Beatin' the Heat. After a wonderful opening day sail on Scotts Flat Lake with Hugh and Nicki, it was time for Teresa and me to repay the favor at sea level. They are both experienced ocean sailors and knew enough to dress for conditions not found on the lake. Little did they know that despite several layers of clothes and foulies, the trip would be as cold as it would be fun. They arrived at Kia Orana's slip in South Beach Harbor in plenty of time for our scheduled noon departure. Several dockcart loads of supplies later, we were ready to cast off ahead of schedule under overcast skies and moderate wind. There was a brief discussion about heading to Redwood City in search of warmth, but our original plan for a weekend in Half Moon Bay prevailed. We set a reefed main and the Bay Blaster jib and sailed along the waterfront. With some shipping traffic and a wind blowing directly through The Gate, we opted to start the iron genny long enough to get us past Mile Rock where we could bear off to the South. We scanned the horizon, but saw no sight of Sam, an old friend with whom we've sailed thousands of miles. His plan was to leave before us on the 60-foot Lidgard sloop, Final Approach, but as we were passing under the Golden Gate Bridge, he called to say that he was behind us. Final Approach is a pedigreed ocean racer and very fast. We're not racers, but no cruiser likes being passed. The race was on, but not without the creature comforts of lunch being prepared in the galley. We eased off to SW, stopped the motor, and had a nice line to the Montara marker on a close reach. The wind is normally from the NW at this time of year, but there was nothing normal about this weekend's weather. Moving along nicely across a slight swell, we were making good time but still looking back over our shoulders for the first sight of Final Approach's 80-foot mast. We would occasionally spot a Harbor Porpoise, but except for the crab pot buoys set out in a line that matched our tack, no other ocean dwellers. Maybe it was too cold for them. About 5 hours after passing under the Golden Gate Bridge, the Pillar Point radar resembling an overgrown golf ball appeared through the fog. The phone rang again, it was Sam with the news that he was "going to turn in in an hour". We were looking for the #1 channel marker into Pillar Point Harbor and the racing boat was well over an hour away! Inside the breakwater, we furled the sails and dropped the anchor in the NW corner behind the bluff. That may have been when we opened the first bottle of wine, I really can't remember, but after a while, Final Approach finally approached the harbor. After they'd successfully anchored nearby, we got out the docklines, put out the fenders, retrieved our anchor, and moved alongside. Their crew of three had suffered one injury and one case of seasickness, our crew had demonstrated their strong stomachs and self-preservation instinct by arriving healthy...if you don't count my bashed arm. Our 36-footer seems so small next to such a big boat with its towering mast. Grilled chicken, potatoes, and salad was the menu. The chicken and salad were very tasty, but the potatoes were left on the grill for more cooking time. Maybe this is when we opened the first bottle of wine, I really can't remember, but there was music and frivolity in Kia Orana's cabin until Hugh fell asleep at the nav station. That's when we decided to turn in. Bang! Bang! Bang! I awoke from a sound sleep and stuck my head out the hatch to see Sam banging on our cabin, saying, "Dudley, look at my boat!" It took a moment, but once I got my bearings I could see 30 tons of racing sailboat leaning toward us at about a 15 degree angle, our mast rigs only inches apart. Final Approach's 10-foot keel was not happy being in 7 feet of water. We decided moving off and dropping our own hook was the prudent move. Despite being 4AM, Hugh popped out of bed and helped me get Kia Orana safely anchored about 100 feet away from Final Approach. We were soon all back asleep. Morning brought more gloomy fog and cold wind. Over coffee and hash browns made from last night's still-uncooked potatoes, we discussed our plan to sail out for some whale watching. Nobody was too thrilled with the idea of freezing, so we called the harbor master and got a slip, as had Final Approach. The docks were buzzing with activity as the fishing fleet sold its catch of Halibut and crab to the tourists. One boat advertised its catch of live rattlesnake, but we didn't bite. Nicki and Teresa wandered off while Hugh and I marveled at the enormity of some of the boats along the dock. Before long, Sam appeared looking for help flaking his main onto the boom. A simple task on Kia Orana, the process took the 3 of us half-an-hour on Final Approach, ending any big-boat lust Hugh may have had. Nicki wanted to see the Half Moon Bay Yacht Club, and once we all met up again, we walked over to check it out. A member greeted us at the door and, after saying we were from the Gold Country Yacht Club, we were welcomed inside where we found them in mad preparation for a big feast that evening. Beans simmered in a witchlike cast iron pot stirred with a small oar. The galley chef, showing some body parts we really didn't want to see, prepared tri-tip and chicken. The smell of garlic wafted on the currents of warmth generated by the wood stove in the funky old clubhouse with a cast of characters to match. Hugh and Nicki left for a restaurant with their son and daughter-in-law who had driven up from Castroville while Teresa and I remained with Sam and Susan for a $12 dinner and sea stories at the yacht club. When satisfied, we walked back to the boat to lie down for a moment before going to party with Hugh and Nicki. An hour and a half later, we awoke with a jolt to a silent cabin. Having run out of energy, the Talman clan soon rejoined us for some chit-chat in the heated cabin before the junior generation left for home and we quickly fell asleep. Monday morning was just as gloomy, but the wind was somewhat diminished. After visiting the fuel dock, we threaded our way out the breakwater and past the channel markers warning of the nasty reef that at the right time of the year is known as Mavericks. With a slight wind on the nose, there was no chance of sailing. The engine pushed us along as we scanned the horizon in vain for whales. The swell off Half Moon Bay soon gave way to flatter seas. As Seal Rock came within sight, we began to feel the effects of the current flooding into The Bay. By Mile Rock, the current was adding 2 knots to our progress, pushing us past the South Tower at 10 knots. Passing under the Bay Bridge, we could see the crowd at the Giants ballpark next to the marina. We took a detour into McCovey cove to sample the ambiance during a Giants game when our son called from Grass Valley to say he had just seen us on TV. It's always nice to know big brother is watching. Safely back in port and the thawing process started, the GCYC cruise to HMBYC was declared a success, Kia Orana returning with one of their burgees to add to the collection at Scotts Flat Lake. Thanks to the crew.