San Francisco Bay is one of the most exciting and challenging big-city places to sail a large boat. Why? Because the wind always blows.

And I mean that in a good way.

Years ago, the then president of the organization I worked for arranged sailing outings on San Francisco Bay each in conjunction with our annual board meeting. He fancied himself a sailor, but was not a master at it by a long shot.

We’d all meet at the Sausalito Marina, where it was usually sunny and warm. If we had more than five people, then we’d rent two boats. 

I was always on the boat with our fearsome leader. As he would put on his wool hat, gloves, and foul weather gear, some of us would begin to wonder what we were in for. 

Leaving the marina, we’d gawk at the big boats and the fancy houses on the nearby hills. As we put up the reefed sails and turned off the engine, all seemed good.

But then we’d hit The Slot.

The Slot is the place where the Golden Gate Bridge spans San Francisco and Marin County. And every day, the wind comes howling through there at about 25-30 knots. 

As soon as you hit The Slot, the boat immediately heels over with the rail dangerously close to the water, leaving the less seaworthy scrambling for the high side of the boat.

This was always the time our fearsome leader would ask me to take the wheel while he went below to break out the chips and salsa and put on more foul weather gear. Also at this point, the waves start crashing over the front of the boat, pretty much soaking everyone. 

Now, mind you, I have plenty of large boat sailing experience, so I could do this. But it still made me a tad bit nervous.

Once we made it through The Slot and cleaned up the spilled chips and salsa, we’d jibe and head along the San Francisco shoreline and sometimes go under the Bay Bridge. That part was usually pretty uneventful, as the wind is much calmer near the shore.

One time as we were heading back from the Bay Bridge through The Slot toward Angel Island, I was at the helm when one of the passengers suddenly said to me, “Sara, do you see the boat?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Sara, do you see the boat?” he asked again.

“Yes,” I replied again.

“Do you see the boat?” he asked once more, slightly anxious.

“Yes,” I replied once more, slightly annoyed.

“Then why are you going to hit it!” he yelled.

Startled, I looked under our sail and saw a larger sailboat bearing down on us on a starboard tack. I turned the wheel and missed hitting it by about 10 feet. 

I had been looking at another boat off to our right. This one, which had the right of way, had been hidden by my boat’s sail. The captain must have thought I was being a jerk and not giving way.

One of our board members had a sailboat, which he kept in Sausalito. He was an excellent sailor who knew exactly what he was doing. This made everyone feel extremely comfortable. 

People in our group would surreptitiously choose his boat over the one captained by our fearsome leader. But, somehow, I always got stuck on his boat.

I once went sailing on San Francisco Bay in a very seaworthy 40-something ketch captained by a very capable sailor. It had a fixed dodger so we didn’t get wet. We didn’t put up all the sails, so we didn’t heel over too much. 

It was a beautiful day and the wind was howling as we went through The Slot from the Berkeley Marina toward Angel Island. And guess who was at the helm?