After a peaceful layover in Monterey, we slipped the docklines at 9:45 AM and motored out into a glassy sea under soft gray skies. The wind was barely a whisper for most of the day—just enough to rustle the telltales but not enough to fill the sails. So, the hum of the engine carried us down the coast.
Despite the quiet air, the sea offered magic: scattered all around us were whales, swimming solo—no dramatic breaches, no fluke slaps—just the gentle arc of their backs breaking the surface, spouting in calm rhythm. It was a quiet kind of whale watching, and somehow more intimate. We kept our distance, but their presence stayed with us long after they slipped below.
As the sun dipped low, we made dinner underway—vegan sloppy joes, simple and satisfying. Not long after, the wind filled in just enough to kill the engine and try for a few hours under sail. We went wing-on-wing and let Francesca glide south in silence. That stretch was everything you hope for in a sailboat: no noise, no fuss, just the slow dance of canvas and hull under a starlit sky.
We docked at Morro Bay Yacht Club just after 3:00 AM—tired, but content. Another long leg behind us. Francesca handled it beautifully, and so did the crew.
Up next: rounding Pt Conception to the Channel Islands.
