In a test of our perseverance, the weekend of the departure was marred by very strong winds and choppy seas. Arguably a perfect time to toss the boat around and see what breaks. My brother Dylan arrived on the Thursday of Memorial Day weekend; we sat at the Hofbrau of Morro Bay discussing our options with fellow sailors Chris and Keith, as the wind buffeted the glass.
"North to San Simeon? Maybe we'll make it to China Cove, which is just halfway."
"But what's the anchorage like there? We can leave at around 4 AM and see what it's like offshore."
"Or we'll just go for a day sail..."
Forecast called for 40knot plus winds from the northwest, with hectic seas of 10 feet at 9 seconds. Anytime the wave height (10 feet) is larger than the swell period (9 seconds) then it'll be very rough and choppy. The small craft advisory turned into a full gale warning. The 40 year old boat was groaning at the prospect of such a beating, but we cast off at 4:30 AM - heart in throat.
In the spirit of the shakedown cruise, which has the objective of "shaking down" whatever loose nuts and bolts (and larger hardware) need to get replaced before the big trip, a few things got knocked off the boat: including the sail track on the boom and this morning's breakfast. "I thought this only happened in the cartoons!" Dylan was astonished at the extent of his seasickness. "It can only get better from now on" he said with a twisted smile. He may be a family guy, but he's a trooper.
We scampered back into Morro Bay and rested, repaired, and slept for the day while the gale whipped the very spark in the air. The plan was to leave early the next morning and head south to Avila Beach. Real early, before the wind got strong.
9PM. As we dined at Pizza Port, contemplating this might be our last meal should be gale consume us, Chris announces he's also leaving - and on top of things, his friend Sarah from Napa Valley is coming too - and she's pregnant! "She should be arriving any minute now." What?! The pizza is delicious.
Back at the Tabula Raza, in the pitch black, the lads haul me up the mast, to recover the topping lift (an important line which came off the block). I'm 30 feet up in the air, headlamp illuminating the mast in front of me, nothing else exists. I breath and look around; the view of the city lights is fiery, along with the calm and hazy air, I feel like I'm inside the dragon's belly.
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