Powerless

Drawing while listening to a US History audiobook, in the heat

We’ve been without AC (alternating current) power aboard since Saturday evening. It sounds a bit worse than it is, as we are only missing power to the induction stove, microwave, air conditioning and heating, clothes washer, power outlets, and horror of horrors, WiFi. We still have the DC (direct current) working though, which controls all the devices that we use more frequently, and would typically need when not connected to shore power. Those are things like the refrigerator and freezer, fans, toilets, water pumps, and USB plugs. That’s good news.

At first we thought the AC issue would be resolved quickly, so we planned to go out sailing in Bahia de Todos Santos the next day. The conditions were superb, and the sail was quite pleasant. We hardly thought of the power issue while we were out.

However, James’ later troubleshooting revealed confusing results and another day went by. We continued to request help from the marina to rule out their power supply, and for 3 days there was one issue after another preventing them from helping with the troubleshooting. Twice I caught a dock worker and roped him into a conversation about it, but all he could do was call for the experts who were already gone for the day.

The One Thing

Cables strewn inside and out

I wasn’t able to cook, as our induction stove, instant pot, and convection oven all run on AC. Having to eat at restaurants all the time isn’t all bad though. We considered using our solar oven for cooking breakfast yesterday, but the clouds changed our plans. Then we realized that we could string an extension cord to the power tower and at least have access to one AC-powered item at a time. WiFi was first on the list. Our conversations often included things like, “No, we don’t have WiFi now since the blender is the One Thing”, “Use the WiFi while you can – it’s now the One Thing”, and “I’m going to make the Instant Pot the One Thing for about 35 minutes.”

It worked out okay like that for a while, until we found a power strip, tripling our AC power access, and tripping us when we tried to move about. Adding to that mess, with each power solution we tested the boat’s horizontal surfaces collected more and more tools and parts, while cupboards and cushions were dislodged, as if the inside were hit by a storm.

Hurricane Kay

Hurricane Kay is impacting land as I write, at the bottom of Baja California, and is expected to travel north along the coast losing momentum and dissipating to become a tropical storm when it arrives in Ensenada. The impact here will only be some stronger winds and rain. Since the area isn’t used to getting much rain, floods are expected.

Preparing for this, I took a mental inventory of our food/meal situation. We have months of food aboard so that isn’t an issue, but cooking it could be if the marina’s power is impacted by the storm. Usually that wouldn’t be the case, but we shouldn’t expect to have use of the One Thing (or Triple Thing) during or immediately after the storm. This reduces us to BBQ and solar oven as cooking options that are not ideal since they are both outside, or using the propane oven which will heat up our living space. So, we plan on eating salads and charcuterie for the next few days!

Though Kay will be a tropical storm when she arrives, she won’t be packing more of a punch than the typical squalls in the Caribbean. Our boat is built to withstand much more severe weather, so we have no concerns about weathering the coming storm.

When I first moved to a marina in the San Francisco Bay, there weren’t a lot of birds that I wasn’t already familiar with from my old stomping grounds of Denver. I’d come to call sea gulls that were inland “trash gulls” as they serve as scavengers whether they are at the coast or not. Pigeons were of course a common sight, and crows, ravens, ducks, geese, and hawks were seen frequently.

Male bufflehead

But when I stopped focusing on getting rid of stuff and the rest of the transition to living in a marina, I noticed that the avian fauna had increased significantly. Had I just not noticed or had it been less in the summertime? Probably the former. There were all sorts of birds that I couldn’t identify, so I researched to find out who my new neighbors were: great blue herons, night herons, great egrets, snowy egrets, Clark’s grebes, lesser scaups, buffleheads (one of my personal favorites), sandpipers, coots, brown pelicans, murres, Forster’s terns, and cormorants.

Great egret, 2 great blue herons, and lots of coots

I’d seen cormorants at the City Park in Denver, all sitting up on the branches on an island off-limits to humans, but their behavior was so different from the ones floating and swimming in the Emeryville marina, seeming to have such a good time. At first I thought they were a different species, but after some research ended up concluding that the double-crested cormorants were just adapting to their different environments. I was enlivened by the new knowledge that filled in the picture of my new marine surroundings.

American coots on land and sea

I learned that cormorants can often be seen extending or flapping their wings on rocks or while floating on the water to dry them off, and that their flying that skips along the water is the most labored out of all water birds. I learned that the behavior of the first year juvenile California Gull we dubbed Bob is definitely out of the ordinary, with his constant and prolonged (I mean months) whimpering and pecking at the bird I assume is his mother. We can now identify him by his posture alone, but we usually don’t have to since his voice is distinct enough and detected before his visual presence is.

When we sailed down to Half Moon Bay last year, we were entertained by murre that popped down below the sea surface before we got too close. I learned that the murre can dive up to 600 feet to catch their prey, but I still can’t fathom it.

Birds of a Feather

Knowing of my interest in local birds, a marina employee suggested I volunteer for the Audubon’s Christmas Bird Count. That morning was supposed to be the coldest morning the San Francisco Bay Area had seen in 5 years, but it clearly was not, as I had seen 39 degrees on my morning walk just the previous week. The day’s temperatures stayed in the range of 42 to 45 degrees but I was prepared for the chill with my snowboarding gear including gator and gloves.

Crow near horses

They say the early bird catches the worm, and if you want to count those well-fed examples of efficiency, you should be out early as well. Though I was the youngest member of the 4-person team by over 10 years and the only person with less than 15 years of experience, I felt a kinship with my bird counting team of fellow nature lovers.

It turned out that my expanded knowledge of shorebirds since moving to Emeryville six months prior did not prepare me very well to identify the 50 species that we encountered during the Christmas count. I knew about 20 of them. They took me under their wings and shared information about how to identify and record what we were seeing, and what tools to use in the process, such as eBird and Merlin, both from Cornell.

At Thornton Beach looking south for birds

I fell into the role of spotter, saying things like, “There’s a brown smallish bird up the hill on the large bush, a little to the left,” and “I think that’s a blue jay.” My eagle eye was responsible for finding the brown pelican, merlin and orange-crowned warbler (that was actually all yellow.)

The knowledge and interests of my colleagues were very deep, but not wide. I shared information about the behavioral anomaly of Bob, and the gull expert on the team shrugged it off and changed the subject. When we saw a dog walker with 9 dogs (of course I counted, I was on a counting trip) I was curious to watch them and figure out how the human kept the unleashed dogs in sight. The others didn’t act like they even saw the dogs. When a walker with 11 dogs came around, I excitedly discussed how I thought they must have dog temperament interviews and specific selection criteria in order to make that situation work, and it became clear that the rest of my team wanted to move along to other bird-focused topics.

Great egret with snowy egret

Besides seaside locales and a shopping mall, we visited a cemetery, school, retirement home, and a park to do the counting in our assigned area. We found cowbirds in the horse corrals, great-tailed grackles in a parking lot, and hundreds of sanderlings on the beach. When we were finished with counting at our last location, the man with almost 60 years of birding experience said he was off to complete 9 other Christmas counts before the end of the year. That’s some dedication. It also helped me recognize that while I appreciate my foray into the world of birding, I will not be dedicating myself to it as a primary interest, but swooping into it when I see a particularly interesting specimen and when time allows.

Under My Wing

Right now my time allows for being outdoors and increasing the amount of exercise I get, so when I learned of The Audubon Society’s free birdwatching hikes, I figured I’d sign up for one occasionally.

Ethan taking a photo of the hummingbird on her nest

It was near the end of Ethan’s time off for winter break in January so I asked him (then when he declined, required him) to join me on a nature walk at Salesforce Park, a public urban park atop the 4^th story of the transit center connected with the Salesforce Tower, the tallest feature of the San Francisco skyline.

Twice a year for the previous eight years Ethan had chosen a unit of study to focus on at school, and a quarter of them had been related to flight: peregrine falcons, Blue Angels, paper airplanes, and engineering (with a focus on aviation) and he’s always been fond of birds, so I knew he’d eventually warm up to the idea. I’m sure that waking up early was his biggest objection, since he’s a teenager and such a night owl.

White crowned sparrow in urban park

Within a short period of time after arriving he became interested in what we were finding, and he was fascinated with the Anna’s hummingbird that flitted to and from her walnut-sized nest (see Instagram for the video). We learned that male hummingbirds don’t tend to the eggs, but we knew the bird’s gender by her coloring alone.

By the end of the event, we had exercised a bit, experienced a unique park, learned about a few species of birds, spent time outdoors, and spent time together. Next we walked a few blocks to get Mexican food that was being advertised through our olfactory receptors.

I envy birds their ability to fly and was reminded of my time hang gliding as a sport and for recreation. It was liberating to be free of the ground and pre-defined paths, to have a bird’s eye view of the landscape, and to feel like nothing was in my way. Being on the sea is a similar kind of freedom, though the realm is entirely different, definitely more wet. It represents not just the road less traveled, but the lack of a road at all, and a vast open stretch of possibilities for learning and adventure. Perhaps more than any other aspect of this new lifestyle, I enjoy the connection with nature that is so much more direct and apparent.