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    On the Wind
    On the Wind
    On the Wind
    Ebook184 pages1 hour

    On the Wind

    By Phil McCaleb

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    About this ebook

    Anyone who has stood on the deck of a boat under sail, dreamed of far off places, or felt even a tinge of wanderlust will delight in this often tongue-in-cheek tale of chasing the wind at sea. Captured by his camera, the author offers a tantalizing tale as he takes you on a three year voyage from under the span of the “Golden Gate” to some 5,000 miles south along the coasts of the Americas. You’ll enjoy near daily visits by schools of playful dolphin, sightings of whales, an ever changing palate of seascapes, mountains that pierce the sky, clouds that take your breath away, and dazzling sunsets offering kaleidoscopic arrays of color. You may even feel an adrenalin rush of a sea rescue, an actual shipwreck, a race at sea and -- as if that’s not enough -- a heart pounding, mind piercing, nerve shattering, life threatening attack by a seriously venomous sea monster. You’ll laugh, be enchanted by people, places, and sea life – and may even shed a tear or two along the way.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPhil McCaleb
    Release dateDec 14, 2016
    ISBN9781370026333
    On the Wind
    Author

    Phil McCaleb

    Phil McCaleb practiced law in northern California for more than 32 years, and taught law related classes at the university level for 24 years. He has previously authored a monograph titled Race, Poverty, and the Public Service, written under a grant from the Danforth Foundation, and has co-authored Cruising Notes, What to Know Before You Go (now in its sixth edition); and Cruising Notes, Underway to Mexico. The latter two books have been written in connection with sailing seminars he has conducted for eight years. His current book, On the Wind, is a tongue-in-cheek tale of three years of chasing the wind at sea.

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      Book preview

      On the Wind - Phil McCaleb

      Headwinds, a flood tide, cold and gloom met us when we stuck the nose of Shiraz, our home at sea, out from under the Golden Gate on a blustery August morning - not a happy beginning. It reminded me of a dark September night in 2001, when, having just bought her, I skippered Shiraz to sea for the first time, heading south from Puget Sound to San Francisco. As the sun faded that evening leaving a chill in the air, I had tried to warm myself with thoughts of the places Shiraz might take us in the years ahead. Now, more than a decade later, I again sought warmth in thoughts of what new adventures might lay ahead as we pointed to sea, leaving the Gate behind us.

      Our plan was simple: turn left, slowly work our way south along the coast, round Point Conception and slide into the warmth of southern California anchorages. Next, harbor hop leisurely through the Channel Islands to San Diego and join the Baja Ha Ha fleet departing for Mexico in October. We would then enjoy the warmth and hospitality of Mexico and Central America before jumping the Panama Canal and striking out across the Caribbean to climb the east coast of the U.S. The plan was simple enough and seemed eminently doable. The boat was sound, provisioned and generally ready to go. The stars were aligned and the First (and only) Mate in the person of my wife, Nora, had also voiced readiness to put to sea.

      That said, I have to admit that one small chink in the armor of our plan lingered with some insistence in the far depths of my mind. Spawned by a statement made ten years earlier by a sailing friend and neurosurgeon was a concern that, despite my relative youth and stately physique, I had the spine of a ninety year old. It wasn’t something I agonized over, yet it was there, lingering in the deep recesses of my psyche. And besides, what do neurosurgeons really know - even those with national reputations? I had, after all, already had three back surgeries, the last by the aforementioned friend and national expert, and so assured myself that I must therefore be in better shape than a twenty year old. Besides, Nora and I had both retired early to afford me a little added anti-aging insurance for what we planned to be the cruise of a lifetime.

      Tucking such thoughts back into the far reaches of my consciousness, my spirits brightened, the sky got bluer, and the world seemed to turn a little slower. As if to punctuate my somewhat forced optimism, a pod of dolphins, more than we had ever seen so close to the Golden Gate, joined us near Mile Rock to escort us to our turn south. Hours later we narrowly cleared the path of two northbound whales when they breached in unison, as if choreographed. It was a sight we had never before seen in our years of sailing. I decided, after all, that our karma couldn’t be better, and informed the First Mate with somewhat orgasmic glee, that we were indeed on our way.

      What follows is our account, admittedly somewhat tongue- in-cheek on occasion, of where the wind took us in the next three years. Before moving on, however, this seems an appropriate place to acknowledge that the title of this literary masterpiece is perhaps a slight misnomer designed more to entice the reader rather than be a totally accurate description of our journey. Besides, as titles go, it just has decidedly more allure to it than something like Rarely On the Wind. Really, who would read a book with a title like that? I also just like it better and a little creative license is a writer’s prerogative. Besides, it isn’t completely untrue. The wind does blow with some frequency south of the boarder, if often in an undesirable direction.

      Under Way

      Having made our way south to Monterey, demons, mostly imagined, kept us there several days. But at the stroke of midnight on the fourth day, we turned our pumpkin into a coach and headed for the little bay below Hearst Castle at San Simeon, our favorite anchorage on the Pacific coast. Craggy bluffs and lush trees ring the water’s edge, gentle rollers break on a beach at the north end and a photo view of the castle sits above. We enjoyed our first sunset, breathing it all in and sipping wine to the rhythm of the boat while watching the surf sliding up the beach.

      San Simeon Bay

      We were at sea in rain the next day, more than a little thankful that we had included a full cockpit enclosure while preparing the boat. It quickly assumed a spot on our list of must have items and remained in place over the cockpit until deep into Mexico, keeping us warm and dry during fog, rain, overcast conditions or merely cold nights. Surprisingly, the number of whales heading north was astounding. Dolphins also continued to find us of interest and one pod played in our bow wake for twenty minutes just north of San Luis Obispo. We could have touched them as they sprang playfully from under the bow.

      After rounding Point Conception, the Cape Horn of the California coast, without incident we ducked into the Cojo anchorage just to the southeast for the night. We had missed Cojo on previous passes of Conception and were glad to finally get a look at it. The anchorage offers a stark, barren appeal that is in contrast to most stops we look for but, as we had always heard, it is definitely well positioned for attempts at Conception from either direction. It is not well protected from southerlies though and kelp can be an issue. It took us an hour to clear our anchor of a pick-up bed sized ball of kelp though we had anchored in clear water.

      We next jumped to Santa Barbara for fuel and provisions, then on to Oxnard for some time ashore with old friends. This leg finally provided our first, albeit short, opportunity to actually sail so we shook out our asymmetrical spinnaker for the first time since leaving San Francisco.

      From Oxnard, we sailed all day out to the northern most of the Channel Islands and lazed there doing minor boat projects and reading for several days. Things got a little bumpy at times, so we deployed our, new to us, flopper-stopper to happily find that the thing actually worked. We eventually discovered that since we had a spinnaker pole, the best way to deploy the flopper-stopper was to hang it from the end of the spinnaker pole on one side of the boat and push the boom all the way out to the other side to effectively act as a counterweight. Though we never found it necessary, we have also seen people add weight to the end of their booms in that configuration to further offset the downward pull of the flopper-stopper. A bucket of water seems to work for this. Both the spinnaker and boom will need lines tied to keep them in place.

      The Cojo anchorage, looking northwest

      The Rescue

      At this point, we must report with the utmost humility and merely in passing, a daring sea rescue by Shiraz and crew. It happened on our last day at Santa Cruz Island and started when Ed, a self-described surfer dude, paddled up to Shiraz on his board and woke us from our afternoon nap. He excitedly announced that his thirty foot stinkpot (that’s a power boat to you landlubbers), with two other adults and their children aboard, was without power and, with only sixty feet of anchor rode out, was dragging toward the rocks as he spoke. Wiping the sleep from our eyes, we looked around to see that Ed’s boat was indeed dragging toward shore. With the precision of a well oiled team (we’d finished our early afternoon wine), the crew of Shiraz sprang (sort of) into action, pulled up our anchor, and sped to the dragging stinkpot with its several young children now huddled together in fear on the boat’s bow.

      The Skipper (that’s me), noted as we approached the stinkpot that the wind and seas were building at an alarming rate. Shiraz made two unsuccessful passes trying to toss a tow line to another adult male who was now also on the bow of the stinkpot. Success was accomplished on the third pass but the wind kicked Shiraz sideways just as she picked up the slack in the line and began to pull. The strain on the line forced the stinkpot’s anchor to dig in before her crew could get it up, which then pulled Shiraz herself menacingly

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