Chapter 2

Two weeks after my acquisition of the Benji, at about 7 pm on a Thursday, I pulled my car, loaded with everything I could possibly think of needing, out of the driveway. The Benji was birthed at the E Z Landing Marina, toward the South end of Humbolt Bay. It would be a six hour drive through San Francisco, across the Golden Gate Bridge and straight up highway 101. I headed North, hoping to avoid the traffic into and out of San Francisco.

On the passenger seat beside me was my copy of Chapmans Piloting and Seamanship, on the floor, my shiny new Craftsman tool box loaded with all of the tools I owned. I was particularly fond of the box. It was just like my dad's. Countless times I reached into his, to hand him this wrench or that, as he worked to repair and maintain the family vehicles. Holding his 'trouble light', I watched him and learned. It was the only time I heard him curse, each time following with,"I shouldn't have said that." His Craftsman showed the wear of twenty-odd years; mine had the shine of a new quarter.

As I drove, I felt the exhilaration of a new adventure, the anticipation of discovery and the uncertain excitement of a new challenge. Stepping out of the known into the imagined, can both fulfill and disappoint, but the beginning of a quest is always full of the best life has to offer. A blank page, an empty canvas, whatever metaphor you choose, it is unspoiled and ripe with promise. That feeling of promise and exhilaration is the mainstay of any adventurer, the downfall of many a gambler, the motivation for rodeo cowboys and the subject of countless songs. It can lead to an addiction or be the addiction. I approached the Golden Gate Bridge.

The name Golden Gate, refers, not to the bridge itself, but to the entrance to the San Francisco Bay. A bridge across this entrance was thought impossible prior to the twentieth century. Water four hundred feet deep, wild, swift currents and the almost ceaseless West wind blowing in from the Pacific, were challenges not conquered until 1937. The span itself is 1.7 miles of roadway hanging 220 ft. above the water, suspended by cables from two 750 ft towers. On one occasion I thought the underside of this magnificent bridge was the last thing I'd see as I passed from this world, choking on seawater and gasping for air. Tonight it was my passage to adventure! The sun setting low in the western sky gave a spectacular show, as I continued North on my way to the E Z Landing and the Benji!

After a few more hours, I pulled off the road to sleep. The sleeplessness the night before, brought on by anticipation, and the post adrenaline rush crash had caught me. Afraid of the loss of all my treasures, I slept, in my car, by the side of the road, until awakened by the sun beating on my face. I arrived at the E Z Landing Mobile Park at 9 am Friday morning. Mobile Home Park and Marina? 'Marina' struck me as an afterthought. I had seen many marinas in my travels and on television. I was anticipating a Miami Vice, Magnum P I or Quincy class marina, not the E Z Landing Mobile Home Park and Marina. No matter, this was where my yacht was berthed. She was surely the best vessel here!

The Water Alive, The Widowmaker! Chapter One

Humbolt Bay, in Northern California, is an idyllic looking body of water when viewed from the shore. The second largest enclosed bay in California, and the only safe harbor between San Francisco and Coos Bay, Oregon, it has a long standing reputation of being a treacherous bay to enter from the sea. Early sailors, from France and Spain, sailed by the mouth of the bay for decades without ever discovering it. It's first discovery by white men was from a land approach, after which, ships from San Francisco were dispatched for exploration. These vessels were almost wrecked due to the difficulty of navigating the sandbars, waves and currents leading to the bay. Knowledge of these facts might have changed the outcome of this story, or prevented its' occurrence altogether!

I received a call from my older cousin, Dan, with the prospect of engaging in the fishing business in Northern California. I have loved fishing all my life, and, at the age of 23, this to me, sounded like Heaven on Earth! Dan's father, I was told, had gone overseas for work and left a fishing vessel behind, in the care of his sons; The Benji. She was tried and true, had a seaworthy pedigree, built by Owens and powered by Chevy? Yes, Chevy. It seems some locals, who thought my uncle had 'gone out' during the fishing strike of the late 1970's, had sabotaged the original diesel motor. It had been replaced with a rebuilt truck motor. I was impressed, intrigued and yes, very interested! My young wife, however, was not.

A few years passed. My young wife and I had parted ways, when I heard that my uncle had put the Benji up for sale. Ah the Benji, perhaps it was fate come calling after all! I contacted him. He said I could take custody of his ship and we would settle-up at a later date. What a thrill that was! A 26ft yacht under my command!

I had commanded vessels before. My dad had a 10ft flat bottomed rowboat, in which we had spent hours fishing in freshwater, under power of oars, before I commandeered a 1 1/2 hp motor to mount on the stern. We launched one morning at Santa Cruz Yacht Harbour in a heavy fog. After an hour of dead reckoning, against the waves, keeping the bow into the oncoming surf, we could make out the superstructures of commercial fishing boats at the far edge of our limited view. Being both courteous and cautious, we slipped our anchor overboard and began to fish a fair distance away.
As the sun rose in it's predictable arc, and the bane of our vision burned off, it revealed that, while we knew we were out at sea, we had motored parallel to the beach a mile and a half, and the fleet of boats we avoided were those vacant hulks tied to their moorings a stones throw from the public pier! We shared a good laugh, caught a few fish and added to our experiences on the water.

I called dad, not long after that trip, to let him know that the U.S. Coast Guard Auxiliary was holding a Boating and Seamanship course near my home. We enrolled and spent quality time together learning the ropes, or lines as they become when you bring them on board a vessel. I loved the time with dad, the knowledge of boating and the confidence that comes with that knowledge.

I was ready for the Benji!