Freedom
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.
