Negotiating wakes
"Mehh," said Janet. I had just asked how she was doing as we headed out onto the estuary on Monday. "But I'm doing alright," she said, qualifying her experience as all of us who have homes and income and who've thus far managed to avoid Covid and AR-15s are wont to do.
Everyone I know seems to be battling malaise these days, a grief that has become harder to attribute to just one thing. And while I haven’t been feeling celebratory, connecting with people feels important, imperative really. So if idea of commemorating ‘Independence Day’ was more than ridiculous this year, I was observing the holiday, albeit gathering with friends to be together as much as to watch fireworks or cheer on parades.
Alameda’s Fourth of July parade, at 3.3 miles, is the longest in the country which means residents are bound to see some of it whether you try to or not. Our street becomes a bit of a green room, an avenue for participants racing to the start line or winding down post-event. We’ve friends who live along the actual route though, and we walked across the island to sit on their stoop and visit while watching the proceedings.
It may just have been my mood — I worried about random violence or some pocket of white nationalism to appear even before the news about Highland Park came in — but the parade seemed a little smaller than years past. The Outrigger Canoe Club sat in a tilted canoe pulled by a truck broadcasting songs from Moana. The usual assortment of local officials in convertibles drove past along with prancing horses and flatbed trucks carrying cover bands and horn sections. Periodically, someone made a nod to what’s actually going on in our country right now. A woman dropped off a flyer for a meeting about Alameda abortion rights and a cyclist rode by with a sign that read “move July 4 to Nov 8 —VOTE!"
None of it really brightened my spirits. I could easily have called it a day, but we’d made plans to go out on the boat with Janet and Jeff at sunset to see what we could see.
I was glad we did. There’s something special about being on the water in and of itself. By evening, the clouds had cleared and the light was stunning out on the estuary. The wind was up enough to sail out to the greater San Francisco Bay, plus there was a lot of traffic to negotiate. Several large party boats passed us blaring disco, and a very full Potomic cruised by and the ferries were running on their weekend schedules. The Port of Oakland was doing business as usual: two large tugs were just beginning to escort a large freighter out as we were headed out.
By sunset, flares were going off in every direction and the clouds were starting to creep back in. Most of the official San Francisco fireworks show were lost to us in the low clouds. Still, our senses were full between the Bay Lights, the boat traffic and many rogue firework displays in East Oakland, South SF, Hunter's Point, San Bruno and Alameda Point. All the different vessels were pushing inky swells across the Bay which lapped against our hull. The Yerba Buena lighthouse was sounding its foghorn and several flocks of low-flying pelicans winged by, headed for roost. Occasionally, a gull or tern flashed white overhead or a seal would paddle past.
Alameda Point and the area just beyond the Main St. Ferry dock were full of amateur pyrotechnicians. I’m not sure where people get their fireworks these, but we enjoyed the show between what was happening off the Point and in East Oakland. Our ride continued to be adventuresome as all of the boats we saw going out headed back in. Our return was as much about navigating wakes as light shows. We had to hurry across the shipping lane as another hulking freighter sped through the Gate, under the Bay Bridge and back to the port. As we reentered the estuary, Kwame had to continually turn the boat to cross the wakes lapping back and forth across the channel.
When we finally docked it was after 11pm and boom, crackle and pops were still sounding from points east and west. I looked up from the dock just in time to see a firework in the shape of a large Peace sign lighting up the sky across from Coast Guard Island. I hoped I wasn’t the only one who saw it.
Speaking of negotiating wakes, one of my favorite moments of our most recent Love the Bay music and sailing episode is when guest artists Wendy Beckerman and Louise Taylor continue playing (a song aptly titled “Treading Water”) as Espresso rolls over a large swell without missing a beat.
Is there anyone less perturbable than a once-upon touring songwriter? They had brought a keyboard and a cajon as well as two guitars to the shoot, and figuring out what would work to play while under sail and what wouldn't was a bit of a puzzle. But when you have all been figuring out how to make stuff for a lifetime, the unexpected is expected and problems get solved relatively quickly. In the end, we stood the keyboard stand on each side of the cockpit, boosted Wendy’s seat with two boat cushions and Louise set her cajon on the dock. Under sail, Louise played brushes on a metal box normally used for microphones. Later, when their quietest song was punctuated by a train sounding its approach to Jack London Square as we sailed past, everyone just laughed.
Check out the finished episode here: