Slipstream

The F-18 Hornet was impossibly loud as it ran tight power circles, full throttle, around Anna, 100 yards above her mast.

Fighter jet directly overhead.

We slipped away from the boat yard after two weeks in captivity, living on the boat, twenty feet off the ground. Sea trails awaited Anna after her drivetrain repairs were completed. So we carefully and tentatively motored out of shallow, Richardson Bay, on the northwest end of Sausalito's working waterfront. We passed the Marin headlands and the Golden Gate as we checked the driveshaft for leaks or wobbles, over the range of RPMs. All was well. The driveshaft was quiet and smooth, and the area around the shaft log was dry, except of course for the new PSS 'dripless' seal, which is intended to cool the driveshaft with seawater. No friction. No metallic grinding. As it should be. We were open for business, once again.

Late afternoon was approaching, in SF Bay. That meant the breeze was up and out of the west. The tidal current was flooding, and the headsail was champing at the bit. And so we cut the engine and deployed the jib, in the 15 to 20 knots of breeze that entered the Bay from the Pacific, just beyond the entrance to the Golden Gate. The breeze and flood tide pushed our stern quarter to the east, whooshing us quietly along the San Francisco waterfront. Past the golden dome of the Palace of Fine Arts, and past Alcatraz Island, and along to Treasure Island, to the east, before looping back to Angel Island and Raccoon Passage to begin another casual loop of the Bay.

Sausalito.

And as we once more slid past the Golden Gate, late in the afternoon sunlight, on a warm Thursday in early October, a thunderous roar enveloped us. Plumes of fire emanated from the aft burners of the supersonic engines as they lit up the sky above us. We felt a shock wave of raw power as an array of F-18 fighter jets skidded sideways in the tightest of concentric circles. Very low to the surface of the water, they shimmered in the heat wave that they generated as they blasted past us. Anna was caught up in the slipstream of some serious machinery.

F-18 Hornets fly-by over the Golden Gate.

And just like that, they left us far, far behind. A quick 90 degree roll and they shot straight up, way beyond the high cumulus cloud cover that had gathered for the occasion. You have a nice day, sir. Within seconds they were but a tiny dot in the heavens. And so it went for the next hour, a continuum of raw power and shock waves, as we made our way toward the quiet anchorage we had scoped out for the evening; seemingly, at a glacial pace.

Anchored at Clipper Cove, Treasure Is., off  Oakland Bay Bridge.

***

There is perhaps no finer day-sailing than across San Francisco Bay, on a warm, breezy afternoon, in mid October. Cool ocean air streams past the slit that leads east, to the Golden Gate.

Sailing by the GG Bridge...fog, sun, and a moderate westerly breeze.

Tug at south tower, GG Bridge, fog rolls in.

It is reinforced by the warm, thermal lows and downslope winds that pipe up, like precision Swiss clockwork, during the afternoon hours. Set against a pastel-lit cityscape, with whitecaps breaking along the rolling Marin headlands and all across the SF Bay and, added to that, the dramatic expanse of miles of red, steel cabling, connecting the high, twin Deco towers, which traverse the ocean swells beneath...well, it's a powerfully beautiful setting to say the least.

Passing by Alcatraz Is. and San Francisco skyline.

We anchored just off the north tower of the Golden Gate Bridge, in a small protected cove adjacent to the Presidio, on the Sausalito side. Horseshoe Cove. Sticky-mud bottom. Arguably the finest anchorage in San Francisco Bay.

Anchored at Horseshoe Cove,
by GG Bridge, north tower.

With an unparalleled view of the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco cityscape. High drama.

Eight-ball says:  no

Best of all, it provides protection from the rollers, which make most of the other anchorages, in the SF Bay, uncomfortable. Located, literally, a hundred yards from the north tower of the bridge it makes an excellent base to wait for the fog to lift, and the currents to turn slack, before continuing out once again into the blue, just around the bend.