SPARROWHAWK
ANNE THOMAS
DELTA DOO DAH DONE —
Who knew that trimming a spinny on a Moore 24 could be this relaxing? But what goes up (river) must come down.
T
he Delta Doo Dah Dozen, a DIY cruising rally taking place over the course of the late spring and summer season, proved wildly popular in times of pandemic. But what comes next? You've got your boat upriver and downwind; now you've got to get downriver and upwind. If you can wait for the perfect weather window, and maybe make a couple of overnight stops along the way, so much the better. But not every Delta cruiser has the time and flexibility to do that, hence the dreaded 'Bay Bash'. On May 23, as her spring Doo Dah was winding down, Jackie Philpott, singlehanding her Cal 2-27, wrote from Delta Marina in Rio Vista: "The gusts on the Sacramento today were serious, knock-down-fatlittle-Dura-Mater gusts. Different than the Bay Area. My boat was very brave." Down the Seven Bridges Road Sparrowhawk, Moore 24 Sparrowhawk's trailer lives in Brickyard Cove's dry storage yard. While the trailer was up to the task of moving the Moore 24 to the hoist for launching, we had no faith in her ability to carry the boat home from Stockton on the Interstate freeways. So our delivery from her summer vacation home in a slip at Owl Harbor in Isleton to Point Richmond would be on her own bottom. Our first step was to call Ron Moore Page 68 •
Latitude 38
• November, 2020
and ask him if the boat's transom could handle the weight of a 40-lb. 5-hp Nissan two-stroke outboard. He said sure — but also that he could fix it if it broke! We chose the weekend of August 1516, and decided it would be more fun if we made a micro-mini-vacation stop in Benicia. We set the alarm for 5:30 a.m. and departed Owl Harbor at 7 a.m. Bridge #1: Antioch Bridge Riding the ebb, we motored to Pittsburg at 7 knots speed over ground. We turned the corner past Pittsburg Yacht Club and popped out into Suisun Bay. It was really rough, with big chop, still ebbing. So we turned back to Pittsburg and tied up at the municipal marina to wait for the flood. We hung out in Pittsburg for an hour, and bought Cokes at the Waterfront Grill & Café so that we could use the restrooms. (Although there's lots of activity — jogging, stroll-
At 4 a.m. all hell broke loose. ing, fishing, boat launching, etc. — around the Pittsburg waterfront, all of the public restrooms within walking distance had been padlocked since the original shelter-in-place orders.) The café employees were doing a decent business serving patio diners and takeout customers, and were very nice. We left Pittsburg at noon and took the shortest course between Stake Point and the beginning of the Port Chicago restricted area, then also the shortcut
A Delta Doo Dah Dozen daysail to Potato Slough. This little 3.5-hp motor was not the horse for the course home to Richmond.
past Seal Island, cutting time and distance off the shipping channel route. Stake Point, by the way, shows on our chart as being on land. At low tide, the red shipping channel daymark was in water and not on land. However, the water was very shallow, with little wavelets breaking. Motor ing aga inst the f lood ( but through flat water) our speed dropped to 4.5 knots. We had no sails up. Bridges #2-4: Benicia Railroad Bridge and I-680 We arrived in Benicia around 2 p.m. It was baking hot. The friendly folks at Benicia Marina charged us $24 for our 24-footer to spend the night in a 35-ft slip on B Dock, which is relatively convenient for walking into town. By the time we got the boat squared away in her temporary quarters, we were overheated. We took beach towels, sodas and reading material up to the lawn bordering the marina, found some shade under a giant weeping willow, and chilled for a while. Thus refreshed, we walked up to 1st Street and celebrated happy hour with a mojito and an incredible smoked salmon appetizer at the Union Hotel. The hotel's restaurant has bistro tables set up on the sidewalk and in a side patio. We were the first customers, but the place soon started filling up. Much later — a bit too late — we struck out to 1st Street again for dinner. Some places had already stopped serving. The Union Hotel was hopping. We settled on a glass of wine
