A Different Sort of Nevada Day

Nevada celebrates its birthday, with special attention to its history

Dan, Helga, Ken, and I usually spend Nevada Day together, more or less, with 5,000 of our friends in Carson City celebrating the state's birthday. We usually settle in for breakfast at Mom & Pop's Diner, with the first part of the parade going by right outside the window as we lay in a base for the day's festivities. After breakfast, we walk up Carson Street and then head over to the Old Globe, and stake our claim to one of the few tables out in front of the bar. We stay there most of the day, greeting old friends and new, since everyone in the post-parade crowd usually drifts through the Old Globe at some point.

This year, we were up for a change. It could be that last year, the Old Globe removed the tables and chairs from the space in front of the bar, robbing us of our usual spot. It could be that after 20 years of the same ritual, it was getting old. It could also be that I had just gotten a boat four months before, and it was a long weekend to possibly spend on the boat. I checked with Dan, who was up for the change, and then invited Ken to join us. Ken and boats aren't on very familiar terms, but he eventually agreed to join us, with keen interest mixed with trepidation.

Dan decides the helm is a good place to set down your drink and have a phone conversation

Dan joined us Thursday for cocktails and dinner. I wasn't sure how Dan would like the V-berth, but he didn't have any complaints.

Sun sets on the marina and over Brooks Island. The island blocks our view of downtown San Francisco but makes a great natural breakwater for the Richmond harbor area and is a great home to thousands of birds.

 Ken joined us bright and early Friday morning. I topped up the boat's onboard water and we cast off. We were leaving too early to have a favorable tide headed up San Pablo Bay, so we headed straight for San Francisco, then turning to take a lap around Angel Island before heading to San Pablo Bay.

A couple of clowns motoring out through the channel. Dan is demonstrating his reading-glasses-over-sunglasses trick.

Ken, quietly and on his own, is acclimating. That is the port running backstay in the foreground, for those with nautical interest.

For a little while, on San Francisco Bay, there was enough wind to sail. Ken and Helga lounging in the cockpit.

The bay ferries were about the only company we had going up San Pablo Bay. The ferries aren't shy at all about getting close to other boats.

An oil tanker unloading, with the Carquinez I-80 bridge in the background. The entrance to the Napa River is to the left of the bridge, but a little hard to see from this angle. Our destination, the Vallejo Yacht Club, is a few miles up the river.

 

There is a lot of old naval infrastructure on Mare Island, that makes the west bank of the Napa River, on this part of the river. We are getting very close to the yacht club.

After a long day sailing, there is nothing quite like a beer.

Ken, with the VYC bar in the background.

The VYC bar, a great place to have a beer, or three.

We spent an uneventful night in Vallejo, and departed promptly the next morning because Vallejo to Oakland is a bit of a trip.

Leaving Vallejo in some fog under power.

 
 The return trip across San Pablo Bay was fairly placid; not much wind but enough to be worth raising the main sail and shaking out all the reefs.

A rare sight for my boat on the San Francisco Bay; the main sail completely unreefed.

Coming back under the 580 bridge, I didn't know for sure, but suspected there might be some wind ahead so we put the first reef back in the main. And there was. We had great sailing until we passed the south end of Angel Island and promptly entered "the slot", that bit of the bay where the wind has a straight shot in from the Pacific, past the Golden Gate Bridge. The winds picked up from 8-12, to 12-18 knots, with a beam reach headed to the west side of Treasure Island. Dan and I were having a great time, Helga was looking at me like we ought to have another reef in, and Ken became glued in the companionway with about 1/3 of his body sticking out above the deck. I think he was too fascinated to take refuge below, and too terrified to come all the way out on deck. The heel was averaging about 15 degrees, going to 20 degrees with gusts. To be fair, we hadn't anticipated having much wind, so we hadn't really briefed Ken on the possibility of heeling, and how such a thing is normal and good for sailboats. Add to this the rollers coming in the from the Pacific and it was a fun ride. To be fair to Helga, I probably would have put in the second reef if I hadn't been certain the wind would calm down once we got close to the Bay Bridge. As we came alongside Treasure Island, the rollers turned into waves with the shallowing bottom, and I had my hands full sawing away on the wheel trying to keep something like a heading as waves came at us just aft of abeam. To complicate matters slightly, there were lots of boats around us evidently engaged in a race.

Just one of the racing boats, trying to round Yerba Buena Island

We headed up the channel past all the container ship unloading facilities in Oakland to the Jack London Square Marina. This marina is in really a prime spot in terms of both being centrally located in the bay and right next to a lot of fun-looking establishments. The marina bathrooms were only so-so, but that was the only negative. Dan had made dinner reservations at The Fat Lady for us, and after the sailing, that was about all we had energy for. Too bad; it looks like a really fun place.

Alongside the visitor's dock at the Jack London Square Marina

Having dinner at The Fat Lady

It was a chilly, foggy three hour trip back to Richmond the next morning, but I am pretty sure that everyone enjoyed their different sort of Nevada Day weekend.

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