Monday, September 12
After a week living on the SF waterfront spending money like drunken sailors on entertainment (Alcatraz, Fringe Festival, Beach Blanket Babylon and great restaurants), it was about time to move on. We crossed the Bay early enough for Charlie and Eric to pedal off to the Oakland West Marine to pick up a replacement for the step. It was a shock to see depths of 7 and 8 feet all over the chart of the Berkeley shore. Passing about 3 miles of the old Berkeley Pier pilings in 10 to 12 feet according to our depth sounder, we made our way to the Berkeley YC (free moorage) where we prepared for my sister Edie and her husband Tom to come aboard for an afternoon sail.
We set out mid-afternoon with a smart breeze in our faces, the chop building all across the Bay. Edie's friends Arlan and Chris, local sailors who had joined our crew, immediately assured us that we were seeing normal conditions for "The Slot." When I asked about this term, Arlan pointed to the GG, dead ahead, funneling wind directly into our faces.
This trip proved that no matter how careful you are in bending on the main, shaking down publicly will involve embarrassment. Sure enough, in rigging our second reef Charlie had managed to run the line through the third reef grommet. Eventually with a single reef tied in and about half the jib rolled out, we set off on a close reach for Angel Island.
In reading about the history of Chinese immigration I had formed an image of the island as a bleak flat field of barracks. In fact, now a State Park, it's mostly treed with just a few of the old buildings from its days as a fort, Nike missile site and immigrant holding tank. We found the sailing improved as we entered the island's lee. On the back side, Tom took the helm as we tacked up Raccoon Strait viewing Ayala Cove, Sausalito and Tiburon. The tide rips at Point Blunt provided some good surfing waves as we re-entered the Slot and before long we were back at the dock enjoying a little cocktail hour in the marina.
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