Southern California (Part 2)
Catalina Island was easily our favorite place in Southern California and a significant highlight of our trip so far. Our time there encompassed the peaceful and picturesque cruising that we had often dreamed of —anchoring in remote bays, beautiful hiking, incredible snorkeling, and beaches all to ourselves. Dolphins played in our backyard, friends and family visited, and we were in no rush to be anywhere else.
Because we were traveling on a budget, we planned our time in Southern California to avoid marinas, which can cost more than $100 per night for a boat of Otaria’s size. Since we aimed to arrive in San Diego in November, at the end of Mexico’s hurricane season, we had time to kill, so we made many short hops, staying in each anchorage for the maximum number of days allowed (usually three or five) before heading to the next stop. Catalina Island was an exception, however, because while many of the prime anchoring spots are taken up by moorings, we could anchor 100 yards outside of any mooring area for up to two weeks in each of the many coves around the island.
We arrived at Santa Catalina Island on September 29th, after a full-day sail from Newport Beach. Our destination was Isthmus Cove, on the northeast side of the island, where our friends Roz and Sean were moored. This area is named Two Harbors, as it lies at an isthmus, where the island narrows significantly with less than a half-mile distance from Isthmus Cove to Cat Harbor on the opposite side of the island.
Karl had his eye set on Little Fisherman Cove, a small cove a short walk or dinghy ride from Two Harbors. Because of the size of the cove, we needed either to set bow and stern anchors to prevent swinging into the rocks or to anchor further out, where the depth was too great for the length of our anchor chain to provide secure holding if the weather picked up. We made several attempts at setting two anchors, but the wind direction had us struggling to get Otaria secured at a comfortable angle to the waves, a safe distance from the large rock face, and 100 yards from the moorings. After several attempts, we decided to forgo the hassle and get a mooring for the night. Karl radioed in our request, and the friendly harbor patrol escorted us to a mooring right next to our friend’s boat, Lusea Blue.
After settling in and taking Desi to shore, we met our friends at the little restaurant for a fun catch-up over drinks. Back aboard, we called our well-wishes to our friends from the cockpit before turning in for the night, as they would be departing at dawn to begin their trip back north.
The next morning Karl was surprised by the harbor patrol, who informed us that we were past check-out time (9 am?!). We paid for an extra few hours and departed at noon. With depths of more than 200 feet, we were able to hug the island as we made our way northwest, scoping potential anchorages along the way. Karl had found a book titled Anchoring at Catalina: No Moorings? No Problem, which gave excellent information on where to anchor near the island, and we were particularly excited about Emerald Bay. It was only a 45-minute trip, and after circling to investigate, we dropped the hook in 40 feet of water just off Indian Rock. We were astonished by the clarity of the water, through which we could clearly see the length of our anchor chain and the shadow of our boat on the sandy bottom!
We spent an amazing week in Emerald Bay, working during the day and playing on the beach with Desi in the evenings. An afternoon hike provided amazing views, and we stopped at Parson’s Landing for a swim. The moorings filled up over the weekend with boaters dressed in full pirate garb, overflow from Two Harbors where the annual Buccaneer Days Festival was happening. We had an amazing time snorkeling around Indian Rock, where we were captivated by the incredible colors of the plant life and the bright orange Garibaldi fish that circled us.
From Emerald Bay, we headed back to Isthmus Cove to fill our water and propane tanks and pick up a few food items at the little store before making our way around the Island to Cat Harbor, on the other side of the isthmus. It was a funny feeling to sail three hours to a spot only a 10-minute walk from where we started! Cat Harbor is an all-weather anchorage, offering better protection than the other coves around the island, and allowing us to swing comfortably on a single anchor. We enjoyed a steep hike up to the Cat Harbor overlook, though rather than views of the harbor, we found ourselves enshrouded in clouds, with only brief glimpses of Otaria laying calmly on the water below us.
Our friend Matteo came out for a lovely weekend visit. We hiked to a beautiful overlook on the opposite side of the harbor, snorkeled in Little Fisherman Cove, played games in the evenings, and even got out for a short sail. He took us to a nice dinner at the little restaurant, where two other sailing friends from Portland joined us, Tracy and Cindy, who were visiting the island on their own boat en route to Mexico. After Matteo’s visit, we had a fun night with them, touring each other’s boats, and enjoying homemade tacos.
From Cat Harbor, we took a one-hour trip to Little Harbor, a small cove with a hike-in campground nestled in a tiny oasis of grass and palm trees. Relieved to find only a small fishing boat there, we set bow and stern anchors in a perfect spot tucked behind large rocks and kelp that diffused the incoming waves. I was excited to snorkel, but the weather was overcast and visibility poor, so we stuck to paddleboarding and exploring the beaches with Desi. On our first morning in Little Harbor, we discovered that we had lost our anchor buoy during the night, but our disappointment was relieved when the owner of the nearby fishing boat paddled over to return it to us. He was a local who knew the area well, and Karl picked his brain for fishing tips.
After two nights in Little Harbor, we sailed 17 miles around the southern end of the island to Avalon, the main town and most popular destination on the island. Karl’s brother and sister-in-law were arriving that weekend, and we wanted to claim a mooring before the weekend crowds arrived. The anchorages near Avalon have depths of more than 100 feet and are fully exposed to wind, waves, and wakes from passing boats. However, our timing was perfect because the off-season mooring deal had just begun: seven nights for the price of two! After checking in with the harbor patrol boat, we were escorted through the narrowly spaced boats to our mooring. It felt like quite a luxury to be secured on a mooring, with no need to monitor the movement of the boat and a secure place to leave the dinghy.
Avalon was a fun change of pace after weeks in remote anchorages. We went to a movie in the beautiful historic casino building, where the soundtrack was overpowered by live music from the jazz festival upstairs. We enjoyed a wonderful visit with Karl’s brother and sister-in-law, and they spoiled us with fancy cocktails at the Descanso Beach Club and delicious dinners in town. We hiked up to some great lookout spots and snorkeled in the dive park, which was teeming with fish that were not at all shy of humans! It was exciting to be in a busy area again, checking out the shops, enjoying hot showers and a fully-stocked grocery store, and people-watching as the harbor filled up during the weekend.
After a week in Avalon, we continued around the east side of the island and decided to drop anchor in Goat Harbor, a beautiful spot with towering rocky hills, clear water, and a small pebble beach. Soon after dropping anchor, Karl discovered a spot in an adjacent cove where dozens of leopard sharks had congregated in the shallows! We floated in the dinghy, watching and filming them with our GoPro.
We had hoped to check out a few more anchorages on the east side of the island before leaving, but strong winds and large waves were forecasted. We had to decide between traveling back around the island to take shelter in Cat Harbor, or heading on to the mainland before the weather kicked up. After a few days of indecision and hoping for a change in forecast, we decided to head for Dana Point on the mainland, despite not feeling quite ready to leave. On our last day in Goat Harbor, I took the paddleboard over to visit the leopard sharks and after a while, got up the nerve to snorkel with them. Though they are harmless bottom-feeders, I was new to snorkeling and a bit nervous. It was such a magical experience to swim so close to such beautiful and graceful creatures! After relishing my last underwater adventure on the island, we hoisted the dinghy and secured the paddleboard in preparation for an early departure.
We left Catalina early the next morning, sailing in light winds with warm sunshine for the first few hours. Karl put out a trolling line and I made breakfast and read aloud while he watched the helm. Several pods of dolphins joined us along the way, delighting us as they jumped and played at the bow. After a few hours, the weather turned and we were quickly enveloped in thick fog and misty rain. As the fog thickened, we increased our vigilance, with radar and AIS as our only way to monitor nearby boats that were hidden by the fog.
Towards the end of the trip, there was a sudden whirring sound as the fishing line paid out rapidly. I yelled “Fish-on!” and Karl grabbed the rod, still doubtful, as we had yet to catch anything more than kelp while trolling. I lunged for the throttle and slowed our speed while Karl carefully reeled in the line. In a flash, I saw a huge shape with a pointed snout jump from the water and dive behind the stern. I yelled in surprise at its size- it was no small fish! Karl battled for more than 30 minutes to bring it back to the surface without breaking the line, while I alternated between steering Otaria in circles to ease tension on the line, monitoring the nearby boats on the radar, and trying to capture photos when it came near the surface. When it finally surfaced, we were both shocked to realize it was a shark! It was between 4 and 5 feet in length, and we later determined it was a mako shark. We were not prepared to handle such a large and ferocious catch, but before we could figure out how best to set it free, it bit through the line and disappeared. It was a very memorable first catch for Karl!
Approaching Dana Point Harbor in the thick fog had us on full alert. It was nerve-wracking to know that boats were so close and yet invisible to us, not to mention the obstacle course of lobster buoys, and the disconcerting sound of waves crashing against an invisible breakwater. At times like this, it eases my anxiety to be at the bow of the boat, where I can see obstacles as soon as they appear. So, Karl took the helm and I perched at the bow, using hand signals to direct Karl around the lobster traps. We inched into the harbor and found the anchorage calm but full of boats. Once we were settled, most of the boats returned to slips in the marina, the fog cleared, and we enjoyed a pleasant evening.
Dana Point has two small anchorages, well protected by a breakwater, and the harbor was bustling with activity. People fished from the dock and the breakwater, kids swam at the small public beach, and paddleboarders, kayakers, whale-watching boats, and sailors passed by throughout the day. We enjoyed some nice days on shore, exploring the town and hiking the trails along the coast. When our five-day limit was up, we moved outside the harbor and anchored in unprotected waters to extend our stay for a vet appointment. The harbor police allowed us to return to the protected harbor for a few nights when the weather picked up, but it was clear from their frequent check-ins that they were eager for us to move on. Once Desi’s vaccines were taken care of, laundry was done, and fuel and water tanks topped off, we were ready to depart for our next destination, our final stop before Mexico: San Diego!
