Drake’s Bay: A World Away and Close to Home

The four-day Thanksgiving forecast was gorgeous, and with both our daughters home for the weekend, we were determined to get a night out on the boat. Sadly, a severe head cold almost foiled plans, but holding off until Saturday night and armed with DayQuil, NyQuil and all the healthy herbs known to humankind, we took off for a night at Drake’s Bay. About 26 miles from Point Bonita until you can drop the hook makes it a good distance for a long daysail. If there’s wind.

Beneath clear skies and a nice morning northeasterly breeze in the Bay, a very helpful ebb current flushed us out to Point Bonita in no time, though we did note that the current would probably be less helpful on our return. The Bonita Channel was reasonable, but the surf hitting under the lighthouse reminded us to keep clear of Potato Patch, which had some stunning rollers with a few cresting waves. Thankfully, they all settled down as we headed north through the deeper water of the channel. It wasn’t long before the wind faded to motorsailing conditions, and then more motoring than sailing.

There was lots of sealife, with porpoises heading out the Gate, a couple of whale spouts, and lots of bird life and sea lions. It never ceases to amaze us how little you have to sail before being completely detached from our busy metro area. Muir Beach, Stinson Beach and Bolinas all look small from not far offshore. The coastal range, Mount Tam and the Point Reyes National Seashore dominate the coastal scenery that wouldn’t have looked that different before Sir Francis Drake arrived almost 500 years ago.

We set a plow anchor with plenty of scope in about 15 feet of water at near low tide, in a very calm and surprisingly uncrowded harbor. (Besides during the Drake’s Bay Race, has anyone ever seen it crowded?) In fact, we were the only ones there. We’re not sure how often people take a single overnight up to Drake’s Bay, but with the right forecast, it’s a stunning, remote destination that is amazingly protected from almost every direction but the east. You’d be correct in guessing that the very calm evening gave way to rising breezes from the east for the night as we attempted to sleep. It wasn’t too many hours after we’d had cheese, crackers, cocktails and NyQuil on deck that the scene changed.

Fortunately, the “kids” prepared an excellent meal while we nursed our cold, and dinner and the evening went as smoothly as could be. We said good night to a nearly full moon before, at around 11 p.m., a bit of breeze began to riffle through the rigging and some slight ripples started to tap under the hull. It was never too much breeze, but the long fetch meant the chop built, the boat rocked, and a quiet night’s sleep would have to wait until we got home. Periodic checks topside showed the anchor holding firm and the chafing gear doing its job, while tending a few rattles limited some of the noise. But sunrise couldn’t really come soon enough. No one was sleeping much, and eying the visible shoreline confirmed we weren’t dragging toward danger.

We managed some delicious pancakes in the bouncy conditions before strong backs lifted the well-set anchor more easily than we might have imagined. Was it really well set? We then motored east to cheat ourselves a little way to weather before bearing off on a close reach for the offshore breeze home. We couldn’t quite fetch the entrance to Bonita Channel, and knowing the power of the ebb awaiting us around the corner, we decided to furl the jib, fire up the diesel, and motorsail with main only, through the channel. The waves on Potato Patch were again impressive, but with a couple of center-console fishing boats riding them up and down, we felt far from the danger.

We did have to power past Bonita Lighthouse, where our speed over ground dropped from six to three knots, but curling into Bonita Cove got us back up over six knots, and hugging the Marin shore had us repeating the three knots at the points, and six knots plus tucked into the coves. The joyride out the day before was now a fight back into the Bay.

Our overnight was about 34 hours round trip, but we felt as though we’d sailed a world away from the hustle and bustle we crossed under as we entered the Gate. We couldn’t feel luckier to find these moments when the family is together, and somehow even the cold seemed to diminish for the duration. With good forecasts you can find great escapes for fall cruising in the Bay Area, even if it doesn’t always result in a good night’s sleep.