Arrival in Half Moon Bay
We left San Francisco Bay at about 1030, carried on the ebbing tide flowing under the Golden Gate bridge at a solid couple of knots, dodging the many recreational boats, and keeping a keen eye out for the big commercial traffic — container ships and tankers.
We did have to cross the outbound channel ahead of a tanker leaving Port Richmond, and an ocean tug with a barge in tow passed to starboard1 in the inbound channel. The outbound tanker didn’t actually pass us until we were well across both outbound and inbound channels. Once we were clear of the bar, the semicircular mound of sediment deposited on the seafloor by the nearly 390 billion gallons of water leaving the bay twice daily, we turned left for Half Moon Bay.
As we approached Half Moon Bay, a fairly short trip, taking only about five hours, we noticed a power boat paralleling our course, very close inshore. As we neared the channel to approach the port, they pulled ahead, and entered the port ahead of us.
Our plan was to pump out2, refuel, and get a slip for the night. When we pulled up to the pump out dock though, a massive motor yacht was sitting on the fuel dock. We tied up, and went about our business, watching the interactions between the crew of the “Almost/There,” dressed in matching tee-shirts and khaki shorts, and the professional fishing crews.
The first thing that popped out is that the fishing crews were surprised that the yacht was there.
“How long are you going to be?”
“About an hour.”
Another fisherman came up the dock, “How much are you pumping?”
“About 3,500 gallons.”
“You’re having fun! I’ve got a job to do!”
The boat on the other side of ours saw a conversation between the skipper of the Dory, a small fishing boat that could have been straight out of a 50’s adaptation of “The Old Man and the Sea,” and a dreadlocked woman in yellow overall bibs and a baseball hat.
“I need ice. How long are they going to be?”
“They said an hour.”
“That’s not going to work. We’re going to have to pass a hose through the window if they can’t make space for us.”
“We’re going to have trouble with all these yachties!”
Clearly the love wasn’t flowing here, and the crew on the Almost/There was either oblivious to their impact, or just didn’t care. We pumped out, figured we’d refuel another day, and move on to our slip, which was only about seventy five feet along the dock.
Backing in, we realized that the dock lines were all set on the opposite side of the boat, and Donna scrambled to get them moved across as I approached the dock. As we slowed next to the dock, the wind and current started to slowly push the bow off the dock, and it became increasingly clear that we missed our opportunity.
I pulled away, circling, giving Donna time to finish getting things set on deck, before coming in for another attempt. This time, we got the boat tied up, although the wind and current did push our boat off the dock, until it came to a gently rest against the boat on the other side of the slip. We managed to get things sorted, and noticed a man standing on the aft deck of the next door sport-fisherman with a half empty pint of porter.
“Hey, nice job! With all the wind and current, and backing in? I’d be more worried about your boat than about mine!” We headed over with three beers, and had a chat with our new neighbor, and his new rescue dog, Charlie. Charlie wasn’t thrilled to have us nearby, and kept up a suspicious “gruff, gruff” as we talked.
Ray, our neighbor, was full of stories about his time in Hawaii, buying land, and dealing with local land use permits and zoning ordinances, explaining how he had built a bench with rod holders for the Hawaiian family who had been fishing there for generations. The next time they showed up to fish again after it was built, they moved to a new spot, since the bench was occupying their usual spot. Ray explained he had built the bench for them, and that as long as he owned the land, they’d be able to fish there. Apparently the story made it to the building inspector, who signed off on his plans, saying “Tell anyone who gives you any trouble about this to call me.”
After saying our goodbyes, we headed up on shore for an early dinner, splitting fish and chips and a fish sandwich, and went for a long walk along the beach just south of the harbor.
Starboard is the right side of the boat as you face the bow. Port is the other side of the boat, to the right when you face the stern.
“Pumping out” is using a dockside facility to empty the black water (sewage) tank on the boat.
More pictures please :)