Anchor Drop

Jensen family

Sun, 18 Jul 2010 10:57:32 -0700

My father scanned all of our family photos and gave them to me and my siblings as gifts for Christmas one year. Here are some of the photos from my father’s side of the family- Christian Jensen. They were Danish and German immigrants who worked hard as Iowa corn farmers. I am so lucky my father took the time and effort to scan these treasures. See Jensen family photos.

My dad was the first and only to attend college. He continued on to earn his medical degree at the University of Iowa and then served in the Army, briefly in Korea, and then back to Letterman at the Presidio in San Francisco where he met and married my mother. During his college summers he earned money serving in the forest service in Wyoming and Idaho.
Jensen family

San Francisco to Marina Del Rey in 43 hours

Sun, 23 May 2010 10:23:11 -0700

I crewed for Arnstein Mustad of Mustad Marine to transport this 57 foot beauty from San Francisco to Marina Del Rey. With only three of us there was a lot to do. 43 hours non-stop, jib only, average 8 knots. Swell reached 12-15 feet, and winds topped off at 38 knots according to the wind meter. Highest speed reached with a reefed jib was an exhilarating 15 knots. Safe, fun, fantastic passage. For more pictures, go here. Quick video, here.

They call me skipper

Sun, 7 Mar 2010 17:15:54 -0800

The Edge
Last weekend I successfully completed my US Sailing Coastal Passage Making course. After more than 50 days total cruising off the coast in the last two years, crewing, navigating and skippering, I am now licensed to take 55 foot yachts up to 200 miles offshore. I celebrated yesterday by sailing with friends to the Farallones and back. What a wonderful reward.

When I started sailing in 2006, my goal was simply to be be able to take friends sailing on the bay. With my first trip out that Gate and down the coast to Half Moon Bay, the peace and power of the sea entranced me. Completing Coastal Passage making, was as much about leadership as it was about sailing. My skills for both have improved tremendously; and I know myself that much better.

Last weekend was the first time I would lead a crew, without an instructor, out on the open ocean. This was also the first time I could pick my crew; so I had asked five friends who I had sailed with before and who were all very experienced sailors. I chartered The Edge, a 41 foot sloop, out of Ballena Bay in Alameda. We would “tag-along” with another boat that did have an instructor on it, sailing within sight of one another, and checking in hourly over the radio.

As I looked at the gale force winds forecast, I wondered why I keep putting myself through things that feel like final exams in college, but with the added intensity of having people’s lives at stake. The answer lies in the process and the people. The required team work and the exact knowledge demanded sailing out on the ocean challenges me to be my best and rewards me with new friendships, leadership skills and a deeper understanding of nature.

Tsunami test
We were fortunate that the winds died down on the bay earlier than forecasted. We anchored near Sausalito, in Richardson Bay, on Friday night. I woke up at 4:45 am to make the crew breakfast, early enough to get everyone fed and ready to depart under the Golden Gate with favorable currents. Once the coffee was brewed, I woke everyone up. We listened to the weather forecast over the VHF radio- tsunami advisory for the California coast. Hmmm, new challenge. We conferred with the other boats and waited for a decision from the club’s instructors and administration. Though the tsunami advisory was only for waves of 3 feet in our area, the club wisely decided not to go out to sea until the tsunami passed. At 13:30, we were docked at the Richmond marina. I observed the sea level rise about six inches and then drop about two feet. Thankfully that was all we saw of the Tsunami.

We decided to sail out that night at 10:30 pm, “to poke our nose out the Gate.” In order for me to pass the skipper test, we needed to go out to the open ocean. 15 foot swells, 15-20 knot winds, 2-3 foot wind waves made for exciting sailing. The crew rotated duties according to the watch schedule, 2 hours on at the helm and on deck, four hours off to sleep or relax. During our passage out, we were careful to stay out of the shipping lane. Because the sea was so kicked up though, it was better for us to be as close to the shipping channel as possible. The waves were less dramatic near the channel with the deeper water lessening their swell. I asked the crew to reef the main, anticipating higher winds as we went farther out. The furling line came off its track, causing the main sail to flap about dramatically. It needed to be fixed, so I went forward, harnessed to the jack lines, to diagnose the problem. I called for help- putting the furling line back in was going to take two people and a winch handle. Pip bravely came forward and we fixed the line. John heard the swearing and came up to the cockpit to help. Lines fixed, John cranked the furling lines hard, reefing to about 50% of the main. It’s events like this, that bring home the reasons for having a good, strong and experienced crew.

We sailed out to the San Francisco Sea Buoy, where the ocean was even more riled up. Having reached our goal, we turned around and headed back to the bay. It was slow going against the ebb, but we motor sailed back, surfing with the waves toward home. We anchored near Sausalito at 5am, toasted our accomplishments with a bit of wine, and quickly fell asleep. We headed back to Alameda later that morning, with a great sense of accomplishment and bonding as a team.

Pictures of the day sail celebration to the Farallones: click here.

Landlubbing

Fri, 26 Feb 2010 11:12:30 -0800

The weather forecast is for gale force winds around 5pm tonight and then dropping off, but with an alert until midnight. Think we’ll be conservative today for sure-stay the night in Ayala cove or at the dock in Alameda. The picture above shows the 5pm forecast on the central bay. Anticipating a wet and windy weekend. We’ll be safe no matter what, but staying on land is sounding appealing right now.

Maverick’s and Ano Nuevo

Sat, 13 Feb 2010 10:38:47 -0800

I spent the early morning at Maverick’s surf contest, with hundreds of other onlookers. Arriving early paid off; I was perched with a cliff-side view of the main breaks. I could see the big waves curling up and the surfers catching them. It was beautiful. As I departed around 9:30 am, ambulances drove toward the point and soaked spectators returned from the break water area. A large wave or two had doused about 40 people, taken down a vendor’s booth and injured a couple of people. No one seemed to have been seriously hurt or washed away. Some nice cameras had taken a hit though.

We left for Ano Nuevo to see the Elephant seals, a favorite annual trip of mine. The alpha males were showing their stuff. It was the first time I had seen them fight, blubber to blubber, red necks and gashes, showing the battles over the last several weeks. Females protected their pups who were still nursing; they made clear protests if the testosterone-crazy males got too close. The weaners, pups whose mom’s have gone back to the ocean to restore themselves for another breeding season, avoided the alpha-male rolling tonnage by staying on the perimeter. It was also the first time I had seen the elephant seals mate. What looks like a dramatic, “Jaba the Hut” approach, as the males roll toward the females and the pups scatter, becomes a little comical as the males slide up next to the female, put their front flipper around the female and do their thing.

These two great events, all within an hour of my house, reminded me of the treasures we can find so close to home. I’m so glad the state park system and mother nature make them possible.

Here’s a video of Ano Nuevo and the Elephant Seals.

MLK day

Mon, 18 Jan 2010 09:55:47 -0800

While in Atlanta working for EarthLink, I visited the Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery, Alabama. I also visited the King center in Atlanta. With such greatness to learn from, I’m glad we’ve taken this day to honor his accomplishments and memory. The quote above from his “I have a dream” speech, is as humbling as the example he and many other civil rights activists set, “...until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

According to the Southern Poverty Law center’s website, “The Civil Rights Memorial honors the achievements and memory of those who lost their lives during the Civil Rights Movement, a period framed by the momentous Brown v. Board decision in 1954 and the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King in 1968.

Created by Vietnam Veterans Memorial designer Maya Lin, the striking black granite memorial is located across the street from the Southern Poverty Law Center's office building in Montgomery, Alabama, a city rich with civil rights history.
The Memorial is just around the corner from the church where Dr. King served as pastor during the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955-1956, and the capitol steps where the Selma-to-Montgomery voting rights march ended in 1965.”

California Christmas Eve

Thu, 24 Dec 2009 17:32:04 -0800

Spent the day on the beach and at the Park Chalet. Temperature in the 60’s and sunshine made for a glorious day outside. Happy Holidays everyone!

355 Nautical Miles

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 11:56:29 -0700

The essentials: 41 foot sloop, 0-65 knot winds, 2 mooring balls, 5 men, 1 woman, 6 nights, 7 days, 355 Nautical miles, coastal passage from San Francisco to Santa Barbara.

Going south
After a week of planning for our passage from San Francisco to Santa Barbara, what we had anticipated would be an easy sail down the coast, with the wind, was very different. The forecast was for hurricane force winds in the San Francisco Bay and on the coast, confused seas up to 25 feet high, with a 6 second period. As skipper, I had to decide whether we would leave our safe harbor in Alameda and start our passage. Working closely with my navigator, Paul, we agreed that we would set sail, but stay in the San Francisco Bay until the storm passed. We had a 12 hour window before the storm, so we could prepare for the passage and be ready to go if the storm didn’t materialize.

After stowing our gear, checking our instruments, and inspecting the boat, we set out for Ayala cove on the leeward side of Angel island in the San Francisco bay. We spent Monday night and Tuesday night moored in the cove, waiting out the storm. The crew and I quickly become antsy, ready to sail but wisely staying in the protected cove as the 65 knot winds churned the seas. We could see the effects, but we were well protected from the wind which tempted us to cross Raccoon Straight to go to Tiburon, to land, and to a bar. We didn’t succumb to the temptation to leave, since we could listen to the weather forecast and use our iphone’s to see the graphic forecasts of the high winds and seas. We used our time to plan the passage and options down the coast. Our instructor was ill, so we were left to our own devices to plan options. After 2 days cooped up on our boat, I had the feeling that I might be living a little chapter of Lord of the Flies. We began to refer to our irrational desire to set sail and our claustrophobic feeling as “Ayala Cove Syndrome.” Any mistake, silly decision or error quickly got attributed to the “illness” we felt because of our powerlessness over the weather.

Getting under way
Finally Wednesday evening came, and the seas and wind settled down. We set sail for Santa Barbara after dinner, passing under the Gate at 6:30 pm and passing over the “bar” around 8. What we had hoped would include a few stops down the coast at Monterey, Morro Bay and then messing about in the Channel Islands became a straight shot over three nights and three days and what felt like a delivery, more so than the vacation we had planned.

Once under sail though, the crew quickly snapped out of Ayala Cove Syndrome and rallied together. Non-stop sailing on a rotation with 2 or 3 hours at the helm, 3 or 4 hours of sleep, over and over for the next 72 hours focussed our efforts as a team. No one hesitated to wake up for his/her helm duty and all of us enjoyed the feeling of relief when the wind turned from Southerly to Northerly and we reached the exhilarating speed of 9-10 knots. A feeling of calm came over all of us when we turned the motor off, no longer fighting against the wind. It was a small victory that bouyed our spirits.

Ships passing in the night
I learned to love RADAR. It was essential to keep us out of the shipping lane, avoid floating hazards and other boats we couldn’t see in the thick fog and dark, moonless night. Without RADAR, we would literally be sailing blind. You can see absolutely nothing except your own boat lights on the Pacific at night. And when it’s foggy too, it brings home the fact that your compass and radar are the only means of avoiding hazards.

When the fog cleared we were rewarded by endless stars, bright planets and even a meteor penetrating the atmosphere lighting up the cockpit. Dolphins zoomed in next to our hull in what looked like missiles being fired at our bow. The phosphorescent plankton made their eyes light up like aliens as they whisked in and around the boat. Sparks shot off the waves as the dolphins jumped up and around each other.

Friday morning, we stopped for a few hours at Morro bay. Happy and relieved that I had passed my skipper rotation, the 6 minute shower I took at the public harbor bathrooms felt like a crowning glory. Paul graduated from Navigator to Skipper. Ivan, our new navigator, and Paul planned our next passage to the Channel islands. Another all day and all night sail to reach Santa Cruz Island, Fry’s cove.

Anchor wench
We got to know each other very well during our non-stop days and nights sailing. Lack of sleep and the physical demands of being at the helm with strong winds and swells, made the environment even more demanding and intense. My fellow crew was none-too-quick to make fun of me in a friendly way to remind me when I needed some perspective. Depending on how they perceived my behavior, as the only woman, they would label me wife, sister or girlfriend. When I swore like a sailor, I was sister. When we felt bonded because of a scary experience or close because I helped them out at the helm or with the sails, I was girlfriend. When I told someone his fly was open or he missed a belt loop, I was “wife.” Spending so much time together in what became a smaller and smaller boat, demanded that we function as a team, and think of the other first. Each of us had funny or trying characteristics, and an ample dose of “shit-giving” was doled out to help blow off steam.

Sunshine and a sense of victory
Saturday morning, I woke up and took the helm at 5:30. The sun started to rise as we approached the Channel islands. Mark made breakfast as the rest of the crew woke up to enjoy our approach to our sorely anticipated destination. We took off our foulies and put on normal cotton pants. We anchored at Fry’s cove across from Santa Barbara. At 10:30 in the morning, we had made it. Relieved and warm, we relaxed in the sun and refreshed ourselves with a swim. We puttered around in our dinghy, checking out the island and just having fun. The next day, we arose early for our four hour passage to Santa Barbara. We docked at the harbor, had lunch and drove back to San Francisco in about 5 hours. This contrast, 4 days sailing in a boat, with 6 humans sailing every waking hour, compared to a half days jaunt in a car, brought home what Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, “To travel hopefully, is a better thing than to arrive.”

Check out the short video to see the beginning and end of our sail, click here.