The weekend before I had put my newly repaired dinghy in the water and ran the dink around the marina and the channel for an hour getting the feel of it and how it handled.  I have never had a dinghy before so I thought I should try it out before committing someone else to a ride in it.  I figured, how hard can it be?

My ride started off badly because when I put the 4-stroke outboard into gear that first time I forgot to throttle down from the rabbit icon to the turtle icon, so the dink reared up – obscuring my view – and took off at high speed.  I shot out of my slip, ricocheted off the guest dock, bounced back into the channel, roared off towards an expensive looking yacht, and did a few frantic wheelies until I managed to kill the engine.  Not a very auspicious start.  However, after about an hour of alternating between careening and stalling, I figured I had the hang of it and returned my dink to my dock.  I was ready to run around Alameda over the coming weekend.

I had previously asked a delivery skipper in my marina for local advice on entering Ballena Bay and we went over the charts together.  He indicated my route and said I had to hug the outside of the breakwater all the way down the channel until I could turn into the marina.  That was the safest way because of shallow waters all around that bay.

I called the Ballena Bay marina on Friday to get my assigned slip and the harbormaster said I should head straight down the main channel, pass the first 4 docks, and we were the end-tie on the fifth dock to port. She said if I hit the fuel dock then I had gone too far.

Ballena Bay marina - Google Earth

Annie arrived Friday night and we carefully went over my NOAA nautical charts, examining our intended route and studying a satellite photo of the Ballena Bay marina that I found on Google Earth.  I am always extremely cautious when traveling somewhere that I have never been, and always carefully examine my charts.  I also like everyone on board to know where we are going and how to get there and back using the official NOAA charts.  Careful navigation is critical whether you are out to sea, coastal cruising, or running around the San Francisco Bay.  At any rate, I take it very seriously.

SATURDAY

We slept on the boat and were up early Saturday morning.  Well, we meant to be up very early but only roused ourselves around 9:00am.  Typically the mornings are wonderful in the south bay, with gentle morning light and absolute calm weather.  And getting out of the slip in the early morning is usually pretty simple – untie the boat, give the boat a gentle shove backwards and out of the slip she glides.  Not this morning – the wind was blowing hard enough that Annie couldn’t hold the boat against the port dock finger.  I cant back out when the boat is against the starboard finger because the solar panels – which the previous owner extended 2 feet off starboard – would bash into the piling at the end of the dock and be smashed as I back out, so I have to back out as close to the port finger as possible.

Annie couldn’t hold the boat against the port finger with the wind trying to knock her off her feet, so I jumped off the boat to help, but even with 2 of us we were struggling to hold the boat.  Eventually with lots of semi-helpful suggestions yelled back and forth we got the boat going backwards against the port finger enough so that we could both leap on board, and I hit reverse.  We were free.

We motored up the bay with the wind howling thru the rigging.  As we approached the San Mateo Bridge heading for the Bay Bridge, it didn’t ease my tension any when the Coast Guard came on the radio and put out a high winds alert for the area and warned – All Mariners exercise extreme caution in the region of the San Mateo Bridge.  Any warm fuzzy feeling I had about Freedom and being Out On The Bay promptly evaporated.

It took 3½ hours to motor against the current and against the winds to Ballena Bay.  The winds were still so high as we approached the marina that I decided that we should anchor outside the marina until the winds abated.  I was reluctant to go into an unknown marina in a fat trimaran with high winds blowing me around.  But incredibly the winds suddenly died to nothing as we approached the marina buoys and by the time we turned down the marina’s main channel, it was dead calm.  We counted off the docks and identified our berth.  I continued down the channel to the fuel dock, did a pirouette, came back up the channel and docked facing the exit with my starboard against the dock.  Annie jumped off and secured the bow while I leapt off the stern and tied that off.  It was around 1:00pm Saturday and we were safely docked.

We only had Saturday and Sunday for our adventure, so without much ado we grabbed money, camera, sweaters, and drinks… locked up the boat and headed out for the afternoon to see Alameda’s famous Victorian homes.

ALAMEDA’s  VICTORIANS

Well, this is art decor - but a beautiful example

The city of Alameda was founded in 1853 and has a population of around 73,000 living on the island today.  A Victorian home should have a minimum of 7 colors, they say, and Alameda has the highest concentration of Victorian homes with over 3000 Painted Ladies built during the 1800s. It is said that Alameda has more pre-1906 earthquake era homes than any other city in the Bay Area.

(Alameda is also famous for its Fourth of July parade which is one of the largest and longest in the country.  It features homemade floats, classic cars, motorized living room furniture, fire breathing dragons, marching bands and lots of enthusiastic people. The parade route is about 3 miles long.  This parade is going on my list of places to visit for next year’s July 4^th).

We went by the harbormaster’s office and picked up a flier that had a rough map of Alameda about the size of a postcard with the borders of the flier taken up with advertising… you know, the kind they give tourists.  The harbormaster marked the map with various places of interest and we walked out of the marina up to Central Ave and turned right towards Alameda’s historic downtown following the route marked on our trusty map.  Having a digital camera means you can be trigger happy and I snapped every lovely home we came across.  We saw whole streets of gorgeous homes, all beautifully painted, with intricate and delicate embellishments.  I snapped away happily.  I had done some research online and I specifically wanted to see a special house that looked stunning online.  We walked and walked until we reached the Meyer House in Alameda Ave.  Aaaaaarrrggh – that wasn’t it – how did I mess that up??  The Meyer House is all white!!!  Well, maybe it is 7 shades of white, but who can tell white from white in stark sunlight.  Annie said that maybe they were base painting the house with primer getting it ready for its 7+ colors…..  but I would not be mollified.

Annie sitting on a carriage stop - with ring for tying horses

We continued on down Alameda Ave until we reached the historic city section.  By this time we had been walking for over 3 hours and we were hungry and thirsty.  We stopped for falafels at a little Mediterranean eatery and the food was delicious.  Then Annie spotted a museum which we visited.  They had a wonderful collection of Victorian artifacts as well as a glass cabinet displaying beautifully beaded women’s purses.  Grandma’s beaded purse used to be tossed out as too old fashioned but today they cost a fortune on eBay.

Grandma's beaded purses

The woman in the store suggested we walk down to San Jose and Willow where a stunning example of a Victorian home stood on the corner. We followed her suggestion and after another half hour of walking there it was!!!  The beauty I had seen on the internet.  What a gorgeous gorgeous example of a Victorian home – covered in color, resplendent in embellishments, and standing tall and proud on the corner.  All the exquisite homes on Alameda pale in comparison to this one.  I stood and stared in wonder.  After four hours of walking my feet ached, my back ached… actually my whole body ached, but it was all worth it.  This is a fabulous example of a Painted Lady and a must see for any visitor to the island.

close up detail

more exquisite detail

By now the sun was low, the pain in my feet was high, my digital camera’s battery was running low and I was ready to head for the boat at high speed.  Neither of us relished the 5 mile walk back to the marina and so it was that by some miracle Annie spotted a taxi just then.  We hailed it and to our great relief it stopped.  Within 10 minutes we were back on the boat and I was flat on my back with my aching feet held in the air, draining the engorged blood out of them.  Oh my god but they hurt.  I keep forgetting that at my age I should be wrapped in a shawl, sitting on a rocker watching the sun set every evening.  Well almost….

Annie and I had talked earlier about crashing the party that night at the yacht club around the corner and checking out the sailors, but just the thought of putting any further pressure on my aching, swollen soles was enough to put me off.  I lay flat on the bunk, feet in the air, and complained until Annie shoved 2 Ibuprofen at me to shut me up.

ALAMEDA  ISLAND  CIRCUMNAVIGATION

SUNDAY

Sunday morning dawned beautiful and calm.  My feet didn’t hurt anymore!!!  What bliss.  I sat in the cockpit watching the morning’s activity as Annie cooked up a mouthwatering breakfast.  It’s a busy little marina where they obviously have a training school on Boat Handling because boats went up and down the channels, backing up, docking, turning, and maneuvering busily.

A monohull came down the channel towards me and someone called out for a 160 degree turn.  160 degrees, I mused, such a precise metric?  Not 180 or 360 but 160?  How peculiar.  I watched interestedly to see what would happen.  The helmsman executed a neat 360 and everyone hi-fived him.  I’m guessing that all of the crew on that boat failed Geometry at school.

Then a mature woman and her man came down the channel in a dinghy, the kind of dinghy that has seats and a steering column in the center of the boat (as opposed to mine where you steer the boat by turning the outboard’s handle).  She was in the seat with both hands on the wheel giving the impression that she was steering.  However, husband was sitting on the port pontoon with his right arm extended holding the steering wheel.  He was making very forceful turning moves and was clearly in control of the dinghy.  Suddenly she threw up her hands, said some choice words to hubby, gave up fighting his overbearing control, and released the wheel.  Unfortunately she lost that round because he simply took over control of the wheel which is what he wanted all along.  Why do men do that to women?  More to the point, why do women let men do that to them??  Assuming she can steer a car down a busy freeway at 65mph, why would he think she is incapable of steering a dinghy down a quiet channel at 3mph?  In fact, she is probably also capable of doing a perfect 160.

The kids on the boat next to mine are having such fun swinging around in the bosun’s chair that their dad rigged for them.  Their happy laughter is such a delight.  I must remember the bosun chair trick the next time my grandchildren visit me on my boat.

The channel looked much wider this morning than when I came in yesterday until I realized that all the catamarans and trimarans that clogged the channel yesterday were all out sailing.  When you have multihulls on the end-ties of the docks, each extending 25 to 30 feet into the channel, then your nice wide channel suddenly becomes very constricted as you lose 60ft.  This marina has an astonishing amount of mulithulls in it.  A 40ft Norseman came by and the skipper yelled out that the boat went to weather very well for a catamaran.  I immediately experienced severe pangs of “go-to-weather” envy.  My trimaran thinks that “go to weather” means find a sunny spot on the Bay and anchor!

The start of our circumnavigation of Alameda island

Around Sunday noon Annie and I pored over my NOAA charts examining the island.  According to the chart the channel was deep enough all along its length such that we could circumnavigate the island in the dinghy if we wanted to.  We decided to try.   Little did we both realize at the time, but the circumnavigation distance is over 18 miles!

As I placed my precious Charts back into the navigation station Annie laughingly picked up the tourist flier we used yesterday with the rough map of Alameda.  The map is not drawn to scale, and is not drawn very precisely in general outline either, but Annie said that it would be our chart as she laughingly tucked it into her pocket.

Map of Alameda, credits:  http://gotoes.org/kayaktours/20070128_CircumnavigateAlameda/

We dropped the dinghy in the water at which point I noticed that I hadn’t pumped the pontoons very firmly, or they had lost air.  In any case they were not as taut as I would have liked.  I dug out my foot pump that had never been used and found the obvious reason for this – I couldn’t find the connector that joined the pump hose to the pontoon valve.  Annie said, What are we going to do about this?  And I said, Nothing, just don’t sit on the pontoons.  And I flung the oars in the dinghy for good measure.

Annie insisted that we visit the fuel dock and fill the gasoline canister.  I was sure we would have enough gas for the afternoon but Annie was insistent.  As we dinghied down to the fuel dock I mentioned casually that I didn’t have much experience with dinghies and so she should be prepared for unexpected maneuverings.

We came up to the fuel dock calmly enough giving the false impression that I had the dinghy under control.  Annie crouched ready to exit the dinghy in a dignified way, and tie up.  I put the outboard into neutral but unfortunately I pushed the handle too far back and it clicked into reverse.  The dinghy started backwards.  Realizing my mistake I quickly pulled the lever forward but over-corrected again and the dinghy lurched forward in gear and t-boned the dock heavily.  I quickly rammed the lever into reverse again.  The sudden forward jolt coupled with the rapid backwards movement caused Annie to squawk and fall over backwards into the dinghy.  I did the only logical thing – I clutched my sides and rolled around hooting with laughter.

At the next attempt to dock Annie had completely lost faith in my dinghy handling ability and flung herself out of the dinghy before we even made contact with the dock.  We tied up, filled the gasoline container, and took off again down the channel somewhat more sedately I thought, with Annie firmly wedged up front not trusting me to get us down even the main channel unscathed.

In my defense I said contritely, Well I did warn you that I didn’t have much dinghy experience.  Last week was the first time I ever handled a dinghy but I did run around the marina for at least an hour, I asserted.

Annie said, One lousy hour?!  When you mentioned you had just a little experience I thought you were being self-deprecating and humble.  I didn’t know you meant you REALLY didn’t know what the hell you were doing.

I am claiming absolute innocence on this one…. In the interests of full disclosure I did mention it, albeit vaguely, up front.

Annie said she hoped no one was filming our fuel dock fiasco because otherwise we would be on YouTube by evening and viral by tomorrow with 2 million viewings.  Not to mention them winning $10,000 for their entry of us in America’s Funniest Home Videos.

We exited the marina and began our circumnavigation in an anti-clockwise direction.  We decided we would head for the first bridge that marked the beginning (or end?) of the Oakland Channel.  At that point we would see how long it took and decide to go forward or turn back.  The bridge seemed a long way away but we reached it in 30 minutes and decided to proceed.

We would go to Coast Guard Island and then decide if we wanted to turn back or proceed.  We reached the CGI in the next 30 minutes and decided to proceed.

We would go to Jack London Square and then decide if we wanted to proceed or turn back.  When we got to JLS we had been in the dink for about 1½ hours.  Annie hauled out her postcard sized tourist map of the island and we decided that as close as we could tell from that particular map, we were more or less half way around the island.  At this point we could go forward or retrace our steps to the marina.  We palpated the pontoons gently and decided to go forward.

As we made our way down the Oakland Channel towards the open Bay the chop increased significantly to the point where Annie suggested we don our life jackets, which we did.  Water was slopping into the dinghy at the rate of about a ½ a bucket per splash and very soon I was sitting in 6 inches of water.  However, the buoy to the entrance of the channel was just ahead egging us onwards so we decided that we would round the buoy/point and then decide if we would proceed or turn and run back down the channel.

At this stage we also decided we should start bailing.  Annie was wearing a baseball cap which I considered using as a bailing cup over protestations from Annie.  We were both wearing bras which gave us another 4 cups to bail with, but then Annie pulled out her little water bottle and we decided to try that first.  Annie couldn’t help because she couldn’t reach behind me so I steered with one hand and bailed with the other.  I was almost up to my waist in water and the gas tank was semi-submerged.  With the water coming in at the rate of ½ a bucket per splash and me bailing at the rate of one little water bottle at a time, it was a bit of a losing battle.  But I persisted.

I was hugging the shoreline so I figured we weren’t really in deathly danger.  Absolute worst case would be that the dinghy sank and we had to swim for the shore 40ft away.  And then we would use my iPhone which was sealed in a plastic bag to call 911.  No problem.

Eventually we rounded the point and were now in the open Bay.  Now the chop had turned to swells that hit us broadside as we turned south.  The good news was that the sea wasn’t pouring into the dinghy anymore.  The bad news was that we were rolling sideways over the swells which could tip the dinghy.

Annie suggested we “run like hell” for the marina.  I palpated the pontoons again which felt to me somewhat limper than 2 hours ago – but maybe it was just my overactive imagination.  The dinghy’s “run-like-hell” flat-out speed was rather more of a waddle as we rolled over the swells, which considering my lack of skills was probably just as well.

Note to self:  buy a hand pump for the dinghy, with all appropriate connections.

Since we were so near the shoreline, Annie was crouched in the front of the dinghy keeping a watch for submarine pipelines, sunken hazards, submerged rocks, and sandbars – or more accurately, mud bars.  I continued to bail and steer.

We saw another point up ahead and decided that must be the final point and then we would see the marina.  The broadside swells were somewhat unnerving as we flopped over them.

We rounded the point and saw another point up ahead and decided that that must be the final point before the marina.

We rounded that point and saw yet another point up ahead and decided that that absolutely must be the final point before the marina.

I had managed to get ahead with the bailing and was down to just 2 inches and decided I could tolerate sitting in that for another hour. My skin was all crinkly with sitting in sea water for so long, so I can now categorically state without a shadow of doubt that the southern regions do not like being submerged in sea water for extended periods.

We rounded the point and saw yet another f%#$ing point up ahead.  There was no sign of the elusive breakwater.  We were nonplussed – the distance from buoy to breakwater hadn’t looked so great on the NOAA chart this morning?

I mused aloud, I wonder where we are right now?  At this stage Annie pulled out her now incredibly soaked tatty tourist map that we had used as our “chart”, pointed to a soggy spot and declared firmly – We are right here!  It was such a ludicrous gesture that we both burst out laughing and couldn’t stop.  We laughed until the tears ran down our cheeks and we thought we would wet ourselves.  I was fine with that since I had been sitting in a pool of sea water for hours anyway, so who would be able to tell the difference?!

We dinghied onward in our now stalwart fashion, but every time we looked at each other we would lose control and clutching our sides we would roll with laughter all over again.  The contrast between our careful perusal of the NOAA charts this morning, and the incredibly soggy tourist map that Annie held was so vast that we couldn’t stop laughing.

We finally rounded a point and there was the marina in the distance!  What a welcome sight.  We cut across Ballena Bay heading directly for the marina – no fussing around following the breakwater this time!

Once we were well out and angling across Ballena Bay, the swells became fairly large following seas – relative to a dinghy’s size anyway.  We were doing some serious surfing.  Annie was looking behind to warn me of large swells while I concentrated on the front so that we didn’t get tipped over since it was now a very long swim to shore.  Then Annie raised the question of me dumping us in the drink by mistake.  I pooh-poohed that on the grounds that I had so much experience in dinghy handling by now that I was practically an expert.  Annie snorted – You have already admitted to only 1 hour last week and 2 hours today giving you a total of 3 hours experience.  Expert my ass!  Its just plain dumb luck that you haven’t tipped us into the sea already.  But I staunchly defended my Expert label and refused to concede on that point.

There were 2 yachts further out into the bay and as we surfed past them they both turned and followed us.  I maintained that they had been lost and were only too pleased to see someone who obviously knew the way and could lead them back to the marina.  Annie maintained that they were so shocked to see 2 women in a dinghy come surfing past them, that they decided to follow us and render assistance when I dunked us in the sea.  Well, I might have to concede that point to Annie, albeit reluctantly, because they followed us to the marina and then fell off when we were safely inside.

All in all it took over 3½ hours to circumnavigate Alameda Island in the dinghy.  It is an 18 mile circuit and an exciting adventure but not recommended for the fainthearted.

HOMEWARD BOUND

We got back to the boat around 4pm Sunday afternoon, hauled up the dinghy, cast off, and headed out while we were still both soaking wet.  During the trip back home we took turns to go below and clean up.

We got back to my home marina around 8pm Sunday night, exhausted but exhilarated.

It was a fabulous weekend.  Huge fun.  And Annie and I got on like a house on fire.  We found we are both Geminis we were born just one day apart, she on the 25^th and me on the 26^th.  I want it to go on record here that Annie is the older of the two of us – okay, its only by 24 hours but details like that are important to a woman.

Annie and I have the same sense of humor, and we laughed a lot.  We like the same music, and she can cook like a dream!  And both of us were happy to exit unwise marriages – good solid common ground there.

Annie is a good foil for me – I seldom think before I leap.  Annie wisely suggested filling up the dinghy gas tank, which never even occurred to me, and we would definitely have run out of fuel when surfing out in the bay had we not filled up.  That tank had just a few cups of gas left over when we got back home… although we did have the oars… and a very long row home.

She also suggested putting on our PFDs rather than wait until I dumped us in the drink and we had to swim for them.

And rather than motor majestically down the center of the channel in my little dink, she suggested I should hug the shoreline to minimize our swim to shore should I sink us.

And to seal my iPhone in a plastic bag should we need it at any time during the afternoon – it’s not as though we had an EPIRB handy in the dink.

I know that I tend to carefully study my charts for ages, and review my route with local experienced skippers, listen to their advice and take all the precautions they suggest – but otherwise I tend to live in the moment.  Annie is more practical than me.  I am boat safety conscious, and Annie is people safety conscious.

I asked Annie to write down a few of her thoughts on the weekend for my blog.  She said that any invitation from me to go boating for a weekend can be covered in just 5 words….. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Fireworks in the Bay

INDEPENDENCE DAY – and a long weekend – Sat, Sun, and Monday.

There are various sites in San Francisco Bay where you can anchor overnight that will give you an excellent view of the spectacular fireworks displays along the various waterfronts on Sunday night, the 4^th of July.

Annie and Darlene said they were available to anchor out with me, so the long weekend was a Go.  Annie was in charge of the menu, while I spent the week preparing the boat.

I checked that the anchor and windlass worked, checked the batteries, filled the water tanks, emptied the toilet holding tank, cleared off the stuff cluttering the guest bed, cleaned the windscreens, got new batteries for the portable radio, bought a ton of Cokes, fetched my Mac so that we could play DVDs, and just generally puttered around.

I also dropped the dinghy onto the dock intending to inflate the slackened pontoons but once I had the dinghy down where I could see it properly, I noticed that the transom had come away from the port pontoon.  I visited West Marine for friendly advice on how I could repair and re-glue the separation.  The glue alone was $128 but the advice was free – they suggested I take it to an inflatable repair facility.  That was a blow – I was expecting us to have a runabout for the weekend.

Transom coming unglued from the pontoon

Annie and Darlene arrived early Saturday morning and we cast off the dock lines and motored into a clear, warm, calm day.  No wind.  But then again, there is never any wind early in the morning in the Bay, however, around noon up comes a howling banshee of a wind as regular as clockwork.  Well, maybe “howling” is overstating it somewhat, but a solid 20 knots with sharp gusts blows thru.

Under the Bay Bridge, Darlene, and San Francisco in the background

We motored calmly up the Bay and Annie mentioned that the SFWeather said that there would be a Small Craft Warning in the afternoon.  Darlene made a joke to the effect that we weren’t a small craft so we didn’t have to worry.  Right.  As we motored under the Bay Bridge and moved out from the protection of the highrise buildings of the City to our left, we were quite suddenly slammed with high wind and sloppy waves that splashed over the bow and onto my clean windscreen utterly obliterating our view.  Darlene did a rapid disappearing trick behind cover to avoid being soaked through.

We weren’t sailing so we didn’t have to rush to reduce sail and we weren’t in any real danger, but the radio crackled on and on with Pan-Pan calls from the Coast Guard asking sailors to look out for a craft overturned near Berkeley, or a boat taking on water near the island, or a vessel sinking near….   Seems that if you were a small craft, you were in real trouble.

Alcatraz coming up

We bounced thru the bay being doused in spray.  We passed Alcatraz, and the Golden Gate Bridge to our left, and finally after a total of 4 hours of motoring we reached Richardson Bay.  I had been told to anchor near Cove Rock because with my shallow draft we would comfortably manage the 7ft depth.  We entered the Sausalito bay eagerly looking out for the rock.  It turns out that Cove Rock is actually a lump below the water and all you can see is a very large bouy marking the spot.

The Golden Gate bridge to port

Since I was the only one who sort of knew how the windlass worked, I put Darlene on the helm and we went thru our hand signals – Stop, go left, go right, go forward, go back, and power back hard to check the holding.  You have to have hand signals to impress the watching masses.  It doesn’t matter how badly you mess up, but if you hold up a fist (the military equivalent of Stop) and the helmsman responds by putting the boat in neutral, then everyone watching goes Aaaaah!  You just look professional – even when you aren’t.

Then Annie and I went forward to drop the anchor.  The first time we dropped it and Darlene powered back the boat, the anchor did not bite and we hopped backwards.  We lifted the anchor and tried again.  This time the anchor bit and held under full reverse power.

Then Annie and I tried to connect the bridle to the anchor rode with mixed success.  The anchor hangs off the middle ama which puts strain on the bow and windlass and also allows FastAlley to twirl around freely – putting further strain on the bow.  To reduce the twirling there is a bridle contraption which is a long, thick line with clips at each end another clip in the middle.  The middle clip is hanked onto the anchor chain hanging off the bow, and the two ends are connected, one each, to the port and starboard amas.  This v-shaped effect reduces twirling.  Of course it does nothing for the windage – you’re stuck with that.

Eventually Darlene at the helm got bored watching us struggling away and came up to see what the fuss was all about.  All three of us offered advice to each other on how to tie the bridle properly.  It was a hoot and I’m sure everyone watching from the houses on shore were vastly entertained with our Anchoring By Committee.  .  Eventually we got the bridle connected to the anchor, but we also had 50ft of chain out in just 7ft of water.  Basically that gave us enough scope for a hurricane!  There was no denying we were holding firm so we called it a day, retreated to the cockpit, killed the engine, and made coffee.

Sausalito with its mantle of cloud

Considering the Small Craft Warning just one mile away in the Bay, it was beautifully calm at the anchorage and the views were spectacular.  Sausalito nestles on the side of hills, and a mantle of cloud gently covered the tops.  We watched the sun set and chatted into the evening.  After dinner and a movie, I left some soft track lighting on so that we could see our way should we have to get up during the night, and we all hit the sack.

Sunday morning dawned and I shot out of bed to check my batteries.  There had been no wind during the night and so the wind generator hadn’t charged the batteries and the track lighting had run them down to a little over 12.  I switched from the wind generator to solar power and slowly my batteries came back up again.  Around noon high winds buffeted us at anchor and I gleefully switched on the wind generator and watched it rapidly top off my batteries.  Sometimes I like wind.

Annie whipping up a gourmet meal

Annie had a great menu planned and we ate generously.  We could hear the parade trumpeting thru the streets of Sausalito but we were stuck on the boat with no dinghy.

Still it was very relaxing.  Darlene bravely tried the solar shower and declared it marginal.

Anne and Darlene got energetic and started doing yoga on the tossing deck while I tried not to feel guilty at my lack of enthusiasm for exercise.

Boats started arriving in their hordes but avoided anchoring anywhere near us – because we were in such shallow water.  It was great having the waters at Cove Rock all to ourselves and not having to worry about a boat dragging into us.  Or us twirling into someone on our 50ft swing.  It got pretty crowded in the cheap seats as more and more boats arrived throughout the afternoon and anchored – way over there!

The other major consideration with a trimaran is that it is twirled around at anchor by the wind.  Monohulls with their deep keels are moved by the tides.  The bridle on my anchor stops any great swings, but the winds still have quite an impact on a shallow draft vessel with such high freeboard as my trimaran has.  So at any one time you would see all the monohulls sedately facing into the tide, and FastAlley doing a dance thru 60 degrees as the wind clocked around constantly, back and forth.  So much for the “prevailing” wind – it was gusting all over the place.

Around 9:30pm it was dark enough for the fireworks show and the skies over Sausalito lit up with color and sparkle.  Of course, my finger is somewhat slower on the camera shutter than my eye, so I got a lot of pictures of fuzzy dots on a black background.  But the show was fun to watch – it is years since I saw fireworks.

Then the two San Francisco fireworks shows started along the city waterfront but it was pretty distant and the fireworks exploded high enough that they were obscured by the marine layer.  All we could see was the rocket streaking towards the low cloud….. then nothing, just a loud bang as it exploded and the clouds turned red, green, or gold.  And the racket from the finale was something to hear – but not to see.

It was pretty cold by the end of the show so we retreated below, crawled into our snug beds, and watched a movie – The Last of the Mohicans.  It is my favorite film but I was asleep 20 minutes into the show.

This time the wind blew all night, powering up my batteries as the track lighting flattened them.  It’s a beautiful thing.

Homeward bound buoy

Monday morning dawned cold and foggy.  We lifted the anchor, un-tethered the bridle, and got underway around 9:30am.  I expected the trip back to be a hard slog against the current but there was no wind, the water was flat calm, and FastAlley flew along.  We were back at the dock by 2:00pm.

I have two wishes – I wish I had had my dinghy so that we could have run around the waterfront and followed the parade, and maybe visited all the houseboats that Sausalito is so famous for.  And I wish I had my new cockpit enclosures in place already for the long weekend.  It would have been nice to have a cozy cockpit.

…..so that just means that we will have to do this again some time!

Bay Bridge and the city

FastAlley ready for her crew to arrive

I decided to spend a few days in the Sacramento Delta and shanghai’ed a friend into coming along.   We didn’t deliberately choose this time of year, namely late Fall; it was more or less decided for us by circumstances. But the weather forecast was for calm days, highs in the mid 60’s, and most importantly, no mosquitoes because it is too late in the season for the little body snatchers.

DAY 1 We decided to travel from the marina in the south of the Bay to the Benicia Marina on the first day.  It looked do-able on the chart, but paper charts and reality are two vastly different things. We left the dock at 8:30am in incredibly calm conditions – zero wind, clear skies, flat waters.  It started out a beautiful morning.  However, it didn’t stay that way for long.   We exited the Slough and turned into the main channel of the Bay for San Francisco and pretty soon we ran into fog.  Initially we could see a few hundred yards ahead as I went downstairs to start up the radar.  But by 10:00am we were in dense fog and having to rely on the radar and horns, but it seemed we were the only ones out there!  Nevertheless we crept along because we had bridges to go under and buttresses to avoid.  We were also fighting the incoming tide and lost nearly 2 knots to the current.   With our reduced speed and the 2 knots against us, we were making poor time. As we neared San Francisco the tide turned and was going out.   Also the fog had lifted and it was now a beautiful day.  Also the tide was in our favor and we roared along as we gained +2 knots.  At noon we passed under the Oakland Bay Bridge and made our way to the San Pablo Bay – where the outgoing current was now against us again.  Our speed dropped from 9 knots to 3.8 as we clawed our way to Benicia. The Benicia Marina closed at 4:30pm and I called at 3:00pm to warn them that we would not reach them in time.  They said we should dock at their fuel dock and they would leave a key to the showers in a key slot in their office door.

Docked in Benicia Marina

We docked at Benicia Marina after 5:00pm, were showered by 6:00, and making dinner by 7:00pm.  Dinner was salmon and homemade tartar sauce, and couscous, with a mixed salad,.  It was delicious.  We decide to watch the movie Phenomenon with John Travolta, but 1/3 of the way thru the movie we switched it off and were asleep by 9:00pm. It was a long first day – I wouldn’t recommend it.  We should have broken our trip at Berkeley, or San Francisco, or Sausalito.  Anywhere would have been preferable to 9 hours slogging against the current.

DAY 2 We left the Benicia Marina dock at 10:30am.  A Delta regular walking along the docks recommended that our next stop be Rio Vista, then Walnut Grove, and then back via the Georgianna Slough. We thought we might sail calmly along the Delta in blissful silence, because we always seem to use the engine.  But the rivers in the Delta are too narrow for a 41ft boat to sail; we would be tacking every 100ft until the rig gave in or we gave in – whichever happened first.  So we motored yet again. The tide was in our favor (thank heavens) and we gained nearly 3 knots, so we were roaring along at over 9 kn.  As we neared Rio Vista we noticed tons of spiders around – flying spiders I guess because rows and rows of strands of spider web were streaming off our shrouds – actually the strands of webs were flying off anything that they connected with presumably as the spider whistled past.  And there were little spiders crawling around all over the deck – hopefully they are not poisonous or in any way unfriendly.  It feels strange, quite unnerving really, to walk around the deck and get spider webs all over your body.

Rio Vista bridge being raised 60ft to accommodate our 50ft mast

The entrance to the marina in Rio Vista is very narrow and from what we could see as we did a drive-by, it looked very narrow inside too.  FastAlley is a wide batmobile so I was nervous that we wouldn’t be able to turn and/or rotate once we were inside.  However, after crawling carefully thru the narrow entrance, we found that the transient docking area was quite substantial.

Standing next to FastAlley on the transient dock looking back at the narrow entrance to the marina

Once the boat was safely tied up, we walked the 10 minutes into downtown historic Rio Vista for dinner at Lucy’s.

Safely tied up in the transient slips of Rio Vista marina

As we strolled the area, we saw a young man from the marina restaurant setting a raccoon trap because he said a little tribe of raccoons were climbing in the restaurant garbage during the night and causing damage.  We examined his trap as he explained how he thought it would work.

Racoon cage

The next morning while my friend was in the marina gift shop they were discussing the big raccoon they had caught.  The young man had threatened to kill it when he caught it, but now that he was eyeball to eyeball with the creature, he had lost his lust to kill.  My friend suggested relocating the raccoon to a competitor’s restaurant instead – which they thought was a pretty good idea. I met a small boy about 7 years old riding his bicycle in the marina and he gave me an angelic smile as he paused to say Hello.  He added shyly, “Its been years since I’ve been here (too cute!) so I’m taking a drive down memory lane”.  I kept a straight face with some difficulty.  No doubt he was quoting his grandmother’s parting words as he rode off on his bike earlier. The marina had a tiny area for walking the dog.  It had all a male dogs favorite pee-related things – a fire hydrant, a tree stump, and a sand layer.

Self explanatory

Dog's fire hydrant

dog's tree stump

DAY 3 Left Rio Vista for Walnut Grove and again the tide is in our favor shoving us along.  We passed the town of Isleton and decided that we would visit it on our way back.  We called ahead to the Ryde Hotel for overnighting on their guest dock (with power) but we missed the hotel in our enthusiasm to reach Walnut Grove.  We went all the way to Walnut Grove and under the bridge, only to discover we had missed it 3 miles earlier.  We had to turn around, go back under the bridge, and 3 miles down the Sacramento River again.  It was a little embarrassing because the batmobile is a pretty obvious boat, and I called to the bridge asking them to open up for FastAlley.  The traffic was stopped, bells rang, the bridge lifted ponderously and we went thru.  Then we discovered we had missed the hotel and had to go back to the bridge, request they lift it, traffic was stopped, bells rang, the bridge lifted reluctantly, and we squirmed our way thru again.

1930's Ryde Hotel

It was worth it though because the Hotel is just gorgeous, and although it was closed for the winter they let us tie up to the dock for $31 and have hot showers. Because the hotel was closed, the receptionist handed us the key to the front door of the hotel and told us to make sure we locked up after we were finished showering.  Gotta love the Honor System!  The hotel has 42 rooms, a 9-hole golf course, and near enough to the historic city of Locke so that we can motor up first thing in the morning and grab a spot on the free public dock. Gorgeous gorgeous evening – warm enough for summer t-shirts, shorts.  No wind, ZERO mosquitoes, slack tide, and my friend making steak and baked potato on the BBQ.  My contribution is to hack up some tomatoes for salad.  I hate cooking.

DAY 4 Left the Ryde Hotel and made our way back upriver again to Walnut Grove and stopped at the free public dock.  Ww walked the 500-yards to the historic city of Locke which is an old city first occupied by the Chinese during the 1910’s.  The Chinese helped build the levees of the Sacramento Delta, and also farmed the land.

Building in historic Locke

Now the city of one-block is very quaint but falling down.

The main street (and only block) of Locke

I almost wish that the Locke Foundation was more active in repairing and rejuvenating Locke.  But the city may have been continuously occupied by the Chinese for the last 100 years but their wonderful architectural influence is utterly absent.  No swooping rooftops, no manicured gardens, no bright red paintwork.  Really, it just looks like any other old wooden city.  But quaint enough to be worth a visit.

ok, I know this is just too touristy for words!

We bought a delicious ice cream in the store opposite the public dock, then returned to the boat.  On the dock we passed a couple who were eating hamburgers that they said tasted fine but were overpriced – $6 for a burger and fries.   She said the hamburger hut had just opened and they were their very first customer!  They had mixed feelings about that, especially the $6.  They suggested that we should take the time to continue upriver to Sacramento old town, rather than turn around and visit Isleton.  Apparently the crime in Isleton is pretty high and its not even safe to leave the marina.

Homes lining the banks of the Sacramento River

So we cast off and continued upriver to Sacramento – but with the tide against up AGAIN it took nearly 6 hours to reach our marina where we had booked an overnight stay.  The harbormaster sounded very young – my friend on the radio asked how much it would cost and the harbormaster responded, “$1 per foot, what is your length?”  My friend responded, “41 feet”.  After a long silence the harbormaster said, “Is $1/ft too expensive?”  (So cute).  I nodded vigorously but my friend just said into the radio, “No, that’s fine”.  Gotta teach that man the value of a $1.00!  Turns out the harbormaster is very young, perhaps not even 20 yet. I must say they had the BEST showers of all the marinas I have visited so far.  The only downside was that their fuel dock where we overnighted had evenly spaced cement poles along its length, which were a real problem for the 41ft trimaran.  It was obvious that the poles were going to wreak havoc on the paintwork as the trimaran bulged out just at the point of the pole placement, and the fenders just curled around the posts and exposed the boat topsides to the cement poles.  We spent about an hour tying our fenders to the poles instead of to the boat.  It was a long tiring day – it took over 6 hours up the Sacramento River which twists and turns over and over, and over and over.  You have to be very aware of logs in the water and various obstructions.  Toddling along at 5 knots because of the 2 knot current against us, was very tiring.  And boring.  There is just so much excitement you can generate from miles of homes on the river bank.  And miles of bushes.  And trees.  And boat wrecks.

Yet another wreck on the river bank....

We were hurrying – as much as the current would allow us – to get to Sacramento before 5:00pm because we knew we had to go under 2 low bridges to our marina, and the bridge operators all go home at 5:00pm.  We called ahead when the bridges were in sight and the (first) lift bridge lifted 60 feet and we went under then scooted along to the swing bridge.  The operator there kindly opened for us and as we exited the clock said 5:01pm – made it!  I thanked the operator for staying late for us and he waved.

Swing bridge starting to open....

..... and swing bridge open

DAY 5

We used that fabulous shower again this morning – I couldn’t resist.  Today we will tie up at the Sacramento old town public dock and explore the historic city. We are both exhausted so we will stay over another night at the dock and move on tomorrow – with the tide !! But then we revisited the boat logs and discovered that we didnt have time to spend a day in Sacramento if we wanted to get back home by Sunday night.  In fact, according to our calculations we would be travelling for most of the next 3 days. So we turned back for home – motoring steadily along – with the tide sometimes in our favor and sometimes shoving us backwards. Sacramento was too far to travel – it took all of the day to reach it from Walnut Grove, and then all of the next day to get back to WG.

DAY 6

We overnighted at the Ryde Hotel again, then headed downriver again, giving Rio Vista a miss and heading for Benicia.

DAY 7

 We overnighted at Benicia and then headed for San Francisco and the south of the Bay. We should have taken the advice of the local that we met on the Benicia docks that first day in the Delta – and turned at Walnut Grove and returned via the Georgina Slough – rather than taking the hamburger couple’s advice and wasting 2 days slogging to Sacramento.  If you have a limited timeframe for touring the Delta, you dont want to travel from Walnut Grove to Sacramento – it is just too time consuming.

SUMMARY

Travelling the Delta in late Fall/early Winter is the perfect time to visit.  It is not staggeringly hot, but mildly sunny.  There are no mosquitoes.  Fewer crowds in the towns.  Open and available docks for overnighting.  And very little traffic on the river.  If you can delay your trip till the latter part of the year, you will enjoy it more.  Well, we did. And the river is usually 12- to 15-feet deep so most sailboats can travel the rivers without too much fear of running aground.   Of course if you have a high speed power boat then you can travel the full length of the Sacramento River and many of the Sloughs and still have time for a detour to San Francisco.  However, for the owners of waddling sailboats, you dont want to travel more than 3 hours a day before stopping. This was definitely a fun one-week trip.  I highly recommend it.  

AN INTERESTING POINT OF VIEW…. We noticed that the marinas in the Sacramento Delta have floating docks with the poles standing about 30 feet high.  Says a lot about how high the Sacramento River gets when subjected to lots of rain and flooding.  Maybe that contributes to all those wrecks along the river?

Note the 30-ft floating docks - got to be quite unnerving to visit your boat and see it floating that high up the pole.

I got a new contract in San Jose so I moved my boat from Long Beach up to its new berth in the San Francisco Bay.  I hired a skipper, Nikolay, because (a) I have never done the trip and (b) it is September and the weather forecasts were for hazardous weather, and (c) I am conservative when it comes to putting my boat out there – I like to know that at least someone knows where we are going besides the autopilot.

I also convinced a friend to act as crew.  Been-there done-that with the the 3-hours on and 3-hours off shifts.  I prefer the 3-hours on and 6-hours off type of shift.

The Skipper arrived late Thursday night and slept on the boat, as did we 2 crew.  We were up at 5:00am  making coffee and we threw off the dock lines around 6:00am Friday morning, September 25^th 2009.  We left the dock on a perfectly still morning, the water calm, the weather clear.

Skipper and crew in the cockpit watching out for traffic

Nikolay wanted to get a very early start in order to round Pt. Conception 22 hours later, around 3:00am Saturday morning when the weather is calmest, especially in light of the storm warnings from NOAA.  The early hour would also avoid the vicious Santa Ana winds that blow this time of year, further complicating the weather.

Once outside the harbor I decided to make breakfast of scrambled egg and bacon.  I think the bacon was a little off because a few hours after eating, and on calm seas, I got pretty squeamish.  I developed a low grade headache and lay down to sleep.  Much to my chagrin I slept most of the day away only waking in the very late afternoon.

We took turns standing watch Friday night and I was on at 1:00am when we were just an hour off Pt. Conception.  We had been hugging the coast all the way up, just 2 to 3 miles offshore because Nikolay said that with the topography of the land, the seas were calmest close to shore.  I woke Nikolay an hour away from Pt. Conception for the rounding.  Since the weather reports were still for high winds and high seas, I decided to hit the sack and sleep off the next few hours.

Pt. Conception was a dud – thank heavens!!  Low wind, low waves – and again we were hugging the shore.

Close inshore. And the land rolls by.....

On Saturday my stomach was considerably settled but my riend was suffering from a low grade headache and squeamishness.  He said he had felt sick on Friday but since I was down and out, he didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to burden Nikolay with being the only person available for Watch.  So he had stayed on his feet Friday while I slept it off.  So Saturday night I started the evening watch, handed over to Nikolay around 9:00pm, and Nikolay called me again around 2:00am, and I stood watch and let my friend/crew sleep thru the night.  Tit for tat.

It was a gorgeous night, with almost no wind, and only 2ft swells.  The luminescence in the sea left a glowing tail stretching out behind the boat.  When Nikolay handed over the watch to me he said that he saw some dolphins come streaking toward the boat and he thought for a moment that the boat had snagged a fisherman’s net and was dragging it along.  He was relieved it was just dolphins.

I spent my watch peering into the darkness anticipating dolphins and I wasn’t disappointed.  Soon I saw 4 tubes of light streaking towards the bow, looking for all the world like we were being attacked by multiple torpedoes.   I was dying to go upfront and peer down from the bow at the tubes of light that were the dolphins playing in the bow wave, but since I was alone on watch in the middle of the night, and my deck has no lifelines, I thought I would stay in the safety of the cockpit and just peer over the side.

Once the dolphins got tired of playing and streaked off in their luminescent tubes of light, I saw a large fish come cruising alongside the boat.  It was about 10ft long, it could have been a shark.  Its large body shape was clearly outlined in the luminescence as it moved thru the water alongside the boat.  We were doing 7 knots at the time, but the fish cruised next to the boat as though we were standing still.  It seemed to be assessing us.  Then it accelerated off into the darkness – again like we were standing still.  Quite an eerie encounter.

Standing watch as the sun sets

The next morning as the sun rose I saw dolphin coming in from every direction.  Pretty soon I was surrounded by about 50 to 60 dolphin playing in the bow wave.  It was enchanting.  I watched for some time then decided that even if  my friend was feeling sick, he really should see this so I went below to wake him up.  He was already awake and getting dressed so we went upstairs and sat on the bow and watched the dolphin. We must have sat there for about an hour in the morning sun, on the gentle sea, watching frolicking dolphins.

Later that day as we neared San Francisco the sea turned red and I noticed hordes of huge jellyfish and Man of War in the water.  The skipper said their numbers were concentrated because they were feeding on the algae or bacteria (I forget which) that was turning the sea red.  Fascinating.

Outside the Golden Gate the wind was low and the sea calm, but once we passed under the bridge the wind screamed by and the wave chop was considerable.

Approaching the Golden Gate bridge (note the container ship)

Also you are competing for space with multiple large container ships, so that is unnerving if it’s the first time.  Fortunately Long Beach has a container ship at every turn in the channel so I am used to their incredible size – still you don’t want to be run down by one.  We maneuvered carefully around them.

San Francisco to starboard

Once we were inside the Bay we turned and headed for our marina.  We were hoping that we would reach the marina in daylight but the sun set just 30 minutes before we reached the marina so we were left maneuvering in the pitch dark.  This was not such an issue in the main channel that was clearly marked, however, once we reached the side channel in which my marina was located, the channel markers were few and far between.  And since I had never been to the marina before, we were riding blind.  I was very grateful that we were there at high tide because we needed the extra water under the keel.  We saw a blinking red light down the side channel and went carefully towards it, but at times there was only 3ft of water under us!!  Fortunately my trimaran only draws 2 ft, but you never know what may be sticking up out of the sand that could poke a hole in the boat.  It was a harrowing and a verrrrrry slow and careful drive down the channel to the marina entrance.

We reached the dock on Sunday night at 8:45pm.

]]> http://fastalley.com/2009/10/01/trip-from-longbeach-to-redwood-city-2009/feed/ 0 http://fastalley.com/2009/05/30/puttering-around-long-beach-harbor/ http://fastalley.com/2009/05/30/puttering-around-long-beach-harbor/#comments Sun, 31 May 2009 04:45:57 +0000 admin http://fastalley.com/?p=213

White's Island

Long Beach harbor presents a variety of Places To Go and Things To Do.  My favorite ToDo is anchoring at White’s Island for the day or the weekend.

Docked as I was at the top of the main (Cerritos) Channel near the Henry Ford Bridge, it was a 45 minute motor down the channel to the harbor wall.  But what a fascinating trip – a variety of sights and sounds to intrigue and awe the grandkids.

Most importantly I tied the grandkids to the boat as soon as they boarded.  The tie was attached to their life jackets and to jacklines on the deck, especially necessary on my trimaran that has a 41 by 22 ft deck upon which the kids kept running around at high speed.  I could just see one of them launching overboard…..

Tied to the jacklines

Exhausting trying to keep track of each running kid – eventually I gave up and declared their safety the responsibility of the parents and I would take care of the boat.

As we move away from the dock and down the channel there are huge container ships on the port side.  My sailboat looks so teeny as we motor past and the kids stand agog.

The cruise ships that leave from Long Beach tower 10-stories above us as we continue motoring down the channel towards the fish factory where the seals hang out.

The seals mistakenly thought that we had food for them, so they packed the sides of the boat barking incessantly as they demanded fish.  When they discovered we lacked what they wanted they lost interest and returned to barking at the fishermen who were working on the wharf.

The seals are enormous – much larger than the little harbor seals we typically see swimming around.  The kids loved the size of them.  The current in the channel pushed us down, so I had to turn the boat around about 6 times, and drive up the channel a short distance so that the kids could gawk at the seals some more.

Near the mouth of the harbor is the bait shop, a floating barge anchored conveniently for fishermen near the exit from the harbor to the open seas.  We stopped and picked up a load of live fish which we put into a cooler box I had borrowed from a friend.  My friend was not amused to hear that his cooler box had been reassigned The Bait Box.

The anchored Bait Barge

The grandkids were enthralled with the little fish swimming around in the (new) bait box and kept dipping their hands in and grabbing them.  By the time Bryan looked in the box to start fishing, all the fish were almost dead.  He cut them up as bait but Bryan had entertained fond thoughts of fishing with Live bait.  Oh well, we dont always get what we want.

After the bait barge we followed the harbor wall southwards around Terminal Island, heading for White’s Island.  This part is rather boring for kids because it takes about an hour to reach the island.

Once we were anchored the kids could untie themselves from the jacklines while on the deck.  The large deck presented a fabulous runaround field – huge by kids standards with ladders up to the “roof”, hatches they can jump thru into the interior of the boat only to emerge moments later as they pop out the companionway.  I figured if they went over the side then their yelling would alert us, and they still had their life jackets on.  The kids had a ball running all over the boat exploring every inch.

Kevin and Bryan primed the BBQ while we girls put out the snacks and salads.  The kids were so excited that we abandoned trying to get food down them in any kind of formal way.  We just let them gallop past and handed them their food as they ran by.

The huge deck of the trimaran

Bryan got tired of fishing so Kevin cut the bait into small pieces and the grandkids threw the pieces to the hovering seagulls.  Within moments we were surrounded by screeching squawking gulls demanding attention – and fish!  Once again the grandkids were enthralled as they tossed pieces of fish to the hovering gulls.

Gulls diving for bait bits

We upped anchor around 4:00pm and took the shortcut around the inside of Terminal Island, passing under the Henry Ford Bridge back to our dock.

Approaching Henry Ford Bridge

Back at the dock, Bryan tried his hand at fishing again and caught a 8-inch bony fish.  He tossed it back after the kids had examined it minutely, and I had assured him the fish in the channel probably glowed in the dark as they peer out their third eye!  Back it went.

By the time my sons and their family left the boat, I was pooped.  I crawled into bed and slept like the dead.  The next day Bryan told me that Samuel had slept over and the kids were so hyper that they kept bouncing off the walls until nearly midnight.  By that time Bryan and Alex had lost their sense of humor completely.

Glad I was snoring happily in a quiet bed.

Sundry photos from the day on the water….

Zoe protecting (some) of dad's back with SPF cream

Kevin, Heather, and baby Judah

Bryan with his catch

The cockpit is roomy enough to place 2 large reclining chairs

Heather, with Samuel and Genesus

Mom closeup

TRANSMISSION ISSUES…..

On our trip up the Baja to Ensenada, it seemed the transmission had failed at the moment that we docked in Ensenada.  One minute I was carefully maneuvering in a tight channel to dock the fat trimaran, and the next I was hurtling toward the dock at high speed.   As I frantically tried to unstick the accelerator, the skipper leapt off the bow onto the dock and fended off the boat.  I hit the Kill switch, the engine died, and we tied up.  We both assumed that I had done something stupid and lost control, but as it turned out, at that moment the transmission failed.  However, I didnt know that then.

A few weeks later I returned to the boat in Ensenada with my son to enjoy the boat for the weekend, but I couldnt get it into gear.  I assumed my lack of mechanical know-how was the problem, rather than the boat.

My son and I had driven down to Ensenada in my Mercedes convertible and when the Mexican harbor master saw the car he was horrified.  “Dont bring that car back to Mexico again”, he stated flatly.  Then he asked my son, “What car do you have?”.  “A Lincoln Navigator”, he replied.  The harbor master shook his head sadly.  “What else do you have?” he asked.  “My wife has a Nissan”, Kevin volunteered.  “That is better!  In future, you drive the Nissan”, said the harbor master.

I was intrigued.  “Whats wrong with driving the SLK?” I asked.  “You will get shot in Mexico for a car like that!”, he declared.  “But I felt quite safe because there are so many police all over the roads”, I said.  “Yes”, he replied, “And it is the Police who will shoot you for a car like that”.

Needless to say thereafter we went down in the Nissan.

Anyway, on subsequent visits to the boat it became obvious that far from it being my non-mechanical lack of skills, actually the boat was at fault and the hunt for the problem was on.  Once it was traced to the transmission we had to remove the engine to get at it.  Then I found there was no spare transmission in Mexico, however, there was one in Florida which I shipped to MX.  It got lost.  More money.  It got found.  It was shipped to Long Beach.  It was driven to MX.  It didnt fit.  I shipped the transmission back to Long Beach and back to Florida and tried again with another model.  The model I had in the boat was out of manufacture so I could not replace it model-for-model.  Thousands and thousands of dollars later I was at my wits end.  I had spent well over $10,000 and was not any closer to fixing the transmission.

It is just too difficult trying to coordinate activities across the border and between 1st World and 3rd World.  There are no spare parts in MX so every time the mechanic needed something, I had to buy it in the US and arrange its transport to MX.  For a huge fee naturally!!

But no matter what I did, the tranny stayed busted.  None of the tranny’s fit.  There was no other tranny is the USA till year end (my model anyway).  The old tranny was too rusted and could not be rebuilt.  And on and on…..

I was despairing – I just didn’t see how I would ever resolve this.  Every avenue I explored was a dead end.  Eventually I was seriously thinking of paying the $4000 towing fee I was quoted to tow the boat from MX to Long Beach (LB).  At least then it would be in the 1st World and more importantly, it would be where I could see what was actually being done to it.

Then suddenly a miracle happened – a man called Fred phoned me.  He said that he had heard of my trials and tribulations trying to fix the boat in Ensenada and said he was willing to help me.  He said he could fix anything and if I got him to the boat, he would fix it.

I accepted with alacrity!

FIXING THE TRANNY…..

When I got home Friday night I told my 80-year old mother who was visiting me from South Africa – “Pack!  We’re going to MX at 5:00am tomorrow”.

Saturday morning Mom and I drove to Fred’s – a darling man who lives in Long Beach (LB) -  parked my car at his place, and clambered into his truck and headed for Ensenada.  In the back of the truck Fred had 2 transmissions; one was a model that he was sure would fit, and the other was an old transmission that he saved from a sinking Bayliner.

We got to Ensenada around 11:00am Saturday morning and Fred disappeared into the engine room.  About an hour later he emerged and said that he thinks he can fix it.  I spent the rest of the day supplying him with endless cups of coffee.  He emerged Saturday night and said there were a whole lot of non-fitting parts – pieces that should slot into each other but don’t – but he still thinks he can fix it.  The next day he worked on it all Sunday from sun up to sundown with regular runs to the local MX Home Depot to buy stuff.  And tons of coffee.  By Monday morning he fired up the engine and it coughed into life.

Huge excitement!  But the thing wouldn’t go into gear.  Or rather, it went into first and stayed there.  Fred ducked back down into the engine room.  By this time I have learned that his last name is Sweers and that there are a group of islands near Australia somewhere called Sweers Islands, which he mused could be named after his wandering great grandfather.  By Monday afternoon we fired up the engine again – or Fred did – and we cut loose from the dock.  The first time this had happened in nearly 6 months!!

We took the boat out for a test run and it worked just fine – a little sticky on the throttle movement but working.  The propeller is now the wrong size for the torque but Fred said if I keep the revs down around 1800 (about 5 knots) I would make it to LB.

As Fred went to turn of the engine I yelped – “Stop!  Don’t turn it off.  I’m taking the boat home.  Right Now.  Back to American waters where I can keep and eye on it.  DO NOT turn off that key”.

Fred said he’s not coming with me because 3 weeks earlier that he was rescued 100 miles offshore on a sinking sailboat that got rolled in a huge storm at sea and had lost its mast, etc. and now 3 weeks later his nervous system is still shaking.  He had told us the story over the last 3 days and I must say I don’t blame him.  I said, No problem, I’ll go get me a skipper.

So I took my passport, my Mom’s passport, and the boat papers to the Dockmaster and checked us all out of the country.  The Dockmaster called around all over, but no luck, not a skipper to be found.  I decided I would take the boat myself.

I have sailed in and out of San Diego about 8 times.  The first 6 times as crew and the last 2 times as Owner.  I check with the insurance and they say you have to have a skipper if you are doing this for the FIRST time.  I figure this is my 9th time so I’m covered.

FROM MEXICO TO SAN DIEGO…..

I asked Mom if she wanted to come with me.  I told her straight – “I’m a novice skipper so I might kill us both, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to come with me”.  Mom said – “Honey, I’m 80 years old, what do I care, of course I’ll come”.  I was HUGELY grateful to have my prayer warrior Mom with her army of guardian angels on board.

So we cast off at 5:00pm Monday evening as the sun was setting, and headed out to sea.  Once we hit the open bay the waves started coming over the bow and I realized that I had forgotten to bring all the lines in.  I had gotten out of practice!  I was horrified.  If one of the lines went under the boat and wrapped around the propellor, or worse ripped it off leaving a gaping hole in the boat, I would sink us right there in the bay.

So I crawled forward on my belly, with the waves breaking over me, and with my foot jammed under the lower stanchion for support and reached for the trailing bow line.  I almost got washed off the deck but I got hold of the line and tied it down.

When I crawled back into the cockpit, utterly soaked, eyes wide, and teeth chattering with fright, I thought – How bloody stupid Julia!!!  I had on no lifejacket, I wasn’t tied to the boat, the waves were breaking over me, and worse I had the boat set on autopilot and heading straight out to sea with an 80 year-old great grandmother on board that had never been on a small craft before.  Its stupid mistakes like that that kill people.  I determined that from then on I would act safely and make a list of Things To Do BEFORE I leave port – not when I’m bouncing out to sea already.

The first 3 hours were awful.  The waves came over the bow and into the cockpit and there was water everywhere.  Mom said she definitely was not going to go cruising with me!!  Never Ever.  I assured her that usually sailing is a lot of fun but Mom wasn’t having any.  To be honest, it was pretty rough.  Mom who usually has the stomach of an ox got seasick and so did I.  I threw up everything in my tummy over the side until I was just heaving.  Mom tossed her food too.  She was not amused.

However the boat behaved beautifully tearing along without a care.  She hummed along at 5 knots, and I tidied up the deck and below decks.  I got a comforter for Mom and we wrapped ourselves up all snug in the cockpit.

The trip was uneventful – except for my stupid forgetfulness right up front with the waves washing over me.  We toddled along and Mom went below for a sleep.  When she came back on deck around 11:00pm I set up the boat for the next 2 hours and told Mom – if the boat veers off that line there, or you see approaching lights that look like they might hit us, then Wake Me Immediately!  Then I put my head on her lap and slept next to her in the cockpit.

As I fell asleep with my head in my mother’s lap I thought how universal is that serene feeling of safety that children feel as they fall asleep in their mother’s lap.  And I thought that, in this particular instance, my comfy feeling was entirely misguided.

Mom woke me after 45 minutes with questions and I checked the boat, checked the course, checked for lights, checked the seas around – and went back to sleep.  I alternated waking / checking / sleeping in this fashion until about 2:30am when Mom went below deck to bed to sleep soundly.

As we approached the seas nearest Tijuana I had been warned by the Ensenada Dockmaster that there were rumors of petty piracy in the area.  So I decided to brazen it out by copying the methods of the Animal World…. like that helpless snake that has developed virulent red, yellow, and black stripes to mimic the REALLY dangerous snake of similar coloring, and intimidate all would-be predators.  Consequently I turned on every light on the boat!  I turned on the deck light, the cockpit lights, turned on flashlights and placed them all over the cockpit facing outwards.  I also turned on every light below decks – in the galley, in the salon, and in the head.  The boat blazed like a Xmas tree!  I figured any pirates seeing the brightly lit boat would be suspicious – and avoid us like the plague!

The Bright Light strategy must have worked because we passed the coast unmolested       Also my mother spent an inordinate amount of time praying…..

I had hoped that I had timed our speed to come into San Diego harbor when the sun was up, but I guess I didn’t time it well enough.  So we came in on instruments in the dark.

A police vessel motored up alongside us with a million questions – Where did you come from?  What goods did you buy in MX?  Did you meet anyone at sea?  Where is the boat registered?  Who is on board?  Just you two?!  They even turned a spotlight on us to get a good look at these 2 crazy women.  Then they motored off again and we continued into port.

We docked at the Customs dock at 5:00am – just 12 hours after we left Ensenada.  I had to park the boat all by myself because I could hardly ask my 80 year-old mother to jump for the dock.  But luckily there was no wind, and without a breath of a breeze to unsettle me I did a picture perfect docking, stepped gently down onto the dock, and tied us up.  When I was sure we were safely tied, we both hit the bunks and slept till 8:00am.  Customs was annoyed that we hadn’t called them immediately we docked – but who knew they worked 24/7.

After checking us and the boat back into the United States, we prepared to depart.  I tried the engine but it was dead.  Nothing.  It wasn’t starting, not for nothing.  I called Fred and he said to check various cables which I tightened.  Still nothing.  So I called SeaTow and my insurance covered a jump start and the engine kicked into life.

FROM SAN DIEGO TO LONG BEACH….

I was asking the SeaTow guy all about entry into Long Beach because I was nervous.  I have NEVER been into LB, just never.  Not even as crew.  LB is one of the biggest ports in the world, and one of the busiest ports in the world – and I was sure my insurance would be unhappy that I skippered the boat in there by myself.  The SeaTow guy said – “I know a skipper!”  So I hired the skipper on the spot but he could only get to the boat by 2:00pm (he had just arrived from a delivery he did from Monterey Bay and was sound asleep).  As soon as the skipper arrived, we took off.

The seas were flat as a millpond and the ride to LB utterly uneventful.  It was wonderful having the skipper on board because I could go below decks and sleep on a real mattress for 4 whole hours!  The skipper then slept until 3:00am when I woke him because we were approaching LB with millions (it seemed) of massive container ships all around us.

We docked around 5:00am again – must be the magic hour for docking.  Fred had made me promise to call him no matter the time, and there he was on the dock waiting for us.  What a sweetheart.

So I’m fine.  Mom is fine.  The boat is fine.  And Fred is coming Saturday to do a complete work over on the transmission and engine to make sure it is all in perfect running order from now on.

So that’s the saga.  And I’ve graduated from New Owner to Novice Skipper!

But I think I’ll sail around close to home for the rest of the summer and not venture out to sea again – at least until next year.  If courage can be measured in a cup, then I have used up my cup for now.  I need a few weeks for it to replenish!

Safe in Long Beach

At the dock in Long Beach

Having bought the boat I set out to find an end-tie for my fat, 22ft wide, trimaran. I hadnt realized that getting an end tie in Southern California is like finding hens teeth!

I got a list of all marinas in Marina Del Rey and started calling.  Most MdR marina owners laughed when I asked for an end-tie and pointed out that they had a waiting list of x-hundred people which meant I would reach the top of the waiting list in about 5 years!

After I had exhausted all MdR marinas I started on the Ventura list.  Same thing there.  Actually worse!  They had mostly a 7-year waiting list.  One marina owner said that if I paid him $10,000 as a down payment he would move me from his 7-year list to his 2-year list.  I declined the offer.

I extended my search up to Santa Barbara with no luck.

Then I turned my attention south again and started on the marinas from Long Beach to San Diego and left voicemail after voicemail for the marina managers.  I had been on the phone for about 5 hours hunting for an end-tie for my dream boat and had spoken to dozens and dozens of marinas.  I was losing hope.

I was on the San Diego list of marinas when I noticed a voicemail on my cell phone.  I listened and it was a call from a marina owner in Long Beach who said simply “Your slip is waiting for you” and left a call back number.

I was parked at the marina within 20 minutes putting down a deposit and securing a 60ft slip.  It was somewhat bigger than I needed for my 41ft trimaran but I wasnt about to pass it up.

The owner/manager said that the slip had been open for about 4 months and she had been inundated with calls asking to rent the slip.  And her husband insisted she rent the slip.  But she refused saying that she was keeping the slip open for someone particular.  Who? asked her husband.  “I dont know”, she reponded, “but I will know when they call”.

She said that when she heard my voicemail she called her husband first and declared, “I found the person for the end tie!”.  Then she called me.

I loved that slip.  It was in the main Cerritos Channel near the Henry Ford Bridge so there were huge container ships going back and forth, lots of tugs buzzing around, and recreation boats moving up and down the channel.  My favorite thing was to sleep on the boat Friday night and wake around 2:00am and pop my head out the hatch.  There was always something happening even at that time of the morning!  I would make a cup of coffee and sit out in the cockpit watching a MASSIVE container ship being shunted carefully and silently backwards by the tugs down the channel to the HFBridge and a temporary docking.

Or on the lazy summer afternoons I would treat myself to a BBQ on deck and watch the busy antics of the boats in the channel.  Or watch the boat parade as they waltzed past in a long stately line.

It was a fun place to keep the boat.  Lots of activities and things to watch.  I loved being down on my boat.

Bashing up the Baja

GETTING TIME OFF WORK…… Feb 2008

I had just started a new contract in Pasadena when the boat deal closed, the financing went thru, the boat insurance was done – and the boat was mine!!

But I had only been in my new contract for 1 week so I was sure my boss would not let me take 2 weeks leave.  Nevertheless I had to fetch the boat so I asked – no harm in asking.  As it turned out there had been a delay in getting my login and laptop, and the techies were saying they needed another 2 weeks.  Gotta love co-inky-dink!  So he gave me the 2 weeks off with his blessing.

I bolted for Mexico.

MEMORIES FROM LA PAZ….

So here I sit in LaPaz, Mexico in the cockpit of my new boat.

The night is beautiful; gentle breezes, still waters, calm skies.

Everyone says its an uphill bash to California due to the Winter storms off the Baja, but – I recently read The Secret – so I’m manifesting still waters all the way.  Calm seas is what I want, preferably flat as a pond.

Its only 7:30pm but I’m pooped.  I think its mostly just stress that is so exhausting because I haven’t done much – actually that’s a lie.  I went thru all the lazarettes and the front sections of the trimaran and checked everything and made a mental note of where stuff was stored.  So I know where the anchoring and emergency anchoring equipment is and how it operates – I dont want to be hunting around in the dark in high winds (although I’m manifesting zip winds) looking for stuff – I would rather know in advance where it all is.

Then I washed the boat from front to back.  Some local guy saw me washing away and came over and in Spanish told me I could borrow his hose end-fitting for jetting water, and just throw it back on the deck of his boat when I was done.  I didn’t understand a word he said, but I got the message from all the hand signals.  So I borrowed his jetting piece and when I was done I went over to his boat and put it back on the floor of his cockpit.  Love these boating people!!

I met up with my skipper and I will be traveling up with him as his crew.  I want to be crew so that I have a chance to get a feel for the boat before I have to be my own skipper.  He and I are going shopping for food stuffs tomorrow for the trip.  He says it will take 11 days to San Diego so I might have to jump ship in Ensenada and return to work – but I will make that decision closer to the time.

The skipper was telling me to put together a list of groceries for a menu – so I said, you’re talking to a city girl who nukes her food every night.  He looked horrified and said, Never mind, I’ll be the cook then!

I’m sitting here with my laptop songs playing, typing away – man, I could just LOVE this boating life.

We will leave Monday and slog away to San Diego and then Long Beach – actually I’m manifesting calm seas.  Did I already mention that?

AND AWAY THEY GO…..

We left La Paz on the Sunday under clear skies and light breezes, and headed out into the Sea of Cortez.  The skipper and I quickly settled into a routine of 3 hours on and 3 hours off.

I learned a ton of stuff as well from the skipper.   Usually people hate showing you things – like its some sort of State secret – but this Skipper would go out of his way to show me stuff.  He would come over and say – Julia, I’m going to change the oil filter, you need to see this.  Or he would say, Julia I’m going to start the generator, you need to see this.  So everything he did, he would first call me, and I would traipse after him and get in his way as he did whatever he said he would do.

And he never objected when I fiddled around with the electronics and route while he was sleeping after his shift, and I had us going off in the wrong direction.  He would just quietly put us back on track and would explain how the numbers on the electronic chart actually worked.

Eventually I got it down, but the first few days I had us wobbling all over the place while he slept.  I must say, I had a blast – I didn’t know what I was doing, but I thoroughly enjoyed doing it!

For 5 or 6 days we just roared across very flat seas.  Then we pulled into Tortuga to get fuel and the next day when we were preparing to leave, a local came up and warned us that the waves outside the bay were very high and dangerous.  He suggested we hug the coast.  Then he left to warn the other yacht that had anchored in the bay.

We exited the bay and immediately faced 15 ft waves- the Skipper launched us head first into the fray.  The other yacht exited and carefully hugged the shore as we had been told to do.  I asked the Skipper why we were heading straight out to sea head on into the waves- against local advice – and he said it was “safer out there”.  His normal job is an Alaskan skipper so his version of normal and my version of normal probably diverge quite radically.

Needless to say we fell off the back of one of the very steep waves that tore a 77 inch rip in the skin of the ama.   Waves are supposed to be curved shaped but this one did not have a back to it, so we rode up the front, found no back to ride down, and went airborne.   We crashed down into the trough behind the wave and you could hear the boat flexing.  The crash and flex tore a 77-inch rip in the skin over the outer pontoon (ama) and I was furious with the damage.  We had been warned to hug the coast and it was unnecessary for us to have been going that fast into such high waves.   Man, I was PISSED at him.  So we spent 4 days at anchor back in the bay fixing the bloody rip before we could go out again.

When the glass had dried we set out again and found flat seas outside the bay.  We motored along uneventfully for another few days and I was fast asleep when the boat lurched and I was flung out of my bed!  REALLY??  On a trimaran?  I rushed up on deck to find that the seas had risen alarmingly in the hours I had been asleep and we were again smashing our way at full throttle into massive waves.  I stared in horror as the boat hit an oncoming wave, reared skywards and pointed its nose at the stars, then crashed down into the sea again flinging spray sky high.   It seemed to me, hanging on frantically to anything available, that the boat was so upright that it seemed to be standing on its beam ends.  Then crashing down.  Then up on its back end.  Then crashing down.  I was convinced that the next wave would flip us right over – backwards head over heels and upside down.

I stared at the skipper – what was he thinking??  He was driving the boat as though it was a 500-ton Alaskan steel ship, not a recreational sailboat.

I yanked back on the throttle and the boat collapsed with relief onto the sea, and gently rode the next wave like a champion.  The skipper spun around to see what had slowed the boat.  Me, the $$$ owner, was responsible for restoring normalcy!  This time I ERUPTED.  He was not only endangering the boat, he was endangering my life.   I yelled at him to bring the boat properly under control, slow it down, and angle it correctly into the waves to reduce the massive strain it was obviously under.  He grudgingly complied.   I yelled him – “What are you thinking?  Are you determined to deliver a SCRAP boat to Ensenada?!”  He responded – “Why should you have a beautiful boat like this, when I cant afford one?”.  That got my attention – it also made me nervous to go to sleep with him at the helm.

I (him too I hope!) gentled the boat thru the storm for the next 14 hours until the seas had abated enough for us to throttle up again.

Overall the trip was pretty painless.  The first 5 days we just flew along on completely flat seas, like a millpond.  Then we hit the high steep waves outside the bay and so unnecessarily ripped the skin.  That local storm only lasted one day but the tear kept us anchored for 4 days.  Then we set out on calm seas again, hit the storm that lasted the 14 hours, then flat seas again.  Mostly it was flat seas for the 14 days – a most unusual phenomenon, as everyone kept telling us.

We came into San Diego around midnight in another raging storm with 40 knot winds and gusts to 60 mph.  I was at the helm because we could not see thru the driving rain, so I drove (almost blindly) while the Skipper kept watch.  He stood outside the shelter of the cockpit giving me directions and I followed his words without question.  Even though I had the engine in neutral we were nevertheless being hurled down the San Diego main channel at over 7 knots.  The boat surfed down the waves as we sped in.

The skipper instructed me to enter the Customs channel/bay and spin the boat suddenly into the wind.  That killed our speed from a madcap 7 knots to a dead stop.  But then we were being pushed backwards down the channel!  The skipper spotted a 50ft gap on the dock that he said we would fit into.  I didn’t know how we could possibly fit into that seemingly tiny space because I was being pushed all over by the howling wind.

He yelled instructions and I followed them blindly.  While we were facing into the wind he yelled for me to pump the accelerator and jerk to port (the direction of the dock).  Then back to neutral.  And the wind blew up backwards.  Then pump, swerve to port, into neutral, and the wind blew us backwards and straightened us out. Over and over.  Pump, port, neutral, backwards.  And again.   It was hair raising stuff.  I was terrified and fascinated at the same time as the skipper expertly talked me to the dock – in that crabwise fashion – and got us neatly docked between 2 boats.  In that howling storm.  The man might be a little off-center but he sure knows how to skipper!!

He tied down the boat with every available line and watched for nearly 5 minutes in the pouring rain as the boat yanked and kicked at the dock.  He wanted to ensure it was safely tied – that was a valuable lesson for me who just wanted to get out of the rain, out of my foulies, and into a warm bed.  The next day we woke to find that one of the lines had snapped during the storm, so then I was grateful for his watchfulness.

OFF SHORE DELIVERY….

Since the boat had been bought outside of the USA, according to US maritime law, we had to take it from Mexican waters back to American waters and thru Customs, then back offshore again for the physical Delivery – where I also handed over the check to the Skipper for his brother/owner.

Then we headed for Ensenada where the boat would spend the summer.  We docked and locked the boat and headed our separate ways – me to San Diego where my son would collect me, and him back to Alaska.

The delivery trip had taken 2 weeks and I reported for work on the Monday with some trepidation.  I wasnt sure that I still had a contract – but my boss was happy because my laptop had only arrived on the Thursday before so he didnt have to pay me for the 2 unproductive work weeks while we waited for my machine.  So he was happy.  And I was happy.  It worked out well.

Interior of FastAlley

The East Coast of the USA is definitely the place to be if you want to buy a multihull because the shallow draft of multihulls is perfect for the Bahamas and Caribbean islands.  But my son had precipitously returned to Los Angeles from South Africa so I schlepped across country from DC to LA to be near my granddaughters.

For a number of months I had seen FastAlley (or Savannah as she was called at the time) advertised on the internet.  The boat was in Mexico and was advertised at a price that was double my budget – but Wow, what a boat.  The owners had been cruising around Mexico for 6 years and she was in Bristol condition.

A few months after first seeing her on the internet, I noticed that her selling price had dropped $20,000.  A while later the price dropped $20,000 again.  It was still outside my budget but out of curiosity I called the broker.  At the time you could buy a boat in international waters, and if you kept it outside the USA for 90+ days then you could avoid paying Sales Tax on the purchase price.  However, the government had just upped the anty from 90-days to 1-year.  So if you wanted to buy this boat and save the Sales Tax then you had to leave it outside the country for 1+ year.  Most buyers did not want to be deprived of their boat for so long.  And so the boat lanquished.

A few months later the price dropped $20,000 again. I called the boat broker and asked “What’s wrong with this boat?”.  The broker said that the trimaran had an outside hot/cold deck shower and this was putting off the women who, for the price, wanted an inside shower.  That didnt bother me unduly – I figured when I finally retired in tropical climes I will probably be grateful for an outside deck shower.

A little later it popped up on my search again and this time the price had dropped another $20,000.  I called the broker again and asked, “What is wrong with this boat?”. The broker said that the boat itself is beautiful, but it is in Mexico and most Americans consider that “international” which puts them off.   Since I was originally from South Africa and had been hunting for a multihull in Australia, the Mediterranean, and the Caribbean, I considered Mexico just another American “State” due to its proximity.  However, the price was still outside my budget, so I moved on.

Then the price dropped significantly again.  It was now approaching my price range!!  I called the broker yet again.  She said that the owner’s wife had had a baby and they just wanted out of the boat.  I made an offer.  They accepted.

I had my dream boat.

BUYING IN MEXICO…..

It is a relatively costly experience buying in Mexico – for starters the USA levies a Sales Tax on the purchase price even though you bought it outside the country.

Then you have the initial flight from the USA to La Paz, MX to see the boat.  So its the cost of a flight.  And the hotel fees there.  And restaurants.  And cabs.  Etc.   So you are out $1000 just to view the boat.

The marine survey is another $2000 on top of that – $1000 for the haulout and $1000 to the surveyor.  So by the end of the week you are out $3000 – and hopefully the boat passed the test otherwise its a sunk cost!

I was financing the boat thru the bank that had financed the current owners.  Because the boat is a non-production boat, finding financing is harder than a commercial production boat.  But I had the approval for financing and was committed now so I flew down to La Paz on Jan 18th 2008 to view the boat and do the marine survey.  I had asked to do a moisture test on the boat so that any non-visible rot below the glass would show up.

The surveyor was extremely thorough and went over the trimaran with a fine tooth comb.  The boat was in excellent condition and all accessories, like the dingly, dinghy engine, generator, etc all were also in excellent condition.  The boat is just beautiful.  And covered in GORGEOUS bird’s eye maple.  She is a magnificent trimaran, with so many loving touches that the owner/husband put in place for his wife.  I considered myself abundantly blessed to own this fabulous boat.

LOOKING BACK…..

Looking back I can see there are a number of reasons the trimaran did not sell quickly

• When they initially put it on the market the complaint from the wives of the buyers was that it did not have an indoor shower.
• When they first listed the boat, you had to leave the boat in MX for 1 year if you wanted to avoid sales tax.
• It costs about $1000 to view the boat in Mexico with airfare and hotels and food etc – and you dont know if you really want it yet!
• You need a skipper to deliver it usually (unless you have the time and skills) – about $5000 for the skipper expenses (his flight, food, etc) to bring the boat from La Paz to Long Beach, CA.
• And if you want to be crew, you are looking at yet another flight to MX to join the boat.  And $300 stocking up with enough food and snacks for a 2-week trip is yet another cost.
• You cannot SAIL from the Baja up the coast to California because the wind is directly on your nose, so you are looking at another $900 in fuel costs as you motor the boat all the way up.
• The boat is 22ft wide so it has to have an end-tie.  There is a FIVE YEAR waiting list for an end-tie anywhere in southern California – five years!!  I suspect this was a big issue for buyers – where to put the thing?
• Financing is hard to find because it is a custom boat and the Tier 1 banks cant find a comparable boat for pricing it – no comp, no financing – so I eventually financed thru the bank that held the original loan.