Sailing Isn’t A Lot Of Fun In These Conditions
On the mainland, the wind was whipping so hard windows were rattling and the Pacific Ocean waves were exploding into the jetties protecting the Southern California harbors. The beaches were not only empty, it was far too windy for even the daily die-hards to be playing beach volleyball.
And I was on a sailboat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
I, and a few others, were returning from Buccaneer Days, the annual pirate festival on Catalina Island. I was on a 36-foot sailboat with four other people and we had to cross the ocean back to Redondo Beach. Normally it’s a casual and leisurely 4 1/2-hour to five-hour sail. This day would be much different.
It was so windy and choppy that mere minutes into the journey our skipper got sick. He went below and was not seen again until we made port. In his place, a gentle gentleman named Dean grabbed the tiller while I took a seat in the cockpit.
Immediately, a wave came crashing over the side and soaked me from my shirt through my shorts. I was destined to be damp the whole trip.
The boat was bouncing up and down as if the ocean were a trampoline and we were going more north-to-south than west-to-east. Every few minutes Dean would make a sharp turn and we either rolled over a huge swell – high up and then far down, not unlike turbulence in an airplane – or we would slam into a wave causing a wall of water to come crashing over the side.
And right on top of me every time, of course.
Fortunately, I had a lot of confidence in Dean. He’s from San Francisco where conditions such as these are fairly common on the windy bay. He loved it, in fact, and was smiling each time we approached a big swell.
On another boat, however, a friend was in panic mode. She was sailing solo with a skipper who was far less cool and calm than Dean. If fact, he strapped himself in as if going through a hurricane, telling her what do do if he went overboard. His actions, quite frankly, were the only thing that were overboard.
Eventually, Catalina Island disappeared behind us and the mainland appeared in the form of the cliffs of Palos Verdes. Ever so slowly, we approached Redondo Beach. But as we sailed within almost touching distance of the jetty and the safety of King Harbor, the shallower water caused the swells to increase. Plus, we had to dodge all the lobster pots near the coast; we sure didn’t want to get tangled up in one of those lines.
When at last we entered the harbor and past the safety of the jetty, we all let out a big sigh. Even the skipper poked his head out from below. Ahh, we had made it!
Sure, I was soaked but it was an adventure to tell and one I did tell later in the day, for I jumped on my bike and headed to the beer garden in neighboring Manhattan Beach for its annual festival town as Hometown Fair.
As for my panicked friend on the other sailboat, she made a beeline for the bathroom.
I, on the other hand, had a beer.
Cheers!
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