Chris and I had just graduated college, moved out of our shoebox apartment in North Lake Tahoe and gotten married when he carried me through the companionway of our new home, our 1979 41-foot Cheoy Lee, Avocet. It was a whirlwind for us as two young twenty-somethings, leaving little time to process what and who we had left behind for our grand new life afloat. We were 500 miles away from where we had spent three years learning to live together and had taken the plunge headfirst into boat ownership, buying a capable bluewater cruiser in need of some TLC.
Those first few months of liveaboard life were tough and isolating, our heads buried in a project list that seemed to multiply as quickly as each task was completed. I remember one night driving home from Lowe’s when I burst into tears, overwhelmed by a feeling of loneliness.
“We have no friends!” I bawled inconsolably from the passenger seat. Chris took his time to respond, wrapping his arms around me and letting me cry it out.
“Just wait and see,” he said. And he was right.
Shortly after my passenger-seat pity party, we made friends faster than a wave crashing on the beach. Sailing out of Ventura Harbor for the last time, I was in tears once more—this time because we were sailing away from so many that we loved. Today, we carry our Ventura friends with us on this journey in the form of shared recipes, photos, recommended books, and most importantly, the projects they helped us complete aboard Avocet. Now it was time to exchange effort for adventure.
Whereas most California cruisers turn “left” toward Mexico’s warm waters and idyllic cruising grounds, we decided to sail north. It was an unconventional choice not made lightly, with headwinds, swells and notorious challenges like Point Conception facing us. But the pull of family and a chance to revisit Northern California’s rugged coastline on our floating home was strong. With a rare weather window of favorable southerly winds, we went for it.
Yes, Mexico is south, and yes, northern California is cold. But we chose the wrong way for the right reasons—mostly to be with family through the holidays before crossing into Mexico. For me, having grown up in Santa Cruz, I also couldn’t resist the chance to return to my hometown on my own floating home.
With southerly winds prevailing, we first headed straight to San Francisco Bay, where Chris had spent his childhood sailing aboard his family’s Mason 43, Sea Castle. (Santa Cruz could wait—after all, what goes up must come down.) Despite the chilly weather and the city’s sometimes-claustrophobic vibe, the Bay is full of hidden gems and made for some great cruising grounds.
Clipper Cove
Considering the many shoals and unmarked hazards in the Bay, it’s always best to check with local sources regarding the best anchorage entry tactics. Fortunately, Chris’s brother had written about “the cut” of Clipper Cove on his blog site (www.svprism.com) which we referenced to guide us through the shallows to the deep water where we could safely set a hook. Getting into the anchorage was a bit nervewracking with Avocet’s 6.5’ draft, considering a shoal guards most of the entrance at low tide. Sailors with similar drafted vessels should wait until the flood current returns to navigate the channel into the anchorage. Nestled between two islands, Treasure Island and Yerba Buena, the cove provides protection from almost all directions (except for the east) and shelters you from the sounds and concrete views of San Francisco.
Treasure Island is flat in comparison to Yerba Buena, the island it is loosely connected to by a two way road. Yerba Buena Island is an organic landmass whereas Treasure Island was artificially created. The 400-acre island was built by the Army Corps of Engineers in 1936-37 on the shoals of Yerba Buena in anticipation of the 1939 World Fair. The site of the fair was to later become San Francisco International Airport, but the Navy seized the island in 1942, shortly after World War II began, and it became Treasure Island Naval Station. Pan American World Airways’ clipper seaplane was commonly used at the time, for which Clipper Cove was named.
The islands are now in the beginning stages of a sustainably designed redevelopment project, which will create up to 8,000 residences, open space across three-fourths of TI and much of YBI, and a compact mixed-use commercial center serving island residents. The Clinton Climate Initiative (C40) designated the redevelopment plan as one of only 19 model Climate Positive Projects worldwide. It was awarded LEED-ND Platinum certification, becoming just the 17th in the world to receive the highest designation possible for a green, sustainable development. Hopefully the artificial island will soon become a destination for Bay Area residents and tourists from around the world.
The (Unofficial) Washed Up Yacht Club is an eclectic group of sailors and boats that frequently raft up at Clipper Cove. Chris’s brother was among the club’s founders back when they were sailing aboard their Caliber 28, Tara. Since those days, the club has tripled in size. We of course joined in the fun there, finding ourselves aboard a Baba 30 where I met a boat chicken named Boots. The cockpit soon filled with many “Washed Up Yachties,” some of whom remembered Chris’s brother very well. We happily shared the whereabouts of Prism and her crew, as well as our own story of why we decided to sail the “wrong way” and now found ourselves in the cockpit of a stranger’s boat among new friends.
One of our favorite parts about anchoring in Clipper Cove is the accessibility to the surrounding cities. Once the dinghy was beached and locked to a tree, we walked to the ferry station, where a round trip ride into the city was $20 for the two of us, and we were the only passengers aboard, both ways. So VIP of us.
We spent eight days anchored in Clipper Cove, which was longer than expected but for good reason. It was protected, easy to get ashore and a low-key start to our cruising adventures, but it was time to move on. The islands shrank off our stern as we set course for our next anchorage to the west.
Angel Island
The second-largest island in San Francisco Bay, Angel Island offers stunning vistas and a peaceful escape from the city. After a beautiful beam reach across the Bay, we approached Ayala Cove, where we hoped to raft up with friends aboard Chalet Mer to avoid the $30/night mooring fee. But after a few ferry wakes rocked both boats, we decided to grab our own mooring.
The moorings at Ayala Cove are first-come, first-served with a bow-and-stern tie setup, and the shallow water can be tricky for deep-keeled vessels like Avocet.
Angel Island’s beauty is rivaled only by its rich history. From its early discovery by Spanish explorers in 1775 to its transformation into a military outpost during the Civil War—and later, its role as the “Ellis Island of the West” for Asian immigrants—the island’s past is full of fascinating stories. Ashore we found remnants of the old military camp, quarantine station and immigration station, which told vivid tales of those who passed through.
The hiking trails were peaceful, lined with native flora, and the views from the North Ridge Trail were breathtaking, offering views of Avocet anchored in the cove below and the sprawling cityscape beyond. Chris, having visited as a kid, recalled adventures on a Segway tour. Today we preferred the island’s bike trails to explore the historical sites. Angel Island exceeded our expectations. It’s like a hidden gem in the heart of the San Francisco Bay.
Richardson Bay
It had been three weeks since we left our home port of Ventura, and we were beginning to unlock the cruising lifestyle and all its mysteries—like when we would be able to have clean laundry again. Chris was at the helm, desperately trying to bury Avocet’s rail as she made way through San Francisco Bay’s Raccoon Straits to our next anchorage.
Richardson Bay is large, with loose-mud holding and an average depth of 20 feet. The bay is subject to dynamic diurnal tidal cycle, so it’s wise to accommodate for a 6-foot tidal swing. The anchorage is just outside Richardson Bay Marina and the Sausalito waterfront community, which you can access at the public dinghy dock located on Turney Street. Many a Bay Area sailor had warned us that Richardson Bay is uncomfortably rolly, so we deployed our beloved FlopStopper roll reducer after setting the hook. While random ferry wakes can create quite some motion (most noticeably late at night), we found the anchorage very comfortable otherwise.
We anchored in 13 feet of water, nestled between two other boats—both seemingly lived aboard, though we never saw the owners. Richardson Bay’s “anchor-outs” community is well-known—and complicated, as affordable housing continues to disappear in the Bay Area, leaving many mariners no option but to live aboard. The challenge for anchor-outs is finding legal slips, which are expensive and limited due to regulations. The local government tries to enforce a 72-hour anchoring rule, before towing boats that don’t comply. It’s a controversial issue, and there’s no clear plan for what happens to displaced mariners once their vessels are removed.
The dinghy dock was substantial with short-term tie-ups on the starboard side and long-term tie-ups on the port—largely metal skiffs, barely-inflated-inflatables and fiberglass dinghies, each one undoubtedly belonging to an anchor-out making this the boating version of a parking lot. We might have looked a bit silly with our big blue laundry bag amongst the glitz and glam around us, but we were on a mission and couldn’t care less really. From the dinghy dock it was a one mile walk to a laundromat where we washed and dried all of our laundry for 10 bucks.
Half a mile from the laundromat is Mollie Stone’s Market, which to us was the holy grail of health food. Their vast inventory of organic produce, meats, vegan options, health and beauty products, as well as conventional necessities like vitamin-enriched cereals and popular name-brand products was impressive. Speaking of food, our friend Ben Dove from the Out The Gate Sailing podcast turned us on to the most amazing sandwich shop inside the Bait and Tackle cornerstone: Davy Jones Deli had an extensive menu, but the “Cali” sandwich caught our attention with the following ingredients: avocado, white cheddar, almond pesto, spinach, arugula, sprouts, tomato, balsamic, lemon, roasted garlic and roasted red bell pepper sauces. (I’m drooling again just writing about this sandwich.)
We had an opportunity to work with Seaplane Adventures in exchange for some thrilling flights aboard a DeHavilland Beaver seaplane thanks to my college friend Ashley who worked there. I got to star in their safety video, then had the chance to take the wheel and fly over the Bay (with the help of the actual pilot, of course). From the air, we enjoyed stunning views of the anchorages and iconic landmarks like the Golden Gate Bridge.
Aquatic Park Cove
“I’m not so sure about this…do another lap,” I begged as we breezed toward the cove. The entrance was narrow, and the outgoing tide created turbulence. Signs warned incoming boaters to watch out for swimmers.
“Why don’t we furl the headsail, then motor in with the main up?” I suggested. Chris agreed and we followed suit inside the cove, keeping an eye out for any swimmers. Fortunately, we were the only one of two boats in the anchorage, and most of the swimmers stuck closer to shore. With the anchor set in a comfortable 15 feet of water with 7:1 scope, we kicked back to enjoy the new surroundings.
Aquatic Park Cove is a human-made urban harbor offering a protected area for recreational activities with stunning views of San Francisco. Once a free anchorage, the cove now charges a fee due to an influx of displaced anchor-outs from Richardson Bay. Securing a permit from the Park Service was a bit of a hassle, but for $10, we gained peace of mind knowing our dinghy was safe at the private beach.
Sailing vessels with auxiliary engines are allowed to maneuver slowly in the cove, but keep an eye out for swimmers. Once settled, we enjoyed the nighttime views of Ghirardelli Square and the romantic cityscape, listening to the sounds of urban life surrounding us.
From here, we were able to access Alcatraz Island, which had been on my bucket list since childhood. After a chilly morning ferry ride, we arrived at the prison that once housed dangerous criminals like Al Capone and Frank Morris. Alcatraz’s haunting history, from its origins as a military fort to its time as a maximum-security prison, captivated us. Despite the excitement of exploring the cell blocks and learning about the famous 1962 escape, the on-site experience fell short, with a lackluster audio tour and missing interpretive signs—but the views of San Francisco and the rich history were worth the visit. We ended our Alcatraz adventure at the island’s lighthouse, the oldest on the West Coast.
By then we were starving. Chris suggested grabbing some food and mushrooms from the ferry terminal, which we had first discovered while anchored in Clipper Cove. With our mushrooms safely tucked away, we made our way to Boudin at Fisherman’s Wharf for some San Francisco sourdough. We indulged in clam chowder bread bowls, garlic bread and more, relishing every bite before walking it off back to Avocet—but not before I made room for a Ghirardelli sundae, a perfect (albeit lactose-intolerant) end to the day.
The next morning, we decided to bike across the Golden Gate Bridge, a 10.5-mile round trip from our anchorage. Despite my dislike for uphill cycling, the views and the ride were worth it. We crossed the iconic bridge under Karl the Fog’s watchful eye, completing a cool trifecta of sailing under, flying over and biking across it. On our way back, we visited the San Francisco Maritime Museum, where we met Karnell, a passionate volunteer who gave us an insider’s look at their boat restoration project.
Karnell, who happened to follow us online, showed us the Monterey restoration project and even gave us original and 3D-printed shipbuilding nails as souvenirs. We explored Avocet’s ancestors, including the tall ship Balclutha, admiring the extensive restoration work. With Fleet Week approaching, a park ranger warned us to depart before the cove filled up with visitors and boats. With that, we set sail once more, ready for our next adventure in…
Berkeley
After three weeks of anchoring we decided to flex our yacht club reciprocal privileges and visit the Neely family’s old stomping grounds, replenish our tanks and pick up some day crew for Fleet Week. But first we had some work to do. Once settled at the Berkeley Yacht Club, our trusty, patched sail was to be replaced with a custom order from Precision Sails—which was exciting, but it would also require a lot of prep work.
As the weekend approached, so did the excitement of Fleet Week, a San Francisco tradition since 1981, featuring air shows and ship parades. We invited some old friends aboard for the festivities.
The blue skies over the Bay were as inviting as the air was bitter but set the stage for a wonderful overhead show. For safety during airshows, a no-boat regulation “box” is set up from the city front to Alcatraz to the Golden Gate. We had to be careful where we sailed, especially since the bay was crawling with “Coasties” and cops. Woooosh the sound of the planes cutting through the sky filled the air as our crew of five sat wide eyed, grinning ear to ear.
During our stay in Berkeley, Mama Neely came to visit which meant we had a car to utilize and get some boat chores done, including a memorable trip to the famed Berkeley Bowl grocery store. Berkeley Bowl (which was just a bit out of my bikeable range) is an independent grocery store in Berkeley that sells organic and natural products and is well known for its extensive produce section. It is the promised land for foodies and health food fanatics. There were 13 variants of mushrooms, six types of eggplants, and leafy greens as far as the eye could see. Definitely worth the stop.
Horseshoe Cove
The weather was on brand, wet and thick with the most authentic shade of grey blanketing the Bay as far as our eyes could see. Avocet was cutting through the dark waters with a bone in her teeth, her sails full and her crew hungry for more. Chris and I both layered up, covering whatever skin was vulnerable to the elements to make our transit to our next and final anchorage bearable. It seemed almost poetic that our final night in the San Francisco Bay was spent anchored next to the iconic Golden Gate Bridge.
Horseshoe Bay is an ideal “welcome” or “departure” anchorage near the gate, with good holding and depths of 10-20 feet. Relatively far from regular ferry traffic, it sees little wake compared to Richardson Bay or Aquatic Cove. However, it’s exposed to southwest swells and winds, which can bring uncomfortable chop into the cove. Shore access is available via the Presidio Yacht Club Dinghy Dock at Travis Marina’s north end.
We spent our final evening in San Francisco Bay cozy below deck, diesel heater humming, watching movies, and savoring dinner. The Golden Gate Bridge lit up the night sky, its glow accompanied by faint traffic noise that didn’t diminish the view.
The next morning dawned clear and crisp. By 7:00 a.m., we were up, embracing our cruising routine. After coffee, Chris launched the dinghy, and we explored the shore. Walking the gravel path toward the Coast Guard Station, I recalled visiting this spot as a child, never imagining I’d return with my husband aboard our own boat.
We wandered Cavallo Point before following an impromptu trail to the Golden Gate Lookout. Later, we met our friend Ben aboard his Hallberg Rassy at Travis Marina, catching up before tackling our own pre-departure tasks. Motoring back to Avocet, we reflected on the anchorage’s beauty and made a note to return in summer. Our three weeks in the Bay, filled with adventure, reunions, and exploration, had flown by. It was time to leave its comforts for the unknown beyond the Gate.
That evening, fog enveloped us as we prepared to depart. Pulling the anchor, we scrubbed stubborn bay muck from the chain. With sails set, we headed toward the Golden Gate Bridge—a rite of passage for many sailors. Having crossed it in various ways, this moment felt different—Avocet was finally southbound.
As the bridge loomed, emotions surged. Tears welled as a mix of accomplishment and apprehension set in. Chris smiled, soaking in the scene. Together, we sailed beneath the iconic span, united in the shared excitement and fear of the unknown.
Sailing San Francisco Bay was unforgettable. Its iconic landmarks, rich maritime history, and vibrant city skyline offered endless adventure. From serene anchorages to thrilling winds and currents, every moment was special, made even better by the people we shared them with. The Bay became more than a destination—it was a place of lasting memories and freedom. Thank you, San Francisco Bay, for everything.
Watch the video recap of our time in the Bay on YouTube: playlist link.
