Max Ebb — Cash or Crash
Ever since I volunteered to serve on a subcommittee of the local chapter of my professional society, I’ve had to schlep into the city one more day each month for the meetings. I was trying to figure out how to gracefully un-volunteer from this commitment, but that all changed when we settled on a meeting venue that’s much better than rotating it among various downtown offices. Now we meet for a late lunch in the plaza behind the San Francisco Ferry Building, over by the Gandhi statue.
Our subcommittee members are scattered all over the Bay Area. The North Bay contingent takes the ferry from Sausalito, Larkspur or Vallejo, the East Bayers ferry in from Oakland, Alameda or Richmond, and the Peninsula folk get the short end of the deal, taking BART to the Embarcadero. One of our company analysts proved what we had already discovered, that the Ferry Building minimized total collective travel time for our group.
Better than that, the ferry ride is always a pleasure. The boat is never more than about one-third full, and it’s satisfying to watch the familiar islands, headlands and racing marks fly by at 30 knots plus. But not every passenger is sold on travel by sea. Last time I got in line to board the boat, an elderly woman in front of me in the line was visibly uncomfortable as we watched our ferry approach the dock.
“Uh, look at the way it rocks in the waves,” she said to her companion just before she swallowed a small pill. “I know I’m going to be seasick.”
Her friend tried to assure that it would be a smooth ride, but the concerned woman was already losing color. She reminded me of some landlubbers I know who feel ill just looking at a large bowl of soup.
My eavesdropping was cut short by the rapid clicks of bicycle gears rolling up behind me, and then a short screech of skidding tires. It was Lee Helm on her bike, coming in way too fast on a short final approach.
“What brings you to the city today?” I asked.
“Yo, Max!” she greeted me as she dismounted. “I like, have a consulting gig on the side. Cool project, can’t tell you what it is exactly.”
“I’m not surprised that you like the ferry ride,” I said.
“My Naval Architecture 101 prof started our first class session by asserting, like, without evidence, that ‘God intended people to travel by ship.'”
“I hear there’s a ferry terminal coming to our marina,” I said. “I’m really looking forward to making it part of my regular commute.”
“I’m fighting it as hard as I can,” Lee surprised me with her answer. “And like, so are most of the small-boat sailors, windsurfers, fishers, dog owners and parents of toddlers that I know.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“Our marina is a city park,” she explained. “The ferry plans call for eight departures every weekday morning, with 400-passenger boats. Even if ridership projections are all wrong — and, like, they always are — and the boats are only half full, that’s 1,600 passengers, and at the usual ratio of 0.6 cars per passenger, we’d need parking for 960 cars. The Ferry Authority and the City can only come up with 250 existing spaces — maybe 400 if they reconfigure the lot and knock down a bunch of trees.”
Not everybody gets to the ferry by car, so your assumption of the number of parking spaces needed for the number of expected passengers is likely inaccurate. We live in Napa and frequently use the Vallejo Ferry to travel to SF. We leave our car in Napa and ride the VINE bus to Vallejo. While waiting to board the ferry, we see many passengers arrive by car- either private, UBER, or LYFT. These cars do not stay, and, like us, do not occupy a parking space near the ferry.