Latitude 34 degrees 01' N
Longitude 119 degrees 32' W
Smugglers Cove, Channels Islands

 

June 4,1999, Friday

    We  came to the Channel Islands to gain familiarity with our boat and heavy weather.  Today finds us testing both our ground tackle and patience.   We are at anchor riding out high winds, waiting for some part of our equipment to fail and the fire drill of regaining control to start. Hopefully it will happen during daylight hours.

       The wind outside in the cockpit as opposed to the warmth comfort of the cabin below decks, is blowing 30  knots sustained with gusts to 37 knots. (A knot is a measure of speed based on a nautical mile and is 15% more than a mile per hour.) I think our anemometer errs, however, because it doesn't  give any reading until 10 knots. High Drama  heels about 8 degrees as she sails back and forth straining  on her anchor rode. This angle of heel at anchor without sails is as much as we heeled over in most  breezes in San Diego Bay.  Both Ann and I occasionally get queasy from the onset of mal de mer. Fortunately, the queasiness passes without maturing. We sat out all yesterday at anchor and will probably sit out tomorrow.  This was not quite what we had in mind for our home opener.

    We sailed across from Ventura, California to Santa Cruz Island several days ago, on June 1. We anchored  the first night in a fairly easy and open anchorage, away from any other boats to give us room for the inevitable mistakes that always seem to accompany the first anchorage. We got settled down in plenty of time and felt on top of our game. Smugglers' Cove is a broad beach with about a half  a mile space for an anchor.  We relaxed, Jeff fished, and we studied the cruising guide for more information on other anchorage's for the next day.

    We left early for Coches Prietos (Black Pigs) anchorage on Wednesday. We have heard descriptions of this anchorage as among the most beautiful in the area. Everyone who writes about cruising in this area issues  cautions about weather, surf and swells. "Don't get caught in this anchorage if the swell is running," they say. But I have never been out on the Pacific when there was no swell. One aspect of sailing over the years with people  who have no more sailing and cruising than we is that we don't have a good benchmark to determine how much swell is is too much. Gaining knowledge by reading alone certainly has limitations. We approach the cove. It is beautiful. We quickly drop the anchor. The swell rises and falls  about 7 feet in 12 second intervals. Of course, each swell is not the same as the last, and while we know there is a pattern, we cannot recognize it. More reading. With the anchorage on the south side of the island, the swell raps around the west point and seems to pack quite a whollop into the pristine little anchorage. It look as if the whole little bay empties half of it's volume with each large swell.We decide  that this much water action would never allow us to sleep at night, because of both the motion and the worry about what might happen if our anchor drags.  Back to Smugglers.

    Back at Smugglers we deploy the CQR,our primary anchor and  set a snubber on the chain rode. The purpose of a snubber is to transfer the load of the chain, which is managed by an electric windlass on deck, to nylon rope which is attached to two deck cleats on either side of the deck. We then go below decks to read about how to set a snubber. Of course, The Writers describe using more and different line than I have used, but I am at least confident that the load is being distributed better.

    The wind howls on. We sail back and forth. Each time High Drama reaches the limit of the anchor rode in one direction she heels over, strains, and then sails back the other direction.

    I consult The Writers again about how to reduce the strain. A riding sail is out because we don't have one. We try to set another anchor. The fluke type Fortress won't set in the grass.  We sail on at anchor through the night. Tomorrow the weather is supposed to moderate.