Great Expectations

Belhaven, and the River Forest Marina had come highly recommended to me. Peter had nice things to say about it. The guide book had nice things to say about it. And the marina had a full page ad in the guidebook touting it's amenities. I thought I would be relaxing in a jacuzzi, playing tennis (my racket is on the boat), and eating dinner at an extravagant smorgasbord in a Grand Southern Mansion.

I did none of these things.

I don't want to dissuade you from coming here. It is nice enough. But it's nothing to write home about. The best thing was the golf carts at the marina. You can ride them about town and to the freeway bypass where there is a grocery store, strip mall, and a couple dollar stores.

The town and marina have seen better days. Everything is just a little run down. It is not without charm. You will easily find most things you need. It just wasn't the treat I was expecting.

On a brighter note, my anchor supply is replenished. And I have a lead on new rudders.

Drivin that Train, High on Cocaine

The first twenty miles or so of my journey yesterday were in a ditch. There is nowhere to anchor in this ditch, until you reach mile 120. The ditch opens up a little there, and there are some private piers. Even there, I wouldn't anchor, unless it's an emergency. The charts show a small inlet before that, and the guidebook mentions it as a tight anchorage. I don't know how you could get anything more than a dingy or skiff into that inlet.

The drive down the ditch was uneventful except... early on a tug passed. I tried to get off to the side to let him pass. When I passed into his wake, and back into the center, my steering was seriously degraded. I checked the centerboards. They had been pushed up into the hull. They could have been pushed up by a shoal while I was off to the side, but I actually think the tug's wake pushed them up. The wake didn't look like much on the surface. There were no waves. It mas just a lot of swirls behind. But I bet it's prop was putting off a lot of force underwater.

The wind picked up over the course of the day. It was at my back, and I was tempted to put up a sail. You'll be happy to know that I waited until I was out of the ditch to do so. I motor-sailed another 5-10 miles to Belhaven.

My gas worries were unfounded. Maybe I had been leaking a lot of fuel from the fuel bowl. Maybe putting up a sail really helped. All I know is that the engine sipped gas compared to it's past fuel consumption. That's great, because I spent about $100 on fuel at the Alligator River Marina. I don't do a lot of driving on land, so I'm not used to dropping a c note at the pump. Nice to know that I won't have to do that on a daily basis.

The shore along the ditch was mostly undeveloped. But even there you can't escape the billboards.

Cooking with Capt' Scott

I'm out of fresh food. I was going to resupply while getting gas in the Outer Banks. But as you remember, I got a ride from a passerby to the gas station and back. I did not want to impose on the guy's generosity by asking him to wait while I went grocery shopping. I figured I would be able to stock up at the Alligator Marina. I was wrong. Although they had the space and refrigeration to stock fresh food, they did not. All they had was an array of sodas and beer, as well as canned and prepared foods. They did have a stack of eggs in the grill display case, but they would not sell any of them to me.

Note to convenience store owners: you might want to visit a 7-11, or other national chain. I'm sure those guys have done extensive market research to decide what to stock in their stores to maximize profit. You can piggyback on this research for free by just looking at what they stock, and copying it in your store.

So anyway, I'm out of eggs, sandwich meat, cheese, etc. This morning I made a "One Pot Scott" special. Open a couple cans of vegetables. Heat the contents of the cans, including broth to boiling. Turn off heat. Add vegetable oil and dried milk. Stir in instant potatoes until desired consistency is obtained. Add seasoning to taste.

You can measure the ingredients if you want. I'm too lazy.

Lord of the Flies

I've been asked if I feel like I have escaped the ravages of Winter yet. Some signs that I may already have: I wore shorts, shirt and tevas while doing laundry at the marina. There were dandilion flowers in the lawn. My boat suffered an infestation of flies yesterday until I opened the hatches and shoed them away. And I had to close the hatches last night because I started getting bitten by mosquitoes.

I had a delightful motor-sail up the river yesterday with the jib up. According to the gps, the jib added about a mile an hour to my speed. I throttled back the engine, and would have liked to have put up the main and turned off the engine, but I think the engine provides a lot of my steering now that I have only one working rudder. I did have some engine problems at the beginning of the day. It wouldn't start. I took the cowl off, and while cranking the engine, I noticed fuel dripping from the plastic fuel bowl. I disassembled it and found that the gasket was hard and cracked. I searched around the boat for something out of which I could fashion a replacement. I found a gasket kit for the Raritan toilet. It included a gasket with the same outer diameter as the fuel bowl gasket. So now my fuel bowl has a toilet bowl gasket.

I disassembled and cleaned the carb for good measure. What the heck, at this point I could do that with my eyes closed. I also thought the carb could had gotten clogged again and caused excess pressure to build up in the fuel bowl. Reassembled, the engine started right up. I think the ignition wiring may also have been wet. We had steady rain yesterday and some dense fog. Having the cowl off in the sun and wind may have dried it out.

I saw a dolphin tracking the boat about 30 yards off the port bow yesterday. I was pretty surprised, seeing how far I was from the ocean. No alligators though. I don't think I mentioned that I'm pretty damn sure that I saw an eagle while I was passsing through the Coinjock strait. That's pretty cool. I don't think I've ever seen an eagle in the wild before. Also spent the afternoon watching fighter jet excercises over the Alligator River Wildlife Refuge. Every twenty minutes or so, a pair of jets would pass low over the boat and execute some twists and turns over the refuge and then fly back by over the river. Quite a racket as they passed over. I hope they weren't practicing bombing runs on my boat as part of their excercises.

I'm Learning

The plan today was to head down the Alligator River to the canal. However, with head winds from the south of 15-20 knots, and winds up to 25 knots predicted tonight, I decided a better plan would be to spend the night at the Alligator River Marina. I haven't been at a marina since Norfolk. Me, my clothes and the boat are getting pretty dirty and stinky. Time for a shower, laundry and power wash. The marina is very basic, just how Peter described it in the comments. It's nothing more than a gas station (for cars and boats), with a laundry and showers.

Unfortunately, the restaurant is closed. But they do have a little grill. The cheeseburger was one of the best I remember having in a long time. The burger didn't look like it was a prefab patty, and I had it with all the toppings they had, and extra mayo. It was a greasy mess. mmmmmm. The fries were actually potato wedges. They came out of the fryer piping hot. I burnt my tongue on the first one before I let them cool down.

I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep in the marina, while the wind howls out on the river. Tomorrow the winds are supposed to be at my back 10-15 knots and diminishing in the evening. Don't tell anyone, but I might put up a sail, if the wind is right. I have about 50 miles to go until the next services. The last stretch of that is in a long skinny canal, with lots of traffic. I have about 30 gallons of gas on board, which should be plenty. But I'm extra careful after the bad fuel experience. It'd be a great blog post if I ran out of gas in the canal, but I'm hoping to forgo that.

Too Cute

Woke up this morning and headed over to a public boat ramp in Kitty Hawk Bay. There are no services on the water here. The depths are bad and there are no boats besides skiffs here. I was running low on all sorts of things, the most important being gas. My plan was to walk about a mile or so to a gas station I saw the other day while stocking up for a Thanksgiving meal. I took two gas tanks off the boat. I was going to put a few gallons in each one and bring them back to the boat. They are too heavy to carry full that distance. I knew I might have to do the trip a couple times to get enough gas.

Anyway, I walk out of the parking lot of the boat ramp and get about 20 feet before a car passes, stops and backs up. The driver asks me if I need a ride. I was in heaven. I got a ride to the gas station and back. A task that I figured might take me a couple hours, was completed in twenty minutes.

This mirrors my experience on Thanksgiving day. I did walk all the way to the grocery store, but as I left the parking lot with my bags, I stuck out my thumb and the first guy to pass me, picked me up. Nice folks in Kitty Hawk.

What you might not know about me, is that when I was in college, I did quite a lot of hitch-hiking. I've hitch-hiked the entire length of the eastern seaboard, from the northern tip of Nova Scotia to Key West. Also hitch-hiked from DC to school in Michigan, and back a few times. That was at the tail end of when you could hitch-hike. I think I was only able to do it because I looked young, clean-cut and had a backpack with me.

I'm doing a similar adventure now, only instead of riding in strangers' cars, I'm mostly riding in my boat.

The motor to Alligator River was uneventful except... I tried to take a shortcut. I got too cute. I saw an inlet on the charts and on Google maps where it looked like I might be able to cut into a creek and take a few miles off the day's trip. If you go to nautig, I've uploaded the days track, and you can see where I tried to enter. It was at high tide, and I thought I could do it. I was wrong. I ran hard aground. I decided to get in my kayak and explore the inlet to see if there was a channel anywhere in there. There was not. I could have put my rubber boots on and walked across the inlet to the other side, but there was no way I was bringing the boat with me. The bottom was sand. Unlike the Chesapeake where it's mostly mud, there was no way I could force the boat across. Anyway, I fired up the motor and backed off the sand and out the inlet.

Before I started this trip, I was talking to an old coot about it. He wanted to know all about the boat. When I told him the engine I had, his response was that it was too powerful. Too Powerful!?! That's like saying someone is too good looking, has too much smarts, or money. Is there such a thing? I thank my too powerful engine for easily getting me off the sandbar this morning.

Of course, the guy also had tons of advice he wanted to give. The advice came with a large dose of descriptions of what an accomplished sailor he is... How he'd go out sailing when the weather was getting rough and everyone else was coming in. And how he didn't even need a motor. He could sail his boat into the slip without one.

I don't want to pollute my blog with such rubbish. Yah, I could go on and on about what a great sailor I am, and I could leave out the trials and tribulations I've faced while sailing. But how interesting would that be? I think it's a lot more interesting, informative, and funny to hear about how I've lost three anchors in the space of a month. If you get tired of that, I can always lie. You're not on the boat. How would you know?

You Rock!

Thank you for hooking me up with tunes for the road. It makes all the difference when I'm spending hour after hour motoring. I might have to put a sidebar with "Currently Playing".

The Repairs Continue

I think I mentioned in an earlier post that the swim ladder had partially torn away from the hull. On the left of the picture are the nuts, bolts and washers which held one of the two swim ladder brackets to the hull. Even I, as a layman, can see that this is pretty pathetic hardware. I think the only reason this didn't break years ago, is simply that this boat rarely, if ever left the dock.

On the right is the mending strap with which I reinforced the hardware on the inside of the hull. I have a whole box of these things which I thought I might use to repair the rudder. Instead, I think I'm going to be using them throughout the boat. When I was in the hull doing the repair, I noticed lots more of these bolts coming through the hull. Apparently, just about everything connected to the boat is connected with similar sized bolts. INCLUDING THE MAST STAYS! The rudder breaking was about as much excitement as I can take. How exciting would it be if I were dismasted in a storm. I don't know what the folks at PCI were smoking in the 80s when this boat was built, but it must have been the stickiest of the icky wicky.

I'm leaving the beach this morning to head down the Alligator river. Verizon's coverage looks spotty and slow in this area. If you don't hear much from me the next few days, don't worry, I'm fine. No, I have not been eaten by an alligator. While I motor across the remaining part of Albemarle sound in what, according to the NWS, are to be five knot winds, I'll be thanking God that I'm not nearly as much of an asshat as this clown

Boyfriend Tracker 1.1 Released

This post was written yesterday, but delayed until BFT 1.1 was ready. Please let me know of additional bugs that need to be fixed. Beautiful moon last night.

I told Amy before I left that she would be able to track my trip progress on NautiG. It'd be like she had a lowjack on me! Unfortunately, with all the adventures I've been having, I haven't had time to work out the bugs in BFT 1.0. While at anchor here, I've had some time, and I've worked out most of the major bugs. If you go to NautiG, and press the "Track" menu button, my day's course will be displayed on the map. Use the forward and back buttons to progress through the trip. There is some missing data. Sorry. If you see a straight line, that is a period when my gps was off for some reason. Probably my vista laptop had crashed.

At the risk of worrying some, and confirming to others their suspicions that I am indeed a moron, I'm going to tell you anyway... I've lost two anchors to the sea gods in a span of less than twelve hours. Fortunately, I had three anchors aboard, but I'm down to a pathetic little thing that grandpa had in his garage. It seems to be holding, and the winds are supposed to calm over the course of the day. And before you get your panties all up in a bunch, there is a plan B,C and D etc... I'm in an inlet, not out at sea.

I don't know why these things keeps happening. I never lost an anchor when I had the Pearson. Now, for those of you keeping score at home, I've lost three anchors in the course of about a month.

Last night there were gale warnings. I moved the boat just behind a grove of trees on shore that was blocking the wind. At about 11 pm I was awoken by the wind. It's direction had flipped 180 degrees, and was howling. It didn't stop all night. Needless to say, I did not sleep well.

When I weighed anchor this morning, the secondary anchor was missing. The line and anchor "poof" disappeared. I only tossed it out as a safety, in case the primary failed. It had plenty of slack line, and little if any tension should have been put on it over the night. It was connected to a cleat with a standard hitch.

I motored over to a quieter anchorage this morning. After a few minutes at anchor here, I noticed that I was drifting. I weighed anchor, but there was no anchor to weigh.

I can't say that I wasn't warned about the anchors. I think it was Maryanne who told me that I should have two connections to each anchor. I guess I'm just a slow learner. Off to the anchor store tomorrow, once the weather calms down. I'll make sure to have two connections to each new anchor, and check them every time I use them.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Wish you were here.

The Illustrious Dad, Dr. Dick

I asked my dad to occasionally guest blog, and add his perspective of my journey to the blog. I think you'll love him. I certainly do.

(I hope you notice the symmetry of this introduction to that of an earlier introduction. Happy Thanksgiving!)


BACK TO THE BEGINNINGS

How does one get to be a sailing nut? Well, Scott comes by it honestly. It started with his dad taking sailing lessons on a mountain lake near State College, PA when Scott was just a tyke. His dad was hooked on sailing after a sail in Boston harbor with an Army buddy in a Snipe, the weekend of his buddy’s wedding.



You can see Scott here with his first sailboat (a wooden Sailfish) with his parents. Unfortunately he did not get a lot of sailing time in this in Florida, where we had moved. It leaked and became sluggish in the water. He later got a fiberglass Sailfish and sailed it on the Potomac, but Dad burned that one up (another story, best forgot).

Contributing to necessary skills for a sailor, his dad made sure he knew how to swim after a scary incident. At about eighteen months old he was walking along the edge of a Florida water-filled sinkhole behind his parents. This was a spot where scuba divers like to do underwater cave exploring. When his parents looked behind they did not see Scott. Running back about fifty feet, we found him under about a foot of water, on his back looking up, holding his breath with puffed cheeks. That started a regimen of getting him to jump into the pool and paddling out increasing distances to me. This paid off later as a teenager in the Washington suburbs, when he was on neighborhood and high school swim teams and piled up an impressive stack of trophies. This will be a fall back capability if his boat sinks!



After his parents took sailing lessons at the Annapolis Sailing School, they bought a Rainbow, a 24 foot boat that the midshipmen at the Naval Academy learned on. During his formative years we spent many a day on the Chesapeake near the Rhode River sailing, swimming, and crabbing. Because it had a 4 foot keel, we also spent lots of time getting off being grounded. With a keel boat, they say that if you haven’t grounded in the Chesapeake, you haven’t sailed the Chesapeake. Maybe that is why he enjoys his catamaran so much and brags about not being grounded.



Later when he was on his own, he bought a sailboat with some friends in the Baltimore area. On a few sailing trips that he invited us on near Baltimore, we brought one of our dogs along. On the first sail, just a few hundred yards from the dock, Sho-me the dog, decided he would like to investigate something off the beam, but didn’t realize the footing wasn’t so great. So dad leaped in to save him.(ed. note: Another great story, to be told on the blog, later...) Here he is with Scott, later in the sail when we were anchored off an island, ready to climb back on board after exploring the island. Sho-Me still looks a little uncertain about it all. I think he enjoys visiting the Wharf Rat Brew Pub near Scott’s house a lot more than sailing.

Scott tells me he is retired now. I’m still working, nearing 70. My friends tell me something is wrong with this picture, but I’m thinking it’s me, not Scott. I really envy him his trip. Good sailing!!!

It's 70 and Sunny

I've decided to spend Thanksgiving at the beach. The Outer Banks are just off the ICW. As a happy byproduct of this decision, I'll avoid most of the dreaded Albemarle sound crossing. Although, the weather is supposed to be beautiful today, so I don't think the crossing would have been too bad.

I'll probably spend a few days at the beach. I'm in North Carolina now. I feel like I've actually accomplished something by getting here. I'm starting to believe that I might make it to Florida by January.

There's a long stream of boats traveling South here. I'm very impressed with the etiquette of the power boaters. They zoom up behind you and then power down while passing. Then they zoom up to the next sailboat down the line. The wake still bounces you up and down, but it's not as bad as it could have been. I wish the power boaters in Baltimore were as considerate.

I might do some surfing this weekend, if I can find a reasonably priced wet suit.

If you are traveling this weekend, please be safe. There's bumper to bumper traffic on the icw, and the waves can get wicked crossing the Albemarle sound.

I Helped Someone!

That's right. Unlike most of my other posts, this one is not about how something broke on the boat, or some bone-headed thing I did, and how some complete stranger helped me fix the problem I created. This post is about how I helped Leon and Kim get their boat free from being hard aground. Leon fashioned a harness which he connected to his mast halyard and with the harness attached to my boat, I heeled them over and they pulled themselves off with their anchor winch.

Although as Amy pointed out in an email:

Me:

I think it's my fault (they're aground). I was ahead of them. We had talked about where to anchor. I pulled in and saw that the depths were not good. I should have called them, and would have, but they arrived more quickly than expected. I tried to tow them off, but they are hard aground. I've already forgotten what a pain in the ass that is in a monohull.

Amy:

oh that stinks. Now that you're not in a boat that goes aground, you're making other people do it!


Their boat is beautiful. They bought it three years ago, and immediately hauled it out of the water to work on it. Supposedly, most everything on the boat had been in fairly decent condition, but they ended up replacing most of it anyway. It's incredible inside. At dinner last night, I felt like I was at a tiny bed and breakfast. Leon did the woodwork in the boat himself, and it's really nice. Kim did the upholstery. They have a little stove that puts off a lot of heat, and looks like a miniature wood stove with flames dancing inside, but I forget what it actually runs on. There's nothing more you might wish for on their boat, except maybe a shoal draft.

Their boat puts my boat to shame. But there is an old saw that a captain goes asea in the boat he has, not the boat he wishes for. I'm on this trip almost on a lark. Yah, I had been dreaming about it for years. And I was a hair away from doing it a couple years ago, but if you asked me in June what my plans for the Winter were, I would not have responded that I was going to the Bahamas in a sailboat.

I've been looking at Gemini catamarans for a few years now. I forget when or how they first caught my eye. I saw this boat online about a year ago. It caught my eye because of the price. It was priced at the low end for Geminis, but reasonably for a classic Gem. As the months passed, the boat remained for sale, and the price dropped. Finally this Summer, the price dropped to an unheard of level for a Gemini. I knew that it had to sell now, regardless of the boat condition. I had a heart to heart talk with myself. Was I serious about this dream of the Bahamas, or was I just a poser? I called the number listed for the boat and set up an appointment to see it.

When I inspected the boat, I knew immediately why it hadn't sold. It hadn't even left the dock in at least five years. The steering was frozen, and who knew whether the engine would run. The owner wouldn't let me try to start it. The headliner inside was falling down, and the interior was decorated like your grandma's house. Nonetheless, it was a Gemini, and had good bones. I knew there wasn't anything on the boat that I am not capable of dealing with, or learning how to deal with. I made the owner an offer with a further reduction to the unheard of price. I told her that I would pay cash for the boat, "as is, where is", without a professional inspection or demand that anything be fixed. I think she had just reached a level of frustration with trying to sell the boat, and she immediately accepted the offer.

There's another old saw, that it's easy to buy a boat, but difficult to sell a boat. I think that's because of sellers' unreasonable expectations of price. The owner has usually loved the boat and put a lot of time and money into it. The owner expects to recoup a lot of that money at sale. Well, that's unlikely to happen. The number of people looking to buy a boat at any one time is small, and the number of boats for sale is much larger.

I have dreams of fixing up this boat, like I fixed up my house. I bought both of them very cheaply, from frustrated owners, and they both had good bones when I bought them. Unfortunately, I'm getting the feeling that the experience with the boat is going to be more like my experience with my old pickup. I've basically driven my pickup into the ground. It still runs, and is sitting in grampa's backyard during the trip. I'd get rid of it, if anything significant broke on it, like the clutch or engine. But everything that breaks seems to cost me about fifteen dollars for the part, and is something I can fix myself.

I think there may be a lesson in this post for people trying to sell their house in this crummy market. You might want to price your house reasonably. Otherwise, it probably won't sell for months, and it will be for a price a lot lower than you would have gotten had you priced reasonably to begin with. And it will sell to a douche bag like me. But I thank you for it.

OK, off to fix the swim ladder which tore away from the hull yesterday.

Great Bridge Lock

Entering the lock

In the lock

Sailboat follows in

Everyone in

Facing forward

Out of the lock, bridge just beyond

Let the tug pass first


The lock was fun, but I'm not sure of it's purpose. It only raised us a few inches, if anything. Maybe it does more under different weather conditions. There is a drought now. The Dismal Swamp route is closed. It's supposed to be a prettier route. I'm on the Virginia Cut.

The lock tenders call you Cap'n, which is fun. "Cap'n tie up here. Cap'n start your engine." You can tie up beyond the lock, before or after the bridge. The road over the bridge is lined with ugly strip malls. Lots of chain stores and restaurants within easy walking distance. I had lunch at Wendy's. The 99 cent cheeseburger deluxe is delicious. There were actually real, identifiable vegetables as toppings, unlike McDonald's. I don't know why I always go to McDonald's. The fries were underwhelming, though.

Spent the day starting and stopping while waiting for bridges which only open hourly. At the second to last bridge, there was a guy in a sailboat waving to me. I wasn't sure why he was waving, but it clicked in my head later that it might be Ron, a guy from my marina in Baltimore who is making the trip. I had heard a call on the radio earlier to a sailboat Gypsy. Gypsy is a boat owned by a young couple from Maryland, also making the trip. But I've already encountered a few boats named Gypsy.

Sure enough, at the last bridge, the couple pulled up (my boat is pretty fast under motor, and I got to the bridges more quickly than others). Everyone switched to another channel and we caught up on recent goings ons, and made dinner plans. Dinner was delicious. Indian curry and basmati rice. But the couple is hard aground about 50 yards off my stern. I think it's my fault. I got to the anchorage first and saw that the depths weren't great. I was going to call them, but they got here quicker than I expected. They draw six feet. I recommend to anyone doing this trip, to do so in a shoal draft boat.

I tried to pull them off last night. I've already forgotten what a pain in the ass it is to be aground in a monohull. My depth meter often goes to zero, or just registers nonsense, when I'm in an anchorage. At first, I thought the meter wasn't working correctly. But I've been in some clear water, and I can look down and see the bottom, and a thin line which my centerboards are carving through the mud. I could drive this boat in a puddle, and not get stuck. Anyway, we'll try again this morning. We'll tie a line to their mast, and see if I can't heel them over and pull them off.

Bad Gas

So, I had lunch at this Mexican joint the other day, and later that night... Wait. This post isn't about that, it's about the bad gas my boat had today. But let's start from the beginning.

I left Portsmouth early. The beginning of the icw is very tight and industrial. I was followed very closely by a police boat while passing some navy ships. I had to pass through a few drawbridges. One of them opened without any radio contact from me. It was as if I had said "open sesame" as I approached. Moments later I heard a call on the radio to "South bound catamaran" at such and such bridge. I answered back. It was a North bound tugboat captain. He wanted to make sure I stayed clear of him and the barge he was pushing, as we passed each other going through the bridge.

It was the thrill of my day. I got to talk to a tugboat captain! When I grow up, I want to be a tugboat captain. Anyway, make sure you closely monitor channel 13 on your radio while at the beginning of the icw.

Later, I approached the "Steel Bridge" which only opens on the hour. I had about a half hour to wait, so I dropped anchor and had some lunch. I checked the gas tank, and it was a little light, so I switched to a new tank. When it was time for the bridge to open, I started up the engine and waited. There were about six of us in line to pass through. When I got through the bridge, and about a hundred yards past, the engine died. Thank God it did not die while I was under the bridge. I put my kayak in the water, and pulled the catamaran out of the channel. I was pretty sure that the problem was the gas, seeing as how I just switched to a new tank. Sure enough, the gas in the tank was opaque and milky. I have several theories about how the gas could have gotten this way, but have not come to any conclusions.

Anyway, I drained all the gas from the fuel line, carburetor and such. It still would not start. Finally, I removed, disassembled and cleaned the carburetor. This is the third time I've done that since I've had the boat, so I'm getting pretty good at it. If anyone needs a carb rebuilt on a 40 hp Tohatsu, I'm your man.

I then said a prayer and started pulling the starting cord. After a few pulls, the engine started and ran fine. Off we went.

Anchorages

I like to leave some space between myself and the next guy when at anchorage. It's the same practice as I have driving in traffic. I don't like tailgating (although I don't leave nearly as much space as I was taught in driver's ed, way back when). The problem in both situations is that inevitably some a--hole will pull in between myself and the guy ahead of me. Such was the case last night. When I awoke this morning, I thought my anchor had slipped when I saw the guy so close to me. But no, it was a new boat. And this anchorage is huge, and mostly empty.

On the Road Again

So, I retrieved my broken rudder from the shop yesterday and left Portsmouth, I'm sure much to the consternation of my friends, family and good people of Portsmouth. Peter and Mike had found a metal shop in Norfolk which would repair my rudder. The shop is owned by a guy named Howdy, and was full of cool tools and pictures of work he had done, including lots of pictures of sailboats with metal hulls. If anyone could fabricate new rudder housings for my boat, it is this guy. Unfortunately, the estimate of time and money that he gave me to fix the rudders exceeded my budget. Mostly my time budget. The estimate was a week and a half. And the way things work around here (and the South in general), I feared a week and a half could be a lot longer.

The dream is to spend the Winter in the Bahamas. I am not spending Thanksgiving (or God forbid, Christmas) in Portsmouth.

If my rudder did not get fixed in Portsmouth, I blame no one but myself. Perhaps I wasn't honest with myself and others about my limits of patience. Anyway, I bought some fiberglass at West Marine yesterday, and will attempt a half-assed and butt ugly repair of the rudder housing. It only has to last a month and a half, and help me as I hobble down the icw under motor. I promise you that before I do any sailing, or take the boat out into any weather, I will get the rudders fixed properly. If the NWS calls for any weather, I'll just spend the day at anchor in a creek. And when I'm at a marina in Florida in January for a month, I will replace the rudders.

I spent last night at anchor, and already feel much more relaxed. I like people, but unfortunately, by nature, I'm just not a people person. I'm much more comfortable in a creek enjoying a beautiful sunset and the occasional bird call, than I am at a marina with all the socializing. I've already done a "duct tape and baling twine" repair to the steering, and it feels a lot tighter and is responding better. Even if I had no rudders, I can still steer with the engine.

I love redundancy.

The picture is of the boat at the High Street Landing. Friday night all the shops were open late to start the Christmas shopping season. Most shop owners served cider and such. There was a bell chior at the landing to greet passengers from the ferry, and city hall was decorated with lights and Christmas scenes.

Walmart v. Target

I visited the nicest Walmart I've ever seen, in Norfolk today. The cashier told me that it had only been open a few months. It was fully stocked, with a complete grocery store and the usual other stuff, only well organized and not in disarray. The roof had skylighting, so there was not the usual florescent glare. The floors were an adobe color, and not the usual scuffed linoleum.

I'm becoming a Walmart convert. It's a similar relationship to the one I have with Home Depot and Lowes. Lowes is a much nicer store to visit. Clean, orderly, and better stocked. But I have to search out and travel farther to find a Lowes. When I was working on my house, there was a Home Depot a few miles away. The Lowes was much farther. I basically would cash my weekly paycheck at Home Depot, and go home to work on the house.

Tried to visit a small hardware store I had ridden my bike to, days earlier in Norfolk. Unfortunately, it is closed on the weekends. Oh my god, the amount of money I am spending on this trip.

Feels Like Home

Spent the day in Portsmouth. I would recommend stopping here. The people are incredibly nice and helpful.I feel like I've been adopted by them as a mascot, or maybe a little brother. There are two boat basins. Tie up at the second one you encounter which is the High Street Landing. The other basin is two blocks North, and you can tie up there too. The High Street Basin has a coffee kiosk. This appears to be the meeting place for boating folks and townspeople. Betsy is the owner. She and Ben kept a sharp eye on the boat while I was out and about trying to get things fixed. I got a call from her when there was a problem with my dock lines.

The basins have signs prohibiting overnight stays. Apparently this is not enforced. The signs are there to discourage folks who think about setting up permanent residence in the basins. Also, maybe to placate the local marina owners. I'd actually prefer to stay overnight at the anchorage just North. The basin is a little bouncy with all the boat traffic, and the ferry toots it's horn as it leaves the basin. I also, in general, prefer to be at anchor.

Had dinner at the Bier Garden, a couple blocks over from the basin, on High Street. The food and beer were yummy, even if the service was a little lackluster. I was served a beer which while good, was definitely not the Pale Ale I requested. The shops on High Street peter out after a few blocks, but from their store fronts, they look eclectic and interesting. I hope I get a chance to check them out before I leave.

A big shout out and thanks to Maryanne who reads my blog, and with her husband Kyle owns another Gemini. It's brand new and pretty sweet looking. Maryanne sewed my bimini back together. Also Peter and Mike are helping me with my rudder. And another Mike helped me with my dock lines. The picture is of the little tugboat which Peter and Mike are building from scratch.

The Illustrious Professor, Dr. Amy

I asked Amy to occasionally guest blog, and add her perspective of my journey to the blog. I think you'll love her. I certainly do.


Dispatches from land:

When Scott began this blog, he suggested that (along with keeping the home fires burning) I might occasionally guest blog for him. I delayed my first installment for too long -- even though my drive home sometimes feels like I'm navigating the shipping lane at Patapsco, nothing I do seems as adventurous as his travels. So he suggested I write up a topic we've chatted about for a while: the culture of the marina.

A caveat - I am a sociologist, but I don't really study this sort of thing. More importantly, I know slightly more than nothing about boats. I can count the number of days I've spent on boats on one hand (with a thumb left over). For one of those days, a few years ago, I spent most of the time below deck, violently ill. For another one of those days, I was in a Dramamine-induced catatonia. But I did spend a handful of days reading novels on the deck of Scott's boat while he worked on it in the marina. During this time, I noticed one big thing about marina life: women are pretty much invisible there.

It's not surprising that the marina is a male space. Like sports cars, comic books and video games, boats seem to fall in the category of boy-stuff. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I do know there are exceptions. I love the PlayStation2 my brother gave me, but when I go into a game store to shop for something new, I am usually the only woman there. In the marina, men outnumber women, and we didn't come across any boats with only women owners. Even among the married couples who were living aboard, the men were out and about, and we saw the women only occasionally. But even accounting for that, initial interactions with people always struck me as strange.

The standard interaction with a new person went like this: A man from a nearby boat would walk by on the pier, and introduce himself to Scott and talk about the boat. Not a word, a nod, or even eye contact in my direction until Scott introduced me. Once introduced, the other man would say hello, maybe add a little small talk, and all was fine.

In later interactions, once I had been introduced, these were the nicest people possible, warm and generous. A couple men in particular helped Scott with a lot of repairs, shared tools and conversation, and even had us over for a barbecue.

One possibility I've suggested to Scott is that the boat is seen as a potential bachelor pad for the men. You might bring your girlfriend, your wife, your mistress, or all of the above at different times. In my mind, the other men in the marina intentionally ignore me as a way of giving him that privacy and freedom. A little like a "don't ask, don't tell" policy for the marina. Once Scott introduces me to them, he legitimizes my presence, in essence, signaling to them, "you'll be seeing her around, and it's no secret."

Cap'n Salty Dog (as I affectionately refer to him) disagrees with me. He recently wrote to me, "I think it's more that the boat is the woman. The primary relationship on the water is between the guy and the boat. It's like guys and cars, or you girls at the beach house having your nail painting party. You just aren't relevant in that environment. If anything, the woman is the third wheel."

Now that we've got an audience of boaters, I'd love to hear what others think... Comments anyone?

Post for Peter

This post is for Peter (not for you), so that he can see the damage to the rudder. He's a friend of the couple who read the blog, and whom I met last night. I'm going over to his shop tomorrow to try to fix the rudder. Man is this blogging thing paying off already.

Peter, I have a box of 20 four inch steel mending straps that I was going to use to reinforce the fiberglass. I was going to lay them across the joints and fiberglass over them. Because of the rudder design, you can not screw in the straps. But if you have a better idea, let's do it. Also, I have all the pieces of the rudder housing, except a small piece on the bottom. I'm either going to have to fabricate that piece, or just live without it for the time being.

Tossed Salad

I recently started buying salads from the supermarket salad bar when I'm out and about and hungry. They are delicious. The salad bar has a lot of other things besides salad. My old routine was to get two spicy big bites for $2 from 7-11. I'd then load them up with free chili and cheese. They are delicious too. And I sometimes still buy them. With two, I have one to eat now, and one for later. However, I don't think they are as healthy for you as the salad.

What I don't like is, when my salad gets all mixed together on the ride home.

Portsmouth over Norfolk

I've now been in both Portsmouth and Norfolk. The areas right around the waterfront in both towns are nice. But I advise against straying too far into either town. If you must, in order to reprovision, you should do so in broad daylight. There are a lot of people hanging out on the streets doing what appears to be nothing. Portsmouth has an old town area, and a cute main street with cafes and shops. It also has two small yacht basins where you can tie up for free. Overnight stays at the basins are not permitted. If you want to hang out and relax, I would choose Portsmouth over Norfolk. Norfolk has more services with an upscale grocery store and a shopping mall within walking distance of the waterfront. I stayed at the Waterside marina which costs $1.50/foot/night. They have showers, laundry and a gym. But the facilities are very basic. Ordinarily, I would have taken advantage of the gym. But I've already had quite a workout these past two weeks.

I bought the boat in July, and could tell that I had lost weight this Fall when I switched from my Summer uniform of shorts and tevas, to jeans and sneakers. The jeans which used to fit me snuggly, now were quite loose. Getting the boat in shape for the trip was a lot of work. Well, I surveyed myself this morning in the shower, and any love handles which I may have had, are now completely gone. When I'm done with this trip, if there's anything left of me, it will be muscles, skin and bone. I've also given up on shaving. It is disconcerting though, that as I near 40, a good part of my beard has turned grey.

There are quite a few attactive southern belles walking the streets of Norfolk (I'm just looking. I promise, Amy). Or maybe it's just that I've already been asea too long. Although, the girls maning (womaning?) the kiosks in the mall are a little too aggressive for my taste. No, I do not want to listen to the sales pitch from every one of you. Also saw a guy riding a segeway. I wish I had the camera on me. He was in a business suit and looked like a complete dork. It's got to be the gayest thing I've seen on the trip so far. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I was visited by one of my blog readers last night. She and her husband offered me the use of their car to get supplies, and their sewing machine to repair the bimini. I thank them for their offer, but I think I'm just going to continue slowly zig-zagging down the icw while I repair the rudder.

And on a final note, If you see a beer called Steel Reserve, do not buy it. It will completely F you up. It won't hit you for an hour or two, but then you will be fall down drunk.

Norfolk

I fishtailed my way down the bay yesterday. I don't know how I got this boat into port during that storm. I have very little steering and it took very active helmsmanship to get the boat here. My gps shows I did 23 miles, but that's just in forward progress. I'd bet I did 30 or more, with all the side to side action.

Norfolk is quite impressive. There's a long row of aircraft carriers and other military ships which greet you on the way in. Also a few other ships at various piers and dry docks for repairs. I wanted to take some pictures for the blog, but in this day and age, I decided that wasn't wise. On my way in, I was greeted by a Coast Guard vessel which came up quite close to take a look at me and the boat. Also passed several security/police boats.

The guide books say to beware of shipping traffic on your way in. That is an understatement. Having spent years sailing in and around Baltimore, I thought I knew what to expect. When I owned the old Pearson Ariel, it was docked at the mouth of the Patapsco. If you took it out for an afternoon sail, the sail was basically a crisscrossing of the shipping channel. You had to keep a sharp lookout for tugs and barges, and container ships as they were coming into Baltimore. These large ships can come up on you fast. One moment you look out and they are a speck on the horizon. The next, they are breathing down your neck.

Norfolk is much hairier. There is a lot more boat traffic, both small and large (At least this time of year). Also, the channel takes up most of the river. On the Patapsco, there is plenty of water to travel in outside of the channel. Not so here. Then there are the Navy ships and security which you try to steer clear of. The guide book warns that you are to stay at least 500 yards away from the ships. That is impossible. I don't think the river is even 500 yards wide.

Anyway, I'm here. And will be for a few days. Maybe as long as a week. I've finished the first leg of the journey. The boat and myself need some R&R. We need to get ourselves prepared, both physically and mentally, for the next leg of the journey. We spent last night at an anchorage in Norfolk, which I will tell you about in a later post. Today, I will spring for a marina where I can get a shower and do some laundry.

I appreciate the comments I get on the blog. I started the blog because I knew that this would be an interesting journey, and wanted to record it for posterity. I would be writing this journal, even if it was only in a little notebook, and I would likely be the only one to read it, perhaps years later as I reminisced about the trip. I know from the statistics that Google keeps that I have had a lot of visitors to this blog. And the only place I have given any notice about the blog, is on the gemini forums website.

I've gotten a bunch of emails from friends and family about the blog. Keep them coming. I enjoy them. However, if you have something to say about the blog. And it is strictly about the blog. I would appreciate if you left the message in the comments section of the blog. I think your comments make the blog a lot more interesting. Also, if you are a lurker, feel free to leave a comment. Even if it's just, "Hey, loved the blog."

Scott

Day 11 Lat : 37.0954 Lon:-76.2947

Spent yesterday cleaning up the boat and fixing what could be fixed without a trip to the store. Tried to watch some football too, but all I could pick up was a home improvement show on public television. I don't know if there's just nothing out here, or if the damage to the tv antenna ruined it's reception.

If you need to duck out of a storm on the lower Chesapeake, this is a nice place to do it. There is a public boat ramp and pier which I am tied up to. Lots of fisherman coming in and out yesterday. There is also gas and a small store with some fishing and boating supplies and munchies and beer. Everyone is very friendly. Also some porta-potties in the parking lot.

The pier is very small though, and there is really only room for a boat or two. There is nowhere to anchor in this creek. There are no depths, and if you get out of the tiny channel, you will run aground. When you enter the creek, the channel splits. Take the channel to the right and to the pier about 50 yards away.

Motoring to Norfolk today. I'll be there for a few days while I fix the rudder. There's supposedly a public pier with showers and laundry. Woo-hoo!

The Boat had a Rough Day

I busted another rudder. Not the one I already repaired. The other one. Also the bimini ripped and it's frame was ripped free of the fiberglass, and the tv antenna collapsed. The entire boat is in disarray. My plan this morning was to sail about 30 miles to a creek just north of Norfolk. I checked the weather forecast online and listened to the weather radio. There was a small craft advisory with winds 15-20 knots from the north. No problem. I did the Potomac crossing in worse weather. I'm now a salty sea dog. This will be some fun sailing.

I got out of the creek and the conditions were exactly as forecast. The wind was less than I had dealt with the other day, but the waves were bigger. They had built up quite a bit as the wind had traveled down the bay. They were bigger than I had ever seen on the bay. I was really surfing!

My route today would take me across the mouth of Mobjack bay. I would be way out in the bay for most of the trip. As the trip progressed the weather began to build. The wind grew stronger and the waves bigger. If it wasn't for my gps, I would have thought that I had somehow wandered past Norfolk and out into the ocean. The waves were huge. I kept telling myself that this type of boat has crossed oceans. If it can do that, then she and I can handle anything on the Chesapeake. We were handling the conditions just fine. Then a wave picked us up and as we came down the backside, the boat did almost a complete 180 into the wind. I tried to turn her back around, but she wouldn't respond. I thought maybe I snagged a crab pot, but there were none way out there. I thought maybe somehow the anchor had leaped out of the anchor locker and was holding us, but no. Then I looked at the rudders, and one was busted.

We foundered a bit while I collected my thoughts and assessed the situation. The foundering actually wasn't all that bad and I contemplated the worst case scenario that I would just get pushed down the bay until the weather let up. The waves were big, but I didn't think they would be able to flip the boat. Finally I decided to lower the sails and motor. I wasn't excited about getting out of the cockpit, but thought that was the route to take. With the sails down and the motor running, I did have some steering and I began making progress. In a little while I saw land in the distance and knew that this nightmare would end.

When I told people that I bought the boat and that I was going to Florida and possibly the Bahamas, often I would get a response of "oh you're going to cross the ocean, how exciting." I explained to them that the Bahamas are a day's trip from Florida, and that I would never dream of crossing an ocean in any boat. Days like today are exactly the reason why. When you are on the ocean, there is no port to duck into if the weather turns bad. And if something goes wrong, you're on your own. There is no hospital to go to, or marine parts store to pick up a few things. In the bay, I know that I'm going to spend the night in some creek, no matter what. And if worst comes to worst, I'm going to call the Coast Guard on the radio, and they are going to come save my sorry ass.

Anyway, I now have a new most harrowing sea tale. The old one was when Glen and I got blind sided by a Summer thunderstorm. And if someone asks me what my favorite beer is, I'm going to tell them it's the can of Bud that I drank in a creek after crossing the lower Chesapeake in November. I've had enough of adventures and am ready to hit the ditch and start motoring down the Dismal Swamp.

I'll add pictures to this post tomorrow, so that you can see the damage. Oh, and a giant FU to the National Weather Service.

Rudder Repair

Before
After


Rudder repaired with a steel strap I bought in Solomon's, although I still have some fiberglass work to do. Fortunately, the pre-drilled holes in the bar were exactly the correct spacing to fit with the existing hardware. One of my trusty weekend helmsman must have applied a great deal of force to the rudder, because let me tell you, the steel connecting bar was not easy to bend back into shape.

No wind yesterday, so I spent the day at anchor and even did a little kayaking and shore exploring. Also had a sponge bath. It was a lot easier than I anticipated, and I felt quite refreshed after. I'd post a picture of it, but I don't want to get banned from blogger. I think it's going to become standard operating procedure. So, if you visit me on the boat, I should be a lot less offensive, at least to your nose.

Deltaville

Left Deltaville early yesterday, but the winds died early too. I spent last night in a creek a few miles south. Deltaville was a really tiny creek and the shore was lined with marinas. There was really nowhere to anchor. If I was in a monohull, I'd have been out of luck. But I was able to find one of a couple spots along the shore that wasn't covered with piers, and backed into the shore so that I was just out of the channel.

In the morning I got some gas and washed my head under the water spigot on the fuel dock. Brrrr. Passed what are quite literally houseboats on the way out of the creek. That's the picture.

Dawn's Early Light

Did 40 miles yesterday. Point Lookout, MD to Deltaville, VA. Crossing the Potomac was a little hairy. Winds were gusting at 30 mph from the NW. The Potomac runs NW to SE, so the waves had plenty of room to build and the swells were quite large. The boat took a beating on the way out of port and into the wind, until I was clear of land and able to turn SE. Then we started surfing. I was dubious of claims on the gemini forum of speeds of 25 knots while surfing, but after yesterday, I think it might be possible. I don't think I was going that fast, but there were a few times on some really big swells, that I thought if the boat had wings instead of sails, I would be airborne. I did ten miles in just a little over an hour. The pretty picture is of the potomac crossing, and it belies the extremes of the sailing conditions. It was taken during one of the few lulls when I felt confident to pry one of my clenched fists from the helm.

I would have stayed in my anchorage, and not sailed that day, but for two reasons. One was that it was good wind, and I knew that I could make some distance. I'd like to sail, not motor, as much of this trip as possible. Secondly, I was anchored right off the state park marina and there was a police boat at the marina. I think my boat is in good condition and in compliance with all regulations, but I didn't want to chance things. I didn't know what time the park police showed up for work, but I did know that I didn't want to be around when they did. I'm sure they don't have much to do this time of year, and if they saw a catamaran sitting just yards off their pier, they might think Christmas came early this year. I did not want to spend the morning playing 20 questions with a cop.

Anyway, the Potomac crossing gave me a lot more confidence in both the boat and myself. We fared fine. I am getting my sea legs back! I turned the corner south at Virginia, and the wind and seas calmed substantially. I must have gotten complacent though, because I got farther out into the bay than I had intended when the wind direction changed. The seas became crossing and confused. It wasn't pleasant, and at that point, I decided to abandon my original goal of sailing dawn to dusk. I headed towards land. When I got near a creek, I tried to start up the engine. No luck. I took off the cowl and there was water in the engine compartment. I would have lifted the engine out of the water originally, but I wanted it in the water to help stabilize the steering. There are ropes connecting the engine to the rudders, and they move in tandem.

I decided to try to enter the creek under sail, but no luck. The creek pointed NW into the wind. And this boat will not sail into the wind. I left the cowl off, for the engine to dry and kept sailing. In the early afternoon, I reached a point where a spit of land stuck out, and I was able to get beneath it, and out of the wind and waves. I anchored and had lunch. Took the spark plugs out of the engine. I think I had also flooded it, trying to get it started. The engine dried out, started up, and I headed for a nearby anchorage. I feel like I had quite a workout yesterday. My body aches all over. But it feels good!

Mapping Woes

This is where I anchored in Solomon's the other night. Google maps thinks I was anchored on land. I've been let down by internet mapping the past few days (see my earlier post about Walmart). Also tried to anchor in a well marked creek, both on the charts and with daymarks and a sea wall in real life. A fisherman on his way in at the same time stopped and warned me that there were no depths in the creek. I told him that was ok, because I only drew 18 inches. However, as I was half way down the channel entrance, I ran aground. I decided the best course of action would be to reverse and find somewhere else to anchor for the night.

I've had a mixed bag of anchorages so far. I need to figure out what makes a good anchorage. Halyards banging and bouncing up and down do not make for a good night's sleep. When I figure it out, I'll let you know. I think it will have something to do with getting as far up a creek as I can and surrounding myself with tall trees.

More Adventures!

The days seem to be alternating between hair raising adventures and recuperative days. Today seems destined to be an adventure day. It started at 2:30 am with a thud. A 45 foot monohull had broken free of it's anchor and was blown into me. The young couple seemed a little distraught about the situation. The husband wanted to start up the engine and motor off of me, but I dissuaded him of that notion, seeing as how my anchor line looked like it was pinned to his rudder. Instead, he took one of his anchors out in his dingy and set it. He tried to pull himself off with the new anchor, but went nowhere. Finally, I had the bright idea to set another anchor for my boat. I then let my original anchor line free and drifted off him. Unfortunately, as I drifted off, the original anchor line drifted off as well. It was indeed wrapped around their rudder. And had been pinning us together.

So anyway, at least I know that my anchor can hold both my boat and a 45 foot monohull in some wind. The bad news is that my anchor is now attached to another sailboat.

Lesson for the Day

If yahoo maps shows a walmart at one end of a tall bridge with a highway running over it, and I plan to ride my bike to said walmart, and I dock at that end of the bridge, the walmart may actually be at the other end of the bridge.

Weekend Roundup

Saturday morning I picked up Glen and Fred on a creek in the Magothy. As you can see from the picture in the earlier post, I backed the boat up to a boat ramp on the creek and walked the eight feet or so to shore. The 18 inch draft on this boat is a nice feature.

The wind was blowing 10-20 knots from the north all day as we made our way down the bay. The gps showed that we were consistently running 6-8 mph (6-8 mph/ 1.15 knots per mile = 5-7 knots). I highly recommend bay sailing in the Fall. Yes the conditions were at the limit that I enjoy sailing. And there were large swells, but they were following and we surfed down them. The bridge deck even got a little wet as we barely breached some of the swells. It was a little chilly too, but not bad with several layers of clothes.

Summer sailing on the bay can be more pleasant, but it's also a lot more unpredictable. Weather conditions on land also seem to be magnified on the water. If it's hot on land, it's even hotter out on the water. There are plenty of times in the summer when there is no wind and it's just hot and unpleasant to be out on the bay. And then there are the dreaded afternoon thunderstorms which seem to appear out of nowhere. The most harrowing sailing experiences I've been through have been when I've been enjoying a summer afternoon with friends out on the boat and someone turns around to discover a really dark cloud coming at us fast. I'll take steady 20 knot winds and four foot swells over a summer thunderstorm any day.

Unfortunately, during our Saturday sail, we damaged the rudders. Fiberglass was torn and a metal bracket bent. I think there were several contributing factors to the damage, including: the heavy weather, old fiberglass, poor boat design, and strong helmsmen who didn't mind manhandling the wheel to keep a steady course. Glen maguevered a repair while we were underway, and we did a more substantial repair Sunday morning, but a more permanent repair needs to be fashioned. I think it will involve a number of steel straps and brackets to reinforce the steering connections. I'm just glad the steering cable didn't snap. On the gemini forums, that is a major topic, and would be a real pain to replace. The damages and repairs will probably be a topic of a future post.

Anyway, between the busted rudders and having three guys living on the boat this weekend, it looks like the boat has been hit by a hurricane. Glen and Fred brought as much stuff on board for the weekend as I brought for the entire six month trip. There was luggage and food strewn everywhere. Fortunately, they left the uneaten food behind and I'm stocked for the next week. Fred also loaned me his handheld gps for the trip, for which I'm deeply grateful. It will be nice to have a backup gps. I've spent the night at the pier at Glen's dad's retirement home off Solomon's Island. Glen says that when I visit his dad this morning, I can also get a shower. The pier has electricity and water, so I can top off my water and battery banks and power wash the boat.

Oh, and the picture up top. That's a j boat race south of Annapolis. We passed it on Saturday.

Gem Party!

When I picked up the boys on a creek off of the Magothy, this is what greeted us: 2 gemini catamarans, Sylkie and Double Pinocle. Passed another gemini on the way out of the creek, but I forget it's name. Maybe Tullie?

Lots more to blog about yesterday. Quite an adventure. But the boys are anxious to hit the road, and the internet is incredibly slow on the eastern shore. Spent the night at the tip of Tilghman island.

Either I was at a ridiculously protected anchorage last night, or the small craft advisory and gale wind warnings were overblown. Maybe both. All I know is that I did not sleep well the night before last, with the clanging of the halyards and wave action. Last night I slept like a baby.

Meeting up with my boys this morning and going down the bay. There are supposed to be strong north winds today, calming over the weekend, but staying northerly. Hopefully, we can get some distance covered.

Hurricane

The track of my first day's journey has been uploaded to NautiG (You need the latest flash player in order to use NautiG). Click the "Track" button to see my path, as recorded by my gps. I left town in the afternoon and sailed for about four hours. The wind was at my back at 10-15 knots, and I sailed the whole way wing on wing or on a broad reach. I hope that's a good omen for the trip.

I don't think I'm going anywhere today, except maybe across the anchorage to a more protected spot. The wind has been howling all night. There's a small craft advisory and a gale warning for tonight.

Day:1 Lift Off!

Bye, bye Baltimore.