Now that the repair is behind us we’ve been spending some time exploring the bay and plotting our next steps. The winter storm Brutus is just now hitting the west coast (ps. when did they start naming winter storms?), which gave us good reason to hunker down through the weekend. On Monday after we paid our bill at the boatyard and said goodbye to several new friends at the marina we departed for a long afternoon sail past Alcatraz and around Angel Island. The wind shifted as we moved around the bay, with land masses nudging the wind one way or another as we weaved around and through them.
Angel Island (source: Wikipedia…thank you, Wikipedia)
There are mooring buoys at Ayala cove on Angel Island, but they cost $15 a night and we’re cheap (at least we’re trying to be). We wound up anchoring out on the east side of the island just north of Point Blunt and south of Fort McDowell. The anchorage was incredibly rolly during the day, with ferries and barges and pleasure boats cruising past. It reminded me of the scene in Mary Poppins where the housekeepers are holding china cabinets and paintings and vases to prevent them from clattering to the ground every time the neighbor fires the cannon. After enough back and forth movement Serenity starts to gain momentum, every oscillation deeper than the last, and things start to fall. Frantically we reach out to immobilize our hurtling belongings with our hands, feet, hips and heads, until the swaying passes.
After a couple hours it became rote behavior. I would be reading my book and extend my feet to keep my mug from falling over and spilling coffee. Fortunately the traffic slowed after about 10pm and didn’t pick up again until 7am (even earlier, according to Jeff…an unsettling alarm clock). We were anchored in about 24 feet of water and our anchor held us through it all (in fact, it held us a little too well, it turns out – another story).
Our rolly, but beautiful anchorage.
As we were circling the island, Jeff and I began to tell each other fictional stories about the many buildings scattered across the hills. It turns out that Angel Island has an incredibly rich history. On day two, during an incredibly warm sunny day we ventured ashore to attempt to learn the real stories behind this island and its many buildings (once Jeff got our dinghy to start after a persistent hours of wishing it to work – yet another story).
Angel Island is considered to be the Ellis Island of the East, but unlike Ellis Island it isn’t generally associated with a welcome feeling and memories of inclusion. Conditions were deplorable, especially for Asian immigrants who were separated from the other immigrants and treated with great suspicion and disdain, largely because of the Chinese Exclusion Act. Some Asian immigrants were detained for up to two years before either being allowed to settle on the mainland or deported. This discriminatory exclusion law wasn’t repealed until 1943, 61 years after it had been passed.
An immigrant country. My great grandma and grandpa came over from Denmark in the early 1900’s. 
Model of the processing and detention center in the foreground with one of the actual buildings in the background.
After immigration services were moved to San Francisco the immigration center was used to detain prisoners of war during WWII. Nearby Fort McDowell was used to house and process soldiers either being deployed for or arriving back from battles in the Pacific during the war. The site now houses numerous Park Service employees who presumably are working to restore and maintain the buildings and to make sure the history of this place remains accessible to locals and curious wanderers from afar. If you live in San Francisco or are here for a visit, I highly recommend spending a day on the Island (I think they have ferries to the Island…or you could befriend a boater? Just don’t try to swim there). I wish we had time to do the full 5 mile loop and visit the curated museums. I’m glad for the time we did have though.
How they used to do tours. Now they use Segues (sounds weird to pluralize it).
We returned to the boat at sunset and settled in for the evening to listen to the election results (flipping between NPR and a conservative talk radio station). With the history of Angel Island fresh in my mind I couldn’t help but think back on the conflicting history of our country and to hope for a more inclusive future.
Looking out towards Tiburon Point.