On October 1, we finally pulled ourselves away from the lovely Santa Barbara to enjoy some time “on the hook” and “off the grid.” Our friends on Andante, a gorgeous 50-foot trawler, had been anchored at Santa Cruz Island a few days already. They had been in an uncomfortable anchorage called Smuggler’s Cove. We recommended they move to Prisoner’s Cove, but never having received confirmation from them that they had moved, we went to Smuggler’s Cove to meet up with them, only to find that they had, indeed, moved! We therefore went out of our way a few hours to finally hook up with them in Prisoner’s Cove, but that was ok, especially since Rick caught his next fish on the journey! It was a Bonita (which means ‘pretty’ in Spanish.) We gutted it, wrapped it in aluminum foil with butter and garlic, and cooked it on the BBQ. Delicious!
Kevin and Susan of Andante let us borrow their kayak, so Rick and I took turns paddling the cove. And they gave us rides in their dinghy so we didn’t have to blow up ours. We had a pot luck dinner on their boat (ok so motor boats can be a heck of a lot more comfortable than sailing vessels are: 3 stories, an icemaker, room for all the toys you want). Rick and I went hiking up to almost the top of the island with their son Zack. It was great to just relax and not be constantly diverted by access to Internet or phones!
After three nights at Prisoner’s Cove, we headed southeast past Anacapa Island and over the the mainland, where we anchored out in a place called Paradise Cove, off of the shores of Malibu, before heading down to Venice the next day.
On our way, Rick caught another fish; this time, a barracuda! I can see why they have a reputation – those teeth are scary!
The idea of anchoring off of a beach that housed the rich and famous of Malibu was kind of enticing.
Paradise was not so much a paradise that night. We are not sure if it was that we anchored too close to shore, or just that a south swell picked up more than forecast, but Rick didn’t sleep too well that night, worrying our anchor was fouled. It didn’t help much that in the middle of the night, we heard loud banging and what sounded like rubbing against our hull. Rick couldn’t wait to weigh anchor in the morning and get out of there. Sure enough, our anchor was fouled on a huge growth of kelp. With a lot of working it with the boat hook and going back and forth over it, and moving our anchor float around, we got the anchor unfouled.
A few short hours later, we were in Marina Del Rey.