Rowing To Nowhere. Just Another Saturday On The Bay.

There was no wind, until there was.
When I wear my sculler's hat I hate the wind. I want flat and glassy.



You can call me Al!
That's Alcatraz downwind. Rowing is a backwards affair, I was rowing away from, not to Al Capone's retirement home.



What the hell? Thar be Lasers here!
I just can't seem to get away from these insidious boats.



There's nothing like a Folkboat. What a joy to sail!
Of course, if they are sailing there must be wind on my back.
Sure enough the swell started to lap over my gunwales filling my shell with water. So exit stage left back to East Beach. Just another Saturday on the bay.

sidenote: It's not easy taking photos from a rowing shell. I had to stop, hold the oars in place with one hand and take photos with the other.

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