Seattle - San Francisco (Part III)

We join the crew of Ho-Beaux as they pull out of the Crescent City harbor. A large 8-10 foot swell greets them as they round the breakwater and are exposed to the open ocean. But strange, rather than the forecast 20 knots wind, there is... nothing. Nary a puff to be found. And let me tell you, out of all the conditions to be out in, apart from, say, a hurricane, nothing is worse than a big swell and no wind. The forward motion and lean of a sailboat stabilizes it; without wind, the waves rock the boat back and forth. You've got to keep the mainsail up to damp the motion a bit, but then the sail slaps and jerks back and forth with the boat, shaking everything with a jarring "thunk!" each time. Ugh.

We forgot the logbook again, so I'll spare you the details of each day. No matter, they more or less blend together anyways. The first couple were spent in the uncomfortable conditions described above. Catching the occasional light breeze, we made slow progress Southward. After a couple days, still no wind, but the seas flattened out. It wasn't really unpleasant to spend the day on deck, relaxing in the sun and reading. Every time a light breeze came up, we'd spring into action, setting the sails and windvane, and making a couple hours' progress before the wind died.

So, blah, blah, we made it to the Bay Area. Yay.

What was noteworthy about the voyage was the wildlife. The best story? We're sitting in the cockpit reading on an especially calm day. Out of the sky comes this little puffball -- I think he was a sparrow? -- who lands on the deck a few feet away. Now, we're something like 40 miles offshore at the time, and he's a land bird who eats bugs and stuff, so I've no clue what he was thinking flying out there. The boat, as mentioned previously, makes all sorts of creaky clacky noises, and he's scared of every sound. He's clearly exhausted from flying, so eventually he convinces himself that it's not worth being scared, and goes to sleep.

We made an effort to not be too threatening, and he got used to us moving around, and would hop all over the deck around us, pecking at dustballs, flecks of dirt, and whatnot. We thought he might be hungry, and put out some food, but he wouldn't touch it. Apparently, sparrows don't like:
- Cocoa Puffs
- Crushed almonds
- Wheat crackers
- Red bell peppers
- Bread crumbs
That's why I think he likes bugs.

He kept trying to walk through the plexiglass dropboards on our hatch:


He'd fly away from time to time, realize there's no land in sight, come back aboard, and hop around some more. One time, he flew over the plexiglass dropboards and into our cabin. The last we saw him, he was in the bunk we use to store various large items; suddenly he was gone. Either he finally flew away to his doom, or he had a birdie-heart-attack and is deceased in our bunk; we haven't found him yet. [Editor's Note: It was a birdie-heart-attack. M found his corpse under our vacuum cleaner cord.]

Sea Lions:
An albatross:
A Humpback whale:

Point Reyes:
Pelicans:
Lots of birds:

A pelican diving for supper:

Approaching Golden Gates. . .


The bay is crowded! After barely dodging an army of aggressive racing boats we learned that the Saturday we arrived was in the middle of the Big boat Rolex series or something to that effect.

So, we're here, and probably will be until at least mid November. Anyone who'd like to visit is welcome.