Down the coast

This is so cool.  It's Thursday about noon, we're motoring down the coast on a short leg today from Oxnard to Marina del Rey.  Since we're able to stay close in to the coast, we have internet through our cell phone.  You may recall from the last time we sailed to Mexico that internet availability is surprisingly difficult to come by, even in the US, and even in harbor, and especially in Mexico once we leave Ensenada.  So this is a real treat to be online even while underway.

 I'm afraid the pictures went onto the blog in reverse of the usual order, but I'll bet you can figure that out.

F  From the log of IRIE Wednesday 10 26 2011

As we leave Santa Barbara, there's a bit of emptiness being felt along with the promise of new destinations today and in the future.  This day began sunny, as was not predicted, and IRIE is happy to be unleashed again.  She purrs along at about 5 kts with the engine using a bit less than a gallon an hour - a very nice surprise. 

We had hoped to sail the short leg planned for today, but with the breeze blowing directly from our destination, well, that's why we have an engine. 

(Blogspot is giving me a very hard time with layout today, and I simply don't have time to keep trying to redo the redo, so I'll just type and we'll see how it turns out OK?)

It's a beautiful morning.  About 65 degrees with clear blue skies and friendly blue water as we weave a path between oil rigs and watch the mountainous Southern California coast slip by.  No dolphins yet, but the Met Life blimp is floating in the sky nearby and we know the dolphins will be along for playtime soon.

As perfect as this scene is, it's the lack of our crewmate and friend Mitch Manina that has us feeling a little down.  You simply have to spend some time at sea with Mitch to appreciate this feeling that I'm having such a hard time putting on paper.  He was our good humor man.  Forever upbeat and looking forward with a mind that remembers all the good experiences and turns them into great stories.  And an experienced hand whose input was always respected.  He was a pleasure to have aboard, and will surely be missed.

Right now we're passing through a scene from Star Wars or Terminator.  A field of oil platforms, seven of them within a couple miles of us.  Claudia is working the camera, so hopefully we'll have a shot or two to post.  The autopilot is doing a marvelous job, so IRIE is happily sailing herself.  Chuck is in his favorite place, at the helm looking at the scene passing by while being the eyes for our little floating home.  There are no real dangers out here today, but he keeps us from the crab pots and floating weed beds that might like to get up close and personal with our prop.

Lest I be remiss for not saying it soon enough, we all agree that Chuck Reckner has proven to be a major asset and an absolute joy to have with us.  Always willing, eager even, with a sharp mind, an easy acceptance, and a wonderful sense of humor.  It's really fun to watch him and kind of participate as he learns the challenges and the joys of this lifestyle.  Chuck, you are welcome aboard anytime you like.

Speaking of challenges, I suppose I should say a few words about our trip down the coast to this point.  First, a quick update of the past two hours.  Pelicans and other birds galore, a small turtle, a stainless steel mixing bowl floating by, dolphins and a whale, a delicious tuna sandwich on a toasted roll, and, perhaps best of all, sailing now.  Quiet.  Just gliding along toward Channel Island Harbor.

OK.  IRIE left San Francisco last Saturday - today is Wed - amid a mix of expectations but high hopes with four of us aboard.  Claudia and Emrick, Chuck Reckner, and Mitch Manina.  We had waited almost two weeks from our planned departure to have the near perfect weather forecast that lays before us.  It was sunny and mild, and after motoring through the frenzy of the Bay area on a Saturday, past the City and Alcatraz Island, out under the famous Golden Gate bridge and over the bar to a perfect breeze for a broad reach down the coast.  It was the stuff dreams are made of.  With one reef in the main and most of the jib unfurled we were doing six knots in the right direction.  When the wind died a couple hours later, we pulled in the sails and fired the diesel.  Another two hours later, the wind became fair again, so back up went the sails.  Soon it was dusk and the wind was freshening, so we chose to put the sails to bed and motor through the night.

That was the last we would see of our sails for this long leg of the trip, but it was an important taste.  While IRIE motors exceptionally well, we now know that she sails even better. 

The night was cold but uneventful.  With four of us aboard and three hour watches, we each got to see the stars above and the effervessence below, and, while there was plenty of time off for rest, the motion didn't allow for a lot of sleeping.  This was the Pacific Coast after all.

Early Sunday afternoon in the vicinity of Morro Bay - the foggiest place on the coast - the fog appeared right on cue.  Light at first, it became pretty dense as dusk came along.  This was not part of the plan, but having seen virtually no other traffic, and running 12 -15 miles offshore, we decided to continue on.  The seas were 4 - 6 feet, and since we were moving in the same direction, there was really no problem except that we were blind.  IRIE has radar, but let's just say that it's less than adequate.  So, it would be an uncomfortable night.  Cold and wet, but we were prepared for that.

At 0400 when I climbed into the cockpit to begin my watch, Chuck actually had a grin on his face.  As he showed me, we could just begin to see distant lights on shore and the air had stopped dripping.  Joy to the world, as we were approaching the infamous Point Conception.

We rounded Points Arguello and Conception with high spirits mid morning under clearing skies and nearly flat calm seas.  This was part of the plan.  Now, the only problem was that the first real harbor, Santa Barbara, was still some forty miles ahead.  We had been nursing our fuel supply for two days now and a quick check of the tank said that we still had plenty.  So, we coaxed a few hundred more RPM out of the engine which upped our speed from 4.5 - 5 kts to 6.5 - 7 kts.  That move probably doubled our fuel consumption, but it was all smiles when the GPS now predicted our arrival in daylight at around 1800 hours.

End of ship's log narrative.

So now you're pretty much up to date on our voyage so far.  Our plan is to dock at Marina del Rey - a mere 4 miles ahead - for a couple days to do some resting, houskeeping, and provisioning.  Then Saturday, we'll run the 14 hour leg to Oceanside, and Sunday we'll begin an overnight trip that should find us in Ensenada, Mexico on Monday.  Woo Hoo.

E