Twas the spot by the Bay bridge, where the still airs sit,
Not a boat was sailing, not even one bit.
Our sails were set on the spars with care,
In hopes that big winds soon would be there.

Crew sat in the cold, “please sunshine” they said,
While visions of trade winds danced in their heads.
And Skipper drinking coffee, while I scooted inside,
We settled into drifting, along with the tide.

When out on the water there arose such a vision,
A trio of America’s Cup boats might drift to collision.
Jumping on the rail, I watched and waited,
With the camera I wondered, how could they be baited.

The sun peeking through the clouds and mist,
Gave the hope of warm winds to the sailboats adrift.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But now the Oracle boat was coming quite near!

With an agile crew, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, my shutter must click.
More rapid than eagles on the winches they ground,
Turning on a dime, for me they were bound!

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the air,
The clacking and banging of their efforts right here.
As I put down the camera, and was turning to stare,
Close by they glided like the water was air.

I realized right then the sight THEY looked on,
Our lovely old schooner, with gaff sail bent on,
Her varnished combings gleaming, and bronze we don’t lack,
Her long bowsprit way forward, and her boomkin out back.

Us dressed in old woolies, our own style was clear,
They clad in helmet headsets, and the most modern gear,
Our schooner built for oceans: the seas and the gales,
Theirs for skimming Bay waters: with a wing not sails.

As we spoke not a word, but smiled as we passed,
The winds picked up, finally at last,
With this fine AC team, we parted ways,
Thinking fair winds to all who sail San Francisco Bay.

The Oracle Team

The Skipper Drinking Coffee