We're currently sitting peacefully in the Santa Barbara marina. It's been a busy and eventful week with little sleep and much anxiety.
After the second of two storms swept through the bay area last week we made a run out the gate on Friday. As sailors know, it's bad luck to leave port on a Friday but we threw caution to the wind and took a chance.
We had an easy exit in sunny skies and made our final left turn down the coast. The forecast called for light winds and lumpy seas, so we planned to duck in at Half Moon Bay if the ride was too uncomortable. But by the afternoon all was well so we made the decision to continue on to Port San Luis -- a two-day sail away.
Neither of us had done much sailing recently so we were a little rusty with our boat handling skills. And, given that I was the only one on the boat that had ever done an overnight passage, there was an understandable level of anxiety with the crew. As the night progressed the wind and swell increased, heightening the tension on board.
We had a minor meltdown off Santa Cruz when the depth sounder suddenly dropped to 10 feet and the captain convinced himself that the chartplotter was leading us onto a beach. It turns out that depth sounders aren't very accurate in really deep water -- like the Montery canyon. I should have recognized this behavior since I'd seen it before on other boats but the combination of darkness and sleep deprivation resulted in an abrupt course change and upwind beat away from the coast. I've been much more attentive to navigation since that first night.
We were both happy to see the sunrise and had mostly uneventful although lumpy sailing over the next day and night until we finally approached Port San Luis where the wind shut down and a thick layer of fog fell over us. We crept in to the anchorage using GPS and radar as the sun came up on Sunday morning, dropped the hook, and sipped coffee as sea otters played in the kelp nearby.
The plan was to spend a couple days unwinding and visiting family nearby before making a late night departure for the Channel Islands. Point Conception, otherwise known as the Cape Horn of the West, stood between us and sunny southern California sailing. This landmass is best approached in the early morning to avoid the strong winds that typically blow around it. It was a good plan, a prudent plan -- a plan we quickly scrapped when I checked the weather again. The forecast showed two high pressure areas converging on Tuesday to create windy conditions along the coast. We decided to get south as soon as possible so we went back to the boat, got some sleep, and pulled up the anchor on Monday morning. We added a much welcomed crew member when my brother, Rick, joined us for the sail to Santa Barbara.
We sailed all through the night passing Conception around 10 pm. We saw moderate wind and the forecasted 6-8 foot swells but the boat handled it without issue under a conservative sail plan. I was expecting more weather as we rounded the cape and felt relieved that it didn't show.
My relief was short-lived, however, as a few hours later the wind began to blow. I turned off the autopilot and took the helm as the wind speed hit 30 gusting to 38. Again the boat handled it well and an hour later the wind fell off as quickly as it came on, leaving us with moderate conditions again.
As sunrise approached we were sailing along in flat water and a gentle southern California breeze. We steered for Prisoner's Harbor on Santa Cruz island and dropped the hook.
The next day was spent relaxing in the cockpit. We decided to hang out here for the night, do some fishing, and fire up the BBQ. Again, these plans were laid to waste when an evening NE breeze came up leaving us on a lee shore in 15 knots of wind.
Staring at rocks off the stern as the boat swings in the wind is not a comfortable feeling. So, we pulled up the hook and motor-sailed out into the channel. I was betting on the wind dying off with the sunset so we sailed around in circles for a while waiting for the anchorage to settle. If it didn't we were in for another long night at sea. Luckily I was right and the wind died off as the sun went down and we dropped the hook again a boat length from where we spent the day. At least we could all get some sleep.
In the morning, after coffee and a hot breakfast, we pulled up the anchor again and motored off into the channel. Rick had set up a ride home from Santa Barbara on Wednesday afternoon, so we made our way back to the coast and a snug berth at the harbor. We plan to spend a few days here visiting friends and taking care of some unfinished business before sailing for Catalina Island. But you know how it is with plans.
After a little over two months of sailing we finally put the Pacific Baja coast behind us and made our way to Cabo. Needless to say, it took a lot longer than I'd anticipated but the important thing is that we made it without any major issues, gear failures, or mutinies. 
Yesterday I took a 20-minute panga ride to the port of San Carlos for a provision run with some people from the other boats here. As we work our way down the coast we're sharing the anchorages with some very interesting and friendly people, many of which we've already met. 
We were happy to drop the hook at around 7 AM yesterday after a 3-day passage from Ensenada and immediatley went down for a nap. We had some nice sailing at times and motored when the wind died off. 
After two failed attempts we finally crossed the border and are now tied up at the Marina Coral in Ensenada, Mexico. 
The next stop will be Turtle Bay, a protected anchorage about half-way down the Pacific Baja coast. It's a 2-3 day sail from Ensenada and the longest leg for us. 
What a sailor's haven this is. There are boats everywhere, the sun is shining, and a nice westerly breeze comes up in the afternoon for some pleasant day sailing. I could really get used to this town. It's nice to get back to some bay sailing. And this bay doesn't require you to put a reef in before you leave the dock.
The last time I sailed to southern California was in June of 2009. That was on my friend, Gary's, boat when I crewed for him to the Channel Islands and then to Santa Barbara. I haven't spoken to Gary since that time. He continued south and dropped out of touch and I went back to Alameda and got married. I tried to contact him on a few occasions without much luck but heard a rumor that he was living in San Diego so I thought I try to find him when I got here. 
We're still on Catalina Island, sitting on a mooring in Avalon. This is a very busy little harbor. It feels like Disneyland after the last few anchorages we've been to. It's always buzzing with activity here, which is why we avoided the weekend. We're very comfortable at the moment, though. 
The next stop is San Diego. We plan to leave here tomorrow afternoon for an overnight sail so we can arrive in the daylight hours. We'll be spending at least a week there getting a few last minute things done and visiting family before heading south. Neither of us have ever been to SD so we're looking forward to it.
We're sitting at anchor in Prisoner's Harbor on Santa Cruz island after a nice day sail from Santa Barbara. 
The plan is to hang out here on Santa Cruz Island for a few days and then sail for Catalina Island. Rick and Maria are going to try and meet us there next weekend. I really hope they make it. It should be fun.
Colin did very well on his first sail, strapped in his car seat and watching everything happen with an intense gaze. He's been very comfortable on the boat so far -- a natural sailor.
And, the addition of a third panel provides a nice boost to the system. I mounted an 85-watt panel on the new hard dodger and wired it to the existing bus. By sheer luck the panel mounting holes lined up with the existing dodger mounting holes. So, I didn't have to drill any more holes in my shiny new dodger. I can't tell you how pleased this made me. 
After studying the cruising couple's blog I decided to do things a little differently. They took an FRP wall panel from Home Depot, tied it over the dodger frame, and layed 6 layers of fiberglass over the top. I liked the idea of the panel on the bottom. This would give it a nice finished look and cut in half the amount of fairing, sanding, and painting I would need to do. But instead of solid glass I decided to go with a foam core sandwiched between two layers of glass. This would result in a lot of strength and stiffness without a lot of weight. So, I bought a sheet of CoreCell, tied it over the frame, and cut it to size.
I spent countless hours over the next week filling, fairing, and sanding, followed by more filling, fairing, and sanding. Until, at last, I had a nice smooth finish that was ready for paint. A week later and I had 3 coats of glossy topside paint applied. The conceptual hard dodger that had been living in my head for months was finally becoming a reality. And, I have to say, it looked pretty good.
Last year I started researching reverse-osmosis watermakers. Since we plan to spend a lot of time in the Sea of Cortez and considering that my wife isn't really thrilled about salt-water showers I decided I'd better put one on the boat. 
In the process of removing the paint we uncovered a number of gelcoat blisters. These appear when water works it's way into small voids in the fiberglass. I expected to see a few of them and was prepared to grind them out and fill them wtih epoxy as needed. So, each time we came across a blister we'd turn the sander on it to open it up and dry it out. More and more blisters appeared from under those layers of paint until the hull looked like someone tossed a grenade at it. It was about this time that I also uncovered a large gash in the bottom of the keel hiding beneath old paint and boat caulk. It looked like a bad repair gone horribly wrong. This was going to take some time to fix.
So, my week of routine maintenance turned into two weeks of back-breaking labor. I guess that's to be expected with any estimate for a boat project. I was very thankful to get help from Ron and Ricky for a weekend and then spent the next week filling, sanding, and painting all the holes we put in the hull. I hired the yard to fix the botched keel repair which bought me some time on the yard rate increase, and got busy waxing. In the end I was able to get all the work done, and exactly two weeks after she came out Jean Marie went back in the water. 
We named him "Colin" because Millie really likes the name, and "Ash" in memory of his little cousin Ashley whom we all miss so much.
As Millie was wheeled off to the OR I suited up in "dad scrubs" and waited alone in the room for my call to join her. At this point we were both a little anxious and concerned but had trust in the very competent and attentive staff of doctors and nurses. We were in good hands.
