Mid October 2021 Morro Bay, California

It was the Friday before the October long weekend (Indigenous Peoples’ Day, formerly known as Columbus Day) and Charles and I had a long day ahead of us. We were headed to Oakland to pick up the kids and would be taking care of a trail of unfinished business along the way. In spite of the morning fog, the mood was upbeat, we were excited, the kids were coming and this would be our first time on the boat as a family outside of San Francisco Bay. For Charles it would finally be a peek at the elusive prize, his dream of having his family aboard and experiencing places together was finally being realized. It may seem like a very small step, but to those who know us and are familiar with our situation, well…, this was pretty big.

So as we headed out that morning we had butterflies of excitement in our guts. We were off on a road trip adventure, we couldn’t wait to see the kids, we would be tying up our final loose ends, and we were returning to a place that was getting further and further behind. This trip would be a nice reminder of just how far we had managed to come.

Our first stop was a quick jaunt 20 miles up the highway to Atascadero for some ordered parts that had come in. From there we made our way north up the eastern side of Big Sur along Highway 101, keeping our fingers crossed that we would see the magnificent soaring and spiraling shapes of California condors (Gymnogyps californianus) catching the thermals over the coastal range. This species was on the brink of extinction with all remaining wild individuals (27 in total) captured in 1987 and sent to the San Diego and Los Angeles Zoos. Their effective breeding program saw condors being returned to the wild in 1991 with regular releases occurring since then, returning the massive birds to their once extensive range.

But alas, it was not our day, no condor sightings on this trip, onward with our mission! We headed west into Monterey to revisit the boatyard and pick up our line cutter which had finally arrived, and then aimed north again, our sights set on Alameda, our home for the past few years.

In Alameda we visited some of our old haunts, the second-hand store had sold some of our former housewares and had a cheque for us, and Charles’ happy place, Blue Pelican Marine Consignment had also sold some of our things. For once we had some money trickling in.

With all of our chores accomplished and not having permission to get the kids before 6pm, we had a few hours to kill. We did a little drive over to our former marina for a last look and then headed for a shady spot to nap and read until pickup time.

The trip back to the boat with the kids was considerably shorter and faster, our only stops were to grab drive-thru for dinner and then a rest stop break near Camp Roberts to stretch our legs and take in the night sky along one of the darkest stretches in California.

By 11:30pm we had arrived back in Morro Bay, parked, and were headed by dinghy to Magick Express. Our long day was done and the kids were on board. We were all ready for sleep.

The next day we hit the ground running, doing a dinghy ride down the estuary and back and walking Embarcadero, the main little tourist street. We looked through some of the shops, the kids itching to spend the allowances burning holes in their pockets.

And then they saw it, a sign in the window of Carousel Taffy offering free Salt-Water Taffy to anyone who could eat one of every flavour in less than an hour, the kids were agape, transfixed.

With one kid being a self-described evil schemer and the other being an out-and-out fan of sugar in all of its forms, the poor shop owner didn’t stand a chance. They convinced him to let the two of them act as one person (there is some suspicion, ahem…, speculation regarding the validity/reality of this agreement) and they set about collecting one of each flavour, over 150 of them, getting them weighed in case they didn’t finish, finding an appropriate bench outside on which to set up their endeavour, and finally, dividing up the flavours and agreeing that the eldest would eat the booze flavours and the youngest would eat the hot ones.

With the negotiations complete and an agreement in place, thus began The Great Salt Water Taffy Ingestion of 2021. Unwrapping and chewing, unwrapping and chewing, sheer sugary bliss radiating from their faces, identifying flavours with the seriousness of wine tasters, their pace was quick, their candy piles were large, and they could feel the urgency of time ticking.

At the 20 minute mark the tempo had slowed, the smiles and chatter had lessened but the monotonous identification of flavours continued minus any further critique or qualifier, the flavours just were. Fried chicken and waffles, strawberry cheesecake, peanut butter cup, dill pickle, dulce de leche, you name it, I am pretty sure they had it. By 35 minutes, their taffy piles were still considerable and it was clear that both would be admitting defeat. With tails tucked and the aforementioned allowances in hand they made their way back in to the shop to pay for their considerable haul of taffy.

The owner of the shop looked puzzled when they explained that they hadn’t been able to finish and it became clear that there had been a miscommunication. As the kids put their money on the counter he told them to keep it. He said that they had absolutely made his day. So if you are ever in Morro Bay, California and find yourself at Carousel Taffy, make sure you stop in and get some. Or try the challenge yourself if you are a taffy fan! We know from experience the owners are great!

To counteract the effects of the GSWTI-2021, we had a huge Greek salad for dinner, that was then further counteracted by the brownie bake-off that the sugar-fiend child had challenged me to weeks earlier. We had picked him up complete with fresh-baked brownies and I had made mine that morning before going ashore, unaware of the impending taffy frenzy. Needless to say, the brownie pieces were small and neither child complained, the latent effects of their afternoon escapade still coursing through their veins.

The next morning was a ‘Kid Sunday!’ which always means waffles. This has been a tradition on the boat since day one and pre-dates my arrival by several years. Every Sunday morning that the kids are on board Charles makes waffles. As each flower-shaped waffle comes off the waffle maker it is frisbeed across the room to the next person in the rotation. If you are paying attention you stand a chance of catching most of your waffle, the five petal sections shattering apart on impact like shrapnel. If not paying attention, you get smacked with a waffle and a scavenger hunt for the pieces. For obvious reasons, syrup is applied after the toss-and-gather portion of the ritual.

With our bellies full of waffles, dust-bunnies, and syrup (except for Jo Jo who prefers cream cheese) we dinghied to shore, the kids in their wetsuits, boogie boards in hand. We headed across to the other side of Morro Rock to the big sandy surfing beach and the kids spent a few hours boogie boarding (video), Charles taking photos and video and giving advice, while I walked the beach looking for any spoils the ocean may have been parting with, bones, shells, rocks, and any squishy-blobby things in need of being returned to their preferred environment.

Later that afternoon Charles installed our new solar panels that had arrived at the Morro Bay Yacht Club (YAAAAYYYY!!!!! It will mean way less running of the engine!) and we had a relaxing evening, the kids tired from their beach day and Charles and I gearing up for tomorrow when we would have another very long day returning the kids to their Oakland home by 6pm and then making our way back to Morro Bay and the boat. Our next visit with the kids would be at Thanksgiving and we were waiting to hear if we could fly them to Long Beach and sail them to Catalina. It seemed unimaginable but we were keeping our fingers crossed.

The following day, after our second round-trip drive to Oakland in four days, we awoke to some fantastic news, our new dinghy was finally being delivered! She was months and months overdue, caught in the backlog of freighters waiting to be unloaded at the Port of Los Angeles/Long Beach. We refer to her as our ‘forever dinghy’ but named her Hammock Express and she was ordered 3 months before our financial world went sideways with lawyer bills and mast repairs. We were only able to afford her thanks to a small inheritance that my aunt June left me when she passed away, but we thought it would be a fitting tribute to a woman who loved travel and who helped to spark my passion for the same.

As a passenger, Hammock Express had arrived at our western shore in August where her transport vessel drifted with countless others as they awaited their turn to be unloaded. In October she was finally removed from the freighter and transported inland by truck to a large triage/sorting facility. After many emails and calls and false starts, and much backing-and-forthing between Charles and those that held our dinghy, we were finally hearing that she was on her way and would arrive later that morning.

Charles sprang into action, our lazy morning evaporating, he had to notify the yacht club as they had said we could use their yard to receive it. With logistics in place Charles grabbed the tools we would need for uncrating and we headed to shore to meet the newest member of our family.

There were mixed emotions as we took our old dinghy to meet our new one. On the one hand, we were very excited that the wait was finally over and Charles could cross a big thing off his substantial list, we were relieved that our old dinghy had made it limping and gasping across the elusive finish line and that we wouldn’t need to put more time or effort into keeping her afloat, not to mention Charles wouldn’t need to pump it up before every trip anymore. But there was a bit of sadness too, the aged and loyal steed was being retired and replaced by a younger more reliable version and it tugged at our heartstrings. We vowed to find a worthy and loving home.

The uncrating went quickly thanks to the screwdriver attachment on the drill. We wound up using a parking space on the street at the entrance to the yacht club which gave us good access to their dock ramp when the time came to launch. Charles had arranged to leave the nice New Zealand plywood at the club for anyone who needed it so we made sure to remove all of the screws and stacked it neatly with other similar materials in their yard.

And just like that a sizeable source of our stress was gone. We now had a reliable dinghy and the peace of mind was immeasurable. Between that and the new solar panels (also thanks to June), it felt like we were finally climbing out and starting to make some headway, the solar panels alone would pay for themselves quickly. Our visit with the kids had gone really well and they were excited for us to keep heading south, the thought of warm clear water and sunny weather painting blissful and exotic imaginings. We know exactly how they feel, it is what keeps us going.

With the kid’s visit over and the new dinghy safely in its spot on board, it was time to start thinking about moving on. We had one week left of our month of anchoring at Morro Bay so we began to look for weather windows, shifting our focus towards preparing for passage and stocking the boat with provisions. We were hoping to visit one of the most remote and uninhabited spots in California with a reputation for bad weather and stormy seas, San Miguel Island was on our wish-list if conditions made it possible. Either way, in a week we would pass Point Conception, officially crossing into Southern California, the land of sunshine, surfing, and palm trees! Both of us were ready to move on, the longing for adventure, sunny days, and warm, clear water could be put-off no longer.