San Diego to Mission Bay

When I ran out of days at the Public Dock in San Diego, I moved the pleasure yacht Kalakas north about 15 miles to Mission Bay, a small little bay with a few harbors but, more importantly, a free anchorage area. The 3 hour journey from San Diego to Mission Bay was my first solo sail on the Ocean--a nice introduction to the new challenges sailing short handed offers. The trip would have been uneventful if it weren't for one little detail I let slip my mind. Cruising out of San Diego Harbor--where I was assaulted by the Harbor Patrol one last joyous time for being within 1/2 mile of an approaching, invisible sub--I set up the auto pilot and lay back for a relaxing motor sail north up the coast (unfortunately, there wasn't quite enough wind to make reasonable progress). I was just entering a blissful state of relaxation when I heard the engine throttle down unexpectedly, running a bit rough. Oh no. Not again. I jumped up and took a quick look at my surroundings to assess what the problem could be. There are so many variables in ocean boating, especially sailing, and so you have to get used to juggling all the myriad little details that must be attended to: What's the wind doing? Where's it coming from? How about the swell? Is the auto pilot set properly? Any boats in my way? What course should I be setting? Any sunken obstacles? Shipping lanes? How's the canvas look? Adjusted properly? How much battery life do I have left? Fuel? How's the oil pressure? Is the engine cooling water running freely? Any lines dragging in the water? And so on and so forth. Well, I took a gander, and realized that I had unwittingly sailed right into the middle of a kelp bed. Not too much of a problem if you've got a good strong wind to push you through, but if you don't and you're running the motor, you're in trouble. Kelp wraps around the prop and can stall the motor, or render the prop useless unless you dive and clear it. The kelp can clog up the engine cooling water intake, blocking water from cooling the motor, fouling the impeller and the cooling passages, you can lose maneuverability and drift freely...many problems. Quick as a whistle I shut off the motor, which had slowed when the prop got wrapped in kelp. I caught it quick, so there was a good chance I wouldn't have to dive, but that was yet to be determined. First things first, how do I get out of the kelp bed? Luckily, there was just enough wind to give me enough forward momentum to drift out of the bed at about a half a knot. So I bobbed and drifted for about 15 minutes and finally made it clear, avoiding a crab boat that was close to my path. Once out, I fired up the motor in neutral and saw very little cooling water coming out of the engine. Great. Figuring I was going to have to dive to clear the intake, I gave it one desperate shot and swept the boat hook around in the water, scraping it along the hull in the general area of the intake. Cleared! Thank goodness. Next, put it in reverse to try to unwind the kelp. Not bad. I used the boat hook again and pulled up the kelp that was obviously trailing behind the boat by the prop, and pulled on it good and hard and got it free. Lucky. Try forward...no stalling...seems ok...good! Sweet relief. I can tell you, I was not excited about jumping into the 50 degree water, alone, behind the drifting boat, to dive below and try to mess around under there. I'd done that once in Punta Banda where I had to cut an errant dock line loose from the prop shaft where it had become entangled. Buck naked, I might add, while Liam's uncle and sisters watched. Argggh, maties!
So, without further shenanigans, I got the boat the rest of the way to Mission Bay, anchored single handedly (Brady, you can appreciate how difficult that was), and spent a couple of uneventful nights at anchor while waiting for a weather window to get up to Ventura, where I found an affordable slip.