Leaving the quiet coves of Catalina Island behind feels a little bittersweet, but there’s something exciting about heading back to the mainland—the busy shipping lanes, the buzz of Long Beach Harbor, and the comforts of a good marina. Our latest trip took us from the clear waters of Emerald Bay to the Belmont Moorings at White Island for our first-ever night there, before finally docking at Alamitos Bay Marina.
Our morning started in Emerald Bay, one of Catalina’s most beautiful anchorages. We woke to glassy water, kelp forests swaying beneath the surface, and the gentle sound of seabirds overhead and dolphins in the distance. After coffee we hauled anchor and set course for the mainland.
The San Pedro Channel can be deceiving—calm seas one moment, a steady parade of cargo ships the next. We had flat conditions for the 25-mile crossing: light wind out of the west, no swell, and clear skies. With AIS tracking the tankers and container ships crisscrossing the channel, we stayed well clear of the big traffic lanes and enjoyed the ride.
Soon the skyline of Long Beach came into view—the sprawling port cranes, cruise ships, and the familiar shape of the Queen Mary reminding us that civilization was just ahead.
First Night at Belmont Moorings – White Island
Before heading straight into the marina, we decided to try something new: grabbing a mooring ball at the Belmont Moorings near White Island, just off the Long Beach coastline.
It was our first time there, and the first time grabbing a mooring ball. The Belmont Moorings are well-marked and managed. On our first attempt we snagged the pennant, secured our mooring bridle, and settled in.
The location was fantastic—a perfect view of the Long Beach skyline at sunset, easy dinghy access to the beach, and a welcome spot to decompress after the crossing without heading straight into harbor traffic.
Morning Departure and Alamitos Bay Marina
The next morning, we cast off from the mooring and motored into the harbor. The approach to Alamitos Bay can be busy with small boat traffic, but once inside, the scene calms down. We tied up at the guest docks and went to the marina office to get our slip assignment.
Docking was smooth—wide fairways, clean docks, and end tie, and helpful marina staff made arrival easy. After securing the lines and plugging into shore power, it was time to relax and enjoy being tied up in one of the most convenient marinas in the area.
Final Thoughts
This trip had a little bit of everything: the tranquility of Emerald Bay, the open-water crossing, the challenge of grabbing a mooring at Belmont, and the ease of tying up at Los Alamitos Marina. It’s a great reminder of the diversity of SoCal sailing—one moment you’re anchored over a kelp forest, the next you’re navigating busy shipping lanes, and by day’s end, you’re watching city lights from your cockpit.
After months of managing our energy budget with a mix of engine charging, generator charging and solar, we finally upgraded our setup by adding two 100-watt solar panels to the top of our dodger. It’s one of those projects that instantly pays off—not just in amp hours, but in peace of mind.
Space is limited on our canoe stern boat, and the dodger offered a good, unused platform. The downside is it’s often partially shaded by the boom gallows and rigging for some of the day.
We chose rigid, marine-rated panels mounted on pieces of aluminum bar that follows the slight curve of our dodger’s top. They’re lightweight, low-profile, and blend in better than we expected.
We ran the wiring neatly down the side of the dodger frame using zip ties, then through a waterproof deck gland to connect with our existing charge controller. These new panels increased our total solar capacity, but our MPPT charge controller is sized correctly to handle it.
The difference was immediate. On a clear day, the two dodger panels contribute up to 10–11 amps during peak sun. Combined with our existing solar array, we’re now able to meet nearly all our daily energy needs—from refrigeration to autopilot to lights—without running the engine or generator. It’s made our mornings quieter, our batteries happier, and our cruising life more self-sufficient.
This upgrade was relatively straightforward and low-cost compared to the benefits. If you’re tight on solar space and have a solid dodger, this is a great way to increase your renewable energy generation. Just be mindful of shading and routing cables cleanly—take your time and do it right the first time. Your future self, sipping coffee in a quiet anchorage without the drone of a diesel engine, will thank you.
After spending over a week in Long Beach and visiting with family there, it was time to continue south. We left the marina in the afternoon and anchored near the mooring field at White Island so we could get an early start the next morning to head to Dana Point.
Nestled along the scenic Southern California coast, Dana Point Harbor offers more than just a charming marina and postcard-worthy views—it also has a little-known anchorage option inside the harbor that’s perfect for short-term stays. Whether you’re a local sailor looking for a weekend getaway or a cruiser exploring the Pacific coast, anchoring here can be a relaxing and convenient alternative to booking a slip.
Dana Point is known for its protected waters, easy access to shore amenities, and laid-back atmosphere. The anchorage area, located in the east basin near the bridge (just past the mooring fields), is relatively small but well-sheltered, making it a great spot for calm overnights.
Located at the back of the harbor, this is the preferred anchoring spot. Typically 15–25 ft deep with a soft mud bottom that holds well. Expect to use a 3:1 to 4:1 scope. Beware of swinging too close to the jetty and adjust scope as boats arrive later.
Conveniently close to docks and amenities, but noisy (bait barge generator), smelly, and bird-heavy. Also 15–20 ft deep with poor holding—only use if West Basin is full.
If you’re hunting swell and willing to paddle ashore, anchoring just outside the harbor (~500–1,000 yd outside entrance) provides a swell-riding anchorage with good sand holding. Keep clear of marked no-anchor zone.
While walking around Dana Point we kept seeing shirts and other memorabilia of Killer Dana. We had no idea what Killer Dana was so I had to look it up.
Killer Dana was a legendary surf break located off the coast of Dana Point, California. Known for its long, powerful right-hand waves that peeled across Dana Cove, Killer Dana attracted skilled surfers from around the region, particularly during big south swells. It was a wave that demanded respect — not only for its quality but also for the challenging conditions caused by its exposure to open ocean swells and lack of protection. Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, it held a mythical place in Southern California surf culture, offering rides that could stretch hundreds of yards and delivering the kind of consistent surf that made it a favorite among local and visiting wave riders alike.
However, the construction of the Dana Point Harbor in the late 1960s dramatically changed the landscape — and fate — of Killer Dana. As part of a major coastal development project, massive rock jetties were installed to create a protected harbor for recreational boating and commercial activity. This project effectively sealed off Dana Cove and destroyed the natural bathymetry that made Killer Dana break so perfectly. Once the harbor was completed in 1971, the wave was gone, submerged beneath calm harbor waters. The loss of Killer Dana is still mourned by surfers today as an example of how unchecked development can erase natural wonders. It stands as a cautionary tale about the long-term environmental and cultural costs of coastal engineering.
The city’s name honors Richard Henry Dana Jr., a Harvard-educated lawyer and sailor who chronicled his 1834 voyage aboard a merchant ship in his classic memoir Two Years Before the Mast. In the book, Dana vividly describes the coastal hide trade, particularly his time at what is now Dana Point, where sailors like him worked as hide droghers—laborers who tossed cattle hides down the cliffs to be loaded onto ships for trade.
He sailed aboard the Pilgrim from Boston around Cape Horn to the California coast in 1834 as a common sailor, and later returned on a different ship, the Alert. The Pilgrim is central to his account of life at sea and the hide trade along the California coast during the Mexican era.
One of its standout attractions is the Spirit of Dana Point, a replica 18th-century tall ship used for educational programs and living history experiences that bring California’s seafaring past to life.
A traditionally built 118‑ft replica of a privateer schooner from the 1770s—originally named Pilgrim of Newport, it was renamed after its acquisition by the Ocean Institute in 2001.
Prior to the Spirit of Dana Point, a replica of The Pilgrim was located in the harbor. Built in 1945 in Denmark as a three-masted trading schooner, it was converted into a brig in Portugal in 1975 and came to Dana Point in 1981. It served as a floating classroom operated by the Ocean Institute.
On March 29, 2020, the Pilgrim began taking on water and capsized in its slip at Dana Point Harbor, leaning and sinking with just its masts above the waterline.
Salvage teams attempted to pump it out, use airbags to lift it, and surveyed the hull. However, the wooden structure was old and fragile, making it unsafe for a full recovery. The Coast Guard and Ocean Institute determined that lifting it would have endangered divers and potentially made things worse . They eventually decided to demolish the ship, and Curtin Maritime dismantled it with crane barges in April 2020
We absolutely loved our time in Dana Point. The unique blend of history, literature, and maritime culture made Dana Point a highlight of our trip down the coast.