When I arrived at the yacht marina in the morning, only two people showed up for this team-building event: me and the captain of the borrowed yacht.
It was a beautiful sailboat from a French maker called Beneteau. I told the captain this was my first time on a private yacht in an open sea. I took one Bonine two hours before, so I likely will avoid making a messy scene. I didn’t tell him I bought two medicine brands and tested one 24 hours earlier.
And I also did not tell him how many decades I have been waiting for this moment to sail in this iconic bay to have one bucket list todo to be checked, since both my dad and my brother already did it with one of my mom’s distant uncle who owned a yacht at the Bay. And they did it in the 80s of last century!
I don’t want to give him too much mental pressure, which I sensed was already piling up on his mind.
“Hum, you’ll need to be responsible for the lines!”
I timidly asked whether I needed to google what “lines” meant for a yacht, trying to give some hints that I knew absolutely nothing about yachting and how to help.
The captain took some heavy contemplations and forged a mental plan.
“Today’s wind is mild, and the weather is good. Let’s target to tour the bay bridge, San Francisco harbors, Alcatraz, then go to Angles Island for lunch and return.”
So we took off, and there started my maiden voyage on a real sailing boat with just me and the captain.
I almost had to pinch myself to believe my luck in getting such an all-exclusive private sailing tour.
While slowly sailing out of the mooring harbor, I got my first assignment to pull out the four fenders. I had a hard time taking them off the rail, as I did not know how to handle clips. The captain abandoned his tightly guarded wheel and rushed to show me how. (Later, I learned these four fenders were clipped with Davis Instruments Fender Tender)
With the first commotion settled Captain was in a good mood. And in no time, suddenly at the front, a big sail opened up within a few seconds.
“Where did this sail come from?! “ I exclaimed like a five-year-old just witnessed a magician pulling off a trick, stunned by how fast that sail was up and flapping like the wings of a big bird who just took off from the ground.
Captain shot me back a bewildered look and said nothing. Only later could I tell how speechless he must have been to deal with his newly recruited only crew, who did not even know how this front sail was stationed. I later did my catchup homework and learned the jargon of this front vertical sail is called In-Mast Furling Mainsails.
My extreme novice quickly sank in, and Captain started to show me how to manage the lines of this furling mainsail, which I gingerly practiced and barely helped.
“We’ll not hoist this second mainsail today because that needs at least another one or two persons to pull these extra lines on top of what you are doing.” The rough, good-looking captain revealed his very gentle soul, trying not to hurt my feelings.
The wind was perfect, and we pushed towards the Bay Bridge and the San Francisco harbors. We were almost the only sailing yacht in that hour’s main bay. It made this sailing even more special.
Captain allowed me to hold the wheel while pretending I was in charge. He also showed me how to tell if the sail was in a good position to gain wind power. I did experience how the contraction of the sail and the wind passed onto the wheel in my hands. It was such a wonderful sensation.
And of course, we spotted dolphins and sea lions or sea otters. I was smiling ear to ear.
“5 to 6 knots is better than I expected,” Captain claimed. I nodded unknowingly and almost wanted to pull out my phone to Google, “What is the speed of a knot.” (Only during my catchup homework time I realized how boring to him to have only one furling mainsail to carry on the trip on such a perfect day, but I greatly appreciated his precaution decision.)
We sailed to the great view of the Bay Bridge, Alcatraz, and the grand view of the San Francisco city harbors. Then we headed for Angel Island’s Ayala Cove.
While we made the turn and got closer to the cove, Captain started to drill me on how to quickly jump out of the boat and tie the mooring ropes to the dock in which order.
“These mooring ropes are not the right type, but we should be ok.” Captain sounded a bit worried and more of a talking to-himself way.
Then I was asked to bring these four fenders out from the cabin and hang them out to prepare for the mooring.
The first was fastened and thrown out of the rail with a blast.
Then, when I fastened the second one and threw it out, the clip just jerked, and within a second, the whole thing fell off and landed in the water with a splash!
“Oh, no!!!!”
My instant reaction was, once again, wanting to pull out my phone and Google “where to find a fender that looks like this and express delivery.”
Captain had different ideas.
First, he sent me to search for a long rod with a hook. I failed to find anything except for a rod with nothing on it.
The lost fender was floating in the ocean’s choppy water, up and down, dancing and laughing at us. Strangely it was almost not quickly drifting away as I thought it should be but staying relatively in the same spot.
“It is because the wind is blowing opposite of the current. Let’s give it a try. I am maneuvering towards it, and you just stay at the rear end of the boat to fetch it.”
I could not believe what I just heard. It was such an out of box thinking and action to a tech nerd like myself. But I was feeling so bad about my clumsiness of losing it, so I nodded and went into action.
Besides, the water looked so tempting I almost wanted to jump in, especially when I lowered my upper body as close as possible to the water whenever Captain yelled, “Look out, it is coming!”
We had a close encounter five or six times, where my left hand was four or five feet away from the fender, but the wave just pushed it out in the end.
During the course, I could not help but admire how skillful the Captain was able to command this big yacht to get so close to that tiny wobbly fender. And more impressively, he could hardly see it at all from where he was standing behind the wheel.
“Let’s give it another try,” Captain sounded very patient and encouraging. I bet he would have been a super good team lead material in the corporate world.
So we circled around and around near the ferry line between Tiburon and Angle Island. There were hatch’s sailing passing us, and possibly one ferry ship went by. No one seemed paying any special attention to us. It was so surreal that I could not hide my silly smile.
Meanwhile, I almost could tell Captain was fast mastering the maneuvering tactics by observing the wave, the wind, and the power of the push of the current brought by the boat’s turn, so in the last attempt, the fender just finally sort of landed into my overstretched left hand, while my whole upper body hanging upside down outside of the rear deck with my right hand hold tight on a rail string.
Captain swiftly ran over to pull the fender from my tightly gripped left hand.
That’s the highlight of the trip! We made it! I pulled myself up from the bottom of the boat and could not wait to give Captain my high five, so I patted his turn-away legs instead.
Even though I earned some credits by fetching back the lost fender, Captain had already lost confidence to moor our boat to Ayala Cove. First, we lost time for most by using only one furling sail and then fetching the lost fender; secondly, the afternoon wind was picking up. On top of that, we also needed the proper mooring ropes he was very fussy about. Lastly I would be a super unreliable crew to help him to tie/release these ropes when we were to be docking/departing there.
Captain did not spell out any of these above facts but just politely repeatedly asking me whether I still really want to park at the Ayala Cove.
I told him I had been already supper happy to get this far and would have absolutely no problem skipping Ayala Cove to have an easy, worry-free sailing back to the harbor.
Sure we did.
While we were tidying up, I told him I almost wanted to jump into the ocean to fetch the runaway fender. The water looked tempting and friendly, even though a bit choppy.
“Oh no! The water is freaking cold. If you go down, I have to jump in to rescue you.”
I did not tell him that I believed my swimming capacity should be able to handle this. And I was planning to wear beneath my clothes the tiger shark trailblazer ocean suit I bought from my last summer’s Hawaii trip, just in case I might need to go into the water. But at the last minute I changed my mind.
I also did not tell him that I somehow so blindly trusted him that I felt safe to be unsafe along with him on this boat.
It’s a fine maiden short voyage in this beautiful bay that meant so much to me.
Thank you Captain.
