Yesterday Carol drove us back to sea level after we had spent the night at 4,000’ at our friends, Howard’s and Susan’s home in Julian. Carol’s business travel awards provided a free suite at the Sheraton on Harbor Island. Once again we were on the eight floor, but this time with two 65” LG Oled TVs, two refrigerators, and two balconies. We were also given privileges at the Club on the thirteenth floor where excellent free dinner and breakfast buffets are provided. The above unfortunately fuzzy photo was taken there last night. From right to left is Glenfiddich 12 year—they didn’t have Laphroaig. An orchid. A glass of Chardonnay. And Carol, who at this moment is flying back to the very frozen flatlands. I fly back a week from tomorrow.
Harbor Island is not an island, but a man made peninsula created from harbor dredgings. Marinas first opened there fifty years ago. I moved the Ericson 35 there in January 1970 and lived on board her and her replacement, the Ericson 37, until I left for my first attempt at Cape Horn in November 1974. My slip was on the first or second dock from the end of the island at the top of the photo. Carol and I walked down there and I could not be certain, but I think the second. I do recall that I had the third slip in from the end and on the east side of the dock, which in San Diego is almost always the lee side, so I could sail the engineless EGREGIOUS in and out of her slip under almost all conditions.
There was no feeling of nostalgia as we stood outside the marina gate or in the above view from our room. I have grown old enough so that some parts of my life seem to have happened to another person, a stranger. I may have once belonged on Harbor Island to a certain extent, but I am now an outsider here, perhaps everywhere. I suppose I like it that way.
I have now happily returned to GANNET and real life.
A nautical forest.
