Exploring Twin Harbor

A magical spot guarded by a fortress of rock on both sides, and a calm cobblestone beach behind. It is a narrow enough cove that I hardly expect another boat to try and squeeze in. I am alone with my thoughts, only to share with the resident sea lions, which make quite a commotion while hunting: flapping their flippers, uh-uh-uh hooting, while the pelicans dive-bomb to gather the stunned fish left behind.

Both mornings have been foggy, which I managed to greet with a yoga session on board, followed by some productive work: whipping the end of lines, assessing the headsails, etc... These accomplishments have been rewarded with breakfast feasts, like french toast and black tea, or omelette with corn tortillas. The sun always seems to emerge halfway through the breakfast, which so warms me from inside out, that I feel overwhelmed; the gratitude and the abundance is such that I eat slowly and try to take it all in.

working on the bow at twin harbor

The previous day I went ashore and explored the ravine leading from the beach, which is blocked by a stupendous rock. Spelunking-style, one climbs through the crevices of the rock with a feeling that a billion tons are hanging suspended above. The ravine then opens into a creekbed and a narrow valley, but I did not pursue it far. A notebook is left next to the rock, neatly packeged inside a plastic bag with a pen to record people's impressions of the trek.

Today I paddled the dinghy - with the one remaining oar - and explore the west cove which makes this a "twin harbor"; though it is much less protected and full of kelp, the diving is clear, with the usual assortment of garibaldi, opal eye, and rock fish that weave through the kelp bed.

Upon return to the mother ship I had an incredibly productive afternoon, fixing the solar panel (the wire had come loose), the main VHF radio (the connection was faulty), as well as repaired both my board shorts by hand-sewing. This was a first to me, a skill which I have learned from the necessity of fixing sails and whipping line, but is readily applied to mending clothes.

The day is capped off with a shower in the cockpit, complete with shaved beard and conditioned hair, which sets me up for a pleasant evening of reading and writing in the cabin. I finish The 4 Hour Work Week, by Timothy Ferris, the message being "lifestyle design" and lifelong learning, which leaves me elated at both my current state and future prospects. In the context of this excellent day, which brought me nothing but high spirits and strength of resolve, I experienced the following bizarre occurrence.