Last time I was in San Diego was for the Fourth of July weekend. I hoped to escape the depressing San Francisco weather but I got gyped. It was muggy and overcast the whole weekend. This time, however, made up for that. The weather was warm and shinny, how I remember San Diego most.

I wanted to shower. Ali was picking me up at 7 and he didn’t want to back-track to his place in Del Mar before we started our night so I gave in. We ate at the Old Town Mexican Restaurant, an originally named Mexican restaurant in Old Town. Afterwards we headed out to the Ould Sod in North Park to meet up with some of Ali’s friends whom I’ve never met. It was karaoke night so I grabbed a slip of paper and looked up my favorite karaoke number: Rhythm of the Night by DeBarge. They had it. It was only a few songs before I was given the mic. The crowd was mostly engaged from what I could tell, especially two cute girls in front. One of them mouthed, “I like your mustache.” After the song, I high-fived my way to the back of the bar where my friends were drinking. I told Ali about the girls, glaced back and saw that they had left. Ten minutes later, they appeared in the back of the bar, next to our table. We started chatting it up and I eventually sang a couple duets with one of them. I said I wouldn’t do any Grease and suggested Don’t You Want Me by the Human League, which we sang. Then she suggested Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me by Elton John, which I still don’t think is a duet, but we pulled it off. She gave me her business card. She was a masuse. I would have felt special at having pulled her number except for the fact that she had given her card to two other guys. Cards are impersonal anyways. That didn’t stop me from texting her the next day. We texted a few times back and forth and then nothing. I guessed she didn’t respond because I was leaving and perhaps because I was too young. I never would have guessed it, but she was 35. I knew this because she asked me my age, testing to see if my age was within her self-set boundaries, whatever those were.

The next morning Ali cooked some breakfast burritos complete with hash browns, refried beans, tomatoes, eggs and avocado. We left the house to take a hike at Torrey Pines State Park. I still hadn’t showered. It made no sense if we were going to hike and go to the beach. It had been just 3 days on the water, but I was already accustomed to seeing land from the ocean, not the ocean from the land. I looked out at the Pacific with a different perspective. I also looked out a lot farther. The water was still like glass and the wind nonexistant. There were some more porpoises swimming north, close to the shore. We hiked down the bottom of the cliffs and tossed the frisbee around on the beach. Ali and I first met when we both joined the ultimate Frisbee team in our junior years. We then left to pick up Ali’s girlfriend and go to a sushi happy hour that Ali heard about. Happy hour was at four, so I still would have no time to take a shower. The happy hour specials were meager. I split the $56 bill with Ali. Sushi never comes out cheap.

We went back to Ali’s and I took a shower.

Friday night Ali and I met up with my other friends from college, Sarah and Zhi-ning, at the Whistle Stop in South Park. We caught up on each others’ lives. Sarah and I compared iPhones; she had the older version and I had the newer 3G. They were still living together in the same UTC apartment since I left San Diego in 2005. Sarah lived close enough to walk to work but still drove. Zhi-ning was doing contract programming work for some sort of software that will eliminate the need for humans to read your electrical meters. After closing, we finished the night with the ritual of 2am burritos. I ordered a California burrito, which I’ve never seen outside of San Diego. It’s a regular carne asada burrito with french fries added. Taquerias that serve this also serve carne asada fries. They’re essentially the same plate only the fries lack a tortilla and you eat them with a fork.

Our Saturday was like a Sunday. After two nights of going out we wanted to veggitate for a day. I read emails and wrote about my trip. I also read his graduate school enterance essay. Ali cleaned his room and bathroom. It took us all day to accomplish these tasks. That night we met up with our mutual friend Brandon and went out in North Park.

Sunday was lazier than the day before. We ate Brunch with Sarah, Zhi-ning and Tracy at T’s Cafe in Solana Beach. After the girls left us in the parking lot we decided to stay and watch the Chargers game; they were down by 7 with a few minutes on the clock. It was taking place in London. I still can’t believe there was an NFL game held in London. It knew it will be a historic day, much like the day JT pulled off Janet Jackson’s top as part of a Super Bowl halftime show. It took me all day to pack, wash my clothes and shower.

At 9pm Ali drove me back to the boat. Crystal Blue Persuasion was anchored outside the East end of Harbor Island. Jordan met me with the dinghy on the steep rocky shore because the dock was a much farther row. I loaded it with my bags and 6 cases of beer. He rowed me out to the boat where the new crew members were conversing. It was surreal to be anchored in San Deigo Bay. Looking out my porthole I could see the downtown skyline. In the sky I saw a Southwest 737 aiming towards the airport.

The wind wasn’t generous but we were moving at a decent pace, 8 knots or so. After two hours the wind became stingier and we slowed to 2 knots. This wasn’t fast enough, so Gary made the decision to fire up the engines and motor until we encountered better wind conditions.

As the sun was setting, I got excited for the showcase of stars that was unveiling. I’ve always taken interest in constellations and astronomy but it’s rare to find a suitable opportunity for stargazing. In cities, there is too much light pollution from the strip malls and gas stations to see the faint stars. I’ve strained to make out Pisces and Capricorn, eventually taking for granted that they were up there. Camping away from the bright city lights gives you the opportunity to see an unpolutted sky, but unless you’re camping on the prairie there are too many obstructions on the horizon and you can never see a full 180 degrees of sky. Out on the sea there are no obstructions on the horizon and the only light is the moon. You can see 180 degrees of sky and 360 degrees of horizon. Conditions could have been improved only if the moon was new instead of waxing crecent.

I was manning the helm at twilight. Sagitarius was setting in the West and Taurus was rising in the East. When Sagitarius dipped below the horizon and Capricorn took its place, I knew it had been two hours. These and other zodiac constellations aren’t just for morning horroscopes, they follow the elliptic, the path the sun takes accross the sky. Just like the sun, stars appear to revolve around the earth and can give you an idea the time of day. What is a day? The Earth doing one spin on its own axis. Another Earthly cycle that can be measured with the stars is a year. A year is the Earth revolving around the sun; it’s the reason for seasons—short cold days in winter and long hot days in summer. You can guess an approximate date based on how long the sun is up and where it sets but it’s more accurate to use the stars as a gauge because constelations act like the tick marks of a compass. The sun has no such markings unless you make them alá a sundial.

I’ve learned that sailing at night is exactly like sailing during the day, except you might as well be blindfolded. Everything is black. The sea is black. Land is black (if there is any). The sky is black. My biggest fears were hitting another vessel or running aground, which, other than staying on course, are my primary goals when sailing regardless the rotation of the Earth. Most obstacles at night shine a light. Populated land is dotted with glowing dwellings. Trafficked waters with land hazards are usually marked with lighthouses. Vessels are required to shine specific colored lights at specific locations and the sky is marked by the moon and constellations. A light may signify the mere presence of an obstacle but not much else. A light far on the horizon could mean land. It could be a sailboat. It could be a tanker. It could just be a star. To figure out what it is, you need to monitor its behavior. Speed, size and direction of a light-shining entity become evident in time but you must take into account your own course. Comparing your observations to a chart and your coordinates can tell you which lights should be land. For vessels, as they get closer, you can see their green starboard light or red port light. When I saw the red light of what looked to be a tanker, I narrowed down its direction to several possibilities. On my starboard it would be heading in the same direction as me. On my port, it would be steering towards me. Dead ahead it would be bisecting my route, traveling left. With constant vigilence, geographical and nautical knowledge, I was able to navigate Crystal Blue Persuasion through the night unscathed and on course. Lucky for us we also have a radar with a 36 mile radius which is good for identifying the lurking irresponsible hazards that are without lights.

Thursday morning I woke up at 6:30 and relieved Captain Gary from his post, which he’d been at since 12:30. The rosy fingers of dawn were fondling California. We were passing the southern tip of San Clemente Island and San Diego was a straight shot away at 100 degrees, nearly due East. The rising sun’s acute rays were piercing my retinas. The air and water was notably warmer and already putting me in cheery spirits. The water was still flat and the wind stingy. The motors had been running since we left Santa Cruz. A few hours later, the rest of the crew rose to meet the day and the Admiral took over the helm.

Around 11:00 we ran out of gas. Gary had been closely monitoring our fuel consumption and inventory but apparently the fuel pickup hose didn’t reach the bottom of the tank. The 10 gallons of diesel needed to take us the rest of the way was trapped at the bottom of the tank. It wasn’t an emergency, just an unanticipated event. The attitude aboard the boat was, “Oh well, guess we’ll sail then.” With the current wind conditions, there was no doubt we’d reach San Diego before dusk. All we needed was a little bit of fuel to gracefully dock in San Diego. The main sail had been up the whole time so we unfurled the jib to catch some more wind. The Admiral cast some fishing lines in the water and we were sailing. Jordan and I agreed we’d both grown tired of listening to the engines anyways.

I crab-walked down the stairs at the end of a hull and put my foot in to test the water. It was a sultry 60 degrees Fahrenheit, clear and turquoise. We were moving slow enough that Gary said if we wanted to swim, we could jump of the bow, tread water under the boat and climb back on the stern once it passed. Jordan did so immediately and I followed suit. Catamarans are perfect for swimming. I’m giddy with anticipation about the climate farther south because it’s only going to get warmer from here.

Gary radioed another boat participating in the Haha for some extra fuel. Sea Level answered our plea and we filled the tank with enough gas to maneuver to a fuel dock once in the harbor. The exchange of fuel must have sparked the Border Patrol’s suspicions because they sidled us to ask how many people were on the boat and if we were US citizens. Gary answered, “Four” and “Yes” and they continued with their business of securing the border.

Seven miles from San Diego we sailed through a school of porpoises. There were 200 or so of them for 500 yards in either direction. They all did the same move: an arch jump, slicing the surface of the water with their dorsal fins, assumedly for the purpose of breathing. Sometimes four or five of them would jump in unison, as if they were in a synchronized swimming competition. I failed at snapping a photo worth publishing but I have lots of photos of water just after a porpoise has jumped. I only hope this is a sign of the marine life I’ll encounter later.

We cut through some weeds of kelp at the entrance of San Diego Bay. I recalled the scenery from when I used to sail here during my college days: Point Loma Lighthouse, Ballast Point, the Airport, Downtown, Coronado Bridge. The course to the fuel dock was upwind so we decided we were close enough to burn our last bit of charity fuel. The police dock where we were supposed to check in was closed and so was the fuel dock. Gary decided to wait at the fuel dock till morning.

I had called my friend Ali as soon as I had cell phone reception and he came to pick me up. I’m staying at his place in Del Mar till Sunday evening. Monday morning is the official start of the Haha.