I spent five nights in Santa Barbara. The first three days in the marina were spent doing tasks such as reprovisioning, putting on water, laundry, bottom cleaning and zinc anode replacement (Salty Dog Divers), cell phone repair, and oil and oil filter change. Finally, on Tuesday, the day before my departure, I did a little sightseeing. I walked up (and back) to the Mission Santa Barbara and took the self-guided tour.

I departed Santa Barbara on Wednesday, July 18, at 0600 and made my way in a westerly direction to Cojo Anchorage, arriving early in the afternoon at 1340. That is a 41 nm hop up the coast. This is essentially an open roadstead tucked in behind Government Point (just east of Concepcion Point). One has to weave in through the kelp beds to find suitable anchorage off a culvert protruding from under the railroad tracks in about 5 fathoms over hard sand (according to the Coast Pilot).

At one point, soon after leaving Santa Barbara, I went through a massive oil slick. The oil was thick on the water and had a rainbow sheen to it. It had a very strong odor, as well.

I was up early on Thursday, July 19, and had my anchor raised and was under way by 0530. Although the weather forecast called for reasonably mild conditions off Point Concepcion and Point Arguella, I wanted to hedge my bets by getting an early start. It certainly wasn't glass like out there, but for the 20 odd nm it took to round both points, the wind waves and ocean swell were steep and close together, although wind velocity seldom reached 14 knots apparent (wind out of the west and right on my bow). As with most of my traveling up the Mexican and US coasts, I motor sailed with the full main and tacked off 20-30 degrees when necessary to use the wind to help accelerate the boat. The day was actually fairly easy and I saw many dolphins and seals and a few whale.

I arrived in Port San Luis around 1430 and attempted (three times) to secure Anna Marie to one of the port's mooring buoys, but failed miserably due to the 15 knot wind blowing through the mooring field and the slick nature of the mooring cables. I would get ahold of the cable, or hawse, and Anna Marie's bow would veer off in the wind and I would be forced to let go of the slimy thing. Finally in disgust I headed over to the anchorage and set my hook in about 30 feet of water. Should have just done that first, but I had thought I was saving myself some effort to secure to a mooring ball. The anchorage is in between the Cal Poly wharf and the county wharf, off a public swimming beach.

The photo shows what is left of a small sailboat on the beach at Cojo Anchorage. Somebody evidently had some troubles.