Funeral Trend Is Away From the Funereal : Death: In the Bay Area, some are opting for the offbeat and even the upbeat in final arrangements, from sea scatterings to picnics.

The Naiad slides out of the harbor, past the seals lounging on the slips at Pier 39, past the Golden Gate Bridge waist-deep in fog.

A quarter-mile off Bonita Cove, the 60-foot yacht pauses, and the Rev. Howard Newman prepares to bid farewell to the 24 souls whose cremated remains rest in labeled black boxes.

With a puff of brownish-red dust, the ashes go over the side, followed by a handful of brightly colored flowers that bob cheerfully on the surging waves.

It’s another funeral with that special Northern California touch: upbeat, sometimes offbeat and rarely funereal.

From sea scatterings to picnics to a wine tasting where a life-sized poster of the deceased greeted guests, funerals are becoming more a celebration of the living than a mournful cry for the dead, say organizers of alternative requiems.

“I love this job,” says Tom Simonson, president of the Neptune Society of Northern California, which conducts weekly scatterings at sea and also owns the Columbarium, a three-story turn-of-the-century building that holds more than 8,000 cremated remains.

“Having spent 16-plus years in the traditional side of the business, I really am very happy on this side because it’s so consumer-oriented.”

At the Columbarium, 35-year-old manager Joe Biernacki calls his duties “an incredible fun job” that has included everything from arranging garden parties to having a wake musician auditioned by the soon-to-be-deceased.

“San Francisco is a very innovative city. Tere’s a lot of artistic people, entertainment people, and they’re a little different,” says Biernacki, a licensed funeral director.

How different?

Well, there was the man who had a float of flowers made in the shape of a golf course, in memory of his ruling passion.

Then there was the man with a terminal illness who wanted to be sure the music was just right. So, he came down to the Columbarium and held auditions.

When Arly Fong’s husband, Weyman, died recently, she knew she wanted a ceremony at the Columbarium. She and a friend got all the photographs they could find, and they made up picture-boards showing the stages of his life.

The couple had decided in advance on urn storage rather than a sea scattering, she said. “He was a golfer, and I know he wouldn’t want to go out there.”

Cremation has long been popular in land-scarce areas like San Francisco, which has no cemeteries, but other trends are of more recent vintage, such as leaving behind a videotaped goodbye to friends or family.

Robert Tabaka of Elevon, a company that produces “time capsule videos,” said business has increased since the company was founded four years ago, partly in response to a personal need.

“My partner always wanted to say something to his father and could never do it and he had to put it down in a letter,” he said. “We got to talking about it one day, and he said there’s got to be a better way than doing this by letter.”

One somber note behind the trend to specially tailored funerals is that AIDS is striking young people, giving them plenty of time to make final arrangements.

“It’s a real sad thing to deal with,” Biernacki said. “Young men, mainly, some women, walk in here and say to me, ‘I want to pick out a niche.’ I try to make it a fun experience for them. When they leave here I like them to be glad they did what they did.”

Some traditional funeral directors frown on the upbeat approach, but Biernacki said he believes “people should have the right to do what they want.”

Still, there have been some funeral requests that were a little too alternative, he said.

“I’ve had witches and warlocks who wanted to dance naked . . . you have to lay the law down,” he said.