So having left it too late to book a flight from Las Vegas to the floor of the Grand Canyon, my family thought I deserved consoling. Though they cast the usual looks that non-aviators exchange when an aeroplane ride is suggested, they kept quiet and I booked a ride around San Francisco Bay in a floatplane for Sunday afternoon.

Friday: San Francisco was encased in fog.

Saturday: San Francisco was encased in fog.

Sunday: I'm woken up by a shaft of sunshine slipping through the curtains. Out of bed, clothes on, round the block: clear blue sky, but fog over the Golden Gate Bridge. It better bloody stay there...

Afternoon comes and the fog is creeping over the bridge, but that's all. A quick phone call to the airbase (airfield? hmmm...) and the show's on. Across the bridge in the Chrysler Elephant and rats! I can't find the place. Another phone call - turned of 101 too soon, back on the highway and it's obvious, you can see the planes from the road. "Is there a front seat?", "Yes, as your the first to ask you can have it", "Whoohoo!".

So in we get. The Beaver is untied (!!) and we taxi across to the water to turn back into wind. Our pilot announces he his mostly deaf! Into wind, full power, and in a short space the Beaver is out of the water. We cruise around the Bay at 800 ft, steep turn to check on his friend's boat that appears to be drifting, and then over to the bridge, the City, the Bay Bridge, Treasure Island, Alcatraz, Angel Island and back on to the water. On the clock it was brief, no more than half-an-hour, but it was great fun. Look out for hangers on Treasure Island. This is were Pan-Am used to run their flying boats from in the '40's.

So thanks to all at Commodore Seaplanes, especially the lady on reception who directed us to a great restaurant in Tiburon. As for the Beaver - "Want one!".