"Off to our left, in the distance across the bay, stood what would have usually been the stunning skyline of San Francisco flickering in crisp January moonlight. But lately, after each sunset, that skyline had taken on an eerie metamorphosis. It would take the form of a gigantic collage of shattered masts and flailing sails. The ghostly hull was that of an old battered whaler struggling to remain afloat, yet, heading out to sea. A reflection on the...