The various faces of the deceptive "Santa Ana"
"We're heading back to Ventura. The Santa Anas are supposed to get a bit nasty," said the fisherman.
Better not tell Ed, I thought. He was worried enough already.
The Santa Ana winds are dry, gusty winds that blow from the land in the fall and winter in southern California. It means beach weather to some, or fire danger to others. To sailors, it means stay away from the islands.
The backside of Santa Barbara Island, where vessels go in case of Santa Ana winds
In a matter of 15 minutes, the winds can transform a calm, blissful day into a very dangerous mess. Most anchorages provide shelter from the predominant North-West wind; during a Santa Ana event, windswell and gale force winds can rise up from the opposite direction, the East, pushing boats into shore. The results can be catastrophic.
"Maybe we should head to Long Beach," Ed argued when we heard the forecast. A reasonable idea.
"Maybe we should head to Long Beach," Ed argued when we heard the forecast. A reasonable idea.
"Heck, let's wait for it and sail downwind to San Nicolas," said Bob. My dad is the opposite to Ed -- he likes to ride the 'edge' whenever possible.
The crew, when we're not listening to the weather radio
After listening to the monotonic NOAA forecast for the twentieth time, we decided that staying in Santa Barbara Island made sense. We spent an anxious night with mild East winds threatening to strengthen at any moment. In the morning, we went to the backside of the island to seek shelter, but the groundswell was intense.
So we pointed the ship towards Catalina, 26 nautical miles away. The head wind slowly dissipated into a calm. We went to the best refuge anchorage, a place ominously called "Ironbound Cove". Steep cliffs surrounded us in a horseshoe bay with deep water.
Nobody was nearby. On the horizon, yatch after yatch went by in a procession. They were headed for Catalina Harbor. Were they indifferent and foolish, or were we excessively cautious?
Hunkered down at Ironbound Cove...
At 8:39pm the wind began to howl. The rigging shook and water splashed the hull of the boat. Our anchor held and the boat was steady. During the dawn hours, the wind relaxed. Is it over, I wondered?
Then in the morning, it raged again with 25kt gusts. Our enclosed cockpit felt like a cozy greenhouse, while the breeze whipped outside. Finally it subsided around 11:30am. We were eager to get going, and leave "Ironbound".
Smooth water in Cat Harbor. Note the haze of the Santa Ana dust in the distance.
We pulled into Catalina Harbor past noon on Saturday. The moorings were jam-packed with boats. We felt sure we would have to anchor far away. But luckily, it was a case of "late bird gets the worm"…!
The harbor patrol sent us directly to the front of the line, since our trimaran only drafts 4 feet of water. During low tide, the keel rested gently on the mud. The water was flat as a lake, and the dock was a 2 minute kayak ride away.
We felt that peculiar combination of exhaustion and excitement: when apprehension melts away to relief, and good fortune comes in spades. The first part of our journey was done.
Day 5-6: Passage from Santa Barbara island to Catalina, 25nm to Cat Harbor via Ironbound Cove
Sources:
CS Monitor
LA Times blogs
Weatherbug.com
Surfine.com
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