The 2008 Haul Out, where to start? Should I start with Sweetie getting boarded by the Coast Guard on his way over to Alameda? Or should I start with the rain that hasn’t stopped for two solid weeks? Perhaps the best place to start is at the Howard Johnson Hotel in South San Francisco, where the kitty is looking out the window right now, waiting for me to come back.

If you have a boat, you know that the water is supposed to stay on the outside. Sometimes, in spite of our best efforts, water finds its way inside the cabin. Our marina looks like a blue tarp city during the rainy season, so I guess we aren’t the only ones who had problems with leaks.

Sweetie and I are good at the blast and bomb kind of boat projects. I hope my he doesn’t get mad if I tell you this story, but it had me giggling the other day when I thought of it. He is a generous man by nature and bought me a JRC radar for Christmas a few years ago when we still owned the sailboat. Being a handy fellow, he did every bit of the installation by himself. Having a husband who can fix things is a blessing, especially when you live on a boat, because things always seem to break.

It was coming toward dusk and my resident sea gull reminded me, in his subtle shrieking way, that he hadn’t yet been served his afternoon snack. I found a heel of bread in the refrigerator, broke it into quarters and took it out into the cockpit. My gull plopped down behind the boat, anticipating this meager repast and scrutinizing me with his beady, yellow eye. I tossed all four pieces of bread into the water when, from across the fairway, I heard “DON’T FEED THE SEA GULLS! #@&*(%$# THEY S_T ALL OVER THE BOATS!##@@&&%^”

The topsail schooner Californian appeared out of the mist like a ghost from the past. With her square sails and impressive size, it was obvious she was not of this century and the fact that we had no prior indication of her presence made the experience all the more eerie. No sound announced her presence; no image appeared on our radar because she was made entirely of wood. It was a disorienting feeling, as if we had sailed back through time.

Getting caught in bad weather isn’t fun. It has happened to all of us at one time or another. When the winds blow up from the south, which is our regular winter storm pattern, it makes for a lousy ride home, especially the three-mile stretch from Hunters Point to our channel markers. The waves have the entire south bay, all the way from Alviso, to build. It’s not unusual to bury the bow in conditions like that.

I love those clear winter days here in the Bay when the visibility goes on for miles. You can see all the way to San Jose if you have the stamina to hike to the top of Mount Livermore on Angel Island.

I’m usually content with the view from the fire road, but have on occasion made the trek all the way to the summit. Even the winter birds are more interesting than the summer regulars, however I do miss the diving terns. Seeing the scaups, scoters, loons, mergansers and the little buffleheads make a boating trip across the bay an interesting lesson in botany.

Being boarded by the United States Coast Guard can be an intimidating experience. With a little advanced preparation, courtesy and patience, you can survive.

We had just passed under the Bay Bridge when coming up fast from astern was a United States Coast Guard patrol Safeboat, all lights flashing. Our good friend Jim Seward had been recently boarded, now it looked like it was our turn. I confess that it’s just a little scary to see them coming up from behind so quickly and with such determination.

There was frost on the dock this morning! I had to walk flat footed like a duck to keep from slipping and sliding. Now that the cold weather has hit with a vengeance, the diesel forced air heater is a blessing.

There was a time, when we were much younger, when we would set a clay flowerpot upside down on the alcohol stove as a source of heat. The flowerpot would get red hot and radiate heat throughout the cabin of our Catalina 27, Yes, Dear. We would happily hang on the hook at Treasure Island or Ayala Cove for days at a time throughout the winter months.

The Bowling Trophy is sleeping with the fishes at Treasure Island. I have run ads in the local magazines, called my diver for assistance in locating it and prayed to St. Jude, the patron Saint of lost things for its return, but I’m afraid it will never see the light of day again. It was such a beautiful thing, what a shame to be lost in the mud forevermore.

We purchased the Bowling Trophy from West Marine just after we bought the trawler two years ago. It had been a special order for someone who never picked it up.