Strike 3

Never got in the water. Weather is gorgeous, but water is brown with zero viz, - still - with swells dropping to 8 feet it looked almost safe enough to go in. Alas, we ran out of time. No abalone for you.

-- Sent from my Palm Pre

Nevermind

Swells are too big. We'll check in again tomorrow.

-- Sent from my Palm Pre

Tsunami hits San Francisco

I woke up this morning to the news out of Japan and heard that the remnant of the tsunami would be hitting SF a little after 8 AM. Drove out to a bluff-top outlook of the Golden Gate just to see if there was anything to see. Can't say the waves looked any different to me, but got some pretty pictures. Here is the original post from the Pre, followed by other pics:
====

Looks remarkably similar to any other 3 foot wave.

-- Sent from my Palm Pre

=====

Where's Morpheus? Canal Transit

We've been tracking Jim, Deb, Ita and Morpheus as they've made their way down the Pacific Coast, and it looks like they are about to transit the Panama Canal. You can track them here, and watch them with live canal webcams linked here.

I'll update this post with screenshots when (if) I catch them on the webcam.

UPDATE 1: Miraflores Lock


UPDATE 2: Canal Transit

This is the Morpheus SPOT track on google maps as she makes her way under the Centennial Bridge...
...and across the Isthmus.

There is supposed to be a webcam that is focused on the bridge, but for some reason it was focused on a bush for the entire time that Morpheus was in the neighborhood. Must be a security issue.

Morpheus anchored in Gatun Lake overnight. I received this cryptic e-mail report from Jim while on the Gatun Lake anchorage:

"It was pretty cool to spend the night in the lake. Sort of a bonus. I jumped in for a swim and suddenly all five locals on the boat nearby jumped up and yelled at me while making crocodile movements with their arms!!!!"

This struck me as odd behavior for Jim. He generally refuses to get his feet wet when Morpheus is in salt water due to an irrational fear of shark attacks in the Pacific. Apparently he also has an irrational lack of fear of crocodiles, snakes, and piranhas when Morpheus is in a tropical fresh water lake. Go figger.

UPDATE 3: Morpheus completes the transit the next day.

State creates network of marine reserves

Done Deal:

Peter Fimrite, Wyatt Buchanan,
SF Chronicle Staff Writers
Thursday, August 6, 2009

"The salty folks who like to hook rockfish, harvest kelp and dive for abalone will have to steer clear of several spots between Half Moon Bay and Mendocino County after a decision Wednesday by the state Fish and Game Commission to protect 85 square miles of California's ocean, including some of its most pristine habitat. The network of newly formed state marine reserves is part of a California initiative that conservationists say is the most ambitious coastal marine protection program in the world. It includes a permanent ban on fishing within 3 miles of the coast in selected areas where populations of rockfish, northern red abalone, seabirds, sea lions and other marine mammals live.

The network, approved by a 3-2 vote, will include Point Arena in Mendocino County, Bodega Head, Point Reyes, the Fitzgerald Marine Reserve near Half Moon Bay and the Farallon Islands. In those areas, restrictions on fishing and other activities like spearfishing would extend into the ocean for 3 miles.

The regulations come in the shadow of a collapse of the salmon fishery and a two-year ban on ocean fishing of chinook, but the regulations do not address salmon habitat. The plan is to resuscitate flagging populations of rockfish, a complex of bottom-dwelling fish that was once a mainstay of the state's commercial and sport fisheries.

Environmentalists insist that the reserves will also protect crucial habitat for everything from sea slugs to gray whales. In all, 22 areas will have some level of protection. Thirteen sites will be fully protected, covering 11 percent of state coastal waters between Half Moon Bay and Mendocino County. That means fishing and destruction of wildlife and habitat would be strictly prohibited in those areas."

11% of the Central California Coast is now protected marine reserve.

If I am reading the map right, my favorite abalone cove is not affected.

My take - On balance this a good thing, as some action needed to be taken to protect the fisheries. My limited understanding of the science is that this approach is sound. Large blocks of protected reserves are the best way to manage a healthy marine ecosystem.

There are problems - the political process of determining exact locations and rules governing these reserves was seriously flawed. Some small local commercial fishing operations on the coast will be decimated. I think this could have been managed with more consideration for these fishing operations as well as being less onerous to recreational fisherman and kelp harvesters.

The worst aspect of this plan - it is virtually unenforceable as constituted. The Department of Fish and Game is already understaffed, has no chance of getting additional funding from our bankrupt state, and no ability to provide enforcement for these reserves in a meaningful way.

As usual with government programs of this scope, it is the unintended and unanticipated consequences that always seems to bite us in the ass. We'll see how this goes. For now, I am cautiously optimistic.

Not such a great day

Scott on Watch in Foul Weather gear. He seemed to get the most exciting watches. Just Lucky I guess.

My Sunrise Watch


Killing the engine during my watch.
I don't understand why the kill switch is not in the cabin.

Jim G SailMail Post:

Grey Sky

Windy aprox 20 knots

Confused Seas, swells from a variety of directions

Some onboard not feeling so good*

Rain

Squalls

Uncomfortable, but safe and sound!!

Tomorrow better.

----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com

*That would be Scott.

Reporting from Morpheus 081308

Scott's one and only SailMail post for the entire passage:

Just wanted to report nothing happened today.

A B S O L U T E L Y nothing.

Scott

----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com

Ok... Well and good. But I do think it is incumbent on us to amplify exactly what "absolutely nothing" means on an ocean passage.

This picture shows a lot of nothing going on. Clockwise from the left: Scott is making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; Debbie is reading Heinlein's "Stranger in a Strange Land"; Jim is editing pictures on his laptop. I (feet in foreground) am on watch.

It also means taking pictures of shadow puppets on the sail.

It means studying hard to learn whether Port is on the right or on the left.

And it means catching up on your reading.

Drug Transfer at Sea - A done deal

Composite FIStracking screenshot of the Morpheus Recidivist rendezvous.
Don't ask me to explain that Morpheus Heading and Speed. Ask FIS.

JG SailMail Post:

Like clockwork (an hour later than predicted) Morpheus and Recidivist sighted each other traveling in opposite directions 972 miles from San Francisco.
Recidivist tacked and took up a course towards San Francisco. Morpheus fell in behind and slightly to leeward. Seas were moderate and the wind was blowing 15 knots. Pretty perfect conditions for getting the required med's transferred between boats.
It was easy. As we pulled along side they tossed over a throw rope (those things really work!). At the end of the rope was a dry bag attached to a second rope that Recidivist controlled. Scott and Mike stuffed the drugs in the bag (well Scott did, Mike was busy taking pictures), and once closed the bag was pulled back across to Recidivist. That's it. Easy as could be and we were off again!!

Hope they work! Nice day out here. Another one. Easy downwind VMG sailing under main and jib. Home sometime late next weekend. - Jim

----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com/

MW Addendum
Once again I find I must make a correction to Jim's post. This experience has made me question his posts from any and all of his voyages where I was not on board to fact check his work. Scott did catch and manage the throw line. He then handed me the dry bag. I opened the dry bag, stuffed the drugs and resealed it. Scott released it back to the Recidivist. While I was indeed taking pictures before and after the handoff, there are no pictures during.

I don't know why Jim missed this, all he was doing was drive the boat.

Recidivist Rendezvous

That said, the whole thing came off astonishingly well. After all, this is not something that either captain or crew practices on a regular basis ever. Two boats under sail in moderate seas and 15 knots of wind - and it looked like something we do every day. Perfect navigation, perfect alignment, and a perfect transfer on the perfect first throw. Very cool.

We received a sail-mail from Recidivist a day later, saying they thought their afflicted crew member was responding to the antibiotic. I'll update if/when we hear more about what happened.

This post is a Work In Progress. I am hoping to get pictures from the Recidivist crew and will append to the post and video if/when we get them. Ideally, I'd like to post matching photos taken at comparable times from the two boats.

NOTE: While updating the voyage journal, my political blog has been lying fallow. I need to shift gears, but will try to finish updating the Morpheus delivery over the next couple of weeks.

x-posted from Morpheus Sailing Blog

Fish Story

MW SailMail Post:

MW - Fishing Correspondent - Morpheus Bureau - Somewhere in the Pacific High

During the 2003 Tahiti to Hawaii passage, I spent many hours with Jim and Deb's sons Christopher and Patrick, sitting in the cockpit under the stars discussing theoretical physics including relativity, quantum mechanics, and the theory of parallel universes. No - really - we actually did. Sitting in a small boat with the deep blue sea below and the limitless stars above, it just seemed like the thing to do at the time. In particular I recall discussions we had about the theories positing the existence of infinite parallel universes - many only slightly different from each other - existing only a short dimensional shift from each other. For example, in one universe you may catch a fish, but in the otherwise identical universe next door you don't.

Somewhere in a nearby universe there is a photograph taken on Sunday afternoon, with Jim and I standing on the stern of the Morpheus, each holding a four foot dorado/mahi-mahi that we just landed within 20 minutes of each other. I believe that some terrible mistake has been made, and I am supposed to be living in that universe. But I don't live there. Instead I live here in this universe with you, where that photo does not exist.

This is what happened in our universe:

Jim called out "Look at that fish jump!" I looked in the direction of his outstretched hand and saw a big dorado crash back to the surface. Then behind it - another - and another - and another. "It's a school!" I said. The dorado/mahi-mahi is a beautiful fish - long lean, metallic gold green, almost like the paint job on a two tone California hot rod. It was a spectacular sight as they leaped through the calm water, sparkling in the intense mid-day sun.

"I think they are heading for our lures." Jim said. They were. We were motoring through the Pacific high. As usual we had two lines in the water.The hand line was attached to the cedar plug. The reel with the underweight replacement line was trailing a ridiculous rube-goldberg abomination I had fashioned out of pieces from the tackle box that morning. The school was moving in the opposite direction as Morpheus, quartering in toward our wake.

"Look." I said "That one is heading for your lure." Snap. He was on the hand line. I grabbed the line while Jim slowed the engine and put on gloves. I handed the line to Jim. The call of "Fish on!" brought Scott from below and Deb with my camera. It was a big fish. Four feet long. Well, to be precise, I'd put it closer to 3 ft. 11 inches.

Jim slowly and methodically brought the fish closer to the boat. I stationed my self on the swimmers platform in the stern of the boat to gaff or net the fish. Unfortunately, there is neither gaff nor net on board Morpheus. I was not sure exactly what I was going to do. I knew what I should do - grab the fish under the gills. But Jim had the gloves and there were flashing teeth and a big hook, and I was not sure what I was going to do.

It is important at this point to note an obvious fact - the fisherman handling the line loses control of the fish once someone else nets or gaffs or grabs the fish or the line. Back to our story in progress.

The fish was at the boat. I grabbed a stanchion with my left hand to anchor myself to the boat, reached down with my right hand, grabbed the leader in front of the fish and heaved the gold green brute out of the water. Every bit of 3 feet 11 inches. He was over the transom now, but still flopping on the hook under my straining arm. I could not grab him with my other had without releasing my hold on the boat. What to do? I tried to lift him higher and throw him over the lifeline onto the Morpheus deck. He flopped, lost the hook, bounced off the transom, and was gone.

There was a long uncomfortable silence while we all looked at each other. I'd rather not describe the look that Jim was giving me. Before anything could be said, the drag on the brass reel started screaming. We had another fish on the line.

I could not get out from under that gaze fast enough and scrambled behind the brass reel in the holder on the port side. Conscious of the light test line spooling out of the reel, I babied the drag, tightening ever so slowly - the fish jumped. Another dorado. Another four footer. Well, to be precise, I'd put it closer to 4 ft. 1 inch.

Long story short...er.. Long story not so long... I fought the fish for about 20 minutes, treating the line like a thread. The fish jumped at least six times bringing it in. Finally it rolled on its side and I could draw it slowly up on the stern. It was every bit of 4 ft. 1 in. Jim was already on the step in the transom wearing the gloves. Somewhere behind me I vaguely heard a small voice saying "Hey guys - I know how to do this. I snag fish in the delta all the time." I think it was Scott. Must have been. But I was focused on Jim. "Jim, the only way to bring it on board is grab it under the gills."

Jim said "I can grab the wire leader."

I said "Jim, the only way to bring it on board is grab it under the gills."

It is important at his point to note an obvious fact - the fisherman handling the line loses control of the fish once someone else nets or gaffs or grabs the fish or the line. Back to our story in progress.

Jim grabbed the leader and pulled the head of the fish over the transom. Then his hand slipped up the leader to the line. The fish flopped. The line broke. The fish was gone.

Another long uncomfortable silence ensues.

I dunno.

Both fish were caught. Both fish were brought on the boat. Both fish were "released" depending on how one interprets the "state of mind" of the fishermen and gaffers. Regardless of psychological interpretation, it was one of the most extraordinary fishing experience of my life.

That night Deb made a very nice Hamburger Helper plate for dinner. Hey, I'm not complaining. It was good. This universe that you and I are stuck in is still a pretty darn good universe, but...

They were eating fresh Mahi-Mahi on the Morpheus in that universe next door.

Update to things we have learned about how to not catch fish on Morpheus:

RULE # 9A
If your name is Jim and you have a fish on the line, have Scott and not Mike bring it on board.

RULE #9B
If your name is Mike and you have a fish on the line, have Scott and not Jim bring it on board.

RULE #10
Bring a friggin' net.

----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com

ADDENDUM:
I know I am being a bit obsessive about this, but upon returning home, with a little applied theoretical physics, I was able to open a quantum tunnel into that neighboring universe. I could only maintain the portal long enough to extract this one distorted image:

I knew it! I am sure that I am supposed to be living in that universe.