I just completed a trip over to Catalina on my M-17 "Star Cross'd". My first long trip with a purpose. My son was going to be with his Boy Scout troop at Emerald Bay, so rather than paying for the normal Catalina Flyer, I resolved to sail over there. I would be staying the week also as an assistant Scoutmaster. We got away on Sunday at 6:45 AM, motoring out of Marina Del Rey. The sea was windless with light glassy swells, no wind chop, so we had to motor for several hours. I was concerned about my fuel consumption, never having used my 4 HP Johnson two-stroke for actually getting somewhere, so I kept it at 50% power and we went about 3.5 knots. Eventually a light breeze came up, and we were close-hauled. As the day progressed, the breeze increased. About 11 AM, I was able to turn off the motor for good. Somewhere past the Palos Verdes peninsula, about 12 PM, with the boat doing 5+ knots in the increasing swell, chop, and wind, I had to go forward and pull down the 150% genoa and put up the working jib. Many thanks to my 13 yr old son, who can now reliably steer the boat while I do the sailhandling. I had installed jacklines, and we wore harnesses, but that's scant comfort when I was up there wedged into the pulpit, with a pitching and heaving bow, with 3000 ft of water underneath in the San Pedro Channel. How I wished I had installed lifelines. The sail change lasted us for a while, but by 1:30 PM, with half the Channel crossed, I tucked in the first reef on the main. As we approached Emerald Bay, the sea, whitecaps, and wind increased, along with the boat motion. We were doing 5.2 knots, and remembering the old maxim, "If you're wondering if you should reef, you should", I tucked in the second reef. First time ever. With one child in the boat, and a wife and daughter at home, I played it safe. I've never been in such seas before, on any sailboat, and not knowing know tender or tough Star Cross'd was in such conditions, I resolved to keep the boat motion below my anxiety level. Even so, we were still doing 5.2 knots (measured by GPS). I tried to keep a brave and confident face for my son. He seemed unconcerned, I hope because he had confidence in me. I kept telling him that this wind and sea was caused by the wind piling up and pouring around the West End of Catalina Island, and that as we got closer, it would diminish. Even so, I was mentally getting ready to go forward and pull down the jib, and put up the 95% jib stored below. It wasn't until we were practically upon Emerald Bay, 200 yds out, in the shadow of Arrow Point and Howland's Point, that the sea and wind calmed. Well, whew, that was fun, and we were soon resting on a mooring and switching to Scout mode, ferrying our stuff off the boat. Total crossing time 8 hrs 15 minutes, for 30 nautical miles, from first motion to picking up the mooring. On the following Saturday, the return trip was very pleasant. We were away later, at 9:30 AM. It was a cool, bright and sunny day, very clear, with 25 nm visibility, an absolutely perfect day for sailing. No need for GPS today, no fog worries, just keep it on a 348 deg heading and we'll be home. As soon as we were out of the bay, I could turn off the motor, and we did 4+ knots on a full main and the jib. The sea was relatively calm, and we quickly, in several hours, scooted across the San Pedro Channel. At first the wind was strong, but as we got farther from Catalina, the wind eased a bit, confirming my theory. I had to tack for about 10 minutes to let a big freighter pass in front of me. We saw several dolphins surface to check us out, but I guess we didn't have anything of interest to them (not going fast enough to ride our bow waves, I guess), so they vanished beneath the waves. As we passed the Palos Verdes peninsula, the winds and seas increased. We were more on a broad reach now, but the winds were never as strong as the outgoing leg, so I stifled my doubts and resolved to keep the main up and get used to this rolly motion, going sideways to the swells. Past Palos Verdes, the wind eased so much that I eventually was forced to start motor-sailing. But within about ten minutes, we were back up over 5 knots, so I turned it off and let Boreas do his magic. One thing I noticed. On a broad reach, with the northwest swells sideways to the boat, occasionally pounding of the hull on the back side of a swell, the occasional bumping of the centerboard in its trunk, sailing a Montgomery is not a quiet experience. My son managed to sleep a good portion of this in the cabin, but eventually it was too much even for him, and he came out to nap on the cockpit seat. As we drew closer to MDR, the wind and seas kept increasing, but we were so close that I just let it be and let the boat do its thing. Even so, they were never as strong as the trip over to Catalina. We were tied up at the launch ramp at 5:20 PM, just a little under 8 hours. Total fuel burn of less than two gallons for less than 5 hours of motoring. Woo-hoo, my first coastal cruise was successfully completed. As soon as I get the film developed, I'll scan in the pictures and post them here. Many thanks to Lyle Hess and Jerry Montgomery for the fabulous M-17, that brought my son and I safely to Catalina and back. (One other note: If you ignore the Marina and mooring fussing, it's clear to me that a M-17 with good winds is capable of 100 nm in 24 hours. I suppose that if I had launched from San Pedro instead of MDR, the trip would have been more like 5-6 hours, with a 20+ nm distance. Maybe that's how I'll get the wife and daughter to go next time. We'll sail to Avalon for a long weekend.) Regards, John Fleming '82 M-17: #357, "Star Cross'd"