Friday, 21 October 2011

island magic

Enjoying our morning coffee as we head out

Mending the American
flag
When we left San Miguel for Santa Cruz Island, the sky was overcast. Soon, the sun poked its head, and it became more festive on Nyon. The wind direction was not great, it was on the nose. Again. But we rallied and chose to sail, (if you haven’t guessed yet, we really hate motoring). We had to tack, and tack again, and again. It felt good. All of a sudden, I saw what I first thought were dolphins. But something wasn’t quite right. I got the binoculars out, and realized it was a “group” of sea lions swimming, fast. Not only that, they were leaping out of the water over and over! And there were many of them. (Yes, I am rather fascinated by sea lions. I have been reading up on them. They’re pretty cool!) The wind ultimately backed to a good heading, and our course took a more direct line to Prisoner’s Harbor, our next anchorage.


Sailing! Yes
Highlights on the way to Santa Cruz Island:
  • Watching leaping sea lions swimming in formation while we were under sail
  • Eating sandwiches and grapes, sitting on the cabin top, the sails full and the sun shining brightly
  • Yeah, we're goofy

  • Listening to old favourites, while discussing our top 5 albums, (for their cohesiveness and individually brilliant songs). Yep, we’re nerds
Highlights at Anchor:
  • Preparing Chorizo and mushroom pasta, while drinking red wine and listening to the “Big Night” soundtrack (from a gem of a movie). Just for a while, I can pretend I’m a sassy Italian in the galley.
  • Eating dinner by candlelight in Prisoner’s Harbor, where pelicans dive loudly and sea lions swim by, their heavy breath echoing on the water
  • The land breeze sending the spicy scent of eucalyptus trees wafting over us as we sat in the cockpit after dinner
  • Small fish darting about, sometimes breaking the surface of the water; at first, we just heard them. Plop, plop, plop. In the dark, we could see their bio-luminescent trails: Squiggly tracks of light filled the dark waters. It was like underwater fireworks. We took breaks only to look up at the stars, the Milky Way prominently displayed amidst a thick carpet of stars. That’s what I call a magical night. (Rick says I’m being cheesy, but really, there is no other way to describe it.)
We loved the Channel Islands. We would have liked to explore them for a while longer, but I have to admit, the call of the south was louder.

Prisoner's Harbor

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