We're pulling out at 11 pm so this update will be short and sweet.
I'm hoping to get two hours of sleep.
We left Crescent Schitty at 5am on Friday, hoping to be in Trinidad by 2pm. Ideal wind and perfect swells pushed us here by noon. It was a great sail although things got a little stronger than we'd have liked as we rounded Trinidad Head.
The whole fishing fleet is gone, and all the little moorings have been pulled for the winter.
We're the only boat in the Bay. It is a little disconcerting.
There are plenty of good reasons not to be sailing in Northern California right now.
Since we're anchored off, we had to pull the dinghy off the bow and use that to get to and from town. Lo and behold, it has a pretty substantial leak. This doesn't surprise me.
If it can break, it will break. Murphy's Law reigns supreme in sailing.
There are plenty of good reasons not to be sailing in Northern California right now.
Since we're anchored off, we had to pull the dinghy off the bow and use that to get to and from town. Lo and behold, it has a pretty substantial leak. This doesn't surprise me.
If it can break, it will break. Murphy's Law reigns supreme in sailing.
Actually using a sailboat is a lot of work... especially if said sailboat doesn't have a bunch of silly little motors that do all the work for you... but its completely worth it.
Trinidad is one of the most beautiful places either of us has been. Words can't do justice to the natural beauty here. It kicks ass.
Though its been a short stay, the people have been extremely welcoming and friendly.
The first guy we met in town, an archangel of a man, set us up with a ride to go kiting and offered to let us stay at his house.
The ride he set us up with lives completely off the grid and became a fast friend.
We kited Big Lagoon and it was incredible. Ideal wind but the meanest, steepest, heaviest shorebreak either of us has ever seen. I got out once and caught the ride of my life coming back in. Then I got throttled a dozen times and decided to stick to the amazing
REDWOOD LINED LAGOON across the dunes.
There were no kiters, but a few speed demon windsurfers shared the water with us.
This morning we hiked Trinidad Head (great views) and then went back to "The Beachcomber" coffeeshop in search of eats and another ride to go kiting.
We found it in the form of the first hardcore, pure surfer I think I've ever met. He was great to talk to.
He drove a crusty old Toyota with a little dog in it. Three boards and a wetsuit in the bed. I can't imagine paddling out in frigid Northern Cali waters, but he's been doing it for twenty years.
That very morning, he'd been surfing 12 foot "kegs" at a secret spot where he has previously been attacked by a 16-18 foot GREAT WHITE.
A GIGANTIC KILLER FISH TRIED TO EAT HIM.
I saw the scar.
Ten days after the attack he was back in the water.
He took us to a beach where we had the best kiting of our lives. This didn't surprise me. He knows this stretch of coastline like Stephen Koch knows the Tetons.
As the waves were dying and wind shifting towards the shitty a few local kiters showed up. They were the first kiters we've met on the trip and all great guys.
There's definitely a big future in kiting around Trinidad, which is as nice a little town as anyone could ever hope for. I think it has something to do with Humboldt being the growroom for the USA.
Looking at the models, buoys, and assorted forecasts it looks like the swell is dropping from 7-10 feet to 2-4 feet for the next 20 hours. Also, the nuclear winds are going to subside in a few hours and winds in the teens should linger until late afternoon.
Then things are going to pick up again, both wind and swellwise. We need to get around Cape Mendocino and into relatively safer waters before that happens.
Hence the planned 11pm departure.
After Cape Mendocino, we're more or less stuck out there for another 200+ miles to Bodega or Half Moon Bay. Fortunately, after tomorrow evening, conditions look ideal for the remainder of the sail.
Maybe we should have driven to Baja like everyone else.
Just kidding.
This trip is really making me realize how dependent I've been on oil for every aspect of my life. Its pretty disgusting, really. Even in this quaint little hippie town, 19 of 20 people you see go driving by.
Today I saw a monsterous, brand new, $400,000 RV lurching around a corner. It had Minnesota plates.
All these frowny jokers are burning it up, blasting exhaust right up the future's ass.
QUESTION:
Why are the old selling their McMansions and going coast to coast in tourbuses?
ANSWER:
So they can watch satellite TV from a different zipcode every night.
I'm over watching it all fall apart. Hence, El Viaje.
We're getting this sailing thing down to mountaineering-jaunt-like standards of "on it".
I'm gradually coming to believe that we're not going to sink.
Hopefully, we can just keep going.
Vamos a veer.
Trinidad is one of the most beautiful places either of us has been. Words can't do justice to the natural beauty here. It kicks ass.
Though its been a short stay, the people have been extremely welcoming and friendly.
The first guy we met in town, an archangel of a man, set us up with a ride to go kiting and offered to let us stay at his house.
The ride he set us up with lives completely off the grid and became a fast friend.
We kited Big Lagoon and it was incredible. Ideal wind but the meanest, steepest, heaviest shorebreak either of us has ever seen. I got out once and caught the ride of my life coming back in. Then I got throttled a dozen times and decided to stick to the amazing
REDWOOD LINED LAGOON across the dunes.
There were no kiters, but a few speed demon windsurfers shared the water with us.
This morning we hiked Trinidad Head (great views) and then went back to "The Beachcomber" coffeeshop in search of eats and another ride to go kiting.
We found it in the form of the first hardcore, pure surfer I think I've ever met. He was great to talk to.
He drove a crusty old Toyota with a little dog in it. Three boards and a wetsuit in the bed. I can't imagine paddling out in frigid Northern Cali waters, but he's been doing it for twenty years.
That very morning, he'd been surfing 12 foot "kegs" at a secret spot where he has previously been attacked by a 16-18 foot GREAT WHITE.
A GIGANTIC KILLER FISH TRIED TO EAT HIM.
I saw the scar.
Ten days after the attack he was back in the water.
He took us to a beach where we had the best kiting of our lives. This didn't surprise me. He knows this stretch of coastline like Stephen Koch knows the Tetons.
As the waves were dying and wind shifting towards the shitty a few local kiters showed up. They were the first kiters we've met on the trip and all great guys.
There's definitely a big future in kiting around Trinidad, which is as nice a little town as anyone could ever hope for. I think it has something to do with Humboldt being the growroom for the USA.
Looking at the models, buoys, and assorted forecasts it looks like the swell is dropping from 7-10 feet to 2-4 feet for the next 20 hours. Also, the nuclear winds are going to subside in a few hours and winds in the teens should linger until late afternoon.
Then things are going to pick up again, both wind and swellwise. We need to get around Cape Mendocino and into relatively safer waters before that happens.
Hence the planned 11pm departure.
After Cape Mendocino, we're more or less stuck out there for another 200+ miles to Bodega or Half Moon Bay. Fortunately, after tomorrow evening, conditions look ideal for the remainder of the sail.
Maybe we should have driven to Baja like everyone else.
Just kidding.
This trip is really making me realize how dependent I've been on oil for every aspect of my life. Its pretty disgusting, really. Even in this quaint little hippie town, 19 of 20 people you see go driving by.
Today I saw a monsterous, brand new, $400,000 RV lurching around a corner. It had Minnesota plates.
All these frowny jokers are burning it up, blasting exhaust right up the future's ass.
QUESTION:
Why are the old selling their McMansions and going coast to coast in tourbuses?
ANSWER:
So they can watch satellite TV from a different zipcode every night.
I'm over watching it all fall apart. Hence, El Viaje.
We're getting this sailing thing down to mountaineering-jaunt-like standards of "on it".
I'm gradually coming to believe that we're not going to sink.
Hopefully, we can just keep going.
Vamos a veer.