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ANGEL_ISLAND

                                    October 6, 2003

The east and west halves of our gang
sail from opposite sides of the bay
to meet at Angel Island.

I go to the touristific
snack shack by the harbor
and then consider just
getting back on the boat.

   "Sure, I've been to Angel
   Island.  I bought a latté
   there."

Really, I lead a charge up into the hills
along the perimeter trail, doing a fast
hike to the North East side of the island.
Yup, panoramic views of the Bay Bridge, the
city and the Golden Gate Bridge.  Such is
the theme park I call home.

    We look down from the cliff
    onto a tiny beach, a large
    black seal-like creature        Camping scheme
    frolicking off-shore.           hypotheticals
                                    are discussed.


When we finally leave harbor, we get
totally becalmed behind the island.
We stare at the wind line an eighth of a
mile away, manually flapping the rudder
and mainsail, without budging.  Eventually
we cheat, and start the motor.

One of the crew had a strange destination
in mind that the rest of us had a hard
time crediting: a show of fire works in
the harbor.  But for what?  Is this the
beginning of fleet week?  A radio station
promo?  Did Bush Jr. decree a new holiday
we hadn't heard about?

   They let us sail up closer to the barge
   than any of us would've imagined.
   The fireworks explode into space over
   our heads, sometimes directly over us.

   Expanding
   pointillist
   spheres of            I like the purple
   color                 and green the
                         best, as usual.

Many of the effects
are new to us:

   Loud banging flashes that
   continue to subdivide,
   fractally bifurcating with a
   pattering rain stick sound

      White round capped streamers
      with wide tails, slowly
      shimmering through the air,
      like an army of ghosts.



Night long since fallen, we sail toward
the Golden Gate bridge: a string of
soft orange lights coming through the
mist, leading us into harbor.

Fog obscures the tops of
the art deco orange
towers... bottom-lit,
gigantic, a now-ancient     They look like a
style of Modern.            bad movie special
                            effect

                               "Burton-Man does Frisco"

We ghost slowly into
the berth without using
the engine.

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