Strong east (from the east) winds can create dangers at sea, especially around our Channel Islands. I remember one evening when it all blew up out there.
Boats were resting gently at anchor under an intense blanket of stars, in picturesque Smuggler’s Cove at the east end of Santa Cruz Island. Sailboats outnumbered powerboats. Large roomy power yachts towered over small powerboats. A couple of commercial boats rounded out the happy fleet.
On such a warm and sunny autumn weekend, boaters were enjoying an overnight adventure at a gorgeous spot. However, the casual adventure was about to turn into a perilous exercise in foul-weather seamanship.
Late in the evening, small wind waves from the east began to rock the boats gently. The effect was minimal, and only a few sensitive boaters poked their heads out of their cabins to check on conditions. Most crawled back into their bunks, assuming a boat had come by in the dark and created a wake. Then a strong but brief gust of wind swung all boats around, bows to the east and anchor lines taught.
Within a span of 10 minutes, a warm and strong easterly wind was blowing and gusting to 20 knots. Boaters came bouncing out of their bunks to check their ground tackle. Some of the more experienced boaters quickly put out a second and even a third anchor and assigned watches.
Mother Nature had given as much warning as she cared to, and suddenly unleashed the full gale force of her offshore desert winds. Some folks call them Santana Winds (devil winds), while others call them Santa Ana winds. The latter name seems to have come from the Los Angeles area, where these winds come from the general direction of the city of Santa Ana.
The weather service tends to refer to “Santa Ana” winds, so we seem stuck with that name, although “Santana” seems more appropriate.
Your intrepid captain and columnist was in that anchorage that night. I’ve seen those winds many times, and knew what was coming after those first warm gusts. I sounded the alarm for nearby boats, then pulled my anchor and throttled up to run toward a safer anchorage.
Under normal conditions, eastward-facing anchorages such as Smugglers and Pelicans are calm and protected from the prevailing westerly winds and waves. In Santa Ana conditions however, those spots can become deadly traps. I heard later that one boat ended up on the beach that night, other boats were damaged, and people had been injured.
In my boat, we were well along the north shore of the island, heading for the relative protection of Chinese Harbor before the full fury of the desert winds whipped the sea to a froth. The seas quickly became treacherous. Easterly wind waves were building and interacting with opposing westerly swells and the result was something like the agitate cycle in your washing machine.
We made it to Chinese Harbor, drenched, tired and sore. It isn’t the best anchorage under these conditions, but it was fairly close, and many times safer than Smugglers because it faces the northwest. By mid-morning, the winds subsided, and the seas grew peaceful.
Think about boaters, caught unawares and surprised by the fury of nature the next time you feel the nighttime effects of Santa Ana winds while you are safely ashore. That is a nice night to be ashore, for sure!
— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
