It came time to leave Santa Barbara behind. I'd enjoyed a couple of good visits with my college classmate, Scott Orlosky, and his family, socialized with locals and other cruisers in the lovely Santa Barbara Yacht Club standing proudly on its beachhead on the Pacific, and foraged among the town's grocery stores and restaurants.

Kevin loaned me his son, Zach, for crew, since Jim had returned to Seattle, and he came aboard while I was topping up the fuel tanks. Zach is a budding sailing enthusiast and picks up the fine points with amazing speed. I rarely have to tell him how to do things twice and sometimes I don't have to tell him at all. He never hesitates to take up any task. On top of all that, he's one of the nicest people on the planet and a pleasure to have aboard.

As is usual, we started out motor sailing, but it wasn't long before the wind piped up enough to set the genny and shut down the engine. I suppose I was inspired by Zach's presence to show off a bit, so we set even more sails, hoisting the staysail and even the rarely used mule that flies above the main. Eventually the genny was replaced by the gennaker and we ended up with 18 knot winds and a romping reach toward the east end of Santa Cruz Island.

There'd been some discussion about the best anchorage for the predicted winds. With both Friday and Andante ahead of me, I had a good scouting party. Jared and Amanda in Friday scoped out Little Scorpion while Kevin and Susan in Andante did the same for Smugglers Cove. Jared recommended Little Scorpion, but it was probably too small for the three of us and Smugglers looked good to Kevin, so I opted for space and went around the corner to join him.

My previous experience there some twelve years ago with a long, bumpy night hadn't made me optimistic about the place, but I'd learned a little since then. The bay is expansive and well protected from the coming northwester, so we settled in for the night.