THE START
The whale at the entrance, coming in alongside Angles Gate lighthouse, was it a sign? Was it saying, I don't want to be out here, so you should not either? Well, we didn't take it as such after discussing it. We thought it was probably having fun, riding the surf, got too far inside, and angled itself to get through the gap on the last wave.
Oh, I did not mention the drenching downpour thunder/lightening storm that was blasting the marina as I drove up to get to the boat. I called Camilo on the boat to get someone up to let me in the gate. He told me there were two Brads running around in the parking area with the key. I made it into the bathroom building lobby quickly carrying my gear bag. I found one Brad under the cover of the lobby. He was in khakis and a t-shirt, soaked to the bone.I wanted to get into my foulies before walking the long distance to the boat. Brad, on the other hand, had come up for a quick trip to the loo and all of his gear was already on the boat. For once in Southern California, it was not the place to leave the gear!
The wind was in the low 20's as we left the marina, and we set a course for our first leg to Santa Barbara Island. The crew consisted of Brad Petway, Brad, Dan Perozzi, Dino Lepardo, Leon Goss, Tim Fredreicks, Kathy St. Amant, and Camilo Martinez. The start was at 1500. We shared the helm around and had a wonderful afternoon sail. The wind kept building all day. We had already totally lost one crew member to the seasick gods, he actually never came out of the bunk until we were inside, hours later. I was watch captain at the time and asked one of the crew, Brad Petway from San Francisco, at the expense of seeming like a woosie Southern California sailor, when he thought we should put in the second reef. He said, "I was hoping you would say that!". So, we did. We both did not want to say it first. Silly now that you think about it. We stated so many time the rest of the night... thank God we did.
Here is a little video of the nice sail in the afternoon. I shot it along with Leon Goss, who hung over the side of the boat to get the cool low down water shots. I am waiting for Camilo to send me the video he shot when it was really honkin'! I will put it up when I get it. Tim Fredricks passes by the camera, Dan Perozzi is on the helm, and Brad Petway is riding the aft rail in the shot.
BUILDING WINDS AND GROWING SEAS
I took the helm at 1700 hours and began my turn steering through the wet hard slog into very large seas. There was continuous fish feedings going on, but everyone stayed up and on the rail. The wind continued to build. We were seeing 35+ kts sustained, and puffs to 40 kts at this time. The West end of Catalina looked inviting...just turn the boat a little, and jam over to Cat Harbor... calm Cat Harbor...hmmmm.
Camilo got out his camera and took some great video while standing in the cockpit. I was driving around the big ones the best I could, but every once and a while, a "crester" appeared and we would launch half the boat off the wave and crash down the backside. I would have loved to have seen this from the outside looking in, half a 47 footer out of the water. I know it was at least half, because I could see the backside of the wave while the bow was airborne, as I was steering in the back. I also felt the CRASH as she came back down.
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Macando Pushing Water!
Frame shot taken from video taken by Leon Goss. |
One of these came on us and just buried three quarters of the boat. I got bashed with the white water, ducked my head and hung onto the wheel very tightly. I apologized to everyone, I just did not see it coming. I also realized that this "big" boat (well big to someone who usually sails on Santana 20's and Martin 242's) got very, very, very small very quickly. I was not hooked into the jackline that was strung for the helmsman. This is one of the few times I felt I really wanted to be. I could not stop thinking that I was not hooked in. My tether was draped nicely around my neck. Everyone else was smart, they were hooked in. I could not take either hand off the wheel to hook in, or look down. All concentration was on driving. (This was one day before the fateful Farallones Race off of San Francisco, where almost the whole crew was washed off the boat and perished.)
The wind was up to gale force winds, showing more 40s, and I was getting very tired, it was close to 1900 hours. I called for a replacement. I was on the low side of the boat, and one of the crew on the rail came to take it. I looked up at him and noticed that he was doin' the "gonna' feed the fish head buck".. ya' know... oooomph....oooomph. I yelled at him to grab the wheel and I jammed myself forward just in time to miss the feeding.
I went below and noticed that the refrigerator door had opened and sent the lasagna package, mustard, mayonnaise, and who knows what else out onto the floor. I closed the door to the fridge and locked it in, bent over to retrieve the mustard and mayo and decided I could not bend down that far without leaving a bigger mess on the floor. So, I hit one of the bunks, literally, flew across the cabin, dove in, and tried to rest. I can tell you, there is no rest when half a boat flies out of the water, sends you airborne, and then both of you come crashing back down every 40 seconds or so.
THE SHREDDING - DID I MENTION THIS WAS FRIDAY THE 13TH?
One crew came in from above to warm up and asked what we were trying to prove. Everyone was sick. Only two of us did not provide a feeding the whole trip. At approximately 2100 hours there was an all hands call. The number 3 had shredded. (Camilo had just spent $400 to get the foot stitched from the last time we used it. DOH!) We were going to go home. "Yea." I said it, not loud, 'cause I didn't have much energy left. One of the guys getting geared up to go on deck, hit the sink. All I could see was a set of foulies feeding the sink. I went up to join in the work.
The number 3 was totally shredded. We got the boat turned around and Brad P. took the helm. He muscled the boat through the big surf as we took a look at what we had, what was happening around us, and how we were going to get home, or somewhere, safe. We were on a port tack broad reach and the waves were on our quarter. We were somewhat stable and moving fast right toward King Harbor breakwater. After some discussion, we decided this was the closest safe port in the storm and continued on this track. There would have been a wearing of the boat to get on course to Long Beach, and the waves would have been dead behind us. The night was clear and it was very easy to see the landmarks. For the two crew who knew the area anyway.
Brad asked what to look for. He could only pick out Pt. Vicente Light clearly and was aiming for it. We were approximately 15 miles out, so it was not a big deal. But, he really liked looking at that light and it took some gentle reminders so he would aim to the left of all visible lights at that moment. Palos Verdes was beautiful, and if you did not know what it consisted of, the Pt. Vicente Light looked like it may take you to a harbor entrance.
It was so clear out, it was deceiving for us on how close or far away we were. It was a big deal to go below to look at the chartplotter, as anyone who went below got sick immediately. The driver could not take the time to look at the one by the wheel, it took everything he had to keep us going in the waves. It was too unsafe to have anyone walking around the deck for any reason that was not totally necessary.There were gusts to 48kts, force 10, by now, with sustained winds at 42kts. I truly believe it went higher on some of those, but we were to locked in to working the boat and keeping safe to keep looking at the anemometer on the blasts.
I love sailing. I love telling my sailing stories (OK, I may talk too much). At this moment I was thinking, I can hardly wait until I can say "I DID THIS!". I was really tired (and a touch scared) of "doing it", hurry up, let's get in so I can say "DID".
THE SHREDDED JIB MUST COME DOWN
STORM: It was flagging at the top and whipping at the bottom. Pieces of the jib and threads were all that were left in the foil. Camilo wanted to get it off the foredeck. It was very very dangerous out there, but he and Dino went forward, hooked into the jack lines, and got the bottom pieces under control and on the deck. They came back into the cockpit and rested. Then Camilo wanted to get the piece down that was at the top of the mast flagging. I tried to talk him out of it, all was safe as it was. It would be much safer and easier to get down it in the marina. Camilo and Dino went forward. Camilo let out the halyard and Dino pulled it down. Camilo was talking, we thought to Dino, then he yelled, "Can't you hear me?". Wow, we couldn't even hear THAT! Wind is noisy! He walked back to tell us what he needed us to do.
As soon as the head of the sail, or what was left of it, came free of the foil, Dino could not hold on to it and it went out into the wind. First dragging behind the boat in the water, then up into the sky. They came back again to talk about it. Camilo was very hesitant to cut the halyard where it was now, as most of it was up and out, and not much would be saved. He wanted to pull it in, and then cut it. After realizing the danger of the pieces and halyard wrapping up the main, we finally got him to pull out a knife and cut it. He touched it and off it flew into the night.
TIM TAKES OVER
Brad drove for almost two hours, I am not sure how long. Tim, who knows King Harbor, came in to take over and guide us in. He muscled us through the worst of it, the wind (we saw up to 55 kts) and swells grew as we got into Santa Monica Bay's shallower water. The boat was thrown around with only the double reefed main and no head sail. Tim concentrated on the driving, I guided him towards the harbor entrance. We kept the pier lights to the right, and the whale wall to the left. Finally, we could catch a green or a red harbor entrance light every so often. I picked out a set of lights on the beach in between the pier and entrance that put us right on track for the entrance buoy. We all got a little nervous since we could never see the blinking light of the buoy. Tim and I continued a conversation to be sure we were aiming in the right direction, as doubt comes into your mind when everything is not in place... AND you are surfing in a 10+knots in a 45+kt wind right at the beach. Where was that buoy?
The swells grew and took the view of our destination away quite often as they rolled past us. We could get a look real quick while on top of the swells, and then the land would disappear. As we got closer, it came to me that maybe King Harbor would not be safe to enter. We tried the VHF radio microphone on deck, we all dreaded going down below. We could sort of tell that Harbor Patrol King Harbor could hear us, but we could not hear them clearly. It is LOUD when the wind is blowing that hard. Camilo volunteered to go down to check the chartplotter and give the radio a try on the main unit. We needed to know the status of the entrance before too much longer so we could adjust our course and get up to Marina del Rey if we needed to. It already would have been a nasty ride up there, with the swells on our beam and almost close hauled.
KING HARBOR WHERE ARE YOU
The King Harbor Harbor Patrol told us that the harbor was safe to enter, the waves were breaking, but at an angle that we should be able to handle upon entrance. Camilo let us know that we were four miles out. Tim and I swear, we were close enough to be about ready to go inside! So deceiving when it is so clear and bumpy. Tim muscled on, Camilo came up to feed the fish and went back down to help guide us in.
At this time we discussed how to get the main sail down. The boom topping lift was off the boom, so the boom would come down to deck level. We had it worked out between the person on the halyard and the main trimmer to get the boom on the deck, then let loose the halyard.
Every once and a while Tim would scream that we needed to help him see. "Where is it?" He kept losing the guiding lights. We would get him back on track. Camilo called out the closing distance. The yelling got louder, we got more nervous, still KNOWING that we were on the right track and were going to do this thing just fine.... Yeah Right... Right?
If you have never entered King Harbor, just know it is a tight turn at the rocks, without much room for error. Once inside, it is a very small area covered with buoys, rock walls, moorings, and boats. We kept looking for the buoy with the flashing white light to help guide us in. We finally saw the silhouette of it as we passed. It lay over in the water from the wind and swells, the light blinking only toward the beach. It was lucky we didn't run over it. We had to get all the way inside here, before we could clearly see the necessary entrance lights and scenery. Tim let us all know he could make it out and was ok. (In other words ... shut up!)
INSIDE AND ON THE ROCKS
We made it inside without fan fare. Tim guided us through the entrance, missed all the buoys, and even got us passed the moored tug boat who was shining his light on us and blinding us to what was in the water. Everyone on board was cheering Tim, our hero. The main came down as we planned. Camilo came back and took the wheel as I called up the Harbor Patrol to let them know we were in, as they were waiting to help us tie up at their docks,. They knew. They were watching everything. They watched us as we approached the entrance and swung the corner.
This is when Camilo let us know that the boat's engine would not engage. The engine was running fine, but just not engaging the propeller (oh boy, did that sound familiar!) So, now inside it was becoming very dangerous. There just is no where to go. I was still on the radio with the Harbor Patrol and said we were on our way to the rocks. They were watching the whole thing standing by their boat, jumped in and came to get us. We hit the rocks and bounced about three times. Our seasick crew member who went down right after the start jumped out of the bunk and said, "are we home?". I kinda laughed as I told him we were on rocks. He was all of a sudden feeling much better now that we were inside, then became concerned that he slept through so much. "ROCKS? HUH? Where are we?" The Harbor Patrol pulled us away from the rocks on the third bounce.
NOW WE HAVE TO GET TIED UP TO THE DOCK
The fun was not over yet! It was blowing so hard, the patrol had a hard time moving us around. It took four attempts to get us to the slip, in the mean time we almost went into the stone wall, the rocks again, and a couple of tied up boats. The dock was situated such that Macando would have to get beam to the wind to get up next to the dock. She kept blowing away. By pulling Macando up to the patrol boat, pushing Macando, and throwing the line hard, we got the bow line of Macando over to the dock, and got close enough to get a few guys off the boat and onto the dock. By pushing the stern of Macando with the patrol boat, Macando got close enough to throw a stern line. The stern line got tied up when the bow line was lost and Macando was blowing away from the dock and facing out. Thank heavens the stern line held, and the patrol got into the side of Macando to push her over and get tied up. Easily this whole thing took 25 minutes.
The King Harbor Harbor Patrol / Redondo Fire Department personnel really know their stuff. They saved Macando that night. The crew wasn't really in too much danger inside, but the boat could have caused much damage to itself and to many other boats in the harbor. The patrol boat really got a work out, the guys jammed that engine full out more than once to keep us from hitting things. And to watch the deck hand pull in the tow line to shorten it while the patrol boat was in full juice with a big boat at the end of it being blown away in 45+ kts of wind, was simply amazing.
THE LECTURE
As soon as the boat was tied up safe, the Harbor Patrol skipper looked over at me and asked, "Where did you guys come from?" It took me a moment to tell him, as it really sounded quite silly by now... "we were racing" I said. His eyes popped out of his head and he said "WHAT? RACING? FROM WHERE TO WHERE? WHO IS HOSTING THIS RACE? HOW MANY MORE ARE OUT THERE? WHERE ARE THEY? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? THIS WIND WAS NOT A SECRET YOU KNOW. YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN OUT THERE FOR ANY REASON. OK, I am done with the lecture." I told him that we would be notifying the race committee that we were dropping out and would try to get information on who was still out there.
OUR DINNER
With so much fish feeding going on for so many hours, the crew had empty stomachs. Our hero number two this day was Dino, who cooked up a batch of pasta and sauce and served a very hungry crew at 0030 hours on NOT Friday the 13th anymore. YAAAA Dino! This video is a little taste of our relief as Dino cooked dinner.
THE FINISHERS
All boats had retired, except for two. They both finished the next morning! Sleeper, a JSO 44 and Wind Dancer, a Catalina 42. Wind Dancer had also shredded their number three and sailed to the finish with the pieces blowing in the wind. CHEERS TO THESE GUYS! The wind and swells just kept growing when we turned back, so we know, they had their hands full.
THE MORNING AFTER
THE CREW
There is one thing I wish to say publicly, I would sail anywhere with this crew. Everyone was awesome under extreme pressure and circumstances. When anything was needed, personal discomfort was put on the back burner.
- Camilo Martinez, owner, watch captain & driver
- Brad Petway, down from SF Bay - jib trim, tactics & driver
- Brad - trim, all around crew
- Dan Perozzi - trim, driver and all around crew
- Leon Goss, main trim
- Dino Lopardo - foredeck & cook
- Tim Fredricks - trim, driver & hero
- Kathy St. Amant - watch captain & driver
MACANDO
Macando was pulled out by the Redondo Beach boat yard on Monday to check the bottom and get the engine and linkage checked out. I don't know the results of this at this time. But I do know we blew up a sail, cut and lost a halyard, and went on the rocks. Yep, this was an adventure!
A FEW CREW EMAILS AFTER THE ADVENTURE
From: "Kathy St. Amant" <CaptainKathy@gmail.com>
Date: Saturday, April 14, 2012 5:55 PM
Hi guys,
Without sounding "syrupy", we spent last night in an adventure we will remember and talk about forever. It was a night that not many sailors get to experience. I just wanted to say, I am very glad I had this experience with all of you. I would sail anywhere with you guys... puke or not!!!
:-)
Best, and see ya'll on the water,
Kathy
Subject: Re: What a Night!
From: Camilo
Date: Sun, April 15, 2012 3:01 pm
Yes, not many non-sailors can relate to what we experienced, and will think we are crazy. I am glad we made it back safely, and the worse we seemed to suffer was losing our lunches. It was a pretty rough night, and showed us why the sea deserves so much respect.
This last point is especially important when we consider what happened yesterday in San Francisco. During the Full-Crewed Farallones Race, from the Bay to the Farallones Islands 25 miles out, one boat (Low Speed Chase, a Sydney 38) was hit by a big wave and several crew were washed aboard. The remaining crew tried to rescue those overboard, but they could only recover one body before they were smashed on the rocks. The Coast Guard was able to rescue three crew members and the deceased. Four are still missing. This will probably be the worse sailing accident in the history of SF Sailing.
Low Speed Chase was a well-sailed boat, and we often raced in the same class. (editors note: Macando came to Southern California after years of racing in SF Bay) The conditions were normal for this time of year: 25 kts of wind, but seas were about 10-15 feet. It was probably a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You just never know what will happen. You just have to be as safe as possible when you can.
I hope everyone else enjoyed the rest of their weekend. Let's hope the CG finds the remaining crew.
Camilo
Subject: Re: What a Night!
From: Camilo
Date: Sun, April 15, 2012 8:51 pm
Here's a quick note from Mike Trujillo of the LAYC:
Hi Camilo
Thanks for the note, and very sad about the SF incident. Honestly, I was worried during every moment of our race. The conditions were brutal, and we sure didn't want anyone to get hurt.
See below, Sleeper finishing. Unconfirmed, but we hear that jib blew out at the island. Meaning how far sailing on main only in those conditions?!
Windancer said you guys were smoking out there! By the time they got to the island, only 2 of 7 could work. The rest too seasick. Many anecdotes about their trip. 86 year old dad PK Edwards at helm coming in. Tough dudes!
Camilo, thanks so much for supporting the series. Some serious conditions all three races. Some years we have no wind at all.
Give a call sometime.
Mike
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