Snotty Weather and Sunken Dinghies

I began this blog entry as we were anchored in Willard on Tiburon Island. The wind was blowing 15-25 knots out of the east and did not let up for 3 solid days. The weather gurus got it wrong again.

When we left Isla las Animas and crossed the Sea of Cortez, the wind was a nice, comfortable 10-12 knots out of the southeast. We put up the sails and were sailing nicely for quite a while. The farther east we went, the higher the wind got and pretty soon we were rollicking through 2-3 ft swells and wind chop and having a great time. As we all know, all good things must end and as the day went on, the wind built to 20, 22, 25 knots and gusts over that. Down came the headsail and still we were roaring on. We had hoped for some protection in Willard but it was not great. Since the wind was coming off the land, there was no fetch and the water in the anchorage was quite flat so we aren’t rocking, rolling, bouncing, etc, but the wind never went below 15.

The plan was to go around the corner to a place called Dog Bay but with the wind out of the wrong direction that option was no longer available. We really didn’t have any driving need to leave but Chris thought the unusual weather might have been some sort of phenomenon that was exclusive to that island so we decided to go to Los Cocinas…an anchorage about 75 miles away on the mainland coast.

We anticipated the trip to Los Cocinas (The Kitchens) to take about 14-15 hours so at 4am we had the anchor up and were leaving Willard in order to arrive at our destination during the daylight. Ha! This little trip turned out to be our worst ever passage since the Oregon coast.

As we left Willard, the wind was still blowing 20 knots but we weren’t concerned as we thought it would help us. What we hadn’t planned on (or looked at) was the tide. It was just beginning to flood and in that part of the Sea the tides are often as high as six knots. We were moving pretty fast but the boat speed over ground slowed to an incredible 1-2 knots. We continued to slog along for a while and then Chris & I discussed the option of turning back. We even turned the boat around for a short while. After some discussion we re-evaluated and decided that the tide was going to be a factor pretty much every day so back around to the south we went. As the day wore on, we didn’t see an appreciable difference in the tidal effect and the wind (which was still out of the southeast) never went below 16 knots but mostly stayed above 20 knots. The waves started out at 3-5 feet but the farther south we got the bigger they became and they were only 3 seconds apart so it was a real trial.

“Faith” is a big, heavy boat and she is quite happy to slog through pretty much anything you ask her to deal with but it was still uncomfortable for us. The wind would build to 25-30 knots and we’d slam into huge waves and then it would die back down to 15-20 knots for a while. Fortunately, we have a pretty dry boat and it was rare for a wave to get water into the cockpit.

We kept waiting for the tide to change in hopes that it would help our boat speed but, alas, the wind and water direction mitigated any reduction in the tide. It finally became apparent that this trip was going to take considerably longer than we had anticipated. As it turned out, it was 34 hours before we finally arrived and got anchored! To add insult to injury, the rough seas broke loose all the crap that was in the bottom of the fuel tank and both the fuel filters clogged up. The engine never quit but it wouldn't go above 1600 rpm's.

Once we were safely anchored in Los Cocinas, we were n-o-t leaving until the wind died off. The wind continued blowing a sustained 25 knots with gusts as high as 30…in the anchorage…for three days and we were absolutely not interested in jumping back out into those big seas any time soon. Even the pelicans weren't happy. They just stood on the beach for hours on end and when they attempted to fly somewhere they were working very hard. The day we arrived two boats from Tucson Sailing Club arrived…both considerably smaller (27' & 28'), and the folks on board were very tired and very, very wet. The one boat had lost its engine and it was pretty dark when they got here. Chris guided them in past all the rocks using lights and the VHF and talked them through anchoring under sail so they got safely settled next to us. Next day, Doubloon, a boat that was there when we arrived, decided they couldn't wait any longer and took off...like a shot. Both sails were reefed down but they were going north so were going with the wind instead of against it. They were out of sight in no time at all.

After 3 days of waiting, the weather guy said things were going to start calming down. Whoo hoo! Still, I had no intention of leaving until it was nice and flat “outside”. Alas…you know what they say about best laid plans!

Our third night turned out to be pretty rolly. Sometime during the night the wind and well had switched to the southwest and was coming straight into the anchorage. Sleeping was uncomfortable at best (actually, none of us got much) but when we got up we discovered that the stern was now facing the beach and we were just barely beyond the surf line. These huge rollers would come in and lift the boat and then break no more than 50' behind us and crash on the beach. As soon as I saw what was happening I knew we had to get out of there right away and started getting things below stowed. Chris went topsides to secure things and then I heard him make some unintelligible noise and tell me to come up and look. The dinghy was deflated and sinking, the outboard was totally underwater and the seat & gas tank were beginning to float away. The only way to get it hoisted out of the water and onto the davits was for Chris to go in. The next 30 minutes or so were hair-raising. Chris got in the water, handed the dinghy seat up to me, then detached the gas tank from the outboard and handed that up. By now the swells had turned the dinghy upside down making the next chore even more difficult and hazardous. I handed the line for the outboard lift to Chris and he had to get under the dink, attach it to the harness on the outboard and detach the outboard from the dinghy so Patty & I could lift it. We were both very concerned. He was between the stern of the boat (which was being lifted out of the water and then slammed back down into it by each big swell) and the dinghy as he worked to get all this done, all the while trying to avoid being carried to the beach or smashed by “Faith”. It was very, very scary. He finally got the outboard ready to lift and then moved away from the boat while Patty & I lifted it. Unfortunately, the line was twisted and we couldn't get the outboard on its stand so Chris had to climb back on board to accomplish that. When the motor was secured, he was back in the water to attach the davit lines to the fore and aft of the dinghy so we could raise that. Once he was safely back aboard "Faith" we raised the dinghy and then hurried to get out of there. Oh...by the way...did I mention that he did all this in the buff??? He'd had shorts on but as soon as they got wet they slid down and off so he decided to use that as an advantage.

I started the motor and began raising the anchor. I wasn't totally sure how close to the beach the anchor was set so I was plenty concerned that it might be inside the surf line. That would create a whole new set of problems. It all turned out fine and as soon as the anchor was up we powered out to sea.

The rest of the trip, on into San Carlos, turned out to be much better than we’d anticipated. The swells were still quite large (4 to 5 ft) and the wind stayed around 20 knots of wind but with the wind out of the SW we weren't fighting it and were able to make some decent time. We arrived in San Carlos 7 hours later and were able to pull into a lovely slip at the Marina Real. It was a real relief to sleep on a boat that was still and quiet.