Belgium - bound!

Stand by for updates starting July 23, when Mahalo Sailing takes on the canals of Belgium, the beer, and the chocolate!

Check out the Oct issue of SAILING

SAILING magazine - 'the big one' - features MAHALO SAILING in a Thailand cruise wrap up, in the October 2010 issue. Available @ West Marine stores and major bookstores SOON!

Baja bound?

Heading for the Haha? Or just south of the border? Join Capt. Holly Thursday Sept. 9 at 6PM when she discusses cruising to Mexico, at West Marine in Long Beach at 251 N. Marina Drive.

Free of charge!

30 degrees in 30 miles

Aug. 18: What a difference 30 miles makes!

 

Sunshine was peering in the companionway this morning, even though it was still chilly. The forecasted high pressure system was FINALLY on its way ("Liars!" Holly repeatedly yells at the NOAA weather report on the radio) and we left Cuyler Harbor under hazy skies: MAHALO stuck her nose out into the channel and began a fabulous downwind run in 14 - 27 knot breezes and hefty seas.

 

A Cal 40, MAHALO easily handles the big wind and water, and the ride was SWEET! We ran along the top side of Santa Rosa Island then cut through the strait between SRI and Santa Cruz Island. Increasingly warm, the gals peeled off layer after layer until at last (!) we were in shorts and t/'tank tops.

 

We anchored at Coches Prietos - about 2/3 of the way down the south shore of SCI (from the west). It was calm and sunny and we were eager to explore. Madame K took off in her kayak and the rest of us dinghied ashore, and struck out on a trail mid-beach through tall dry grasses, keeping a keen lookout for rattlesnakes. Soon we were winding up down and around on a rugged trail toward the center of the island. The canyon was lush: an oasis; with thick fruit and berry trees, a trickling stream with pollywogs (and later, we discovered; mosquitos) and wildlife.

 

Hearing some sounds from the brush I turned around and saw a tiny Island Fox behind me. Clearly unafraid, she watched us as we watched her, quite a while. Then she sauntered away, and we continued along the path to a small brook. As we were crossing, the fox reappeared - it seems she'd gone back to get a friend, and they both watched us two-legged creatures with curiousity. She was petite and beautiful with fine features: deep gray, auburn and sable fur, a slender tail, and alert, pointed ears. She was comfortable with us, so much so she sat by the edge of the water and started grooming her business. Hence we knew 'it' was a 'she' ... These indigenous foxes were on the edge of extinction 10 years ago, but an aggressive captive breeding program has brought their population back into the 100s on each island. Her presence was all the more charming, knowing this, and added to our already perfect day.

 

Now it's nighttime ... the big dipper hangs over the beach, nestled between the huge rock walls that create this cove. The breeze is light, although there's a bit of surge, and I anticipate our most peaceful night (with NO middle of the night alarms set to check the anchor). Tomorrow we leave for Santa Barbara Island, by way of Anacapa: a long sail, but hopefully just as gorgeous as today's!

 

Everyone is happy, sated, and TIRED. Love to all ~ Betsy

 

August 19: SCORE - Islands 2, Girls 2, with 2 islands to go ...

 

Our island bagging trip took another hit today when we got v-e-r-y close to Anacapa, and the landing by the lighthouse on the east end ... but there was too much surge to attempt to launch the dinghy and take the girls ashore. Even so, we rounded Arch Rock twice and took numerous photos of the lighthouse and the hillside below. Had it been snow, as it appeared, it would have made one heck of a toboggan ride, however it was all bird sh** blanketing the massive slope white.

 

We continued south to Santa Barbara Island, the wind filling in from the west to give us a gorgeous reach for several hours, building til we got in the lee of SBI and to the one anchorage on the island. A couple of Holly's Bluewater Cruising Club friends were here and we waved hello as we passed, then anchored in the swelly but protected waters. Here there are zillions of sea lions, and below the surface of the (frigid) water the ocean floor is carpeted with brittle stars. This trip, nearly 55 miles, took us all day,so we simply made dinner and dessert, and turned in ... in the a.m.we'll explore ashore for a few hours, then head to Catalina at noon.

 

Lots of laughter, fun, beautiful scenery, and a big ship stacked with fake containers  that crossed in front of us saying "TARGET, STAY CLEAR" ... whoops!  ~ Betsy

 

Aug 20: TAG!

 

Writing from Catalina, where we're anchored at Geiger Cove @ 5:30pm, after a glorious sail across from Santa Barbara Island, where we enjoyed a three-hour hike this morning. Enjoying a celebratory rum drink: six islands in nine day; a fantastic time! Heading home tomorrow midday after a little trek ashore.

 

All fine, signing off ... Mahalo! ~ Betsy

San Miguel

Aug 17, 9:30pm

It blew - HARD - all night long, but by the time we awoke, it had calmed to 15 or so. Alas we were surrounded by a dense fog, which prevented us from leaving for a warmer, calmer place (which we gathered would be ANYWHERE in the No. Hemisphere - just not here). So we made the best of a lazy morning and Holly made her famous cornbread pancakes.

As we talked about our destination options and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, the sun finally made its promised arrival. Cuyler Harbor is spectacular, with a sweeping crescent bay bookended by huge rock and scrub promontories that protect you from the open sea. There are white sandy beaches occupied by elephant seals, turquoise waters decorated with kelp forests. San Miguel Island is a unique place: surely few people ever come here, and even fewer get to come twice. So Holly made her plea to spend our 'extra' day ashore here ... and seeing it's taken her a lifetime to get here, we gladly conceded.

Loading out backpacks with water and sandwiches, we took the dinghy ashore to the mid-point of the beach, closest to the trailhead. It was a short hike along the beach and over some dunes to the beginning of the trek which took us up a steep ravine, dripping with wildflowers of every color. Holly said it was like walking through a palette, there were so many hues; and there were just as many sizes, shapes and textures, from short fat succulent Dudlyea to giant coreopsis, with poppies and morning glories and all sorts of dainty blooms that survive and thrive in this climate.Yes it may be cold and foggy in August, but the benefit is the wildflowers were amazing.

Our hike took us up to the Juan Cabrillo monument, past a very sorry looking spare and wind-blown campsite, to the ranger's station. A plane was just landing (we had to scurry across the runway/trail) and the weekly change of hands, of the Park Ranger and researchers, was taking place. After stowing his provisions, Ranger George, a witty elderly British gentleman who volunteers as a ranger, offered to take us to the caliche forest several miles away. The trail took us up and over the island's highest point (800') along moor-like scenery, where onmipresent wisps of fog sped by. At one point we crossed tall sandy dunes - at an elevation of 750' - the power and tenacity of the wind being rather impressive.

The caliche forest appeared along a bluff scattered with huge pom-poms of lupin and 'dune'delions; like a cemetery of pure white stumps, where ghostly swaths of fog danced through. The remnants of an ancient pine forest, the caliche (calcrete) is a fossil but not truly ... too complex to describe late on a darkened night, you'll have to google it. But it was an impressive sight, and after snapping a few photos, and taking the eerie panorama in, we retraced our steps. .

Ranger George kept us entertained with details and anecdotes about the island flora and fauna, and his fascinating 70-plus-years of life, and soon the 5-mile round trip was over. As a reward, he offered us some brownies at the station, we started our slightly wobbly hike (we've been boat bound a few days, and were a bit stiff!) back along the trail and down the ravine to the beach (another mile or so). Along the way, a petite island fox (an endemic species) appeared in the trail - and then another. These two adorable young pups eyed us curiously for a few minutes, then walked into the dense coreopsis grove. It was the icing on the cake, a fabulous day.

After a refreshingly splashy (the water temp is mid 50s) dinghy ride, we took turns showering ... it never really got sunny enough to warm up the sunshower, so our baths were brisk and quick! Leftover lasagna and salad were on the menu and everyone turned in fairly swift. Kathleen announced this has been one of the biggest adventures of her life... and heck, we're not even halfway through the trip yet ;-)

Tomorrow we leave earlyish for Santa Cruz again. We expect a nice following breeze so will sail over the top of Santa Rosa, then duck into the passage between Santa Rosa and Santa Cruz, and head east to an anchorage on the south side. Thursday we'll make our way to Santa Barbara Island, by way of Anacapa, and Friday we'll head over to the Isthmus, on Catalina. By then, we hope and pray, we will meet up with some SUNNY and WARM weather!!

The gals are all sound asleep, well, happy and full. Love to all ~ Betsy

San Miguel, at last!

Monday Aug. 16

I am writing this from Cuyler Harbor, San Miguel Island - where approaching 9PM, we are counting down to the NOAA forecasted dip in wind velocity, which would be welcome, as we tug on our two bow anchors, in the dense black foggy night, where the wind is gusting in the low 30s. I've got on thermals and fuzzy socks and would be wearing my fuzzy hat too, except it got wet on the dinghy ride from shore.

We (Holly, Jani, Kathleen aka Madame K, Jenene and I) are celebrating our successful voyage (thus far) to San Miguel - where Holly, who has been sailing since before she could walk, has been efforting (more than a dozen times) to visit, and has been turned back time and again by foul weather. We are singing along to old tunes, playing the spoons, dancing, checking the wind.

Never mind. We have defied every NOAA forecast since we left, inching towards San Miguel despite small craft advisories, peeking out of our anchorages in the early morning hours, to satisfy Holly's lifelong quest. San Miguel!

Here's the brief synopsis of our trip so far (since leaving Santa Barbara) .... as Holly throws a grape on they keyboard and Jani remarks: "29 - see it's dropping" and then, they begin dancing to some old Sonny & Cher song.

Saturday we left for Santa Cruz - having decided that San MIguel would be suicidal and our guests might mutiny. We had a gorgeous, quick sail to Fry's Harbor (during which time I napped: .. one thing I LOVE about sailing is that you get to nap, and in fact it's your JOB to nap. sweet!) Fry's is a perfect little cove: protected on either side by tall pocked cliffs, with a small gravelly beach ashore.

But it's honking outside the next morning, so we pull up our anchors and leave early, for a surly ride west along the top of the island and across the channel to Santa Rosa Island. The wind (as expected) kept increasing, but the angle made it tolerable, as we continued westbound to Becher's Bay. It appeared just as I remembered it: heinous. A wind-streaked, kelp-strewn expanse of frothy water, beneath dull brown hills.

We anchor in the frigid breeze (on the third try - hacking away wads of kelp each time we re-attempt) have some soup. "Is it pretty much like this all the time?" Holly whispers and I reply "No it's windier at night.". We figure it's time to get the hell outta dodge. We venture out again into the channel - huge breakers rolling along the point - turn the corner, and ahhhhhh: calm, warm(ish) bliss.

Skirting the bottom of west Santa Rosa toward the midpoint, we find Johnson's Lee ... snake our way through a thick carpet of kelp to the right depth, and drop anchor. Holly, Madame K and Jani jump in the dinghy for a quick excursion ashore, but after fighting their way through the breeze and kelp, are send scurrying back by a giant elephant seal protecting his harem.

"I have never SEEN a head that big" Jani sputters and Holly retorts "Hence the name ELEPHANT seal ... "

We have a peaceful night in the lee of this island. Elephant seals call all night, seagulls cry, and unseen fish leap - slapping on the slick surface of the water. The air smells like wet straw, and the sky above is clear.

Monday

It's 6:15 and Holly is stirring. I know what this means. If (like a groundhog) she pops her head out and sees the right condition, we are off for San Miguel. Forecasts all weekend have been unfavorable but getting underway early has saved us from the worst of it.

First though, we have to give the boat 'a Brazilian'. She has swung in the night into a kelp bed and we need to whack a mountain of foliage from under her belly. Then we're off - pleasant enough at first, until we round South Point and enter the channel between Santa Rosa and San Miguel. The fog thickens, the wind builds, and the waves resemble a washing machine as the points of the islands stretch to meet in the channel. We liken it to squeezing through the sphincter of the islands. It is cold and wet ... but just a few hours and brief enough. By noon we are rounding the rocky isle at the entry to Cuyler Harbor. In the time it takes to do a donut and drop the main, the fog clears just enough for us to make out the rocks, and we slowly motor to the anchorage.

There's a lot more to tell - our excursion ashore, bypassing a slew of elephant seals including massive juveniles who broke from their game of slapping their huge floppy proboscises at each other - to gape at us; a proliferation of wildflowers; strolling the sand dunes that stretch up 100s of feet, and the incredible array of textures of the rocks, but after a long day and a filling dinner of lasagna and wine, it is time to go to sleep and prepare for tomorrow ...

Everyone is well. Love to all ~ Betsy

Santa Barbara and beyond!

August 14 - Our first leg, Long Beach to Santa Barbara, was successul -- a bit frisky, until 1AM, when the seas finally laid down a bit. We were hopeful of seeing the Perseids (meteor showers) that appear this time of year -- and because I was fortunate enough to be driving (the autohelm got cranky in the very lumpy sea) and was peering over the dodger (getting misted with cold spray on occasion) I saw one spectacular long streaking star that lit up the sky. Funny how one special star can make all that looking worthwhile.

 

A brief recap: we arrived early and got in naps, lunch, and a sunny walk to and along the Pier; later we joined up with the Flippin Friday gals for cocktail hour on the Jr Sailing dock (they abandoned their small boat races due to the gusty conditions) and then hit Brophys (my favorite) for dinner. And a drink or two.

 

Now it's Saturday morning - the coffee is vociferously perking on the stove, and we're very busy getting ready to head to Santa Cruz. A small craft warning is forecast for the SB Channel this afternoon so we are postponing San Miguel til Monday, when we expect much flatter seas. So we're looking at Santa Cruz Sat - Sun, sometime Monday head to San Miguel and then get back on track for our loop to Santa Rosa, SC again (perhaps), Anacapa, Santa Barbara (island), and Two Harbors, Catalina (Friday night).

 

All are well, looking forward to the islands!