Tales From the ‘Can’ — The Second Annual S. F. Bay Navigator’s Race

Richard vonEhrenkrook gives his account of Berkeley Yacht Club’s 2026 Bay Navigator’s Race, sailed on August 9. Photos courtesy of Evan McDonald.

A two-hour upwind motor delivery got us to San Francisco Aquatic Park, with seven minutes to anchor, ship the Nissan eight, text a screen shot of our lat/long to the RC (as there were six start locations), and get below for the “Fisherman’s Start.” Michael Simon, PhD, nuclear physics, whom I had been geeking out with for over a week, and Chris “Spider-Man” Cassell, the smartest guy in any room, all swore not to fart as we counted the seconds to 0900, sails lowered, competitors lurking nearby, as well as 30-plus swimmers and entourage coming ashore there from “the Rock,” doing the “Escape from Alcatraz” swim, along with the usual smiling Dolphin Club lunatics.

We were a hot mess in our exit at 0900, main halfway up, as we sorted the macrame of five lines going up at the front of the mast; we looked like a back door man slipping out the window with a husband at the front door! Nonetheless, we got to our designated start mark, Blossom Rock buoy, well in front of the Ranger 33 Mojo starting with us.

We had plotted to take maximum advantage of kite legs and current, the decent flood giving way to a weak ebb around noon. Mojo left us at YRA 21, north of Alcatraz, and headed west to the North Bay portal at the dreaded YRA 19, (home of the holes, from where no boat returns), while we opted to hit YRA 24, then reach around the Circle, DOC to XOC, before going west to 19. All boats had a 15-minute motor allowance, and we’d not used any as yet (cognizant that we likely had less than that in gas, having gone full-throttle to S.F. from Richmond).

We were however, 15 minutes up on our course time projections, and the cool fog flow from the SSW was staying laminar. So, we oozed through 19, slow but go, to NCB, off Point Chauncey, and back, so far ahead of our projections that the rest of the day was riffing in the possibilities that remained, once we got back up the wind ladder at N, the Sausalito entrance buoy. The rest came down to two fateful decisions, either of which combined determined who would win.

We got to 24 early, after exhausting the West Bay legs, and opted, after much talk, to head XOC–DOC–Fin, rather than risk penalties for finishing after 1530. The Ultimate 24 Motley U, the scariest thing on the Bay in the big afternoon winds (where we’d had many 10s, and a 10.9 max, in a Cal 20), had been feasting, nay, gorging, on miles far more numerous than all, with a rating that wouldn’t take any of their hard work away.

They would have won, going away. They played with too much fire, however, and after an extra two jibes just outside the Berkeley breakwater, fouled the time limit by four(!!!) seconds. As a footnote, the Can vamped for 10 minutes off the pier, to finish just after 1500. If we’d gone to 19 before the final approach, we would have assured beating the U24, no matter.

Moral of this tale is that this event is an absolute must, and should be attended next year with the same fervor as the Fiasco, at least in the opinion of Max Ebb, who sat with us for a spell as we enjoyed the tasty pizza at BYC après race.