Quiet Magic & Pride: Community Woodworking
By Nicole Straight, February 2026
I grew up in the Bay Area and moved to the East Coast for graduate school. We moved back after nearly three decades on the other coast. Coming back felt both sweet and slightly surreal, like returning to a place that felt familiar but utterly new.
My family and I moved to Sausalito in the middle of the COVID pandemic, when the world had gone quiet, and everything was shut down. It wasn’t exactly the return to the Bay that I had imagined; but I’ve always been drawn to service, and volunteering felt like the most natural way to connect. I found my way to Sausalito Village, our local organization supporting seniors, and quickly became part of this warm and welcoming community of people helping neighbors with rides, meals, and companionship.
Through that work, I met so many interesting, long-time residents that I started The Sausalito Project, filming short documentary interviews to capture the town’s history through the people who have lived here and made it what it is. One story led to another name, another introduction, and another afternoon spent listening. It felt like being handed pieces of a living quilt, with each person's story another beautiful thread.
One of those connections led me to Michael Weiner, who suggested I reach out to Matthew Zarem. That’s how I first walked into Spaulding Marine Center and discovered the quiet magic of the place.
The heart of the Spaulding Center.
Through that work, I met so many interesting, long-time residents that I started The Sausalito Project, filming short documentary interviews to capture the town’s history through the people who have lived here and made it what it is. One story led to another name, another introduction, and another afternoon spent listening. It felt like being handed pieces of a living quilt, with each person's story another beautiful thread.
Despite getting seasick on the water and having very little experience with tools beyond a hammer, I was immediately taken with the spirit of Spaulding. The space feels calm and purposeful—full of craft, history, and people who genuinely care about keeping both alive. I interviewed Susie Woodum, attended a wonderful talk by Michael about Myron Spaulding, and kept finding reasons to stop by. Every visit felt like stepping into a pocket of Sausalito where time slows down and hands are busy making something real.
Recently, I signed up for their two-day woodworking class, where we were told we’d leave with a cutting board. I had my doubts, but the instructors and apprentices were patient, encouraging, and so friendly. They met everyone exactly where they were, whether you’d built furniture for years or had never touched a power tool. By the end, we weren’t just a group of people; we were a small community, comparing notes, laughing at our mistakes, and quietly proud of what we’d made.
The Finished Products
What stayed with me most wasn’t the finished board, though I love it. It was the feeling of learning something new alongside other people. In a time when so much of life happens on screens, Spaulding offers something refreshingly tangible: conversation, collaboration, and the simple satisfaction of making something with your hands.
I feel lucky to live in a town where places like this exist and even luckier to be finding my way back home through the people and stories that make Sausalito what it is.
