
Easter Sunday dawned bright, clear and calm here on the Ventura coast. Not the conditions we sailors usually call great, but for our mission this holiday morning this was an utterly perfect day.
We met the charter party at 8:00, learned who was prone to seasickness (almost everyone), got our instructions (get out of the harbor, head west from Hollywood Beach, stop, spread ashes, hustle back to port before anyone turns green.)
The morning warmed and the water diamond-sparkled as we headed out at harbor speed limit with the family’s ancient Auntie in a highly polished wooden case.
Auntie had been in these parts since these parts had a name. The family had bought into the Hollywood Beach development in the 1920′s and had been coming here ever since. That was pre-Malibu, when Hollywood mavens came to cottages on our stretch of dune-protected beach. That was also pre-breakwater, pre-harbor.
Pre-wetsuit, Auntie and a small number of the family waded in and swam these waters. Even if you’re wearing wool swimsuits, which they were, there isn’t a lot of warmth. But swim they did and Auntie kept at it until she was 85, and never in a wetsuit.
Some of the family were eyeing her century mark like some sort of finish line, but Auntie turned in her score card at age 97. I doubt she ever needed help getting into the Pacific before; I doubt going to the water was a solemn affair before today.
We ran parallel to the jetty and as we turned NW to run down the breakwater. We spotted a small pod of dolphins just outside the surf line slicing through shallow water intent on gathering breakfast. Everyone, including me, always thrills at the sight of dolphins and almost everyone believes me when I say that seeing them at the beginning of a cruise portends good fortune. Dolphins always make people smile.
The family spotted their house, and we turned out bound directly in front of it. Just then, off to the right at about one o’clock, we spotted a gray whale spout. I guessed out loud that it was a female and that she might have a calf with her.
A second or two after she surfaced a second time, a small whale-shape appeared next to her and shot a water-pistol spray into the air. They were in 40′ of water, moving NW at a leisurely pace. When they appeared again, she’d shifted the calf, keeping herself between us and the baby. All very orderly. All grace a harmony with the swell and diamond-sparkles.
A mile or so off shore – in sight of her old house, in the presence of whales and dolphins – we spread Auntie’s ashes.
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Rob Walton’s most excellent picture of Anacapa shows why I’m a big advocate of winter sailing in SoCal


