Staying safely in port turned out to be the best strategy

   POINT RICHMOND - The Red Writer was all set to barrel off in search of clean air two days ago.
     Bags were being packed, groceries assembled, maps out, air quality indexes checked regularly.

Portland, Ore. air Tuesday

     Admiral Fox and I knew right away going north was out of the question.
     As we were prepping we could see fires were surging all over Oregon and Washington, adding smoke and danger to what was already happening just north of us here in California. Going north would be driving into an inferno.
     To the east, where cleaner air appeared to be, smoke was billowing fast in that direction, filling cities like Reno, Nevada with air even more foul than that in San Francisco.
     And so we ultimately decided to simply stay put - for the moment.
     By the way, thanks to all the folks between San Francisco and the East Coast who offered us safe harbor. It's very much appreciated. And please keep your porch lights on.
     By mid-day Tuesday, staying put proved to have been a good bet. The air cleared sufficiently to make breathing a lot easier (see AirNow's reading below). Predictions are for relatively clean air all this week.
     As comforting as that might be, The Red Writer is still locked and loaded if we need to bust a move.

Point Richmond, Calif. Tuesday

The Red Writer is ready for a quick getaway - from wildfire smoke

   POINT RICHMOND, Calif. - When Admiral Fox and I first got The Red Writer T@B trailer, one name we considered briefly was Escape Velocity.

     That name certainly seemed fitting today as I uncovered The Red Writer, got the new wheels torqued and brought it back to our condominium. It's our safe-haven hedge and rolling lifeboat in case the smoke drives us out of here.
    And it's close to doing that amigos, it's very close.
    This morning we awoke to near zero visibility outside (photo below), a mixture of coastal fog and smoke from wildfires way north of us. And it's bad enough that health authorities advise staying indoors.
     California is on fire - but so are the states of Oregon and Washington north of us.
     As the fog burned off, the smoke stayed right here with us, making the air quite toxic, (See the Purple Air map below)
     At the moment, we don't have a plan, exactly.
     But by late Saturday we expect to decide whether to activate Operation Red Writer Evac and quickly skitter to the east, into Nevada and maybe other Southwestern states where the air is fresh.
     For now, The Red Writer is parked safely right outside our condo, gathering falling ash on it while we make up our minds whether it's best to fight the smoke or take flight. Biscuit is ambivalent about it, provided he gets to chase squirrels. (See photo below).

View of San Francisco Bay at 7:30 a.m.

AIR QUALITY MAP: The purple essentially means, don't go outside

Ready to roll out of the smoke

Biscuit and the squirrel have a love-hate relationship - mostly hate...

Sailing through the decades, starting with a 'Banshee' sailboat

   POINT RICHMOND, Calif. - On the same day as I wrote a column for the Finger Lakes Times about friendships across the decades, an intriguing message arrived via Facebook from a shirttail relative.
     How shirttail?
     She is the great-granddaughter of my late cousin Barbara Puls. I don't have enough graph paper to draw out how we are related. So Mary Emily and I just call each other cousin - just like my many Mexicano friends do in Arroyo Seco, Mexico.

Rigging the Banshee for  Chautauqua Lake

     Mary Emily contacted me because she wondered if I could give her some information about a sailboat her grandmother said had once belonged to me.
     It certainly did - in 1968.
     1968. Jaysus!
   In the decades between, the sailboat, called a Banshee and manufactured by MFG boats in Union City, PA had passed from me to my Uncle Gordy and Aunt Ethel Puls (Mary Emily's great-great grandparents). Then it became the responsibility of my late cousin Barbara and down through her side of the family chain, ending up with Mary Emily.
     Mary Emily said she and her father were resuscitating the Banshee to get it back on the water.

     Talk about a memory jolt!

     I had so many flashbacks of sailing the Banshee on Chautauqua Lake that I couldn't write them down fast enough.
     (Don't worry, I won't relate them all here.)
     But seeing the boat being used again - and in amazingly good shape - has filled my heart in ways that are impossible to describe.
   My mother, Evelyn F. Fitzgerald Sr., bought the Banshee for me not long after I started college. We traded in the family's sporty ski boat (an MFG 14-footer with a 50 hp Mercury) to get the sailboat. Then I cruised Chautauqua as much as I could, dreaming of going to far distant places. A sunny afternoon, the Banshee loaded with a cooler of beer (and potato chips, of course) made it seem like I had a much bigger vessel under my command.
     My mom, as was her standard operating procedure, nervously looked the other way when I took off on days that were simply just way too windy for the small boat. But because I did go out when no one in their right mind should have, I learned about wind, waves and that a boat will take care of you, if you treat it properly.
    The Banshee stayed in New York when I moved to California in August of 1970.
   But within a few years in Petaluma, Calif. I bought an eight-foot wooden El Toro style sailboat dubbed The Guppy. My son Jason Fitzgerald and I sailed that all over, some times bailing as we went when the Guppy's fiberglassed seams would leak. After owning a mahogany cabin cruiser for a couple of years I sold it and went back to sailing for good.
     Over the next two decades I owned a 14-foot Lido sailboat, followed by a 17-foot O'Day Daysailer, then a 26-foot Windrose sloop, a 40-foot Swift ketch and finally the queen of the fleet, a custom 48-foot Maple Leaf sloop.
     The Maple Leaf - named Sabbatical (as was its predecessor the 40-foot Swift ketch) - fulfilled the cruising dreams launched by the Banshee. Admiral Fox and I set sail from San Francisco Bay and meandered as far south as Zihuatenejo, Mexico, stopping in many dozens of ports and anchorages for more than six years.
    The Banshee, piloted now by Mary Emily. was never given a proper name. It was just the Banshee. It was apropos because that's how fast the boat is. It's goes like a bloody Banshee, even in relatively light winds
     But I'll bet my cousin Mary Emily will figure out a great moniker. Or maybe she will just keep with the Banshee. It is a historic vessel, after all.
     For me I'm thrilled - just thrilled - that my first sailboat sails on. And that my cousin has taken the helm.

The Banshee sails again

The Banshee on her maiden voyage under command of Capt. Mary Emily

Sabbatical leaves San Diego on the way to Mexico