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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

Massachusetts Pictures, October 2008

Boats on moorings off Ten Pound Island in the outer harbor of Gloucester, Massachusetts.









In front of the brown house he used to live in is this engaging statue of the artist Fitz Henry Lane, internationally known for his seascapes. The statue was created by Al Duca.









Here you can see a mixture of many elements of Gloucester, a proud fishing port which also welcomes cruisers and sailors and is home to all manner and size of boats.









Along the road between Lake Tashmoo and Vineyard Haven on Martha's Vineyard there were definite signs that summer was ending and cooler weather was on its way...















A schooner is being refitted at the Gannon and Benjamin boatyard - the same one where we were able to get scraps for wood for burning in our fireplace. As well as doing repairs they build beautiful wooden boats here.






Richard walking along the beach by the moorings in Vineyard Haven on a cool day. Dinghies and other small boats line the beach above the high tide line.

October 2008, Visiting Massachusetts

We left Halifax twice. The first time was already later than we had planned to leave, but as usual the work we had done had taken longer than planned. So we were eager to go and left on the first good forecast, casting off with help from friends and setting off across and out of the harbour in brisk winds. By the middle of the day the winds that had been forecast to be behind us were still heavy and on the nose, and we were beating into cold seas. Since things were not improving, and we were still within range of Halifax we turned back and sailed up the North West Arm to drop anchor for the night.

The next morning we set off again, hoping that the forecast for more favourable winds was right. We did not worry unduly about not being able to coax the engine into life that cold morning, since it has never been fond of starting cold. Eager to set off, we sailed off the anchor and down the Arm. Bob on Sprig met us leaving the Arm, and we had a brief chat; then it was away down the coast headed for our first port in the US, Gloucester Massachusetts. That first day went well, and so did the next - it was the third day out we ran into a nasty storm which kept us hove to and then on the drogue for a while. We were very grateful then our new hatch Steve at Dura-Tech had helped us make. Even when the winds blew hard and the waves were high no water came in to the cabin. During the storm we hunkered down and stayed dry and waited. Then, as often happens, the weather cleared and we had a beautiful sail the rest of the way to the outer harbour at Gloucester.

Richard had taken a look at the engine on the way, and we had reluctantly come to the conclusion that it was not going to start without new parts. Not a problem, really, since we were a sailboat; we would just look for parts on the way down and fix it when we could. Gloucester, it turned out was not the place to find parts for our unusual engine, but we stayed long enough to see nearby family and enjoy looking around the town.

We checked in with help from the harbourmaster on duty, who came to pick us up and took us back to our boat on that first trip in, showing us the safe passage and the hazards along the way. He was happy to help us on a quiet day... We met the representative from Customs and Immigration at the Harbor Master’s Office, and spent a couple of hours ashore trying to get used to the feel of solid ground under our feet before we went back to the boat.

The next day we found the Chamber of Commerce and information on where to find such essential things as the laundromat and groceries. Then we wandered around, and found that this was one of those towns that are small enough to walk to just about everything and one where people were happy to help if you asked for directions. That sense of acceptance of visitors increased when we found free wi-fi - and someone who was excited to have us use it. The air was cool, but the reception was warm. Then we heard a forecast for winds that would make being in the outer harbour uncomfortable. We sailed away planning to come back a little earlier in the year the next time we passed through....

From Gloucester we sailed to Martha’s Vineyard, to see friends we had met in Antigua. With no engine we did not take the more traditional route through the Cape Cod Channel, but sailed on to the sounds around Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard through Pollock’s Rip; inside we dropped anchor for a while to wait for a more favourable tide to continue our travels on. Currents here are strong. and must be taken into account. The tide turned in time for us to be able to sail to Vineyard Haven. We dropped anchor outside the harbour as dark was falling and stayed there overnight. The next morning, with the wind shifting out of the north and the water growing rougher, our friend Dennis contacted us from shore to tell us about entering Lake Tashmoo and where we could drop anchor inside it. A short wait for a favourable tide, and then we were able to ride tide and winds to and into Lake Tashmoo, where we found very good shelter a mile’s walk away from Vineyard Haven. And we certainly appreciated the shelter when the fronts came blowing through.

For a while Lake Tashmoo was the centre from which we explored. We did some of those essential things - reactivated our US cell phone, to make it easier to call in to Customs when we moved to a new place, found the shipyard that would let us take wood scraps for our fireplace so we could stay warm, found the grocery store and tried to find the part we needed for the engine. Dennis was our guide to local resources, and even spent a day driving us to the laundromat, and to get more wood, (and gave us a piece of wood to replace one that had been bruised on the way down) and to his house for a short visit with his lovely Julie.

We enjoyed our walks in to town, along leafy streets where we sometimes passed wild turkeys feeding in the gardens of houses, past the big church on the corner down to the shops along the Vineyard Haven Harbor. But we could not stay in our cosy anchorage. We needed to leave Lake Tashmoo on south winds, and we needed north winds to continue our travels south. So we needed to be in Vineyard Haven. As luck would have it we found ourselves mooring free in the harbor during a grace period, after a half day of waiting patiently in Lake Tashmoo for the predicted wind shift, which had to coincide with the right tides and currents for us to get out... Sailing in these waters without an engine requires patience and discipline.

From the mooring we could easily walk along the beach to the grocery store, boat yard and marine store, and to the ferry terminal where we could use the free wi-fi. Everything was close by. We stocked up on food and wood and charcoal, and got ready to leave when Herb of Southbound II declared that we had a window.

Finally the time came, and we slipped the mooring and headed south for Cape May, and further adventures.

Pictures of Late Summer 2008

On a wet August day, one of many, this was the view looking out from our cabin. Water, water everywhere...











Taking a pogo stick to new heights at the Halifax Busker's Festival down on the waterfront.










Sometimes it takes a little help from the audience to keep things stable. These are the Aerial Angels, based in the U.S., performing at the Buskers Festival.











A testimony to the foolish ways of birds? Hopefully they're not thinking of nesting in the tyres on this tug...










Our new nesting dinghy takes its first trip on the water. It floats!













The ducks have been feeding and feasting on the rich growth on the poles and floats - and sometimes boats - in the marina.










A view from the porthole as the sun goes down behind the MacDonald Bridge.













Getting ready to move on again, with our new main hatch and doors in place, and our nesting dinghy strapped down in front.

August 2008, And The Rain Came

August was a wet month. Even the weather experts agreed it was the wettest August in many years. So wet that farmers lost crops and outside workers lost time and we had many delays in the work we had planned to do on the boat. Between rain and fog the damp seemed to get in and linger everywhere, and we dried the boat out every opportunity that offered. But there were good days sprinkled through the wet ones.

There was Natal Day. Festivities began on Thursday July 31 and were supposed to continue through a four day weekend. On August 1st we enjoyed the Joel Plaskett Emergency from the boat, and looked forward to the activities scheduled for the rest of the weekend. But then rain shortened the talent show and dampened the festivities that was scheduled for Alderney Landing. That evening the fog descended before the fireworks could rise, and the weather remained damp and foggy for the next few days. Which meant that we missed the fireworks from the bridge for the second year in a row. Maybe next year? In the intervals between rainy weather people enjoyed activities on the Macdonald Bridge, runners of all ages completed the Natal Day road race, and we glimpsed the Natal Day Parade as it too crossed the bridge. The weekend was like the month - wet - and people did as they usually do - enjoyed what they could, in spite of the weather.

The weather was a little better for the Halifax Buskers Festival, and we went across on the ferry to check things out there one relatively sunny day. Areas were set up along the waterfront with “stages” and in some places areas for people to sit and watch, and there were musicians and booths and lots of people wandering along the harbour front, gazing at visiting ships and boats as well as at the performers . We paused by a didgeridoo player and stopped to watch a young man performing high leaping feats on something that bore a vague resemblance to a pogo stick and further along three women who twisted and turned and swooped down cascades of silk as part of their act, and kept up a lively exchange with the crowd as they worked. We wandered past a loud and lively children’s area and heard commentary on high flying trampoline performers from another area sponsored by a radio station before we moved on to do other, more mundane things, like buy groceries.

We often crossed the harbour and walked to stores in downtown Halifax, and sometimes we would come upon concerts and buskers performing along the harbourfront as we walked. Coming upon an unexpected performance is one of the best ways to discover a performer you like - we came across Jordan Croucher, singing a capella when his backup tape failed and obviously not needing the music in the background to help his voice to soar. He was performing on the deck of the Sackville, Canada’s last Corvette, now maintained as a floating museum and Canadian Naval Memorial. The performance was on behalf of Democracy 250, which is promoting recognition of the 250th anniversary of the establishment of parliamentary democracy in Nova Scotia and reaching out to young people to encourage them to understand the political process, be involved and vote. And that in itself tells you a lot about Nova Scotia.

And then there was the boat work we planned and set out to accomplish - with a lot of help from some of our friends. We built a new nesting dinghy, and installed mounting blocks so that we can carry it safely on top of our cabin. Our dinghy splashed into the water in the second week of August, complete except for the details. We can report that it rows very well, and we’ll soon know how it sails. And we designed and Richard (and our friend Steve) built a new entrance to our cabin, with a hinged hatch and doors instead of the old sliding hatch and boards. Installed it has lines similar to the old hatch but is much more waterproof and more easily opened and closed.

As always, there is maintenance - wood to be sanded and oiled, deck and cabin to be painted, and the dodger to be restitched. This time we handed the dodger over to Greg at Atlantic Canvas, who did a masterful job of stitching everything back together. The rest we tackled ourselves. The outside of our cabin is now a pleasing white, and so is our cockpit - there are still some small deck areas to be done, but we’ll do them where the weather is more pleasant.

Finally there are the things that broke unexpectedly. Our galley foot pump decided it had done enough work, and quit, to be replaced by one with a slightly higher flow. Our starter, newly installed in May, refused to work in September and had to be removed and replaced as well. Our main halyard developed chafed areas after rubbing against one of the spreaders in high winds and we changed it rather than risk it failing at an inopportune time.

One of the best things about the cruising life is seeing old friends and meeting new ones. We’ve seen a few old friends here and met many new ones, and once again our boat sails away carrying much that reminds us of people we have met and those who have helped us in many different ways. There have been many who offered us friendship and practical help and encouragement, and some who stand out because they have been so generous with their time and help. Thank you, everyone - we will remember you as we travel and plan to see you next summer when we are back in Halifax again.

So now, after all the help and work, the boat is back in cruising trim and all we need is the right weather to start moving south again. September has been eaten up by our preparations to move on, and the stormy season is upon us. It’s time to go...

Pictures from Summer 2008

Halifax was one of the stops in the 07-08 Round the World Clipper Race. Here the race boats, Clipper 68s, parade in Halifax Harbour shortly after their arrival. Ten boats, representing ten ports, leave Liverpool for a race around the world. Over the next ten months they round the world, stopping at different ports - by now they have returned to Liverpool, after calling at Sydney, Nova Scotia, then crossing to Cork, Ireland before returning to their starting point.




Trees, flowers, water, birds - Halifax Public Gardens is a beautiful example of nature tamed and coaxed and molded into a public park.










The Gothic facade of St. Mary's Basilica seen from Spring Garden Road, reputed to be the oldest Catholic church in North America. The building soars into the sky, and the facades is full of detail, with beautiful stained glass windows. The only thing lacking is enough space to step back and take the whole structure in.








We went all the way to Halifax to listen to the Trinidad and Tobago Defence Force Steel Band, marching in the Tattoo Parade on Canada Day.










A re-enactment of military drills from the time of muskets and kilts at the Citadel, the fortress that has stood guard over the city of Halifax, in one form or another, since 1761.











Of course, Canada Day meant fireworks. These were from a barge out on the harbour, part of a very nice display.









Hundreds of feet below the Cape Blomidon Lookout the farmland stretches to the shores of the Minas Basin, where the Fundy tides rise and fall, exposing great banks of red mud when they are low.










A wild rose bud hides among the leaves and stalks in a planter by the marina. The thorny wild rose bushes provide shelter for small birds and rose hips in the fall and winter for those birds that overwinter.

A Busy Dartmouth/Halifax Summer

It has been a busy and interesting summer. We have spent the season at Alderney Marina, enjoying the conveniences of sitting at a dock - easy access to water and a little extra power for keeping us warm when the weather turned cool. Sitting on one of the outer docks left us a little more exposed to weather that we would have been in a slip further in, so there were interesting times when wind and waves picked up and made the boat jump against her moorings. But turning our bow out into the the harbour helped, and so did being lucky enough to be able to move to a more sheltered spot vacated by another boat when the remnants of the storm called Hanna passed through toward the end of summer.

We’ve also enjoyed being a short walk away from the Dartmouth Farmer’s Market, where we buy local vegetables and fruit, eggs and cheese, and the occasional baked treat. In spite of the vagaries of weather the quality of everything we’ve bought has been good - and one of the best things has been being able to bite into fruits and vegetables that are fresh and full of taste. Even though it has meant getting up early to get there in time to choose from the best of the selection.

Then we had all kinds of activities to choose from. Halifax is a busy place in the summer time. There are boats and ships visiting, festivals and holidays to be enjoyed, and a wide choice of museums and galleries, large and small, and activities and performances and places to visit. We found our way to some and happened across others this year - but next year there will be more new-to-us places to visit and things to see.

Our summer in the harbour began with a visit from the ten sailboats taking part in the around The World Clipper Race. They stopped in Halifax after racing from New York, and when we saw them they were gathered in the harbour for a sailpast, each boat showing the flag of the country it represented proudly on its mainsail. The race is based in England and gives people of many different backgrounds and ages a chance to take part in a round-the-world sail on boats sponsored by and representing different ports along their route. Each boat is skippered by a professional captain, but anyone hardy and adventurous enough - and with sufficient funds - can join the crew. Crew members are trained and sign on for one or more legs (each leg is four weeks). Some do the complete ten month circumnavigation. The boats lay berthed in the harbour for a few days while the crews were feted and welcomed and took advantage of the opportunity to rest and replenish. We went across on the ferry to see them at their berths and admire, along with many others. Preparations for the next race are well underway now - if you are curious, you can learn more at www.clipperroundtheworld.com.

Canada Day celebrations were the next high point, starting with a pancake breakfast at Alderney Landing, continuing with the Tattoo Parade through downtown Halifax and a visit to the Citadel, followed by concerts back at Alderney and winding down with fireworks over the harbour. And that was only a sampling of the things we could have done - museums and historic sites all over the city were open and could be visited free. There were performances, picnics and events scattered around Dartmouth and Halifax, including a large run/walk around the city for the athletic.

Halifax’s Canada Day Parade reflects the towns military and naval roots. The parade is made up of groups from all over Canada and the world who are in town taking part in the annual Nova Scotia International Tattoo - the largest annual Tattoo in Canada, according to Wikipedia. The parade was led off by two mounties, their horses gleaming and strutting, followed by dancers and singers and costumed groups and by military groups and bands from Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Britain, Australia - and our favourite, the steel drum band from Trinidad and Tobago. We stood on the sidewalk on Spring Garden Road, watching as the streets were closed down and the parade approached and enjoying the reactions of the crowd to the passing bands as well as the spectacle passing in front of us. Then after the parade had passed we followed many in the dispersing crowd to the Citadel.

The Citadel, the fortress sitting at the top of the hill which used to have a clear view of the harbour and beyond, is very much part of Halifax’s and Dartmouth’s naval and military heritage. Even now, with more modern (and less elegant) buildings confounding the once clear view of the harbour and obscuring many of the remaining historic buildings clustered around the old port, the view holds hints of what it must once have been. The Citadel itself was full of activity, with music and cake to celebrate Canada’s birthday, re-enactors playing the part of soldiers from the days of muskets and kilts, and people visiting the museum and gift shop and wandering the grounds and ramparts. The museum traces the development of the fort, from its beginnings as a wooden blockhouse to its final, larger and more durable form when it was finally finished in 1856. Many people worked on it during its various construction phases, including Maroons transported to Nova Scotia from Jamaica in 1796, many of whom later moved on to Sierra Leone. We explored the museum, watched the people, and enjoyed a slice of cake before we moved on.

After our visit to the Citadel we crossed the harbour on the ferry, heading back to the boat and then to the outdoor concerts at Alderney Landing, beside the marina. The concert was lively and fun and included something for almost every musical taste; we particularly enjoyed the R and B of Asia and Nu Gruv, a group we first heard last summer at the Jazz Festival, and the very entertaining Celtic-based music of the Barra McNeils, and listened from the boat to a lively performance by Big Fish. Then we finished off the evening watching the fireworks over the harbour. A full and fun day.

July continued with music. We spent some time at the Jazz Festival, and our find this year was Coco Love Alcorn, whose set we thoroughly enjoyed. We enjoyed some other very good performances too and were particularly impressed by some of the younger musicians - the Matt Giffin Trio (Matt Giffin, Keith Doiron, Will Fisher) played incredibly well, reaching out to the audience and each other through their instruments, the groups that developed their performances in the Creative Music Workshop jumped into some very interesting and risky work, and we thoroughly enjoyed the Big Valley Swing Orchestra. If we had had the time to go to the festival every day it was on we would probably have an even longer list of the things that we enjoyed!

We did take some time away from music to explore and enjoy the Halifax Gardens, a cool and pleasant place on a warm day. Friends introduced us to more of this beautiful province, driving us through farmland and small towns and up the slope to the Cape Blomidon Lookout. And, as usual, we saw new parts of Halifax and Dartmouth as we walked or rode the buses from place to place. Walking gives us a chance to notice small things, read notices that flash past when we are on the bus, see the faces of people we pass by, enjoy the parks and the lakes that dot the Dartmouth side; the buses take us along routes we probably would not see otherwise. Between work and exploration time flew past, and by the time we looked around it was August, time for more festivities and for more serious planning for the time we will be heading south.

Pictures: Winter into Spring 2008

There were days when it seemed as if Winter would never leave - although we knew it would. A late March snowfall blanketed the city, and encouraged us to enjoy its beauty from inside the apartment we were renting.






Technically it's Spring. But, in spite of the sunny skies, it's cold and the boats are not going back into the water in any hurry. So the docks at Dartmouth Yacht Club are sitting waiting...








When we hauled the boat we found out why we were moving so slowly, and the boat had a tendency to pull to one side - mussels. Lots of them. Hanging on to the bottom - at least until Richard took the shovel to them. If the water here were cleaner we could have had a nice boil-up!






Here she is, back to normal, with fresh anti-fouling paint to keep the mussels away and the waterline stripe raised and repainted with hard anti-fouling paint. Hopefully that will keep below the waterline, wherever it may be, clean.








A warm day before we left Dartmouth Yacht Club - boats in the water, people exploring the shoreline.










Back at Alderney Marina, brightened up with fresh paint, lively colours - and flowers crowning the poles the docks are attached to! A different approach to things...

Getting Back On the Water Again

It took a while for the weather to get warm enough for comfortable work. Winter kept teasing, and Spring was coy. Now, while it is certainly not as warm as it would be further south - where, of course, we plan to spend next winter - we have managed to do some work and paint and move back on to the boat. The whole process went something like this:

At the beginning of May the boat came out of the water. Finally, after three years - longer than we had planned - we had the chance to take her mast down, clean the accumulation of plants and creatures at and below the waterline and put new antifouling on to keep those clinging sea creatures at bay. And it was past time, as we saw when Into The Blue was finally sitting in the slings - mussels had decided she made a good rock and had taken up residence en masse. They were literally hanging off the hull, in curtains. Not much wonder the boat had been dragging through the water, and showing a tendency to wander off in one direction! Happily, those mussels came off quite easily, and in the end it was a cleanup, scrape-off job that was not nearly as bad as it originally looked. Then we had two weeks to get our out-of-the-water jobs done and some hard work ahead.

So: on the list, the usual things. Cleaning, sanding, painting, touching up, mending. And a few new things - headliner, to help keep the forward berth warm and dry. New curtains, to replace the now well-worn ones we left with. Beginning the job of repainting the inside. Rewiring and removal of unused wires. Running new wires through the mast. The only problem was the normal one - time. So when we started work we did the most crucial jobs first.

We started with the bottom of the boat - mainly Richard’s job - sanding and washing and fixing the odd spot here and there, followed by masking and repainting our waterline stripe with hard antifouling paint in a suitable shade of blue. Then we recoated with ablative antifouling below the waterline. With the mast down, this was our opportunity to fix our mast-top anchor light and redo the wiring in the mast. Or rather, as it turned out, replace the anchor light, which fell to pieces in Richard’s hands when he tried to take the lens off to change the bulb. And the VHF antenna had also, as it turned out, been quietly falling apart. So it needed to be replaced too.

On deck I sanded and oiled the outside wood. Then it was into the cabin to clean the winter’s accumulation of dust and damp and mildew, and sand where we planned to paint. Then clean, and try to tidy up, and clean... But at the end of those two weeks the boat looked like a construction site and there was still work to be done. And she had to go back in. And the day we had chosen to be out of the apartment was fast approaching. The pressure of deadlines made life a little stressful.

Back in the water, we had only three days before it was time to leave the Dartmouth Yacht Club. We prepared to go with much left to be done, planning to finish our work down at Alderney Marina. Then a new wrinkle appeared. There we were, everything we had on board at the time safely stowed away, lifejackets ready, warmly dressed, chart on the counter in the cabin and GPS’s at the ready. Richard hit the starter button, planning to give the engine a few minutes to warm up. Nothing happened. No noise, not a click or a clunk, the engine did not even try to turn over. Was it the batteries? He tried charging them, boosting them with help from another boater down the dock - but nothing happened. The problem was unwanted but not unexpected: he had been nursing the starter along, but now it had declared itself past the point of being nursed - it had finally expired. Either we were going to stay where we were until we could get a new one, or we were going to ask for a tow out and try to sail down. That had its own challenges - we would have to go with the right wind and tide, to make it comfortably through the Narrows. And it was evening, and the light would be going soon. Either way, we needed time. We went to talk to the Club’s manager.

We were treated with kindness - Curtis, the manager, told us not to worry about having to take extra time, that our situation was understood. We gave the starter out and paid mightily for its replacement - something to do with ours being an old Renault engine and having to bring a starter in from the other side of the country. At least it was the other side of this country - there was a chance we might have been importing it from another one. We kept working inside the cabin while we waited - sanding, cleaning, putting up the headliner. Finally the starter arrived, Richard installed it, and right afterward we were lucky enough to have a good day for leaving. We reversed out of the slip at Dartmouth Yacht Club in our own unique way (one of the interesting things about having a full keel boat being that it likes to pick its own direction when going backward). A couple of half-circles, backward and forward, and then we were leaving Into The Blue’s winter home...

The wind came and went, and we half-sailed, half-motored to our summer spot at Alderney Marina to continue getting the boat ready to move back on to. First, finish the work we had started, then clean the boat and move things on, then clean the apartment... Now that part of the work is done. We are back on board, and it’s feeling like home again. Still things to do, but also time to look forward to taking breaks and doing some sailing and enjoying the festivals and events around town.

Starting with the visit of the Clipper Round The World Race boats. But that’s a tale for another time.