It was to be a simple task, move Quality Time from Cabrillo Boatyard in Long Beach (good people, there) to her slip in Redondo Harbor. Taking her there took 3 and half hours, no wind and a favorable 0.5 to 1 knot current.

NOAA said no wind but a 4 foot swell; which of course has its share of 6 footers; no biggie. Towards evening 10 knots forecasted. This was a weather window of 1 day sandwiched between 15 knot winds. The whales are running, so it might be good viewing.

I planned on 5.5 hours return trip, worse case.

Arriving a bit later than I wanted to and for some reason was a bit anxious to get underway. Checked with Don, owner of the Cabrillo yard, and he said all is well and hoped I didn’t mind him tweaking the rig a bit. I refused his offer of a sea trial; I just wanted to sail.

QT was docked with bow towards the the ebbing tide so leaving was a matter of just casting the bow line the waiting a couple minutes. That was a nice going away present from the boat yard crew.

As I said, I was anxious to get going; so opt to set her up while underway. As QT doesn’t have self steering, she’ll circle under power unless in neutral. So put on way, go neutral and prep her for sea. As I made ready I must of looked like those gopher-bop toys; get GPS , popup for looksee, get batteries (Garwin’s just eat batteries like candy), popup, do this, popup, you get the picture. Store fenders, unwrap the main, make fast a halyard, etc. I did forget to check a couple of things.

And because the weather was so benign I kept things in easy reach in cockpit though not stowed securely.

Long Beach harbor seems like its own sea. Took weeks, well an hour, to get to Angel’s Gate. I’ve often wondered on which side are the angels and by implication the demons.

No wind. Confirmed by passing a catamaran who was making 2 knots. So opted to power out a few miles hoping for a bit of breeze to help motor-sail. Besides on the voyage down the inside route was devoid of wild life. Every so often I’d optimistically roll out the jib just to see what she’d do; got up to 3 knots. I needed 5 knots to make land before the evening chill set in.

Another sailboat going north was hugging the shore. We’re keeping pace. He had all sails up, unusual for motoring. So my off shore decision wasn’t looking so optimal.

No critters, just the expected swells with nary a wrinkle on them. Right on the nose.

Around half way, about Point Vicente, saw the first sign of wind. A gust tossed up some popcorn, the little bits of white when a 10 knot wind knocks the tops off a wave. Got excited and set sails. Made 5 knots — for all of 10 minutes or so – then back to motoring. It was just a teaser.

Maybe a grey will show up. Settle for a dolphin, or even a seal.

I noticed the pacing boat was now heading seaward under full sail. The sailor in me took over. Heck, I’ve been land-bound for a month andI was tired of the engine noise. The first tack towards shore didn’t make much VMG even on a very close hauled setup. Pointing that high slows her down below the fun point.

So the new plan was to tack seaward enough so the next tack would clear the point. And the popcorn was better in that direction. A good plan, thinks I. Bonus for boat speed, now around high 5’s. Seas are well behaved, 5 maybe 6 footers. Sails balanced, tiller tied off. QT is holding course unattended. Enjoying a snack and watching for signs of whales. Life be good.

At the appropriate point, I tack, quite nicely, I tell the crew, towards the point. Ah shucks, am a bit short, so decide to trade boat speed to climb higher. A bit later a favorable wind shift. A bit later, same sail settings, 6 plus knots touching on hull speed. I’m also clearing the point by a lot. And she’s heeling. A bit more spray but nothing reaching the beam. A bit more heel than optimal.

The pacing boat has now crossed my course. She’s luffing like they’re making some adjustments. I fly by. Feeling good about it. After all, I’d closed a gap of at least a mile against a fancy new and larger boat.

Now I’m in their wind. It has grown. Lee rail kissing the sea. I debate with the crew (as I’m alone, the crew didn’t argue well) about shortening sail. The point isn’t that far, and we reason the apparent wind will drop once we turn. Never mind the adage about reefing when the thought first creeps in.

15 minutes later we try to turn; she won’t. Even with the traveler so far down that only a couple trailing feet of mainsail holds shape; she won’t turn. The crew was right, it’s past time to shorten. I’m concerned.

I check the rigging, nothing fouled and I notice that Cabrillo did a great job adjusting the stays. Thanks Don. Glad I doubly secured the new halyard.

The waves have turned to full white caps; height hasn’t changed, but 5 to 10 feet of water is curling off. Hmmm, get out the hand held anemometer; 18 knots apparent. I turn on WX1 for the weather; it still says variable 10 knots with reports from Santa Monica buoy agreeing and Hermosa claims 5 knots. Obviously a different world, wonder what they’re smoking.

Furling the jib turns out to be beyond my strength – is it fouled? No. Even with it flapping like a flag it won’t budge. But the 10 foot barber line fouled the jib sheet like a Gordian Knot. Not supposed to use the winch, but its the only way. 10 to 1 winch, 2 inches at a time. Finally down to half the area. Amazingly, as I haven’t experienced it before, QT held a decent hove to on main alone. Catalina did a great job.

The wind feels stronger.

It is time to tackle the main. I’ve reefed before, but always with a crew, and not brilliantly. This time was an exception all went as planned. Almost too easy.

She can turn! I look back at the pacing boat. He’s way back and still under full sail. He’s either leisurely sailing to Malibu or hasn’t figured out that he needs to reef. Decide not to radio him, need to concentrate on my situation.

The seas are on the beam. QT is loving it; fully under control, hitting 7.2 knots! Harbor is in sight.

The wind feels stronger, a lot more than18. Thinking about a second reef.

About 2 miles out decide to entirely furl the jib. Under reefed main she’s touching 6 plus knots. NOAA still saying its an easy day.

There is a sailboat at the harbor mouth just milling around. I’m half a mile off closing fast. Don’t understand why she just doesn’t pop in; is the wind that adverse there? Should I start the engine? No, can’t start engine until in harbor or the heel might leave her sucking air. So I wait, a bit anxious.

When mom nature wants a laugh she throws water. Bam, I’m soaked. Even my shoes are filled up. Just a teaspoon of love from stem to stern. It’s going to get cold. Nothing to do about it now with the harbor and rocks and all. A second soaking. The books say steer around them breakers; yeah, right. There wasn’t any warning and I was watching when the next hit.

Into the harbor. The harbor patrol comes up, mentions twenty something, wind just blows words away. They hand signal if help is needed. I say not, as I’ve done this a million times. Apparently the milling boat had asked for help getting to their slip. Not I. I regretted that arrogance a bit later.

I motor a bit further in and closer to the wall then usual. Drop main. Secure it. Naturally she drifts a bit. This was a bit more. By time I’m back in the cockpit she was moving 5 knots heading out of the marina. Just another hundred yards or so she’d out to sea or on rocks. But first need to steer clear of the bait barge, a few buoys, and then the tug. Moving at 5 knots you’ve plenty of control, so no problem, then just a bit of throttle and a turn.

And of course, the dreaded air lock. Sure glad the new engine is self priming. A long 20 seconds later she fires up. Would not have liked to dock under jib alone. Might have to take up the patrol’s offer. Now for the slip.

Harbor master is flying small craft warning. NOAA still hasn’t got the word.

I’m expecting to glide, as usual, into the slip. The approach is minimal throttle in neutral with, if needed, big S turns to slow down. 0.8 is a good speed to enter the slip – as she’ll stop herself if she kisses the dock without a mar. This time she turns and gets promptly blown a bit past with her nose just in the slip. Power up; slip and slid in. Done. What, she’s blowing out of the slip. Power up again. Grab a line, reach down, loop around a dock cleat – any will do. Spend the next few minutes man-handling her into a comfy spot.

Now done, except for changing clothes – yes a 20 knot breeze in a sheltered marina at sunset is freaking cold. Then attend to QT’s needs while listing to the wind woo-woo’ing.

All in all, an interesting sail, though exhausting.

Oh, the whales took a near shore passage this time. The 5.5 hour plan took 7.5 hours.

Next day I check for damage. The ocean had sanded the registry tag off the starboard bow and the port one wasn’t in good shape. the barber block’s innards had disappeared, breaking strength 1500 lbs, just from a little flapping. Surprisingly no mars on the hull.

One other thing, on the scale of wind, this was just a little finger exercise, very humbling.