Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Well, so much for second chances. As it turned out our third night in Santa Barbara’s anchorage would be our last. Another sleepless and bouncy night made our decision easy so we hauled up anchor, setting our course for Prisoners Harbor on Santa Cruz Island. We had a few things to take care of before making the crossing, but we were well stocked up on food and supplies thanks to our trip to shore the previous day.

We made our way past the end of Stearns Wharf, zigzagging to get around the big sand bank at the end of the breakwater. We were headed to the fuel dock to fill up on water and pump out our holding tank, we wanted to be able to stay anchored out for as long as possible, hopefully until the kids’ next visit.

In his usual fashion when approaching an unfamiliar dock, Charles did a drive-by, motoring past the dock slowly, then coming around and getting a second look as we circled to complete the loop. Well now, this was going to be interesting…, picture an L-shaped dock with the pumpout located in the corner of the L, where the two docks come together. Now picture Magick Express, all 62 feet of her, with her pumpout located amidships, so about 30 feet from either end of the boat, and we could tell, even before docking, that the hose for the Santa Barbara Marina pumpout was nowhere near 30 feet long.

With our fingers crossed we tied up in our usual fashion and I got on the dock and began readying the pump-out from the dock end, unlooping the big hose from its storage cradle and stretching it along-side our hull, back, back, back towards our holding tank outlet, but clearly, there was no way it was going to reach.

Not to be thwarted, my engineer husband began to engineer. With me on the dock doing a masterful job (😏) managing the dock-lines, Charles maneuvered Magick Express back towards the pumpout, swinging her stern out to starboard so as to clear the end of the short dock, and placing her bow up close to the midpoint of the long dock where I cleated it. Our stern line had been loosened to allow the stern to swing, and I secured it once we were in position. We were tied up diagonally, our bow mid-point on the long dock and our stern beside the end of the short dock, and…, halleluiah! It worked! Charles tossed me a line to secure around the pumpout hose and he hauled it aboard. A full holding tank would have very certainly derailed our Channel Islands plans.

As we left Santa Barbara Harbor our spirits were high, our water tanks were full, and our holding tank was empty. All was as it should be and it seemed as though our lives had turned a corner. We felt empowered, we were changing our uncomfortable circumstance by moving elsewhere, somewhere better. We had overcome a hurdle and we were on our way back out, the magnificence and solitude of the islands our reward for persevering. Adventure awaited us, we just knew it, and we couldn’t wait to get out there and see what the Channel Islands had in store for us.

 With Santa Barbara behind us we had a lovely sail south towards Santa Cruz Island, the hulking structures of seven oil platforms lining the coast, each one appearing smaller and smaller stretching into the distance. The smell of crude oil filled the air conjuring images of oil spills and industry, the rest of our senses at odds as we gazed at remote wilderness and vast ocean, with water and wind the only sound.

As we sail on, the shipping lanes behind us now, Santa Cruz Island has transformed. The once small and indistinct shape on the horizon has been rising gradually, imperceptibly, the features beginning to sharpen, the landmass looms and our excitement swells. These islands look feral…, ancient and raw…, prehistoric. You can’t help but feel a twinge, elation, anticipation, trepidation, you are there, in the moment, humble, small, thankful.

Then, off the starboard side, a flash of movement followed by a splash, then another, and another. Dolphins! About 20 or 30 at first, with more appearing by the second, there had to be at least 100! While the vast majority of the pod continued on their way, a group of about 15 or 20 peeled off, heading straight for us. Magick Express was switched to auto-pilot and Charles and I both headed excitedly to the bow, the dolphins speedily porpoising towards us, their exuberant leaps mirroring our own exhilaration.

Charles climbed out to perch over the anchor, wedging himself between the headstay and railing, filming as they jockeyed for prime positions in our bow wake (video ‘Dolphins on the way to Santa Cruz Island‘). Meanwhile, I sat on deck snapping photos without looking through the view finder, not wanting to miss a moment.

They stayed with us for about 15 minutes, effortlessly gliding, keeping pace with Magick Express, before suddenly banking left in the direction of the rest of their pod, and they were gone. This was the stuff of dreams. We had encountered dolphins before but the interactions had been minimal. We have watched as countless others experienced bow riding dolphins, but it was finally happening to us! The fortuitous meeting, paths crossing, two worlds joining for this moment, resulting in an encounter of pure joy for all involved. There truly are no words.

With full-to-bursting hearts we set our anchor as we reflected, amazed at what we had just experienced. The encounter left us in speechless, jubilant awe. We hoped this would bode well for Charles’ upcoming 4pm interview call. We had purposefully anchored in a spot with good reception, driving in circles around the anchorage, keenly watching the fluctuating signal strength and dropping our anchor to position us where it was strongest.

Once settled, Charles began preparing for his interview, only to discover that we had lost the connection. With not enough time to re-anchor, he switched gears taking my phone, putting it in a bag secured to a line and raised it 70ft up the mast where, crisis averted, it found a signal! With his interview minutes away we had little time to celebrate but we were able to at least breathe, our jubilance oppressed by the weight of importance, there was a lot resting on this interview, our lives hung in the balance.

Thankfully the interview went well and we celebrated when it was over, spending the next few hours in our hammocks, getting out briefly for a dinner of fake crab salad, before climbing back in after sunset to stargaze. The night was clear and moonless providing the blackest of backdrops as the sky filled with pinpricks of light. It was perfect. The stars were brilliant, resplendent, the milky way arcing above us, gossamer collecting tiny starbursts like glitter, and then, a streak of light, a shooting star. The perfect fairy-book ending to a spectacular day and we hadn’t even made it to shore yet. Our introduction to Santa Cruz Island was off to an amazing start. We could only imagine what the next day would bring.

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