Avalon

[Kyle]We were up for what seemed like an unfairly early requirement to vacate our mooring by 8:00. The sun only came up at 7:15. All right. Well, it's not like we had anything else we wanted to do.

We had a nice downwind sail along the southwestern side of the island and were at Avalon harbor a few hours later.

{Maryanne:I was not familiar with Avalon, nor did I have any idea what to expect. Being so close to Los Angeles (and Hollywood) it was developed as an Island get away for folks on the mainland, and quickly became somewhere the rich and famous visited and generally mixed well with other visitors (movie stars, Winston Churchill and many others - Marilyn Monroe even lived here for a year before she even contemplated becoming an actress). And the place totally looks the part, it is stunningly beautiful.}

Once we were secured, we discovered a bunch of little issues that seemed like they would be better addressed sooner than later. By the time we were done with those, both we and the light were starting to fade. We decided to stay aboard and deal with the dinghy tomorrow. In the meantime, just outside, we had a view of Avalon. Unlike Isthmus, Avalon was dripping with charm. It looks so much like a little Mediterranean village that every now and then, we would forget we were still in California.

First views of Avalon from our mooring

The next morning, I went out to ready the dinghy for the trip ashore when I looked out to sea and saw a giant cruise ship anchored outside the harbor. Oh no! Cruise Ship Day! So many times, we have seen charming little villages turned to overcrowded and overpriced bazaars on Cruise Ship Day. Sighting the ship makes us feel like what people who work feel when they realize it's Monday.

First day exploring the waterfront of this beautiful town

It wasn't actually so bad. Instead of increasing ten fold, Avalon's population temporarily went up maybe 30%, which it seems pretty well equipped to handle. We wandered around, looking at shops and restaurants. The triple rule seems to be in effect here as well. We know a way around that: Don't buy anything (okay, not much). We walked all over the place, taking in the view from one side of town and then the next. We found an outdoor restaurant with THE perfect atmosphere and decided we would take the opportunity to try the island's signature cocktail, Buffalo Milk. Buffalo Milk contains no buffalo products, but instead is basically a White Russian with whipped cream on top. It looks like a frappuccino, only with kick. Somebody nearby got nachos and we decided to add that as well. It was a perfect spot for one of those "life is good" moments as we watched the surf lap the beach below. {Maryanne: Prices were really not that bad, about right for waterfront dining in California - but still more than we generally like to spend - poor Kyle}

The beach club was one of the many stunning places to hang out

We followed that with a walk out of town to the Wrigley Memorial and Botanical Gardens. The memorial was impressive and the gardens were really well done. All of the plants were of types suitable for the arid climate and it was especially interesting to see examples of species that are only found on Santa Catalina. Many are a convenient bench height, like the barrel cactus, but almost none seem to be good for sitting.

A walk to the outskirts of town, and then on to the Botanical Garden - where Kyle was keen to inspect the prickly things.

On the way home, we stopped in the local grocery store for a few items of which we were running low. There, my suspicions about the triple conspiracy were strengthened. Cruise ship passengers don't need groceries. People who live here need groceries. Groceries here are NOT triple. They cost the same as everywhere else we've been in California. Ah, ha!!! Busted.

I suspect the same is not true of real estate.

The ship left at the end of the day and we had the whole place to ourselves and those other twenty people again. We enjoyed an inexpensive dinner made with Catalina-bought groceries with the lights of the town as a backdrop.

There was no cruise ship blocking the sunrise the next morning, so we took in a few attractions.

First was a snorkel around Lover's Cove. The visibility was pretty good. We saw lots of fish species, most of whom were so tame, they were happy to follow us around. There was some kelp and a lot of sea grass, but strangely no stars or anemones. We were also secretly hoping to see a few sea lions frolicking around, but they were elsewhere. We would have stayed a while, waiting for them, but even in our wetsuits (thanks, Mom!), we were starting to get chilly. California water is cold, Man!

A snorkel in Lover's cove

We went back to Begonia, dried off and headed back to shore for a tour of the Casino, which is not a gambling casino, but instead just a really big entertainment venue, maintained in its original 1920s glory. It reminded us of other grand theaters like the Paramount in Oakland and Radio City Music Hall in NY. On the tour, though, we learned that we had it backwards, Radio City was built using inspiration from the Casino. Cool. The Casino is split into two main areas, a giant theater below and the world's largest uninterrupted circular ballroom above. Back in the day, Avalon used to be huge on the big band circuit. I couldn't resist swinging Maryanne around a few times in the middle of that giant floor.

A behind the scenes tour of the 'Casino' at Avalon

From there, we went to the island's museum, where we learned a lot that we didn't know about its star-studded history.

We decided we had done plenty of exercise for the day, so we would treat ourselves to a meal out. We paid for a very nice meal at a romantic restaurant. What we got us a pretty good pizza and a couple of beers at a hole-in-in-the-wall with lots of character called Antonio's. It was still romantic, though, because I was with Maryanne and we were in freakin' Avalon!

The next morning was beautiful and clear. I went outside to admire the orangey light on the town and noticed another cruise ship. Uh, oh. We didn't have much to do ashore, so we got out early. We managed to get all showered and were enjoying a nice breakfast ice cream when we intercepted the first wave of people from the ship. We were then ready to get back to Begonia to prepare for departure while enjoying the entertaining chaos ashore from a peaceful distance.

Santa Catalina

[Kyle]The wind from the previous night's storm was gone by the time we pulled up anchor. The swell was not. Groan.

It only took an hour or so for it to decrease to a size that was too small to throw us around anymore. We had just enough wind to keep the sails filled and without any swell swinging the mast all over the sky, it was actually quite pleasant, if a bit slow. We were averaging just over two knots, so we were basically sauntering to Catalina.

We had expected this, so we planned 24 hours for the 63 mile trip, which gave us as long as 35 hours to get there by the following sunset, so we were in no hurry. It was perfect conditions for being off watch. There was no motion and all of the sails and rigging stayed nice and quiet.

Part way on our journey we managed to be in the wrong place twice over for a NOAA vessel. The crew apologized both times that they were partaking on a course/loop-de-loop that would be unfathomable to other boats, and after moving for them the first time, they seemed even more apologetic to us when we had to start the engines to move on again for them at a totally different location.. Luckily we very much appreciate the work they do, and all scientific research generally and were happy to oblige (even if it did mean starting the engines).

A pleasant enough sail, but slow and with some detours

We arrived at Catalina Harbor just after sunrise. It reminded me of making landfall in English Harbour in Antigua many years ago. Then as now, we passed by rugged cliffs completely devoid of any signs of habitation. We were the only boat in sight. Only at the last minute did we pass by a narrow gap in the rocks that revealed the well protected harbor within.

The harbor is hidden from view - and when we arrived had a Bald Eagle guarding the entrance

We made a sharp turn and passed between two high cliffs and into the anchorage. The whole place was filled with (mostly vacant) moorings. We could anchor either in the really shallow water on the inside or the really deep water outside the protection of the harbor. The shallow water was so shallow we would have had to set two anchors, which is a real pain. The deep water was so deep that we would need more swinging room than the narrow space would allow. We opted for the third option of sucking it up and paying for one of the many moorings.

We called the harbor patrol, who was out to us in one of their launches within seconds. He immediately told us to stop as it was very shallow ahead. The depth sounder read eight meters. He kept indicating that he thought we would need at least three. He directed us to a mooring way away from the dinghy dock and right next to another boat. It seemed there was more than enough space for a buffer mooring between each boat, but he insisted that was the only suitable space for us. It was like being told to take a middle seat by the lav between two other people when there are six empty rows in the middle of the plane.

Oh, well. It is what it is. Our neighbors had a big beautiful ketch of a classic design that was so the opposite of a modern catamaran. We noticed their hailing port was Portland - maybe like us, if it was Oregon. Still, we've been to the other one, so we should still have lots to talk about. We waved and said hi and got a reluctant response. They didn't appear to be in a sociable mood. Well, now this was awkward. Now we had to try to pretend they weren't there. The moorings in Catalina are all fore and aft. This really packs 'em in, so we were only thirty feet from them.

We ran the checklist to make sure everything was done. Afterward, we decided that we were both feeling rested enough to go ashore without a watch recovery nap.

We head ashore for a better view of the harbor once we arrive

We rowed the pudgy the short distance to the nearest dinghy dock, only to discover afterwards that it made for much more walking than it would have if we had gone to the dock slightly further. Santa Catalina is essentially two different mountainous islands connected by a low isthmus, with Catalina harbor on one side and Isthmus Cove on the other. We walked over the low rise to the other, busier side at Isthmus to see what passed for the second biggest settlement on the island.

The "town" was a collection of mostly similar pre-fab buildings clustered by the beach. It seemed to be there mostly to cater to backpackers walking the 37-mile Trans-Catalina trail. It had no particular character, other than, perhaps: "Leave your money here." When we were in the information office, we overheard a backpacker and his girlfriend being told the fees for them to camp for the night would be $133. That seemed high to rent a spot in the dirt. Based on a pass through the town's only store and a perusal of the various price lists for things like snorkel rental, etc., plus a glance at the only restaurant's menu, we concluded that the Catalinans must have collectively decided that everything on their island would cost triple. Yes, we understand that things like food and lumber have to be imported from the mainland, so they should be more expensive, but a lot of prices seemed to have no correlation to either the cost of production or to high demand; it was just because they could.

Pretty hamlet of Isthmus Cove

We had a beer and split some onion rings while we figured out what we were possibly going to do the next day since we pretty much felt like we had taken our time and still ran out of stuff the first day. We decided on a walk through the reserve on the northwestern arm of the island.

We went to the information office to ask about trail maps and were told we would need a get a permit the next morning before our walk. We could not do it today.

We showed up the next morning and were handed what seemed to be an unnecessarily detailed form for a six-mile walk. It was less complicated to get permission to hike the HST. {Maryanne: By completing the form, we also agreed to waive all rights to sue, and inexplicably agreed to not hitch-hike on the island}

We started off the walk by cheekily going opposite the recommended direction. We walked along a coast road above two pretty coves: 4th of July Cove and Cherry Cove. 4th of July is owned by a very nice looking yacht club and surrounded by a lot of Private Property signs. Cherry Cove is home to a big (empty for the season) Boy Scout camp.

We then turned away from the water and headed straight uphill towards the middle of the island on a trail that didn't bother with switchbacks. We saw a lot of palm cactus, as well as a few other endemic species as we made our way too the top of the other side of the next valley. From there, we descended steeply to Catalina Harbor before crossing back into town.

Views from Goat Whisker Trail

As we passed the harbor, we collected our laundry and shower stuff from the dinghy and carried them into town for an afternoon of fun. Once at the dinghy we found our laundry bag had been emptied and our items were all over the dingy. We *Think* it must have been one or more of the ravens that hung around the village.. Oops.

Laundry before departing

Maryanne: Two Harbors (as it is known) is not quite so dire as Kyle implies, but it is certainly basic, remote, and quite the quiet get-a-way.. It was a bit too rustic for me to enjoy (given the price to stay there), but it was indeed picturesque. Two days was enough - time to move on to something a little more busy.

Santa Cruz Island

[Kyle]At the anchorage in Bechers Cove on Santa Rosa island in California's Channel Islands, we had a slow day of watching lounging in the cockpit. We watched the shadows in the hills behind change as the sun tracked its way through the sky and the mini-dramas of the birds floating in the kelp. We followed that with a good night's sleep, which left us feeling fully recovered from running the boat for 48 hours straight to get there.

A slow and easy sail - occasionally stopping to clear kelp from rudders

We left a few minutes after sunrise for what we knew would be a slow 25 mile sail to our next anchorage at Prisoners Harbor on Santa Cruz island. The wind was hardly there, but the islands had effectively blocked the swell. This allowed the sails to maintain their curved airfoil shape without constantly filling and collapsing, which allowed us to move at a nice, peaceful crawl on a beautiful, clear day. We stayed in the warmth of the cockpit enclosure reading to each other while enjoying the gradually changing view of Santa Cruz's cliffs as we slid by.

When we finally reached Prisoners Harbor, we found another boat in our intended spot to the wast of the pier, so we found good holding to the east. Our all-day crawl left just enough time to watch the sun set behind the hills and prepare for the next day before darkness fell.

Sea Lions hang out on their backs all day
and we relax along with them (from the boat)

Santa Cruz - day WOW!

We both had a night of weird dreams that kept us up half the night. I kept thinking we were in the boatyard with a million things to attend to. Maryanne dreamt I was in a bad motorcycle accident. When the first light of morning started coming through the hatch, it was way more appealing to stay in bed than to get moving, as I had originally intended. No worries, we had a short day planned, so it getting up late wasn't a huge deal.

We were underway respectably before noon.

The wind was still nearly nothing, but we were only going eleven miles to the eastern end of the island.

We were transitioning from motor to sail when we spotted what looked like a tide rip ahead. It could have also been where the wind started creating ripples in the flat sea.

Fist Dolphin Visit of the day brings a crowd playing at our bows

We unfurled the sails and started slowing the engines in preparation for shutting them down. Just then, I saw three dolphins coming over to play in our bow wave. Oh, we love dolphins. They always seem to stop whatever they are doing to come over and play. We ran to the bow and that's when it hit us. The churned up water way ahead that we thought was a tide rip was actually the turbulence of HUNDREDS of dolphins stretching over a mile!

Maryanne (the marine biologist, remember) thinks one group were probably herding fish into shallower water by the beach at Prisoners in order to make them easier to catch (but admits that is a guess). Eventually they all seemed to leave what they were doing and pass right by us.

..And then the larger crowd joins us and put on quite a show in all directions

It was incredible! We were completely surrounded by hundreds of them. I have never even come close to seeing that many dolphins in one place in my whole life at sea. We had just sailed through the North Pacific Annual Dolphin Conference and they had all joined in as our escorts!

We still had almost no wind, but the noise bad turbulence they made made it sound like we were hearing surf landing at the beach. It was L.A. Traffic of dolphins!

Wow!

We were too slow for them, so they eventually went on their way. The wind picked up and we had a nice, fast sail to our next anchorage at Smuggler's Cove. Smuggler's is beautiful - surrounded by high, yellow hills that turn orange in the late day light.

Safely arrived at Smugglers Cove
Some time to relax and enjoy the calm before we wait out the storm

Perfect days of sailing like this are rare and beautiful. We slog through all of the miserable times for a day like this.

We spent a whole day at Smugglers, where we enjoyed Bald Eagles and beautiful views. The last forecast we had been able to pick up called for high winds and rain all day, so our plan was to hunker down behind the hills and have an indoor day reading and cooking comfort food.

It didn't turn out to be so bad. The clouds held off until afternoon, making for a perfect climate inside the cockpit enclosure. Instead of an indoor day, we spent our time pottering around doing minor maintenance and tidying up.

We were just starting to think about donning our wetsuits and going for a swim when the clouds moved in and it started sprinkling. That effectively killed our motivation for that. Back to plan A.

It wasn't until 1 a.m. that the weather arrived. I had set our anchor alarm with a small radius so I would know if were starting to swing in a different direction than we had laid out our chain. It woke us by screaming at us. (Literally. The alarm noise is of a screaming chimpanzee). We resisted the strong temptation to spring out of bed, but instead checked the display to see if we were swinging or if we were really dragging and which way. The distance to our set point increased for a bit and then decreased again. Whew! Swinging.

We were almost asleep again when the screaming started again. This time, we could hear the wind picking up and feel Begonia yawing around when she came to the end of her rode and the bridle turned her to face the anchor. Perhaps I'd better get up this time and have a look.

I turned on the wind instruments. The wind was about 15 knots, gusting to 24 or so - not too bad. I went outside in the rain to see what I could see. At the bows, even though it was really dark, I could clearly see the vee of our bridle going from each bow to where it met our anchor chain in their middle. From there, I could see the first half of our chain as it receded away toward the anchor. All of this was because brilliant bioluminescence lit everything up as if we had strung glow sticks the whole length of our rode. All of the breaking crests of the little wavelets around were also lit up. We seemed to be holding fine, so I went back inside.

Since we had no cell service with which to pick up a detailed forecast or get a good look at a radar picture, I tuned in NOAA weather radio on the VHF just to see if anything new had cropped up since the last time we had been able to check the weather two days ago.

As I figured, the forecast was over a much to broad area to be of any use to us. It basically said, "Entire Pacific Ocean: winds of variable strength and speed, changing to winds of other strength and speed..." Okay. The only helpful information was the buoy reports, which said the waves were higher to the west, from where the storm was approaching.

We had a few flashes of lightning, the rain picked up for a while and then began to decrease. The pull on the chain lessened and its weight pulled it toward the sea floor and Begonia back toward the anchor.

Leftover swell woke us again just before sunrise. Begonia pitched and rolled in at least two difference wave trains. Oh, well. We had to be up to start our next leg anyway.