The rest we’ve enjoyed in Sausalito has been lovely, rejuvenating. The crew has been getting a lot of sleeping in, catching up on hours lost and banking for the hours yet to lose. Each has wandered in search of just “enough" tourism. I’ve been using the time more for catching up on route planning, but hope to get out with Kay today to see the bridge from Vista Point. That is, if it can be seen: fog and gusty winds have been the order of the day. It’s a good couple days to be in port if the forecasts are accurate. From the wind swirling into the marina, it seems to be.
4pm Update: Kay and I Uber'd to a trailhead above Sausalito that promised trails up to a ridge leading to the Golden Gate Bridge. The higher we hiked, the further into the howling wind and fog we got, until we found ourselves in a tree dripping induced rainfall and horizontally propelled fog in a thirty knot wind. It was cold and wet and the full three mile hike to the bridge in such conditions did not appeal to us.
So after only half a mile, we hiked out again and then Uber’d (actually Lyft’d) our way back into town where we split an order of fish and chips. It was a warm, sunny, if windy day in town - quite pleasant. We shopped for a few provisions and returned to the boat and found ourselves in gale force winds again. Looking up at the ridge we had hiked to, it was clear to see the clouds/sea fog surging over the top of.
Boats are really rocking in the harbor under small craft advisories. We’re glad to be in here and not out in the ocean in this. The word in the guidebooks is that this kind of weather comes in every week or ten days like clockwork.
The plan is to leave tomorrow at 2pm. hopefully things will have settled by then. We’ll do a sixteen hour passage to Monterey and check out their aquarium before setting out for Catalina Island the following morning. that will be our last multiple day passage on this leg of the trip before we make another sixteen hours into San Diego.
Sausalito on our first night in calmer conditions
There is a phrase, attributed to Mark Twain, that goes something like, "The coldest winter I ever saw was the summer I spent in San Francisco." Guess you've had a taste of that now!
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