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Sometimes it's not fun!
Santa Cruz to Moss Landing, April 4, 2009
Harry Gordon
WWP14 #234 Manatee
As Manatee headed out of the Santa Cruz harbor Saturday morning, one of a fleet of Potters and
other small craft, the following wind was still light. I motored for a while, then shut off the outboard
and began sailing, as I observed the other Potter Yachters appeared to be doing, but Manatee was
then only making about 1-1/2 knots.
The fleet had spread out. There was little visual reference for navigation, only haze ahead and to the
sides. A quick "eyeball plot" on a chart had suggested a course of 120 degrees magnetic would head
me in the general direction of Moss Landing. I had never before sailed in or out of Moss Landing.
I had not set up my handheld GPS for some time, and I didn't have a Moss Landing waypoint entered
as I had thought, so I was fumbling about trying to get the GPS in the right mode of operation while
simultaneously getting the boat settled in. There were swells as soon as I left the harbor, and I was
soon feeling a little sick from the motion while my eyes were focused on the GPS.
I finally got the GPS under control, setting a course for a mark off Moss Landing, which put me on a
mag heading of 121 deg. That track also kept me pointed at a Potter 19 with red and white sails,
which was apparently on the same track, so navigation became simply a matter of following the
colorful sails and confirming my track on the GPS. It was a broad reach all the way, and the winds
gradually increased. It was gratifying when I started to see, just barely in the haze, the two tall stacks
of the Moss Landing power plant. The stacks were dead ahead, confirming my heading, but I was
only about a fourth of the way there and still had a long, long way to go. Keith Hubbard, in the other
lateen-rigged Potter, Triple Deuces, was cruising a parallel course to seaward.
Monterey Bay is technically a bight, not a bay. While the harbors at Santa Cruz at the north and
Monterey at the south are somewhat sheltered by Pt. Santa Cruz and Pt. Pinos, respectively, Moss
Landing, in the middle of the 22-mile bight, faces open sea. Monterey Canyon, one of the largest
underwater canyons in the world, begins off Moss Landing
The wind increased, and the swells grew larger and more irregular, and I found myself working hard.
Triple Deuce, with a smaller sail, had fallen behind and was soon out of sight. Manatee was now
making over 4 knots on a broad reach, and the north wind was chilly, which I hadn't anticipated. I
thought I had dressed warmly enough, but I was getting increasingly chilled, which caused my
shoulder to ache. I managed to grab a muffler from the clothing bag in the cabin and wrapped it
around my neck, and a couple of sips of hot coffee from a thermos, helped slightly. I was only half
way to my destination and began to wonder if I should be concerned about hypothermia, but there
was no option except to keep going. Moss Landing was now the nearest harbor and downwind. I was
still a little seasick too. But was I having fun? Well, actually, NO.
The apparent wind felt strong for a broad reach, so I decided reefing was probably a good idea. I
thought about it carefully before doing anything, and it went well, unlike the time outside Loch
Lomond, when the rig fouled with the sails halfway up, and the Potter was going around in circles..
This time I tightened the lazy jack line, lowered the yard until the sail's reef level was at the boom,
then turned windward enough to grab the jiffy reef line as the boom came within reach, and pulled it
as far as it would go. I didn't bother with sail ties, just hauled the yard and sail back up and corrected
my heading. Manatee still was moving well with the reduced sail.
The large, irregular swells required constant steering. Occasionally the boat would fall off into a hole
and rock violently, and I would throw myself down into a crouch behind the companionway, trying to
get my weight as low as possible in the cockpit, while hanging on for dear life. Once, I heard myself
say, "Thank you, Stanley!" out of gratitude for the Potter's inherent seaworthiness. Every so often I
would notice increased load on the tiller and I would look aft and see the rudder push-pull knob had
risen a few inches, then I would make a quick dive to the transom to push the rudder blade back
down.
Moss Landing slowly drew closer. My heading was to the right of the stacks because of the mark I
was tracking to, which was further out than I had realized. I heard Gretchen announce on the VHF
that she had just entered the harbor, but a large wave had rolled into the channel and broken over
the stern as they entered, which was not reassuring to me. Eventually, I was abeam of the stacks and
turned toward what I hoped was the harbor entrance. I was now sailing by the lee, and I let the lateen
sail out further forward, beyond the 90 deg boom position to avoid a jibe. My other options were to do
a controlled jibe or a 270 deg come-about to get the sail on the downwind side, but I knew I had to
make a turn to starboard after entering the harbor, so I kept the sail to windward. Eventually,
however, Manatee took over and jibed without my help.
At the skippers' meeting before departure, we had been advised to bear close to the green mark
when entering to avoid possible breakers on the red side of the channel. The only green mark I saw
at first was on the end of the breakwater, so I headed for that, then I saw a green float as I grew
closer and zig-zagged around it. Once in the harbor, things quieted down, and the turn into the
marina channel was no problem except Manatee got temporarily stuck in the mud. Dave Kautz sailed
past me in Tilly Lucy, having just reentered behind me, and headed for the nearby launch ramp
docks. Dave had launched at Moss Landing and sailed out to meet the arriving boats. I decided to tie
up at the ramp docks too instead of going to the Elkhorn Yacht Club slips as planned.
I learned that Dave wasn't staying overnight, so I begged a ride with him back to the Santa Cruz ramp
to retrieve my car and trailer. He agreed and we walked over to the yacht club, where I relaxed,
sipped a hot coffee, and compared notes with the other Potter Yachters. I was relieved to learn that
all boats in our fleet made it in okay, although two or three had taken water into the cockpit. Dory
Taylor had hurt his leg in a fall and decided he wasn't up to the return sail either, so we both rode
with Dave back to Santa Cruz. Hauling the boat back over narrow, winding Hwy 17 in the Saturday
night traffic continued the adventure, but it was wonderful to arrive home and finally eat the snacks I
had packed for the sail.
I had launched from Santa Cruz only once before, and that was 30 years ago. In May 1979, Manatee,
with another P14, De Marsh's Ipo, sailed straight across to Monterey, an all-day trip. It was
challenging for my level of experience at the time, but I don't think those 22 miles took nearly as much
out of me as this shorter sail to Moss Landing. My thighs were so sore I could hardly stand up for the
next two days. Could it be that I'm not quite as fit or intrepid as I was 30 years ago? Of course not!
The swells were just bigger this time!
Santa Cruz to Moss Landing, April 4, 2009
Harry Gordon
WWP14 #234 Manatee
As Manatee headed out of the Santa Cruz harbor Saturday morning, one of a fleet of Potters and
other small craft, the following wind was still light. I motored for a while, then shut off the outboard
and began sailing, as I observed the other Potter Yachters appeared to be doing, but Manatee was
then only making about 1-1/2 knots.
The fleet had spread out. There was little visual reference for navigation, only haze ahead and to the
sides. A quick "eyeball plot" on a chart had suggested a course of 120 degrees magnetic would head
me in the general direction of Moss Landing. I had never before sailed in or out of Moss Landing.
I had not set up my handheld GPS for some time, and I didn't have a Moss Landing waypoint entered
as I had thought, so I was fumbling about trying to get the GPS in the right mode of operation while
simultaneously getting the boat settled in. There were swells as soon as I left the harbor, and I was
soon feeling a little sick from the motion while my eyes were focused on the GPS.
I finally got the GPS under control, setting a course for a mark off Moss Landing, which put me on a
mag heading of 121 deg. That track also kept me pointed at a Potter 19 with red and white sails,
which was apparently on the same track, so navigation became simply a matter of following the
colorful sails and confirming my track on the GPS. It was a broad reach all the way, and the winds
gradually increased. It was gratifying when I started to see, just barely in the haze, the two tall stacks
of the Moss Landing power plant. The stacks were dead ahead, confirming my heading, but I was
only about a fourth of the way there and still had a long, long way to go. Keith Hubbard, in the other
lateen-rigged Potter, Triple Deuces, was cruising a parallel course to seaward.
Monterey Bay is technically a bight, not a bay. While the harbors at Santa Cruz at the north and
Monterey at the south are somewhat sheltered by Pt. Santa Cruz and Pt. Pinos, respectively, Moss
Landing, in the middle of the 22-mile bight, faces open sea. Monterey Canyon, one of the largest
underwater canyons in the world, begins off Moss Landing
The wind increased, and the swells grew larger and more irregular, and I found myself working hard.
Triple Deuce, with a smaller sail, had fallen behind and was soon out of sight. Manatee was now
making over 4 knots on a broad reach, and the north wind was chilly, which I hadn't anticipated. I
thought I had dressed warmly enough, but I was getting increasingly chilled, which caused my
shoulder to ache. I managed to grab a muffler from the clothing bag in the cabin and wrapped it
around my neck, and a couple of sips of hot coffee from a thermos, helped slightly. I was only half
way to my destination and began to wonder if I should be concerned about hypothermia, but there
was no option except to keep going. Moss Landing was now the nearest harbor and downwind. I was
still a little seasick too. But was I having fun? Well, actually, NO.
The apparent wind felt strong for a broad reach, so I decided reefing was probably a good idea. I
thought about it carefully before doing anything, and it went well, unlike the time outside Loch
Lomond, when the rig fouled with the sails halfway up, and the Potter was going around in circles..
This time I tightened the lazy jack line, lowered the yard until the sail's reef level was at the boom,
then turned windward enough to grab the jiffy reef line as the boom came within reach, and pulled it
as far as it would go. I didn't bother with sail ties, just hauled the yard and sail back up and corrected
my heading. Manatee still was moving well with the reduced sail.
The large, irregular swells required constant steering. Occasionally the boat would fall off into a hole
and rock violently, and I would throw myself down into a crouch behind the companionway, trying to
get my weight as low as possible in the cockpit, while hanging on for dear life. Once, I heard myself
say, "Thank you, Stanley!" out of gratitude for the Potter's inherent seaworthiness. Every so often I
would notice increased load on the tiller and I would look aft and see the rudder push-pull knob had
risen a few inches, then I would make a quick dive to the transom to push the rudder blade back
down.
Moss Landing slowly drew closer. My heading was to the right of the stacks because of the mark I
was tracking to, which was further out than I had realized. I heard Gretchen announce on the VHF
that she had just entered the harbor, but a large wave had rolled into the channel and broken over
the stern as they entered, which was not reassuring to me. Eventually, I was abeam of the stacks and
turned toward what I hoped was the harbor entrance. I was now sailing by the lee, and I let the lateen
sail out further forward, beyond the 90 deg boom position to avoid a jibe. My other options were to do
a controlled jibe or a 270 deg come-about to get the sail on the downwind side, but I knew I had to
make a turn to starboard after entering the harbor, so I kept the sail to windward. Eventually,
however, Manatee took over and jibed without my help.
At the skippers' meeting before departure, we had been advised to bear close to the green mark
when entering to avoid possible breakers on the red side of the channel. The only green mark I saw
at first was on the end of the breakwater, so I headed for that, then I saw a green float as I grew
closer and zig-zagged around it. Once in the harbor, things quieted down, and the turn into the
marina channel was no problem except Manatee got temporarily stuck in the mud. Dave Kautz sailed
past me in Tilly Lucy, having just reentered behind me, and headed for the nearby launch ramp
docks. Dave had launched at Moss Landing and sailed out to meet the arriving boats. I decided to tie
up at the ramp docks too instead of going to the Elkhorn Yacht Club slips as planned.
I learned that Dave wasn't staying overnight, so I begged a ride with him back to the Santa Cruz ramp
to retrieve my car and trailer. He agreed and we walked over to the yacht club, where I relaxed,
sipped a hot coffee, and compared notes with the other Potter Yachters. I was relieved to learn that
all boats in our fleet made it in okay, although two or three had taken water into the cockpit. Dory
Taylor had hurt his leg in a fall and decided he wasn't up to the return sail either, so we both rode
with Dave back to Santa Cruz. Hauling the boat back over narrow, winding Hwy 17 in the Saturday
night traffic continued the adventure, but it was wonderful to arrive home and finally eat the snacks I
had packed for the sail.
I had launched from Santa Cruz only once before, and that was 30 years ago. In May 1979, Manatee,
with another P14, De Marsh's Ipo, sailed straight across to Monterey, an all-day trip. It was
challenging for my level of experience at the time, but I don't think those 22 miles took nearly as much
out of me as this shorter sail to Moss Landing. My thighs were so sore I could hardly stand up for the
next two days. Could it be that I'm not quite as fit or intrepid as I was 30 years ago? Of course not!
The swells were just bigger this time!
