As I bob at anchor here in Cabo San Lucas, I look back on the journey from San Francisco. Here’s what I’ve learned along the way.
- I prefer a relaxed pace. I took three weeks going from Ensenada to Cabo San Lucas. And could have taken longer. Can’t imagine doing it in 10 days like the Baja Haha—that seems brutal, not enjoyable. I was initially sad to miss the Haha, but in hindsight I think it worked out better this way.
- Crew fit is everything. It can be like going from zero to married with a complete stranger. Making it work is a delicate dance of tolerance, communication, easy-going, and graciousness. The right (or wrong!) crew can make or break the journey. Having said that, finding able and willing folks with the time and space in their lives for voyaging is an ongoing challenge.
- Tending to the boat is more time consuming and fatiguing than I’d anticipated. While under way, big chunks of time go to making sure the boat is happy, sailing well, staying energy-positive, monitoring resource consumption, logging, checking weather, washing dishes, managing the toilet, keeping up with maintenance and chores, etc.
- I thought I’d be more productive during down time. But I’m finding that I’m content to view the scenery and allow the time to pass. The water is endlessly fascinating and mesmerizing to watch. What’s below the surface? How long would it take a stone to reach the bottom? How many water molecules are in the ocean?
- Generally, things have been smooth. The boat, major systems, and preparations have all performed well.
- It’s as challenging and rewarding as I’d hoped.
- It’s harder to think of creative solutions to problems when tired.
- The experience is helping me learn to trust my instincts more: when a prospective crew member will (or will not) be a good fit; when the rig / a sail / a line is stressed in an unfortunate way; when something doesn’t seem “right.”
- Only actually setting off gives real clarity about what’s needed, what’s important. Books, articles, web sites, and forums will only get you so far. And that’s ok.
- Sailing in light winds in the presence of swell—especially downwind—is an ongoing learning process. There are certain combinations of wind speeds and swell heights that make using the drifter sail not viable. As the boat rolls, it’ll deflate, snap, deflate, snap. I’m beginning to think some flavor of spinnaker is necessary.
- Self-steering is crucial for a short-handed crew. I use both autopilot and the Monitor self-steering vane extensively. Each has its strengths and weaknesses.
- Shock loads are the enemy. When sails “snap” it’s not good. Lost the mainsail clew shackle this way.
- Everything loves to get tangled up or fouled with everything else! Endless time spent untangling lines, running sheets and lines with fair leads (and re-rerunning when you realize it ended up on the wrong side of X), trapping the forward jackline in the jerry can tie-down strap, tethers ending up between your legs, etc.
- Cruising guides are a valuable resource. I wish they contained more detailed information, like GPS coordinates of dinghy docks.
- The wind has a sense of humor: too much when you don’t want it, and not enough when you do.