Sailing Long Beach to King Harbor

Five waypoints to King Harbor:

2.2 miles @ 190° to Queen's Gate
5.6 miles @ 242° to Pt Fermin buoy
6.5 miles @ 272° to Pt Vicente
3.1 miles @ 319° to 10PV buoy
4.7 miles @ 018° to RB bell buoy

Big, sloppy seas all the way to Point Vicente, but no wind. Seas diminished and winds filled in as we neared Redondo Beach.

The sailing was so good, we passed right by RB. Sailed ten more miles via El Segundo, out west a-ways, then finally back to the harbor for check in. MJ made three passes at the Harbor Patrol dock before sticking SolMate's nose into an empty slip. By then a pretty good wind was blowing. We checked in and received an anchoring permit, which didn't really seem to be required. Other boats anchored without it. The only requirement was two anchors, bow and stern, but some boats didn't do that, either, which didn't really matter because the anchorage was virtually empty.

After a few reconnaissance circles in the anchorage, like a dog circling to lie down, MJ crept SolMate up to the breakwall until she couldn't stand the suspense any longer. The depth sounder read 3.8 feet over the shoal by the rocks (SolMate draws 6.5 at the keel). Stan dropped the new 45 pound CQR in 6 feet. We backed off, letting out 200 feet of chain, dropped the Danforth behind us in 20 feet, then dragged in 100 feet of the bow road, settling securely in between with 5:1 scope on either end.

Bill and Jeanie on Mariah, friends from Little Ships Fleet and Long Beach Marina, floated past as we anchored. They rented a slip in the marina. As soon as the boat was tidy, we launched the dinghy and found them docked right next to The Cheesecake Factory -- according to Jeanie, the best slip in the joint.

The Harbor Patrol kindly offered their dock for secure dinghy parking while we were ashore, but dragging ourselves away was difficult. We dawdled on the boat, enjoying the constant entertainment in the marina. Fishermen on the breakwall and in boats, paddlers, SCUBA divers, sea lions and birds kept us amused for hours.

Behind SolMate was the main channel, separated from the marinas of King Harbor by another breakwall. Behind the marinas, the Redondo power plant, covered in scaffolding, was still being dismantled.

The police set up an underwater navigation course in the main channel, using orange buoys as markers. SCUBA divers navigated to predetermined points through the murky water. The SolMate supervisors kept track of their progress; each diver was attached to a colored float dragging along behind.

Not that we were tired of watching the harbor activity, but we'd arranged to meet friends at The Lighthouse, where Vesica Pisces was playing. We wandered up the Strand, reacquainting ourselves with our old Redondo Beach hood, took in the band for a few hours, then cruised on back to the boat. As we rounded the bend, there was B'Shert anchored beside us. What a treat to be joined by friends from our Long Beach dock.

MJ's friend, Beverly, met us for breakfast at the King Harbor Yacht Club, where we enjoyed the food and the spectacular view with B'Shert's crew, Michael and Ann.  After breakfast, we all wandered off our separate ways, Beverly back home to more guests, Michael and Ann back to the anchorage to climb the mast, and us: forced march.

Sunday dawned clear and hot. B'shert and SolMate waited and waited for the wind to pick up, but finally raised their anchors and motored out of King Harbor sometime after noon. Monitoring a race committee on the VHF, their sad wind reports weren't encouraging, "Three knots at 265°, four and a half at 260°." The direction was perfect for our southward crawl, but it just wouldn't fill the sails. 

A modern man on his personal watercraft diverted our attention from the light winds.  There he was, a mile or so offshore, gabbing away on his cell phone. "Can you hear me, now?"  He was parked just about on top of our waypoint -- time to turn towards the east.  Finally, as we cleared the peninsula, wind.

Off went the motor, up went the chute.  Ray attempted to steer, but the seas were still too messy for him to be efficient.  One of the few times a human helmed better than the auto pilot. We surfed with the swell at our back all the way from Pt. Vicente back to Queen's Gate, dodging the usual traffic of fishermen, cargo carriers and cruise ships.