Leaving Emery Cove — San Francisco to Half Moon Bay

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We sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge many times, and every time it felt like testing an idea. Imaginging our readiness and Allora’s. The lift of the unencumbered Pacific swell beckoned. It really did. If we had been sailors our whole lives, we might not have ever thought of it as such a big deal. Or maybe we would. Most everyone in Emery Cove seemed excited by the Gate. Maybe the power of the free ocean is something too big to grow cynical about. Maybe the idea of sailing out into that vastness, with a new boat, becoming smaller in a relative sense with each mile offshore, would be a big idea for almost anyone.

We started small and kept to the coast, though we heeed advice not to be tempted to cut the corner and head south to soon, but keep our course along the main shipping channel, even though the wind was light and the swell long and easy and another smaller sailboat took the shortcut ahead of us. “Coast Guard, Sector San Francisco” came on the VHF as we made the turn ahead of bouy “R2,” with an all stations “pon pon” alert. A sailing vessel, we could not see it (nor could we see the one that had cut the corner anymore), was in trouble in the surf somewhere along Ocean Beach. Monitoring Channel 16 keeps us from becoming complacent about the risks. The Pacific Ocean is not the sheltered waters of the Sea of Abaco in the Bahamas where ten feet of water is plenty. It was probably not that sailboat we saw, and the shortcut is only hazardous when the swell is running high, and dangerous in a storm, but it didn’t add much to swing wide and play it safe. We’ll leave the shortcuts to experienced sailors and locals.

We were happy to be sailing as the forecast was for light and variable winds, or no wind at all. I’d even contemplated delaying a day, but Marty from Emery Cove pointed out that morning that forecasts are often wrong. We pulled the genoa out, which we rarely used in the trafficky Bay and sailed the whole distance to Half Moon Bay. We carefully followed the bouys in past the reef which was lined with fishermen. Inside we lost a big of time to watching the whales which cruised inside the bay, then turned in by the breakwater, white and foul with pelican guano, a smell which dominated the harbor so intensely that we kept our hatches closed. It made a fine image.

We were close enough to shore all day that had cell service the whole way down, and Valerie made the drive from Stanford to meet us for dinner at a sleepy reastaurant along the wharf.

Sailing in San Francisco Bay

Allora’s logbook records more than 30 sails in San Francisco Bay while we were getting Allora ready to go. The wind blows nearly every day and builds to a crescendo in the afternoon. Usually we reefed our mainsail and still struggled to keep her from being overpowered.  There’s a lot of boat and ferry traffic, but its exciting sailing. Family and friends provided great excuses to get out, and Allora had lots of hands at the wheel.

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Emery Cove Yacht Harbor

We moved Allora over to Emery Cove Yacht Harbor from commissioning her in Oakland. Slip G5 became our home for the summer. We spent less than four months at Emery Cove. When we first walked it’s docks (before Allora arrived) the boats seemed empty, but they gradually filled with people, full of stories and wisdom. Our first conversations were about our new home, and of course, our plans. Diane, the Emery Cove Harbor Master, confided that she took for granted that we would end up postponing at least a year. She knew better than we could, the brazen naivite of our ambitions. We eventually began to feel a little embarassed about one sided dream sharing. Most were there doing this long way, years of saving up money and fixing up boats, waiting for children to be old enough for the journey, for a spouse or partner to retire. Our very shiny, brand new boat boat and constant trips to West Marine confirmed that we were burning cash to speed the process up. “You must be the rich man,” said an older live aboard while I shaved one morning. We tried to emphasize that we sold everything, sold the farm, to make this dream a reality. The thing is, though it wasn’t taking years, but weeks or months to make Allora seaworthy, we were working harder than we ever had.

We were astonished and overwhelmed by the enormity of the project of making a brand new boat seaworthy (something we might have been guilty of taking for a little for granted). Our days were non-stop right to the very last moment as our gooseneck had to be replaced after Diana found cracks in it and the bubble tangs which attach the shrouds to the mast reseated and riveted (new word to us… one of many), to the last minute project of seizing the deck shackles so that one twist of a screw, turned lose by the relentless motion of the sea, would not spell disaster. To our relief as we worked day in and out, the real sailors on our dock saw that we were doing most of outfitting ourselves, that we weren’t simply buying a dream, but also constructing it, through the long, ever lasting project of learning Allora in her most intimate details, the bruising, tedious, inspring work of crawling through her bilges, making her seaworthy. Crucial tips arrived in casual asides from more experienced sailors. Our neighbors began to feel that we doing some things well, and that was gratifying.

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Deeds:Diana

Allora Arrives in Oakland

June 4, 2015. CMA CGM Libra finally made it to Oakland. Allora had no masts or rigging and she was wrapped in plastic. Phil (the builder) arranged for a boat to take us out to the container ship to watch them unload her. Carmen McSpadden was visiting us that day, too, and despite serious resistance from the loud mouthed tow boat captain who insisted he didn’t have an extra life jacket, Diana wouldn’t let him leave Carmen behind. It was near sunset, with a dramatic sky. The Libra was gigantic and Allora looked like a toy being lowered by the crane. Phil jumped onboard and cut away the harness and some of the plastic. After a moment of hesitation the engine started and we climbed aboard too, waving to the Libra’s crew as we motored our newborn home down to Grand Marina in Alameda, to set her mast and sails.

Allora Splashes from M. Stevens on Vimeo.