Chapter 1 

I liked to believe that the narrative of a life was long and straight with some order to it. But in Berkeley it was a geometric shape containing chaos. The men and women I met had common worries but they were also looking for experience and throwing themselves into some pell mell situation not caring one way or the other about the outcome.

I was concerned about outcomes but then who was I? I was simply another sinner bounding up and down in the chaotic box understanding very little of what was going on but fascinated by the next little encounter I had.

I was snatched one afternoon by a man I had gotten to know through Ull and his girlfriend. They had a bock down at Jack London Square in Oakland and we went there on a Tuesday afternoon. The boat was about 22feet long and we spent a long time putting the batons in the sails and preparing everything. She was a pretty woman. He always seemed to have pretty women with him. You didn't see many pretty women in Berkeley and I thought she was from San Francisco or out in the suburbs somewhere. A nice, pretty woman.

So, we pushed off and motored out to the mouth of the harbor and swung into action. We cinched the mainsail up and caught a gust and down we went through the Estuary to the Bay.

Billy held the tiller and Sandra sat next to him while I was at the side winches waiting to turn about. Billy was one anchor for me who always made me feel as though I were part of something larger than myself. Sometimes it was the destiny of the world, sometimes it was the ability to enjoy life better than anyone else; that seemed to be a thing of pride for him. He did the normal things like playing golf and tennis, hanging out in good restaurants, working good jobs and always saw me as a case of sorts. "What have you been doing to yourself of late?" I always caught his concern and it made its zing before leaving me cold. He was like family in a way and we would banter back and forth trying to impress the pretty women he had with him. One fall he took me and another pretty woman to a football game in San Francisco and after he bought a bottle of champagne and drank the champagne from Seal Beach to Fisherman’s Wharf sitting on the sidewalk drinking the champagne. Then we'd end up in a famous restaurant where the waiters would all know we were drunk and laugh and had the art of subduing young drunken people.

We sailed out of the mouth of the estuary and into the Bay, everything taught and skimming along with a good wind. The shadow of the Bay Bridge made the water green and glass like and under it, the bridge, was the electric thrum of cars and busses hustling across the bay. I loved that moment. Then the boat was on the other side of the shadow and we headed for Angel Island.

Billy tried to teach me the finer points of sailing but I never got it. The wind was a tricky master out on the Bay. But the most difficult thing to do out on the Bay was relieve oneself. We used an old coke can with the top cut off. "Don't look," the captain would say as sometimes there were four or five people on board. Then you poured the stuff out into the Bay and dragged the can in the water to clean it out for the next person. As far as I know no one looked. Everyone had the same nature. There was nothing to see.

I always enjoyed my moments out on the water. After a few hours we'd head back to the estuary, against the wind so put up the jib, and meandered up to the berth. We hardly did anything but at the end of it I was exhausted for some reason. We washed the deck and put the sails away and left the docks and that was that. Often enough one of my guys would be waiting for me in front of the apartment and I would have to shake off the effects of sailing and all the goofy conversations I had on the boat and tune in. That was a skill I learned early on; switching from one circumstance to another in a flash of light. To forget what one had been in and fully engage in what one was in.

David Eide
January 24, 2014