Tuesday, the 4th, dawned warm and sunny, and I headed out with Mischa and Ari.  At last, Ari was on my boat and I got to hear him pronounce it "FABulous!"  I’d been waiting a year to hear that.  They quickly adapted to boat life, despite some queasiness.

We had a brilliant sail around Alcatraz.  There were surprisingly few boats out that day.  I guess they were waiting for evening for the fireworks to go out.  Mischa and Ari were good crew for never having sailed before: I believe they read my shirt and adapted accordingly.

We headed in fairly early due to crew queasiness (but at least there was no puking this time) and were met at the dock by Chris and Ken, who welcomed us on to their boat to picnic away the rest of the day.

Chris and Ari went off to buy supplies at Molly Stones while Mischa, Ken and I put the Indian Summer to bed for the night.  Yes, Anna, I did flush the engine.  Then we sat around on the Nova Gina, eating, talking and perhaps, maybe, there may have been some drinking.

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Mischa and I were both photoing the goings on and beauty of the day.  Chris and Ken were looking really adorable, 3 days after their 20th anniversary party.  Ken curled up to nap right by Chris and I thought it would be a great shot and I could make it better... if only.. I…can … just ….. climb up …. here on the back… stay to ..get …the right….angl..AAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ass over teakettle into the harbor.  With my camera.

Underwater is kind of this color.  Really quite beautiful, and very refreshing.  Apparently I was underwater long enough to make everyone worry.  By the time I got over the shock of "I think I fell in!" and surfaced, Chris had prepared a life ring to throw, and Ari was on the dock waiting to pull me up.  There was quite an argument that went like this: "Give me your hand" "No, save my camera!" "No, get out of the water" "No, save my camera!" Finally, they agreed to take my camera first (even then I knew it was dead but I still had hope) and then hauled me out.  I was laughing too hard to really help pull myself out of the harbor.  Luckily, Ari’s a strong guy.  And Mischa has her priorities in order.  Once she saw that I was okay, she took photos.  When BoatGirl Fell Into the Bay.

Other people sitting on their boats applauded, and later, any time a boat went past, the sailors (even 7 year old ones) would yell at me "Don’t fall off the boat!"

While it was shocking while I fell, and hitting the water, it all seemed quite normal, and as I thought about it later, I realized its because I’ve spent a large portion of my life falling into water, starting with my attempt at age 1 to swim in the large central tank at the Boston Aquarium.  My parents held me back there, but I did manage to fling my shoes in so a diver had to get them.

Then there was the natural whirlpool on Jamestown when I was 7, falling off the Galilee breakwater when I was 9, fording the Pemigewasset River the first week of May, innumerous times off the coast of Maine year round, falling into the Fish River in Namibia with a full pack on my back, and I don’t know how many times I’ve heard myself say," No, really, I can do this" followed by a splash.  Is this normal?

I went to look up a specific Dorothy Parker poem that I quote a lot, and found one that I’d never seen before, but which is oh so perfect, what with the title and all.  I have to add it here. 

Indian Summer

In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.
But now I know the things I know,
And I do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!

            ~ Dorothy Parker ~

Now that my baby is safely harbored in Sausalito, all I want to do is sail.  So, the day after I moved into the new ‘hood, I took Carlos, Javier and Kathy out sailing. 

Kathy was well doped up on Dramamine and Carlos made fabulous sandwiches as galley boy.  I actually have high hopes for Javier - he’s possibly the first person I’ve ever had onboard to actually spend serious time at the tiller learning how to control the boat.  He did quite well, bringing us most of the way on tacks across the bay out towards the Gate.  Why is this such a big thing?  Well, being captain is a huge responsibility, you know, its like being management.  And what does being management mean? 

You delegate responsibility. 

When there is no one on board except me who knows how to control the boat, I can’t delegate responsibility, thus I can’t do things like sit in front of the mast for long periods of time, nap, pee, or fall off the boat (Foreshadowing alert!!! tune in to a later episode). 

We went out under the Golden Gate Bridge, where it was a bit foggy.  It was very exciting as it was only the second time I’ve taken the Indian Summer out and we went quite a bit farther this time.  Coming back in under the bridge we saw dolphins!!!  Unfortunately, we didn’t get any photos of them because it was about that time that Javier lost his lunch overboard.  He has the dubious honor  of being the first person to throw up on the boat and I have to thank him for aiming overboard!  Hmm, perhaps he’s learned a new form of calling dolphins?

  We then went over to picnic and nap on Angel Island.  I didn’t think I’d have any photos of that (more foreshadowing) because my camera is … incapacitated, but due to the wonders of technology, some shots were salvaged.

Then we stole one of the trams and took it for a joy ride around the island.  That is the beauty of having a boat - we can get to Angel Island after all the park employees have left for the day.  Hmm.  Its a government park, so is stealing the tram a felony?

Kathy drove, I’m going to say I was hijacked.  Yeah, that’s my story.

I think it was a great sail, and I’m loving the new dock.

The Second of July, Moving Day.

I said farewell to Cheech, Crystal Meth Dude, No Teeth Woman, and headed North with my trusty crew of Anna and Caroline.  We left the Oyster Point wind tunnel in fog and sailed towards the sun.

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We heeled way over, almost lost Caroline (that’s why her hair’s all wet), did lose Anna’s hat (I wanted to use the experience as a man-overboard drill but was outvoted), and spent quite a bit of time doing photo shoots. 

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I don’t recommend posing on the front of the boat facing back the way I did - I now have a pitch black, 5×3 inch (yes, I measured it) bruise on my butt from hitting the anchor cleat.  It was really tricky trying to explain that in the doctor’s office a few days later.

We sailed under the Bay Bridge, past Alcatraz, saw the Golden Gate Bridge, past Angel Island, and drank wine out of hurricane glasses.

Eventually, we made it safely into Sausalito, and I did a quite respectable docking.  This is good - my new dock neighbors didn’t see me during the learning months and hopefully will never see me miss the dock.  I’ll let them laugh at me for other reasons, like the one which occurred on the 4th of July and I’ll write about later.

Arrival in Sausalito, ie, moving up in the world.