So yesterday we went sailing with Pablo and Lisa. They have this 28-foot sailboat at the Berkeley Marina. That size is about right for five people, four sitting in the stern and one in the cabin. We anticipated a nice sail and sunny weather. Well, it was sunny!

The thing about the bay area is that summer does not mean warm weather. It means fog and bitter cold. The real heat sits in the valley behind the hills, and the heat sucks air and currents in from the ocean in the form of wind and fog and giant green waves.

So anyway, we headed out. Our destination was north toward San Rafael, about five miles. The water was almost immediately choppy. As soon as the boat left the waters of the marina, we raised the sail. Pablo and Lisa are very experienced, having sailed this thing about thirty times, so knew exactly what to do and when. Thank god one of us wasn’t nervous. As the main sail went up, the boat “heeled” violently to the right, meaning we should all sit on the high side to balance the weight.

A huge raft of fog completely obscured San Francisco and much of the bay. We hoped it would burn off, which would signal calmer water. But no. As we headed north fighting the current, the boat crashed into wave after wave. Yet the sun shone down on us. As far as we could see, the water was dotted with whitecaps and crests. It was sort of fun once you got used to it (we found ourselves singing “Rio” by Duran Duran several times), but the excitement never really let up until after we had passed below the massive San Rafael Bridge. The water calmed a bit and we sailed along past things I had never seen or heard of, like numerous small and uninhabited islands, or an island with a lighthouse and a bed and breakfast inn, or a rock quarry.

After an amazingly quick three hours, we finally reached the little harbor we were aiming for at China Camp. Dropped anchor and made some lunch. They had a special gas barbecue grill on board that actually bolts onto the side of the boat. So we grilled turkey burgers, and they were damn fine. The wind however continued to blow, and the currents made the boat spin in circles.

At 3:00, we decided to head back. I knew in my heart that it would take hours to make our way back to Berkeley, fighting weather and water the whole way. I was filled with nerves over it. The wind and waves were so strong that it caused the boat to “broach,” meaning that it turned 180 degrees all by itself, flipping the sail over to the other side. We also had to “tack” several times, which is to make a hard turn and take the sail to the opposite side of the boat. We basically had to zig zag. It seemed to take an eternity just to reach the bridge again.

It just seemed to go on and on… and there was this weird feeling of resignation, knowing that we could do nothing but carry on, bear the waves crashing into the boat and into our faces, the boat dipping up and down, the wind pulling the mast, and we couldn’t stop, we couldn’t change our situation, or turn back. We just had to get through it. So it was a good test for me. I was scared, but I think only because I have never been on a tiny boat in a rough ocean. Pablo was calm and fully in control, so that calmed me down, and Brian was calm too, as always. So I just gritted my teeth and dealt with it as best I could.

Toward the end I went down into the cabin to stand and hang on, bouncing wildly all the while, until I became nauseous. At long last, we reached the marina again. It took three and a half hours to get back. They told me it was the roughest and longest sail they had ever done, so I looked at that positively; it couldn’t really get any worse than that, so the next trip would be better. The next trip will be in the fall, when the warm air comes in.

After we had finished packing up and cleaning mud off the jib and so forth, I decided to sit around on the dock with everyone and drink a beer while they waited for a sail to dry off. I finished it faster than I’ve ever finished a beer before, I think.

Later at home, I took a much needed shower. As I stood there under the water and turned around, I realized my equilibrium was still off, and I still felt like I was on the boat. It happened again when I lay in bed and closed my eyes.