NVR Logo
Water world
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Save and Share Share
November 22nd, 2009
November 15th, 2009
November 8th, 2009
November 1st, 2009
October 25th, 2009
I have been on a northerly course most of my life — yet have stuck by the water whenever I can.

After growing up in suburban Los Angeles, my next stop was UC Santa Cruz. I remember standing on a campus hilltop, looking at Monterey Bay and the blue-gray Pacific, and thinking that I’d be fortunate to spend all my life within a few minutes of the Pacific shore. I didn’t make it, but I still believe that would be a lucky man’s life.
My next stops were the East Bay and San Francisco, so I was hugging the water reasonably tight. Then came three years in Washington, D.C., with the coast nowhere in sight. Now in Napa, I am not on the water, but the muddy shallows of San Pablo Bay are not far away.

Occasionally, my wife, my wife’s hound and I join forces with other hounds and head to spectacular Dillon Beach for an off-leash romp. The walk starts alongside the crashing waves where Tomales Bay meets the sea and follows the strand until the water is nearly still and the view is of land, including Point Reyes, on all sides.
A few weeks ago, we spent a rare day on San Francisco Bay. A friend invited us aboard his yacht for a trip from Alameda to Petaluma. It was no “Two Years Before the Mast,” but it was revelatory.

We plowed through Oakland’s Inner Harbor, past the city skyline and the Port of Oakland. The container ships are impressive from the Bay Bridge, but to slosh alongside as the cranes clamp their hooks into one huge metal box after another and swing the containers onto land inspired awe.
Then past Angel Island and the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge before what, for me, were uncharted waters: The quiet coast of Marin County. Then the channel markers indicated that we should go left, right, left —technically port, starboard, port — into the modest Petaluma River, like our own Napa River.

We passed lovely homes connected to ramshackle boathouses by a hundred yards of uneven wooden planks. Occasionally sunlight would glint off cars on Lakeville Highway or Highway 101.

But the view was nothing like the one from those roadways. No billboards, no exits, no specialty license plates. The oak trees on the golden hills were familiar, but we were crouched in the river’s channel, snaking upcountry past the reeds and the muddy creek banks.

Near Petaluma, rusty barges and tugs sat sideways in the muck, waiting for the tide to return — and maybe for the clock to roll back 100 years — so they could spring into action. The contrast could not have been greater from the Port of Oakland, where the cranes and container ships bring the goods of the world to our doorsteps.
5 comment(s)

Ruff Limblog wrote on Jul 26, 2009 12:45 PM:

" Thanks for this post. You reminded me of my days in the Navy. For a portion of my stint, I was stationed in Charleston, SC.

I used to crew for a guy who had a 47 foot twin mast motor-sailer and needed a hand with the sails for his day sailing weekend trips.

It's a fond memory, returning in the moonlight to our mooring, gliding past Fort Sumter and Charleston's Antebellum mansions!

Thanks!

~Ruff "

vocal-de-local wrote on Jul 27, 2009 11:22 AM:

" I was born and raised on the North Coast. The psychological feeling of knowing the ocean is nearby, along with all of bodies of fresh water feeding into it, delivers a familiar comfort. When the fog rolls in, I can smell the ocean scent in it, even here in Angwin. And as a kid, we used to camp on the coast and have birthday parties on the sand dunes in Sonoma County.

My dad tried taking our ski boat up the Petaluma River once and the waves were much too choppy for a small boat. I remember the view ahead, where the mouth opened up into the bay. In the eyes of a little kid, it might as well have been the open ocean. If the choppy waves tossing our boat around were any indication of how bad it was going to be out there, I was content remaining withing the confines of a river where I could swim to shore if the boat capsized. Today, I have a healthy relationship with water and safety!

For those of us raised near a coastline, it's a peculiar feeling, though, traveling to places like the Midwest. There are people whose closest encounter with the ocean is a picture. It's no coincidence that the most highly populated places on Earth are along the coastlines. The further inland I travel, the more I get it! "

Ruff Limblog wrote on Jul 27, 2009 3:52 PM:

" There's an old story vocal-de, about a sailor who retires and starts walking inland with an oar over his shoulder until he meets some one who asks him what it is... and there he settles down.

However, I like being close to the ocean, and the mountains.

So that makes Northern California the perfect place for me. A couple of hours and you can be skiing, or walking the beach.

~Ruff "

vocal-de-local wrote on Jul 27, 2009 6:25 PM:

" Ruff, every once in awhile I think about moving to places like Colorado or Wyoming. California is getting too crowded for my liking.

On the other hand, like you say, we are surrounded by so many places and things to do. Lake Tahoe, skiing, the culture of San Francisco with all it's museums and restaurants, our beaches, coastline, rivers and Redwood groves. We can kiteboard in the AM, visit a museum by afternoon, and by late evening be in Tahoe. Oh, I shouldn't forget the jewel where we live. We can enjoy this incredible Mediterranean climate because it's in our backyard. Is there any other place quite like it? "

JustMyyOpinion wrote on Jul 31, 2009 8:26 AM:

" Not that I've found in my travels, vocal-de.

Like others, I get antsy when I venture too far inland. I like knowing that the coast and beautiful ocean is just a short drive away. I can't imagine life in Nebraska or another land-locked state. I grew up in D.C., but my dad loved the water so we had our annual summer voyage to Ft. Lauderdale each year. Before long dad bought a nice beach house in Southern Maryland where we had a ski boat and Sunfish sailboat at the ready, not to mention all the blue crabs we could eat.

My marriage brought me west to the SF Bay Area and I knew I'd found paradise and a new place to call home. Ocean in one direction, mountains in the other. What more could one hope for? "

Comment Guidelines
The goal of the story comments section at NapaValleyRegister.com is to have an open, thought-provoking, civil community forum for all issues.
What gets your comment posted?
• Staying on topic
• Keeping your comment to 300 words or less
• Avoiding name-calling
• Addressing your comments to the message rather than the messenger
What gets your comment deleted?
• Personal attacks
• Derogatory remarks
• Name-calling of any sort
• Going off-topic
• Hate speech
• Racially-insensitive comments
• Implying guilt of a subject in a crime story before there is a court verdict
• Posting e-mail addresses
• Posting comments of a commercial nature
• POSTING WITH ALL CAPITAL LETTERS
• Linking multiple comments together with "to be continued..." to get around the 300 word limit.
The fine print
- Comments are either approved or denied. We do not edit comments.
- You are welcome to modify and resubmit a denied comment.
- Comments may take several hours to be posted.
- Comments posted are those of the writer, and do not necessarily reflect the opinion of NapaValleyRegister.com, its employees or its parent company.
- Do you have information on a story? Please go to our virtual newsroom to send us a news tip.
- If you feel a posted comment has violated our guidelines, please contact online@napanews.com or add a comment indicating you have an issue and our moderators will review the comment in question.
Search:
Web Search Powered
By Yahoo! Search
Napa Valley Register on Facebook
Copyright © 2009 Napa Valley Publishing, a member of Lee Enterprises, Inc.
Terms of Use | Privacy Policy