Hiding in the Fog

I've noticed recently that it's August, and we are well beyond the time of solstice at the height of summer. Just about a week ago I went to The City, which we in California call San Francisco. It's up there to the north of us, on the coastline - like we are in Pacific Grove.

Famously, an explorer a few hundred years ago came all the way from Spain and accidentally stumbled on the huge and impressive bay to our north and he was amazed, as he had every right to be. It's complex and far reaching, essentially gathering water from all of Northern California. The ferocious currents swept his ship into the myriad inlets and curving shores, so he, arrogant and proud Spaniard that he was, claimed it for Spain and left. Back in his home country, the explorer recounted his exploits including a glowing and fantastic description of a vast inland waterway and beautiful hillsides abounding with game and plenty.

For two hundred years, no one could find the inlet again. Had it disappeared? Did it ever exist or was the original explorer full of salsa? Truly mystified, king after queen sent shiploads of Spaniards to search and explore. All came home again with sad frowns of defeat and frustration and gazed forlornly into their sangria, unable to account for the missing bay.

Finally, again by accident, another expedition leader woke up from his siesta on the poop deck, rubbed his eyes and there it was! Something like the neck of a bota bag, the narrow strait that is now spanned by our famous bridge was visible and beckoned him to come ashore, which he did, infecting all the native americans with overwhelming pestilence and plague. But, that is another story.

Our lovely summer blanket of fog had precluded further exploration after the first claim of ownership for Spain was made. It had acted as it usually does, blanketing the coastline so effectively that the entire inlet of San Francisco was obscured.

I'm not sure what the Spanish word for fog is - do you? - but I believe the left coast of the continent should have been named after it. No telling how many more years the bay would have gone unsullied by European exploration if the second Spaniard had slept just a little longer.