Friday, August 20, 2010

Alameda bound


The last time Jeff was at the helm was bringing I'O down to Redwood City: now we moved to Alameda. Jean asked for a seat at the helm and he is sitting on our horrible step that everyone hates. Hey, whatever works. We hads no wind, lots of wind, crazy wind - you name it we had it - almost every point of sail to get to our old slip. All the containers in the next yard are gone, but we are in a sheltered spot behind some bushes and the seawall - don'[t have to fight the afternoon howlers from over the hill at Pete's. WE have warmth - although summer is living up to Mark Twain's statement except for a few hours in the afternoon. Another hey, we could be sweltering in Az.
Jean always has to have a plan. Me, I have to have a meal plan and we did well in the sun. We felt like a cheap strip bunch coming up the Bay: clothes off, clothes on, clothes off....wind chill and then heat. Very strange day. We loved it.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The white dock blobs



Nycticorax Nycticorax likes to hang out on our dock post, and has an unearthly croak that sounds as if an opera soprano is strangling. Living on the water allows us to be close to all sorts of creatures: we are humbled by how George and Martha care for their teenaged geese children; awed by the spotted grey seal that likes to watch people on the boats and the worst of all - support bird's nests in our sails.

Yesterday we sailed back to Alameda, and upon inspecting the main before leaving the dock, discovered a nest with bird babies. Now this would just not do - we tried to move the nest with the babies, but they flew off - thank heaven they could fly. I moved the nest next door on a power boat that is in probate and hoped that the parents and babies would understand and find their way. If I thought about it for very long, it would be too depressing. We now understood why the Night Heron would sit on the pole for hours just waiting for lunch. Lunch for him was usually in the evening and night time, and we would wake to giant white splotches on the dock.

Good bye to Pete's Harbor was not in the least bittersweet, even if we were leaving friends we could drive to in a short time - but it was more of a hello, North Bay - we have to to cruise and explore. We hit every point of sail on the way up although the word "cunningham" was overused, we all now know what to do about it. Do not ignore the skipper.