fools anchorage

Fools Anchorage

        Fools anchorage in Santa Barbara is unique in California . It is the only place left where you can actually anchor your boat, overnight for as long as you want, close to a harbor for free. During the summer months they allow you to anchor fairly close to Stearns wharf, but in the winter months the boats are required to anchor down by the cemetery a mile or so south of the pier They're are a number of absentee owners of various sailboats of all sizes, that end up finding there sailboats up on the beach when the South Easterly storms blow through in the winter and spring. It is common to see 3 or 4 sometimes 5 and 6 sailboats up on the beach after such storms and it is fairly routine for the Harbor Patrol to dispose of them when the owners cant afford, or don't wish to afford salvaging their sailboats. Usually the anchor gear was old or inadequate, and thus the name Fools anchorage. Another feature of Fools anchorage is it is populated by the seedy homeless people that find ways of surviving out on the anchorage though they have to row in, or if they are lucky have a little outboard. I was unaware of this fact, as there were some fairly expensive sailing yachts out there as well. That slice of ignorance, would comeback to haunt me sooner rather than later.

            Jeff Cochran was an urchin diver that I was acquainted with over the years we had our ups and downs, but the little escapade that he pulled was a little over the top even for him. I was anchored in Fools anchorage one day. It was a beautiful winter day and I was just relaxing on the boat when I hear someone yell “Hey Mike what are you doing” I popped out of the cabin and it is Jeff Cochran with a big old smile on his face. What the.....? He said he “borrowed” someones dinghy when he saw my boat and rowed out to say hi. I was a bit surprised he would go thru all that trouble, just to say hi. Anyway we were bullshitting about the urchin business when another dinghy approached us, and inside rowing was a giant of a sun browned, tattooed (The prison kind) man, gesturing and waving and pointing and when he got close enough yelling that the dinghy that Jeff acquired was his. Jeff a little embarrassed, explained that he had written a note in the sand and he would return the dinghy in a little bit. So I was a little miffed that Jeff would bring this kind of attention down on me. I certainly did not need any help in that department. So there was some banter back and forth. At one point the man in the dinghy who I learned was called Pirate. That should have been a red flag right there, I lamented later. So after Pirate and Jeff concluded there negotiations, as to what kind of compensation Pirate should receive in lieu of use of the dinghy, I relaxed a little because at one point someone mentioned calling the Harbor Patrol. That is something I did not need. Jeff never did compensate Pirate for use of his dinghy, but if he knew then, what I know now he would have taken care of that agreement.

             That was my introduction to Pirate. He had come up from San Diego with a crew of scallywags.....about 5 of them I believe. There appearance I would describe homeless hippie chic. So this colorful cast of characters, Pirate being their leader, hatched a scheme  to place bids at he lien sale auctions, the small boat harbors that dotted Southern California coast north of San Diego. held every so often. It is common for owners of the sailboats to fall behind on there slip fees. Although they may have acquired the sailboat at a very reduced price.....the biggest cost over time is the slip fees, and many owners fall into that trap and end up having there boats seized and sold at auction, where the cycle begins again, or a perfectly seaworthy sailboat is cut up and hauled away as trash.
         Pirate and his motley crew set out from San Diego, and by the time the little flotilla reached Santa Barbara, all five had a sailing vessel to anchor in Fools anchorage.  They could anchor them for nothing,and could live on them, or try and sell them with the added sales pitch of no slip fees. It was a reasonable plan, and they did get some pretty decent boats for next to nothing. It was more the quality of character of those scallywags that left the plan a little wanting. I believe the San Diego Harbor  Patrol sent word to their counterparts that "the fleet" was headed their direction.

        I began making urchin trips on my boat the Longfin. The 33 ft, 8 ton vessel, with no anchor winch was a giant pain in arms and legs, literally. It was also hard to keep a diver when pulling that hook by hand, 2 ,3, 4 or more times was exhausting, and when I was by myself, forget it. If I had to pull that hook 2 or 3 times, I just wanted to quit. Especially in the kelp, which was most of the time. I had been bugging Kieth Whitney( my main mechanic/all around go to guy for boat and urchin gear) to complete the job. He said he had to fabricate a piece that would serve as a mount,for the hydraulic motor. It would have to be positioned so it would line up with the engine fan belt. I could do most of the rest of the work myself. He finally ended up taking the winch off his boat, that he just lived on. Having given up on fishing. The anchor winch made all the difference and Kieth mounted a switch on the dash so I could activate the winch from there, which was a godsend when I was by myself which was more than anticipated.

         So Finally the Longfin was an official Sea Urchin Dive Boat . It took almost two years by the time I was through Unfortunately my timing was wrong, because right about the same time the price of fuel went up and the economy took a dive. I was struggling to break even, and to save on slip fees I would anchor in Fools anchorage.

           After going in and out in my boat and dinghy, over time I got to know Pirate and he had a very soft spoken demeanor for such a big man, but the content of his observations was clearly non-conformist, which slightly appealed to me. He had spent most of the part of 20 years in prison, but had been smart enough to stay out for the last 10. He was very resourceful and had his way with people in general.

             Pirate of course would ask me where Jeff was and why he did not pay him, which I played dumb, not mad enough at Jeff to send this guy after him. I inevitably asked Pirate to tend for me since, I was having trouble finding and keeping a crew together. He was good on the water but not much practical knowledge of a commercial operation to make my life easier, and the trip was less than successful. For him it was very successful in that he got a good look at all my gear and what is was used for and how much it might be worth.

       On the occasions where I did get a slip, I was often put into the end at Marina 4 right next to this beautiful old sailing yacht 40 something feet and the occupant was Westerly. Westerly was a beautiful blond with blue eyes. Classic California girl look, she still looked great into her 40's though she did have flaws. She was in a bad traffic accident about 10 years before and she had a glass eye, but no other physical effects one would notice. The first time I met her she came over to my slip and said the radio was too loud. Had I known that she was there I would not have had it that loud, but she was nice about it and eventually we became friendly. She would ask me to look at something on her boat that was not working properly and I fixed a couple little small things. The inside of the her sailing yacht was custom made by her father. Just beautiful workmanship, teak and mahogany cabinets and drawers. He was in his 90's and lived in a Multi-million dollar home overlooking Leadbetter beach in Santa Barbara. She grew up sailing as her name implies. She was teaching at the high school part time, as she said she still had some lingering effects from the accident that prevented her from taking on a full workload.

        I had not seen Westerly for a few months,when one day I was sitting in my truck and she walked by and asked me to drive her vehicle to her fathers and I could follow her there in another vehicle, that she needed to use. I agreed and when it task was completed she invited me to go for a sail to Smugglers Cove in her new sailboat. Her fathers being of museum quality was sold to a restorer who would bring it back to her former glory. I said that would be fun and I thought maybe she would be romantically inclined as well.

She was a little surprised when I showed up at the agreed time with a tri- tip and a bottle of special edition Myers rum.

I had a good trip on the Longfin I was able to get a really good diver Pat McCallion who along with Johnny Goomer, we put 3000 lbs on the boat. When she saw that I was serious she fired up the motor and we backed out of the slip and headed out towards the breakwater. There was not much wind so we just motored out. She had a GPS but no radar and of course it fogged in just as we were getting to Santa Cruz Island. I kind of guessed about anchoring , but there was no wind so I figured we would be safe a mile or so out. I even deployed a second anchor just to be safe. There was no wind and the fog was thick....I was only worried that if another boat came thru... but they probably had radar and they would not hit us. The only problem was her anchor gear consisted of 300 foot of chain I found out the hard way as it was paying out. To top it off she had an an electric anchor winch that I could not get to work, and I am sure nobody else had either. Oh we were safe alright, but she was freaking out in the fog and she stayed up all night fearful. I told her to wake me up to take an anchor watch but she never did.

The following morning the fog was letting up and we could see the island. We were a mile from shore. Westerly and I were able to pull the second anchor. There was a hand winch on the bow with the main anchor. I took a several dozen cranks on it and it would eventually of pulled up all that chain by the middle of next week, That is if I did not have a stroke first.

        The NOAA research boat, Shearwater was on the radio, so we requested assistance, Westerly had introduced me to Paul who was the skipper, so he was more than happy to help us. Trouble was even his anchor winch was straining to get all that chain up. Then the line snapped before he ever got to the chain. So we headed in. Westerly was not happy. I explained to her that much chain was overkill, and without a working winch to bring it aboard, forget it.

We had a brief respite from our uncomfortable voyage in, when a whales tail popped up right next to the boat. The rest was her blaming me for everything and the loss of her expensive anchor was my responsibility.

         So I rowed out to my boat in Fools anchorage. The next morning I woke to the sound of my boat on the beach. I rushed out on deck and opened the engine room...flooded....I called the Harbor Patrol and they were in there truck on the beach..I gathered all my important papers, and all the tools and jumped over the side my anchor light was still lit . After I ferried the most valuable items to the beach in my underwear no less. I must have been quite a spectacle. Then I grabbed the anchor line and found the end. The pin was missing from the shackle. I had just checked the anchor gear and wired it, so it would not come loose. I knew this was no accident.

         I took one last look at my boat the anchor light still on with an engine room full of salt water, the small but consistent surf slowly breaking her apart and I walked away, I knew the Longfin was a total loss. I was out of money and out of energy, I jumped in the Harbor Patrol 4x4 and I tried not to cry.

         I wish I could say, it was one hell of a storm that caused the my boat to be grounded ashore, but it was as flat as a mirror that night, that pin could have been out of that shackle for hours. What are the odds that Pirate “came to my rescue" and took as much dive gear and electronics etc etc.. that he could.” He reported that one of the crew members off the dredge salvaged my air compressor. I tracked him down and got 50 bucks from him. He said he had it pickled in his garage...I dejectedly took the 50 bucks. Pirate used the oldest trick in the book, scuttle the vessel and rob the valuables. There is no doubt in my mind he rowed his dinghy up to my anchor line pulled it up to the chain and removed the shackle. Everyone in the anchorage knew I was going to the Islands overnight, because before we left I had Westerly motor over to Jerrys boat. I handed him a 100 dollar bill, payment for tending for me one trip. I said to myself “why do you think they call him Pirate." Armed with that useless knowledge ...It still could not get my boat back. What a fool I was in Fools anchorage.     I retired from the urchin business that day. 25 years was enough.