trip logs

Dear Cape Blanco,

First off, you are a beautiful coastline (when you’re not covered in dense fog that is). Your water is clear blue, your skies often sunny and warm. So why do you so despise small sailboats sailing past you? You send wind howling down onto your waters, kicking up waves that are steep and treacherous. You laugh at weather forecasters. They say to expect 15 knots from you and you instead throw up 30 or 40. Especially when it gets dark you love to kick it up yet another notch. When small boats want to reach a safe harbor onshore your steep close waves prevent them from safely traveling eastward. You must really get a kick out of that.

We’ve truly have enjoyed our sail down the west coast. Up until now it hasn’t been too windy, it’s been sunny and we’ve been steadily making our way to California. The Cape Blanco forecast was for 10-15 knots and we thought that we might get another sweet spinnaker run in today. But alas it was not to be. In your classic Blanco fashion when we were but 20 miles north of your Cape you switched your wind on from 0 to 20 then when we were committed to rounding, you kicked it up to 30. We spent the morning hand steering, surfing down your ridiculous waves and making our way painstakingly eastward to safe harbor.

You didn’t get us this time though and we get the last laugh. We were anchored down in the safety of Port Orford just to the south of you by early afternoon and enjoying the gorgeous scenery of southern Oregon and clear turquoise Pacific waters. And cold beer and zucchini pancakes.

Not your fans,
The Wondertime Crew

Total miles at noon: 405

We kept the spinnaker up until nearly sunset last night then took it down before nightfall. With this coast’s reputation (at least in my mind) of the wind picking up at night we’re only using our best downwind sail in the daytime. That was fine anyway because it was barely an hour later and our genoa started flogging badly; the wind had dropped below 10 knots and the engine was started with reluctance after nearly 26 hours of sailing.

At 8 pm we tuck the girls into bed. They’ve been sleeping with their heads at the foot of our bed which is a wonderful protected cubby. Michael and I each stuff ourselves between them when we are off watch. They make the most marvelous lee cloths and the whole bunk is warm and cozy with all the bodies. It’s a lovely way to sleep and the nights don’t seem chilly at all.

With our third crewmember, Garth, onboard our watch schedule has been truly luxurious and for the first passage ever we’ve all been getting plenty of sleep. I take the 8p-12a watch after the girls are in bed, Michael has the dark 12a-4a watch and Garth gets to watch the sunrise during his 4a-8a watch. During the day we each take turns napping and playing with the girls.

Our appetites returned our second day out and last night I was able to put together a lentil sausage stew (actually Michael put most of it together when my stomach couldn’t handle anymore after chopping the onion…still working on my sea legs). Thanks to some mealtime teamwork, we all savored the warm meaty meal.

This morning brought even less wind so we continue to chug along. Thankfully we have had a 1.5 knot current running south with us and are making great time. We passed Newport, Oregon around noon today and should be crossing the California border Tuesday morning. Almost half way there!

Total miles at noon: 263

After sleeping nearly all day yesterday the girls finally woke up this morning. All of us are getting our sea legs on now in fact; we are less queasy, have a little bit more energy, and have been given sailing conditions so perfect that it would be impossible not to be having a good time out here.

We had the motor on and off until yesterday evening. When we were finally free of the mouth of Juan de Fuca and south of Cape Flattery the NW wind filled in. We rolled out the genoa and put two reefs in the mainsail for stability and set our course for 170 south. All night long we had a steady 15-20 knots of wind and rolled back and forth in the sea and swell that always live here. I was able to put together a quick macaroni and cheese dinner and the crew wolfed it down, a good sign.

Last night was the kind of night I’d only read about until now. The phosphorescence was so bright we watched the glowing green waves flicker and dance around us and bright foamy billows light up our keel when we’d surf down a wave. Our wake left behind a glowing trail. After the half moon set around 11 pm the quantity of stars out was simply awesome. A night of pure magic.

The wind let up a bit this morning to less than 15 knots. Our genoa started flogging back and forth in the leftover wind waves and Michael I doused it and put up our spinnaker. We’ve been cruising along all day like this with bright sunshine above, clear green water below and a rainbow of color pulling us along.

All five of us sat in the cockpit just watching the sea for several hours this morning. The girls asked for books and toys and started to get back into their regular play routines. In the distance we saw a little brown bird fluttering its wings, exhausted. This little woodland guy, at 40 miles offshore, had clearly made a wrong turn. He flapped around our boat and then landed on our stern rail and rode along with us for an hour or two, resting and snacking on cracker crumbs the girls tossed to him. Our little visitor making the ride all the more sweeter.

Total miles at noon: 132

We left Ucluelet this morning at 0915; once clear of the reefs we pointed our bow 180 south. It’s been sunny, clear and gorgeous out today. We took advantage of a light east wind blowing out of the straits and were able to sail for a few hours thankfully. The girls watched a couple DVDs this morning and promptly passed out in our bed and have been asleep for most of the afternoon. Everyone is a little queasy, tired, nervous but mostly excited. A lot of crackers and ginger cookies have been consumed today. It feels very, very nice to be on our way south at last.