I am an Angeleno, who went to visit a friend in Oakland. I wanted to experience San Francisco and…read moremy friend Denise suggested this ferry because it was cheaper than an Uber, more convenient than Bart, departed on time, like impeccably on time, and thus efficient, and in a way, a vacation experience in itself. Thus, I am here writing this Yelp, to describe it as a tourist experience, not as a mode of transportation to San Francisco, which of course it is too, on the daily.
It was my first time taking the ferry so I needed instructions. Denise gave me the Clipper card, and one needed it as they enter, and as they exited. That is how the ferry people calculate the cost of the trip. Other than that, it is easy to use, and I found the staff who worked there polite and willing to explain this process to me. So unless one loses the card, then one will likely figure out the way in and out.
I have experienced fog. But fog in LA, at least for me, is not a treat of nature. It is a way that nature reminds me to drive more safe or else. Like one time, I was in the freeway, and I was about to exit, and the fog was so thick-- scary thick. I could not see the car in front of me or behind me. As a result, I stopped driving because I was not sure if I needed to stall, or drive in by inch. With hindsight, I know I should have driven inch by inch, but in the moment, my thoughts for action were processing slower than usual because they were piercing the fog of the night. My passenger told me to drive, because if I did not drive we could be hit by another car who did not expect a car in non-movement in the freeway. This was my last vivid memory of fog, being in a freeway, slightly frightened. But, thankfully, the ferry allowed me to see the fog, as lovely, and more importantly, it transported me to Maine, or Avalon, and other places known for thick mist.
As the ferry went to San Francisco, I marveled at the bay, in gray. I took care to snap pic to invite the reader to my moment in water, on boat. I saw the sun barely visible. Its own light could not shine through the blanket of gray. As a person, like I said before, who has not been around fog too much the sun looked like an alien point in the sky. I might sounding like a child whose imagination has not learned restraint, but I felt like I had traveled to foreign land and I was witnessing extraterrestrial heavenly bodies in space. Additionally, the water had no blue, it had no turquoise, it was gray, and slow, not still, just calm. The water I knew of beaches and other harbors had age. It had grown and I was visiting it not in a retirement home, not enjoying its golden years, but as it sat in a comfortable chair, resting because it was reflecting on its former youth and accomplishments. The water carried the rest of someone who grew old gracefully, basically. As I marveled at the other pictures, I heard the faint sound of a foghorn. And it did not sound obnoxious, it did not sound like melody either, do not get me wrong. It sounded like a flute making lovely boom sounds, helping me understand that I was in boat, tugging along the sea. The peace of the moment was felt in the breeze, the waters, and now in the waves that carry sound. It was a treat for all my sense, ok maybe not taste. I will not say that I tasted the sea breeze, but I could have tasted something from the snack bar.
I did take an 8 second video, to share my voyage with others. For me, it felt, like I was standing still, and seeing a gray hoop skirt dress twirl with an ombre effect. I know that sounds weird, and maybe I am not explaining myself well, and I kind of know that I said the word gray a lot, but, what I am ultimately trying to say is that I felt transported to a day where the weather was foggy and all of that enhanced my vacation to a moment worth remembering.
The most epic moment came when I was seeing out into the fog, and as the boat move, and outpace the fog, a ship crane appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere. I felt like I saw a drape made of fog pulled back revealing the ship crane. But the moment of awe came because the fog and crane remained still, it was the movement of the boat that pulled the curtain back.
I also captured the ships with big boxes (forget what they are called) in a drape of fog which was quietly beautiful in its own way. In another picture, I clipped the plank as I walked to the ship. That is the moment that I knew I was about to be in fog, but I did not expect to be addressed by the fog--- and its message was, fog does not need to blind the eye, it can give it perspective in wondrous gray scale! Enjoy me, wayward voyayer!