
This weekend was my last family sailing trip in what could be anything from 6 months to a year. We took Glory Road, my parents' Catalina 36, out the estuary from Oakland/Alameda onto the SF Bay on Saturday morning.
Glory Road is more "my parents' boat" than "our boat"... because they bought it just two years ago, and I knew that I would be leaving sometime in the near future and it would never be my boat. My boat-- the boat my brother and I were raised on like a second home since I was 4 and he was 6-- is our McGregor 26, Sea Dancer. While I love Glory Road and have certainly been spoiled by the extra 10 feet of length and extra 4 feet of width (and enough feet in height that I can stand up), Sea Dancer is like my blankee.
There's a grudge-worthy backstory here: my mother decided to "improve" my blankee when I was about 9 or so because apparently it was looking pretty ratty and pathetic... and while the end result was nice it wasn't my blankee anymore. Sea Dancer and Glory Road are like that; I love the new boat and to be honest if I had to choose one to keep I'd keep the new boat, but it would never be like the boat I loved growing up.
The bay was wonderful this weekend. We picked up my aunt and uncle the night before we left, and then on Saturday we sailed over to pier 40 and picked up their older daughter Teresa (19) and her roomate Missy, the sweet Republic-to-be from Kansas. We gave Missy a bit of teasing about her politics, but nothing too bad. After all, it was her first time ever sailing before and she showed a natural aptitude for not oversteering. Trust me; curbing one's desire to oversteer that boat is hard.
Sailing both yesterday and today was brilliant. Very little fog since we didn't really get to actually sailing until 11:00 or so, and clear blue skies and from 15 to 25 knots of wind across the bay. Brilliant. We were heeled over often and had to reef in the mainsail---that means we tie down the bottom of the main sail to reduce overall sail size and thus reduce the amount of wind we catch so we can better control the boat.
On Saturday around midday we made our way into McCovey Cove, the little open water area next to ballpark and the bridge From where we anchored we could see the giant scoreboard, and the crowds and the street. And oh, could we hear the crowd. We had the little tv on down in the cabin and on the radio so we could keep up with the game as we watched the scoreboard and watched (twice!) small boaters and kayakers dive into the water to catch the stray baseballs. The kayakers do this every weekend during the season. GO BARRY BONDS! GO GIANTS!
The best part though? I GOT HOISTED UP THE MAST. I've never been hoisted up a mast before.
It was my cousin's idea. Teresa wanted to try being hoisted up, and then her friend wanted to too. And by the time they had both gone I was rearing to be hauled up as well. We have this nice harness seat thing that's sort of like a baby swing... you put your feet under the straps and sit in the chair, and they hoist the chair up a halyard to the top of the mast. There's several pulleys involved and it takes a lot of arm work by the person doing the cranking, in this case my dad and my Uncle Mark. We had a spare line attached to the lifevest so that if something happened to the halyard holding the chair, we would have another cord holding you from falling 50 feet onto our shiny white fiberglass deck.
I was third to go up, just before my mom, and I stayed up the longest. I loved it.
I took a camera so we got pictures of the boat from a bird's eye view, and I got some pictures of various family members, and pictures of the stadium and the bay from the higher perch. There was a giant stadium camera on the wall closest to us, and I got it to look at me. I don't know if I was on tv or not, but the camera held on me for at least a minute, while I was wavy like crazy and being cheeky... and still held on me when my parents and uncle decided to rock the boat. That stopped me looking at the camera and had me concentrating on fending off the mast with my feet. Kinda like repelling, but not actually going anywhere. In case you don't know, a little rocking to the hull means the top of the mast gets thrown around significantly. It was a blast. Also, the stadium crowd on our side was watching us pretty continuously as we each went up the mast, and they'd cheer and congradulate us on our bravery.
And then we had really good food that night (crabcakes...yum!) and shared desserts, and then had great sailing today before finally heading home to San Jose. I love boats. I hope UCI has a sailing club.