Daydreamer
SAILOR
Looks wonderful and isolated.
Any other boats around?
What a fun adventure!
Any other boats around?
What a fun adventure!
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Cheers - Bryan
What I Saw
- Thread starter Philpott
- Start date
Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
Hi, Greg! Nice to hear from you! There were usually one or two other sailboats in the anchorages I visited. September and October are considered good times to sail the coast. This time, unfortunately, with few exceptions, the air was dirty and the fog was thick. But that's the way of nature. Regardless, the anchorages were there for everyone and everybody (except the loud people on that one party boat from the mainland), seemed to be appreciating the anchorages for purposes of respite (San Simeon, Avila Beach, Cojo) or peace and freedom (everywhere else).
Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
"Begin at the beginning ... and go on till you come to the end: then stop."
When I decided to travel down the coast on Dura Mater I was nervous about sleeping aboard while sailing solo. Yes, I have the Standard Horizon GX 2200 radio with AIS and GPS. And yes, I know how it works. It works very well, too.
I have learned to identify DM as the little triangle in the middle, and other boats with their radar on, as the little critters surrounding her on the screen. I know how to tell whether they’re 5 nm or less away, how to adjust the range to determine where those other boats are located and which way they are headed: toward us or away? I also know how to turn on the approach alarm, and even how to turn it off. It is so loud! But I have never felt comfortable sleeping aboard, not even with that reliable technology. Because it’s not the big ships I’m worried about: It’s those other few solo sailors out there. You people.
This fear was confirmed when Brad Belleville on his boat encore! and me on Dura Mater found ourselves passing each other, in dense fog, as we transited Pt Arguello. Go figure. I thought he might be out there somewhere, but VHF communication proved sketchy. So I called Brad on my cell phone and: There he was, clear as day! Well, hello! Such a surprise!
Although we couldn’t reach anybody else, we were able to communicate with each other by cell. And, according to our coordinates, even though we couldn’t see each other, we found ourselves less than ¼ nm from each other, encore! headed north, Dura Mater going south. So that was sobering. He was motoring north with his wife, Cheryl, and they were able to take turns at watch, but still.
Two legs of the trip made me nervous: the trip from Monterey to San Simeon and then from Pt San Luis to Cojo. So, I decided that I would stay awake the whole time. I asked Skip if this was possible. As you can imagine, he rolled his eyes. But he said, “Yes. It’s possible.”
In preparation I provisioned with espresso coffee and dark chocolate covered espresso beans.
Oh, and steel cut oatmeal. That won’t really keep you awake, but I cooked up a big batch, ate it first thing, set the pot into DM’s galley sink and finished it off … at the end of the two legs. If you don’t like oatmeal that might not work for you, but it worked for me.
I also stayed out of the shipping lanes and kept watch over my AIS screen. Turns out I only saw one other ship on my screen: The sailing vessel HINA, off to starboard all the way down to San Simeon. And apparently HINA saw me off to their port, and DM showed up on their radar with my little tubular passive radar just below the starboard spreader.
We laughed about it when we finally met up in Morro Bay. Glen and Barbara Birkvold have sold their house in Everett, Washington, quit their jobs and bought a gorgeous Morgan 45. What is next for them? No idea, but while they decide they’re sailing down the coast of California with Mexico as their destination. That’s one big, beautiful boat. I heard it referred to as a “furniture boat”.
Glen fished for salmon with his grandfather up in Alaska when he was a kid, so he knows his way around boats and engines and everything else you probably need to know about if you’re going to live aboard.
Later on, just before I left Little Scorpion Anchorage, we touched base by phone again. Here is HINA at anchor. Neighbors again, if only briefly.
When I decided to travel down the coast on Dura Mater I was nervous about sleeping aboard while sailing solo. Yes, I have the Standard Horizon GX 2200 radio with AIS and GPS. And yes, I know how it works. It works very well, too.
I have learned to identify DM as the little triangle in the middle, and other boats with their radar on, as the little critters surrounding her on the screen. I know how to tell whether they’re 5 nm or less away, how to adjust the range to determine where those other boats are located and which way they are headed: toward us or away? I also know how to turn on the approach alarm, and even how to turn it off. It is so loud! But I have never felt comfortable sleeping aboard, not even with that reliable technology. Because it’s not the big ships I’m worried about: It’s those other few solo sailors out there. You people.
This fear was confirmed when Brad Belleville on his boat encore! and me on Dura Mater found ourselves passing each other, in dense fog, as we transited Pt Arguello. Go figure. I thought he might be out there somewhere, but VHF communication proved sketchy. So I called Brad on my cell phone and: There he was, clear as day! Well, hello! Such a surprise!
Although we couldn’t reach anybody else, we were able to communicate with each other by cell. And, according to our coordinates, even though we couldn’t see each other, we found ourselves less than ¼ nm from each other, encore! headed north, Dura Mater going south. So that was sobering. He was motoring north with his wife, Cheryl, and they were able to take turns at watch, but still.
Two legs of the trip made me nervous: the trip from Monterey to San Simeon and then from Pt San Luis to Cojo. So, I decided that I would stay awake the whole time. I asked Skip if this was possible. As you can imagine, he rolled his eyes. But he said, “Yes. It’s possible.”
In preparation I provisioned with espresso coffee and dark chocolate covered espresso beans.
Oh, and steel cut oatmeal. That won’t really keep you awake, but I cooked up a big batch, ate it first thing, set the pot into DM’s galley sink and finished it off … at the end of the two legs. If you don’t like oatmeal that might not work for you, but it worked for me.
I also stayed out of the shipping lanes and kept watch over my AIS screen. Turns out I only saw one other ship on my screen: The sailing vessel HINA, off to starboard all the way down to San Simeon. And apparently HINA saw me off to their port, and DM showed up on their radar with my little tubular passive radar just below the starboard spreader.
We laughed about it when we finally met up in Morro Bay. Glen and Barbara Birkvold have sold their house in Everett, Washington, quit their jobs and bought a gorgeous Morgan 45. What is next for them? No idea, but while they decide they’re sailing down the coast of California with Mexico as their destination. That’s one big, beautiful boat. I heard it referred to as a “furniture boat”.
Glen fished for salmon with his grandfather up in Alaska when he was a kid, so he knows his way around boats and engines and everything else you probably need to know about if you’re going to live aboard.
Later on, just before I left Little Scorpion Anchorage, we touched base by phone again. Here is HINA at anchor. Neighbors again, if only briefly.
dolfinbill
New member
What I "almost" saw
By some strange coincidence both Morning Star and Dolfin are straddling the Isthmus in Catalina Island. Lee has anchored in Cat Harbor for a well deserved rest on the way up to the Channel Islands while I'm on the other (good) side anchored near the camp beach. From Lee's tracker I knew he was in the channel between San Clemente Island and Catalina so I rowed ashore and hiked the 6 miles to Little Harbor to maybe see him sail by. I stumbled into the campground 2+ hours later and all I could see was fog. We texted back and forth and Lee said he had already anchored in Cat Harbor so I then took off on the Trans Catalina Trail (never go back the same way) and ended back at the Isthmus nearly three hours later, dehydrated and hungry. This photo is halfway and shows the different worlds on both sides of the Island.
After dining on Gatorade and Cherry Garcia I took off on the Cat Harbor trail to try and get a shot of Morning Star. The pitiful excuse for a photo is a result of my shaky tired body and ancient I-phone plus Lee being anchored on the other side of the harbor. Oh well, I tried - I really did.
Lee leaves tomorrow for Santa Cruz or Santa Rosa and maybe a rendezvous with Jackie on Dura Mater but social distance is critical as Lee is self quarantining for 14 days before setting sail for Hawaii.
Bill Meanley
Dolfin, Crealock 37
By some strange coincidence both Morning Star and Dolfin are straddling the Isthmus in Catalina Island. Lee has anchored in Cat Harbor for a well deserved rest on the way up to the Channel Islands while I'm on the other (good) side anchored near the camp beach. From Lee's tracker I knew he was in the channel between San Clemente Island and Catalina so I rowed ashore and hiked the 6 miles to Little Harbor to maybe see him sail by. I stumbled into the campground 2+ hours later and all I could see was fog. We texted back and forth and Lee said he had already anchored in Cat Harbor so I then took off on the Trans Catalina Trail (never go back the same way) and ended back at the Isthmus nearly three hours later, dehydrated and hungry. This photo is halfway and shows the different worlds on both sides of the Island.
After dining on Gatorade and Cherry Garcia I took off on the Cat Harbor trail to try and get a shot of Morning Star. The pitiful excuse for a photo is a result of my shaky tired body and ancient I-phone plus Lee being anchored on the other side of the harbor. Oh well, I tried - I really did.
Lee leaves tomorrow for Santa Cruz or Santa Rosa and maybe a rendezvous with Jackie on Dura Mater but social distance is critical as Lee is self quarantining for 14 days before setting sail for Hawaii.
Bill Meanley
Dolfin, Crealock 37
What a great photo! That would be excellent hiking, especially with the Cherry Garcia at the end!
Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
That's a fabulous photo, Bill!
Dura Mater is being driven up by my friend, Ichiro. Ichiro found her for me in 2012 in the Berkeley Marina. They were last on the tracker in San Simeon, but I suspect they are closing in on Monterey just now. I'm high and dry in Oakland. It would have been great to have met up, but we stopped at Santa Barbara. Next time we'll go with a dinghy. See you in Hanalei Bay?
Dura Mater is being driven up by my friend, Ichiro. Ichiro found her for me in 2012 in the Berkeley Marina. They were last on the tracker in San Simeon, but I suspect they are closing in on Monterey just now. I'm high and dry in Oakland. It would have been great to have met up, but we stopped at Santa Barbara. Next time we'll go with a dinghy. See you in Hanalei Bay?
dolfinbill
New member
I have to confess that the stuff (fog) on the left moved over to the right the next day, making my trip back down to White's pretty spooky (couldn't even see the island, just radar). Saturday I made the 75 mile passage back to SD in mostly clear conditions until the last three hours when it really got socked in and radar and luck were huge. Thankfully it cleared up a mile offshore and 14 hours later I'm back in my slip at SDYC (some of the worst fog I've ever experienced) and there is a message from Skip, who was just a half mile from the Isthmus at Howland's Landing. Too late for me but then I got a text from Lee that he had just moved over to the "good" side of the island. I called him to say Skip was nearby and now they will both get together at Howland's, but without Dolfin and her crew. Oh well, I missed Dura Mater too but still had a great time in those too short five days.
As for Hanalei Bay, I'm really looking forward to it. Hopefully I have a credit at the Hanalei Inn, as we were not able to get a refund for Covid. Now that you have Dura Mater so well set up, maybe I will be able to greet your arrival at 3am in Hanalei Bay.
Bill Meanley
Dolfin, Crealock 37
As for Hanalei Bay, I'm really looking forward to it. Hopefully I have a credit at the Hanalei Inn, as we were not able to get a refund for Covid. Now that you have Dura Mater so well set up, maybe I will be able to greet your arrival at 3am in Hanalei Bay.
Bill Meanley
Dolfin, Crealock 37
Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
Whining in San Simeon Bay
As I finished my first, slow dash from Monterey around Big Sur to San Simeon, I failed to change out from Region14 to Region 12 on my chart plotter. Let me explain.
My chartplotter is the android-based MxMariner. It’s downloaded onto two tablets: a 10” RCA tablet and a 7” Nexus. When the batteries on one die I switch it out for the other, plugging the dead one into the usb port just under Dura Mater’s companionway.
MxMariner uses quilted offline raster marine charts from NOAA (the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration). Raster charts for the Pacific coast of California are different according to Coast Guard Regions. Region 14 represents California north of Big Sur to Cape Flattery (San Francisco/Monterey) while Region 12 depicts central California to the Mexican border.
I didn’t understand the significance of the different regions until after I entered San Simeon in the dark. In dense fog. Wow was it dense. And it was really dark.
In the Region 14 chart I usually use when sailing in Monterey Bay, Half Moon Bay and the San Francisco Bay, I am able to zoom in to determine contours and depths in those areas. Once I sailed past Point Sur, though, I entered Region 12. In that fog it was kind of like entering the Twilight Zone.
So, still using the Region 14 chart, as I approached San Simeon Bay I found on my chart plotter only a crude approximation of the entrance. It looked like this:
I was unable to further zoom in order to discern where was the spit of rocks along its northwest boundary? It was dark with no moon and (did I mention?) dense fog, and it freaked me out!
Luckily there was little wind as we approached the bay. I couldn’t see further than Dura Mater’s bow. So I pulled down the main, turned off the engine and went up to sit on the bow with my trusty Pelagic remote doohickey. We continued under jib alone.
I tried using my super duper flashlight, which just reflected the fog’s big drops back at me. When I could hear surf crashing on the rocks I stumbled back to the cockpit, turned the engine on and turned to starboard. I decided that motoring away from surf was the best we could do under the circumstances.
Luckily, as we entered the bay I could see a dim single anchor light already in there. So I motored downwind of that light and dropped anchor. It had taken us fifteen hours to sail from Monterey to San Simeon. Except for about twenty minutes of Big Sur, we had been totally fogged in the entire time. I was really tired.
Amazingly, after having none all day, I had perfectly clear cell service in San Simeon Bay. So I called Skip and whined. Then I called Bob J and whined.
Bob explained about the different types of coordinates; between degrees, minutes and seconds and isn’t it cool how you can look at a chart of the earth and find yourself? Huh.
“Thank you very much for your patience. Bye bye, gotta go.”
Skip asked me to confirm that I had paper charts. I lied and said, “Yes” and he walked me through how to locate myself on the one I pretended to peruse. Huh.
“Thank you very much for your patience. Bye bye, gotta go.”
Then I looked in the Settings section of MxMariner and found … “Well, hello there!” Region 12: Which I opened to find … in all its glorious and deep zoomable detail, the coastline of Central and Southern California. And too late for the beating of my heart, this is what the entrance to San Simeon looks like in the Raster chart of Region 12:
I texted Bob and Skip:
“I just found a s ca chart on my mx mariner for the coast s of pt sur. All is copacetic!”
Thank you, fellas, for calmly talking me down while I wailed: “I just want to see my little red boat moving on the screen!”
Thank you, Ray Irvine, for tracking me everywhere Jibeset could follow:
To celebrate I ate a Lindt’s dark chocolate and coconut bar. And then I could finally crawl into my sleeping bag to sleep.
Next morning we broke out the pre-cooked bacon, brown eggs and coffee. Just to celebrate being there in a beautiful place.
San Simeon was lovely and we stayed another night. Anchored in a safe harbor. So wonderful!
As I finished my first, slow dash from Monterey around Big Sur to San Simeon, I failed to change out from Region14 to Region 12 on my chart plotter. Let me explain.
My chartplotter is the android-based MxMariner. It’s downloaded onto two tablets: a 10” RCA tablet and a 7” Nexus. When the batteries on one die I switch it out for the other, plugging the dead one into the usb port just under Dura Mater’s companionway.
MxMariner uses quilted offline raster marine charts from NOAA (the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration). Raster charts for the Pacific coast of California are different according to Coast Guard Regions. Region 14 represents California north of Big Sur to Cape Flattery (San Francisco/Monterey) while Region 12 depicts central California to the Mexican border.
I didn’t understand the significance of the different regions until after I entered San Simeon in the dark. In dense fog. Wow was it dense. And it was really dark.
In the Region 14 chart I usually use when sailing in Monterey Bay, Half Moon Bay and the San Francisco Bay, I am able to zoom in to determine contours and depths in those areas. Once I sailed past Point Sur, though, I entered Region 12. In that fog it was kind of like entering the Twilight Zone.
So, still using the Region 14 chart, as I approached San Simeon Bay I found on my chart plotter only a crude approximation of the entrance. It looked like this:
I was unable to further zoom in order to discern where was the spit of rocks along its northwest boundary? It was dark with no moon and (did I mention?) dense fog, and it freaked me out!
Luckily there was little wind as we approached the bay. I couldn’t see further than Dura Mater’s bow. So I pulled down the main, turned off the engine and went up to sit on the bow with my trusty Pelagic remote doohickey. We continued under jib alone.
I tried using my super duper flashlight, which just reflected the fog’s big drops back at me. When I could hear surf crashing on the rocks I stumbled back to the cockpit, turned the engine on and turned to starboard. I decided that motoring away from surf was the best we could do under the circumstances.
Luckily, as we entered the bay I could see a dim single anchor light already in there. So I motored downwind of that light and dropped anchor. It had taken us fifteen hours to sail from Monterey to San Simeon. Except for about twenty minutes of Big Sur, we had been totally fogged in the entire time. I was really tired.
Amazingly, after having none all day, I had perfectly clear cell service in San Simeon Bay. So I called Skip and whined. Then I called Bob J and whined.
Bob explained about the different types of coordinates; between degrees, minutes and seconds and isn’t it cool how you can look at a chart of the earth and find yourself? Huh.
“Thank you very much for your patience. Bye bye, gotta go.”
Skip asked me to confirm that I had paper charts. I lied and said, “Yes” and he walked me through how to locate myself on the one I pretended to peruse. Huh.
“Thank you very much for your patience. Bye bye, gotta go.”
Then I looked in the Settings section of MxMariner and found … “Well, hello there!” Region 12: Which I opened to find … in all its glorious and deep zoomable detail, the coastline of Central and Southern California. And too late for the beating of my heart, this is what the entrance to San Simeon looks like in the Raster chart of Region 12:
I texted Bob and Skip:
“I just found a s ca chart on my mx mariner for the coast s of pt sur. All is copacetic!”
Thank you, fellas, for calmly talking me down while I wailed: “I just want to see my little red boat moving on the screen!”
Thank you, Ray Irvine, for tracking me everywhere Jibeset could follow:
To celebrate I ate a Lindt’s dark chocolate and coconut bar. And then I could finally crawl into my sleeping bag to sleep.
Next morning we broke out the pre-cooked bacon, brown eggs and coffee. Just to celebrate being there in a beautiful place.
San Simeon was lovely and we stayed another night. Anchored in a safe harbor. So wonderful!
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Intermission
Member
I took paper charts, and encore! also came with northern and southern california chart books, but I mostly used my Garmin 76Cx GPS, which showed a buoy near the entrance to San Simeon. Maybe it was an old pt. san simeon buoy? (the 76Cx is at least eleven years old) Whichever buoy it once was, it was no longer standing watch; both times coming in, and both times leaving, we never saw any trace of it.
At both Coho and Cuyler, the 76Cx showed little anchor symbols, but I don't remember if there was one at San Simeon, and the GPS is in Alameda. There probably was for san simeon too.
At Morro, the fog was so thick, as we came in, on the way down, that we used the GPS to go from red buoy to red buoy; we couldn't see the next mark till the hard starboard past the rock. We didn't even see the rock.
At both Coho and Cuyler, the 76Cx showed little anchor symbols, but I don't remember if there was one at San Simeon, and the GPS is in Alameda. There probably was for san simeon too.
At Morro, the fog was so thick, as we came in, on the way down, that we used the GPS to go from red buoy to red buoy; we couldn't see the next mark till the hard starboard past the rock. We didn't even see the rock.
BobJ
Alerion 38 "Surprise!"
I'm still trying to get a handle on this whole provisioning thing. Did the Diesel Power Plus go in your coffee?
Okay, so I'll tell you MY story about using a chart to get into a harbor after you're already in the harbor.
No... no I won't. It's too embarrassing.
Okay, so I'll tell you MY story about using a chart to get into a harbor after you're already in the harbor.
No... no I won't. It's too embarrassing.
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Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
9.26.20 Saturday morning and it was time to leave Morro Bay for Port San Luis. We left the desireable tie up at the Morro Bay Yacht Club @ 0835 and headed out. As we exited the Harbor Patrol broadcast that the swell was increasing, which meant that the entrance might be closed soon. Yes, that swell was big, and the entrance narrow. I suppose we were lucky to get out, because it was time to move on.
Skip recommended skipping Port San Luis because he didn't think I could physically drag up both my anchor and leftover automobiles, but I decided to give it a try. Heck, it would make for a good story. I forget what the forecast was but it seemed windy coming around Point Buchon, and the swell seemed steep at first, then slightly less so. That's what you get in the way of "conditions" from me.
The wind was "sporty" until we turned around the corner and were well into Port San Luis' channel, where it calmed down. Then heat from the arid land hit us like a blast from an open oven. It was a stark and remarkable change.
The Harbor Patrol in Port San Luis didn't answer on VHF channel 12, but then I hailed them on channel 16 and they asked if I was in distress.
"No, I just want directions."
They asked if I wanted a mooring ball for $18/ night or if I preferred to anchor.
"I don't know how to catch a mooring ball so I guess I'll anchor," was my response, so they told me to continue on past their pier in order to anchor "between the wooden and the metal piers." Where were these piers? I had no idea.
"Okay," I said, then we went off to find the piers.
Consulted the newly discovered Region 12 chart plotter and there, around the corner, was Avila Beach, with its brightly colored umbrellas and loud, laughing children. Because, remember, it was the weekend. Anchor down at 1335.
Barbara and Glen on the Morgan 45 s/v HINA had come in right behind me and we chatted over cell phone. There were many many people laughing and running around on the beach next to Avila Pier. It seemed very festive and pleasant: dare I say? Pre-covidish.
Once I was securely anchored and ready to relax, the fella downwind of me politely indicated that DM and I were too close to his bow. I could tell that he was not happy with the new neighbor because he stood, shirtless, on the bow of his boat with his hands on his hips. When I waved he didn't wave back. He was too far away to converse, so I hailed him on channel 16:
"This is the sailing vessel Dura Mater. Do you read me?" I held the radio up and pointed to it.
He walked back to his own radio and we switched over to channel 9.
He informed me by radio that he himself had put down more than 200' of chain. I decided that was an indirect, new neighbor version of sharing the size of his Weber barbeque, so I said, "I have 30' of chain and 145' of rode."
Since we were in 26' of calm water, I thought that sounded prudent.
Although he didn't say so outright, his body language suggested that he didn't trust my anchoring acumen. I asked him if he wanted me to move, and he said, "Yes, please."
Huh. I do understand anchorage protocol, and he was there first, so I dragged everything up and circled around for awhile. Glen and Barbara were already anchored and making dinner in their fancy yacht. I felt like kvetching so I called them up.
Barbara said she couldn't talk because she was heating up the lasagna in the oven but she put Glen on speaker. I could almost smell that lasagna. Glen advised me, lounging in his cockpit, while DM and I motored around slowly for twenty minutes with the anchor hanging ready off the bow. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself and besides, I didn't want to have to do it all over again. I approached THE SPOT and inched forward. My cell phone was on speakerphone, resting behind me on the hatch door.
It's fun to involve other people in our adventures. Glen called over the cell's speakerphone:
"Five. Four. Three. Two. One. DROP!"
So I did and then we were anchored again, except we didn't have lasagna in the oven. We only had canned chili. They invited me over for dinner but I was too tired to socialize. He was very nice about having to wait for his dinner, and graciously informed me that I had picked such a great anchoring spot that he was jealous. Yeah, Glen is that kinda guy.
DM and I were comfortable there, and it is a calm anchorage with good holding. I would recommend it, notwithstanding autos in the water. I bathed with baby wipes, ate my chili and crawled into the VBerth. DM and I liked Port San Luis, but we had to face the next leg of our journey: from Port San Luis around Point Arguello and then Point Conception.
The next morning I woke up before daybreak and pulled up the anchor. Port San Luis is pretty in the morning. I love early morning on the water. Here it is with two minutes in between:
I looked forward to wearing shorts and tshirts but I was prepared for the bash in between.
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Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
So there I was, pulling up the anchor after two very pleasant nights in San Simeon
when What the hell is this??!!**##: water cockroaches clung to the entire length of all 145' of my rode. Ick! Ick! I was wearing my heavy anchor pulling up gloves, but still! Eeeaaoooo! They didn't even fall off the rope, they just hung on for dear life. There were dozens and dozens of them. Big ones, little ones. They were settled in for the long haul.
It was a surprise and I decided to photograph one in order to ask my favorite bug guy, Rob MacFarlane, to identify them for us.
when What the hell is this??!!**##: water cockroaches clung to the entire length of all 145' of my rode. Ick! Ick! I was wearing my heavy anchor pulling up gloves, but still! Eeeaaoooo! They didn't even fall off the rope, they just hung on for dear life. There were dozens and dozens of them. Big ones, little ones. They were settled in for the long haul.
It was a surprise and I decided to photograph one in order to ask my favorite bug guy, Rob MacFarlane, to identify them for us.
tiger beetle
N/M 45 Tiger Beetle
That's a marine isopod. These are common, fun to observe run about, and harmless. Not sure exactly which genus it would be in.
- rob
Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
rob macfarlane
10:04 PM (16 minutes ago)
to me
"I try and put them back into the water when they come up on with anchor or get into the dinghy - they are cute!"
Thanks, Rob! Yes, cute until they start to crawl up the inside of your pants. Cute? Maybe to a bugologist.
10:04 PM (16 minutes ago)
to me
"I try and put them back into the water when they come up on with anchor or get into the dinghy - they are cute!"
Thanks, Rob! Yes, cute until they start to crawl up the inside of your pants. Cute? Maybe to a bugologist.
Philpott
Cal 2-27 Dura Mater
Actually, I didn't find that answer satisfying, so I kept looking. Turns out, MY bugs are synidotea laevidorsalis Yep
and this is why they were able to cling to my anchor rode and crawl up my pant leg, which was very disconcerting:
A marine isopod, Synidotea laevidorsalis must be submerged in water to breath, because its specialized breathing structures extract oxygen from water. Synidotea laevidorsalis can be found on boat-slip pylons among seaweed and hydroids; and it grows to about 2 cm in length. Like Ligia exotica, this isopod is a scavenger. The camouflage pattern on its body helps it to blend in with its environment, making it harder for hungry fish to pick it off of the seaweed. Also, it has tiny claws on each leg that help it cling to algae in the water, and it can swim between plants by flapping its paddle-shaped distal (positioned away from the central part of the body) appendages.
https://oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/explorations/04etta/background/isopods/isopods.html
eeeuuuuoooowwww
and this is why they were able to cling to my anchor rode and crawl up my pant leg, which was very disconcerting:
A marine isopod, Synidotea laevidorsalis must be submerged in water to breath, because its specialized breathing structures extract oxygen from water. Synidotea laevidorsalis can be found on boat-slip pylons among seaweed and hydroids; and it grows to about 2 cm in length. Like Ligia exotica, this isopod is a scavenger. The camouflage pattern on its body helps it to blend in with its environment, making it harder for hungry fish to pick it off of the seaweed. Also, it has tiny claws on each leg that help it cling to algae in the water, and it can swim between plants by flapping its paddle-shaped distal (positioned away from the central part of the body) appendages.
https://oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/explorations/04etta/background/isopods/isopods.html
eeeuuuuoooowwww
The absolutely is an isopod, but it looks like idotea resicata...the "eelgrass isopod" also sometimes called the "Kelp isopod" to me. Whatever the case, it's an idoteid.
These little peeps are interesting in that the females brood the eggs, stuck to the back of their tegmentum (exoskeleton) until they hatch.
...a factoid which I'm sure makes Jackie feel better.
These little peeps are interesting in that the females brood the eggs, stuck to the back of their tegmentum (exoskeleton) until they hatch.
...a factoid which I'm sure makes Jackie feel better.
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