Our uncomfortable but speedy run ended 40 miles west of the Farallons as the wind shut down at the beginning of my watch. With the prospect of motoring the remaining miles home, all hope of an arrival under sail ended. This was an emotional low point for me as I was loath to fire the motor.
As dawn emerged, the rocky islands were abeam to starboard. We were also greeted by the local charter fishing fleet of perhaps a dozen party boats all gathered within a quarter mile of each other. It must have been a really good spot. As we neared the gate, more signs of humanity crept into our senses. Vessels of all types were zipping about, large tankers moving deceptively fast and channel markers with clanging bells introduced us to sounds unheard of for nearly three weeks. We sailed under the bridge @ 1 PM. It was a beautiful, sunny day on the bay with lots of people enjoying the conditions. Being the last day of the AC 45 World Series, there were perhaps more boats out than usual. Actually, there were tons and tons of boats. Like Fleet Week on steroids. In addition, there were multiple helicopters buzzing, seaplanes overhead, ferries and kayakers. It all bordered on sensory overload. A big contrast to say the least.
Re-entering is difficult. The simplicity of life on board does not translate well to modern society. The pace of things is the most striking. It also hits you pretty quick. Driving home on the freeway is about 650% faster than we’ve moved during the entire trip. And all those cars were way too close.
The house also tends to move. For me, this was most apparent taking a shower. I was bracing myself as if we were at 20 degrees of heel. I only occasionally run into walls now.
Top ten highlights:
10) The evening sky. The cosmos are a never ending source of enjoyment for us.
9) My mid-Pacific dip.
8) Baby wipes. Don’t leave home without them.
7) Sailmail. Hearing from friends and family was always a treat and much anticipated.
6) Our friends Sonja and Paul for hosting us before our departure. They are always accommodating.
5) Food. We ate well. When even a simple PB&J sandwich can seem gourmet during a gale, many of our meals were over-the-top.
4) Landfall. San Francisco bay on a sunny Sunday afternoon has to be one of the prettiest.
3) Bequia. Our magic carpet. Tolerant if we were exhausted. Responsive when on our game. Solid and reliable always.
2) Skipper Dennis Ronk. ‘nuff said.
1) My wife Pamela for enduring some pretty crazy adventures over the years and always being up for more.