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!
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!
can't wait for the rest of the story.... intrigued
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