last week a couple of weeks ago several weeks crap er… sometime back in April, we decided that we’d had enough with fixing and replacing boat parts, and wanted a change of scenery so we decided to sail out of Vallejo and around the corner and stay in the Benicia Marina for a night. Vallejo and Benicia are adjacent towns, but it is actually about an eight mile sail out of the Mare Island Strait, up the Carquinez Strait, and around into the Benicia Marina. The wind was light and variable, heavy on the variable. At one point, our wind vane at the top of the mast was actually spinning.
Bob and I have a thing about Quonset huts…apparently. Mare Island has what could be termed a shit-ton of Quonset huts.
Sailing Selfie. We also really should be paid for our West Marine advertisements.
into the Carquinez Strait watching carefully for large, fast moving ships
and under the Carquinez Bridge.
When we finally got to Benicia and docked in a tiny slip, I felt I needed a drink. Or two. Then we had a really nice dinner at Mai Thai.
The next day, we had to wait for the tide to come in, so we wandered over to a car show that was going on along 1st Street.
The wind was not only light and variable on the way back, it and the current were against us, so we motored back to Vallejo. When we arrived back at our slip, I decided to back Scat in. As we were coming into the slip, I was looking backwards and felt the boat rock as Bob hopped off. I said, “Could you…(my ears registered a splash, but my brain didn’t catch up) (quickly looked around – no Bob)..Did you fall in???”
The next probably 30 seconds were a blur of trying to stop the boat and not let the bow or stern hit the dock, and more importantly not hitting Bob with the prop or squishing him against the dock with an 8,500 lb boat. I failed at not hitting the dock, but managed to avoid Bob, and came to a stop diagonally in the slip with Bob muscling her off the dock. Whew. As the boat stopped moving and I cut the engine, I heard a PSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH sound. From Bob’s perspective he heard the PSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH overlaid with RIP RIP RIP RIP RIP as his PFD inflated around his head and the Velcro holding it closed all ripped open. I started laughing, partly from relief, but it was also pretty funny.
Lessons learned: Step off the boat – no leaping. If the boat isn’t close enough, come around and try again. Also? We’re not spring chickens anymore.