Kayaking in a Small Craft Advisory

Spray was coming up all over my dog Buttercup and I and even though I put a blanket over her so she would stay more dry, it was getting crazy and we were getting drenched! It was also raining but I hardly noticed with my hood and baseball cap on.

I'm not sure why I get myself in these situations (yes, I tend to be quite adventurous by nature) and yes, it was exciting, although a little worrisome at one point. Especially the point when I had crossed the channel and I realized on the way back that the wind was blowing really hard against us. At first the wind had seemed to be obviously blowing down the channel upon us from the south but what I now understood was that it was from the south east - right in our face. Even the sheltered marina had white caps on the waves and the wind was blowing so hard I could barely make speed in the kayak against it!

At first, when I set out, the wind and waves were just fine (I mean it was windy still - but not CRAZY!) When I entered the main channel though, the wind was up a notch and I was surprised to see white caps on the small waves. Buttercup's body was covered by an itchy blanket (which surprisingly resists moisture) and she looked so cute with her head sticking out the front! If she hadn't been protected, I wouldn't of even tried to go across the channel. By the time I had paddled half way out, the waves were one to two feet high and breaking white water. I was beginning to feel challenged a bit but not overwhelmed. But by the time I got to the other side, the wind and waves were really taking on a 'mean' appearance. I noticed but I didn't take it to heart because at that point we weren't going into the wind. After letting Buttercup off at a dock to stretch her legs and warm up a little, she then hopped back on the kayak and we set off once more. However, As soon as I turned around and got past the dock is when I realized I could be getting myself into trouble! I was surprised to see that the wind was gusting from the south east and the waves were driving against me in the same direction. So every time I paddled the kayak into a wave, it broke over the bow and shot white spray all over Buttercup's head. 'Poor Butter!' was all I could think - but I had no choice now. It was 'get back wet or not at all!' So I clenched my teeth and paddled on with all my might - each wave getting the two of us wetter and wetter. I swear, I had the same gut feelings of fear and desperation that I get when I sail out into big waves at sea. Three quarters of the way back and I yelled: "we're gonna make it Buttercup!" And soon we had crossed out of the danger zone and into the smaller boat basin. Now that there were no waves to slow us down, we practically coasted down the basin and were back. Buttercup jumped off the kayak onto the dock SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! Within a few minutes, I entered my sailboat cabin drenched. After changing into warmer clothes, I then wrote: "Buttercup and I are just lying back in my boat today after just having gone out kayaking in this crazy rain."

Even though I've done some pretty hair raising things in my kayak like going out to sea at night and overturning in the waves as I washed up on the beach, I have to say that this was unintentionally crazier and 'took the cake' for wild experiences on a kayak! :-D


~Albie
All comments are TRULY welcome!

Sailing Without an Engine - AGAIN!

It was a beautiful evening, the stars were shining, the lights from shore glowed across the water and a healthy wind was blowing. The waves were just a couple feet high and didn't seem to bother Buttercup (my golden lab) who sat near me in the cockpit. But it had not been a bowl of roses getting out here:

Today my friend asked me to take her 30 foot Santana boat out (as she was away and needing someone to check on it). So I found her boat in the dock she had told me of and I set about to find the key. That in itself was a major job - as I couldn't find it - and so kept up the search until finally I remembered one little clue she had told me and I was then able to open the hatch door. Afterwards, I set about the task of getting the jib and main sail set. It was obvious it had not been sailed in a while, so finding the sails took me a while too! The next step was to get the outboard engine turned on, and this too proved difficult! In fact - I couldn't do it. I tried every trick in my 'engine starting' book but it would not turn over. So here I would go again - sailing without an engine! One big problem though: it was a downwind slip and how to get the boat out? I began formulating a plan to kayak out to the opposite dock on the upwind side, tie a rope on the dock cleat and then kayak back, attach the boat to the line and pull the boat out. Putting up the sails, I would then let go of the lines holding the boat to the dock and sail out. And that's more or less what happened after a first try mess up - the first trouble being that I only set the jib (sailing out under jib alone works with me Columbia 22 but not on this bigger Santana 30).
So once out on the water - I was exuberant (I mean after all that work I had almost given up!). It was my first time sailing a thirty foot by myself and though there was an additional eight feet from my Columbia 22, it really did not feel that much different.

The sun was now setting and as I got half way out the harbor, I knew I needed to get the navigation lights on. So I tied down the tiller in my usual fashion* (which I will explain below) and then turned on the battery and lights. But here again I was met with resistance. For every light seemed willing to come on EXCEPT the navigation lights! The boat even had some really cool amber cockpit lights that helped maintain night vision. That was all super great but without the essentials, I felt frustrated again! Thankfully I had thought ahead and put some emergency nav. lights in my backpack and now attached these to the port and starboard side and lit my lantern for the stern light. So, armed with this, I then headed out to sea. It was peaceful to be sailing over the waves again by myself. I had not been out by myself since I lost my mast in that storm about a month or so ago. And so after a pleasant sail over the dark waves, I returned back to the harbor and coming upwind, lowered the mainsail, and then cruised back under jib alone into the boat slip.

"Nicely done!" A friendly man on another boat yelled across the water. I took that as a compliment and was encouraged for all the hard work I had done to get the boat out today!

To Broach Your Boat in the Waves or Not To - This IS the Question!

I left the marina with strong winds coming out of the west. It didn't take too long to get out to sea where 6-10 foot waves were waiting for me. It looked like a mess out there. I had the little jib up and it sailed well over the big ten footers. Out at sea, the waves came upon you like monsters wanting to gulp you up. I had tethered myself to the lifeline and the hatches were closed. These size of waves really challenge you to be alert and careful and to make wise decisions - or else! True enough, I've been in worse. Waves that were breaking more often and that were higher and more steep. But still, these kept me on my toes! I was even able to video a little footage of the time out there. Its interesting how on video, its very hard to show how big the waves are. I believe this is because of the wave length. On video you can't see the distance between waves and thus the waves just appear to blend into the sea. Only the waves atop the bigger waves show up and these don't look too big.

While I was out there with my phone camera, I suddenly got nailed by a big breaking wave and the spray flew all over me. I quickly ducked and saved my phone. The wetness hit me in the back instead, drenching through my first layer of clothing. I remember in times past being much more intimidated by these waves and returning to the harbor after fifteen minutes or so. But I've been learning more how to deal with these waves and my fear level has decreased. So today I stayed out an hour in the craziness. It was rather fun. I did not have a lot of stress as the small jib was just the right size for the gusting wind and the boat was holding her own real well. Its when the wind starts increasing and putting too much pressure on the sails that I begin to get nervous.

I did though, have a little trouble on the way back as the boat kept wanting to head up into the strong gusting wind. The waves were now coming from behind and the wind was crossing over my beam. I realized I had not let the main sail out enough. I mean, the boat was on a beam reach already, but still the boat had almost swerved broadsides into the big waves twice. Thankfully I had been saved by the simple turn of the tiller. But if the wind comes on strong enough, the tiller is helpless to overpower the sails. That's why so much care needs to be taken to make sure the you are sailing the boat BY the sails. I've had my tiller break against a heavy wind when my sails were set wrong. So I had to let the main sheet and boom out even more (almost to a run!) so the boat wouldn't broach. One big lesson in sailing in big seas and heavy winds is to make sure the sails are helping your tiller out!

While writing this, I wanted to see what the full definition of 'broaching' was, so I looked it up. This was very interesting to me and they put it in words that are very clear and easy to understand. I really felt like I was battling all these same symptoms out at sea that they are talking about:

"A sailboat broaches when its heading suddenly changes towards the wind due to wind/sail interactions for which the rudder cannot compensate. This causes the boat to roll dangerously and if not controlled may lead to a capsize."

"Also when sailing on a dead downwind run an inexperienced or inattentive sailor can easily misjudge the real strength of the wind since the boat speed subtracts directly from the true wind speed and this makes the apparent wind less. In addition the sea conditions also falsely seem milder on this point of sail as developing white caps are shielded from view by the back of the waves and are less apparent. When changing course in a brisk wind from a run to a reach or a beat, a sailboat that seemed under control can instantly become over-canvassed and in danger of a sudden broach."
~Broach (sailing) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

True enough, sailing downwind or close to it on a broad reach, is exhilarating and very different than sailing into the 'teeth' of the wind. The wind is coming mostly from behind and you often end up 'surfing' through the waves on a fast track that appears much easier than beating into the crashing waves. But its dangers are perhaps even more real than on the other tack.

~Albie
PS: if you read this article, I really appreciate your messages posted below! Thanks!! :-)

Blasted by Cannon Smoke!

Exy's big cannon blasted off at us and smoke fumed out over the sea. The shot rang and echoed in our heads nearly making our teeth rattle! A cannon ball shot over my head. Hold on, did I just say that? I meant to say a grape fruit. Because that's what we shot out of the cannon on the way back from Santa Barbara Island. Or was that from a big sling shot I'm thinking about? Oh well, whatever it was, nothing really shot over my head except my active imagination and a lot of smoke! Soon the Exy was blanketed in the grey stuff and I couldn't help but think how cool it all looked. For the next few hours we tacked and beat into the south westerly wind - always keeping our eyes out for the Exy Johnson's position.

Just to keep you current on what was happening, the Irving Johnson and the Exy Johnson tall ships had set out sailing in unison that morning. I was aboard the Irving. We were taking a middle school group of kids out to experience the ocean today on one the most beautiful sailing ships in California. Out of the dock, the first Mate yelled all 'crew' to stations and this meant the children too! Our station - #1 was in charge of the jibs at the bow. When we were ready, the ones in charge of the fore stay sail cried out: "Ready forsail halyard!" Soon cries from all the other stations could be heard too. Looking along deck, I could see the main sail going up and the main stay sail. Soon three jibs were up and the ship was moving along at a good clip without the engine. Next, the lower, upper, and topgallant square sails were hauled into position. My group was in charge of the topgallant clews and bunts. There is one rope or line connecting the clew and two lines for the bunts. These lines pull the sails down after the spars have been drawn up. The kids were as confused as many of you are now who are reading this. "The 'what' does what?" They were thinking. Anyway, you get the picture! Soon we were beyond the San Pedro Lighthouse and at sea. The sun glimmered off the little waves like a thousand shining mirrors. And off in the distance - only twenty three miles away - was Catalina Island. I had sailed there with a different group of kids this last summer. Today though, the Irving and the Exy were destined to practically board each other in a pirate like sea battle. Well not really, but close. The Irving was slowly gaining on the Exy, drawing near to her stern. Soon we were almost along side and ready to board. I mean - no one really dared - but it was fun to think about! (Actually, a professional photographer was taking pictures of the two ships together.)

After lunch the kids took turns climbing the ratlines up the mast and challenging themselves to not look down. Atop the first platform - near the big sqaure rig sail called 'the Course', you can see what looks like forever across the sea. You feel like you are up in the sky among the clouds looking down at the sea and the islands and mountains and all mankind. I knew the kids were getting an amazing view - those that dared to climb up there!

During that time, I took a turn at the wheel, steering a course for 160 degrees. It seemed odd to me that from Marina Del Rey (where my Columbia 22 is docked), the course to Catalina is due south ( 180) from the breakwater. But in San Pedro - much further down the coast - it's still 160. Honestly, Catalina appears to be due west from there. But after taking a look at the compass, I could see I was wrong. So I kept up my heading - turning the wheel one spoke this way and then one spoke that way to keep the ship balanced. I remembered the trip to Catalina - when I had taken the wheel for at least a good hour or two. At that time the heading had been to get as near the wind as we could so we could bring the Irving into Two Harbors under sail alone. In fact, out of all the trips I've made in the Irving and Exy Johnson, that was the only time I recall having made it in the harbor without the engine. After sending down 3 or 400 foot of chain with the anchor, I clearly remember the sun was setting and there was an orange glow atop the western mountain range. Looking off to the distant 'Ship Rock', the ocean had turned to a dark blue color and what with the little white caps cresting on the waves, it owned a mysterious beauty about it that no picture or letters can really accurately describe!

In the morning we did some hiking and climbed to the top of the mountain - catching glimpse of a buffalo! That afternoon, we took a turn in the kayaks and paddled through the sea caves just down the coast. And in the evening, our team made dinner and then took a break while the other team washed the dishes. The following day, we sailed to Santa Barbara island amidst cloudy skies and variable winds. I, and a few other kids took bow watch up on the bow sprit that stretches twenty feet or so out over the water. It was a blast to ride up and fall ten feet as the bow drove through the waves. Eventually we were going to get a soaking and I warned the kids - especially the ones standing on the net below the bow-sprit - to watch out. But that had little impact. But what did have impact was the sudden wave that hit the bow and that drove in for home as the netting and even the bow-sprit were suddenly immersed in water! The kids all gasped - being now completely wet. We all thought that was hugely fun - even the ones that were wet!

Later that day we made it to Santa Barbara island, but to our disappointment, the island was closed and we had to turn around and come back. However, on the return trip, we set the giant 'Course' sail and we all felt like Greeks in a different age sailing before the wind!

By nightfall - the following evening - we had made our way back to San Pedro. After dodging three or four huge tankers with help from our radar and the night bow watch, we finally arrived back at our home dock. Both the day sail excursion and the trip to Catalina had been exciting and beutiful!

~Albie
PS: Thanks for any messages you might leave! They are most welcome - THANKS!!