Under Sail with Cap'n Mack

Even though I was reared exclusively on dry land, romancing the sea through books and movies was a boyhood passion: Treasure Island; Captain Blood; Horatio Hornblower; gallant Jack Aubrey in Master and Commander… Like a deck sponge, I soaked up all those swashbuckling adventures on the high seas. But I’m still a landlubber. Terry, on the other hand, was sailing on Long Island Sound as a teenager. Her father had picked up an 18-foot sailboat on the cheap (there was a big hole in the hull), and once the vessel was seaworthy, he allowed the kids to take it out sailing—after they had passed the Coast Guard basic skills course as you would expect. Aye, matey, they be sailor kids. So, while I was reading Master and Commander, Terry was living it. 

“Pack a bag,” Terry announced late in July. “I got us a sailboat. We’re going to Catalina Island.” 

Wait… What??

Indeed. We were sailing to Two Harbors on a 40-foot ketch called the Amethyst. Mack Steagall would be our skipper. He owns the boat. Heaven knows where Terry got the idea (I think she found him by googling “Pirate ship for hire”). But five days later, bright and early, we were climbing aboard in Marina del Rey. Arrrg!

Okay, maybe Cap’n Mack isn’t a buccaneer, but he was wellnigh raised at sea. His parents were avid sailors. He sailed solo for the first time at the age of three. It’s in his DNA. I was struck by his wealth of experience, having had his hand over the years in most trades found in a boat yard: marine engine mechanic; carpenter; welder; painter; plumber; electronics whiz… Now he’s a licensed Master Mariner, captain of his own destiny. Oh, and he’s also a violin virtuoso (first chair in high school and college orchestras) and played on the Motels’ hit, “Only The Lonely.” A bona fide Renaissance Man.

Rounding out the crew of the Amethyst was Cap’n Mack’s wife, Ning. She normally doesn’t accompany Mack on chartered excursions but made an exception this time to get out of the office. Not a bad deal. She procured all the food for the trip and assisted Mack in the galley to serve up scrumptious meals. We didn’t lift a finger for three days. They spoiled us. 

Hence we sailed out to Catalina, close to the wind with sheets taut. Time glided by effortlessly with wind and waves and the gentle pitch of the boat lulling us into a state of repose. We came upon harbor seals, dolphins, giant sunfish—and a shark. There were sunset dinners aboard the Amethyst. We snorkeled in emerald coves; rambled on island trails; stargazed; forgot about life on the mainland. Given that our summer vacation plans had been torpedoed by COVID, this little trip was a much needed and rewarding treat. And my sailor wife put it together in a day.    

֍  ֍  ֍

Cap’n Mack had Terry raise the sails once we were out of the harbor.

Ning at the helm.

A pod of dolphins crosses our path on the trip out.

    Land ho! Catalina Island dead ahead.

We anchored in Isthmus Cove for two nights. Unlike tony Avalon twelve miles down the coast, Isthmus and the tiny hamlet of Two Harbors have a low-profile vibe, more suited to pirates and folks who wish to kick back under the radar. Each day, at exactly 5:00 pm, the yachts at anchor tooted their air horns with gusto. This, I learned, was the signal commencing Happy Hour. Pass the rum, mate.

Our ride, the Amethyst. She’s forty feet long at the waterline, displacing fourteen tons; built in 1969; all wood construction, inside and out. When Mack first laid eyes on her back in 1997, she was languishing in a boat yard in wretched condition. Pigeons were nesting in her cabin. The mizzen mast was missing, as were the sails and most of the rigging. Guano from countless seagulls covered the teak decks; the hull paint was flaking away. Aye, she was a mess. But Cap’n Mack saw potential. In his own words: “I snapped her up for a paltry sum, due to the owner realizing his failure as a yachtsman.” Thus began a five-year project to restore the vessel to the classic elegance she deserves. Most everything was either replaced or rebuilt: water and fuel tanks; plumbing; electrical systems; engine; batteries… And then came the sanding and varnishing of all that wood—twelve coats of marine-grade high gloss Epifanes. Mack has been sailing the Amethyst up and down the coast for twenty years now. She has even starred in a movie (Mama Mia 2).  

A peaceful evening in Isthmus Cove.

A selfie from my bunk. I was the official photographer and raconteur of the voyage. 

Exploring the coast in the Amethyst’s dinghy. 

Indian Rock, a popular dive and snorkeling area.

Endless potential for snorkeling. We should've done more of it.

My standoff with a ferocious garibaldi (to the whistling of “The Good, Bad, and the Ugly”). The camera battery died soon after this shot, so no pics of the attack. 

Some people brought the whole family.

All is good at Two Harbors’ one and only bar.

Mack gave us a hiking tour around Catalina (Cat) Harbor on the windward side of the isthmus, sharing childhood accounts of sailing here with his parents. He and his sister, Franja, would play in the hills and coves until their mother raised a signal flag to return to the boat. As a teenager, he hunted wild boar with his dad; made bonfires on the beach; explored the wreck of the Ningpo, an 18th century Chinese junk that sunk in Cat Bay almost a century ago… Mack had a cargo of fascinating yarns.

Cat Harbor became a popular filming locale for swashbuckler epics in the silent movie era. Sadly, most of the vintage 19th century sailing ships used in those movies lie at the bottom of the bay, sunk or burned, some by accident, some intentionally.

Battle scene from Old Ironsides (1926), filmed in Cat Harbor.

Silent movie stars, Anders Randolf and Douglas Fairbanks in The Black Pirate (1926)

The barracks of Camp Santa Catalina, built in 1864 to house federal troops stationed in Two Harbors during the Civil War. Nicely restored, it has been the home of the Isthmus Yacht Club for the past seventy years. 

The one-room Little Red Schoolhouse served the elementary grade students in Two Harbors. With only about 150 year-round residents, there were never more than two dozen kids in attendance. But as time went on, those numbers dwindled until the school closed in 2014. Now all the students, K-12, are bussed to Avalon twenty miles away via gravel-dirt road.

You can still ring the school bell.

The Banning House sits on a knoll with a commanding view of both Isthmus Cove and Cat Harbor. It was built in 1909 by Joseph Banning, who, along with his brothers, William and Hancock, owned Catalina Island at the time. The brothers would eventually sell the island to William Wrigley, but Joseph kept the house as a summer retreat for many years. Today it’s operated as a bed-and-breakfast inn. (We stayed here once. Can’t beat the view!)   

A final run down the coast before sunset.

Two Harbors/Isthmus Cove in the distance.

    Sunday brunch in Emerald Bay.

When it was time to weigh anchor and make sail for the mainland, I volunteered to man the capstan. Blow me down, what a workout! Cranking up fifty feet of heavy chain and anchor is no easy task. To help me keep a rhythm going, Cap’n Mack sang “The Drunken Sailor,” an old anchor-raising shanty from the Age of Sail... 

        What will we do with a drunken sailor,

        What will we do with a drunken sailor,

        What will we do with a drunken sailor,

        Earl-eye in the morning.

        Way hay, and up she rises,

        Way hay, and up she rises,

        Way hay, and up she rises,

        Earl-eye in the morning.    

On and on, you get the drift. Fifty. Feet.

    On the return trip, we sailed directly into a super-pod of dolphins.

Dolphins dolphins everywhere! I would guess several hundred in all.