Oct 2005 Palacios and Matagorda Bay Sail

Article By Noel Nichols


This was brewing for six months since the Magnolia messabout, a repeat of last years' raid on Palacios. A memorable trip marked by a twice broken tiller leading to a beaching of one boat, a gybe leading to another boat broaching and leaving for home, two lost boys on sunfish forced to spend a miserable night bitten by mosquitos wrapped in their sails, one boat with a broken mast on the way back, and Captain Chris with a crew so seasick they walked in from Palacios point along the beach. Myself, I got the halyard wrapped at the beginning of the second day and nearly drifted to Port O'Conner before slowly making my way back. I got back at the same time as Chris and by that time the rest were long gone. I got to drive home, Chris and Andrew turned around and took the trailer back for their boat finally getting on the road at midnight. So this year had to be better, if not it should be memorable. Bill Tosh got things rolling and the names slowly came forward. It was on, but as it built so people came up with reasons why not. There was this buying a house thing, wives are pregnant, and then the age bias towards the senior set shows up as illness and hospitals take their toll. If I hadn't been proved mortal a few years back I would have squawked. But finally it comes down to Paddling John and me. John and I are working on the where to and when until he check his boat to find the gooseneck broken. So I have Thursday and Friday and no-one to play with until I get a golf tournament lined up. So then Louis pipes up for Thursday and now I'm standing him up. So Louis potters around Thursday and I drive down Thursday night. You may know how late these things run so it was 8:30 before I hooked up for the run down, and 12:30 when I pulled into the Luther. They were quite polite for being roused at half past midnight, I was intrigued by a hotel that was a charming place to stay, but the sink faucet leaked, and it looked to have been like that for months if not longer. I slept in till 7 (which is way late for me) and got breakfast and then wandered down to the ramp to meet Louis. As I got there he had completed breakfast and was changing to start the day in clean clothes. Always every inch a Marine. So then I took a while dropping the boat in the water and rigging the boat. We met a friendly Okie with a Compac 19, he and his wife had been down for a month of sailing. They joined us as we ran out and were in and out of contact as we ran down in the morning. There are jelly fish, they are thick, bumping the centerboard, the tiller and the outboard. It is not an option to go overboard this trip, a lifevest would prolong the inevitable instead of allowing you a gentle swim in to the shore.



After a while it was just the two of us, and continued the run downwind to Oyster Bay. We went looking at the entrance under the bridge, most intriguing but I was close to grounding. By 12:30 we were anchored and rafted up for a leisurely 2 lunch break and BS session. Then we get to deciding where to go. Well the point really is not that far, last years overnight spot was not that far either, and not that enticing, so Louis talks me into Bird Island. That was Shortys target for last year till he went to the desert for his forty days and forty nihts in the wilderness. Now I had not got the chart, or a copy of that area, so Louis plots course and as we get going the gps predicts a 5:30 landfall. Nightfall is around 7 so we have a bit of time to spare for plan B. But then as we get close (under 2 miles) I stand up and look around and see nada, nothing, zippo. Alone we are, in the middle of the bay, a couple of wellheads for company. Colonel say I "should we not be in view?" After a telling pause he charts the new position as four miles off. Lesson - always have another check yur figgering. It's 5:30 and now we are having almost no wind, I am making 1 to 1.5 knots. Louis in his Compac 16 has been holding up for me all day as my Cortez 16 potters along. So on my suggestion we fire up the horses and motorsail it. As we go we cross the Intercoastal with some barges larger than the island we are heading for. Most grateful for the motor, definitely check the tank before dancing with the big boys.

We get to Bird Island. Now, as I just said, this was Shortys' brilliant idea for last year. I have to report large signs surrounding it with strict prohibition against any landing. BAD deal, close to dark we have no chance to go go anywhere. To avoid any Tsunamis we are on the north shore. We had a glorious sail down, but the night anchored off the north shore exposed us to the northeast wind. I throw out an anchor out, way out and talk Louis into setting my downwind anchor so close to the shore he grounds. Lesson - do not anchor fore and aft in the open, the moment the wind changes you are in for an uncomfortable night waaay uncomfortable. Lesson three: if your friend is kind enough to set your anchor so close to the shore that he grounds his boat, even if with the boards up yours runs shallower, getting it out in the morning with the blue turtle will be touch and go. And trying to reset an anchor at night should not be done. It is foolish and dangerous when alone. You sit out on the foredeck in the dark with no pulpit or lifelines and that thought comes to you. You keep one hand for you and one for the boat, and you know you are alive, so very alive. And the jellyfish are still down there. Then in the morning recovering the anchor I am awfully close to the beach, the seagull 40 kept stalling as it hit the sand bottom. I was very close to being blown on that lee shore we are expressly forbidden to set foot on. And the jellyfish are with us. I had not got much more than two pieces of bread for breakfast. With the boat jumping a couple of feet sideways to the waves any attempt to prepare food had me nauseaous. Now Louis had one anchor out and was more comfortable, not a lot, but he did get a cup of coffee. I would have been amazed if I could have started the stove, terrified to have had boiling water around, and had no heart for the bacon and eggs I was planning on. Anyhoo despite all that I got some sleep (if you keep your eyes closed it counts) by 8 we motor out for a while. At this point a northwest wind threatened to blow us down on the island, and then the ICW needed clearing. But then the next passage to Caranchua bay was a great run, if leisurely. Passed a number of commercial workboats but there were no leisure craft. Got real close to a work crew with two boats on a wellhead, no interference, and also a number of working shrimp boats. We arrived around 1:30. In all of this Louis is making circles around me so he does not just flat run out of sight. By the way Bill, the rake on the mast did help, and I believe makes the boat a lot more stable. I was also able to set the boat so it ran along with me moving about, no spinning off line in ten seconds. But I want more.



So anyway Louis is piddling around getting close to the beach on the south entrance of the Caranchua Bay. We had been heading for a point north of it, but by bearing off I had made much better time. It looks beautiful we are in a glorious spot with not a soul for miles on the south end of the entrance, golden sand, green fringe of grass, but I ground Lesson four: if you have a depth meter - set the damn alarm, that is what it is for. So I spend the better part of an hour backing away to the northeast to find some deeper water which gets difficult as the mouth of the Charanchua has a lot of shallow (for my rudder) water. Which is the reason why I was heading for the north side of the bay. The jellyfish are still thick. So it is past two, so then what. Since it is so shallow, I was not aware that closer in Louis was trying to shove off from his own grounding. It is past two and we ought to find an anchorage for the night. But since it we have no candidate close we skip lunch and run back to Palacios. Great run, beauty day. Wind at the northeast moved to the east north east finally allowed a close reach back in one shot. Made it back by 5:30 and had supper at the outrigger.

40 plus nautical miles in (I had 44 but lose some for the circling etc) two days, Louis had it as 46 statute.

Thanks Louis, it was GREAAAT