We were to meet around 3 pm at the boat, so I did not have much time when I landed from the Alcatraz ferry. Before flying to SFO, I'd splurged and taken T-Mobile's offer for their free trial of the data plan, so there I was with a phone in my hand and Google maps running on it, and since it did not have a GPS I still had to locate my exact position on the map and work from there. Nonetheless this was a great help when it came to finding a grocery store to buy a portable dinner for this evening on the boat. Walking to the Marina, I took in all the sights - Fort Mason, then all the richly decorated, impeccably maintained homes and buildings on Cervantes Blvd and Marina Blvd. As I was walking on the latter and looking at the homes facing the Bay, I had this strange feeling - this really, really reminds me of somewhere, but where? Was that Belgium, or was that... right here 20 years ago? After a few minutes of superimposing my memories and the scenery, I came to the conclusion that yes I had walked this exact same path 20 years earlier with the person I now called my wife, on our way to crossing the bridge by foot one way, and in the back of a police car the other way.
After an hour I was in the vicinity of Elise but there's really several Marinas and buildings there so I had to call Nathalie and describe to her what I was seeing so that she could let me know that no, the Harbor Office on Marina Green Dr was not the right place, and I had to continue walking for another 20 minutes... which I did until finally Nathalie arrived and showed me the boat. It was already in the water, a cute light boat about the same size as that of the one I'd sailed on for the first and last time until then about 15 years earlier. Preparations began, I put all my gear in the cabin, hoping that no sea water would reach it, and tried to imitate on the port side what she was doing on the starboard side (I'm showing off here, I'm really thinking left and right). I used to windsurf 25 years ago so I know what a sail is and the principles of wind, but with a boat I was a noob so I asked that Nathalie please check what I did - we don't want anything bad to happen exiting the port or en route. I even got to do some of the heavy lifting but same thing here, how much force was I supposed to apply? Well nothing broke or snapped that day so I suppose that the job was appropriate. In retrospect, maybe I set things up for the mast to break a couple months later in a race? Shh, don't tell Nathalie... In any case the boat was ready and we started the outing.
The wind came in quickly out of the port, and the boat tilted more than I expected it to - but that was fun, that's the kind of action that you want when you have to go from A to B. And all the while, Nathalie was tweaking that boat - pulling on a rope here, loosening that one, and even changing the angle of the mast itself. Now with the speed of the boat, the incline, and all the activity, I knew why she insisted - but still leaving me the choice - that I wear a life vest back at the port. Hey, like I keep telling my kids, the 1st thing to think about is safety, so I had taken the vest and strapped it on tight. At some point Nathalie told me to look forward and up. There was the Golden Gate Bridge, with all the thinking and the activity I had not seen it coming! In no time we were passing it and technically we were on the Pacific and out of the Bay. In my book it was a windy day, so the boat kept going and we made a turn then another one and we were racing back to the bridge.
That's when Nathalie pulled all the stops and got the spinnaker out. That colored sail gave great beauty to the boat. This time I was not going to let the bridge catch me by surprise. We were at just the right angle, and the sun was hitting it from behind us so going underneath it I took it all in. That was truly an emotional passage - that is one big piece of engineering, so high up there, glowing so red in the low rays of the setting sun. You could hear the traffic above us. I had no idea 20 years earlier that one day I'd be crossing the bridge that way! My first experience sailing was between Golfe du Morbihan and the island of Houat, and in that Golfe you have to account for tidal currents, because they're so strong that you can't sail against them. Also this very morning at Alcatraz I'd learned that the most likely outcome for the successful prison break out is that the men had drifted to the Pacific and disappeared. So at port I'd asked Nathalie about tide schedule and current forces, and she told me not to worry about this. Now under the bridge we were at ground zero and clearly, Elise was doing her job of taking us where we wanted. Just overshoot a little and you'd be fine.
I was driving and loving it. Nathalie was probably a little nervous because she'd engaged the auto-pilot and that's an expensive piece of equipment. Steering too briskly or too far could break it. I knew I was going to be fine with it but of course she could not read my mind. Last time we'd met was 3 days ago for 3 hours, and before then was 9 years earlier in a work environment! The plan now was to go around Angel Island, check out Alcatraz, and return to port. The sun set while we started going around the island and soon enough we were in pitch dark. The moon was a thin crescent at a low elevation, and the wind disappeared behind the island, measuring at 0.1 knot.
The only recourse was the engine to get us out of that spot. There was some confusion there - Nathalie first tried to start it and I relayed her quickly. We wondered how much gasoline was in the tank so I tried to open the cap but... all I could find was a hole with no cap, and not even a thread! Did I break something trying to start that engine? After some looking and touching we determined that the plastic case had come loose so Nat snapped it back in place, put some gas in, and I was back at the rope pulling and sweating but not swearing on account of a lady being present. After a while the engine started to sputter. It took several more determined pulls to start it in earnest. I think that this engine has a mind of its own and just used me to warm it up before it would start the fire in its belly.
With the engine running and Nathalie driving I looked at the island. We were close to it, and I could see the dark shapes of pine trees on the steep, tall slopes, and the stars above. Very soon we were behind the wind-shadow of the island and could resume sail navigation. At this point, we needed to return if I was going to catch my flight. So we just munched on some veggies, and left the rest of the goodies in the cabin, including the Coppola wine that Nat had confirmed we could open: this was a french boat and of course she had a corkscrew. Where that bottle is today I don't know, I hope that she shared it with good friends one evening of laughter and companionship.
We were heading straight for the port and noticed with amusement and curiosity that the entrance was marked by a single light - the red one - when we were expecting two. At least the color told us what side to shoot for. Wind was good and no other boat was around. The absence of man-made noise was surprising given that we were getting quite close to civilization now, but it was welcome. Soon we were entering the port, the wind was weak at 2 knots and facing us too. The surface of the water was like a mirror, yet the boat driven by Nathalie was very much moving forward. This looked impossible, not just to me, but also to a man standing at the end of a pier watching us who asked incredulously whether we were using a motor. Sailing upwind with no noise, alone in the dark, on still water - that was a magical moment. It was also a good exercise in trust, like when we were kids and we would fall backwards into the arms of a friend: Nathalie steered the boat and came so close to moored boats before turning that I had to look at her and read her face and see that she was in control.
In the end Nathalie used the rudder to help the boat move and we finally wedged ourselves between 2 boats after Nathalie persuaded an owner to moor their ship a little further. At that point I wish that I could have helped her put stuff away but it was really late and I was trying to find ways to connect to the internet with my phone, or my laptop, or her phone in order to postpone my flight. When that did not work Nathalie rushed me to the airport. Since the traffic was light we made it and I returned home where I could enjoy the rest of the Indian summer. Nathalie - thanks for the outing, it is a great memory and I won't wait another 9 years before I pay you a visit again!
Courtesy of Benoit
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