Leave Oakland for good

The real departure. Dropped the lines at Oakland, ran down the estuary and out under the Golden Gate on an ebb, and turned left for the first time with no plan to come back. The city went astern and stayed there.

Somewhere off the coast the outboard engine bracket let go, the dinghy motor swinging loose against the rail until I could wrestle it down and lash it. A hard first lesson about what a real sea does to anything not built for it. I bore off for Monterey Bay, made the anchorage tired and wiser, and slept like the dead.