Sailing the Bay in January

When was the last time you sailed in January? Most people never do. And it’s too bad, because winter is a great time of year on the Bay. I remember one day in particular: A friend and I sailed from Berkeley over to Tiburon, docked at Sam’s Anchor Cafe, had a great lunch, then enjoyed a pleasant reach back home. We had the Bay to ourselves all day. It rained most of the way over and back, of course. But that wasn’t an issue; it was just part of the experience.

By Scott Alumbaugh
Published: January, 2008 

For some, sailing in rain sounds unpleasant. Most of us don’t do anything in rain unless we have to. But sailing itself is not really a logical pursuit. Which isn’t to say it’s a bad activity to take up. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense if you stop and think about it for too long.

For one thing, most sailboats are generally slow. A good cyclist could ride a bicycle from San Francisco to Los Angeles—stopping to eat and sleep—in the time it takes to sail a boat straight through. And when was the last time you were thrilled to move faster than eight miles per hour? Most sailors start whooping when the boat gets up to that speed.

And there is the pointlessness of sailing. Most sailboats don’t really go anywhere. They leave the harbor, wander around for a while, then come back again.

So why do we do sail? Some people like being anachronistic. They revel in being a part of a long tradition of sailing. These are the people you know who can name all of the sails on a square rigger, and who can box a compass (name all thirty-two principal points of the compass in clockwise order). Others are drawn to the engineering of the boat, and others still see an idyll of white beaches and swaying palms.

Whatever one’s motivation might be, the thing in common to all is a desire to be somewhere different for a while. And the great thing about sailing is that you don’t have to go anywhere to get away. It happens the moment the boat starts moving forward under sail. No matter how experienced the crew—from racers to first-timers—I notice a palpable change on the boat when the sails fill and the boat heels. It is a defining moment. Whether you’re out for a daysail, a race, a coastal passage, or a blue water cruise, it is the point at which you have left the land and your day-to-day life behind. There’s something very significant and gratifying about the clarity of that break.

It is also a deciding moment, because in order to have a great sail, you really have to make that break. You have to be willing to forget about your day-to-day routine and problems that await your return. And that is a good thing. Sailing would not be worth pursing unless it was completely different from being ashore. It is also rewarding, because the more you give yourself over to sailing, the better your experience will be. That’s why it can even be fun to sail in rain.

On that January day, I looked at my friend at one point and had to laugh. He was sailing the boat on a nice reach, so there was not much to do but relax and talk. And that’s exactly what we were doing: talking and relaxing out in the pouring rain in the middle of the Bay. I told him why I was laughing. He just grinned back and shrugged, then continued on whatever he was talking about. And that pretty much summed it all up.