Never Leave Port on a Friday

I had decided the previous night that the weather looked good for Friday morning so it was time to head for Monterey.  This would be a long full day trip, and I wanted to arrive in Monterey during daylight, so I arose at 4:30am, just like two days previously in San Francisco.   By 5:45am, just as the sun was rising, we were departing Half Moon Bay with the fishing fleet. 

Half Moon Bay As Seen From the Mast Head of Astraea

Leaving port on Friday is bad luck in the mind of most experienced sailors.  This superstition is thought to spring from the crucifixion of Christ on Good Friday. Doubters would believe the career mariner would like an extra day in port.  Legend says the British navy fought this superstition to the point that they laid the keel of a warship on a Friday, launched the vessel on another Friday, named the craft MHS Friday, and sailed it out of port for the first time on Friday.  As one would suspect, it never made it back to harbor again.

Well, here it was Friday and I was leaving port.  The wind was from the North West, and as with previous trips out of Half Moon Bay, I found it best to clear the channel and get well away from the shoals and rocks before raising the sails.  This was particularly important as I was alone.  With the AutoHelm steering I went forward to raise the main, grabbed the main halyard, and began to hoist the main sail.  The main would not budge.  Now this made no sense, as I had spray lubed the slides on the sail the evening before.  I stepped back and studied the line from the head of the main sail up to the top of the mast and then I saw the problem… the main halyard (the “rope” used to hoist the main) was fouled – wrapped around one of the new radar reflectors that Svendsens had installed at the top of the mast on each of the two top shrouds.  There is a spare halyard on the main mast, however I did not think it prudent to go to sea with one of the two main halyards totally fouled, so I made the decision to return to Half Moon Bay and fix the problem in the safety of the harbor. 

Another first was in store.  I had to climb the mast to the very top, some 56 feet up, to unfoul the line.  Some time ago I had bought this neat little contraption called a “Top Climber” that is similar to a mountain climber’s gear and allows one to climb the mast alone by alternately standing on foot straps, moving up a slider above one’s head that is connected to a seating platform, then sliding up the foot straps, standing, moving the upper slide, etc.  Think of one of those cartoons of an inch worm crawling along with the back pushing up and then the front pulling forward.  This is remarkably like the “Top Climber”.

 

Looking Down from the Mast Head

I began the 50 foot climb at about six inches at a time, alternately standing on the foot straps, pushing up the main straps, and repeating the process about 100 times as I climbed the mast.  Taking it slowly and easily I was able to get to the top in about 20 minutes.

  

The trip down was like the trip up, only in reverse.  Six inches at a time coming down a 50 foot mast.  However I did take advantage of the opportunity to lubricate the entire main sail slide from the top of the mast down to the boom.  I also was able to inspect all the rigging.  All in all it was a worthwhile effort, and also I now had the primary main halyard running free. 

 

Now I had been up since 4:30am, prepared Astraea to go to sea, raised the anchor, gotten underway, returned to port, reanchored, and climbed the mast.  It was not yet 10am.  I decided on another first, a trip in the new dinghy and an operational test of the new 12V electric pump for inflating the dinghy.  Soon the dinghy was inflated, in the water, and my vintage Johnson Seahorse 6hp outboard mounted.  Now this engine was manufactured in 1973 and definitely falls into the “vintage” category.  Also, I had not used the engine for about eight months.  We were anchored at least a half mile from the marina.  In the best tradition of a true naval officer, which means have a Plan B, I mounted the oars to the dinghy along with the engine and we headed ashore.  

This was another first for me, riding my dinghy from an anchorage into a marina.  The only reason I was doing this was to test out the dinghy and the outboard, but I had also decided to have lunch ashore.  After a great Fish and Chips lunch it was back to Astraea via the dinghy.  After about an hour of squaring away the boat, I decided to attempt to take a short nap and head for Monterey in the late afternoon, sail all night, and arrive in Monterey the next morning.  I had still not realized it was Friday. 

Now, in theory, this was a totally logical plan.  However add to this that I had been up since 4:30 that morning and it would be a long, 89 mile sail down the coast, at night.  However in the true gung ho tradition of the Navy we were off as the sun was setting. 

 

It was a very, very, very long night.  It was cold.  Very cold.  It rained.  It rained all night.  (NOAA had forecast a slight chance of showers – so much for NOAA).  There was no wind.  It was totally overcast, foggy, and there was no moon and no stars.  Just dark.  And cold.  And rain.  Also, I had been up since 4:30am.  It was a very, very long night.  A Friday night.  There may be something to these ancient superstitions!