Log 3 - San Juan Islands to San Francisco See Photos Here We departed Friday Harbor on August 25th at 0600 (that's 6:00 am for you landlubbers) and motored west, out the Straight of Juan de Fuca, in very light Easterly (rare) winds. With the strong ebb current and the favorable winds, we were able to make it all the way to Neah Bay in exactly 12 hours with the only delay being some maneuvers we had to make to avoid a nuclear sub and its escort vessel. During this leg, we did experience a problem with our autopilot, after it had to make a large course change when Gumbo Ya-Ya got stuck in a tide rip. While the autopilot continued to steer the boat properly, it made an odd "clunking" noise every minute or two. We gave the autopilot a good look-over when we reached Neah Bay but could not find anything obviously wrong. After calling the rep for the device, we decided that it was probably safe to keep using it until San Francisco. Our additional crew, Dean Smith from the s/v Rua Hatu, arrived the following day at noon and later that evening we raised anchor and took the boat for series of circular course changes to re-calibrate the autopilot and then hit the sack early in preparation for an early morning departure. At 0600 (we seem to like that time) we departed Neah Bay in company with a Nordic Tug, named "Valentine" and an Island Packet 38 named "Otter". We had established an informal VHF radio net with those vessels so that we could keep an eye on each other until the Columbia River (where the other vessels were stopping). There was some excitement when we encountered a very strong tide rip between Tatoosh Island and Duncan rock - took alot of water over the bow and heard alot of unlady-like words come from the first mates mouth. But, after that, we motor-sailed South in light to non-existent winds. We motored all day and all night in confused cross-swells and light winds until dawn, when the Skipper said "enough of this BS" and we raised a reefed main and poled out the jib, turned off the motor, and got the boat sailing in stronger wind. We set up the wind vane self-steering device and sat back and watched the boat sail itself for the next 12 hours until the winds pooped out. The second night out, we used the autopilot to steer as there was little wind. (For those of you who haven't sailed offshore at night, it is REALLY nice to not have to sit behind the wheel and stare at the compass for 3 hours at a time). The next morning the wind picked up again from the NW and we set sail, wing and wing, with the vane doing the steering. After listening to the NOAA weather report that forecasted winds of 25-30 knots in the vicinity of Cape Blanco and Cape Mendocino, we decided to pull into Coos Bay to wait for lighter conditions (Capes Blanco and Mendocino are known for the huge seas that are generated when a large Pacific swell hits the shallower depths. When a strong wind is added to the equation, look out!). We arrived at the docks of Charleston Harbor in Coos Bay at noon and were immediately assaulted by the crowds on the docks who spend the entire day throwing and retrieving crab traps (with limited results), leaving the tuna heads (used for bait) and sea weed and other bottom stuff all over the docks. One of the things we "JUST LOVE" about the Charleston Marina is its lack of doors on the men's room stalls (there are just some things that you want privacy for). When we stopped at this marina during our trip down the coast in 1995, our boys came up with the term: "the mandatory shuffle". That's the sound you make with your feet as you're sitting on the throne and here someone enter the restroom to let them know you're there. On September 2, after hearing a favorable weather report, we left the dock, stopped at the fuel dock to top-off, and then departed Coos Bay (with a huge sigh of relief!). We motor-sailed all day and night in light wind and cold temperatures. It was cold enough that we all wore our Mustang full-body, insulated foulweather gear to keep warm. The next morning the wind had picked up to the 10-15 knot range that had been predicted, so we set sail, turned off the motor and the Skipper went down for a nap. No sooner had his head hit the pillow when he was summoned on deck - the wind had shifted and was now coming from the South and building rapidly. Soon, we were down to a double-reefed main and a half-furled genny, beating to weather in 25-30 knot winds. So much for the NOAA forecast! Turns out there was alot of thunder shower activity and we had gotten into the middle of a large squall. Soon the wind shifted back to the NW and we started sailing comfortably again. That is, until the First Mate listened to the radio where she heard a special notice to mariners, warning boaters in our area to seek shelter due to strong wind conditions. So, once again, we decided to pull in for the night, this time at Humbolt Bay (Eureka, Calif.). Luckily, Dean had lived there for a few years and was very familiar with the bar (river mouth, not drinking establishment) and helped pilot us up the river until we tied to a Municipal Marina dock. A local boater befriended us and loaned us his marina and shower key (oh yeah!) and after taking showers, Dean treated the Skipper and First Mate to an excellent dinner at a local establishment. We then staggered home at hit the sack early, with plans of an early departure. On September 4, after hearing a forecast of SW 10 knots changing to NW 10 knots at Cape Mendocino, we left the dock at fifteen minutes ATER our normal 0600. Sure enough, we motored into 10 knots of SW wind for about 8 hours as we slowly made our way around the Cape. By dusk, the winds had died and we motored south in glassy-smooth seas. The Skipper was once again awakened from his nap by a cry of "fish on!". Dean had managed to catch a beautiful 15lb Chinook salmon, which he proceeded to clean and deliver 8 steaks and 2 huge fillets. After a broiled salmon dinner, we had a nice night watch with overcast skies, warmer temps and smooth seas. In the morning we continued motoring (no wind) and entertained hopes of reaching San Francisco Bay by sundown. However, we soon could tell, by reading the GPS that a 1 knot adverse current was going to force us to either enter SF bay after dark (not a great idea because of all the ship traffic) or spend the night at anchor at Drakes Bay (just south of Point Reyes). Discretion being the better part of valor, we elected to pull into Drakes Bay, dropping the hook at 1630. Had a BBQ salmon dinner, a bottle of wine and a ceremonial glass of Jack Daniels and then hit the sack. On September 6, we upped anchor at (you guessed it) 0600 and motored south toward San Francisco. We arrived at the Golden Gate at about 0930 and had alittle excitement as we tried to avoid an outbound freighter and a racing sailboat going hell-bent-for-election right at us. Managed to sail (drift) under the bridge to the strains of Journey's "Lights of the City" playing on the stereo and then sailed in a building breeze to the Berkeley Marina where we took a berth for the night. We were then visited by that world-famous rock band The Dead Science, who happened to be playing that night in San Francisco (great seeing the boys!). The next day, after saying goodbye to Dean (who flew back to Seattle), we departed Berkeley at 0945 (I guess we're slipping!) and sailed over to the Alameda Estuary where our friends, Jim and Diana Jessie from "Nalu IV" had gotten us a FREE berth at the Oakland Yacht Club. We plan on doing some boat maintenance, getting the autopilot repaired, and then taking the train up to Sacramento to visit family and friends.