Steal this Blog

I'm in a ditch and barely have internet. But Admiral Amy does have the internet. So I stole her blog post today about spending the summer on the boat

About my summer adventure… I’m spending the month of June and July living on a sailboat with the Captain. (For those of you who are properly horrified to hear me refer to my boyfriend as the Captain, it’s important to note that he refers to me as the Admiral.)

The Captain (also known as Captain Gladiator or Captain Crankypants, depending on his mood and mine) has been living on the boat since October and chronicling his adventures here. I’ve spent a little bit of time on the boat with him (two weeks in January and one week in March), and I’m pretty excited to move on to the boat with him for a couple of months. In part because I haven’t seen very much of him recently, and I’m looking forward to some quality time. But more and more, I’m getting excited about the boat trip itself, learning how to sail and having a mostly carefree time.

I’ll have some materials I need to prep my fall classes, and I have some research work that I’ll do on board. Outside of that, our only agenda is to sail north to meet friends for the Best Vacation Ever in Martha’s Vineyard at the end of June, and then we’ll probably stop a couple other places up there before a nice sail back.

I expect I’ll have (and will write about) a lot of challenges, too. (Strangely enough, the one thing I’ll rarely have to go without on the boat is internet. If only we could get pipeless hot water as easily as one can get wireless internet.)

In a move I can only interpret as preparation for the summer, my TV died yesterday. And there’s no way I’m replacing it now, just before I put all my things in storage for the summer. I really need to get the carcass out of my living room, as my eyes keep wandering over to it, hoping for some sort of resurrection.

Day of Rest

I left St. Augustine, FL about three weeks ago. I'm amazed by the distance I've covered. I'm in Belhaven, NC now. That's about 700 miles of sailing/motoring. I'm pretty confident about making Baltimore in a couple weeks and taking care of business.

This is the first real day off I've taken since Florida. But even on a boat, a day off is not really a day off. My primary electrical inverter died this morning. (An inverter converts the DC current from the batteries to AC, so that I can run my computer and other regular appliances). I have another inverter, but it's a little finicky. Also, my holding tank overflowed. I had to pump out the tank and clean out the mess in the locker. My bad. I pumped it out recently, but I guess I've been full of s*** recently.

Also went ashore to resupply in Belhaven. At first I tied up to what looked like the town dock. I was chased out of there. The guy would only let me tie up if I paid to spend the night. I only wanted to tie up for 15 minutes to pick up some stuff at the hardware/general store.

There is a public boat ramp about a hundred yards away, so I anchored and kayaked in. The general store has a few foodstuffs, but not much. The closest grocery store is on the highway about two miles away. I don't know why Belhaven doesn't get it's act together. It's a cute little town, and there isn't much else along the ICW here. A little effort on their part would help to revive the town and their economy. Thousands of boats pass by here, but it doesn't look like many stop.

Cooking with Admiral Amy

This was my lunch yesterday. The recipe is to open one can of black beans and one can of diced tomatoes. Cut up one Avocado and mix it all in a bowl. It takes about a minute to make.

Amy made this dish when she was aboard for Spring Break. By chance I had an avocado aboard then. I'm an avocado fiend and buy them whenever I see them reasonably priced and ripe in the supermarket. Usually I just cut them up and sprinkle with salt. It's a high fat, high sodium meal, but still good for you. But that is another rant.

The black bean, tomato and avocado salad is delicious, nutritious and easy.

Amy just started a blog about cooking and photography. I'm sure the picture would be better if she took it with her fancy camera, and the meal more delicious if she made it. I hope her own blogging won't take away from guest blogging here. But if it does, I'll just steal her content and post it here.

Amnesia

Just passed Swansboro, NC and mile marker 230. I don't remember this stretch of the ICW at all. I looked back at the blog post for this section of the trip on the way south. It is entitled Fatigue. On the way down I was cold and tired. Now I'm achy and tired. I've ran aground a couple times in the past few days. I've had to jump out and push the boat off the sandy bottom. My body aches like the day after going to the gym after a long hiatus.

Maybe there is something about this stretch of the ICW that encourages fatigue: Its middling distance from Florida and the Chesapeake, or its straightforward and featureless landscape which encourages long hours of motoring.

I took a day off from traveling in Wrightsville Beach. But it wasn't really a day off. I biked ten miles round trip to Home Depot and Walmart, fixed a bunch of stuff on the boat, and had dinner with Ross and Tom. I think I need a real day off of doing nothing. I'll look for an opportunity to do that soon.

Yada Yada Yada

I'm at anchor on the ICW in Camp Lejuene, NC. I'm surrounded by a dozen other boats. We've been stopped because there are live fire exercises ahead. It sounds like a war zone. A guy on another boat says it'll be three hours before we'll be allowed to pass.

Nice. I'll be motoring in the dark to the closest anchorage.

Ross and his buddy Tom visited the boat two days ago. It was a pleasure to meet Ross who has contributed a lot of good information to the blog. We had an enjoyable time eating dinner at a dockside restaurant, driving to West Marine to buy a new anchor, and hanging out on the boat watching the sunset.

Ross mentioned that one of the reasons he likes the blog is that it is relatable. It's not just about what I did today and who I met.

I do try to have something to say when I write a post. I don't post just to hear my own voice. Unfortunately, I haven't had much to say recently. Maybe it's because I'm tired with trying to do lots of miles. Maybe it's because I'm covering the same territory again on the way North. And while I still run aground, drag and destroy anchors, and do lots of other dumb stuff; I've done it all, and written about it before.

Anyway, I'm thinking that if there is a book in the blog, it's already been written. Now I'm just writing the denouement. Or maybe I need a break. I'm sure there will be another chapter to write this summer with Amy aboard.

Ross took the pic after I attached my new anchor to its chain.

Talent

No, this is not an old picture of the other anchor I bent. This is a new picture of the anchor I dredged up in the St. Augustine harbor, and have been using as my primary anchor. I bent it a little the other day, and it's been bending more and more until now it is useless.

This anchor bending incident was really dumb, and would lead you to question my sanity and competence. But in my defense, I was really tired when it happened. I'm not going to recount the incident. There is only so much public humiliation I can take, even if it's almost all self-inflicted.

Some of us discover our talents late in life. I never would have discovered my talent for losing/destroying anchors if I hadn't embarked on this cruise.

But anyway, a bunch of other things are broken on the boat. I'm looking forward to a little R&R (resting and repairing) tomorrow. Ross might come down for a visit too.

I caught two more bluefish on the ICW today. One of them is pretty big. But I don't know that I have any fishing talent. I'm not sure trolling a lure behind the boat for hours is a talent. By the law of averages, any moron would eventually catch a fish. But at least this one can console himself with a fresh fish dinner tonight.

South of the Border

Sorry for the infrequent blog posts. I've been on the move. I did an offshore overnighter from Charleston to Georgetown, SC. And today I motored on the ICW from Georgetown to the Little River Inlet. I motored about 60 miles in 11 hours, and only used about twelve gallons of gas. A new ICW record for me. I timed the tides well and with fair winds was able to put up the jib about half the time.

I did this stretch of the ICW in two days on the way down. It helps that the days are longer, and that I'm familiar with the territory. I went up the Waccamaw River, which is very pretty and undeveloped. Then down the Little River, which is very developed and basically a ditch (Myrtle Beach area).

There was lots of traffic on both rivers. Blame it on a beautiful Spring Saturday. My whole body aches from the long day of motoring. But the most tired part of my body is my right hand. Everyone waves as they pass. I also achieved a personal record of amount of waving in a day.

Pic is a boat I passed on the way out of Charleston harbor. Also passed Fort Sumter.

I'm monitoring the weather. It would be a nice, easy day sail to the Cape Fear Inlet tomorrow, if the weather cooperates. Soon I'm going to take a day off and maybe even a night at a marina. I think the last time I was at a marina was when Fred and I went to Bike Week in Daytona.

Oh, and the title of the post. I'm on the NC/SC border. If you've traveled I-95 down here, you know what "South of the Border" is.

The Lunatic

It drives me nuts when people say "tough road to hoe". It's "tough ROW to hoe". When someone botches this saying, it's clear they've never used a hoe and have no clue what would make a row tough or easy to hoe. (Although I do imagine them hoeing a road. That makes me chuckle.)

That's what happens in a (sub)urban culture. People lose touch with the roots of a saying. It amuses me when I'm able to use these sayings in their original literal sense. Back when I did the farming thing, I literally hoed some tough rows. Now that I'm doing the sailing thing, I've used some figurative expressions in their literal sense. (Although none are coming to mind now. I'll come back later and edit in a couple when I remember them.)

But anyway, yesterday I didn't get as far down the road as I wanted. It was very windy. I got to a spot where I had to go several miles straight into the wind. I went a few hundred yards along this length of the ICW, decided it wasn't worth the trouble, and turned back to a nice anchorage I had just passed.

Tired from all the wind and waves, I went to sleep early. I also woke early. Usually when this happens, I make myself go back to bed. I can usually fall asleep and wake at a reasonable hour.

But last night when I awoke, the wind was calm, the tide in my favor, and the moon shining. I decided to weigh anchor. (Weather reports were for another windy day today, and I had a ways to go to Charleston.)

I've never done the ICW at night before. I've seen tugboats do it. I don't know how. About half the daymarks were lit with flashing lights which helped. But half weren't. I almost ran over a couple. Also, watermen love to set their crab traps in the channel. Somehow I avoided entangling my prop in a crab line.

At one point I was lost. The handheld gps has preloaded maps, but they aren't very detailed. When on the ICW, it often looks like the boat is on land. This was one of the few times the little NautiG program was actually useful, and not just an amusement. It quickly got me back on track.

The moon set before dawn and for awhile it was just me, the boat and the stars. Fortunately soon after, I was in a ditch. The dark outline of the shore was visible yards away on either side. Hard to get lost in a ditch.

When I originally set off under the moon and stars last night, another boat was anchored yards away. I tried to be as quiet as possible, but I was still plenty noisy with the anchor chain clanging and the engine running. I thought I might have heard the folks in the other boat cursing the lunatic in the catamaran. I couldn't blame them. That's what I literally was.

Deja Vu

I spent the afternoon in Beaufort, SC.

I tied up to the free dock, took a dollar shower and did laundry at the city marina. I even got a ride to the grocery store in the marina courtesy car. John whom I met through sailnet, is staying the night at the marina and gave me a ride.

I'm back in territory I covered last Fall. But I'm seeing it backwards, traveling north now. And the weather is nicer. It all looks vaguely familiar, but still new and different from this perspective.

It is easier when every day is not into the unknown, like the trip south. I now anticipate a bridge ahead, an area of fast tide, or a stretch without a marina to gas up at. I'm not constantly checking charts and bridge schedules.

But I have had some trouble adjusting. On the trip in the ICW south, the red triangles are on the right, green squares are on the left. Going north they're opposite. Lulled by hours of motoring, I sometimes revert to that old habit. Lucky I only have a two foot draft, or I'd be stuck on some sandbar in Georgia right now.

Pic is a nice wooden sailboat and a cruise ship in the ICW by Hilton Head. I've seen these small cruise ships a few times. If you wanted to travel the ICW but weren't up to doing it on your own boat, this would be the way to do it. You would miss the fun of running aground, engine troubles and powerboat wakes. But you'd still see some of the sights.

Not That Guy

But now I am. "That Guy" talks about how fast his boat is, and how many miles he did in a single day. Maybe you're that guy. That's fine with me. Whatever floats your boat.

I prefer to stop and smell the roses. My ideal cruise is doing 2-3 knots in 5-10 knot winds. Do some fishing, see some dolphins and other sea creatures.

But now I have a schedule to keep. I have to be in Baltimore in May. And Martha's Vineyard in July. I'm not complaining about it. It is what it is. I'm actually having some fun with my routine shook up. Although it's exhausting me too. The state of Georgia is a blur. I slept twelve hours last night. Zero offshore the night before. Today I did sixty miles on the ICW. A lot of it sailing, if you can believe that.

The tides were fast and the wind brisk out of the west. I raised the jib and timed the tides whenever I could. Most of the miles between Savannah and Hilton Head, I did on the tide and a jib. No engine. And pretty fast too.

No Clue What a Tack Is

This post written from the Atlantic Ocean, about three miles east of Cumberland Island, Ga. Sailing up the coast at about two knots. Conditions look favorable for an overnighter. Currently sunny, 70s with east winds 5-10 knots.

From the New York Times Opinion Section:

Lately I’ve been thinking about the word “vang.” It is a sailing term, and if you look it up in the glossary of Royce’s “Sailing Illustrated,” you find that it refers to a line to prevent “the peak of a gaff from falling off leeward.” That is how it goes when you’re learning a new technical vocabulary. The language seems self-enclosed at first, each new definition an opaque cluster of words that themselves need defining. I was taught, during vocabulary in grade school, to try using a new word in a sentence. “There is a vang.” “Can someone show me the vang?” Those are my best efforts so far.
Full Article

I struggle with the language problem when I write the blog and when I have folks on the boat. Yesterday when I wrote about anchoring, I originally called the rope connected to the anchor a "rode". This is the correct nautical term for it. But I know that there are readers who wouldn't know what I was talking about. So I changed it to "line", which is the more general term for any rope on a boat. I figured most people would be familiar with that term.

I don't know a lot of the terms myself. I learned a them as a kid at sailing camp or in some class, but there have been periods of years when I didn't own a boat and didn't go sailing. It's easy to forget all the correct nautical terms when your boating experiences are mostly casual.

I'm relearning a lot of the terms now that I'm on the boat every day. In case you didn't get the pun in the title to this post, the clue, tack and head are the three corners of a triangular sail.

Also, I'm getting pretty good at tying a bowline knot quickly. I was taught it in the Boy Scouts, but in a pretty useless way. I never had reason to tie a bowline until recently.

Lazy Man's Moor

Motored up to Fernandina Beach today. Caught the tides well and made good time. Passed very close to a large container ship in the Jacksonville/Mayport channel. I thought about taking a picture of the ship, but there was a fast current and the channel is tight. Also caught another Blue fish for lunch. I'm crossing my fingers for good winds tomorrow. I really want to sail.

The Bahamian Moor is a two anchor system. There are long articles written about the system, but I think my anchoring system achieves pretty much the same result, without all the fuss. At least I have yet to drag anchor using it.

I never had a problem with anchor dragging on my old Pearson monohull. But I almost always sailed her in ideal conditions. The upper Chesapeake has little tide to contend with, and good anchorages are never far away. On this cruise, I've experienced some strong tides, nasty weather and crappy anchorages.

Also, catamarans swing at anchor more than monohulls. The wind affects them a lot more. As I've mentioned, of the few times I've felt seasick, a number have been at anchor.

Anyway, my system is simply to set my large danforth anchor with a long line. That's as much as most people do anyway. But once settled, I drop a smaller anchor on a shorter line. I don't bother setting it. It seems to eventually set itself as I swing about the first anchor in the changing tides and wind.

When I weigh anchor in the morning, the two anchors are almost always set at a nice angle.

Ross emailed me that he and his wife left today for a week's charter cruise in the Bahamas. The boat they chartered is a catamaran a little larger than mine. Maybe when he gets back, he can give his impressions of anchoring a catamaran in the Bahamas and the Bahamian Mooring. Not having made the Bahamas on this trip, all I can give is an account of my mooring system on the ICW.

Captain Crankypants: Part II

I thought this comment by Lou might have gotten lost to most blog readers, and that it deserved a more prominent place on the blog. I really enjoyed reading it. I know the main thread of the blog is my trip, but the comments are the payoff for me.

I found a picture of a Venture 21 to go along with the post. Louie, if you have another picture you'd like to substitute, or object to my making your comment a post, let me know.

Scott,

Your picture brought back memories of my first overnight stay on a Venture 21, 23 years ago. It was the first night spent on our (new to my Wife and I) venture 21. We set out at dusk with a pre cooked meal for dinner, and to spend our first night on a boat. The venture was the first boat we owned that had a table to eat at and a bunk to sleep in (wow).

By the time we were out in the bay, it was total blackness, no moon, not even sure exactly where we were (long before gps, did not have a loran either). This was a very basic boat, not even a depth finder. I tossed out an anchor and the rode ran for a while, so I guessed we were in plenty of water.

We sat down in our tiny little comfy dinette and enjoyed our first meal on a boat. The noise of waves lapping the hull lulled us to sleep. I awoke around 6:00 AM and noticed the boat was not rocking, and waves were not a lapping. Slid open the companion way hatch, and was not prepared for what I was about to see. The boat was high and dry, the anchor rode was completely visible right up to the anchor that was smartly dug into the mud. We were around 200 feet from any water. We were both glad we cranked up the center board before we retired (not sure if it would have retracted on it's own).

Clammers were driving by, laughing and enjoying the moment, we were not however. Nothing to do but wait for the tide to come up. I made 1 big mistake. It looked so ridiculous seeing the anchor and rode, so I pulled it and stowed the anchor.

As the tide came in it just kept pushing us further up on the sandbar, and could not float her off. Tossed out the anchor reset it and waited for more water to come, finally a couple hours we were afloat again and sailed off the bar.

Take Care,
Louie and Meg

P.S. You should have never made the blog about "Captain CrankyPants". It seems that my Wife asks every day "How is Captain CrankyPants doing today" Lol! So it seems the name stuck with her. Maybe she is trying to tell ME something, huh? Hmmm, maybe Captain CrankyPants has a distant relative in NJ? I do not think there is any sailor in the world that has not had the cranky syndrome at one time or another.

April 8, 2008 10:51 AM

Blogger Split Decision said...

Great story Lou.

That's funny about your wife asking about Captain Crankypants. Hopefully, you and I won't live to regret the title of that post. Tell Meg that Captain Crankypants says hi!

Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner

These guys thought the lure was their breakfast. Instead, they will be my lunch and dinner.

Now where's the tartar sauce?

Render Unto Caesar

Folks at home may have the expectation that every day on the boat is an adventure. Unfortunately, even on a boat life goes on and the drudgery of paying bills, doing taxes, managing the apartments in Baltimore, etc. still needs to be dealt with.

And so even on a boat, you have to pay your taxes. Although, I've heard that if you are out of the country you get an automatic extension. Maybe I'll have to sail out of US waters on the 15th. Anyone know how far out that is?

Just kidding. Started on my taxes yesterday and continuing on them today while waiting for the tide to turn in my direction. I'm getting a late start this year, but I've been pretty busy with other stuff.

When Life Gives You Lemons

Scrape the hulls

Canceled the sailing plans and headed back to St Augustine. The weather looked to be deteriorating, and I didn't want to get hit hard twice on the same stretch of ocean. It turned out to be not much. I could have continued on. Most of the weather passed south. But it looked like a lot on the radar. And the radio was starting to talk about heavy downpours, flooding, high winds and frequent lightning.

Coming into the inlet with the tide running against me turned out to be an adventure in and of itself. I had the engine running full and the centerboards up, but still we were going no more than walking pace. If I never have to come through this inlet again, it will be fine with me.

Coming into Salt Run I decided to go out of the channel. I was having a hard enough time making forward progress and thought steering in the channel and close to land was a bad idea. I ran hard aground on a large sandbar which extends all the way to the channel.

I decided to get out and scrape the hulls. The tide continued to go out and the picture was taken close to low tide. This is the first time I've really beached the boat. I'll have to do this more often. It was a lot of fun and the hulls are now cleaner than they've probably been since Split Decision left the factory.

Float Plan: Part II

Found a float plan form at United States Power Squadron. Unfortunately, filling out and submitting the form does not produce a page which is easy to copy and paste. When I have more time, I'll maybe make a form which produces a more useful page.

Anyway, below is a copy of the float plan I filed with Amy last night (minus some personal information). I promise to file something like this with her every time I go out into the ocean.

FLOAT PLAN for Split Decision

Complete this form before boating and leave it with a reliable person who can be depended upon to notify the Coast Guard or other rescue organization in case you do not return as scheduled. Do not try to file this form with the Coast Guard, they do not accept float plans. A word of caution: In case you are delayed, and it is not an emergency, inform those with your float plan, the police and/or Coast Guard of your delay in order to avoid an unnecessary search!

Person filing this plan
Name: Scott
Telephone:(Including area code) xxx-xxx-xxxx

Description of boat
Type: Catamaran Sailboat
Hull Color: White
Trim Color: Black and Red
State/Registration Number: MD xxxx xx
Length in feet: 30
Name: Split Decision
Make/Model/Year: Performance Cruising/Gemini/1983

Persons Onboard
Name Age Address Telephone
Scott xx 111 S. Any Street Baltimore, MD xxx-xxx-xxxx

Engines
Type: Outboard
Horse Power: 40
Number of engines: 1
Fuel Capacity in gals: 25

Survival Equipment (Check as Appropriate):
PFDs X Flares X Signal Mirror X Horn X Smoke Signals Flashlight X
Raft or Dinghy X EPIRB * Paddles X Food X Water X Anchor(s) X
* Frequency's: VHF-FM 15/16 121.5 MHZ 406 MHZ

Radio:
Type (Check as Appropriate) Marine VHF: X SSB: CB: Cell Phone: X
Frequencies/Channels used: 16,
Call sign/number: Split Decision

Trip expectations
Leaving from: St Augustine, FL
Going To: Cumberland Island, GA
Leaving(Date) 4/6/08
Leaving(Time) 10 AM
Return by(Date) 4/7/08
Return by(Time) 4 PM
But no later than(Date) 4/8/08
But no later than(Time) 12 PM

Other Pertinent Information:

Automobile
Make/Model/Year:
Color(s):
State/License Number:
Trailer State/License Number:
Where Parked:

If not returned by
Date 4/9/09
Time 12 PM
CALL
Coast Guard Tel # 305-415-6670
or Tel #
Created: Sat Apr 5, 2008 14:6:59 EDT
Courtesy, United States Power Squadrons®, Inc.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

The memories of my first extended passage are becoming dim. Must be time to get back out there and create some new ones. I'll attempt a short account of the passage, but I'm sorry it will lack the immediacy that it would have had if I had written about it earlier.

Although winds were forecast to be southerly, they were westerly. While making progress north, I was also getting pushed farther out into the ocean.

During the trip, I found that I needed some sleep between the hours of nine and midnight. I'm more of a morning guy and fade during those hours in social situations anyway. I owned midnight to four am and enjoyed the star filled sky and watching the moon rise. As far out as I was, I could still see light pollution from land. I needed an hour or two of sleep towards dawn.

Sleep was not very restful. It seemed every time I awoke, the light of another boat was visible on the horizon. There is a surprising amount of traffic twenty miles out. If I stay closer in, I don't see nearly as many boats.

I saw a manta ray, a sea turtle and a right whale! The right whale was the coolest because it broached the surface close to the boat a couple times.

I had the fishing pole out the entire time. At first I had the lure trailing some 50 yards off the stern. But then I saw little fish swimming behind my rudders, and then a big fish appeared behind them. I reeled in the line so that the lure was closer to the boat like the little fish.

I think the big fish was a cobia. I've been told that they hang out around manta rays. My boat might look something like a manta ray to the fish. And it is a movable feast for the fish, with all the algae attached to the hull. Something bit off the back half of one of my lures, but not the hook. I also got a hard hit on another lure, but instead of picking up the pole and setting the hook, I just sat there watching it like a dummy. The fish must have spit it out.

The water was clear and a beautiful aquamarine color. According to NOAA, I was not out in the gulf stream, but the water was still very different from the stuff you see closer in.

The first three days and two nights were an almost perfect cruise. Certainly a new and wonderful experience for me. I listened to the weather radio, and predictions to continue were for winds 10-15 mph. Up until then predictions had been 5-10 mph. I thought 5-10, 10-15, what's the difference? I'll continue on.

I think the rest of the trip has been hashed out enough. I certainly don't want to talk about it any more. Let's just say that as I entered the St. Augustine inlet, the computerized voice on the weather radio was describing current conditions as sustained winds 20-25 knots with occasional gale force gusts.

There are standard navigational buoys marking the St. Augustine channel, but there is also a large cross on land. To navigate the channel, you basically steer towards the cross and pray. At least that's what I did on my way in with that weather and without an engine.

Let There Be Light

The power company finally turned the electricity back on. Unfortunately, the electricity is provided by a new generator which I bought at Home Depot today. Not by the old generator which I tried to fix yesterday.

I replaced the head gasket on the old generator, said a prayer, and started pulling the starter rope. On the third pull the rope broke. I tried to fix it, but the recoil spring unwound on me and I was having a tough time getting it back together. I decided to just hand wind the rope. Trying to start the engine this way was a tedious process. Every time I pulled the rope, I had to unbolt the pulley from the engine and rewind the rope.

The engine still wouldn't start. I removed the spark plug and sprayed starter fluid into the cylinder. Still wouldn't start. Removed the spark plug, and saw there was no spark.

I know this was not the original problem. I ran the engine fine for twenty minutes the other day with a homemade head gasket, before that gasket blew. Anyway, I think the engine was telling me that it was finished. Kind of like a car that six months out of warranty everything starts breaking.

Fortunately, Kim and Leon had a car today. Among other places, we went to Big Lots. I'd seen an off brand generator at the store in Melbourne for $150. But the Big Lots in St. Augustine didn't have one stocked. I knew I was going to have to bite the bullet and spend some serious cash for one at Home Depot.

The smallest, cheapest one at HD was $400. But then I spotted one of the generators out of the box. It was reconditioned and priced at $200. The service tag stated that a broken fuel valve had been fixed. High Fives all around! A big thanks to Kim and Leon for helping me get it back to my boat in their dinghy, and to their friend Katie who lent us her car.

It's a really nice generator with an engine by Subaru. The manufacturer is Coleman. Coleman is taking over the boat. My fridge is Coleman brand too. I'm going to turn on all the lights tonight, watch tv and play golf on the playstation.

No more reading books by flashlight for me.

Far Out Dude!

At long last I'll start on the account of the passage. I left Port Canaveral around noon on Wednesday. The wind and waves were from the east as I motored out past the Cape Canaveral Shoals. It was a slow motor into the wind with some bridge slap onto the waves. Once past, I turned NE and set sail.

One of the things I learned on the trip was that my boat will pretty much sail itself. Until the last day, I seldom touched the helm. The boat likes a beam reach, wind pretty much perpendicular to the boat (60-100 degrees off the wind).

The boat will sail itself for hours at a time. It will wander 10-20 degrees around a compass heading, especially if the wind shifts. But it won't go into irons or tack. And I can adjust the point of sail with the rudders and sail trim.

I was never able to do this with my old boat. Of course, time aboard could be part of the reason. The old Pearson monohull I day sailed and did weekend trips. After six months aboard Split Decision, I should have some more familiarity with its performance. But I also think there is a difference between monohulls and catamarans.

I've been trying to think of some sort of physics explanation for this. I think a monohull wants to be in irons (pointed directly into the wind). That is its most stable position. To take it out of irons, some force has to act on it. A back winded jib, motor or wave. Under sail, there is a balance of forces which keep it moving forward through the wind. The wind pushes the sails, the keel keeps the boat relatively level and the rudder keeps the boat pointed.

My catamaran seems to want to sail. Its most stable position seems to be perpendicular to the wind. I think that this is because there is no keel and it doesn't heel. The force on the sails is dissipated throughout the boat in contact with the water. It's a simpler physics system than a monohull.

Anyway, my plan had been to get far enough out so that I could hove to (stick the bow into the wind and stop forward progress) to get some sleep. This turned out to be unnecessary. Unfortunately, when I awoke around midnight, the boat had decided to sail not only north, but quite far east and out into the ocean.

Cheeseburger in Paradise

Enjoyed happy hour at the Oyster Creek Marina with Kim and Leon and Bob and Ovida (I'm not sure who the guy on the rope in back of us is, or the chick sitting on my head). A lot of the conversation was spent bemoaning our engine problems. Kim and Leon were stuck in Charleston earlier in their trip with engine problems. Bob and Ovida have just fixed theirs, but will be remaining in St A for another month. I feel fortunate that my engine was so quick and easy to fix. But those guys have monohulls with big diesel engines.

I found out that Kim has a sewing machine aboard and has been picking up work making sail covers, biminis, etc. My bimini is again in tatters. Hopefully I can work out some sort of bargain with Kim to get it mended a bit. Bob and Ovida have a blog too: hakunamatatayellowboat.blogspot.com. Try saying that three times fast. Lots of pics of St. A on their blog.

Cross your fingers that my generator head gaskets arrive today.

Float Plan

It's a good idea to file a sail plan before you head out on the ocean. This is just letting someone on land know where you are going and when you expect to arrive there. I admit that the comment I left on the blog to Ross that I was going out on the ocean for a night or two, was not the most detailed sail plan.

Amy got worried after she didn't here from me for a couple days on the ocean passage. She called the coast guard. Let me clue people into the fact that there are not a lot of cell phone towers out on the ocean. Amazingly, I occasionally had some cell phone service as far as 20 miles from land. Not enough for a phone conversation. But enough to send a text message.

I guess I have conditioned folks that there will be constant contact from the boat. I'll take the blame for putting up a webcam, hooking up my gps to the internet, and posting daily to the blog. But let me tell you now that there will almost certainly be periods of days on the trip north when I will be incommunicado. While there was daily internet on the ICW on the way down, there will not be on the ocean trip north.

And as distressing as it may be to loved ones on land, there isn't much you or the coast guard can do to help if I get myself in a jam. You may have some expectation that they are going to send out helicopters and boats to rescue me, but I think that is mostly the stuff of movies. I don't know what their protocol is, but when a sailboat is overdue, all I've heard is a pan-pan call that vessels should be on the lookout. Also if a boat is in distress, I've heard pan-pans that other vessels in the area should assist if possible.

Trust me that as long as I'm alive and the boat is afloat, I'm doing everything I can to get the boat safely into port. And I wouldn't really expect someone to come save my sorry ass anyway. I'm the one who made the choice to go out in the ocean. And if weather conditions deteriorate to where it's unsafe, I would feel really bad if someone came out to help me and ended up getting hurt. I don't care if they have trained for it and it is their job.

Anyway, Leon and Kim are anchored a couple hundred yards from me. We're going to happy hour. I'll talk to you tomorrow, as long as my head gaskets arrive and I have some electricity.

Purrs Like a Kitten

Outboard's Running! It was just corroded spark plug boots. Ordinarily, I would have replaced the spark plug wires as a matter of course during an electrical tune-up. But the spark plug wires seem to be integrated with the C.D. unit. From my research online, a replacement C.D. unit would cost a couple hundred dollars, at least. I ran over to autozone this morning and bought a couple spark plug wires. I bought a couple where the boots seemed to fit my spark plug (of course autozone does not carry the specified equipment for a Tohatsu outboard). I stripped the boots from the wires and clamped them onto my outboards wires. I said a prayer (the boat has been a prayerful place recently), and pulled the cord. Engine started after a few pulls.

You can see my repair, and the bubbling water from the prop in the pic. Of course this is one of my duct tape and baling twine repairs. Hopefully, I'll eventually fix it properly. I have some dielectric lubricant to put on the connections, and I need to figure out how to get the rubber boot over the connections for protection. I'll probably tape it up really well too.

I don't blame my outboard for quitting on me. The boat took quite a bath on the way into St. Augustine. A lot of water came over the bridge deck and the forward berth was soaked so that I couldn't sleep in it for a couple nights. We took water over the stern too, and I took a couple baths. I probably needed the baths. I haven't been keeping up with my sponge bath regimen. But I don't think the outboard appreciated the hosing down. I'm not sure what the generator's excuse is for choosing this time to quit on me. It was just along for the ride. New head gaskets should arrive tomorrow.

On a Jib and a Prayer

My Generator is dead. It blew its head gasket. I just picked up some gasket material at Autozone from which to fashion a new head gasket. The material is gasket material, but not specified as head gasket material, so we'll see. I'm also ordering a couple new head gaskets from the generator distributor.

So anyway, I now have next to no electricity on the boat. (I'm at the St. Augustine library charging my laptop.) And you thought conditions on the boat were basic before. When the sun goes down now, it's lights out. And I've been doing a lot of reading. I've been reading some food book Amy left behind, and a catamaran book that someone gave me at my marina in Baltimore.

Also, my outboard is dead. So I will be spending at least a few days in the lovely town of St. Augustine. I've diagnosed the problem as weak spark. Actually, no spark. Although, I have determined that some voltage is coming through to the plugs.

I've become quite good at reading electrical diagrams. I could give you a pretty good electrical tour of my outboard. But although I know the names of all the stuff, I'm not sure exactly what they do, or how they work. For example, there is some dohicky called a rectifier. And the manual refers to something called a C.D. unit. I think it's a distributor, but I'm not sure.

Coming into St. Augustine in rough weather, without an engine was an adventure. Anyone who has navigated the inlet will tell you that it's not easy under the best conditions. It's narrow and guarded by shoals. The boat and I entered the inlet on a jib and a prayer, and not much else. The one thing I had going for me was a rising tide to help carry me in. If the tide had been going against me, there's a good chance Split Decision would be grounded on one of those shoals, and I'd be writing you from a cheap motel room.

I'm working on an account of the passage from Port Canaveral. I promise it soon.