Spent a couple days (and an evening) out on the water hunting down unsuspecting crustaceans for a pair of dinner parties. So lovely out a few weeks ago and skimming across the blue in a sweet wooden sailboat made me ever so happy.
This gent's not so bad either, though he's got a tendency to knock your cup over. I forgive easily, though, when you've got a nice little yacht I can pretend to be useful on.
Angel Island's looking good these days. Almost time for picnicking and swimming.
I'm now the proud owner of my very own crab-catching apparatus (though perhaps that's something we're all gifted with at birth).
Hauled up a dungeness for the first time. This one wasn't quite regulation size and so was spared a drowning in Old Bay.
Most of these were not so lucky. Its amazing how you can cram a stinky old fish head into a net, drop it to the bottom for a few hours and pull up a meal for twenty.
Or come up with one lone soldier.
Glenn came out the second afternoon to help us fetch pots we'd dropped the night before (after realizing we couldn't find our buoy with two hands in the dark). Night crabbing---good in theory, but a little more difficult in practice, especially when wine is involved. Note to self: Next time bring a flashlight.
Sunshine and a little wind and nobody around. Got a few spots we like to covet and a cove just outside the Gate that's perfect for dropping anchor and breaking out lunch. Thank God someone had the foresight to pack a cooler full of hangover-quelling pilsners. This crabbing is rough business.
I'll never cease to be amazed sailing under the Bridge.
There're some incredible sunsets out there.
I think its safe to say things are pretty goddamn incredible all around.
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What to wish for? Get yourself a license and a crab pot and you've got a new hobby. Get a beautiful boat and you've got a new best friend.