Intensities

There is a certain kind of intensity that comes with this new lifestyle. Every emotion and experience seems amplified. Perhaps it is being almost always in the elements, physically and viscerally feeling every sensation.

This morning we are sitting in the cockpit of Sputnik with a very cool 10 knot southerly breeze on the nose, seas relatively flat, motoring with the autopilot on towards Cape Mendocino. The sun is just peaking out and hinting at warmth, and we are bundled in our sweaters and jackets sipping coffee and eating croissants (Jud had to buy them as we have been jokingly referring to this town as croissant city). Pretty sweet! We have just left Crescent City armed with a little more experience and intel from the local fisherman on when and where to round Cape. It will be another overnight passage, hopefully with no drama, as the Cape is wont to produce with compressed wind speeds and rolly seas. We are continuing to be conservative in our route timing as this cape has a reputation and some fellow sailors ahead of us had less than ideal circumstances and say they got the shit kicked out of them. Not for us yet!

We have had a few overnight passages now (from Neah Bay to Astoria, Astoria to Coos Bay, Coos Bay to Newport, Newport to Crescent City and now Crescent City to Shelter Cove). We have figured out a 4 hour watch system, a mid-berth sleeping arrangement, and ways to eat comfortably with swelling seas. We also have had some great wind at times and happily have our windvane working. Happy times!

Downwind sail plan

It also takes a bit of getting used to, this sleep deprivation which does help to intensify our moods, and also cause a little bit of blur, brain haze. Early on when we couldn’t get our wind vane working, we got super discouraged, anxious, and snapped at each other. Later feeling Intense joy at seeing a surfacing blue whale. Intense fatigue just trying to stay awake in the middle of the night. Intensely wishing for stillness and quiet when the boat is pitching and the wind is howling. It sometimes requires endurance. It is sometimes monotonous. Sometimes I don’t like it. And other times I wouldn’t change it for anything. We are certainly not running on a regular clock, but one that includes wind, tides and currents, weather windows and a watch schedule. Days of the week mean little and sometimes things just seem to all mush together.

Yesterday we rented a car and made our way into the northern redwood forest. We chose a 10k round trip hike on the Boy Scout tree trail. We were met with incredible beauty, lush forests, cathedral groves. Also a deep calming silence I haven’t felt in other forests. There was perhaps a little birdlife and we saw a red squirrel, but in general, it didn’t seem a hive of wild activity. Perhaps it was there and we didn’t notice it, but the sleeping giant trees seemed to envelope and speak for everything else. They certainly inspired awe.

People have been super friendly and lovely here. It started when we made our way into the marina and the fishing boat crew heading out commented on our cool boat and then cheered when they saw we were from Canada. When we were just touching the dock to tie up, some other guys offered to help. Our experience has been that fisher people and sail boaters don’t really mix, but that has been turned upside down here. The only uber driver in town gave us his number so we could call him privately for any lifts we need. From the marina folks, to the restaurant waitress, all gracious, kind and helpful. Kind of the best experience you could hope for as a visitor.

So! We made it to California! It’s the north still, so all bundled up on the ocean anyway (and the fog can get you soaking wet in seconds like I have never experienced). Looking forward to some warmth, maybe a t-shirt in the coming days. Before then, this cape to navigate, some sheltered cove after to withstand the intense blows forecast tomorrow evening for a couple of days. San Francisco, several hundred miles south, is in our sights!

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