I loath cold icy days and motion sickness, unfortunately my trip to San Francisco consisted of horrible weather with the addition of rough waters and questionably sound ships. As much as I loath bad weather I love traveling and exploring new cities, San Francisco was worth braving 55°F weather and 15 mph wind in July. I’ve never been phobic of confined spaces or water but there is something to be said about an old boat whining into port that set off alarms in my brain. White paint cracking and peeling off revealing rust and old metal didn’t do much to comfort my uneasiness. The smell of exhaust turned my stomach while icy wind bit at my cheeks and nose. The boat was bigger than one used for fishing but not so big it could be a full out ship.
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A much faster velocity made the waves feel rougher the further out we went only making the crests and throws from one set of waves to the next jarring and unsettling.
Alcatraz was difficult to see at the distance our boat stalled, fog didn’t help our case but from what we could see it was oddly pretty, in a up kept botanical prison yard king of way . We all gathered around a misty port hole clouding it with halos of hot breath, taking turns pointing out plants and tiny people in the distance. It felt strangely immersive, the boat engine drowning out any noise cocooning everyone in a white noise making the chipped white interior or the boat feel like a capsule. It wasn’t until we began to circle under the Golden Gate Bridge that waves really began to get rough, a wave sent the boat several feet up and what felt like 12 feet right back down. To my dismay and utter panic I was splashed with salty water, I was far from any opening to the bay. It was after the massive wave I felt the all too familiar flip and clench of my unhappy stomach letting me know it was time to make landfall. I looked over to my Mom and Grandma with an unspoken plea for help, I was so happy to see the crips paper of trident spearmint gum passed to me by my winery Grandma. The comfort of minty distraction from my dry and bitter mouth couldn’t have come sooner, the awful
A much faster velocity made the waves feel rougher the further out we went only making the crests and throws from one set of waves to the next jarring and unsettling.
Alcatraz was difficult to see at the distance our boat stalled, fog didn’t help our case but from what we could see it was oddly pretty, in a up kept botanical prison yard king of way . We all gathered around a misty port hole clouding it with halos of hot breath, taking turns pointing out plants and tiny people in the distance. It felt strangely immersive, the boat engine drowning out any noise cocooning everyone in a white noise making the chipped white interior or the boat feel like a capsule. It wasn’t until we began to circle under the Golden Gate Bridge that waves really began to get rough, a wave sent the boat several feet up and what felt like 12 feet right back down. To my dismay and utter panic I was splashed with salty water, I was far from any opening to the bay. It was after the massive wave I felt the all too familiar flip and clench of my unhappy stomach letting me know it was time to make landfall. I looked over to my Mom and Grandma with an unspoken plea for help, I was so happy to see the crips paper of trident spearmint gum passed to me by my winery Grandma. The comfort of minty distraction from my dry and bitter mouth couldn’t have come sooner, the awful