Federal regulations require that ash scattering occur at least three nautical miles from the nearest shoreline. For ceremonies departing from San Diego, that means clearing Point Loma — the rocky headland that separates the bay from the Pacific — and traveling into open ocean. Families sometimes wonder what that journey feels like. It is worth describing.
Departure is from Harbor Island, in the sheltered inner bay. The water here is calm and protected, and the first thirty minutes of the journey look like a harbor cruise — kelp beds to starboard, naval vessels at their moorings, the skyline visible and familiar. This is a quiet stretch, and many families gather on deck, share early remarks, or simply stand together as the shoreline slides past.
As the yacht rounds the southern tip of Point Loma, the character of the water changes. The swells come from the open Pacific — they are longer, more rhythmic, less influenced by wind and traffic. The air smells different: saltier, colder, carrying the open-ocean scent that is distinct from harbor air. The cityscape drops behind the headland. What remains ahead is water and sky.
Three nautical miles is roughly 20 to 25 minutes of motoring from Point Loma in moderate conditions. The coastline is still visible in the distance — you can see the hills of the peninsula, the cluster of buildings downtown — but it is remote. At the ceremony site, a vessel is almost entirely alone. There are no other structures, no traffic, no sounds except water, wind, and whatever the family brings.
Most families describe this transition as significant. The city receding behind the headland is a kind of threshold. What lies beyond it has room for grief, for quiet, for something that the shoreline cannot hold.