October flew past in a flurry of activity. Richard went out to work, I worked at home (home for the present, anyway), blogging and writing and making arrangements and generally getting ready to go to Toronto for my art show. In between we finalized arrangements for taking Into The Blue out of the water at Purcell’s Cove Marina. We agreed on a nice sheltered spot, since she will be out for a while, and a friend offered us a cradle there we could use. Things began to fall into place.
Richard went to work on modifying the cradle so that it would fit Into The Blue. He cut, moved supports, and generally tried to make it ready. Then they moved the cradle into place, and that revealed a few weaknesses that meant trips to the lumber store, for 4 x 4s and 2 x 4s to reinforce areas that had grown rotten. After that, it was time to think about getting the boat from Alderney Marina across to Purcells Cove.
With my art show coming up rapidly, and the date for climbing aboard the train to Toronto even closer, we chose the best weather day we could find to move the boat. Winds had been blowing out of the north and the east, strongly. This day it was cold but, in spite of grey clouds building to the south west, the winds were good and the water pleasantly smooth. Richard fired up the outboard, thinking of a smooth trip across the harbour and around the shallows off Point Pleasant Park to Purcells Cove. We left it to warm up, while we got the sails ready - just in case. We always get the sails ready, just in case.
The outboard went one step beyond warming upn -it overheated. Then it refused to start. Time was passing. The clouds were building. The choices were diminishing. We pulled the sails up and went. The sailing was good. We went to Plan C - Richard called ahead to say we were on our way without an engine, and what were our options?
The wind was from a good direction for sailing down the channel into the cove and to the marina. It seemed our option - the one we ended up using anyway - was to sail in to the dock, where someone would meet us and take our lines. The only snag there was when the main decided to jam and not come running smoothly down. We kissed the tyres on the outside docks and everyone stayed well clear of the boom as they took our ropes. Then they held us long enough for us to get the main lowered, handed us down to an empty slip and left us to tidy up and take down and put away our sails. With that accomplished I left Richard to finish haul-out preprations while I prepared for the show.
During that week he took the mast down, worked more on the cradle, and generally go the boat ready to be hauled. Then, while I concentrated on last minute preparations in Toronto, the boat was hauled in Halifax. By crane. Those who have boats will know the feeling of seeing your boat lift from the water hanging on two straps over water and then over rocky land... Richard got to witness the lift directly - I only had to look at the pictures afterward.
Putting the boat on the cradle revealed a few more spots in need of reinforcement, plus some slight miscalculations. More lumber, more cutting, more shoring up - but now as you read this Into The Blue is sitting on her cradle, waiting for us to erect a shed around her to protect us and boat from the worst of the weather. Meanwhile we’ve started doing more unloading of gear and bits. It’s still amazes us what we can fit into a thirty foot boat.
For me, the time in Toronto was a welcome interlude, a chance not just to present my art and ideas but a chance to see some family and friends, and share what I had been doing. The time was almost all spent preparing for my art show. There was a lot of walking, meeting - and finding refuge in a friends apartment, where I could do all the writing and printing and computer checking that needed to be done. As for the show - you can read more about it on my art blog. Here I’ll just say it was exciting, tiring, and rewarding and that I’ll be doing another one next year, with a whole new group of paintings and prints.
In the meantime prints from this show are available online now, at an online store I’ve created, and as with paintings and prints sold at the show part of the proceeds go to support artists working with teachers and children to improve access to and the quality of education in one of the poorer areas of Nicaragua. Some of you already know a lot about the show and how it went, and I would invite anyone else who’s interested to visit my art blog and store site.
So now the boat is resting on it’s much strengthened cradle; I am back and recovering from the burst of activity in Toronto. And the winds and weather of a Nova Scotia fall are coming and going, sometimes tempestuous, sometimes calm. We are looking ahead to weekend days of planning and measuring and remeasuring and discussing and boat work. On and off the boat.
Refit time...
Haulout pictures courtesy of Swedish Joe, who had his camera there.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Friday, October 09, 2009
September Wanderings
The leaves are turning, and the temperature is getting colder. There has been a little time for exploring, but mostly we’ve been working, each of us in our own way. Richard did have to take a little time off after being injured (he’s recovered, pretty well), and that was a challenge. On the other hand, we have settled on a place to keep Into The Blue during her refit, thanks to friends in Alderney Marina, and expect to take the boat over to Purcells Cove in the next week or so. It will have to be in the next week or so, since I (Margaret) will be leaving soon for Toronto, and my much-looked-forward to get-together cum art show cum fundraiser and the haul-out date will be before I get back. Betwen haul-out (by crane) and event the weekend of October 24th/25th will likely be a somewhat nervous time.
We have taken a little time out to explore. We found interesting public art while walking along the Dartmouth waterfront. We dropped in on a car show that offered rides in old British cars (the proceeds went to charity) and swapped a few tales with a British Leyland Mini owner. One sunday we spent a little time talking to a very friendly group of model sailboat racers by one of the lakes in the middle of town. One even gave Richard the chance to sail in one of the races. It may not be the same as sailing our own boat, but he had fun. Something to do while the boat is being refit? All work and no play...
There are no pictures from the time spent with the model sailboat racers, but here are a few of the pictures we did take.
We have taken a little time out to explore. We found interesting public art while walking along the Dartmouth waterfront. We dropped in on a car show that offered rides in old British cars (the proceeds went to charity) and swapped a few tales with a British Leyland Mini owner. One sunday we spent a little time talking to a very friendly group of model sailboat racers by one of the lakes in the middle of town. One even gave Richard the chance to sail in one of the races. It may not be the same as sailing our own boat, but he had fun. Something to do while the boat is being refit? All work and no play...
There are no pictures from the time spent with the model sailboat racers, but here are a few of the pictures we did take.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Halifax, Summer 2009
After a warm, mainly sunny August the winds in Halifax have turned cooler again. Summer seems to have flown past. We’ve done a little sailing. We’ve gone to the Jazz Festival, and visited the tall ships on the waterfront. We’ve explored a little further on land than we could before - visited more of Dartmouth’s lakes, seen parts of St. Margaret’s Bay from the land side, instead of the water. We’ve found a very good Jamaican restaurant (Caribbean Twist - very good spicy hot jerk for those who like it, a range of curries and vegetarian dishes). We spent an enjoyable couple of weeks housesitting.
In the meantime we’ve been trying to make up our minds where to haul Into The Blue for the major refit that will take place over this winter and next summer - and hopefully not too much longer. And working hard at non-boat things. And planning and dreaming...
And of course we’ve taken some pictures - hope that you enjoy them.
In the meantime we’ve been trying to make up our minds where to haul Into The Blue for the major refit that will take place over this winter and next summer - and hopefully not too much longer. And working hard at non-boat things. And planning and dreaming...
And of course we’ve taken some pictures - hope that you enjoy them.
Friday, June 05, 2009
A Little Bit of Shelburne, Nova Scotia
The red building is the Shelburne Harbour Yacht Club (and the Osprey Arts Centre); the building next to it houses the area where the longboat we saw was being constructed.
We treated ourselves to a good meal at the Sea Dog Saloon - lots of food, nicely cooked! And it offers dock-and-dine facilities - just bring your dinghy to the dock - and free wi-fi so we could let people know where we were.
Sailboats were anchored off the waterfront, one from the Netherlands and another we guessed might have been British - both looked well-traveled.
As you look out you can see why the harbour is well-sheltered.
Back to Halifax, via Shelburne, Nova Scotia
The seal that had watched us leave Martha’s Vineyard set the tone for our travels to and along Nova Scotia. Winds remained generally light, which gave us lots of time to see some of the creatures that shared the waters with us - and on this part of our journey we saw more in a couple of days than we had seen during all the days of our earlier travels. Between Martha’s Vineyard and Shelburne a large right whale came to the surface off our stern, lay at the surface, blew a couple of times, cast a beady eye our way, and opened his mouth before disappearing under the water. We next saw its spout off in the distance. The next day a pod of what looked like orcas appeared off our port side. Later, we saw the back and fin of what was probably a minke whale.
Dolphins came past the boat several times, mostly just cruising by but occasionally pausing to hunt around the boat. We saw many birds traveling, feeding or resting - black-headed laughing gulls, ring-billed gulls, storm petrels paddling their feet on the water as they fed, terns and others we have not yet identified. Every creature seemed to be on the move...
Between Shelburne and Halifax we saw more whales. At one point we found ourselves sailing where, temporarily, food was plentiful: birds circled overhead, dolphins hunted and a minke whale surfaced and disappeared ahead of and beside us. When creatures are feeding, they are so concentrated on getting food that where they are is not the best place to be, however interesting; we were glad to move away from them. In the still, windless hours of one very dark night we heard the breathing of and the sound of water lapping around what must have been a sleeping whale off our starboard side.
We always leave our depth sounder on, on the theory that its ping lets dolphins and whales know that we are there. Sources suggest running your engine at low rpm as well, but of course we had no engine to run. Still, it was very unlikely that any of them would deliberately pose a threat to us, and since we were proceeding slowly we were not exactly a threat to the creatures around us. Though, some of them being rather large, there was no doubt that we would prefer to avoid getting too close to them.
Since light wind dominated most days, our actual sailing consisted mostly of making every effort to keep the boat moving. Hour by hour we crept along, enjoying gusts and short periods of good winds when they came and hand-steering much of the time in between. Or, when steering was not really possible, at least trying to keep the boat pointing in the right direction. After the engine had swallowed sea water as we left Pollock Rip Channel we could not resort to using it even when the seas were almost flat. Nor did we want to risk fixing it at sea, since Richard needed to take the carburettor apart to dry it out, and any part that fell out there would likely be lost forever. We would be sailing in to our next harbour, but if our next harbour was Halifax that would not be a problem.
As we approached Nova Scotia another blow was threatening, with possible gale force winds. We were a day and a half of good sailing from Halifax, and the sailing was slow - so it could take much longer. Under the circumstances we decided to go in to Shelburne, somewhat nervous because we had no detailed charts of the harbour itself. Not that we planned to go in totally blind; we knew there was a yacht club in the harbour, and we had its phone number. We hoped to get at least some of the information we needed from them. As we approached we tried to radio, then phone the Shelburne Yacht Club. What we did not know was that it was not fully operational yet and not open every day. When we did manage to contact the club later in the morning we tried to find out about coming in; the young lady there did her best to be helpful, but she was clearly not a sailor.
However the fates were kind to us. As we came closer we saw a motor vessel off the shore, going in, so we radioed them and told them about our dilemma. The boat was Ohana; this was their first time here as well, but they were well equipped with a chart of the harbour on their chart plotter. They kindly agreed to keep an eye out and let us know what we needed to know to come in safely. We were lucky that there were two sailors on board, including the man on the radio, and they understood what we needed to know. They gave us good information, letting us know what buoys lay ahead and where we could expect to see them, and stayed in touch with us until we picked up a mooring ball off the yacht club. When we were in and had taken care of our immediate needs we went to find and thank them.
First order of business, and first phone call: checking in with Canada Border Services. Since we could not come to a dock, they came to us, courtesy of a boat from the Sea Dog Saloon. Then it was time to let family and friends know where we were, tidy up the boat, try to make ourselves look respectable, and go ashore. The Sea Dog Saloon offers dock and dine; we took the dinghy in to their dock and enjoyed a good and hearty meal while taking advantage of their free wi-fi (passworded). Then to the yacht club to check what facilities were available and pay for our mooring. the cost was very reasonable, at $15 a night with a weekly fee if we needed it, and there were showers for $2. Cruising sailors will be happy to know that they make their facilities available to anchored boats, for a daily or weekly fee, and there is laundry (extra cost) as well as showers. Since we paused for two nights, we also found out that Friday night was a busy, social night, with food and drink and lots of conversation.
We did not spend much time in Shelburne, but it was enough to be aware of the many historic buildings along the waterfront, and to be invited in to see a longboat, being built and well along the way to completion. We will probably see it sailing, since it will be visiting Halifax for the 250th anniversary of the Royal Navy Dockyard in mid-July. On our walk to the grocery store we found people in the town friendly, helpful and welcoming and quick to give directions and point out things we might find interesting. When we come back we’ll be able to visit some of the museums we walked past, and the waterfront art gallery and theatre, maybe even enjoy one of the living history re-enactments Shelburne is known for.
Apart from discovering a good harbour and pleasant place to visit, stopping gave us time to take apart and dry out the motor on the deck instead of over the water. Then we used it to leave again, motoring out of the shelter of Shelburne Harbour early on our second morning in light winds, past fish farms and fishing boats and fish and boat related businesses scattered along the coast. We had two long days of light winds as we moved toward Halifax. On our last day out, we had south west winds and fog, so we ended up approaching and entering Halifax Harbour in the fog and the dark, using radar and frequent chart positions to take us safely in. As we approached we checked in with Halifax Harbour Traffic, and kept a listening watch as they directed so that we could hear the movements of ships and a coast guard vessel as they went through the harbour and stay out of their way.
Once past McNab’s and George’s Islands we found ourselves tacking past oil rigs moored in the harbour. It was after midnight, and by now we were out of the fog, and grateful for the ambient light that made it easier to find Alderney Marina and pick up a mooring ball there. We were finally back in Halifax. As soon as we were secure we has something to eat (food had not been high on the agenda as we worked our way through the fog) before we fit in a few hours sleep. It seemed very little time had passed before we were waking up to start making phone calls and begin the process of picking up the threads of work and life on shore.
Now we are back, and it is time to decide on where, when and how to haul out and refit Into The Blue. Hopefully we’ll fit a little more sailing in before she joins us on dry land. We'll let you know.
Dolphins came past the boat several times, mostly just cruising by but occasionally pausing to hunt around the boat. We saw many birds traveling, feeding or resting - black-headed laughing gulls, ring-billed gulls, storm petrels paddling their feet on the water as they fed, terns and others we have not yet identified. Every creature seemed to be on the move...
Between Shelburne and Halifax we saw more whales. At one point we found ourselves sailing where, temporarily, food was plentiful: birds circled overhead, dolphins hunted and a minke whale surfaced and disappeared ahead of and beside us. When creatures are feeding, they are so concentrated on getting food that where they are is not the best place to be, however interesting; we were glad to move away from them. In the still, windless hours of one very dark night we heard the breathing of and the sound of water lapping around what must have been a sleeping whale off our starboard side.
We always leave our depth sounder on, on the theory that its ping lets dolphins and whales know that we are there. Sources suggest running your engine at low rpm as well, but of course we had no engine to run. Still, it was very unlikely that any of them would deliberately pose a threat to us, and since we were proceeding slowly we were not exactly a threat to the creatures around us. Though, some of them being rather large, there was no doubt that we would prefer to avoid getting too close to them.
Since light wind dominated most days, our actual sailing consisted mostly of making every effort to keep the boat moving. Hour by hour we crept along, enjoying gusts and short periods of good winds when they came and hand-steering much of the time in between. Or, when steering was not really possible, at least trying to keep the boat pointing in the right direction. After the engine had swallowed sea water as we left Pollock Rip Channel we could not resort to using it even when the seas were almost flat. Nor did we want to risk fixing it at sea, since Richard needed to take the carburettor apart to dry it out, and any part that fell out there would likely be lost forever. We would be sailing in to our next harbour, but if our next harbour was Halifax that would not be a problem.
As we approached Nova Scotia another blow was threatening, with possible gale force winds. We were a day and a half of good sailing from Halifax, and the sailing was slow - so it could take much longer. Under the circumstances we decided to go in to Shelburne, somewhat nervous because we had no detailed charts of the harbour itself. Not that we planned to go in totally blind; we knew there was a yacht club in the harbour, and we had its phone number. We hoped to get at least some of the information we needed from them. As we approached we tried to radio, then phone the Shelburne Yacht Club. What we did not know was that it was not fully operational yet and not open every day. When we did manage to contact the club later in the morning we tried to find out about coming in; the young lady there did her best to be helpful, but she was clearly not a sailor.
However the fates were kind to us. As we came closer we saw a motor vessel off the shore, going in, so we radioed them and told them about our dilemma. The boat was Ohana; this was their first time here as well, but they were well equipped with a chart of the harbour on their chart plotter. They kindly agreed to keep an eye out and let us know what we needed to know to come in safely. We were lucky that there were two sailors on board, including the man on the radio, and they understood what we needed to know. They gave us good information, letting us know what buoys lay ahead and where we could expect to see them, and stayed in touch with us until we picked up a mooring ball off the yacht club. When we were in and had taken care of our immediate needs we went to find and thank them.
First order of business, and first phone call: checking in with Canada Border Services. Since we could not come to a dock, they came to us, courtesy of a boat from the Sea Dog Saloon. Then it was time to let family and friends know where we were, tidy up the boat, try to make ourselves look respectable, and go ashore. The Sea Dog Saloon offers dock and dine; we took the dinghy in to their dock and enjoyed a good and hearty meal while taking advantage of their free wi-fi (passworded). Then to the yacht club to check what facilities were available and pay for our mooring. the cost was very reasonable, at $15 a night with a weekly fee if we needed it, and there were showers for $2. Cruising sailors will be happy to know that they make their facilities available to anchored boats, for a daily or weekly fee, and there is laundry (extra cost) as well as showers. Since we paused for two nights, we also found out that Friday night was a busy, social night, with food and drink and lots of conversation.
We did not spend much time in Shelburne, but it was enough to be aware of the many historic buildings along the waterfront, and to be invited in to see a longboat, being built and well along the way to completion. We will probably see it sailing, since it will be visiting Halifax for the 250th anniversary of the Royal Navy Dockyard in mid-July. On our walk to the grocery store we found people in the town friendly, helpful and welcoming and quick to give directions and point out things we might find interesting. When we come back we’ll be able to visit some of the museums we walked past, and the waterfront art gallery and theatre, maybe even enjoy one of the living history re-enactments Shelburne is known for.
Apart from discovering a good harbour and pleasant place to visit, stopping gave us time to take apart and dry out the motor on the deck instead of over the water. Then we used it to leave again, motoring out of the shelter of Shelburne Harbour early on our second morning in light winds, past fish farms and fishing boats and fish and boat related businesses scattered along the coast. We had two long days of light winds as we moved toward Halifax. On our last day out, we had south west winds and fog, so we ended up approaching and entering Halifax Harbour in the fog and the dark, using radar and frequent chart positions to take us safely in. As we approached we checked in with Halifax Harbour Traffic, and kept a listening watch as they directed so that we could hear the movements of ships and a coast guard vessel as they went through the harbour and stay out of their way.
Once past McNab’s and George’s Islands we found ourselves tacking past oil rigs moored in the harbour. It was after midnight, and by now we were out of the fog, and grateful for the ambient light that made it easier to find Alderney Marina and pick up a mooring ball there. We were finally back in Halifax. As soon as we were secure we has something to eat (food had not been high on the agenda as we worked our way through the fog) before we fit in a few hours sleep. It seemed very little time had passed before we were waking up to start making phone calls and begin the process of picking up the threads of work and life on shore.
Now we are back, and it is time to decide on where, when and how to haul out and refit Into The Blue. Hopefully we’ll fit a little more sailing in before she joins us on dry land. We'll let you know.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Martha's Vineyard, Spring 09
The ferry to Woods Hole, leaving past the moorings off Owen Park in Vineyard Haven.
This graceful stone building is the Bank of Martha's Vineyard, originally a harness and saddle shop.
The Stone Church, home to the Christ United Methodist Church, built in 1923.
Spring trees on the Vineyard.
Trees, a stone wall, a small building - some of the things we quite often saw as we walked around.
Chesapeake to Martha's Vineyard
The trip from Chesapeake to Martha’s Vineyard started very nicely, with a good sail out of the Bay on a nice combination of wind and tide. After that things changed rather quickly - from sun and wind behind to fog and wind on the nose. Our first day out we traveled 80 miles through the water to get 42 miles closer to where we were going; our second day out was a little better. Then the wind went from light to gale force, and we sat out three hours of heavy weather hove to before we started sailing again. After that we had about twenty-four hours to get to an anchorage before the next big blow. We set our bow for Martha’s Vineyard, and coaxed as much speed as we could out of the boat while the winds were light, sailing through a foggy night.
The next morning found us approaching Martha’s Vineyard in rising wind, enough to carry us through the current if we stayed relatively close to shore. And we managed to talk to one of our friends there, Dennis, by phone, and he offered to see us into the shelter of Lake Tashmoo and let us use his mooring there, since his boat was on the hard. We were flying along (for us) going in and out of the fog, watching our lat/longs and charting them frequently to make sure we stayed in good water, when we came around the last point before the entrance to Lake Tashmoo and saw the lights of his truck beckoning us in.
He helped us through the entrance, signaling where the water was deepest. We came safely through the entrance, aimed for the red buoy we had been told to hug - and ran aground on the sandbank beside the channel. We put up all available sail to try and sail ourselves off, tilted the boat well over - and stayed stuck. Richard started to put our dinghy together, to take an anchor out into the channel. He was about halfway through when a small sailboat motored briskly away from a dock and towards us, and one of the young men on board offered to row our anchor out into the channel so we could try and winch ourselves off. We were in the middle of doing that when Dennis called to say he was on his way with a fisherman, to help us off. The cavalry was coming.
Things got a little confusing for a short while, for two tired people who were really looking forward to being able to rest. But Dennis and his fisherman friend rapidly sorted us out, and before we knew it we were on our way down the Lake and then securely tied to Dennis’ mooring. And then they wished us a good rest, and left us appreciating how well a difficult sail can end with just a bit of willing help.
We tidied up the boat (your boat takes care of you, you take care of it), made sure things were secure for the coming blow, finished putting the dinghy together and fell into bed, leaving other considerations for the next morning. Late the next morning, which was when we woke up. Communications were the first order of business, so we walked in to town to a cafe where we could use the internet, then met Dennis and went with him to enjoy an afternoon of hospitality and help.
We started the next week with a ride from the kind fisherman who had hauled us off the shoal. He took us most of the way to a welder who would fix our outboard bracket for us - it was showing signs of rust and wear. Whit Hanschka at Fine Metalwork took time from creating much more elegant pieces to help us. That took care of one necessary task - we walked in to Vineyard Haven that day and several others to take care of the rest of the things we needed to do. We wanted to make sure we had provisions on board and would be ready to go when we could, even as we enjoyed the shelter and beauty of Lake Tashmoo.
It was almost a week before a break in the weather seemed imminent. Since we needed to leave Lake Tashmoo on the right tide and the tide we would need to help us across the Sounds and through the Pollock Rip Channel would run at a different time, we dropped Dennis’ mooring the day before our possible departure and made our way to Vineyard Haven. We anchored outside the breakwater for the night and the next day we ran errands and did laundry while we waited to find out our chances of leaving. When we found out the next day that there would be one more blow to sit through we moved on to a mooring ball in the harbor, a much better place to be when winds blow out of the north. Picking up the mooring in windy weather using the outboard proved a bit of an adventure, but we finally got settled, ran our last errands, stowed the dinghy on board and got ready to leave the next day, after the weather had settled down again.
We left a little later than we should have the next morning. That may be why we did not quite make it through the Pollock Rip Channel, even after a good sail with fair winds and good current across the sound. Or it may be because the wind dropped before we could get through; or because a wave detached the gas line from the motor as we were using it to try to get past those last two channel markers. Without wind or engine we did what many sailboats have done before us - dropped an anchor, and waited for the wind and current to change. It took five hours - enough time to enjoy supper, clean up, have a chat and a rest. Then the current slacked off and the wind came up just enough for Richard to coax Into The Blue past those last two markers, and we were on our way to Nova Scotia.
A curious seal had watched our progress through the channel, popping up at odd times in different spots. We last saw it as we turned toward Nova Scotia.
The next morning found us approaching Martha’s Vineyard in rising wind, enough to carry us through the current if we stayed relatively close to shore. And we managed to talk to one of our friends there, Dennis, by phone, and he offered to see us into the shelter of Lake Tashmoo and let us use his mooring there, since his boat was on the hard. We were flying along (for us) going in and out of the fog, watching our lat/longs and charting them frequently to make sure we stayed in good water, when we came around the last point before the entrance to Lake Tashmoo and saw the lights of his truck beckoning us in.
He helped us through the entrance, signaling where the water was deepest. We came safely through the entrance, aimed for the red buoy we had been told to hug - and ran aground on the sandbank beside the channel. We put up all available sail to try and sail ourselves off, tilted the boat well over - and stayed stuck. Richard started to put our dinghy together, to take an anchor out into the channel. He was about halfway through when a small sailboat motored briskly away from a dock and towards us, and one of the young men on board offered to row our anchor out into the channel so we could try and winch ourselves off. We were in the middle of doing that when Dennis called to say he was on his way with a fisherman, to help us off. The cavalry was coming.
Things got a little confusing for a short while, for two tired people who were really looking forward to being able to rest. But Dennis and his fisherman friend rapidly sorted us out, and before we knew it we were on our way down the Lake and then securely tied to Dennis’ mooring. And then they wished us a good rest, and left us appreciating how well a difficult sail can end with just a bit of willing help.
We tidied up the boat (your boat takes care of you, you take care of it), made sure things were secure for the coming blow, finished putting the dinghy together and fell into bed, leaving other considerations for the next morning. Late the next morning, which was when we woke up. Communications were the first order of business, so we walked in to town to a cafe where we could use the internet, then met Dennis and went with him to enjoy an afternoon of hospitality and help.
We started the next week with a ride from the kind fisherman who had hauled us off the shoal. He took us most of the way to a welder who would fix our outboard bracket for us - it was showing signs of rust and wear. Whit Hanschka at Fine Metalwork took time from creating much more elegant pieces to help us. That took care of one necessary task - we walked in to Vineyard Haven that day and several others to take care of the rest of the things we needed to do. We wanted to make sure we had provisions on board and would be ready to go when we could, even as we enjoyed the shelter and beauty of Lake Tashmoo.
It was almost a week before a break in the weather seemed imminent. Since we needed to leave Lake Tashmoo on the right tide and the tide we would need to help us across the Sounds and through the Pollock Rip Channel would run at a different time, we dropped Dennis’ mooring the day before our possible departure and made our way to Vineyard Haven. We anchored outside the breakwater for the night and the next day we ran errands and did laundry while we waited to find out our chances of leaving. When we found out the next day that there would be one more blow to sit through we moved on to a mooring ball in the harbor, a much better place to be when winds blow out of the north. Picking up the mooring in windy weather using the outboard proved a bit of an adventure, but we finally got settled, ran our last errands, stowed the dinghy on board and got ready to leave the next day, after the weather had settled down again.
We left a little later than we should have the next morning. That may be why we did not quite make it through the Pollock Rip Channel, even after a good sail with fair winds and good current across the sound. Or it may be because the wind dropped before we could get through; or because a wave detached the gas line from the motor as we were using it to try to get past those last two channel markers. Without wind or engine we did what many sailboats have done before us - dropped an anchor, and waited for the wind and current to change. It took five hours - enough time to enjoy supper, clean up, have a chat and a rest. Then the current slacked off and the wind came up just enough for Richard to coax Into The Blue past those last two markers, and we were on our way to Nova Scotia.
A curious seal had watched our progress through the channel, popping up at odd times in different spots. We last saw it as we turned toward Nova Scotia.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Old Point Comfort and Hampton, VA
The elegant Chamberlin Hotel, once a place for the rich and famous to visit and now re-created as an upscale retirement community.
A scene from the family life of soldiers at Fort Monroe recreated in the Casemate Museum.
Good advice? For some, anyway.
Hampton University buildings, on one side of the anchorage.
The Cousteau Society Museum, and the Crowne Plaza Hotel, on the other side of the anchorage.
Fishing boats docked off the fish plant share the shelter of Hampton with cruising, tour and local pleasure boats.
Visiting Old Point Comfort and Hampton, VA
After a couple of days of pleasant, warm sailing, the good weather window we were enjoying threatened to close. Our choices for places to shelter this time: Chesapeake Bay or Cape May. We chose Chesapeake Bay - for one thing it was the perfect opportunity to meet one of the voices we had been talking to on the Cruiseheimers Net in the mornings, for another it was that much closer to where we were - and that much further away from where the actual bad weather would occur, further up the coast.
So we consulted our charts and chose our course to an anchorage in Old Point Comfort. We were close to the bay’s entrance when the wind dropped, leaving us trying to coax the boat to get closer while the tide and current were still favorable. Finally we had to admit it was either take many more hours that we wanted to to get there, or turn once again to our trusty motor. So we started our motor and travelled slowly into and up the bay, keeping an eye out for ships and barges as we went and for any large power boats creating large wakes that might swamp the engine (Not every large powerboat is so thoughtlessly driven - so this is a good time to thank those skippers who are considerate and knowledgeable enough to pass smaller boats and sailboats gently). In the end it was the powerboat wakes that were the greatest problem, and at one point we were not sure that our engine had survived one of its dunkings. But it started again and kept on going, taking us in to anchor outside the channel across from the Old Point Comfort Marina.
Old Point Comfort is home to Fort Monroe, the third oldest continuously operating military installation in the United States and site of the largest stone fort in the U.S. Visiting is an interesting experience. The marina is for military and Depart of Defense personnel, but the boat ramp, fuel dock and restaurant, as well as the Fort and the surrounding area are open to the public (anyone wanting to enter by road must show photo identification). Being anchored there gave us a good opportunity to visit the fort and its Casemate Museum, and we walked past the elegant Chamberlin Hotel, now reborn as an independent living apartment community, along the seawall and along quiet streets with nicely maintained historic buildings. We enjoyed the Casemate Museum, which presents the history of the fort using a nice variety of exhibits, and were lucky enough to hear part of the presentation to a tour of military personnel. There’s always something interesting to be learned from a knowledgeable guide.
We enjoyed visiting with our friends, who helped us get around and find what we needed. Then they were off to do other things and the wind and weather were changing. We decided to move to more sheltered anchorage in Hampton, across from the Hampton Public Piers, between Hampton University and downtown. The last time we had been there it was crowded - it was far from crowded when we arrived, though the anchorage did start to fill up the next day. We found ourselves a good spot just outside the channel, and settled in for a few days.
A trip ashore showed us that things were much as they had been last time we were here. Free wi-fi on the docks, access to washrooms (free) and showers (payment required), and friendly helpful staff. Happily we had been to the grocery store with one of our friends - there are only convenience stores close by. The laundromat was a brisk walk away, across the bridge by the anchorage; we shared it with several Hampton University students, who helped us figure out the oddities of some of the machines. There was not enough time to linger around the art galleries or re-visit the Cousteau Museum - or to visit the Virginia Air and Space Center, or explore further. So yet again - we want to go back when we have more time. And before we go we’ll download the iPod tours the city has developed, which are an interesting concept and well-suited to the kind of exploring we like to do.
Laundry and grocery done, we were ready when Herb of Southbound II said there might be another weather window. Early in the morning on our third day we started the engine, picked up the anchor, and set off out into the bay, heading seaward again.
So we consulted our charts and chose our course to an anchorage in Old Point Comfort. We were close to the bay’s entrance when the wind dropped, leaving us trying to coax the boat to get closer while the tide and current were still favorable. Finally we had to admit it was either take many more hours that we wanted to to get there, or turn once again to our trusty motor. So we started our motor and travelled slowly into and up the bay, keeping an eye out for ships and barges as we went and for any large power boats creating large wakes that might swamp the engine (Not every large powerboat is so thoughtlessly driven - so this is a good time to thank those skippers who are considerate and knowledgeable enough to pass smaller boats and sailboats gently). In the end it was the powerboat wakes that were the greatest problem, and at one point we were not sure that our engine had survived one of its dunkings. But it started again and kept on going, taking us in to anchor outside the channel across from the Old Point Comfort Marina.
Old Point Comfort is home to Fort Monroe, the third oldest continuously operating military installation in the United States and site of the largest stone fort in the U.S. Visiting is an interesting experience. The marina is for military and Depart of Defense personnel, but the boat ramp, fuel dock and restaurant, as well as the Fort and the surrounding area are open to the public (anyone wanting to enter by road must show photo identification). Being anchored there gave us a good opportunity to visit the fort and its Casemate Museum, and we walked past the elegant Chamberlin Hotel, now reborn as an independent living apartment community, along the seawall and along quiet streets with nicely maintained historic buildings. We enjoyed the Casemate Museum, which presents the history of the fort using a nice variety of exhibits, and were lucky enough to hear part of the presentation to a tour of military personnel. There’s always something interesting to be learned from a knowledgeable guide.
We enjoyed visiting with our friends, who helped us get around and find what we needed. Then they were off to do other things and the wind and weather were changing. We decided to move to more sheltered anchorage in Hampton, across from the Hampton Public Piers, between Hampton University and downtown. The last time we had been there it was crowded - it was far from crowded when we arrived, though the anchorage did start to fill up the next day. We found ourselves a good spot just outside the channel, and settled in for a few days.
A trip ashore showed us that things were much as they had been last time we were here. Free wi-fi on the docks, access to washrooms (free) and showers (payment required), and friendly helpful staff. Happily we had been to the grocery store with one of our friends - there are only convenience stores close by. The laundromat was a brisk walk away, across the bridge by the anchorage; we shared it with several Hampton University students, who helped us figure out the oddities of some of the machines. There was not enough time to linger around the art galleries or re-visit the Cousteau Museum - or to visit the Virginia Air and Space Center, or explore further. So yet again - we want to go back when we have more time. And before we go we’ll download the iPod tours the city has developed, which are an interesting concept and well-suited to the kind of exploring we like to do.
Laundry and grocery done, we were ready when Herb of Southbound II said there might be another weather window. Early in the morning on our third day we started the engine, picked up the anchor, and set off out into the bay, heading seaward again.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
April in Beaufort, NC
Large motor yachts were heading north, stopping at the Beaufort Town Docks on the way.
Spring brings a lushness to the trees and plants along the roads.
Spring flowers...
The Beaufort dinghy dock where we tied our dinghy up to go to shore, and a little beach where small boats are beached and launched.
Looking out from the boat over the anchorage at sunset.
For those who are interested: Our trusty little engine on its bracket. You can see where the bracket that allows the engine move up and down is attached to the deck behind the cockpit; the tube coming forward from the bracket helps to keep the engine in place when it is running.
Belle Isle SC to Beaufort NC
We left Belle Isle when the tide was high and the current low, following the marked channel from the marina into Winyah Bay. The outboard, on its unusual bracket, functioned well enough to get us the nine miles down Winyah Bay to the outlet, though we did have to take evasive action to make sure that it did not submerge, drown, and stop when the occasional large power boats failed to slow down, leaving us to deal with the high wake it left behind. We put our sails up, just in case our little motor was affected, but all went well if slowly.
Finally we sailed out through the inlet, unfurling the jib and pulling the engine up to the rail as the swells grew larger and set our course for Beaufort, North Carolina. Dolphins came to visit us on our second day out, hunting with concentration around the boat, powerful and graceful. A bird cried, loon-like, intermittently through our second night out. The first night was full of stars, the moon only a late rising sliver; the second night most of our light was the ambient light from the shore, reflecting off the clouds.
The weather window looked as if would last a couple of days, and it almost did. We were either on a broad reach or sailing with the wind behind us all the way - a beautiful couple of days of sailing, until we got close to the Beaufort inlet. Then, just to remind us that sailing has its challenges as well as its rewards, we were hit by a squall as we waited outside the inlet for the right conditions to enter. We were hove to waiting for the tide to change when a big blast of wind and heavy shower of rain hit. They passed and shortly after, anticipating the comforts of shelter, we got ready to enter the channel.
The tide and wind were still opposing each other as we started to sail in, and in the outer part of the channel lumpy, sometimes breaking seas rose behind us. To one side the water grew rapidly shallower, and the water on that side rose in breaking waves as it approached the coast. We stayed as close to the other side of the channel as we could, taking advantage of the smoother water there even as the sound of surf echoed in our ears, and sailed on into the flat water between the outlying islands. Then we could drop the engine again, douse our sails, and motor slowly in to the anchorage at Beaufort.
The wind we were coming in to let pass came in with us, so we dropped one anchor, then drifted back with the tide and dropped another. With lessons learned from the last time we anchored here, we used our Danforth with rope rode for the second anchor because it was easy to check for twisting and easy to undo and untwist if necessary. Then we settled in to get a little sleep after tidying ourselves and the boat. Except for checking in with the Southbound II net, the rest of the day was a lazy day - time to rest and relax before we started our round of in-the-anchorage jobs.
After our time off the boat and the installation of the engine and its bracket this part of the journey was like a shakedown cruise. A look at the way the trip had gone suggested a few improvements that needed to be made. A bumper for the outboard bracket that would keep it well aligned and at the same time protect the hull was highest on the list. Richard fashioned that one using rope (always a lot of that around) and tape. Then there were the bow lights to be fixed - we had checked them before leaving, but found under way that they were only functioning intermittently. Then there were the few things that had moved and needed to be better stowed.
On shore, we returned to Taylor’s Big Mug in search of coffee (fair-trade, and very good) and wi-fi. Right across from the Beaufort Town Docks, this is a great place to spend some time, especially on a rainy day. In season they sell tasty lunchtime sandwiches freshly made to order, and there are games, books, magazines and papers to entertain yourself with on a rainy day. Brochures, notices, newsletters and cards are a good source of local information, and you can pick up “This Week” if you are interested in local events. With a little persuasion they might even start a book swap that cruisers could take advantage of. Then we did laundry in the laundromat behind the General Store - if you can have a favourite laundromat, this is one of ours. And of course walked up to the Piggly Wiggly for groceries.
Beaufort at this time of year seemed a little quieter than the last time we passed through. We saw school groups touring the harbour, visiting the North Carolina Maritime Museum and exploring the waterfront - historic sites are never very far away here. Some cruising boats came and went, most passing through on their way up the ICW, many of them headed home after a winter in warmer climes. They were able to keep travelling, but since our little engine was not meant to push us for hours along rivers and canals we stayed put and waited for our next weather window. While they traveled we enjoyed Beaufort, revisiting Taylor’s Big Mug and walking along Front Street past the stores and restaurants and grand old houses. Fewer customers in the cafe and for sale signs suggested that the recession has affected life here too, but the sunshine and warmer temperatures were bringing people out to enjoy the waterfront, some of the local tour boats were active, and a quick check of the free weekly events listings showed that there was lots going on. And local boaters and sailors were active, including one friend who blazed past us in his Laser dinghy on a windy day.
Birds were active as well, feeding and calling. We passed seabirds feeding in the tumbling surf on our way in, and saw pelicans floating where the water grew quieter. Our first morning we woke to a chorus of bird voices from a group of small birds which had congregated on the lifelines of our boat. Dolphins came in to the anchorage to prospect for food, and Richard saw a turtle following the anchor chain up when he went to check the anchor. Wild horses could be seen feeding on seaside grasses on the islands that shelter the anchorage. In town the trees were in leaf and flowers bloomed.
But we had to keep moving on, and as soon as a window of good weather offered we pulled our anchors up and set out again. Our little engine soldiered on through wakes from sport fishing boats racing out the inlet, propelling us out till we could lift it from the water and start sailing again. Next stop - Chesapeake Bay.
Finally we sailed out through the inlet, unfurling the jib and pulling the engine up to the rail as the swells grew larger and set our course for Beaufort, North Carolina. Dolphins came to visit us on our second day out, hunting with concentration around the boat, powerful and graceful. A bird cried, loon-like, intermittently through our second night out. The first night was full of stars, the moon only a late rising sliver; the second night most of our light was the ambient light from the shore, reflecting off the clouds.
The weather window looked as if would last a couple of days, and it almost did. We were either on a broad reach or sailing with the wind behind us all the way - a beautiful couple of days of sailing, until we got close to the Beaufort inlet. Then, just to remind us that sailing has its challenges as well as its rewards, we were hit by a squall as we waited outside the inlet for the right conditions to enter. We were hove to waiting for the tide to change when a big blast of wind and heavy shower of rain hit. They passed and shortly after, anticipating the comforts of shelter, we got ready to enter the channel.
The tide and wind were still opposing each other as we started to sail in, and in the outer part of the channel lumpy, sometimes breaking seas rose behind us. To one side the water grew rapidly shallower, and the water on that side rose in breaking waves as it approached the coast. We stayed as close to the other side of the channel as we could, taking advantage of the smoother water there even as the sound of surf echoed in our ears, and sailed on into the flat water between the outlying islands. Then we could drop the engine again, douse our sails, and motor slowly in to the anchorage at Beaufort.
The wind we were coming in to let pass came in with us, so we dropped one anchor, then drifted back with the tide and dropped another. With lessons learned from the last time we anchored here, we used our Danforth with rope rode for the second anchor because it was easy to check for twisting and easy to undo and untwist if necessary. Then we settled in to get a little sleep after tidying ourselves and the boat. Except for checking in with the Southbound II net, the rest of the day was a lazy day - time to rest and relax before we started our round of in-the-anchorage jobs.
After our time off the boat and the installation of the engine and its bracket this part of the journey was like a shakedown cruise. A look at the way the trip had gone suggested a few improvements that needed to be made. A bumper for the outboard bracket that would keep it well aligned and at the same time protect the hull was highest on the list. Richard fashioned that one using rope (always a lot of that around) and tape. Then there were the bow lights to be fixed - we had checked them before leaving, but found under way that they were only functioning intermittently. Then there were the few things that had moved and needed to be better stowed.
On shore, we returned to Taylor’s Big Mug in search of coffee (fair-trade, and very good) and wi-fi. Right across from the Beaufort Town Docks, this is a great place to spend some time, especially on a rainy day. In season they sell tasty lunchtime sandwiches freshly made to order, and there are games, books, magazines and papers to entertain yourself with on a rainy day. Brochures, notices, newsletters and cards are a good source of local information, and you can pick up “This Week” if you are interested in local events. With a little persuasion they might even start a book swap that cruisers could take advantage of. Then we did laundry in the laundromat behind the General Store - if you can have a favourite laundromat, this is one of ours. And of course walked up to the Piggly Wiggly for groceries.
Beaufort at this time of year seemed a little quieter than the last time we passed through. We saw school groups touring the harbour, visiting the North Carolina Maritime Museum and exploring the waterfront - historic sites are never very far away here. Some cruising boats came and went, most passing through on their way up the ICW, many of them headed home after a winter in warmer climes. They were able to keep travelling, but since our little engine was not meant to push us for hours along rivers and canals we stayed put and waited for our next weather window. While they traveled we enjoyed Beaufort, revisiting Taylor’s Big Mug and walking along Front Street past the stores and restaurants and grand old houses. Fewer customers in the cafe and for sale signs suggested that the recession has affected life here too, but the sunshine and warmer temperatures were bringing people out to enjoy the waterfront, some of the local tour boats were active, and a quick check of the free weekly events listings showed that there was lots going on. And local boaters and sailors were active, including one friend who blazed past us in his Laser dinghy on a windy day.
Birds were active as well, feeding and calling. We passed seabirds feeding in the tumbling surf on our way in, and saw pelicans floating where the water grew quieter. Our first morning we woke to a chorus of bird voices from a group of small birds which had congregated on the lifelines of our boat. Dolphins came in to the anchorage to prospect for food, and Richard saw a turtle following the anchor chain up when he went to check the anchor. Wild horses could be seen feeding on seaside grasses on the islands that shelter the anchorage. In town the trees were in leaf and flowers bloomed.
But we had to keep moving on, and as soon as a window of good weather offered we pulled our anchors up and set out again. Our little engine soldiered on through wakes from sport fishing boats racing out the inlet, propelling us out till we could lift it from the water and start sailing again. Next stop - Chesapeake Bay.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Back to Winter, Halifax NS
One of those days when ice-coated trees glitter in the sun.
Looking out across Porters Lake, snow on the trees and ice on the water...
Running water - a sign that Spring is on the way? A person could hope!
More snow and ice, and trees waiting for Spring - this time Lake Banook in Dartmouth.
Cold and windy...
After Belle Isle - Life Off Into The Blue
With Into The Blue safely at the dock in Belle Isle Marina, we traveled south to Florida, our original destination, and time with family. The journey was an interesting one, the first time we had traveled by Greyhound and a learning experience all in itself. Many different kinds of people travel on the bus, and the one thing they have in common is the desire to get to where they are going without spending too much money. Young and old, people going to jobs, leaving lost jobs, returning to family, just going somewhere else, dressed up and dressed down, all traveling together for hours more or less comfortably. There were conversations, jokes, part of a movie shared until someone's laptop ran out of battery. There was the bus driver with the beautifully manicured nails holding conversations on her handsfree phone; the one who had to stop at McDonald's to grab dinner; the new driver wanting to show his authority. There was the time the bus went on to the rumble strips by the highway and every dozing passenger woke up to call out to the bus driver, voices coming from every part of the bus. We arrived at our destination tired, grubby and happy to have made it.
Mid-January saw us driving up from Miami, Florida to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Not quite the way we had planned to return, a road trip in a car not quite ready for winter driving, but we made it safely. Friends to stay with, along the way and when we got to Halifax, and work to go back to, eased our return and made it possible to start planning how to bring Into The Blue back to Halifax as well. We had a little time, a couple of months of snow and cold to plan and gather what we needed before the weather would be warm enough to bring the boat back. Timing revolved around the need to move her from the marina during April and making sure we had the resources we needed.
This meant spending a part of winter in Halifax. So what does a boater do in the winter, when they are far away from the boat they usually live on? They go to the nearest boat show, of course. One of the pleasures of going to a boat show is coming across interesting new things you have not seen before. The Halifax Boat Show may not be huge, but it does have its share of thing that catch the eye.
The first thing we noticed was an anchor recovery system called Anchor Rescue. Every cruiser who’s spent much time on the hook knows that awful moment when the bow of the boat dips and the anchor that should be coming up nicely refuses to budge. This is most likely to happen in the kind of water you have no desire to dive into, or when the anchor is at a depth beyond the range of your lungs.
AnchorRescue is the kind of system we wished we had had, would like to have, in exactly those kinds of circumstances. It has two very appealing features. First it is very simple - part of the system is on your anchor and ready when you need it, the other part is easily stored and lowered down the anchor rode only when needed - and the whole thing has been designed to be easy to use.
A slider around the anchor chain is tethered to the crown of the anchor, and the chain that tethers it held out of the way with wraps. When you need to pull on the crown of your anchor to release to release it, you simply slide the weighted retriever down down your anchor chain until it engages with the slider and pull. The slider moves up the anchor chain, breaking the ties that hold the tether out of the way, pulls on the crown - and voila, you’re lifting the head of the anchor away from whatever is obstructing it. Neat. They have a web site where you can learn more, if you’re interested.
The next thing to catch our eye was a fibreglass, semi-translucent propane tank, sitting on display in Capt. Shrink’s booth. We don’t have propane on board, hope not to - but we were curious. Seems the price is midway between those for steel and aluminum cylinders. Most attractive features? No more corrosion worries, very long-lasting and you can see the level of propane inside the tank. Another product we found interesting, if rather pricey for our budget, is the Torqueedo folding electric outboard with an integrated battery. It looks very easy to use - you can simply stick it on the back of your dinghy or small boat and not have to worry about carrying/storing a separate battery or dealing with connections.
Then there were products we had seen before but took time to take a look at again, like the Webasto heaters - definitely a step up from our present fireplace, and something we are seriously considering in these cold waters. And the Klepper folding kayaks from Germany, beautifully and ruggedly designed. If only we could think of a good reason we needed one. Then we stopped to look at and ask questions about the inboard diesels on display - the boat show being a great place to compare and contrast and ask questions.
The bad part? The show reminded us there’s more than one reason they say a boat is a hole in the water into which you throw money...
Mid-January saw us driving up from Miami, Florida to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Not quite the way we had planned to return, a road trip in a car not quite ready for winter driving, but we made it safely. Friends to stay with, along the way and when we got to Halifax, and work to go back to, eased our return and made it possible to start planning how to bring Into The Blue back to Halifax as well. We had a little time, a couple of months of snow and cold to plan and gather what we needed before the weather would be warm enough to bring the boat back. Timing revolved around the need to move her from the marina during April and making sure we had the resources we needed.
This meant spending a part of winter in Halifax. So what does a boater do in the winter, when they are far away from the boat they usually live on? They go to the nearest boat show, of course. One of the pleasures of going to a boat show is coming across interesting new things you have not seen before. The Halifax Boat Show may not be huge, but it does have its share of thing that catch the eye.
The first thing we noticed was an anchor recovery system called Anchor Rescue. Every cruiser who’s spent much time on the hook knows that awful moment when the bow of the boat dips and the anchor that should be coming up nicely refuses to budge. This is most likely to happen in the kind of water you have no desire to dive into, or when the anchor is at a depth beyond the range of your lungs.
AnchorRescue is the kind of system we wished we had had, would like to have, in exactly those kinds of circumstances. It has two very appealing features. First it is very simple - part of the system is on your anchor and ready when you need it, the other part is easily stored and lowered down the anchor rode only when needed - and the whole thing has been designed to be easy to use.
A slider around the anchor chain is tethered to the crown of the anchor, and the chain that tethers it held out of the way with wraps. When you need to pull on the crown of your anchor to release to release it, you simply slide the weighted retriever down down your anchor chain until it engages with the slider and pull. The slider moves up the anchor chain, breaking the ties that hold the tether out of the way, pulls on the crown - and voila, you’re lifting the head of the anchor away from whatever is obstructing it. Neat. They have a web site where you can learn more, if you’re interested.
The next thing to catch our eye was a fibreglass, semi-translucent propane tank, sitting on display in Capt. Shrink’s booth. We don’t have propane on board, hope not to - but we were curious. Seems the price is midway between those for steel and aluminum cylinders. Most attractive features? No more corrosion worries, very long-lasting and you can see the level of propane inside the tank. Another product we found interesting, if rather pricey for our budget, is the Torqueedo folding electric outboard with an integrated battery. It looks very easy to use - you can simply stick it on the back of your dinghy or small boat and not have to worry about carrying/storing a separate battery or dealing with connections.
Then there were products we had seen before but took time to take a look at again, like the Webasto heaters - definitely a step up from our present fireplace, and something we are seriously considering in these cold waters. And the Klepper folding kayaks from Germany, beautifully and ruggedly designed. If only we could think of a good reason we needed one. Then we stopped to look at and ask questions about the inboard diesels on display - the boat show being a great place to compare and contrast and ask questions.
The bad part? The show reminded us there’s more than one reason they say a boat is a hole in the water into which you throw money...
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Pictures from Beaufort, North Carolina
The moorings and anchorage in Beaufort North Carolina.
Wood work with character - we passed this display whenever we walked to and from the Piggly Wiggly grocery store.
Taylor's Big Mug on Front Street, a popular spot for cruisers and locals. A welcoming feel, interesting art, good coffee, great sandwiches and free wi-fi.
At the dock - the view from the porthole.
November 2008, Part 1: Cape May
You could say that November 2008 was in interesting month, on our calendar at least. But we did not know that when we set out.
We finally had the right weather window to leave Martha’s Vineyard, so we dropped our mooring and left the anchorage on a cool, blustery day, picking up the tide as we sailed down the eastern side of the island and towards Cape May. Winds eased then built again as we travelled, and we found ourselves preparing to enter the channel with reefed main and furled jib on a windy, grey day. Even the waters looked grey.
We sailed in as a coast guard cutter was leaving, keeping well to the right of the channel to allow it to pass before we tried to find a space in the many sport fishing boats cruising through to cross to the anchorage.
There were more boats there than we had anticipated, and manoeuvring was not as easy as normal with the mainsail reefed, but we dropped anchor on the inside of the other boats there, and then for safety we dropped another. The night passed without incident, and many of the other boats left come morning. We sat tight, waiting for the bad weather we knew was coming.
The day was spent as it often is, doing a bit of mending this and fixing that. The first night would be quiet, so we picked our second anchor up and swung gently to the first through the night. As the wind picked up the next day we dropped it again. Initial weather reports predicted no more than 30 knots, so we were watchful but not anxious.
As the day passed the wind built. A couple of other boats that had been anchored moved in to marinas. By the time we knew that the winds would be closer to 40 or 50 knots there were only three of us in the anchorage.
Late in the afternoon we noticed another boat moving, and hailed him on the radio. He re-anchored further out. We stayed put - for a while. Darkness was falling when we found ourselves moving too - towards the rocks between the two old jetties off the coast guard facility.
We scrambled. Foul weather gear pulled on but not done up, I worked the jib, trying to keep us off the rocks. Richard on the bow tried to get the anchors up. He got one up; the remaining one was still holding us every time we tried to move away from the rocks, and dragging every time we were pulled around toward them. The anchor was almost off the bottom when we found ourselves too close to be able to sail off.
With the keel rubbing the rocks on the bottom, Richard grabbed the ... pole and held the stern off the rocks. Inside on the radio I could hear every time we touched. I talked to the coast guard - they talked to us, seemingly with no sense of the urgency we felt. All we wanted or needed was to get off those rocks - where we would go after that was something we didn’t have time to consider.
The coast guard and I worked our way through the script - how many on board, any children, any health problems, did we have life jackets on, were we taking on water. Not yet, I said. The boat we had talked to earlier came on to plead our case for immediate help. The coast guard announced that they would have a team there in ten minutes. Then they announced that of course they would be there to help us, but were not allowed to help pull our boat off the rocks. In desperation, I called SeaTow.
It took what felt like forever for them to get there. In the meantime someone on the road that passed right by us asked if we had called in. Shortly after that three young coast guard men arrived, shone a bright light on us, and assessed our situation. One, in the water, checked for visible damage. Then, to our great relief, he came on board and helped Richard hold the boat off the rocks while I stayed at the radio. That act of kindness certainly helped us that night. After that it was a matter of listening to the keel bump and waiting for SeaTow.
The young men on SeaTow wasted no time once they got there. We clipped a line to our anchor chain, and in short order we were moving off the rocks. What a relief. Then it was time to figure out where to go. The wind was gusting at at least 40 knots, it was dark, we and the inside of the boat were rain-soaked. We needed a marina, but had no clue where we could be towed in to. We told them the situation, and left the final decision about where to go up to them.
They towed us away from the anchorage through a bridge and to a dock we could barely see. Then they spent long minutes trying to wrestle our boat to the dock against wind and tide. By the time they were done we had six lines tied to different points. Then it was time to sign papers, arrange payment and try to find a way to sleep. The next day it would be time to actually see where we were.
The wind was still blowing the next morning, pushing the boat hard away from the dock. The dock was part of a small and friendly marina, Two Mile Landing, off a quiet channel, which happened to have space. It was officially closed for renovations, but we were able to stay and, even more important, we were able to plug in and use our electric heater to try and dry ourselves and our clothes and our boat out. And there we stayed for another day.
When it was time to leave we decided it would be prudent to take another tow to get past the bridge, which we could now see was narrow. We arranged a tow for slack, and left the next day to take advantage of the next weather window. Our destination, so far as we could decide on a destination when sailing, was Chesapeake. There we might be able to make more progress with the boat engine - nothing for it in Cape May - and also meet one of the couples from the Cruiseheimer’s Net.
A digression: The Cruiseheimer’s Net is a morning net which unites cruisers up and down the east coast and beyond. As well as friendly greetings, useful bits of news and friendly announcements, this group helped us as much as they could with advice and ideas. You can find them on SSB radio at 08:30 US Eastern time, on 6.227.0 USB during the winter and 8.152.0 USB during the summer.
We finally had the right weather window to leave Martha’s Vineyard, so we dropped our mooring and left the anchorage on a cool, blustery day, picking up the tide as we sailed down the eastern side of the island and towards Cape May. Winds eased then built again as we travelled, and we found ourselves preparing to enter the channel with reefed main and furled jib on a windy, grey day. Even the waters looked grey.
We sailed in as a coast guard cutter was leaving, keeping well to the right of the channel to allow it to pass before we tried to find a space in the many sport fishing boats cruising through to cross to the anchorage.
There were more boats there than we had anticipated, and manoeuvring was not as easy as normal with the mainsail reefed, but we dropped anchor on the inside of the other boats there, and then for safety we dropped another. The night passed without incident, and many of the other boats left come morning. We sat tight, waiting for the bad weather we knew was coming.
The day was spent as it often is, doing a bit of mending this and fixing that. The first night would be quiet, so we picked our second anchor up and swung gently to the first through the night. As the wind picked up the next day we dropped it again. Initial weather reports predicted no more than 30 knots, so we were watchful but not anxious.
As the day passed the wind built. A couple of other boats that had been anchored moved in to marinas. By the time we knew that the winds would be closer to 40 or 50 knots there were only three of us in the anchorage.
Late in the afternoon we noticed another boat moving, and hailed him on the radio. He re-anchored further out. We stayed put - for a while. Darkness was falling when we found ourselves moving too - towards the rocks between the two old jetties off the coast guard facility.
We scrambled. Foul weather gear pulled on but not done up, I worked the jib, trying to keep us off the rocks. Richard on the bow tried to get the anchors up. He got one up; the remaining one was still holding us every time we tried to move away from the rocks, and dragging every time we were pulled around toward them. The anchor was almost off the bottom when we found ourselves too close to be able to sail off.
With the keel rubbing the rocks on the bottom, Richard grabbed the ... pole and held the stern off the rocks. Inside on the radio I could hear every time we touched. I talked to the coast guard - they talked to us, seemingly with no sense of the urgency we felt. All we wanted or needed was to get off those rocks - where we would go after that was something we didn’t have time to consider.
The coast guard and I worked our way through the script - how many on board, any children, any health problems, did we have life jackets on, were we taking on water. Not yet, I said. The boat we had talked to earlier came on to plead our case for immediate help. The coast guard announced that they would have a team there in ten minutes. Then they announced that of course they would be there to help us, but were not allowed to help pull our boat off the rocks. In desperation, I called SeaTow.
It took what felt like forever for them to get there. In the meantime someone on the road that passed right by us asked if we had called in. Shortly after that three young coast guard men arrived, shone a bright light on us, and assessed our situation. One, in the water, checked for visible damage. Then, to our great relief, he came on board and helped Richard hold the boat off the rocks while I stayed at the radio. That act of kindness certainly helped us that night. After that it was a matter of listening to the keel bump and waiting for SeaTow.
The young men on SeaTow wasted no time once they got there. We clipped a line to our anchor chain, and in short order we were moving off the rocks. What a relief. Then it was time to figure out where to go. The wind was gusting at at least 40 knots, it was dark, we and the inside of the boat were rain-soaked. We needed a marina, but had no clue where we could be towed in to. We told them the situation, and left the final decision about where to go up to them.
They towed us away from the anchorage through a bridge and to a dock we could barely see. Then they spent long minutes trying to wrestle our boat to the dock against wind and tide. By the time they were done we had six lines tied to different points. Then it was time to sign papers, arrange payment and try to find a way to sleep. The next day it would be time to actually see where we were.
The wind was still blowing the next morning, pushing the boat hard away from the dock. The dock was part of a small and friendly marina, Two Mile Landing, off a quiet channel, which happened to have space. It was officially closed for renovations, but we were able to stay and, even more important, we were able to plug in and use our electric heater to try and dry ourselves and our clothes and our boat out. And there we stayed for another day.
When it was time to leave we decided it would be prudent to take another tow to get past the bridge, which we could now see was narrow. We arranged a tow for slack, and left the next day to take advantage of the next weather window. Our destination, so far as we could decide on a destination when sailing, was Chesapeake. There we might be able to make more progress with the boat engine - nothing for it in Cape May - and also meet one of the couples from the Cruiseheimer’s Net.
A digression: The Cruiseheimer’s Net is a morning net which unites cruisers up and down the east coast and beyond. As well as friendly greetings, useful bits of news and friendly announcements, this group helped us as much as they could with advice and ideas. You can find them on SSB radio at 08:30 US Eastern time, on 6.227.0 USB during the winter and 8.152.0 USB during the summer.
Pictures from Belle Isle, South Carolina
Looking out from the Belle Isle Marina restaurant toward Winyah Bay on a quiet day. Sometimes the view included boats on their way south traveling along the ICW.
Looking past the pond behind the marina, on one of those sunny day when the light glitters on the water. You can barely see one of the trees that grows out of the pond itself.
There are houses half-hidden in the trees. At night we would see their lights, illuminating them and making their presence more obvious than during the day.
Another still day, looking out of the marina toward Winyah bay.
November 2008, Part 2: Beaufort, NC to Belle Isle
Between Cape May and Beaufort lie the Hatteras and Frying Pan Shoals. All shoals must be treated with respect, and we are always glad when we thread our way between one more shoal and the Gulf Stream. So when we found ourselves off Chesapeake with light winds from the south turning to stronger winds from the north west - not the best winds to enter Chesapeake Bay as we had planned - we decided to use the opportunity to work our way past these two.
Except for a brief brush with the steep waves on the edge of the Gulf Stream as we skirted Hatteras we had good sailing to the Beaufort channel. We had looked at the chart, and decided that with the wind from the direction we had there would only be one tricky part to navigate and we should be able to sail in handily at slack. Our timing was good, and we sailed into the inlet and along the channel - watched as we tacked quickly back and forth through the one tricky area by an interested group standing on some docks outside what looked like a waterside condominium.
We sailed into the anchorage, and found much of the anchoring area off the channel filled with moorings. Fortunately for us one boat that had been anchored was leaving. The sailor aboard called to us that his was a good spot, so we sailed further up the channel while we waited for him to raise his anchor and take his leave. We should have been warned when we saw that his chain was well wrapped around his anchor, and that it took several good shakes to work the chain free.
We dropped our anchor close to where his had been. Then, knowing that another blow was on the way, we put out our second anchor down current. When all seemed well we assembled and offloaded the dinghy and rowed to the dinghy dock before the afternoon grew too late. We needed to buy bread and find the laundry, showers and wi-fi we had been told were nearby. As we walked back to the dinghy dock along the town docks we saw a boat we knew, Maggy Fields and found our friend Gord aboard. For those who might not know, Gord was the previous owner of our boat, and buying our beautiful boat from him came with the added bonus of finding a good friend.
Those first days in Beaufort were busy. We sat happily on the hook, going ashore to try and find parts for the engine, do shopping, shower, do laundry, visit the Taylor’s Big Mug coffee shop and enjoy their coffee and wi-fi access. We had a very nice lunch there with Gord. Then we met other cruisers in the nice, clean laundry behind the General Store who had also run aground in Cape May, the weekend before we did. We exchanged tales and experiences, as everyone talked we came to the conclusion that the area we had anchored in should not be considered a good anchorage for bad weather conditions - anchors seem to hold well close to the channel, but not closer to the jetties and shore.
As in Cape May, so in Beaufort. We noticed that there were places where anchors held well, and others where they did not. In one blow we noticed a boat next to us going in circles - it looked as if the anchor was dragging and catching, dragging and catching. We put out a third anchor to hold ourselves out of that boat’s way until the sailor aboard decided to let the rest of the blow pass in the shelter of the town marina. As it turned out, that was probably a very good thing.
When the next weather window - a very short one - appeared we decided to move on, and try reach the Masonboro Inlet. Gord was planning to leave the same day, and we hoped to meet him again at Wrightsville Beach. Before slack that afternoon we began to get ourselves ready to go. We took up the third anchor we had put out, then took our dinghy apart and stowed it on board. Then we did what we normally do - started to take up our second anchor before we put the mainsail up to sail off. Problem was, as we discovered after, we were actually pulling up both anchors at the same time.
We thought the boat newly anchored not far from us was dragging. They saw quickly that we were the one dragging, and they also saw why. Our anchor chains were well-wrapped around each other where they could see them but we could not. They had probably become tangled around each other when the tide, wind and current were low and the boat circled around the slack chains. We are very grateful to the sailors on Sojourn for helping us through what happened next . They took our lines and helped us raft alongside; then they helped us untangle the anchor chains and get the anchors up and stowed before walking us around their boat to a position where we could sail off. We had no main up, and were too close to raise it safely, so it was a matter of letting go the jib and pulling in the sheets at the right time. With Richard at the helm and me handling the jib and sheets and doing a little fending off, we were underway.
But more was to come. Looking back, it seems we just weren’t meant to leave that day. We still had to get the main up, which meant turning into the wind with the jib flapping. Then, main up, we tried to pull off the wind so we could sail down the channel and the jib sheet fouled on our whisker pole, stored along the lifelines. We got that free, got a little speed up, and tried to tack away from the shore - and the jib sheet fouled again, this time in the mooring chock. Then the jib wrapped wrong way around the front stay and became immovable. There just was not enough space or time to free the jib by furling it, free up the sheet and get sailing again - we went gently aground between two private docks.
Now what? There was a man working aboard a large power boat at one of the docks - someone else whose help we really appreciated - and he took time to help us get a line first to the boat he was on and then to the dock that boat was attached to. With his help we were able to winch the boat back into deeper water and then to the head of the dock. Slack was now well past, so we sat there while we considered our situation and our next move. And radioed Gord to wish him a safe voyage and let him know that we would not be leaving that day.
After some talk and consultation with the man who had helped us Richard hopped off the boat and went to see the owner of the dock. He found a former sailor and cruiser who was happy to let us stay there while we made yet another stab at fixing the engine as well as some of the damage our anchor rollers had sustained when we were towed off the rocks in Cape May. Once again we worked away and waited through heavy weather and light days for the next weather window.
The next several days were spent talking to other sailors and various businesses as we tried to track down parts - we found the folk at Coastal Diesel Service very helpful. And becoming better acquainted with the very helpful staff at the town dock. Beaufort is one of those towns that is good to cruisers, where many people are both welcoming and helpful. A wonderful place to visit - but with the weather becoming colder not a place to linger. So we kept the boat stocked, Richard worked on the engine and even got it to run for a while, and we kept an eye on the weather...
It was close to the end of November by the time the next weather window came along. The engine was not functioning reliably, so we opted for a tow out of the inlet when the tide was slack. We called a little ahead of time and the towboat arrived before we were quite ready, in spite of being asked to wait - which left us scrambling to finish our last minute jobs and increased the time we had to pay for. Then we were towed out, past the shoals we had not had time to look at on the way in and a small fishing boat that refused to clear the channel and forced us toward shallow water. Finally we were out of the inlet, free of our tow, putting up sails, and coaxing the boat away from the coast in light north winds, finally under way again.
The winds did not stay out of the north for very long. What should have been a short sail to Winyah Bay stretched out for an extra day and a half as we sailed into light winds on the nose. On our last night the rain descended as Richard sat in the cockpit, coaxing the boat to keep moving forward. As day dawned and we approached the inlet - having missed another slack time we could enter on - he was wet, tired and very cold. We hove-to and took a little time to consider our options.
Entering with too little wind to counteract the current was not one of them. This was the calm before the storm, and another system was on its way - so continuing down the coast to the next inlet we could enter did not look like a good option either. Finally we decided to request a tow in and spend a few days at a marina while we considered what to do next.
We chose Belle Isle marina out of one of the guides we had with us, mostly because it sounded like a good place for a smaller boat. As it turned out, it was also the closest to the inlet entrance, even though it was more than an hours tow away. Best of all, it turned out to be a beautiful, hospitable spot, with a marsh full of wildlife and birds and a gently rolling, treed landscape, and a dock master who was both efficient and kind. We had found a good place to pause and reflect.
It was now the end of November, and we had hoped to be in Miami already. But weather windows for travelling down the coast had been short and not always suitable for a boat which was travelling down the outside and having to choose very carefully which inlets to use. The month had been an expensive one, what with tows, paying salvage for being towed off the rocks and searching for engine parts. As we warmed and dried out the boat we talked about where to go from here.
For family reasons we still needed to get to Florida, and do it before Christmas. For financial reasons we needed to earn some more money. After phone calls and consultations we booked seats on the Greyhound to Fort Lauderdale, and arranged for the boat to stay safely tucked in at Belle Isle. The plan: A month or so in Florida, and then back to Nova Scotia to work, with a month off in April to return to South Carolina, mount a bracket and outboard to use as temporary auxiliary power, and bring the boat back to be hauled and refitted in Nova Scotia.
Except for a brief brush with the steep waves on the edge of the Gulf Stream as we skirted Hatteras we had good sailing to the Beaufort channel. We had looked at the chart, and decided that with the wind from the direction we had there would only be one tricky part to navigate and we should be able to sail in handily at slack. Our timing was good, and we sailed into the inlet and along the channel - watched as we tacked quickly back and forth through the one tricky area by an interested group standing on some docks outside what looked like a waterside condominium.
We sailed into the anchorage, and found much of the anchoring area off the channel filled with moorings. Fortunately for us one boat that had been anchored was leaving. The sailor aboard called to us that his was a good spot, so we sailed further up the channel while we waited for him to raise his anchor and take his leave. We should have been warned when we saw that his chain was well wrapped around his anchor, and that it took several good shakes to work the chain free.
We dropped our anchor close to where his had been. Then, knowing that another blow was on the way, we put out our second anchor down current. When all seemed well we assembled and offloaded the dinghy and rowed to the dinghy dock before the afternoon grew too late. We needed to buy bread and find the laundry, showers and wi-fi we had been told were nearby. As we walked back to the dinghy dock along the town docks we saw a boat we knew, Maggy Fields and found our friend Gord aboard. For those who might not know, Gord was the previous owner of our boat, and buying our beautiful boat from him came with the added bonus of finding a good friend.
Those first days in Beaufort were busy. We sat happily on the hook, going ashore to try and find parts for the engine, do shopping, shower, do laundry, visit the Taylor’s Big Mug coffee shop and enjoy their coffee and wi-fi access. We had a very nice lunch there with Gord. Then we met other cruisers in the nice, clean laundry behind the General Store who had also run aground in Cape May, the weekend before we did. We exchanged tales and experiences, as everyone talked we came to the conclusion that the area we had anchored in should not be considered a good anchorage for bad weather conditions - anchors seem to hold well close to the channel, but not closer to the jetties and shore.
As in Cape May, so in Beaufort. We noticed that there were places where anchors held well, and others where they did not. In one blow we noticed a boat next to us going in circles - it looked as if the anchor was dragging and catching, dragging and catching. We put out a third anchor to hold ourselves out of that boat’s way until the sailor aboard decided to let the rest of the blow pass in the shelter of the town marina. As it turned out, that was probably a very good thing.
When the next weather window - a very short one - appeared we decided to move on, and try reach the Masonboro Inlet. Gord was planning to leave the same day, and we hoped to meet him again at Wrightsville Beach. Before slack that afternoon we began to get ourselves ready to go. We took up the third anchor we had put out, then took our dinghy apart and stowed it on board. Then we did what we normally do - started to take up our second anchor before we put the mainsail up to sail off. Problem was, as we discovered after, we were actually pulling up both anchors at the same time.
We thought the boat newly anchored not far from us was dragging. They saw quickly that we were the one dragging, and they also saw why. Our anchor chains were well-wrapped around each other where they could see them but we could not. They had probably become tangled around each other when the tide, wind and current were low and the boat circled around the slack chains. We are very grateful to the sailors on Sojourn for helping us through what happened next . They took our lines and helped us raft alongside; then they helped us untangle the anchor chains and get the anchors up and stowed before walking us around their boat to a position where we could sail off. We had no main up, and were too close to raise it safely, so it was a matter of letting go the jib and pulling in the sheets at the right time. With Richard at the helm and me handling the jib and sheets and doing a little fending off, we were underway.
But more was to come. Looking back, it seems we just weren’t meant to leave that day. We still had to get the main up, which meant turning into the wind with the jib flapping. Then, main up, we tried to pull off the wind so we could sail down the channel and the jib sheet fouled on our whisker pole, stored along the lifelines. We got that free, got a little speed up, and tried to tack away from the shore - and the jib sheet fouled again, this time in the mooring chock. Then the jib wrapped wrong way around the front stay and became immovable. There just was not enough space or time to free the jib by furling it, free up the sheet and get sailing again - we went gently aground between two private docks.
Now what? There was a man working aboard a large power boat at one of the docks - someone else whose help we really appreciated - and he took time to help us get a line first to the boat he was on and then to the dock that boat was attached to. With his help we were able to winch the boat back into deeper water and then to the head of the dock. Slack was now well past, so we sat there while we considered our situation and our next move. And radioed Gord to wish him a safe voyage and let him know that we would not be leaving that day.
After some talk and consultation with the man who had helped us Richard hopped off the boat and went to see the owner of the dock. He found a former sailor and cruiser who was happy to let us stay there while we made yet another stab at fixing the engine as well as some of the damage our anchor rollers had sustained when we were towed off the rocks in Cape May. Once again we worked away and waited through heavy weather and light days for the next weather window.
The next several days were spent talking to other sailors and various businesses as we tried to track down parts - we found the folk at Coastal Diesel Service very helpful. And becoming better acquainted with the very helpful staff at the town dock. Beaufort is one of those towns that is good to cruisers, where many people are both welcoming and helpful. A wonderful place to visit - but with the weather becoming colder not a place to linger. So we kept the boat stocked, Richard worked on the engine and even got it to run for a while, and we kept an eye on the weather...
It was close to the end of November by the time the next weather window came along. The engine was not functioning reliably, so we opted for a tow out of the inlet when the tide was slack. We called a little ahead of time and the towboat arrived before we were quite ready, in spite of being asked to wait - which left us scrambling to finish our last minute jobs and increased the time we had to pay for. Then we were towed out, past the shoals we had not had time to look at on the way in and a small fishing boat that refused to clear the channel and forced us toward shallow water. Finally we were out of the inlet, free of our tow, putting up sails, and coaxing the boat away from the coast in light north winds, finally under way again.
The winds did not stay out of the north for very long. What should have been a short sail to Winyah Bay stretched out for an extra day and a half as we sailed into light winds on the nose. On our last night the rain descended as Richard sat in the cockpit, coaxing the boat to keep moving forward. As day dawned and we approached the inlet - having missed another slack time we could enter on - he was wet, tired and very cold. We hove-to and took a little time to consider our options.
Entering with too little wind to counteract the current was not one of them. This was the calm before the storm, and another system was on its way - so continuing down the coast to the next inlet we could enter did not look like a good option either. Finally we decided to request a tow in and spend a few days at a marina while we considered what to do next.
We chose Belle Isle marina out of one of the guides we had with us, mostly because it sounded like a good place for a smaller boat. As it turned out, it was also the closest to the inlet entrance, even though it was more than an hours tow away. Best of all, it turned out to be a beautiful, hospitable spot, with a marsh full of wildlife and birds and a gently rolling, treed landscape, and a dock master who was both efficient and kind. We had found a good place to pause and reflect.
It was now the end of November, and we had hoped to be in Miami already. But weather windows for travelling down the coast had been short and not always suitable for a boat which was travelling down the outside and having to choose very carefully which inlets to use. The month had been an expensive one, what with tows, paying salvage for being towed off the rocks and searching for engine parts. As we warmed and dried out the boat we talked about where to go from here.
For family reasons we still needed to get to Florida, and do it before Christmas. For financial reasons we needed to earn some more money. After phone calls and consultations we booked seats on the Greyhound to Fort Lauderdale, and arranged for the boat to stay safely tucked in at Belle Isle. The plan: A month or so in Florida, and then back to Nova Scotia to work, with a month off in April to return to South Carolina, mount a bracket and outboard to use as temporary auxiliary power, and bring the boat back to be hauled and refitted in Nova Scotia.
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