The Ferocious Summer Winds of San Francisco Bay
San Francisco Bay has a well-deserved reputation as a ferocious place to sail, especially during the summer months. When it heats up inland, the fog hovers around the bridge, the chilled air blows in under the Gate, and a strong ebb builds a steep chop in the Slot, it turns into one of the most exhilarating and exhausting places you’ll ever sail. However, head around the corner by South Beach, up the Oakland Estuary or over by Knox and Raccoon Strait and you can be in a different world. That was last Friday during the Corinthian Beer Can Races.
After a light-air start in Belvedere Cove, the course was up to the Coast Guard buoy in “Hurricane Gulch” off Sausalito, down to R “8”/#19 in the North Bay ship channel, and return to the finish off the Corinthian. It was a fading flood so the water was flat, and despite some hints of fog over Sausalito, the breeze was calm and warm. Hurricane Gulch was only “Breezy Gulch.”
Though many had their foulies ready for the worst of July winds on the Bay, many others sailed the course in shorts and T-shirts. It was another reminder that, regardless of reports of 30 knots on the Bay’s hills, or the howling winds reported by crew members driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, you’ve got to get to the waterfront and see what’s happening right where you’ll be sailing. The Bay Area’s famous microclimates might have something different in mind for your chosen sailing venue.
Yes, these are not the scenes of the adrenaline-/testosterone-/caffeine-fueled, viral Red Bull videos. They’re just people going sailing for the fun of it. So every once in a while, you’ll have to suffer through a period of calm. You’ll get over it.
Summer does have those chilly, breezy, bumpy evenings, but they’re part of the fun. It’s an exceptionally rare summer evening that we’d begin to think it wasn’t worth going out.
Despite the Bay’s storied, blustery summer sailing conditions, it’s also true you can usually find a comfortable place to sail. We heard the Bayview Boat Club’s 73-boat Plastic Classic enjoyed an equally pleasant day of sailing in the South Bay on Saturday. The days are long, the summer sun is high, and if you play your cards right, you’ll find the right time and place to enjoy sailing San Francisco Bay.
Are you sailing this week? What’s your preference — blustery and fast, or calm and casual?
I’m getting older and so are my friends who sail the evening Sausalito beer canners with me. It’s nice for the winds to stay moderate, the currents to cooperate, and the RC to pick a course that gets us back to the berth in time for a visit to the clubhouse for a burger following the race — before the hour’s drive home. If I want heavy weather sailing I’ll head for the City Front in the afternoon!
Not sure if it’s related to the below-average temperatures in San Francisco this summer, but this Pier 39-based sailor has seen 28-30kt winds on each of my outings since late May. Makes me wish I had a deeper 2nd reef!
Aboard Cetacea, the legendary Shetaceans embrace the wild heart of San Francisco Bay, where three distinct sailing seasons unfold like chapters in an epic saga.
The adventure begins as the flood tide surges past Point Bonita — Cetacea slices through the water like a creature reborn. The crew sets their course through the deceptively mild Raccoon Straits, skimming past Angel Island, where eerie calm reigns below while the fog shrieks overhead, clawing at the sky.
Then comes the fury: a sudden broad reach to Treasure Island or homeward to South Beach, wind screaming at 28 to 32 knots, the boat surging forward at 8.5 to 9.7 knots. The rigging groans, waves roar, and Cetacea dances on the edge of chaos.
When the Bay turns brutal and decks are too treacherous to man, we take refuge below — eyes fixed on the maelstrom through the pilothouse windows. White-capped chop hurls foam 42 feet aft, spray lashes the cockpit, and we heel at a steady 25 degrees — sometimes giving in to 35 degrees when the wind roars to 34 knots. For a breathless second, the sea swallows the bottom of the windows.
The Gale arrives like clockwork — a daily curtain-raiser at noon, a final crescendo by five. There’s nothing else like it on Earth.
Your only passport to this tempest-touched world? A strong, seaworthy vessel and a fearless crew.