Traveling the Song Line

Sunday December 11

I am growing to respect and love Song Line the more time I spend with her. Is that an odd thing to say? She has done everything I have asked of her and more. She has taken care of me when my ignorance showed, and has kept me safe. She continues to surprise me.

Case in point, departure from Ensenada. I got out of the harbor into the bay, where the seas were a bit boisterous and mostly on the starboard side. I was motoring, but felt a bit like I was riding a mechanical bull. All the stuff I thought carefully stowed below came flying out and went crashing about. I will get this right one day. I shot a bit of video I will see about posting. Yet I never worried for my safety or the vessel. For her, it's just another day. She's a sound, solid boat.

You have seen me post, "fair winds and following seas." It's no joke. As soon as I got out of the bay and turned left, the swell was behind me, following. Everything slowed down and gentled. I will admit it is disconcerting when a big wave comes creeping up behind you and stares you in the eye from a few feet behind the boat. A wall of water six feet tall can be intimidating. Then it sinks down and slips gently under you. Not that damn slap crash you get when it comes at an angle.

I got the headsail up, and Song Line smiled. I swear I could sense it. She hunched down, dug a shoulder into the water, and took off. She was happy, steadier, and her speed climbed to about seven knots, which is higher than her theoretical hull speed. Currents can be wonderful.

She has been steadily barreling along since then, just putting the miles behind her. Our first 24 hours we made 129 miles. Very respectable. I am, on my good days, a mediocre sailor at best. I'm lazy. I have bad habits. I am content to accept good enough. I will get out there, I will give it a good shot, and I will get there. I am smart enough to have decent equipment and good plans, and I enjoy myself. I will admit that I motored most of the way from SF to Ensenada, for reasons that sounded worthy at the time. Maybe I just had to build some confidence and use up my excuses. It is not an option for the rest of the trip. Conditions are good, and I couldn't carry enough diesel for the trip .

Thankfully, Song Line loves to sail, does it well, and is tolerant and forgiving of me. I have made several dumb mistakes along the way, and she has helped me recover. We are over half way from San Francisco to Puerto Vallarta and still going strong. We have sailed almost all the way from Ensenada. I love my boat. We're a good match.

I am about 250 miles south of Ensenada, getting close to Turtle Bay, my first potential stopping place. My first night out from Ensenada, it was cold. I was cold, bundled up in most of my warm stuff, and it wasn't much better than Northern California. Sorry, guys, but I am really tired of cold. I want T-shirts, shorts, and sandals. Anything with long sleeves should be sun or bug protection.

I'm not there yet. I reconfirmed my slip in Puerto Vallarta. They have a traditional beach party on Christmas Day, where they take pictures and send them to friends and relatives. I am so ready to be there there. My 64th is in a couple of weeks, and I want to stick my toes into the sand and surf without them turning blue. I did find squid on deck this morning, a promising sign, but it doesn't feel any warmer yet.

I have considered myself a bona fide holder of the turn left dream for some time. It goes something like this. Start in San Francisco. Unwrap a stick of butter and put it on a plate in the galley. Head out under the Golden Gate, turn left, and keep going. You have arrived when you can see palm trees and the butter melts.

That damned butter is a hard as a rock. I'm not there yet.