Before our trip to France, Dennis Dreith completed ASA 104 and 105. That's Bareboat Chartering and Coastal Navigation. We put the two together, doing the classroom work for navigation and then combining that with practical experience on an overnight trip to the islands. Conditions turned moderately rough on Day 2, but that was the icing on this most excellent of training cruises.
Dennis' narrative of the events follow -
Overnight to Santa Cruz Island
(or…“You can’t buy training like this!”)By Dennis DreithHaving completed the Basic Keelboat (101), Coastal Cruising (103), and Navigation (105), I was quite understandably excited to round out my basic sailing instruction by adding the Bareboat (104) certification, concluding with an overnight trip to Santa Cruz Island (the largest in the Channel Islands chain). Under the expert guidance of Captain Dan Ryder, we had trained and prepared diligently for this trip, which was the culmination (at least of this phase) of my basic instruction that began with my first sailing lesson just a brief 7 months prior to this trip. In fact, that initial lesson was my first real experience aboard any boat.
Arriving at Imagine at 0830 on the morning of our departure, to say that I was pumped up with the excitement of a Boy Scout on his first camping trip away from home would be a gross understatement. In fact, I felt like a kid again, which is saying quite a lot for a hardened entertainment industry executive in his mid 50’s!
By 0915 the ship had been made ready and Capt. Dan, David Feazel (the other student on board, who I can attest also felt like a kid again) and I got underway. Approaching the breakwater and heading for the open sea at 0930, we were greeted by calm seas and a gentle breeze too slight to warrant hoisting the sails. As a result, we decided to make for our first waypoint under power in the hope that another hour or so of daylight would produce the characteristically excellent sailing conditions in the channel. Our instincts proved correct and it wasn’t long before Mother Nature cooperated by producing 10 to 12 knots of wind. There was no doubt that Imagine felt much happier and more at home (as did her crew) under full sail than she had under power. To the uninitiated, it is almost impossible to describe the difference between how a ship feels under power and under sail, but suffice it to say that that sailing is how men and ships were meant to take to the sea.
Being the first student of our group to pass dreaded “Nav test,” I was assigned the task of ship’s navigator. This was something I relished as it gave me a chance to put into practical application what had been only theoretical up until this time. I will, however, admit that it is one thing to plot a course with your charts spread out on a large table in a classroom setting, and entirely a different matter to do so below deck at a small “nav” station with a boat pitching and rolling, and a crew depending on your speed and accuracy.
We arrived at our first waypoint—“Grace,” an oil derrick 12.4 NM from Channel Islands Harbor—on the course I had plotted and at our estimated time of arrival (no doubt attributed largely to Dan’s patient and thorough instruction). As we made way for the shipping lane, putting the mainland at our stern, the sense of excitement and adventure began to build (along with the wind and the realization that for our primary comfort and safety all we had to rely upon was ourselves and our ship).
By the time we arrived at Santa Cruz Island it was late afternoon, and as expected, the winds were beginning to blow considerably out of the NW, gusting to 20 knots. As a result, heading up to locate a suitable anchorage required a couple of tacks and was slow going. After exploring a couple of potential anchorages under power, we determined that given the wind and current, a small cove at the base of Diablo Point was a suitable location to spend the night. The cove itself is quite picturesque, forming a box canyon with steep cliffs on both sides of a small beach, with a sandy bottom. The cove was also the site of a stone quarry many years ago, with some evidence of the off loading of supplies and the loading of the stones still faintly remaining. The entire area is teaming with marine life including dolphins and sea lions as well as some quite unique varieties of colorful birds, indigenous to the islands, that all make their home there.
Despite the cove’s sandy bottom, anchoring did prove to be a bit of a challenge, requiring additional rode to be added to the existing bow anchor rode. After a couple of attempts, we had successfully secured both the bow and the stern anchor, and prepared to settle in for the evening following a couple of cold beers to reward our efforts.
As we unpacked the steaks and readied the Bar-B-Que, we discovered that not only did we not have any matches to light the Bar-B-Que, but the starter on the stove was also malfunctioning. At this point the self appointed three-man “LPG stove ignition and survival team” sprang into action, jury rigging a starter for the stove by manually holding a wire to a battery while igniting the stove (something we would have to repeat the next morning if we intended to have the requisite to begin any sailor’s day—hot coffee). Once this was accomplished, we fashioned a small paper torch to very carefully carry fire from below to what was rapidly becoming a fairly windy topside to light the Bar-B-Que. After several attempts (ultimately resulting in a sensational ignition and dramatic singing of Dan’s eyebrows), we were finally grilling what had to be the best tasting steaks any of us ever had. Rounding out the meal, were a couple of bottles of wine, including one I had personally hand carried from France and had been saving for a special occasion (which this certainly qualified as).
After dinner and getting the below deck area ship shape, weary from the day’s activities, we turned in (yet to realize that the best was still ahead), with Dan sleeping (sort of) topside to keep an eye on things. By 0100, the wind was howling and we were bouncing around pretty good, but the anchors were still holding and looked to stay that way through the night. At dawn we awoke to an absolutely spectacular sunrise over the mainland. Having our coffee after re-activating the three-man “LPG stove ignition and survival team” while discussing breakfast options, we noticed white caps building just outside the cove indicating that as strong as wind was in the cove, things in the channel were bound to get interesting.
We wisely decided against breakfast in favor of a timely departure. Despite the early hour, we had more than enough wind to get underway on sail alone without the aid of the engine. Sailing into the channel, we not only noticed white caps and 20 knots of wind, but also some very large and ominous looking storm clouds that appeared almost out of nowhere.
Sailing along the coast of Santa Cruz Island on a broad reach, the air became thick with moisture as the storm continued to build. Still unsure of whether or not we could out run the storm, we began to explore other suitable anchorages of which there are several. However, given the fact that ship’s stores now consisted of a dozen eggs, half a bag of “Chips Ahoy” cookies, half a loaf of bread, some assorted left over cold cuts, a few beers and some water, waiting out the storm seemed a fairly dismal prospect, especially since such an activity could easily take a couple of days!
We decided on a course along the coast of Santa Cruz, and on to Anacapa, where, if necessary, we could still find shelter.
Leaving “Prisoner’s” (Santa Cruz’s largest anchorage), we began to get some light precipitation prompting Dan to go below to don his foul weather gear in the likelihood that things would dampen considerably. We made our way into the channel, and fell off again to a broad reach to make way for Anacapa. As we were “knocked down” for a second time by winds that were now in excess of 30 knots, Dan was making his way topside trying to secure himself inside his foul weather gear (which was no small feat, given the ships movement). Peering up from below Dan was asking “…what the hell is going on up here?” to which David, who obviously has a flair for understatement answered simply “…just a little sailin’ boss.” Not to be “under-done,” I myself reported a tad bit of weather helm as the rails were planted in the water once again! Ever the analytical instructor, Dan calmly suggested that “reducing the sail area might not be a bad idea.” Dan and David immediately went to work reefing the main—God bless the inventor of the roller-furling main—which went quite a ways toward correcting what was by any account an excessive degree of heel.
After a quick tour of “Scorpion,” arguably the most picturesque Santa Cruz anchorage, and one I vowed to return to again, we began to make our way to Anacapa. Sailing in the lee of Santa Cruz, things calmed down quite a bit, but only momentarily, as we clearly maintained our position along the leading edge of the storm.
Arriving at the west end of Anacapa, it was obvious that we could easily make it home, but that we would have quite an interesting sail through “Windy Lane.” Heading up to cross the shipping lane, the winds were holding firm at 20 to 25 knots (and still gusting to 30+) giving a consistent 8.8 knots SOG (or solid 8.8 on the “fun meter” as Dan was prone to saying). On any other day in my past sailing experiences, even 15 to 20 knots of wind would seem severe, but after the experience of this trip, the confidence of learning what the ship can handle and what we were capable of as a crew, anything less than a 25 knot wind seemed like nothing more than a breeze!
There is no way to describe what a confidence builder and learning experience this trip was. But it is safe to say that prior to this, sailing in these conditions would have been at the very least uncomfortable. However, the training we gained, lessons learned and techniques practiced all came together making this one hell of a great time. In fact, not only did all three of us have huge smiles plastered to our faces all the way back to the Channel Islands Harbor, I don’t think even our collective daily grinds have been able to remove those smiles!
As we negotiated our way past the breakwater and into the harbor (all which still took some doing), Dan said “…you just can’t buy training like this,” to which David and I replied almost in unison “…we just did!” However, the real truth is that this was an unbelievable bargain, and perhaps the real crux of this is that while you can buy this kind of training, you just can’t pay too much for training like this! Even better yet is the fact that this kind of training builds the confidence to pursue the endless possibilities and challenges that the sea beckons.
