It seemed like a good idea to drive to Yosemite and so off we went, at great speed as we had an invitation for dinner that evening with Adam and his wife, Erin at their home near Palo Alto. Carl had driven his car up to Sausalito after a meeting in Los Angeles and it seemed like a good idea to take advantage of the opportunity and drive to Yosemite.

Top down, hair streaming in the wind, Gemma and Winston crammed in the passenger seat and reaching speeds in excess of extremely fast, we made it to the entrance to Yosemite. A national park, the daily entrance fee was twenty dollars. Not a huge sum of money but for some strange reason, one we didn't appear to have. Counting up change from the ashtray and collecting everything we had, we managed to scrape together the entry fee and on we went into the stunning park for our whirlwind tour. Arriving near Yosemite village we gazed up at Half Dome, the photography of Ansel Adams had captured the majesty of the rock face perfectly. Winston swam briefly in the Merced river, we walked among the redwoods and then the Yosemite express continued on.

We made it to Adam and Erin's house just in time for dinner, dusty and weary but refreshed quickly with good wine and conversation. Too soon, we headed back into San Francisco, across the Golden Gate and back to the boat. Exhausted.

Our Sausalito summer came to a sudden end as we realised we needed to go back to Los Angeles. With a reluctant farewell to Ian and Jen, we enjoyed a final meal together and next morning, cast off the lines and headed south, enjoying excellent sailing on the way.