Since the early days, when we first began warming up to this crazy idea of getting on a small sailboat and heading for Mexico, I've had two persistant scary thoughts about the journey: crossing through the powerful, crazy, mixed up outflow waters off the Columbia River, and rounding the "dreaded Cape Mendocino".
Well, today, after years of nervous anticipation, I can finally say "been there, done that!".
We left Eureka, California on Monday morning before dawn and made our way down the Humboldt River and across the river bar at slack water (being both Capricorns, we had planned our crossing to within minutes for the safest time). The fog settled in as we made our way out to our first offshore waypoint, but our radar was working well and the seas were calm, with a very gentle swell from the northwest.
So.. after all those years of anticipation and all those stories of other boats getting "beat up" while rounding the Cape... our experience was almost a bit anticlimactic. Almost that, but definately not disappointing... it was exactly what we had planned (and hoped) for.
To celebrate our achievement, we were treated to a steady stream of marine wildlife visitors. It started innocently enough.... our new friends Rich and Cat, on Anna (a wonderful Tianna 37) were motoring along about a mile off our port side. Kat had just hailed us on the VHF to tell us they'd been surrounded by dolphins for 10 minutes. We were happy for them and (to be honest) just a little bit envious.
A short while later... I noticed a splash about 50 yards ahead, then a smooth back arching through the water and a flash of white. I called Carolyn, and by the time she came up the companionway from the cabin, we had several Pacific Whitesided Dolphins swimming up near the bow of the boat. We clipped on our teathers to the jacklines and both went up the bow.
I've heard that these wonderful creatures come to play in the compression waves off the side of sailboats. It's an amazing thing to watch. I lay on the deck and watched them take turns, one by one, swimming up next to the hull and then, woosh away with a flick of a powerful tailfin, only to be replaced by yet another.
After we came back to the cockpit, both with big smiles on our faces, I called Cat back to tell her about our visit. Once we'd switched to a working channel she said, in an awefilled voice "but did you see the whale?"
While we'd been up at the bow playing with "our" dolphins, a Humpback whale had done a full body breach out of the water about 20 yards in front of Anna. We looked out and saw two large dorsal fins, about halfway between our boats. One was smaller than the other, so we realized that this was likely a mother and calf, which may have explained the protective behaviour of the whale that Cat had seen.
The next morning, we had our very own whale encounter. The dawn came with overcast skies and very light winds. We had been motoring all night and, shortly after shutting down our engine, we sailed slowly up to a tideline of ripples in the water and then through a large colony of seabirds. CJ called out "Sorry to break up the convention, guys", as they each lifted up off the water in time for us to pass. Little did we realize at the time that those birds where a sign of something more.
Moments later, I heard a blowing sound and turned around to see a whale's tail about 50 yards behind us on our port side. Then I saw the distinctive barnacled side of a large Humpback to our starboard ... and then yet more ahead of us. For the next 40 minutes, while I did my best to maintain a reasonably straight course in the light wind, we watched a large pod of Humpbacks fishing (16 - 20, we couldn't be sure). As they appeared to keep circling back toward us, I had to keep faith that they knew we were there!
The thing I will never forget about this experience, is the sound of the whales calling to each other as they organized their hunt. I'd heard this sound before on recordings, taken by underwater microphones, but had never known that a sailor could actually hear it above water, on a quiet morning at sea with the engine off.
Of course there are no photos. I was too busy steering and Carolyn was too busy adjusting sails to keep us moving forward.
You'll just to take my word for it.
thanks for listening.
Kathy
