This weekend’s cruise out to Drake’s Bay offered us the opportunity to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield in a series of tests interspersed with moments of quiet beauty that would have pleased Tennyson’s Ulysses. Longer, at 25nm from the Golden Gate, and dead upwind, Drake’s Bay has a well-deserved reputation as a tough destination to reach and a flat and windy anchorage when you do. The first test was throwing off the dock lines at 0500. Interlude, Journey, Migration, Perseverance, Pleiades and Significant Other all made it to the rendezvous point under the Golden Gate Bridge at the appointed, very early hour to “Push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrows”. This test was made easier by reminding ourselves that we were doing this for fun and by the sunny and mild conditions which allowed us to take the shorter Bonita Channel route along the coast, motoring straight in to Drake’s Bay. The second and third tests were mechanical. “Fleet 9, Fleet 9, Fleet 9…” One of our flotilla had turned off the engine to sail, found the winds too light, and attempted to restart without success… “Won’t turn over… voltage drops, then comes back up after the key is released…” “Sounds like a stuck starter to me… Whack it with a hammer,” came the winning reply. Three good whacks, the engine turned over like new, and the flotilla was back into fair winds and following seas. Then, about a mile out of Drake’s Bay… “Fleet 9, Fleet 9, Fleet 9…” a second boat was having engine trouble. RPM’s dropping, dropping, gone. A tow was rigged and the disabled vessel was pulled into the anchorage to start changing fuel filters. Bad fuel. Three tests, three successful results, we’re feeling good. The sun is shining on a warm, still October afternoon. Dinghies go in the water, and the visiting begins. A plan emerges to potluck on Interlude. Friday evening eleven sailors from six boats crowded cheek by jowl in Interlude’s saloon for wine, spiced rum drinks, sparkling water and equally sparkling conversation. King crab legs, John Elway’s Hamburger Soup, garden salad, fresh pesto tortellini, lasagna and pot roast blunted the sharpest appetites. Dessert consisted of Ruby Port, Ghirardelli chocolates and warm chocolate chip cookies. No one left hungry. Saturday morning was quiet. But some time around noon, the famous Drake’s Bay Breeze came up, and we learned the importance of “scope” as it applies to anchoring. “Oh, about 80 feet should be enough,” one of the more experienced sailors in the group surmised. And 80 feet did hold, for a while. Some quick jockeying got the rode back aboard and the boat back into position, and this time 150 feet went into the water. Every boat had someone at the bow checking scope and rigging chaffing gear after that. From noon on Saturday the wind in the anchorage rose up through the 20’s into the low 30’s and stayed there till about 0100 Sunday morning, keeping several sailors as taut that night as their anchor rodes. But rosy fingered dawn reached gently up into the eastern sky on Sunday morning and shone down on a fleet resting again, quietly. We’ve all done the weekend cruise outs where the worst that happens is someone drops a grape into the bilge or a glass of wine is spilled. Those are great times, and everyone feels well satisfied when the weekend is over and nothing major has broken. But how does that test us as sailors, and after all, isn’t that part of why we go, to measure ourselves against the absolute, indifferent ocean. Our next chance to “drink life to the lees” will be at our annual dinner cruise in. We will gather at Salute y Vita at Richmond Marina Bay November 2nd. Let Mary Berman or Mike Joyce know a) if you can join for dinner and b) if you will be cruising in. We’ll make slip arrangements for you.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Oct 2013 02:06:45 +0000