict micro-weather
patterns that form off of, say…Point Conception. So there’s always a degree of
uncertainty when it comes to the weather. It’s also hard to beat upwind, but
dammit if we weren’t gonna try.

We set out with every intention of trying to get past Point Conception to Santa Barbara before the
bigger winds and waves started up, but that was at the beginning of the trip
when we were still wide eyed and well rested. More on that later.

Tuesday was an awesome day of sailing and being alive in general. We started out of the gate with our
sails up in 10-15 knots of wind blowing from the East. There was some
unpleasant chop (the wind blowing against the swell, plus a strong ebb
current), but once we got the sails up we sliced right through it. By lunch
time the wind died down and we decided to motor sail until it picked up again.
The wind was dead through most of the afternoon, but we were making pretty good
speed (around 6.5 knots) until the evening.

At around 5:45pm, just before sunset, Jeff called me up to
the cockpit. The water was like a still pond, you could see the clouds
reflected off of the surface. It was absolutely incredible. We took down the
sails, turned off the motor, and bobbed. I have never seen a more striking
sunset. There were so many layers, the shapes of the clouds and the cast of
colors ever changing as the sun crept further from us, projecting its light to top
of the cloud banks and the tips of the hills behind us. I took more pictures than
my SD card can handle (an exaggeration…kind of). Just when we thought it couldn’t get any better Jeff spotted a
sliver of moon, drenched in reds and oranges as it followed the sun over
the horizon. I’m smiling just thinking of it.

My camera can’t do it justice. Look at that water! Awesome clouds. Moonset.

We didn’t get that west wind the weather report mentioned,
which had its benefits. The water was so calm all night that I could see the stars
clearly reflected. The bioluminescence trailing our boat was bright and playful.
Serenity was weaving a path through the night sky, mirrored around us.

We tried to get our little diesel stove going on several
occasions…but failed, which meant that hot water would wait until the morning.
When Jeff came on watch at 4:30am the wind was starting to pick up, but we
decided to wait until sunrise to raise the sails. I woke up at 6:15am and the
wind was lively, blowing from the S/SE. We raised the sails and spent pretty
much the rest of the day trying to make progress against the wind and waves. The
wind was exactly where we wanted to be, so we were weaving around trying to
find the optimal tack. 3-5 foot wind waves don’t sound so bad until you’re
climbing up a steep one and slamming your bow into its friends. Not very
conducive to restful slumber and happy sailors.

Around lunchtime Jeff found a really solid tack that was on
a good heading for Point Conception and cruising at about 6 knots (though Conception
was still a good 80 miles away). Heartened by the news that we were finally
making some progress I started doing domestic tasks – washing the dishes,
changing the cat litter, cleaning up the cabin, boiling water (on our grill) for
hot cocoa and dinner. Everything seemed really good and manageable all of the
sudden. I still couldn’t get the diesel stove to work, but that was no longer
such a big deal.

Towards the end of Jeff’s shift the wind started to die down
again and when I came on watch I turned the motor on to make progress while the
winds were light. We were making a solid 5 knots, but were still about 60 miles
from Conception by mid-afternoon. Meanwhile Jeff was trying to rest and the
waves were steadily increasing. We belly flopped on one wave and Jeff bolted
out of bed, afraid that things were out of control. They were well in control…just
terribly uncomfortable for someone trying to sleep in the V-Berth.

At this point we were still making good progress. The wind
was almost non-existent, so we lowered the sails, but the waves were still
causing us some heartache. We waffled over whether or not we should try to get
past Conception or if we should turn left and tuck into Morro Bay, knowing that
we would probably be stuck there over the weekend. We were still game for
Conception (though a little less enthusiastic). That was before the Doctor (our
autopilot) went on the fritz. Over a lukewarm dinner of freeze-dried Mountain House meals the
Doctor had us spinning in circles.

At this point we reconsidered our decision again…but stuck
to the original plan, resolving that we would shorten our watches since hand
steering at night, up the backs of waves can be rather tiring. I curled up in
the V and pretended to sleep while we climbed and slammed, climbed and slammed,
climbed and slammed. One hour passed and Jeff yelled at me to come on up. He
had only been making 2.5 knots against the waves and had turned us towards
Morro Bay.

At 9:00pm we were still 10 miles and 2 hours from the
entrance to Morro Bay. I checked the tides and was pleased to discover that we
would be entering on a rising tide (a good thing). A phone call to the Coast
Guard confirmed that the bar conditions were good, low swell and no wind. It’s
amazing how much calmer it was as we got closer to shore. The approach to Morro
Bay was very friendly and approachable, well lit and wide…everything you hope
for when approaching a jettied channel at night.

Navionics chart showing the end of our journey. The track feature somehow got turned off midway. Point Conception is just off of the screen.

We’re anchored in Morro Bay (13 feet, mud), listening to
Jazz music and enjoying our morning coffee. It’s drizzly outside and we’re
surrounded by sea otters and seals. We would just be rounding Point Conception right
now if we were still on the water and right now it’s supposedly gusting to 30
around the Point. Practicality won out, and I think we’re both pretty glad for
the outcome.