Gentle Winds, Stormy Memories

Right now I’m out on my boat. There is no wind, so I’m just floating out here watching the ripples of the water and writing this story. As I sit here, I can hear a seal swimming around my boat coming up every so often for air. A few motor boats pass by with their engines revved up and making a lot of noise. The distance I have got to this evening has been from rowing. Fortunately my boat is 22 feet so it is still ‘rowable’ – but only just. There is a trifle of a wind – you can barely feel it but it does empower the sails a bit and I am progressing along – at a snail’s pace. But I am in no rush. The reason I love to get away each week to go sailing is because I love the solitude and the beauty of the water, sky and sea. Just a few minutes ago, before the world turned dark, the sky was this amazing gold and orange afterglow from the sun’s departure. There was still no wind at that time but there’s nothing like being on the water when the sun sets, so I set sail anyway!
You never know what you’re going to experience out at sea. Some weeks I come down to the Marina and a beautiful wind is blowing. These days are fantastic for sailing and I wouldn’t miss them. Other times a thick fog has set in and sailing out in that sometimes makes me disoriented, dizzy and sick. But if there’s at least a mile or two visibility, the water is very mysterious and beautiful. Some days its rainig and the rain drops on the water are captivating. Other times a fierce wind may be blowing. Finding all the courage I can to go out in it, I set the smallest sails and get all my safety gear ready. Then I challenge each new obstacle as it comes. If it gets too fierce and I get really scared, I turn around and come back. But that is rare. Going out to sea on those days, the sea is like a fuming cauldron. The waves are big and engaging them is not for a coward. It feels a bit like riding a bucking bronco except with a twenty five foot mast and sails. Just to keep your balance and stay on your feet is a challenge. The waves come at you with ferocity and boiling over with white water. The boat plunges forward head on to cut through the waves defenses. At first the wave approaches with its ‘head’ lifted high and looks like it will take you down. As it advances upon you, the boat quickly rises with the motion and then you hit its white top. White spray flies everywhere and even comes after me – fifteen feet away in the cockpit! Sometimes I’m able to avoid its wetness but other times it nails me. The boat plows on and suddenly you find yourself on the back side of the wave. The bow pushes onward into thin air and then suddenly slips down the wave at a steep angle. The motion in itself can be an enemy to your stomach depending on how often you sail and your personal tolerance for the sea. Sliding down the wave you then repeat the process again – except that this next time you may have to deal with the angle of the wind having changed and have to pull in or let out the sails too, or find that the next wave is coming in the wrong direction and have to turn the tiller and make the boat face the wave in just the right way. And if anything goes wrong, the stress instantly doubles or triples in force very fast. This is when sailing stops being fun – at least until you come up with a solution to the problem. And a word of caution: sailing in heavy winds can itself be very stressful and dangerous if you’re not prepared and have had experience with it. Of course, I have my limits too. So, all in all, it’s fun to write about – but completely a different story being out in it.
So that is the world of sailing. Right now my world is just extremely calm as I wait for the wind to pick up after dark. As I speak, a little zephyr of wind is starting to blow and it may turn into a real breeze that I can sail with. My sail is starting to gain some shape – so we will see! If tonight is like one of those rare evenings when the wind shuts down for good after dark, then I will soon dock my boat and head out to sea in my kayak. And that is fun too. I could write a great story on that as well – especially the evening I brought the kayak up on the beach and got flipped around by breakers! But when it comes down to it, nothing beats sailing along with three foot waves, a mile off shore; watching the lights on land pass by with the wind in your sails! And that’s what I’m hoping for tonight. Wish me fair winds!

Twenty Three Hours At Sea

A million and one stars greeted me in the dark sky. As I ran before the wind with both sails out like wings, one hundred stars disappeared behind the mainsail on the starboard side and one hundred behind the jib on the port side. As the mast head swung from side to side in the ocean swell, ten new stars reappeared from behind the sail and then were lost again from sight. It was amazing! Eventually the wind came out with gusto and I was already five miles out to sea sailing along the mountainous coast of Malabu. Mysterious lights on the mountains glowed yellow and gold as I passed. My green port light on the right side of the boat 'waved' goodbye!

This weekend I had driven down to the marina wanting to sail as far out to sea as possible in one night and still be able to get back in for Christmas eve the next day. So I left the dock around 9:30 in the evening - just in time for the wind to die down for the evening! It was a very unusual time to leave and as far as wishing to get far on the power of the wind alone - a big risk. But It didn't seem to matter to me tonight. if I had no wind, I was just was going to go as far as I could and if that wasn't far - then so be it. But my long shot hopes seem to pan out. As I soon found out, the wind was far from being over! Soon I was out of the harbor and way out to sea. Now the bright stars and youthful wind played with my imagination as I sailed on.

By 2 AM I was tired and made a temporary bed in the cockpit so I could keep watch between cat naps. I laid down my sleeping bag upon my cabin cushions and then over my sleeping bag I put my itchy blanket (which I found to be dew resistant!) As there was a lot of dew at this time of night - that itchy blanket was the difference between waking up with the sleeping bag all wet or nice and dry.
I scanned the horizon but as usual at this hour, it was void of all boats. It had been for hours. So I felt relatively safe cat-napping for fifteen minutes at a time between watches. This worked fine most of the night as I kept waking up and viewing the horizon for any little moving green, red or white light on the ocean. But my report always came back empty, so I just went back to sleep. Sometimes the wind would change slightly or the boat sails would need re-adjusting, so I would blindly reach out and turn the tiller an inch hoping that would do the trick. Sometimes it did and other times not. At any rate, I kept this procedure up all night until about 5am when my body temperature really dropped and I had to go in the warm cabin and cat nap for an hour. About 6am I came back out in the cockpit and noticed that the dark night sky was turning to grey.
'The sun will be coming soon', I thought. So I lied on my 'bed' with my hands behind my head and watched the early morning sky. The mountains began to turn a light maroon color and the dark sea turned grey. Then all the mountains on the eastern horizon and the island of Catalina to the south were highlighted as they turned a brighter red. Soon they all turned orange and before I knew it the sea was this beautiful blue highlighted against the brilliant orange mountains and sky! What a sight. I sat there in disbelief at such an amazing scene. I thought how blessed I was to be able to see this. And then like the burst of flame from the ashes, the golden gleam of the sun suddenly flashed in the east. Wow! How amazing. But then everything started to change. Soon the colors had left and the morning blue sky had returned. The morning was born and with it - sight of where I was. Point Dume was there off my port bow - still an hour away. And now the mansions and 'castle' like estates, high up the malabu mountains, were clearly visible. I was still a little too far out to sea and I wanted to come in toward land a little closer. So I pulled in the jib and mainsail tighter and headed north west into the headwinds that were coming sharply down the coast. In half an hour I was nearer the shore (about a mile) and could see the sandy beaches and all the big homes right along the edge of the water. Many had large pylons and pillars holding them firmly up on the sand. This was as close as I wished to go as I could see where the wind petered out nearer land. My wish had been granted and now it was time to think about heading back home for Christmas eve. I still had eight hours to get back to the marina and that seemed like a good margin. It didn't feel like I was trying to cut it close and I was happy about that. So I texted my wife my approximate time of arrival and then turned the tiller, aiming the bow eastward. During the night and in the early morning hours, the wind had been full of zest. But now the wind was light - an interesting flashback to my voyage out here a year before. But I was full of hope for a normal day at sea - which included fair winds at key times of the day such as after ten in the morning and around 2pm in the afternoon. The morning winds were in order - though light. But by the time I could clearly see Santa Monica Pier - the wind had died. And of all the strangest things - it remained that way - for five long hours. I suppose out of every ten or twenty days at sea, that one is unusual like that and has no afternoon wind. I was astounded that this one day out of twenty was to be my lot. So for what seemed like eternity, the boat moved like a turtle through the water - only getting some forward motion from the waves - which made the boom flop backward and forward, creating enough energy for 1MPH of speed! Having no control over these events, I became frustrated - realizing that I may not be able to keep my committed time to be home for Christmas Eve. Deciding to do something constructive with the time I then began drawing the mountains in my captains log book. Then after this I read books and ate food. I then realized how tired I was from cat-napping all night and could rest now with more ease as my boat was clearly visible in the day time. So I took a pillow out onto the bow and in the wonderful shade of the jib, fell asleep for hours! Since I was miles from land with hardly a boat in sight it was okay. When I awoke, the wind was still dead, so I just sat there taking in the amazing view of the sea from the front of the boat.
By evening time, a little wind returned and I got the boat moving along with it. Now another fantastic view presented itself. As the sunset turned orange on the horizon, all the windows that were angled correctly along the coast, reflected the setting sun and appeared like gold flashing stars on the dark mountains! 'Constellations' of golden stars now appeared and it blew me away. The sunset in itself was beautiful too and I raised my hands up to heaven to praise God. Then the wind came - this time with some gumption. Happily I pulled in the jib sheets tight and sailed for Marina Del Rey. I had been out at sea for twenty three hours and it was time to get back. Christmas Eve with my family at home was waiting and I was anxious and excited to get back.

A Birthday Sail

The Malibu mountains are so clear and bright. Every shade and hue of the green canyons and brown ravines ten miles away can be seen. The sky is so majestic and blue as the cirrus clouds float by like feathers. The sun is bright and warm on my skin. The waves are calm but delightful as they play against the bow. And the wind brushes the face of the water like a paint brush. I head out to sea for a couple miles and then see a man paddling a large surf board. 'What's he doing way out here?' I ask. Soon a seal surfaces, gasps for air and passes by. Thirty four sailboats grace the ocean from north to south, their sails full and white against the blue. Thank you God for a most beautiful birthday sail! What's my mission this year? To be filled with Gods Spirit and love.and help others. Sounds like a plan.

Sailing in a Furious Rain Storm!

“What are you doing going out in this? I’m freezing!” A man cried out to me from a racing sailboat passing by. I didn't realize sailing in rain and bad weather was part of the sport! I just smiled and waved back. I wanted to say how warm I was with three jackets on, two hats and a scarf and gloves. But I didn’t. Still the rain was coming down in buckets and the wind was out with a vengeance. The boat was heeled over a great deal as the boat sped on through the pelting rain. The racers huge genoa sail was up in this gusting wind and I could hardly believe it. Talk about pushing it to the limit! I could just imagine that big mast of theirs breaking under the enormous strain of the wind.

I could hardly see with all the rain and cold wind in my face. The hatches were all firmly closed and Buttercup (my cute golden Labrador) was snuggled up all warm on the v-birth. I thought about that: "all nice and warm in the midst of the storm. Wow, must be nice!", I thought. I'm not sure If I was jealous or just happy for her as I was still enjoying the fight against the storm. As for me, I instead decided to finally brave the elements head on and go out to the bow and take the sail down. Climbing up out of the protection of the cockpit and onto the cabin top, the full fury now hit me. Rain was everywhere, and the wind gusting so hard you could hear it go by. Every second counted. If I didn't get it done and out of there soon I would be completely drenched. So quickly I put up the smaller jib and could feel the lessening of pressure on the boat almost immediately.

In a while I came to the breakwater. There I suddenly noticed the stream that flowed from the land was aggressively flowing in the face of the waves - those coming in from the sea. It was actually causing a cross sea as the apposing waves hit each other. I thought nothing of it as I headed out until it dawned on me that the current from the river was coming in VERY strong and was about to push me onto the rocks. If I didn't do something smart immediately, I would only have a few more minutes before the unevitable! With all my effort I headed the boat directly against the flow and on a close reach I was able to gain ground against the deluge of water, leaves and branches. I'm so glad I knew little tricks of using the wind to my advantage. If I hadn't had the experience, it would have been lights out for my boat!

Finally getting out to sea, I found the wind had decreased a notch and had to go back out to the bow and put up the bigger genoa sail. 'Not again!' I thought. But the wind was playing with me, for after having just got the sail up and then the wind started increasing once more! Looking over the starboard side of the boat, I could see the northern mountains with dark storm clouds and mist hovering there. I realized then how the low of the storm was now in the east as the counter clockwise winds were now gusting from the north. I have to say that sailing into its teeth with the rain coming down again was very exciting! But soon I couldn’t even face the cold wind any more. I hid from it behind the cabin hatches and from behind a waterproof blanket. My gloves were now soaking with wetness and two of the three jackets I had on were soggy. So I changed out of these, put on new gloves and then poured some hot water from the thermos into a packet of hot chocolate that was now in my cup. Man alive, I felt better after drinking that! The warm clothes and gloves helped me come back to life too.

About a mile and half from shore, I tacked back and forth and eventually made it to the northern entrance of Marina Del Rey. As I came back in the harbor from out at sea, the storm was beginning to break up and the setting sun was even starting to show through the clouds. The sight was surreal and breathtaking! I took some pictures of it as fast as I could so that the drizzling rain (that still was coming down) would not ruin my camera phone. Soon the sunset was gone it was dark. Looking at the stern of the boat and the navigation lights were not on. I quickly checked below and of all things I noticed my battery had a bad connection. I looked over the port side and then noticed a big party boat coming my way! Wow, what timing. I began to lose my nerve a little but then took a big breath and got out my emergency lantern. Lighting it with a match, it then came on with a warm glow. I was then able to fiddle with the battery connectors and get the lights working again. Now they could see me and I was able to make it out of the way of the boat! Shortly afterwards my boat slid back into my slip on a fast beam reach. I was happy to get the sails down and go in the cabin and get warm again. Buttercup was happy to see me too!