Gratitude Back in the Emerald City

June 26

Charlie stands by for the launch our beautiful boat.

Happily, Gratitude needed very little done at the end of this tour except a new coat of bottom paint. In his wisdom Charlie had scheduled a haulout soon after we expected to arrive home. During recent weeks we’d noticed some vibration when motoring at high revs. We took this to be from cavitation, but were not sure. Charlie removed our line cutter from the prop shaft, and added a few zincs. CSR completed the paint job and polished the prop. Outside the locks we revved up to full throttle. No more vibration! Not bad after all those miles! No doubt Charlie will add some statistics at a later date, but this is my last post. What a wonderful adventure we have had!

Cruising Back to our Home Waters

June 15

Gratitude hit the water late in the day right next to the Nanaimo seaplane dock. She was a bit gritty and salty from a week aboard ship, but otherwise fine. Luckily it was raining (and about 45°. Diane and I suddenly found a use for the newly knitted hats.) Charlie and I spent the night aboard and cleaned up on deck a bit as, dressed for a wet winter day, we headed out early to make the tide at Dodd Narrows.

The cruise home helped link boat life with our Seattle world. Diane and Ian joined us at the Royal Victoria YC the next day and we had a great sail to Roche Harbor where Customs was downright friendly, welcoming us home and skipping the refrigerator inspection. There was a little sightseeing for Diane on the way with Fathers Day lunch at the restaurant on the dock and provisioning at the store. Then we spent the night at Henry Island and proceeded to Port Townsend, sailing downwind almost all the way on a favoring tide!

June 19

On the fourth day the weather started to turn. We had sun over a glassy calm Sound as we motored the last leg to Shilshole and slid into our new slip next to the Steward’s sloop, Alert. Originally it was her voyage to Mexico that inspired ours. Chuck and Peggy’s advice guided many of our choices along the way. Thanks to them and all our helpful cruising friends!

Looking up the Sound at Point No Point and Whidbey Island with a bulk carrier in the shipping lanes.

Shawnigan Lake and Fun with the Marshes

June 13

Diane and her grandchildren

Naturally Charlie was glued to his iPhone's AIS tracking software for the next few days. Sure enough it took longer for the Pac Acrux to get north than planned. The destination was changed from Victoria to Nanaimo. We took the Victoria Clipper up to stay with Ian and Diane for a night in their little patch of paradise on Shanigan Lake. One night turned into two when the stevedores found the ship’s cranes didn’t pass a safety inspection.

This hat pattern may show an oystercatcher but
I think it's a hummingbird.
In the background is Emily's photo illustrating
a recent magazine article.

In spite of the extra wait, we had a great time with Ian and Diane. She took me to see Hill’s Cowichan trading post in Duncan where I met Emily, a manager of the store who’s a member of the local band. Sure enough along with all the other woolens, a partially knit sweater in a corner gave away her knitting sideline. We had a long visit discussing the authenticity of various practices in making the hats. She even showed me her cast-on technique, handed down to her by her mother. I’d never seen that before. In the room she also had a yarn spinner operated by a foot treadle. I learned that, like her, the women often spin their yarn themselves before knitting it. I got all kinds of new ideas for hat designs.

Kim and her eldest, Sierra, on the "mud" couch. Look at the back. Real branches! 

We also visited Diane's daughter’s family in the straw and mud house they constructed. No, the big bad wolf can’t blow it down, but a family of gnomes from Sweden might sneak in to live there. Ian calls it the mud hut. While we were gone, Charlie and Ian moved a load of gravel to shore up his bank and threw worms to the father bass fish guarding babies in the lakeside shallows. 

All Aboard the Pac Acrux

June 8

(Of course this date is a lie. It is really June 30, 2012 and I have postponed writing the official final post for this blog. Procrastination, a skill well learned by grade school, is only partly to blame. Home is much larger and more complicated than Gratitude’s 43 feet by 13.)

On the day the Pac Acrux inched into Ensenada harbor, Charlie and I were like little kids whose overworked dad drives into the garage long after dinner. We rushed over to watch and take photos, then rode our bikes to get a better view. Ensenada has a very small port dock but it’s defended by a tall cinderblock wall and many guards. Only from a great distance could we watch the crane and sling slowly unloading boats.  The next morning we drove our boat over to the tall green side of the ship, tied her up turning off everything, grabbed our travel bags, and with a final panga ride, left Gratitude to fend for herself.

The ship carried most of the sailboats on the bow. This shows the many tiedown straps and two cranes.

Getting too close for comfort, Charlie?

 Although Charlie had a final checklist, on the bus he started to worry about possible trouble with the bow thruster going off if its cockpit switch got wet. The thruster roaring away high over the deck somehow struck me as funny, but of course running the motor with the boat out of water would wreck it. Not sure if he had remembered to shut it off, he called the Loading Master who agreed to check the thruster circuit. 

Awaiting the YachtPath vessel we had rattled around in Ensenada, making daily runs to the Santo Tomas winery warehouse to replace the emptied bottles in our locker. Their Misión red really hit the mark. It’s a mix of carignan and tempranillo grapes, both new to us.  Making the most of our exit from Mexico we each carried two bottles, a change of clothes and our computers as we boarded a bus for Tijuana, the border crossing and an afternoon flight from San Diego to Seattle.  

As we approached the U. S. we saw the freeway traffic jam for miles and the famous fences that separates our countries. The Mexican fence is made of various materials, some graffitied and broken down. The U. S. fence is much taller with barbed wire at the top. The border crossing line was not what I had expected. It’s not like in an airport where you’re contained. Instead you get off the bus and go to the sidewalk. The sidewalk is crowded and everyone is headed the same direction. People don’t pass each other to get to the plentiful food stands and little tiendas. Most of the people are Mexicans who don’t carry bags like we did. They’re just going to work in San Diego and take it for granted that walking the few blocks to the check post interview will take an hour or so. Beggars and entertainers and even fundraising nurses worked the crowd as we shuffled along. The US officials barely looked at us, scanned our passports and waved us along. On the other side we found bright red trolleys waiting to whisk us right to the train station in San Diego.

Shortly after midnight we entered our house, greeted warmly by the cats and the familiar sights of home. Partly due to the unusually uncluttered surfaces, it seemed rather strange to us. I found myself watching my step very carefully as if in a new place. The house is quite short of handholds compared with the boat.

Ensenada

June 6

What’s really cool about our wait in Ensenada is that I’m using up my yarn. Okay, I did buy a bit in San Diego, but that was to contrast with some white-ish alpaca from Hood River for the replacement of my 40 year old Cowichan hat, a standby during all the outdoor fun we’ve had in cold or bad weather! Finally I knit the replacement and even wrote up a rule and what I know about the history of these hats. The second hat I knit just to try out another way of making the cuff turn up reliably.

Kid size traditional, old beloved, alpaca yarn with whale chased by a canoe.
 Okay, the canoe does look like a dead cat on its back or an elephant.

(It’s been a productive trip for knitting projects with 3 hats, 3 scarves, a couple of shorty mittens, 2 sweaters and a pair of slippers now in the works.)

Big bull attempts to board the dock.

Meanwhile, while packing and securing everything on deck, Charlie has been entertained by local efforts to repel sea lions across from us. He even succeeded in scaring one off the dock just by yelling.

A towering tho' very neat example of de crap.

A scarelion who fell down on the job. Good thing he had
a helmet on to protect his bleach bottle head.

Charlie also photoed a number of cruising boats here with impressive crap on de back.

After a certain amount of unrigging and packing, the boat is ready for our YachtPath pickup tomorrow. We ate the perishables and used all the ice cubes in our drinks tonight. All we have to do is clean up the icebox, pickle the watermaker and pack our overnight bags tomorrow before the Pac Accrux, a giant bulk carrier ship, comes into the harbor to load Gratitude. Next stop Victoria!

Last Chance for Tourists

May 30 - June 3

While waiting for “our ship to come in,” that is the bulk carrier hired by Yachtpath to pick up Gratitude in Ensenada, we had a few more extra days than expected. Admittedly this wait generated a certain amount of frustration, but there’s lots to see in San Diego.

Tropical tree ferns in Balboa Park Botanical Garden
 took me back to New Zealand.

Escargot Begonia in Botanical Garden

Amazing variety of colored koi in Japanese Garden pool

One lovely afternoon I visited the gardens of Balboa Park.

Model of the Star of India in high seas off Cape of Good Hope
gives the feeling of what conditions were like on many roundings.

Sample of stained glass on the Berkeley.

Another day we found ourselves at the Maritime Museum, a fine collection of ships along the waterfront. My favorite was the Berkeley ferry. It was beautifully restored, all the wooden seats, varnished, brass rails polished and stained glass all around the passenger deck. I could picture it unloading survivors from the SF earthquake at the now ruined dock that stretches about half a mile into the bay. Charlie loved the Surprise, formerly the Rose, of Master and Commander fame, and the Star of India, a real cargo vessel, miraculously plucked from the age of sail and rescued by skilled craftsmen. We saw fascinating video of these men, many of them elderly, who rebuilt the decks and the rig, restoring her to sailing condition.

Star of India, on deck next to the spanker.

Finally with an assist from the bus system I took a bike ride the length of Coronado Island, now a peninsula, where the famous example of Victorian excrescence, the Hotel Del (Coronado) is located. Entering via the driveway, I was accosted by an employee who shouted as he ran, “Get off your bike. Bikes aren’t allowed on the property.” Luckily, he was needed elsewhere. I carried my bike up a few stairs, left it unobtrusively in a grassy corner, and took the View Walk through the gardens to an overlook where the pool, beachside restaurant and thousands of beach umbrellas blew next to the surf. Nice view, slightly more delicious for its illicit access.

Hotel Del Coronado

The long peninsula’s inner beach had been fenced off to prevent disturbing least tern nests. The Navy takes credit for that. I got my fill of straight flat windy bike path going down to Imperial Beach and back. 

Ocean beach and restaurants,  popular in spite of dark, windy conditions.

Around Mission Bay on Two Wheels

Start of Mission Bay ride —the new baby is on the right

Tuesday, May 29

(Possibly this post is more of a candidate for Crazy Guy on a Bike...)

Having straightened out the fit of my new Bike Friday, we looked for a good ride. Last fall, our friends, California authorities Bob and Carolyn, suggested pedaling around Mission Bay, just north of Point Loma (a giant hill) and the various YC’s we’ve stayed at. Having a rental car makes a big difference in the places you choose to go for activities. We simply drove over, parked on the east side and off we rode for a flatland circuit of about 16 miles.

The route is very well signed. Basically it follows the shores of this large, multi-lobed inland bay, really more like a lake than a bay. We passed the vast Sea World parking areas and watched shrieking kids, on year end field trips, I presume, plummeting down the roller coaster. 

A variety of beach rescue vehicles are all equipped with surfboards
Cones mark their special driving lane on the sand.

Arriving at the ocean we were dazzled by the “boardwalk” activity at Mission Beach. (Really it's a concrete strip.) No beach in the cool northwest has ever been so popular! Thousands of people had turned out on this bright, warm weekday afternoon. Strollers, joggers, bikers, musicians, surfers, volleyball players and bathers of all kinds flowed past. Apparently everyone in California’s beach scene has a tattoo. Somehow we managed to ride the length of this strip without collision. 

The quiet side of Mission Bay: rusting paddle wheeler,  flat water, perfect for the ever popular stand up paddleboards. 

Midway Memorial Day

Charlie with helicopter pilot Chuck Smiley. Blades and tail folded on helo behind.

Sunday, May 27
Okay, technically we didn’t choose either Monday, the 28th or the 31^st to celebrate this day. But why should there be only two choices for remembering our wars and warriors? It was sunny, a lovely morning, luring us out before the crowds got bad. Dodging our way through the Portuguese community’s Espritu Santo parade, we drove to free street parking downtown and biked to the Midway, the giant aircraft carrier that dominates the Embarcadero on San Diego’s waterfront.

Great day for sailing in old boats too. View from hangar level.

For seniors the admission was $15, as it turned out a great bargain for an entire day’s entertainment.

When you enter the ship, on the hangar level, you’re handed one of those audio tours. The narrators, in many cases servicemen who lived on the Midway and flew planes and helicopters from its decks, relate specific experiences of their tours of duty. In addition to this audio presence we were surprised to see tables manned by various interest groups including active members of the Navy from mechanics to representatives of the “green” office downtown. They were available to explain their various jobs and projects. We later learned that these volunteers only make an appearance once a year! I talked with the environmental officer a bit about handling of waste products from ships and her department’s restoration efforts on Coronado Island.

A real chip log with lead weights imbedded and knots in
twine visible on spool. The old timer is a nice touch.

Meanwhile Charlie toured the engine room and then, going to the café on the fantail for a sandwich, he encountered several retired volunteers who included him in their conversation. One was Chuck Smiley, a helicopter pilot who had been a leader in getting the city to allow the Midway to become a permanent fixture of the harbor. It took almost ten years to get all the necessary permits and bonds. Chuck was so committed that at one point he signed over his house as collateral! With attendance far exceeding estimates, the Midway is now pulling her weight in ticket sales. None of the original sponsors had to lose a home or even a shirt.

View of the flight deck from the Island with Chuck's Sea King at right.

 Later, on the flight deck, we visited Chuck’s helicopter. He told us about his training for the Apollo 10  splashdown and the dramatic Apollo 13 recovery mission in the Pacific. He showed us his notebook full of newspaper clippings and documents. His narration was also included on the audio tour. We talked with a few other pilots and took tours of both the bridge and the air traffic tower housed in the carrier’s “island”. Every half hour the time in bells rang out on loud speakers and an announcement would sound, for example sending all sailors out on liberty except those on restriction! 8 bells in the afternoon found us sitting on the rough grey deck awaiting a stroke of the baton for the first piece of the Southwest Navy Band, all wind instruments and percussion, playing a concert of symphonic and patriotic compositions. It was a thrill to witness these young professional musicians in their whites playing for the enthusiastic Sunday crowd. Charlie, longing for a Sousa march, was pleased that their encore was The Stars and Stripes Forever, with the piccolo player standing up in front to play her solo!

What a view of this famous huge scale kiss in the park next to the Midway!

La Jolla, uncovering a bit of Helens past

Friday, May 25

Charlie’s mother used to talk about the Bishop’s School, way off in California, where her parents had sent her, all the way from Ipswich, Mass, for somewhat mysterious reasons, to board for a couple of years. I’d seen old photos of her and Charlie’s Great Aunt Helen, who worked at the school, with exotic plants in the background. Although the school didn’t inspire much curiosity in her son, probably due to being a teacher all those years, I harbored a secret desire to see the place.

From Corona del Mar (Balboa YC) we took a bike ride to Laguna Beach, a scenic route along the shore with several miles of trail in the Crystal Cove bluff park. Our destination was a store with the biggest selection of folding bikes in the state! On returning to San Diego we rented a car and drove back to pick up a new folder for me which will fit much more easily into the lazarette. Driving back in heavy traffic on “the Five” didn’t seem like much fun so we took Highway One, aka the PCH, our old friend, with hopes of finding another nice bike ride on the way back to SD.

There was a shady pathway around the
 chapel. Lovely spot for a quiet retreat.

When we got to La Jolla Charlie surprised me by offering to stop at The Bishop’s School. It was late afternoon as we drove through the old town and by now the sun had driven off the rain clouds. The chapel tower, an easy landmark, stood tall at the north corner of the school. We made our way through new construction and found ourselves at the grassy quadrangle with old buildings on one side. A covered walkway bordered with lovely gardens invited us to stroll and look into classrooms and offices. Luckily we encountered a a woman who explained that this had been graduation day and in the evening alumni were coming for dinner. She encouraged our tour. 

Charlie prepares to enter the chapel from the quad.

The chapel door was open. Inside we found plaques on the wall with brass name plates with the name of each graduate.  Sure enough in the ranks of the class of 1924 we found Helen Gould Kimball, Charlie didn’t really know that she had graduated from there. In her day the school was only for girls. Above the benches, where the girls must have sat at least weekly, stained glass windows displayed the crests and mottos of colleges including the “seven sisters” one of which was Vassar, Helen’s (HGK’s) future alma mater. What an interesting way to inspire girls to push on to higher education.

Helen Gould Kimball, Class of 1924

From the school a short ride along a bike trail in La Jolla made us doubly glad to have taken this detour.

Allure of Newport Beach

Allure and Gratitude

May 20

Ha, I thought looking at a sailboat close astern, that can't be a Malo. We were approaching Newport Harbor to berth at the Balboa Yacht Club. We know all the Malos on the west coast and none make this a home port. Charlie came on deck. Now both of us agreed, this WAS a Malo 43, a sister ship of Gratitude.

Slowing our progress I let the other boat pass, waving at the crew, and reading her stern. Allure. Never heard of her. Hmmm. We followed her into the harbor and found her pulling up at Balboa's dock. Great. As soon as we could get ashore, we raced over to introduce ourselves. The owners, Brian and Pat Newton used to live in England where they had not one, but two Malos, first a 39, then this 43 which was later shipped to California. They kindly gave us a tour and we adjourned to the bar for a chat. What fun to discover another member of the clan!

A Cruisers' Guide to Santa Catalina Island

Avalon Harbor with Wrigley's Casino on the far shore.

May 16-19

Cruising southern California style requires a linear approach, sailing up or down the coast from one navel-like harbor, manmade and marina lined, to the next, unless you jump off to the Channel Islands at Santa Barbara or head to Catalina. Having zipped past on the way down, we chose to spend our bonus days whilst awaiting Yachtpath’s (ever retreating) loading date checking out "the island of romance."

Music has informed many non-Californians of the offshore island most visited by folks from LA to San Diego. We learned that Santa Catalina was 26 miles across the sea (from the 4 Preps!) and from Al Jolson (lifting a melody from Puccini) that Avalon is beside the bay where flying fishes play. In contrast to this romantic view, California cruisers we’ve consulted often scoff at the commercialism of the place and advise against a visit. However pre-Memorial Day appeared a fairly low key window for us.

On the way over we didn’t see a single flying fish. Instead we found amazing the number of mylar balloons shining on the water. We picked up several to throw out and later learned from the Harbor patrol that they are a constant problem around here.

Avalon, actually a city, supports the largest harbor on the island. There are over 200 mooring balls set with bow and stern ties to squeeze in as many visiting boats as possible. The town wasn’t known for much until Mr. Wrigley (of chewing gum fame) decided that he wanted to buy the island and make it available to all for fun and entertainment. Mr. Wrigley owned the Cubs baseball team in Chicago. He had a field constructed in Avalon for the Cubs’ spring training. He also built a casino for dances, concerts, plays and movies where many big bands played and the first “talkies” were premiered. A fancy ferry (picture the old Princess Marguerite of Seattle to Victoria fame) brought people from the mainland, welcomed them with bands playing and dancing girls. To add to the glamour, over time more than 100 films were shot on the island bringing a bit of Hollywood flair.

Well, the dancing girls are gone, replaced by plenty of vendors at the end of the town dock. We missed a film festival by a few days and found the enormous mooring field pretty empty. Ashore, the high school kids walking their bi-weekly 4 mile loop for P. E., passed us as we made our way up to the Botanical Garden and monument, a rather strange art deco building built to honor William Wrigley. Along the way we noted a colony of raucous acorn woodpeckers inhabiting the numerous palm and eucalyptus trees. Strange how California has these imported trees lining all the roads, but at least the woodpeckers like them. The Botanical Garden is a collection of cactus from all over the world.

We watched bikers headed uphill to the garden rolling by us without pedaling. Intrigued, Charlie investigated similar parked machines and found they were electric. We had to try them! Renting a couple right at the ferry dock, we took off to check out the roads you can reach from Avalon. It turns out that a Conservancy founded by the Wrigleys owns about 90% of the land and wants it to stay in its original state (except for the non-native plants and bison that old William added to the landscape). There are a lot of good hikes, but few roads beyond Avalon. The bikes took us up to the old Wrigley mansion, Mt Ada, and great views. It’s a very hilly island. A few miles north of town we stopped to watch a family taking their first zipline rides. Our folding bikes stayed in their sail bags below decks unaware of our straying affections.

 Theater interior, designed by Robert Beckman and completed in three months!

Another high point was a behind the scenes tour of the Casino, still owned by the Wrigleys. The murals on the entry walls and inside of the theater are extraordinary. The staff maintain the original 1926 movie projectors and an 85 year old Page pipe organ. Upstairs is a huge ballroom. From the balcony we could look down into the clear waters where bright orange garibaldi fish swam among the 40 foot giant kelp fronds.

Most of the anchorages and hundreds of mooring balls are on the east side of the island. After a few nights at Avalon, we moved up to the other big harbor, Two Harbors, locally knows as “the Isthmus” where we picked up another mooring at Fourth of July Cove. 

Hike from Two Harbors, Gratitude at mooring in 4th of July Cove.

We took a hike across the island to Cat Harbor and then up into the hills returning all hot and dusty for a swim before dinner. A perfect day. 

The Casino fascinated us with a sort of Moorish art deco style and history. It's hard to resist taking hundreds of pix there. Stop looking here if you're not interested.

Mermaid over ticket booth, updated from painted mural to tile just a few years ago

Upstairs Ballroom with stage for musicians, balcony outside.

Original carbon arc movie projectors, still in operation!

Detail from undersea themed outside entry murals

Painted panel with fanciful sea theme at north end 

of entry. Beckman wanted to tile all these panels

 but ran out of time.

Ballroom light detail with rotating reflector "disco ball" before its time!

Another ballroom detail: silver leaf on panel cameo

Page pipe organ in the theater.

Wrigley started a tile company on the
island to manufacture tile for his build-
ings. There are examples everywhere.
The designs and colors are extraordinary.
The war ended this enterprise after 10
very successful years.

Back home in the USA!

The San Diego Customs Dock with the SWYC marina up channel, Pt Loma to the left and beyond.

May 14

Although we arrived in San Diego several days ago, it has taken a while to get past the wonders of living in our own country again and to think about posting. Just for the record, we cast off from here on November 7 and tied up at the Customs dock on May 8, making it six full months in Mexico, the longest time span we’ve ever spent out of the country. (Well, once, before we were married, Charlie managed a 10 month visit to a small SE Asian country, all expenses covered by Uncle Sam.)

Aside from being snugly tied to a dock in flat water, what made being back in the USA so grand? Well, first of all, the Customs people were reasonable. At sea I’d cooked up all the odds and ends of fresh foods into a sublime goulash on which we fed until the last day’s lunch, adding wine to the pot in hopes of diminishing the ship’s stores to a legal limit. Being used to the draconian measures taken at the US-Canadian border, we were delighted to find that the Customs people here don’t even ask about alcohol. All they really cared about was properly displaying our up-to-date US Customs and Border Patrol decal on the boat.

Our friend Frank drove us to Point Loma for a view of San Diego's harbor.

Second, we phoned to see if Southwestern Yacht Club had guest moorage, open right across from the Customs dock. They did! No language struggle to explain the name and size of the boat, and our plans. We were legally admitted to the country and safely tied up all within about an hour of crossing the border!  Then, to add the final a welcoming touch, out of nowhere, a voice shouted, “Welcome to San Diego!” Astonishing us, an SWYC member walked down the dock, holding out his arms and greeted us as the long absent travelers we are. The next day he took us home to do laundry, out grocery shopping and answered questions to help us get set. Incredible.

Small things matter. We notice them every day. I can read all the traffic signs and signs in the stores, speak to anyone on the street and be easily understood. The mail works again! Dinner occurs at the time we’re used to: restaurants have staff and customers at that time. There is India Pale Ale, lots of choices, and terrific local brews. Grocery shopping with a list we find all the items, glow with joy as we see a huge range of green veggies and fruits seldom available over the last half year. At the zoo we could understand spoken directions and informational talks, all of the words!! Sidewalks tend to be continuous and not full of holes, huge steps and broken concrete.  There are big trees, really wooded areas, in town, no cactus forests.

At the zoo we were fascinated by the colobus monkeys sleeping three storeys up. (Zoom in on upper guy.)

I could go on, but suffice it to say we loved our time in Mexico and will always feel kinship with Mexicans as fellow Americans. But it the great words of Dorothy, after seeing Oz, “There's no place like home!”