“Dave a little help?!!”
A shout from the cockpit woke me from my slumber. Shocked and disoriented, I peeled myself up from the damp salon seating area that served as my sleeping refuge. Still in my foulies, I was able to spring up quickly to jam on my shoes and rush to the cockpit. To my dismay, I saw Tyler thrashing to and fro, sprawled out on the boom trying to hold the Main in place, and temper the boom’s erratic movement as much as possible.

“Keep your head low!” he shouted, “I need you to go forward and bring down the Main, we lost the outhaul!”
The boat continued to thrash like a bucking bronco as I made my way up the companionway stairs. Still disoriented, I assessed the situation. Tyler continued to shout at me, “do it now!”

I quickly tethered myself to the jack-lines that had been carefully installed before leaving dock (thanks Landon!), then I awkwardly danced my way forward, past the diesel jerry-cans that were tethered to the grab rail, up to the mast where I dropped the Main as controlled and as quickly as I could. Tyler continued his desperate attempt to keep me as safe as possible by taming the wild bucking boom. As soon as the Main came down, Tyler and I struggled to tie the Main to the boom.
With the Main under control, I — exhausted from bringing it in, as well as my previous 3 hour shift at the helm in near-zero visibility — returned to the comfort of the salon seating area knowing that my competent co-crew would keep me safe.

Main without an outhaul image credit: Dave Cocca

Let me rewind a bit. On Sunday, September 16, I made sure that my legal will was up to date (seriously) and my finances were in order. I kissed my wife Pam goodbye as I embarked on the sailing trip of a lifetime. After numerous trips “beyond the gate” to Half Moon Bay and night sails with David P. and Patrick T. (Spinnaker instructors), I fell in love with the idea of sailing down the coast of California. When presented with the opportunity to sail up the coast (heading north), I could not possibly pass this up. I did a fair amount of research about sailing up California’s gnarly coast, specifically Point Conception and Big Sur. It is a challenging and potentially dangerous sail, so how could I possibly say no?

I met up with Landon Gottlieb (Spinnaker instructor, USCG 50 Ton Master Captain, and friend) and Tyler (new friend and experience sailer) to deliver a 42 foot Catalina sailboat from Marina Del Rey (LA) to Santa Cruz. We filled up a rental minivan with tons of sailing gear, and headed south down the 101 and I-5 to Marina Del Rey for what would become a 6-day sailing adventure.

The crew! Pictured from the left: Dave, Tyler, and Landon
photo credit: Dave Cocca

Along the way, I quizzed my crew mates about every challenge and danger I had read about. I was ecstatic to learn they were well-versed in these challenges, and had plans and backup plans to address them. I was further delighted to hear about issues and contingencies made for issues I hadn’t even heard about. I was sure at this point that we were a competent crew that could pull this off safely.

We had numerous PFDs, jack-lines, 3 GPSes, extra lines, shackles, wiring, electrical and duck tape, extra fuel, fuel filters, impellers, belts, night vision friendly headlamps, flashlights, a full set of charts that map the entire coast including all harbour entrances and anchorages, dividers, sliders, tide tables, hand-bearing compasses, binoculars — just about everything I had ever used from ASA 101 through 105!

The first two days were spent in Marina Del Rey. We checked all of the boat’s systems and determined what needed to be fixed before provisioning and embarking on our journey. We swapped out expired fire extinguishers and flares for new ones. We added a couple of requisite placards and a longer anchor chain because the boat’s existing chain was too short to safely anchor around Point Conception if we got into trouble. We put a new belt on the engine (plus a backup), added fresh oil and lots of diesel, flushed the water tanks, provisioned food and water… Late on the second night, we took the boat out for a hard sail to see how it handled. It was great fun and handled like a champ!

Marina Del Rey Sunrise
image credit: Casey Kiernan

We cast-off for Santa Barbara the next morning at 9am. It was a hard day of sailing to SB, but very fun for us sailing junkies. Conditions were pretty rough: 10’ swells, each about five seconds apart, wind gusting up to 40 knots. For fifteen hours straight, we took turns manning the helm. We docked in a slip around midnight and took a well deserved sleep.
The next morning we gave the boat a complete once-over, in case we we missed anything the first time, plus to see how much oil was being burned/how much fuel was consumed/ect. before planning our next (and final) leg of the trip to Santa Cruz. We had to re-stow several things that didn’t stay in their place during the first sail. If it was on the floor, we obviously didn’t stow it properly. We also had to fix the jib (came out of the furling system), windless and radar had failed (electrical issues), and backstay needed tightening. We fixed a few leaks, including one that had me in a wet bunk all night. We refuelled, topped off the oil, and picked up more provisions, then waited for a window of safe weather to get around Point Conception safely.

It was not all hard work though. We took advantage of our club membership reciprocal privileges, and were very warmly welcomed at the Santa Barbara Yacht Club. We even tried to join their Wednesday beer can races, but unfortunately their boats were overallocated.

Santa Barbara Yacht Club
image credit: SBYC

Thursday night around 9pm, we got the weather window we wanted. We headed out for an estimated 48 hour passage, but we managed to complete it in 36. We each rotated through a three hours on, six hours off schedule to keep us underway. We averaged about six knots, with some nice bursts of over 10 knots and a few depressing hours of sailing at less than five knots. The sea was smooth as expected; wind was strong and steady. I was lucky enough to be at the helm while rounding Point Conception, but unfortunately I was sleeping when rounding Big Sur. I had wanted to see Big Sur from the Pacific, but I was cold and tired, and besides, visibility was near-zero — sleeping was a much better option for me. I believe Landon was the lucky skipper that took us around Big Sur.

Big Sur on a clear night with bioluminescent waves
image credit: George Krieger

Things went “almost” exactly as planned. I had finished my shift and passed out in the salon for about 30 minutes before I heard “Dave, little help!” from the cockpit. Luckily, I still had my foul weather gear on so I was able to get topside immediately. There was Tyler, sprawled out on the boom, trying to keep the Main from flying forward and enveloping the mast and shrouds. The outhaul had blown! The boat had recently been re-rigged and apparently the boatyard used a shackle that couldn’t handle the load on the Main! Without the Main, the boat was unbalanced and thrashed side to side in the surf. After getting the sail under control I went back to sleep. By the time I got up the next morning, I was happy to see that Tyler and Landon had replaced the broken shackle as soon as daylight broke with a nice shiny new one that was sized properly. The Main was up and full again, and we were back to a more steady and fast boat.

We also encountered a fishing vessel that didn’t know the rules of the road. They approached us quickly from behind erratically at 2am in zero visibility. I was down below listening to the VHF when I heard Landon (from the cockpit) calling out the vessel saying “Vessel to my stern, vessel to my stern, I am the sloop in front of you, can you see me?!” Without a word, the vessel astern veered away into the abyss.
At times, it felt like we were threading the needle between oil rigs (crystal ships), some of which were not on our Navionics charts, and certainly not on the onboard Garmin’s chart.

The three of us managed to eat steak and asparagus cooked onboard while underway, then we returned to our three hours on, six hours off schedule. My last shift ended at 4am about four nautical miles away from the Santa Cruz harbour. Cold and exhausted, I returned to my bunk with the full confidence in my crew mates to get us into the harbour. It was an awesome experience, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

I would like to thank my co-crew Landon and Tyler who are now “brothers”. I’d like to thank Spinnaker Sailing and everyone I’ve ever sailed with for the instruction and shared experiences that allowed me to pull this off. In particular, David P. and Patrick T, whom I’ve sailed with extensively. Bob, Landon, Alexander and Anil whom have helped me hone my sailing skills. And of course Pam, my lovely wife that got me into sailing, and has supported and encouraged me over the years to push the envelope, and “just do it”.