We overstayed our welcome in Monterey by about nine hours.  Last night was a little rock ‘n rolly.  We got some sleep after everything that could fall on the floor fell on the floor, then got up at 3:30 IN THE MORNING and left.  Very pretty morning.  No waves, no swell.

We used every sail on the 90 mile trip down, but ultimately the wind slowed too much and we motored into the bay right about 5 pm, with plenty of time to anchor and only two other boats in the anchorage.  It was a lot of fun to fly the asym spinnaker in 15 knots of wind, but not fun to fly it in 10 knots of wind with the occasional six-foot wave that would deflate the kite and help it wrap around the forestay.  It is entirely possible that we have more to learn about the sail.

This morning, Nancy made rice in our thermal cooker.  This thing is the coolest invention since fire.  Look it up, and if you have a boat or an RV, buy one (Thermos).  Once we anchored, we got out the spam and nori we got from Fred and Stacy and made mitsubi, the Hawaiian answer to the breakfast sandwich.  Sushi rice, spam, and a nori (seaweed) wrap, all bundled in Saran wrap and stored away for the next voyage.

I did the wrapping because, you know, I need stuff to do.

It’s much easier than rolling sushi because it will all consolidate in the refer.

We are parked in front of the home of the late William Randolph “Terrible” Hearst.

We went through here a few years ago on an epic family road trip, so we don’t need to take the tour again, but it’s well worth a stop if you come through this region.  WR(T)H was a massive media baron with both feet and one hand in politics.  Imagine that.  He built this wacky house with non-looted (I asked) stuff from post-war Europe**.  It’s big.  It’s weird.  When things got tight later in life he started a winery that sold no wine before it’s time.  Apparently wine time is shorter than regular time.  Like dogs.

Later later in life he started an off-road car racing team to advertise his line of service stations throughout southern Nevada.  He sold no gas before it’s time.  Again, it was pretty much always time for gas.

Speaking of which, Cali is out of gas.  Apparently the time for gas in Cali was Thursday.  Don’t worry, we’re full.

**A little research shows that WR(T)H bought his fire-sale relics from an England Gentry decimated by a death tax.  Entire estates were liquidated in a single generation to pay the tax when the Peer died.  Since all the other Peers were in similar financial condition, or were saving up for a foreseen death, all the Old English relics went to America, where the government was far too young and responsible to even concieve of a death tax on it’s most successful citizens.