Ah, the Golden Gate bridge. What?, you don't see it? (neither do we)

The MV "no smoking" off in the distance.

As we approach Angel Island, the fog clears to show us an unbelievably beautiful day.

Signage on the Officer's Quarters

West Garrison from the Bake House

Winny enjoying her second circumnavigation of Angel Island; this time not in race mode.

Bruce rescued a tiny pirate duckie.

Sailboat regatta in the fog.

The gang has a snack and roasts in the sunshine prior to breaking into three distinct pods: go back now, go back a little later, and go back the long way.

The commanding officer's house.

Point Blunt

Bruce and his rubber duckie.

Kayaks and sailboats sharing living space.

We know there is an island out there, and we are fairly certain that we are headed for it. John Lockwood expresses doubt after we collectively told him "we don't need no stinkin' compasses".

A view from above the garrison, with an Instructor's Development Workshop going on below.

Looking back at the eerily quiet Bay Bridge. It's still standing (sort of).

Aprés paddle refreshments on the front porch of the Cavallo Point Lodge.

Elena's first Angel Island crossing. She did great!

And finally, it begins to appear through the fog.

West Garrison

The Bake House, high above the water.

As our pod takes the long way back, we pass along Point Blunt and the basking pelicans.

Signage at the hospital on the east side of the island. Long sad tales in our history.

After passing through Yellow Bluff and a bumpy crossing back through headwinds and an ebb, we finally find a spot with quieter water.

Pretty as a picture.