
Ayala Cove is steeped in history. 
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Throughout my young life, I'd read stories of the South Pacific, and the image of the cove was always in my mind. 
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Pictures of the Galapagos, Tahiti, Hawaii, Pitcairn, 
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the Bounty 
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pages of a log book 
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the wooded slopes of Angel Island as a back drop to a cove defined to the west by a rocky outcrop. 
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The fog spilling over the ridge. The polite, genteel civilization in the form of Belvedere . . . just . . . over . . . there.
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The stories from my grandfather's life, and the image of the cove as seen from the teak deck of a schooner. 
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They merge in my memory.
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They fuel my imagination
 
 
 

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