Ever feel like you’re “in the doldrums”— where everything seems bleak and colorless, and there’s nothing you can think of that sounds like fun? Yeah, me neither.
The
word comes from the old English dol
meaning dull. Appended to this is the suffix drum, which is believed to have been borrowed from tantrum. As
tantrums are fits of anger, doldrums are fits of dreariness. The term was used
in this form by the nineteenth century, so in 1824 when Lord Byron referred to
a ship as being “in the doldrums” in “light and baffling” winds, he was noting
the ship’s forlorn behavior, not its location.
The
first time the doldrums were connected to a specific place in the ocean was in The
Physical Geography of the Sea, 1855, by the estimable Matthew Maury, whose detailed
research formed the foundation of pilot charts: “The ‘equatorial doldrums’
is another of these calm places… a region of calms and baffling winds.” But
this seems to have been the result of a misconception on the part of someone
(not Maury) who, when told a ship was “in the doldrums,” thought this was a
geographical area.
The doldrums are now the Intertropical Convergence Zone, a
title that is infinitely less poetic than its predecessor. The ITCZ consists of
a band of light wind north of the equator that varies in latitude and width according
to the season and any old whim that occurs to it. Many try to avoid it when
sailing, and marine forecasters will give you a good guess about just where to
cross it at its narrowest. Of course, by the time you sail to that spot, it
will be the widest.
I’m going to buck the crowd and put in a word for the
doldrums. The wind has ceased, and you’re alone in a vast, primordial
wilderness far from the chatter of civilization. It wasn’t easy getting here. The
ocean is quietly resting, though you sense the uncanny power of her languid
undulations born of distant, violent storms. In this desolate and dreamlike domain,
you can read, contemplate, and swim in perfect serenity and solitude. Your cup
and plate sit calmly on the table instead of unsociably flinging themselves to
the cabin sole. The sunset beams across the anvil tops of thunderheads a
hundred miles away. Soon enough, you’ll be in a city with all the normal folks.
What’s the hurry?
Mastering all those sailing terms can be troublesome. It’s like learning a silly secret language that an exclusive club made up just to befuddle outsiders, or at least that’s what I like about it. But sometimes it seems as though the sailing wizards have just gone too far. What follows are mariners’ words that have two or more meanings with little or nothing in common. Why? Just because.
Veer
(vb.):
(1) Of the wind, to turn clockwise, or when steering, to change course, often
by spacing out; (2) To let out anchor rode, particularly when you believe that
using fancy words will disguise the fact that you have no idea what you’re
doing.
Bight
(n.):
(1) The middle of a line, where you have to learn special ways to tie knots
like clove hitches and bowlines that you thought you already knew; (2) A
concave stretch of shoreline, not deep enough to have its own name like those haughty
coves and bays.
Foot
(vb.): (1) To sail slightly further off the wind than a close-hauled course to
increase speed; (n.) (2) The bottom edge of a sail; (3) The thing at the end of
your leg, useful for many seamanlike tasks like kicking the windlass to get it started.
Fetch
(vb.):
(1) To sail to a point upwind without having to tack; (2) To “fetch up” means
to come to a stop, usually on a reef (see below); (n.) (3) The distance over
the water that a particular wind blows, generating waves. I’m not even counting
what dogs do.
Reef
(n.):
A shallow shelf of rock or coral that sooner or later you’re going to hit; (2)
The bottom part of the sail taken in when shortening down, although on a square
sail this is the top of the sail, of course.
Point
(vb.): (1) To taper the end of a rope; (2) To sail close to the wind, as in
“she points well”; (n.) (3) Any one of several courses relative to the wind, as
in “point of sail,”; (4) An area of land projecting from the coastline; (5) A
32nd part of the compass card equivalent to 11 degrees, 15 minutes. Are
these five different things, or what? Couldn’t we have five different words?
And
the winner is:
Westerly
(adj.):(1) Of wind, blowing from the
west; but (2) Of current, setting towards the west.
One of the most common calculations you make when cruising, whether it’s a sail on the Bay or island hopping in Greece, is figuring when you’re going to get where you’re going. It’s easy enough to estimate time of arrival when you are “fetching” your destination, which is sailing jargon for sailing directly there rather than tacking. Distance divided by speed equals time. But suppose you want to figure out how long it takes to sail to San Francisco from Richmond. With the prevailing summer wind, it’s going to be a beat and let’s say your boat does 6 knots through the water, but not in a direct line because you have to tack. The “ETE” or estimated time enroute, and “VMG” or velocity made good aren’t so straightforward, and these are what you need to know to figure “ETA,” or estimated time of arrival. You can figure a rough estimate, though, without knowing trigonometry or having a whole cabal of nerds running arcane computer programs for Larry Ellison. What you’ve got when your destination is directly upwind is, theoretically, an isosceles right triangle (iso=equal, skelos=leg) where the hypotenuse represents the distance to your destination and the legs represent your tacks. So x + x is the distance you’ll have to sail to get from F to D via point E:
Remembering that geometry class in high school, a squared + b squared = c squared, but since the legs are the same, the hypotenuse is equal to either side times the square root of two. (In this theoretical treatment it doesn’t matter whether it’s ten tacks or one.) So if you divide the hypotenuse, which is in this case the distance from the end of Potrero Reach (F) to the City (D), about 5.5 nautical miles, by the square root of two (≈1.41), you’ll have the length of one tack, and then multiply by two for the two tacks, you will have the distance you need to sail to get there. This turns out to be a little less than 8 nm. Let’s assume a boat speed of 6 knots with a steady breeze. If you divide that distance by your six knots of speed, you’ll have your time enroute or ETE, about 1.3 hours. Divide the distance from F to D by the ETE, 5.5/1.3, and you’ll have your velocity made good or VMG, a little more than 4 knots. And add the ETE to the present time, and you’ll know if you’ll be arriving in time to meet Betty and Sam. Because that calculation is neglecting leeway, however, the distance is actually a little more than that so your ETE is longer and your VMG is less. So forget all that square root stuff. It turns out that just multiplying the distance from F to D by 1.5 is going to give a close enough estimate of the actual distance you’ll have to sail, assuming the destination is dead to windward, for us regular old sailors. Correspondingly, your VMG is 2/3 of your boat speed through the water. If it isn’t dead to windward, sail the long leg first, and the multiplier will be less than 1.5, but never less than 1. It’s not so hard. So put those high school trig and geometry books back on the shelf next to your vinyl Spice Girl albums. But wait. We also have to figure current, as the above assumes slack water. This can get a bit cumbersome but let’s see if we can, again, find a shortcut. Have a look at the current charts at the back of your tide book. Turn to the max ebb chart on p. 59. You’ll see 1.4 knots helping you along, then a little over 2 knots of current to the right. This is on an average day at maximum current. To find what the figure is on a strong day, go to the chart on p. 50 and you’ll see the multiplier is 1.5. This means that at max ebb on a strong day, you’ll get 1.4 x 1.5, or a little over 2 knots of help halfway there, and then let’s say 2.4 x 1.5 or about 3.5 knots of being set to the right, which also helps. Averaging those, you’ll have a bit less than three knots in your favor for the whole trip. When we add this to the six knots your boat does over the water, we get a speed over the water of nearly nine knots on a day with a strong ebb. The distance sailed is the same 8 miles, so now the trip will take just less than an hour at max ebb on a strong day. [There is some oversimplification going on here, but…let’s just forget about that.] On a flood where the current is adverse, consult the chart on p. 53, and again adjusting by the chart on p. 50, we’ll multiply by 1.5 for a strong day. We get 1.5 knots of adverse current and then a little less than 2 setting us to the left, opposite of where we want. (The flood difference is smaller than the ebb difference because on average the ebb is stronger than the flood. A subject for another day.) Averaging the 2 with the 1.5, we can subtract 1.7 knots from our boat speed, bringing it to about 4.3 knots. The distance through the water is the same 8 miles, so it will take a little less than 2 hours to get there. Again, this is max flood on a strong day. The end result is we get a range of ETE from just under one hour with a strong ebb, which yields a VMG of about 6 knots; one hour, 20 minutes at slack for a VMG of just over 4 knots; and a little under 2 hours against a strong flood for a VMG of about 2.8 knots. Try this for any destination on the Bay. If any of you decide to actually do this, please report your results back for all of us to benefit. There’s nothing like empirical validation. OK, I admit, that was a bit complicated. But you only have to figure this out once, based on the speed of your boat, and you’ll know at a glance how to estimate your ETE to the city given the state of wind and current. All of this assumes constant wind and consistent boat handling, so your figures may vary. Not that you really care, because if you’re sailing, no matter how long it takes to get to your destination, you’ve already arrived.
Beautiful Richardson Bay was named after a man named William Richardson whom came to the area as a second mate aboard a Brittish Whaling ship named Orion in 1822. After staying out all night at a party in the Presidio in San Francisco against the orders of his captain, it was a mutual decision for him to leave the ship. He eventually won a petition for a rancho called “Rancho Sauselito”. Sausalito is the spanish word for “small willow grove”and these headlands across the Golden Gate from the Presidio were full of freshwater springs and the section Richardson requested had a creek. Likely the place we today call, Coyote Creek.
Richardson then brilliantly established a watering station for incoming vessels with his natural supply but did later abandon this endeavor for something more in his wheel house. Surveying land and water, something he did multiple times throughout his life. He was the first to chart San Francisco Bay, he was a translator, helped layout towns such as Sonoma and San Diego and he used his personal boat to transport people and supplies up to Sacramento during the gold rush. He also built the first 2 story wood framed house in the Presidio that looked out at incoming vessels so he could greet them and offer them any goods they may be needing. Richardson was named Port Captain due to his seafaring abilities, overseeing maritime commerce in the bay and often times personally piloting arriving ships. Making him the first of what we now call Bay Pilots. You can now see why his name was given to one of the most beautiful parts of our bay, what we call Richardson Bay.
Before I go any further I want to say, this post includes a cove within the bay that is not technically in Richardson Bay. I tried to break this series of posts up into general areas, sometimes needing to squeeze an area into a box it didn’t quite fit into. I have laid this post out by starting on the most western area and moving up and around the bay ending in the most eastern corner.
This series is meant to serve as a guide to help day and weekend sailors find new and interesting things they can do on board Tradewinds Sailing School and Club boats. If I include a place or a thing that isn’t allowed in our club, I will mention it explicitly so our members know but this post can still be used by independent boat owners and visitors from out of town.
Welcome to Richardson Bay!!
A shallow, ecologically rich arm of San Francisco Bay
Below is a map of the area we are talking about. You will find pins dropped for each place mentioned so you can orient yourself with where each place is as I go along. You can interact with this map better by clicking on the link below it.
The marina with the most controversial name (everyone swears it’s Cove but the charts all say Bay) but the most beautiful views in the Bay! This marina is the closest marina to the Gate with the best views of Golden Gate Bridge right from your anchorage or guest dock and full views of San Francisco, assuming you are there on a clear day or night which is advised. If you do happen to have the fog roll in before you get into the cove you may want to reconsider. It will be difficult to navigate in and most of the beauty and wonder will be hiding behind our favorite Bay Area friend, Karl the fog. If you are going on a clear day however, you are in LUCK. Make sure to enter the cove down the middle of the entrance and keep an eye out, you have a fishing area to your port and to your starboard you have a shallow area near the breakwater. Check your tides and currents as well before you plan to visit this location. It is best to enter at slack tide or on a gentle ebb or flood as the currents are strongest near this part of the bridge and you can find yourself drifting out of the gate.
Anchorage:
This Harbor has an average depth of 8′ so watch those negative tides! The area closer towards the bridge side of the cove should be kept clear as the coast guard may enter at any time and can take up that whole side. There is a small no wake zone marker in the middle but 2 boats can fit in here comfortably or more if rafted up. TRADEWINDS DISCLAIMER: It is against club rules to raft up at any time. The sea floor in this harbor is mostly silt. Be sure to test your anchor well before resting to be sure you are holding. Be advised, some local sailors have said they would not anchor here as there is debris on the seafloor that your anchor could get tangled up in. If you are anchoring here you could tie a trip line to your anchor to help you if this becomes a problem.
Guest Dock: Travis Marina: (415)332-2319 No reservations. $1/foot for overnight stays 40′ boat is max End of dock is 8′ at low tide, progressively getting more shallow towards land Restaurant and Bar at marina – Best burger on the bay! On Friday’s and Saturday’s be sure to call before trying to visit the bar as they sometimes have private events.
Access to: Restrooms and showers Presideo Yacht Club – a public yacht club Hikes to beautiful sights Fishing off of pier 1/2 mile walk to Cavallo Point Restaurant 1/4 mile walk to Bay Area Discovery Museum and Bean Sprouts Cafe (Coffee and food geared towards children)
Sausalito Yacht Club (Club members only)
This club is members only, however, if you are a member of a yacht club you can use your reciprocal priveledges to visit this area. I recommend visiting during one of their live music events. You can view their events page here. If you decide to visit on a day they are not having an event you can take advantage of the two hours on the guest dock, or if you have a dinghy, stand up paddle board, kayak, etc… you can use it to get to shore from here. Once on land you have 3 of the top 10 water front restaurants that are just south of the yacht club. The Trident, Scoma’s of Sausalito and Barrel House. Of course you could also have a good meal right here at Sausalito Yacht Club Restaurant.
Information below is directly from the Sausalito Yacht Club website.
Dock Rules Boat Captain is responsible for securing his/her yacht – Please utilize the most upwind available space maximizing room for other vessels.
All visiting Yacht Club vessels should fly their respective yacht club burgee.
Visitors from reciprocal Yacht Clubs must check in with the Officer on Deck or Club Steward upon arriving.
Maximum stay 2 hours. (During special events, less time may be allowed)
No overnight tie-up at the dock. Members are requested to use the mooring balls when tying-up overnight. NOTE: Our dock experiences significant surge and current. Boaters should be aware of this and plan their visit and dock lines accordingly.
Use of the SYC Mooring Field The SYC mooring field is for members and guests who have registered with our Port Captain, Officer of the Day or General Manager. No boat shall be moored for more than 72 hours. Call 415-332-7400.
Notice: There are a few boats anchored between two locations and other random spots along the side of Richardson Bay – keep in mind this areas are very shallow and not recommended for overnight anchoring. You will likely find yourself stuck for possibly a few days.
Sausalito Yacht Harbor
Sausalito Yacht Harbor is a small marina with monthly slips that rarely become available. The reviews online all state this is a beautiful spot if you can get one. There are no guest docks available for use.
These are easily walked to from neighboring marinas with guest docks.
Pelican Harbour
Pelican Harbor is another small marina. Although no guest dock or transient slips available, it seems like a very nice marina to stay in by month. Below is a few more of the great restaurants you can visit while staying in a nearby marina that does have a guest dock.
Restaurants between here and the next marina are: Bar Bocce (415)331-0555 Joinery Bearhall (415)766-8999
Another sight to see between this marina and the next is the Floating Taj Mahal. It is a sight you can’t miss! Snag a picture as you are passing by but if you happen to get onto the docks please do not try to approach or look in as someone does live in this beautiful floating home.
Sausalito Cruising Club
The Sausalito Cruising Club is such an interesting place that I have been researching to try and get accurate information about and I think I finally figured it out. Although not actually called a yacht club this club is very similar to what we know of as yacht clubs. The Cruising Club is a member of the Pacific Inter-Yacht Club Association. They even have reciprocal rights with many yacht clubs on the West Coast, Hawaii, and throughout the world.
This club started during World War II by service men who were looking for a place to decompress. The clubhouse is a surplus World War Two munitions barge which is a detail that makes me want to jump on a boat and use my own reciprocal yacht club privileges to go check it out. To the side of the building are a bunch of stand up paddle boards and kayaks which look like they are available for club use. Before you visit the Sausalito Cruising Club I recommend shooting them an email at info@sausalitocruisingclub.org to make sure the facilities are available during the time you plan to visit.
Galilee Harbor
Galilee Harbor is once again a marina we wont have access to but it’s home to 38 floating households that is full of creative residents. Keep an eye out for events in this marina you could find your new favorite piece of livingroom art, pottery, t-shirt, etc! It looks like they haven’t updated their website with events for 2023 but you can find the page by clicking HERE!
Schoonmaker Point Marina Guest Dock
Phone: 415.331.5550
A relatively new, full-service marina. Side-ties can handle yachts up to 220 feet long. Guest slips often available by prior arrangement(varify guest dock space they want you to pull up to). Café at marina. Sandy beach that can be used to land or launch a dinghy, stand up paddle board or kayak. You can also swim in this calm area and rent a kayak if you don’t have your own. If you are visiting by car, there are free carts you can borrow to transport your stuff from the car to the beach.
Restaurants in this area are: Le Garage (415)332-5625 New Saylor’s Restaurant and Bar (415)332-1512
New Old School E-Bikes (415)324-7039 You can get 15% off bike rentals when you mention Tradewinds and this blog post. Comes with bike lock and phone holder.
Bluewater Yacht Harbor
Nightly guest dock and monthly dry storage docking
Phone: (415)289-0135
Not sure if you are annoyed that this list is full of marinas that do not have public access but this is a marina I was sure was going to be that and then I found a singular line written on their website that set me straight. “There are also side ties up to 60’ available for daily or other short term use”. If looking for somewhere new to tie up and stay the night at, I recommend giving this marina a call. If looking for somewhere to store some smaller water toys, this also might be your spot. They advertise monthly stand up paddle board, canoe and kayak dry dock storage.
Liberty Ship Marina
The most difficult marina in Sausalito to find any information on at all. It is home to the beautiful Matthew Turner, a Liberty Ship that offers bay tours and is seen almost every weekend and in the evenings sailing with its big square sails on display. You can visit the marina to take a look a little closer at the ship but please do not climb aboard unless it is open for tour. More info coming soon about this marina.
Marina Plaza Harbor
Another marina that is website-less and has little information. However, this marina does offer daily guest docking. More information coming as I get the chance to visit or call this marina. If you happen to get ahold of anyone before I have updated this post, please email the office with the information!
Clipper Yacht Harbor Guest Dock verified!
This is a family owned full service marina open to the public. You must call to reserve your guest dock in advance and they will require you to send them boat documentation and proof of insurance (Tradewinds is happy to provide anytime a marina asks for this just send us an email and we will send you so you can provide). You can find a lot to do is this part of sausalito including more restaurants and shopping. This is also a great place to stay while you go walk around the cool Waldo Point Marina talked about next.
Recommended restaurants in area: Fish. (415)331-3474
Waldo Point Harbor
Waldo Point Harbor is an adorable community of floating homes that is happy to have people walking around soaking up the creative ways they have decorated their community. There is no guest dock and they do not appreciate people looking in their windows or taking pictures but have a walk around and imagine living in such a beautiful and interesting place!
Richardson Bay Marina
Last but not least is Richardson Bay Marina. Tucked in the very northern corner past Waldo Point Harbor, is this awesome marina open to the public but not offering any guest slips. They do have monthly slips and possibly liveaboard slips, although it is unlikely that any slips become available in our lifetimes!
Things to do in the area: Sea Plane Adventures
Strawberry Lagoon and Araburo Island
As we make our way now around to the other side of the Bay you will see Strawberry Lagoon and Araburo Island. This area is very shallow and I do not recommend trying to visit it on a sailboat. However, if you happen to be visiting the area in anything with a much more shallow draft, it is quite an interesting place. The island and lagoon you see in the picture is home to a bird sanctuary and just outside of the island is an Eel Grass experiment that SF State University has been doing. Definitely something cool to check out.
Our very own Tony Johnson gave us a great secret entrance you can see in the next image.
Cone Rock Anchorage
If you are a Tradewinds Student and you have taken our ASA 104 Bareboat Cruising Class, there is a high chance you have spent the night near cone rock at anchor. It is most of our instructors favorite places to take their students to experience to beautiful views as well as this usually protected anchorage. Just be careful, the wind doesn’t always come from the same place and on an evening with a west wind, you are on a lee shore.
The depth at this anchoring is pretty steadily, 8-11′ at zero tide between the cone rock marker and land to the edge of raccoon strait. If you are on one of our deeper draft boats, like the First 40 Child’s Play we have in our fleet, on a negative tide you can find yourself sitting in the mud. Most of our boats though are about 6′ draft and you will be perfectly afloat for your evening on the hook.
In summary…
Richardson Bay and Horseshoe Cove are beautiful areas that are not to be missed if you are sailing in San Francisco Bay. We owe this priveledge to a man named David Steinhardt who fought against this area of water being filled in during the 1950’s. Apparently there was a plan to fill it in so they could build homes and install roads but Steinhardt stopped the process and convinced his neighbors to also take a stand against the idea which preserved the bay of water for all of us to enjoy over the past 70 years and counting.
Whether you are day sailing and looking for somewhere to cruise around/stop for lunch or staying the night and looking for something a little more special to do, like renting an ebike and exploring part of your day on land checking out the history of the marin headlands, put this area on your list immediately!!
The following is an excerpt from my book, “The Captain And Mr. Shrode,” and was written in the harbor of Huatulco in southern Mexico, on the last leg of our circumnavigation.
When one undertakes a venture such as ours, he perhaps holds out the hope that the experience may toughen him a bit, make more of a man of him, that sort of thing. He’ll walk with a salty swagger and have a certain air that sets him apart from the ordinary man. The last thing one wishes is to be proven a weakling, a fool, a coward.
But Daniel Patrick Moynihan once said that if you live life fully, it will break your heart, probably quoting an old Irish proverb. Similarly, it seems that if you sail enough miles, the sea will turn you into a poltroon. Just what you didn’t want.
The crew of Maverick arrives at Huatulco where all the books say it’s safe to wait out a Tehuantepecer. The Captain looks at the bay, which is not too deep, and the faxes, which predict 12-foot waves gliding oh-so-gently by only a short distance away. He recalls that waves have the property of refracting around things. Looking at the headland that protects the bay, he hypothesizes thusly: Here lies the sort of thingamajig around which a wave, if it got a notion to, might refract, sending its mischievous energy into the harbor. The books say no, it’s safe. Never one to be comforted by facts or evidence, the Captain has developed that particular talent of the coward: to be afraid.
Seeking reassurance, he asks the port captain if the harbor is safe, if the mean old waves might refract into the harbor. The port captain pats his hand and looks meaningfully into his eyes, having seen his sort before. “No, it is very safe here.”
Then the Captain goes to see the manager of the marina, Andrico, who has the sort of sporty name that tennis pros and ski instructors favor, and asks him the same thing. “No, not to worry,” he says in his best bedside manner, as if reassuring a little old lady.
So the books, and the Port Captain, and Andrico, and the fishermen, and the indulging looks on the faces of all who are brave, say that the nasty waves will not refract around the headland.
But the waves refract around the headland.
On Sunday, when the Tehuantepecer is scheduled to start blowing to 50 knots, the right side of the bay, the one the locals said was safest, starts to look untenable and will be if it gets worse. We move to the other side of the bay and as usual make certain we’ve got the hook well stuck. Later, the other cruising boat in the anchorage follows.
On Monday, the winds gusted to 65 knots, hurricane strength, out in the Gulf, and we had gusts of up to 40 in the bay. Every vessel in the bay dragged its anchor, except Maverick. Okay, there were only three other vessels. But one was a 60-foot steel trawler, and another was a large barge. Both craft were anchored by professionals—members in good standing of the “nothing to worry about in this snug harbor” school of thought. The trawler crew was aboard and tried to re-anchor but couldn’t and eventually settled for tying up to the pier, which, with the surge, was a very ugly solution. The barge fetched up on the rocks. The cruisers were away in town, so when we saw their boat was dragging in the strong wind and chop, we got into the dinghy with three fenders and clambered aboard to try to keep the fenders between their boat and a huge channel buoy. As the boat dragged past it, we found some lines and tied two to the buoy to stabilize the situation until the weather died down. This bit of maneuvering with the dinghy, boat, lines, and buoy in the midst of a chaotic scene could not be described as elegant. The cruisers were not ungrateful; the boat would have foundered.
An exasperating fact is that most of the time, the dashing, devil-may-care skipper who throws out 30 feet of rode in 20 feet of water and says, “Who’s ready for a brewski?” is going to be fine, while the silly crew of Maverick that spent FIVE HOURS before they were satisfied that their anchor was well set in Mykonos will look like fools. Most of the time even a poorly set anchor will not drag, the boat will not be broken into, the through-hulls will not fail, we will not lose our passports, the lighthouse will be working, the rig will not come down, the hull will not come apart, the navigation will be obvious, the chart will be correct, the oil cooler will not spring a leak, lightning will not strike, the boat will not swing onto the reef in a gale, and all your worries will seem the far-fetched scenarios of a guy with no self-confidence and no sense of adventure.
When we were in Lipari, I saw an excursion boat loading passengers for a day trip. Everyone was in a festive mood, the crew welcoming the visitors, handing out drinks, helping them stow their bags. Only one man stood apart from the rest, leaning on the rail with a worried look on his face, staring down at the mooring lines. Though he wore no uniform, I knew in an instant he was the captain.
It’s a little humiliating to feel the need, or even the duty, to be a fussy worrywart. It’s really not what you had in mind when you visualized yourself as Captain. There is no dignity in paranoia, when the movies teach us that the hero is like Butch Cassidy or the Sundance Kid, jumping off a big cliff and not getting hurt. On the other hand, in the book, Little Big Man, there is a story about Wild Bill Hickok that I assume is apocryphal, but nonetheless like many apocryphal tales it is a good one. As he approaches a bar to get a drink, a man at a bar stool on the end who seems to be passed out drunk lifts up his head and raises a gun to kill him. Hickok, prepared for that eventuality because he’s paranoid, has his gun hidden behind the hat he holds in his hand, and blows him away. Little Big Man is amazed, and asks Hickok how he knew that guy had a gun, and Hickok replies that it was just a hunch, and when he gets hunches like that 99 out of 100 times he’s wrong. “But it’s that one time in a hundred that pays me for my troubles.”
Sunday Bruce, Johannes and I (Colin) took Pacific High out. As we were preparing to go I said to the crew, let’s try to get to the Golden Gate but if we cannot make it in time with the early sunset we can do some man-over-board practice, last time I was out we nearly lost Chuck and Bob as we could not see them in the sun’s glare.
We should have realized Poseidon agreed we needed more practice, as he provided a first test by placing an empty 10 gallon diesel jug in the channel for us to chase and pickup on the way out.
The winds were with us and we made it to the Golden Gate without any further incident. After the obligatory picture beneath the bridge and looking back towards San Francisco we turned around and started sailing back talking about how lucky we were to be out on such a nice day in such a beautiful place.
What seemed like quite soon after getting under the bridge we saw a wing surfer sitting on his board, holding his wing up, more like a sail and not really going anywhere. This seemed a little odd and as it was easy Bruce adjusted our course to go by him. As we got closer we started communicating by hand signals. We got a thumbs up, he was fine. As we got to hearing distance we again asked if he was okay and this time he said yes but if we had a line he could do with a tow upwind (he meant down wind but up current but we knew what he meant).
I told Bruce we are going after him, bring the boat around. Bruce conducted a figure eight maneuver, Johannes handled the sails and everything but the helm on the boat and I found the longest line in the locker. We attached it to the stern cleat and put a bowline on the far end. We caught ourselves a wing surfer on the line! I asked where he wanted to go. Not so surprisingly, for any locals, the beach near St Francis Yacht Club. It became quickly apparent even with us loosing as much speed as we could and getting the speed over ground down to 2 knots he was finding it hard to hold on. The wing was dragging behind him in the water. After a chat over the transom he suggested deflating his wing. We all agreed this was a good idea and he promptly let go of the tow line! That had not been in our plan! Clearly this was to help Bruce with his MOB practice! We did another figure 8, this time I was smarter with the line and tied a fender to it so we could see it and to stop it sinking. We caught the wing surfer again. Again with us now rolling up the jib and going at only 1.5 knots speed over ground, but maybe 2 knots faster through the water he was struggling to hold on. I offered, “why don’t you just come aboard ?” He did not need a second offer and we dropped the swim ladder down and pulled the line in and got him to the ladder. We took the deflated wing, board and surfer on board then pulled out the jib, pushed out the main and started sailing to where he wanted to be dropped off. As we go closer to the beach we watched the depth and when it hit 30 feet we hove-to (stopped the boat) and released our catch to swim back.
Wing Surfer Onboard!
We then called Tradewinds to warn them we might be late returning, but in the end the winds were with us and we made it back to the slip including stopping at the pump out dock 10 minutes before sunset.
A number of thoughts occurred to me after this lesson from Poseidon.
Was the wing surfer really in danger? He thought so enough to ask a random stranger for help, if he was able to rescue himself it would have been more risky. Given the quite strong current and that it was still increasing we think he would have been sucked under the Golden Gate bridge and would have been in a lot more trouble later. We think it was the right call.
Should we have initially refused to tow him, hove-to and made him get on our boat? It is hard to know how he would have reacted, but I suspect he was not yet ready to admit he needed that much help.
We had three people in the boat to rescue one person in the water, could we have done it with less? Maybe but it was extremely useful to have a helm, a crew and a lineman / communicator. I did not see anyone resting.
Should we have dropped the sails and used the engine? It would have taken time to do this and we would have had the extra risk of a line and man in the water with a spinning propeller. Doing the whole rescue under sail seemed at the time the more prudent thing to do.
Next time you are out practice your man overboard, pick up that fender you see in the distance just don’t let Poseidon know you want to practice man over board!
About 30 years ago, the event all of us hope we’ll never face happened to me: my crew was hit by the boom in an accidental jibe and I had a real-life man overboard with an injured victim. Terry Shrode was in the water. We had done so much sailing together and were so sympatico on the boat that little need be said regarding maneuvers. We took it for granted that we were competent, and this is a very dangerous state of mind. As the saying goes, just when you think you know what you’re doing, “the sea will find your mistakes.”
When this happened, I was very quickly disabused of the fantasy that, in an emergency, I would keep a cool head. Sully Sullenberger, the pilot who landed an Airbus 320 in the Hudson River, taught emergency procedures. When asked if he panicked when his engines failed, he said that he observed in himself the physiological symptoms of stress: increased heart rate, rapid breathing, and a surge of adrenalin. Yet he didn’t submit to them, but reverted to his training, which was what saved his life and those of the 154 other people on board. In our case, Terry was overboard, and I knew he was hurt. I was alone on the boat, my heart was in my throat, my mind was flopping around like a wounded snake, and every cell in my body told me, “He’s right there!! Turn the boat around!!” But the figure eight recovery method had been so frequently practiced that, emotions notwithstanding, I knew exactly what I had to do. I executed, to my great relief, a perfect return to Terry, and brought the boat to a stop just to windward of him. Though dazed, he was able to regain the deck via the swim ladder, bloodied but not seriously injured. A boom on a 39-foot sailboat is a lethal weapon and that’s what had hit him. Fortunately, it was a glancing blow and he’s a tough guy.
We teach the figure eight method at Tradewinds. It is easy to take the figure eight for granted, yet it is a brilliant piece of seamanship. It doesn’t involve a jibe, which may cause other injuries when there are non-sailors aboard. It allows you time to maneuver the boat accurately and come to a stop, and to make a line ready. If done properly, it is an automatic way of determining a reciprocal course, since when you establish a beam reach and then tack to another beam reach, you’ve turned around 180 degrees just by looking at the windvane atop the mast. You don’t have to do the subtraction from a compass bearing or hit the MOB button on the GPS (processes you’re most likely not practiced at that take your focus off the victim). This is crucial in situations where a heavy chop causes you to lose sight of the person in the water, as it will return you to a point where you can see them.
When we teach it in class, we are in a controlled setting where all of the crew knows what is going on. Yet when it happens in real life, you will not have any warning, and now are likely to be either alone without crew, or with family or friends who are not sailors. If the former, you have to do all of the jobs yourself—tossing a type 4, spotting, retrieving the boat hook and lines, handling sails—while at the same time perfectly steering through the figure eight pattern. If the latter, frantic guests will not understand why you are sailing away from their loved one, and may scream at you or even try to take the helm or jump in the water. The situation may be extremely chaotic, adding to your own considerable stress. This is when your practice will save the day.
We use START Back: Shout “man overboard!”-Throw the type 4-Appoint a spotter- get on a beam Reach-Tack. After practice, we should be able to accomplish the first four steps in 10 to 15 seconds and be sailing away from the victim on a beam reach. You need to turn to a beam reach quickly, lest the geometry of the figure eight is thrown out of whack. If executed properly, the entire maneuver should place you next to the person in the water in 90 seconds with the boat stopped, the goal we shoot for in all conditions. It is also wise to remember that, contrary to what you may think, the rules of the road are not suspended during your maneuvering. Other skippers cannot be depended on to notice you have a person in the water, and you don’t want to make a bad situation worse by causing an accident.
After sailing a few boat lengths and tacking, stay on a beam reach until you spot the victim, and then head about 1-1/2 boat lengths to leeward of them. Then when they are about 45 degrees to windward off the bow, head up and lean to leeward so you can keep them in sight. With practice, you can get the boat dead stopped just to windward—and you must. If you can’t get the boat stopped, you will not have enough time to secure the victim to the boat before you’ve sailed right past. (If this happens, start the maneuver from the beginning as you cannot wish the sailboat back to the victim.)
If you are alone or with non-sailors, you will have to trim the main for a beam reach yourself. This doesn’t have to be fancy, as you’re not racing; just put the boom approximately over the corner of the cabin top. You will almost certainly have to leave the helm to do this except on our small boats. The main will not have to be touched again through the whole maneuver, and is especially unwise to do so when making the final approach to the victim. When trimmed for a beam reach, it will automatically luff as you head up to a close reach, without your having to touch the sheet. This is not the time you want to leave the helm and take your eyes off the victim to do something that has no effect. As to the jib, in real life I would just release it and let it flail. The sheet may find the water and give the victim his only chance of grabbing something. There is nothing to hold on to on the side of a boat. You don’t need the extra sail; we want to be going slow. However, at Tradewinds we don’t have you do this when practicing, as flogging the jib is a good way to damage it. So practice with the jib but don’t worry about it in a true emergency.
As to entertaining the idea that if you don’t know how to manage the return under sail, you’ll just start the motor: forget it. This is at times used on fully-crewed ocean-going boats who have practiced it. You can’t do a figure-eight with a spinnaker up, for example. But for ordinary sailing, the sails will not allow normal maneuvering under power and in fact will create the danger of an accidental jibe. Alternatively, if you choose to get them down, by the time you do you’ll have lost sight of the victim.
Back to that accidental jibe, a rookie mistake. We had sailed into Marina Bay well over 100 times without a problem. The jib had been furled and to start the engine, I needed to leave the helm for about two seconds on Maverick to switch to the starter battery. That day the wind had just a bit more west in it than normal, and the buildings upwind had created turbulence in their lee. This had never presented a problem before, but today a shift occurred just when I left the helm, and the boom came over. Our ASA procedure is to go forward on the windward side, which is where Terry was; but this, it should be clear, is safe only when on a beam reach or above. On a broad reach, it is safer use the leeward side, as the boom will swing away from you.
Terry and I have been through quite a few close calls, but because we have a mysterious connection with good fortune, we have managed them all. This was one that never happened again.
You don’t want to be slipping on the deck of a boat. At best, you look the fool. At worst, you’re in the drink. And in between, there’s a bunch of stuff to knock your head or bruise your backside on. Believe it or not, the best thing to do, although they deny this in all the sailing books, is to go barefoot. Bare feet have something even the most advanced sailing footwear can’t provide: nerve endings. When you step on a slippery surface in your bare feet, you can tell before you fall that you have no traction. This is better than finding out when you’re fanny-over-teakettle. “Crivens! That was slippery!” Of course, there will be the occasional broken toe when your naked foot encounters a cleat or block, but everything’s a compromise.
That’s fine for the tropics, but in the extra-tropics where we are, I’m not man enough to go barefoot. Cold feet are one thing when you’re about to get married, but quite another when your actual feet are cold. So San Francisco sailors wear stuff on their feet. Typically, this is a sailing boot that is tall and made out of some rubber-like product. They are hard to get on and off, cold, and clammy.
Of course, in pleasant weather, any athletic shoe will do, but wear Sperry Topsiders only at the risk of being considered a snotty yachtsperson. OK, I have a pair, I confess, snotty yachtie that I am. But consider this: Once we looked into a race from Fiji to Vanuatu, which we unfortunately couldn’t work into our schedule, and there were some serious rules to be obeyed on pain of disqualification. I’m not making this up: 1) The first boat across the finish line was immediately disqualified. 2) Any boat flying light air sails was disqualified. This was fine with us. We had a spinnaker, but we didn’t know how to use it. Who does, anyway? 3) Anyone wearing Sperry Topsiders was disqualified. Bear this in mind if you want to compete at the highest levels.
But getting back to the boots, I always wonder why people really need that height. How many times on a sail around the Bay have you had ten inches of water in the cockpit?
In the winter or wet weather I wear duck boots. L.L. Bean, and I mean, Leon Leonwood Bean himself, invented them.
But there are lots of knock-offs and they come in a variety of heights. They lace up so you can adjust them to the perfect comfy snugness. You can buy them lined with insulation so they are nice and toasty. Should you find yourself swimming, it is possible to untie them and kick them off. The best thing is, their gum soles are as sticky as any boat shoe you can buy—even if they aren’t as secure as bare feet.
They may not be fashionable, I don’t know. Sometimes people laugh at me, but there could be other reasons for this.
Even though the term may not be common up here in the land of the America’s Cup, I’ve heard headsails called “headies” by those sailors from down under who seem to keep winning everything. There sure are a lot of names that these sails are known by, compared to that workhorse piece of canvas aboard, the mainsail. A small change in a headsail can make a tremendous difference in a boat’s performance, especially upwind, so it’s not surprising that sailors are a bit obsessed with them. Here are a few names you may have heard: Yankee, drifter, windseeker, #4, genoa, ghoster, blade, 135%, storm jib, working jib, reacher, screecher, blooper, big boy, gennaker, jib top, staysail, gollywhomper, code zero, spinnaker, asymmetric spinnaker, cruising ‘chute.
The
term “headsail” refers to any sail set foreward of the forewardmost mast. The
next most general term is “jib.” According to the PHRF rules, a jib is “any
sail, other than a spinnaker, that is to be set in the fore triangle.” (“Other
than a spinnaker” would seem to be an unnecessary refinement, since the
spinnaker is flown outside of the
fore triangle.) So a spinnaker is a headsail but not a jib.
All
genoas are jibs, but not all jibs are genoas. A genoa is an overlapping
headsail, where the jib may or may not be. The overlap referred to is that of
the clew of the genoa, which overlaps the luff of the mainsail. A more specific
way to describe the size of any jib is by a percentage, e.g., 135%. This number
is the ratio between the LP of the headsail and “J.” The LP, or longest
perpendicular, is the length of a line through the clew, perpendicular to the
luff. “J” is the distance between the pin of the forestay and the mast.
Another
common way of referring to headsail size is by numbers: #1 would be the largest
jib on the boat, #2 a little smaller, etc. For spinnakers, the numbering may be
S1, S2, or for asymmetrical spinnakers, A1 and A2. This system is relative to
the sail inventory on a particular boat, so your #1 could be another boat’s #2.
The
speed of the America’s Cup catamarans have made traditional spinnakers
irrelevant and all headsails have lost their former pre-eminence to the wing. Us
commoners can still have our blades and Yankees, however, until we go that
fast.
Baseball and fishing such as bass fishing have opening days for the season, but what opens? A gate? A bottle? In the case of sailing on San Francisco Bay there was once something that actually did open on opening day.
In many parts of the country, the climate dictates that boats be taken out of the water for winter, so it’s natural for there to be some sort of celebration when they are recommissioned in the spring. Despite our more temperate climate, the custom was brought here and observed at scattered locations where boats were kept in the 19th century.
In the late 1800s, some people owned houseboats that they called “arks.” They spent the summer months anchored in quiet Belvedere Cove where the San Francisco Yacht Club is now, but in winter things could get somewhat dicey in the open water. Tiburon Lagoon (now filled in) on the back side of Corinthian Island provided excellent protection, but Main Street, which connected Tiburon to Beach Road and Belvedere Island, would have been in the way. A drawbridge was constructed that permitted the arks to pass into the lagoon for winter on “closing day” in the fall. When the bridge was opened in the spring, “opening day” featured a celebration and parade. Below is a photo from Belvedere looking towards Corinthian Island in summertime, with arks anchored in Belvedere Cove. The place where the bridge once was is circled.
If you go to Tiburon, walk west along Main Street and just after it curves to the right and uphill, on your right you’ll see many of the quaint old arks, now firmly anchored on land. Behind them where the parking lot is now was once Tiburon Lagoon, and just over the hill and down the road from the arks was the location of the bridge.
The Pacific Inter-Club Yacht Association (PICYA), formed in San Francisco in 1896, united local celebrations, including Tiburon’s, into a sail called a “Cruise in Squadron” in 1917. This became Opening Day and is still organized by the PICYA. In 1963, a “Blessing of the Fleet,” based on a tradition of blessing fishing boats that dates from at least medieval times, was added specifically for recreational boats under the auspices of Tiburon’s Corinthian Yacht Club.
Should you wish to participate, the Blessing of the Fleet occurs this year on April 28 beginning at 1030 near the Corinthian. You’ll see a line of boats forming near the east end of Raccoon Strait. Proceed under power and join in. If you want to be in the parade of boats along the CityFront, here is all the info you need plus how to register.
If you wish to watch it but not participate, please observe the restricted area maintained by the Coast Guard.
A video of this correspondent participating in the blessing of the fleet, along with shipmate Terry Shrode in a fashionable hat, can be found here.
