The 29ft Ericson sloop, the "Al Azar", is literally in shambles, it's already 10PM, but Chris determined to leave tonight. His eyes are twitching in sych with his scraggly beard, possibly in anticipation of the task at hand. The bow pulpit is sitting on the dock, along with the piles and piles of his gear. He picks up his friend Sarah from Napa, who has no idea what she is in for. She has never sailed before and also is pregnant.
"Kristian come help me mount this thing - 3 bolts on each stanchion is plenty." Chris lives by the 3/4 rule; the fourth bolt is probably not fully necessary after all. His bow pulpit has had major damage - he ran into a breakwater with it - so it's very wobbly, even after being mounted.
Chris starts piling gear onto his starboard deck. "As long as the port side is clear I can run the decks." Surfboards, aluminum rods, pieces of wood, all kinds of mixmatch get wedged between his deck and netting. The thought of what tomorrow's forecast gale force wind might do to his gear makes me cringe.
"The tide's already ebbing, I've gotta move!" It's 1AM and he's counting on the ebbing tide to slingshot him out of the harbor. His inboard diesel engine is sitting tamely on his cabin floor, since breaking down on arrival to Morro Bay. All he has for propulsion is a borrowed 5 horsepower Nissan outboard which regularly sputters.
Worse, the Al Azar has a large hole in the keel. A month before, his anchor line wrapped around his keel and sawed right through it; the Harbor Patrol put a quick fix to seal the leak. "Don't leave the harbor without hauling the boat out of the water and fiberglassing that hole!" they had advised. But the Morro Bay Boatyard owner was not very cooperative; and Chris' patience wore thin so he decided to leave on Memorial Day weekend, with the Tabula Raza behind to keep an eye on things.
Keep your fingers crossed!
By the time he was ready to leave at 2AM, and I cast his lines off, I was so stressed out I didn't think I'd be able to leave the next day - particularly because the forecast called for 35-40 knot gale winds. Chris is officially the king of unprepared-ness, reckless-ness, and put himself on the edge-ness. We more humble, slightly better prepared folk, bow down in reverence.
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