Apr
18
2012
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 17

3/23/12:

North Carolina Welcome Center

Mile 28,, Great Dismal Swamp Canal

We finally got underway on the 21st, with a long day motoring from Deltaville to Norfolk. Paul left under overcast skies, which quickly turned to fog. It was only then that he realized that the radar wasn’t working. Lots of Navy ships and some commercial traffic, though the shipping lanes seemed less crowded than Boston or Vancouver, despite the cruising guide’s cautions about the heavy traffic at Hampton Roads. We stayed at a marina whose location could not have been better: downtown Norfolk just a couple of blocks away (and a great breakfast place practically across the street from the marina). I chose it because it was very convenient to the waterway heading to the Great Dismal Swamp, though Paul had to make a U-turn after passing under a 50′ bridge (proving that the top of our mast is less than 50′ from the water) because the GPS indicated going one way, and the cruising guide showed a different direction. After Paul had committed to going the way the GPS indicated, he discovered that it suddenly agreed with the guidebook. I told him there shouldn’t be any bridges yet!

I was afraid that Great Dismal Swamp was “over-hyped” and that we’d be disappointed, but it is beautiful: narrow, very peaceful aside from the occasional traffic noise from US Highway 17 which runs alongside the canal for much of the distance, tree-lined and gorgeous. The water is as brown as root beer from the tannins. After talking to the friendly lock- and bridge-worker (like the lock operators at the Hiram Chittenden Locks in Seattlle, Army Corps of Engineers) while the lock was filling at Deep Creek, the canal got noticeably narrower, and birds started calling alarm at our passage. At one point, we chased a pair of great blue herons from one side of the canal to the other for several miles until they figured out that if they just flew behind us, we would stop disturbing them. I’d forgotten how large they are, especially in flight! Despite the busy highway nearby, it felt very wild and primitive. It was truly a delight to be able to go through it.

The lock tender gave us a brochure about the canal, which had been first surveyed by a young George Washington. After several false starts, it was finally begun (hand dug: no heavy machinery in those days) and completed in 1805. A rival waterway, the Virginia Cut, was completed later and throughout their histories, there was fierce competition, with one being more popular, then the other. The Great Dismal, being so much narrower and shallower finally lost out, but both are historic waterways maintained by the Army Corps of Engineers.

OSD made herself right at home at the lock at Deep Creek. We started out about 6 or 7′ below ground level, then the worker raised the level of the water until we were level with the surrounding (flat) terrain, at which point OSD looked around and promptly got off, evidently deciding this was as good a place as any for a walk. We were very lucky that the staffer is a dog person and that there was no one else around. OSD ran around a bit, then Paul convinced her to return to DW.

In addition to the herons, we saw an egret (seemingly smarter than the herons, as it only took a couple of times being disturbed before it decided to head in the direction from which we’d come to settle down again), turtles sunning themselves on a log, big and small dragonflies, and interesting large flying insects someone told us were wasps, but which didn’t bother us at all. Mosquitos will be an increasing problem, as both of us already have several bites. Time to break out the Deet.

So far, we’ve only met two boats in the canal. “Sunday’s Child” we saw only in passing, though it would have been fun to talk to them: as we passed by, I asked them where they’d come from, and the captain told me the Bahamas! Tonight, we’re tied up near a 29′ boat being single-handed by Jonathan. He travels back and forth between the Isle of Shoals on the ME-NH border and central FL. In the “small world” category, it turns out that he works seasonally at the hotel I’d commented about in an early dispatch (how odd that there was some sort of hotel or group camp out in the middle of nowhere). He talked to Paul at length about the ICW and a few spots to beware of due to shoaling. For cruisers/sailors on this list, this is normal, though in the Pacific NW, it’s more like, “watch out for rocks here and strong current there.” Here local knowledge is all about shoals, and his info was much appreciated.

3/26/12:

an anchorage at SM (statute mile – as opposed to NM, nautical mile) 103.2

It is no secret to say that Paul and I don’t always agree about things, and this has been one instance. Early on the morning of the 25th, I called the Alligator River Marina to find out about space and discovered that they weren’t accepting any boats drawing more than 4’6”. We draw about 4’8”, and I wanted to chance it (two lousy inches: I mean, c’mon…), but Paul, being the captain, didn’t want to risk it. So we passed the entrance to the marina and had the Alligator River Bridge open, stopping about 20 SM later (all inland waters are measured in SM; NM are only used in coastal waters and bays) when we found a safe anchorage at SM 103.2. Scattered rain showers and thunderstorms were predicted, and, using Paul’s words, “It was chaos:” rain so heavy that when Paul set the anchor, despite his “rain resistant” clothing, he got soaked. Inches of rain fell, as one squall followed another. I pointed out to Paul, now in dry clothes, that we were warm and dry, and with the propane stove, had a hot dinner, so we were fine. For once, even OSD wasn’t scared, despite the rain pounding on the cabin roof or the occasional flashes of lightning and thunderclaps. The next morning, as we were leaving the anchorage under broken clouds and no wind, Paul heard that the bridge across the Alligator River was closed until further notice. Okay, so I admit that on this occasion Paul was right and I was w—-.

3/27/12:

Upper Dowry Creek & Belhaven, NC:

We stopped at the very friendly Dowry Creek Marina last night. Hurricane Irene is a distant memory for most of us (a passing news item for those in the West), but it spawned tornadoes and heavy rains down here, the damage from which people are still recovering from. No one at Dowry Creek Marina is originally from the local area, though all have been there for a number of years. The woman who runs it is from MI (living her late husband’s dream of running a marina); one couple helping her is from Canada, while the other couple is from Winchester Bay, OR. Joyce and Brad, the couple from OR, talked about Hurricane Irene. They were here, had a trailer and car they thought they’d parked in a great location to ride out the storm, and when they returned, discovered that both had been destroyed by a passing tornado. The trailer was on its side, and they were able to salvage some of the contents, but the trailer and vehicle were both a total loss They are living on their boat, and have rented a storage unit here for what had been in the trailer.

I’d left several messages for a local marina here in Belhaven, where we’d hoped to get fuel. Another casualty of Hurricane Irene, they fell victim to the surge and were flooded out, and haven’t yet reopened.

3/31/12:

Beaufort, NC

Another stunning canal along the ICW, the Adams Creek Canal is very different from Great Dismal Swamp in that the latter is a State and national preserve, whereas the former is not. Lots of homes, most elevated (floods? air circulation in the summer heat?), many, if not grand, at least very nice, lining the north bank from Oriental to Beaufort.

It is great to be in a real town again, where groceries and other supplies can be purchased. Going from the info in the cruising guide, we had assumed that both Belhaven and Oriental would be large enough to have services, but that really wasn’t the case. Ice, yes, but groceries? No. At the marina in Belhaven, the “ship’s store,” as these shops connected to marinas are called, had the smallest containers I’d ever seen of items that cruisers might need: a bottle of olive oil, for example, that couldn’t have contained more than ¼ cup of oil (for $2.25); a single serving container of heat-and-serve ravioli, small cans of soup, etc. I was impressed with what they had (and the rather high prices), but we needed regular groceries: eggs, milk, bread, vegetables, that sort of thing. This is something that we really hadn’t expected. In Nova Scotia, most towns had grocery stores either nearby or people willing to give us a ride to one. (and Halifax, which doesn’t count, has great public transportation.) That is definitely not the case here! I am, however, grateful for the taxi service here, which picks us up at one of the local grocery stores, a mile or two away, and deposits us at the marina.

Aside from crossing some large shallow sounds (Albemarle and Pamlico) and a couple of wide river mouths (the Alligator and Neuse), we’ve been in sheltered territory, and other than one day crossing the Neuse River, it’s been very easy, motoring all the way. The few occasions when we didn’t have to follow channel markers, there was no wind. Ah, well, another time.

 On to one of the areas Jonathan warned Paul about (Bogue Sound), where we hope we’ll be able to avoid going aground, and then continuing to Wrightsville Beach and Wilmington, where we’ll have more water. More soon.

 May you all have fair winds!

 

Apr
18
2012
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 18

4/8/12

Wrightsville Beach, NC

Continuing to wend our way down the ICW, we have thus far avoided going aground, though we’ve been close a couple of times.

Wrightsville Beach, unlike so many of the places we’ve been on the ICW, is a small city in its own right, and ideally situated: the ICW cuts it in two, (with a bridge we had to have opened connecting both parts), with the resort part of the town fronting the Atlantic a mile or so away. At times as we got close to Wrightsville, we could see the breakers of the Atlantic a short distance away, looking very intimidating.

The marina where we stayed was a little pricey, but in a great location: just across the bridge and a bit more than half a mile (okay, a half mile beyond half a mile = a mile, but it was a very pleasant walk) to the shopping center where West Marine and the local grocery chain, Harris Teeter, are. We walked there every single day we were in Wrightsville Beach, needing something at one place or other that one of us had forgotten

 A marina staffer also told us about a great local breakfast and lunch place just across the parking lot from the marina, the Causeway Cafe. We had an excellent breakfast there, a seafood omelet for Paul and unbreakfast-like chicken & dumplings for me, and it was clear that the cafe was hardly a local secret. On a Thursday at 10:30 in the morning, the place was packed and we wound up sitting at the counter when a couple of seats were available (yes, even a wait to sit at the counter). Sitting at the counter, we had a bird’s eye view of everything, and staff worked quickly to get people taken care of. The owner roamed around, greeting customers, making sure that everything was okay, joking with staff and regulars. Busy, but it seemed like a good place to work, just one of those great local “finds.”.

 The Harris Teeter was a perfectly fine grocery store, somewhat upscale, but it got me to thinking about some things. Wherever we go, I always apply for one of those store discount or rewards cards, and I did the same at Harris Teeter. This time, though, there was a wrinkle: unlike many places we’ve been where staff give you the card and the paperwork, but usually don’t care if you ever complete it, at Harris Teeter, staff insisted that I complete the paperwork before I got the discount and that I provide my driver’s license #, which was listed on the form (and I was asked to get it out so she could check it). At that point, I stopped and asked that my paperwork be destroyed, which was done. Paul pointed out that I could have used my Costa Rica driver’s license. Ah,well.

4/9/12:

Murrells Inlet, SC

We are finally in SC! The current was with us, so we made great time and bypassed several anchorages because it was too early to stop. Paul found an anchorage off in the marsh, which according to one of the books we have, should have had good depths in the middle of the channel. He headed into the side channel, leaving plenty of room on either side, and the alarm on the depth sounder went off: 2.8′ below the transponder, maybe a foot below the keel. Paul tried again, but the same thing happened, so we continued on. Lots of anchorages listed, but all of them carried warnings about shoaling or submerged stumps, which meant problems with getting an anchor to set (dig in so the boat doesn’t drift).

We finally wound up at a marina. We’d initially rejected it as being too expensive, but there was no choice, as the next possibility was about 20 miles further, and we’d have gotten there well after dark. The ICW is mostly well-marked, but very few of the navigational aids are lighted, and the channel may be straight for a time, then the aids suddenly veer off due to a shoal. And the chart plotter is reasonably up-to-date, but a shifting (or just new) shoal will usually be marked by placement of the aids.

The ICW continues to change: narrow tree-lined banks here, marsh and wider banks — but don’t get too close to the side! — there; modest houses in one place, nicer homes in another, and absolutely nothing but low trees, brush, and sky in other places; people fishing off their own dock or at a public pier. So far, it has all been interesting.

4/10/12:

Dewees Creek, SC

We passed a number of grand and grander homes today (and you’ll have to look on our website tomorrow to see the one surprising picture), parks, and more modest homes. Why grand homes in one place and a modest home in another? Soil? Views? Access to services? Distance from the flood plain? (Most of the time, they all seemed close enough to the ICW to be at risk!) Neither of us could figure it out. But there they were, and it was fun to be able to see the mansions and other homes as we went by in our very modest boat. As the banks of the ICW became more populated, we also began to see things that distinguished several neighboring homes. After we saw the giraffe (which turned out to be a clever marketing device), several other homes had large sculptures facing the water; in another small community, there was competing (or so it seemed) landscaping; several other houses further on all had flags of various sorts. All of this last group of homes had US and SC flags, but one had a flag for The Citadel (which is in SC), another had a Greek flag and another had another country’s flag on display. Only in that one set of homes did we see that. And all of these facing the Waterway, not the street, so one could say that the ICW is the road going past their front yards!

Tonight we are in a magical place, but that’s after our first experience with anchoring in a cypress grove. One anchorage in our ICW anchorage book looked good and it was about time to stop for the day, so Paul went in to the little side channel. Depths were fine, but when he set the anchor, it was another matter. We were drifting a little too close to the trees and when Paul tried to get the anchor up, it wouldn’t budge. So he had me at the engine controls while he disassembled the anchor, first pulling up the chain and undoing the shackle connecting it to the anchor, then managing to tip the anchor (the water was warm and it wasn’t too deep) so that it came free, after which DW was adrift. I slowly ran the engine, then faster, and we were out of there! Cypress are magnificent, but viewing them from a distance is the only way for us from now on.

We went a few more miles down the ICW, and the book showed us a beauty: marshland as far as the eye can see, birds calling, seemingly miles from anywhere. And we were graced with a lovely sunset and clear skies, so the Milky Way was in view.

4/11/12:

Charleston, SC

Before we got here, I called around and found rates to be about $2/’, which Paul was a little unhappy about paying, so I called one more place, the Charleston Maritime Center, which I’d deliberately avoided calling because I just knew it would be the most expensive marina. It turned out to be $1.50/’, offered free use of their washer and dryer, and was located about two blocks from downtown Charleston, just far enough away that it was quiet at night. Staff were great, giving us advice about everything from local restaurants to conditions and weather patterns on the ICW and Atlantic farther south, and it turned out to be a fantastic location.

We spent three days in Charleston, which wasn’t nearly enough. One day while Paul was doing some work, I walked around the Old Market, renovated in 2010. Very different from Pike Place in Seattle, at the entrances to each building that ran the length of the block were women weaving traditional and very expensive Gullah baskets. They all had different intricate patterns and were beautifully made from prepared marsh grasses. I wish I’d had my camera with me and gotten permission to take a picture. Inside, there were small retail businesses, like the farmers’ stalls at Pike Place, mostly on temporary card tables or larger wooden tables. There were some food items (stone-ground cornmeal and grits, traditional benne – black sesame seed ­– wafers, seasoning mixes for a low-country boil and other dishes), but mostly the sort of items that tourists might buy. The market ran for four or five blocks, and when I emerged onto the main street running close to the marina, East Bay Street, I was suddenly in the historic district. It was a great morning!

We took the bus to West Marine one day and got to talking to another woman waiting for the bus. She and her husband are also sailors, having gone to a number of places Paul had mentioned when we had our Colvin Gazelle “Indigo” in Seattle. They’ve been to the Philippines, Indonesia, New Zealand, and spent a year in the Marshall Islands. While in Malaysia, they sold the 32′ sailboat they’d lived on for a number of years, which she told me is a good place to sell a boat. They’re planning to live aboard for many more years and wanted a larger, more comfortable boat, which they found here in Charleston. 39′ long, and of course it needs work! Her husband has been doing most of the retrofitting/repair himself, and with two months of work behind them, she thinks they’ll be done in another month or so, then it’s off to Florida.

More soon.

 May you all have fair winds!

 

Apr
13
2012
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 16

3/11/12: aboard DW in Deltaville, VA   Here we sit, awaiting the last of the remaining work to be done so we can be on our way and head south. Getting to know the Deltavville area has been interesting, but it hasn’t exactly been what we’d expected. We returned to Deltaville knowing that a few things still needed to be completed, but, as it turned out, nearly everything still needed work. The boatyard had more than three months to complete the work, but if you’re not there to gently remind the powers that be that your job needs to be taken care of, they’ll work on someone else’s job that’s just as important if that person is there to actually check in on the progress of his/her job. Some of the work couldn’t be completed sooner due to weather/climate, but it’s certainly been frustrating.

We rented the lower floor of a house for the first two weeks we were here. Paul had placed an ad in the local paper when my listing on craigslist garnered no responses, and he received two messages, the first for a vacation home where it was clear that pets would only be welcome if they neither shed nor got on the furniture (right…).

The second was from a woman who sounded warm and very “pet friendly,” and Paul told her we’d talk to her soon. She turned out to be every bit as nice as she’d seemed over the phone. A retired biology teacher from Richmond, VA, she had been an avid sailor, but as a single-hander, she’d had to give up her sailboat as she got a bit older. Although just a few minutes from the boatyard, it’s a good thing that she gave us good directions. It was down a road which turned to gravel, then dirt, and the house turned out to be right on the inlet, where she’d watched us and a lot of other boats go aground.

During the summer, the setting is spectacular with the beach on one side and a pond on the other, complete with two kinds of turtles (snapping and box) and all sorts of waterfowl. But it is a summer cabin, and even with space heaters (provided by our landlady, who lives upstairs), it was cold and damp.

We did get to see wild turkeys, which are beautiful but shy birds, and cardinals. We also had some good meals out, thanks to our landlady’s suggestions, as well as going to the excellent maritime museum here. Deltaville is a small community, but the museum, about the history of boat building here, is well worth visiting, even if your interest in boats isn’t high.

We bid our landlady adieu today and moved onto DW. OSD was very happy to move. Unlike CR and all of the various motel rooms we were in on our road trip last November, she was anxious the entire time. Our landlady does have two rather yappy small dogs upstairs, but even when they were all gone on a trip one weekend, OSD still seemed on edge. As soon as it became clear we were moving, she couldn’t wait to jump in the car and ride the 5 minutes to the marina so she could get on the boat.

OSC, in contrast, settled in just fine at the rental house. When we went aboard DW, he was encouraged to remain on board, then took a couple of short walks down the dock. Later, I took the trash out to the dumpster, OSD followed me, and when I returned, no OSC. I called him, but got no response, no yowling, nothing. We needed to make a trip to the store, so put OSD below. When we returned about 30 minutes later, as we got close to the dock, OSC was right there curled up on the dock next to DW. Smart cat!

 

3/20/12: Deltaville, VA (still …) Tomorrow there is some prospect that if the weather cooperates, we may get out of here. People in the boatyard and at the marina have been very nice, but we have been anxious to be on our way. The work on DW was finally completed today. Paul still has one (we hope) minor wiring problem to be sorted out with the new autopilot, but the engine has been tested and sounds great, the new sail is rigged, and the ice box (alas, still the same 30 year old ice box) has a brand new block of ice, so we hope to be on our way as soon as the fog/murk lifts tomorrow.

Although we didn’t plan to spend a month here, being here has had its pleasures. Today we discovered the seafood store, which we’ve driven by probably fifty times. Oh, if only we had stopped sooner to find out how good it is! Not only do they have fresh seafood (fresh fish, clams, two kinds of scallops and shrimp from smallish to large), but they also have items prepared in-house:  wonderful shrimp salad, with cajun spicing, peppery tuna salad made  from fresh tuna, crab cakes, coleslaw, and another half dozen salads we didn’t buy. Fresh seafood and ice only last so long.

We got to know the local area fairly well, as well as communities like Gloucester and Gloucester Court House, the evocatively-named Kilmarnock (don’t you feel like you’re in Scotland when you say it?), as well as the small towns of Ordinary, Ware and Mathews. We spent a morning exploring historic Jamestowne and the glassworks there, which was a lot of fun, and went to Williamsburg, not for their historic sites, but for their Trader Joe’s. Yes, it would have been great to have gotten an earlier start, but it was fun to get to spend a bit of time here

Boatyard and marina staff have told us that this should be a good time to head down the ICW, as it shouldn’t be too busy. Before we leave tomorrow, I’ll call to find out about depths (In some places it may be iffy with our 5′ draft, though the Dismal Swamp channel is supposed to be dredged to at least a 6′ depth, and the ICW even deeper.

May you all have fair winds! More soon.

Jan
2
2012
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 15

10/29/11

Deltaville, VA

So this was a hard three days’ sail from Washington, DC. Heading back down the Potomac was fine: the second day, we had a 63 nm run, with beautiful sunny skies, the perfect tailwind, and a favorable current. The third day, we had 44 nm to go to get to Deltaville, and we had steady headwinds of from 15 to 23 knots, and an adverse current most of the time. Paul managed to resuscitate the autopilot to hold the tiller on one course, which turned out to be very helpful. Waves were fairly close together, but not high, mostly in the 1-2′ range, which was unpleasant, but manageable. The temperature had fallen, so with the winds in our face, it was cold!

Going into the Deltaville Marina was somewhat challenging, and I’m very grateful that we didn’t have to do it after dark. The channel was well-marked, but took a couple of doglegs, the first of which put us in 5′ depths!  It improved thereafter.

Deltaville is a small community with most services about a mile or so away. The nearest restaurant is about ¾ mi from the marina, and the small grocery store probably close to twice that. They do have a courtesy car you can use for up to an hour, but it’s first come, first served and, no, you cannot reserve the car! You have to wait for it to be returned.

We thought that Deltaville was tiny, but we rented a car this weekend, driving to the State capital, Richmond, and drove through miles and miles of countryside: very pretty, but not much out there. I love to have breakfast out, thinking that there would probably be lots of diners of the

Chimacum Cafe sort (basic American food, but very good – eggs and potatoes or omelettes and sausage, ham, or bacon, maybe pancakes for breakfast; hamburgers and fries for lunch) but it took about an hour before we found anything. We were the only ones in the place, and it took nearly half an hour before our food arrived. I’d ordered sausage gravy over biscuits, and am willing to bet that our food took so long because the cook had to make the biscuits. Oh, it was good! (On the other hand, Paul’s omelette wasn’t …)

Our trip to Richmond was interesting. VA has about the same number of people as WA, but it seems much more depressed. In the few towns we passed in the approximately 70 miles we travelled, there were a number of businesses that were closed: gift shops, car repair places, a few cafes. We needed bread, and looked on the trip back and found neither grocery stores nor bakeries.

We had only the terrible map in the AAA tour book. We looked in vain for a tourist information or visitor center, and finally stopped at a hotel in Richmond when the downtown Tourism and Convention Center proved to be open only during the week. We got a good map of Richmond, and was directed across the street to the entrance to the State capital grounds, where we were assured that the visitor center was open. They were closed, too! We did find the Capital building, the original part of which was designed by Thomas Jefferson in 1785 and completed in 1787. Called the “Temple on the Hill,” it was a lovely building, and the tour guide, Ms Turpin, was quite entertaining.

She offered a number of intriguing stories, two of which I’ll repeat here: Appearing in full regalia, representative members of the eight tribes of Virginia pay their taxes the morning before Thanksgiving Day; the taxes are set by the “new treaty,” dating from 1690. With ceremonial dancing and chanting, they present the governor with two deer, a beaver pelt and several wild turkeys, the latter of which are still alive and in cages. Media always attend, and the public is welcome. It would be so much fun to be there! The turkeys were reportedly quite disruptive last year.

Ms Turpin also urged us to go to Monument Drive and see the monuments in the middle of the street dedicated to various heroes of the Civil War (here often referred to as “the war of northern aggression”). She paused and said, “Those monuments are huge. Just imagine what they would be like if they’d won the war!” We did go see them, and they WERE huge!

Afterward, we found a coffee house near the University of the Virginia Commonwealth (UVC), where I tried an avocado item that was new to me. One of the other people in line gave it her vote of confidence. I’ve had avocado ice cream and, thanks to daughter Jeri who’s an aficionado, avocado bubble tea, but this was avocado fudge (vegan, of course). If you ever see it, buy it! It was quite decadent and delicious – mmmm, smooth, dark, and the essence of chocolate. Now I’ll have to search the internet to find a recipe.

We had some exciting times with OSC after we arrived in Deltaville. As I’ve mentioned before, he likes to leave DW and explore other nearby boats. He was on the next boat, having leaped to it from the small wood finger pier. Paul saw him, and he (OSC) wanted to return to DW in a hurry, but miscalculated slightly, and wound up in the water.

To our knowledge, he’s never been in the water before, but he immediately started swimming (the dog paddle!) and swam below the finger pier. Paul grabbed him as he came out the other side. He got him aboard DW, and I wrapped him in a towel to dry him off as much as I could. (It was still cold and breezy.) He was breathing a little hard when I first wrapped the towel around him, but he seemed fine within a few minutes, though it did take a while before he was completely dry.

Although the water temperature was much warmer than the air temperature was, it had to have been quite a shock. He was in the water for under a minute and swam probably about 4 or 5′ before Paul was able to pull him out. He was chastened by his fall and never tried to leave DW again while we were at that dock. Ah, but in later marinas, it was another matter, and he was up to his usual tricks. Now that he’s sporting a new orange collar with yellow flowers (and a tiny bell!), at least everyone knows that he’s no stray.

 

11/5/11:

Deltaville, VA (soon to be “on the hard”)

Our sailing has come to an end for the next few months, as DW is “in the shop.” I have commented before about our minor problems with our 30-year-old Bukh 10 hp diesel. Mechanics from St Peters, NS, to Baltimore, MD, have told us that we shouldn’t put any real money into it, and we’re at the point where some real money has to be spent to make some additional repairs. We swallowed hard and decided to have DW “repowered,” another way of saying that she’ll be getting a new engine, a Yanmar 20 hp, which is lighter, quieter, and more efficient than our Bukh. It’s only money …..! Our sail is also 30 years old, and although it is whole, it is very thin and soft. If you’ve ever felt a Dacron sail or sail material, you know that it’s very stiff, so, again, we’ve been very lucky, but it’s only a matter of time before the sail has a major failure. There’s also a sailmaker in Deltaville who gave us a good quote for a new junk sail, so that, too, will be made over the winter. When we return to Deltaville, DW will be practically as good as new and ready for new adventures as we head south.

 

11/7/11:

Newport News, VA

We bought a good 2000 Honda Passport from a dealer in Gloucester (GLOSS-tur, as opposed to MA, where it’s GLOUW-stur), which is the larger town near (about 25 miles from) Deltaville, so Paul and I, OSD and OSC, who are now “shipless,” and all the stuff we thought we’d need and could stuff into the car, are on a road trip to Savannah.

On 11/29, all of us (yes, pets –mascotas en español – included) fly to Costa Rica (CR). This trip was planned, though we thought it would be later in December, anticipating that we’d leave Savannah and find a good hurricane hole for DW before flying to CR. I’ll resume dispatches after we arrive there.

For those of you who are either retired and on Medicare or who are young enough that affordable health care isn’t an issue, this won’t mean much to you, but one of the reasons we’re going to CR, aside from the fact that both of us were utterly captivated by the people and the country when we were there, is to obtain affordable health care. We can get private health insurance for about one-third of what we’re currently paying, and once Paul’s COBRA coverage ends, we’ll be paying far more. So this is powerful motivation. (Plus, I may be able to improve my really bad Spanish!)

 

Jan
2
2012
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

Road Trip: Deltaville to Savannah

11/5/11:

Getting from Deltaville, VA, which is just south of the mouth of the Potomac, to Savannah, GA, about 700 miles away, required a rental car. We’d arranged a one-way rental, but the contract was very clear about pets in the car:   They. Were. Not. Allowed.  And if there was so much as a hint that a pet may have ridden in the car, the penalty would be $200.  So a one-week one-way car rental would have cost us nearly $800, and we’d still need to rent another car during Thanksgiving week.

The solution? Why, to look for an inexpensive old car in reasonable condition, of course. After chasing some dead end craigslist cars, we stopped at a used car dealer in Gloucester, the nearest large community, about 25 or 30 miles from Deltaville, and found a car we really liked and which seemed to fit the bill perfectly:   a 2000 Honda Passport, with around 172,000 miles on it.  As I pointed out to Paul, with its V6 engine, every gas station along the way would be its friend.  At least for the moment, gas is still under $4/gallon …..

In some respects, the car is probably the nicest one we’ve ever had:   4 wheel drive, a 6-CD changer (of course, we have no CDs to change),  leather seats,  sunroof (and a moonroof, which I’d heard of but never seen);  and roomy enough for us, the pets, the 4 duffel bags we were taking with us, and OSD’s gigantic kennel.

So after of our chores getting the boat winterized and ready for the work to be done, we loaded the car and took off.  OSD settled in immediately and OSC meowed for a time, then eventually found his preferred place next to my feet below the front seat. We had 700 miles to go, and more than a week in which to do it, as we didn’t need to be in Savannah until 11/13.  The scenic route was the order of the day, at least until we got tired of back roads.

 

11/7/11:

Newport News, VA

Because we had a lot of work to do to clean out DW,  moving perishables and other food from the boat and getting everything stowed, we didn’t leave until after 1500. Wanting to make things easy for OSC and OSD that first night, we stopped at an inexpensive motel in Newport News after not much more than two hours of travel. One of the duffel bags is dedicated to pet supplies,  so both have their familiar food dishes and OSD has her blanket.  OSC thoroughly explored the room, then settled in for a nap, a routine he repeated each time we stopped for the night.

 

11/8 – 9/11:

Kill Devil Hills, NC

The route to the Outer Banks was an irresistible draw for both of us: on the map,  a long, narrow spit of land with a road running down, the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the various sounds on the other.  We headed out US 158, and stopped at the excellent visitors’ center when we got to “OBX,” as signs and bumperstickers say.  We got great maps and information, including a guide with all accommodations on the Outer Banks, a rarity, as most similar guides only include restaurants and lodgings that advertise in the guide, so a lot of the less expensive options are rarely mentioned. The guide even included a column for “pet friendly” places, so we were all set!

After driving on Hwy 12 for a time, with rows and rows of vacation rental homes, all battened down, vacant and rather wind-blown at time of year, we headed a block or two to the west to the main drag, where we shortly found a wonderful motel, the Cavalier Lodge, which we liked so much we wound up staying two nights. The pet-friendly accommodations were in what they called “cottages,” which were attached single-story apartments, all two-bedroom, and all with full kitchens. Oksana, no longer a ship’s dog at all,  got to run along the beach, and even Mischa stalked imaginary prey in the sand. Very busy during the high season, there were only half a dozen vehicles, most in the pet-friendly section.

We visited the Wilbur and Orville Wright National Park site, complete with reconfigured sand dune near where they’d launched their plane. It was fun being real tourists!

 

11/10/11:

somewhere in North Carolina

Even though we’d only seen the northern Outer Banks, we were ready to head inland and back to the mainland. Although the road wasn’t particularly scenic – miles and miles of marshland and scrubby trees – we stopped at a place (I regret that I don’t remember its name) for lunch, and opted for the South Carolina barbecue. I had to have the brisket with their special South Carolina barbecue sauce, and it was probably the smokiest brisket I’d ever tasted. Lean, smoky, moist and absolutely delicious, maybe I let Paul have a small taste, but if I did, that’s all he got.  He’d ordered the pulled pork, which he liked as much as I did the brisket. I was looking forward to getting to South Carolina, but we never found its equal when we were there.

We crossed the ICW several times along the way, once along a causeway across a very wide sound with a very narrow channel marked near the middle, and once across a narrow waterway with trees lining either side.  It was both a thrill to cross over it and more than a little daunting to think about travelling along the ICW.

The NC coast is also famous for not being very kind to cruisers, with Cape Fear being well-named. The thing about the NC coast, like much of NY and NJ (and VA …) is that once one commits to being “outside,” in the Atlantic, there are few safe ports along the way, so if the weather turns, you have no choice but to ride it out.

 

11/11/11:

Gullah country, Beaufort (BYOO-furt, though some people also say BOO-furt), SC

As soon as we crossed into South Carolina, we saw palmetto palms! And whatever we may think of Gov Nikki Haley, SC has the best visitors’ centers yet, with great maps, lots of brochures, and helpful staff.  I am used to getting State maps at visitors’ centers, but VA had no visitors’ centers that we could find, and NC had only regional maps at their “Welcome Centers.”

Today was a long day of driving before we found an affordable, pet-friendly motel. Paul wanted to get to Beaufort, the only time on this trip that we had an actual destination we needed to reach, and we were both tired and crabby by the time we arrived. We were just happy to get there! Paul has talked for years with great relish about the Gullah country and the Low Country boil (seafood of all sorts in a spicy broth) that he’d had about ten years ago when he was at a conference in the area.

We stopped at a famous Gullah restaurant in the area, but the experience was just not to be duplicated. No Low Country seafood boil that we could find anywhere.  On the other hand, we did get to drink something called, “swamp water,” a concoction of sweet tea and lemonade, which was pretty good.  Now that we’re in the South,  Paul has to be careful when he orders tea to make sure he specifies “unsweet,” because otherwise it’s sweetened plenty.

 

11/12/11:

Hardeeville, SC

William Least Heat Moon talked about the small blue roads on the map in his wonderful first book, “Blue Highways,” and that was how we got to Hardeeville.  No scenic route noted,  just a shortcut on a small road instead of taking the main highway.  The unmarked road turned out to be breathtakingly beautiful, with live oaks draped with moss lining the road in places, sloughs and creeks crossing or following the roadway, and a few tiny communities along the way.

Hardeeville is one of those towns whose heyday was years ago, but seemed surprisingly large after the quiet, rural countryside. We found a pet-friendly, clean, older motel, checked in, and talked to the desk clerk about dinner possibilities.  He recommended a place nearby, which turned out to have great Southern food.  We got into a conversation with a couple of “snowbirds” (are we not the same, a couple of oldsters fleeing the cold?) who were eating at the restaurant for the first time, and liked it so much that they were “putting it on their list.”  They travel south every winter,  each in a separate car,  staying at the same places, and eating in the same restaurants.  Hardeeville was a new stop, as was this restaurant, and next year they’ll be back.

 

11/13-29/11:

Savannah!

Savannah is just a few miles from Hardeeville, so even with stops, it took little more than an hour to get here.  Savannah is beautiful, but terribly depressed. We saw blocks and blocks and blocks of once fine old homes in need of renovation. We stayed for a week in a home that had been renovated, in an apartment I found on craigslist. The owner is very interesting (more on her in a moment),  and for $275 for the week, it was a great deal.

Mischa was in cat heaven, as there were all sorts of cabinets in the kitchen which were high enough to make it challenging to leap up to, but easy enough to get down that only on the first occasion did he yowl (which we ignored).  Paul and Oksana got to know the neighborhood quite well.  About a block or so away, was a church, and every afternoon men lined up there to get a hot meal heavy on starch.  Paul had a hard time keeping Oksana from the discarded chicken bones!

A few blocks away was a tiny convenience store, a local chain called Chu’s, which we walked to several times.  There was also a Church’s fried chicken franchise about the same distance away. With both a kitchen available to us and the great restaurants in Savannah, we never made it to Church’s.

Our landlady has bought several of those formerly grand old homes for a pittance, just $25,000 or $30,000, but then has had to do a lot of sweat-equity to get them fixed up enough to be able to rent. Like the home she lives in, she is dividing the houses into apartments and then renting them, providing affordable rental units, while improving the homes.  A good deal for all concerned, though she has sometimes had to rush in order to meet city-imposed deadlines.

She was a post-doc on a fellowship to a prestigious West Coast university, attending a conference in Atlanta and drove to Savannah as a lark.  She fell in love with the city, never returned to the conference and resigned her fellowship because she was so beguiled by Savannah! She has been here ever since.

We spent enough time in Savannah that we got to know the city at least a bit.  I really liked it, though Paul wasn’t as enamored with it. There are a number of small parks or squares, as well as one large one.  Each small park is different, with fountains, sculptures and statues, walkways, trees, other landscaping, and each park has grand houses or apartment buildings facing it on several sides. Less noticeable with the parks a little farther out, one really starts to notice the mansions as you get closer to downtown. Keep in mind that we were in Savannah during the late fall;  in the springtime with everything blooming, the parks must be glorious!

Oct
28
2011
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 14

10/12/11:

Solomons Island, MD

Leaving St Michaels, we crept along the land, the chart plotter on high resolution so we could see buoys and other markers noted, and watch for them. Although the water depth was less than 15′ at times, it went no lower than 8′, so we never ran aground.

The trip to Solomons was quiet, with winds mostly calm, so motoring was in order. Near the end of my last watch, the light breeze was finally steady, at around 5 knots, so Paul raised the sail, which gave us an additional .5 knot of speed. I’d been watching a couple of sailboats off in the distance but headed in our direction, gaining on us because they’d put their sails up a bit earlier. (I have to admit that I didn’t notice if they eventually passed us or not.)

Oh, Solomons is a lovely place! It has the feel of a place in an older America. Most of the roads have no sidewalks; there’s a prosperous Catholic Church near the marina, and the parish priest is not lacking a sense of humor. We saw him as we were out walking the first evening we were here, and he made a crack about Halloween because he was in white robes. Across from the church is the parish office, and there is a sign in front of one of the parking spaces that reads: “Thou shall not park here.” (Someone was parked there.)

The marina where we’re staying is on a narrow strip of land, and you can see across the inlet to other marinas and restaurants. Looking in the other direction, there are boats and water, as well as another peninsula; to the east is the end of the spit of land we’re on., water and an island beyond that. Ah, and to the west is where we go if we want to walk to any of the services (West Marine, grocery stores, etc). It’s a very pretty town with a number of large houses, well-kept smaller ones, and has a quiet, sleepy feel, though the harbormaster, John, told me that the marina is very busy during the summer. He said that without a reservation,at that time of year there’d be no room for transients like us.

John may be part of the reason we’ve enjoyed being here so much. He has been quite gracious, even offering (and then lending) his truck to us so we could run some errands. The nearest grocery store is a fair hike, about a mile from here, and Paul noticed a Starbucks on the map, so really wanted to replenish his supply of Doubleshots (not available in most stores). Starbucks was definitely not within walking distance! Beyond Solomons, it’s strip-mall suburbia, but still interesting because we’ve never been in the area before. Different stores, different chains, different sensibilities: it’s all interesting!

 

 

 

 

10/14/11

Smith Creek, Potomac River, MD

“Minor coastal flooding” is a phrase we’ve all heard at one time or another, but we were to find out what that really means. When I called the marina in Smith Creek on the VHF, the staffer paused after I gave him our information, then asked me to use the phone to call the office. Unusual way of dealing with my call, and the office staffer was even more confused, not to say irritated, that he’d directed me to call her. It turned out that all the docks for transients were under water due to the  unusually high tides typical at this time of year. They decided to put us at the gas dock, which, once we got in, turned out to be the only dock not under water. Most marinas around here have fixed docks of the sort I described in another post, with a short fixed finger pier and pilings. Oh, for a floating dock! And high tide isn’t until much later this evening, so who knows what will happen with this last dock? (Later update: the high tide was lower than the tide we came in on, so the docks magically appeared and even dried off the next morning. When we came in, the whole area had a spooky, otherworldly appearance because of the lack of docks, “ghost” vessels seemingly tied to nothing other than a few pilings – and no way to gain access.)

Getting here was quite exciting in itself: winds forecast to be in the 10-15 knot range, with gusts to 20, though once we were out there, winds were steady at 20, with gusts of 30. To me it didn’t feel nearly as scary as the trip from Falmouth to Cape May, but as Paul pointed out, the waves had no chance to build, as the wind had only just come up. Being below was excitement enough, and at one point I was sharing the settee with both OSC and OSD.

 

10/15/11:

St Mary’s River, MD

Adverse winds forced us to make a short trip to the next port, St Mary’s River, perhaps six or seven nm from Smith Cove. We are staying at a marina that is a sister marina (sister cities, so why not sister marinas?) to the marina in Solomons. The marina itself has the usual pilings and short finger pier, and seems fairly run-of-the-mill, though you’d never know it from people’s comments. One couple on another sailboat on the same dock told us that they were moving their boat (and themselves) to Norfolk, VA, and they wanted to spend a last weekend here. They clearly felt great fondness for this place. Another woman told me that she and her husband had both a large sailboat and a power boat (yacht) berthed at the marina, and have been there for seven years, commenting that it’s the best marina around.

The area is certainly quiet and bucolic, and beautiful. The marina has a large area for group picnics, a pool, and other facilities, and no doubt it’s anything but quiet in season! Ah, but it would still be both bucolic and gorgeous. At the end of the inlet is a well-kept farm and white buildings with red roofs. Directly across from us is an area of trees, and there are a few sand spits and grasses jutting out near the channel. It is lovely.

 

10/16/11:

Cobb Island, MD

What a difference a day makes! The weather is sunny, with light winds, and this marina is has the usual arrangement of finger piers and pilings, with Paul getting better and better at backing DW in so all lines can be made secure. A number of people were on their boats, getting ready to head south or doing a few last-minute chores before getting their boats ready for winter.

One sailor who will be sailing with friends to the Bahamas aboard their boat loaned Paul his large wrench so Paul could tighten the bolts on the stuffing box on the shaft. Shortly after one of my watches was over, I noticed water below the floorboards in a place I hadn’t recalled seeing it before. Relieving Paul on deck, his investigation revealed a slow (not that slow!) leak,which he pumped out, after which I took my turn keeping the bilge as dry as I could. We were only a few hours from Cobb Island when the leak was discovered. Tightening the bolts was a good temporary fix, though replacing the shaft goes on the longer-term repair list. Paul had hit a crab pot he hadn’t seen dead on earlier in the day, and he thinks that is what caused the problem.

You never know what you’re going to find in a small town near the marina. The marina used to have a restaurant attached to it, but it closed a while ago. Some of the people out doing work on their boats suggested a nearby restaurant called the Scuttlebutt. We walked the half block there, both very hungry because it was long after the usual time for lunch. The inside had been taken over by local football fans, most of whom were wearing the jerseys of their favorite players – Redskins maybe? – with a lot of groaning and cheering. We sat outside in the warm, sunny air, and the bartender/waiter came over to take our orders. Small as the restaurant is, they make their own pulled pork and coleslaw. Oh, it was good; probably the best meal out we’d had in days! Although we didn’t get to talk to him for long, he told us about his own long-term sailing plans, hoping to retire in about a year. All I can say is, if he’s the one who cooked the pork and made the cole slaw, I hope he passes the recipes on to the next owner! I will compare all pulled pork to that sandwich …

 

10/23/11:

Capital Yacht Club,

Washington Channel, Washington, DC

Weather predictions were again unfavorable, so we hurried and arrived a day earlier than we’d planned. And we found a place that felt like home for the first time on this trip. Too bad it was in the humid, former swamp of Washington, DC, where summers are hot and humid (and it never cools off at night) and the winters are cold and damp.

Capital Yacht Club is the most welcoming place we have ever been. Staff have been very friendly; members not only have all sorts of suggestions, but they have welcomed us into their club, inviting us to have coffee and to participate in their activities.I wandered over there on several mornings and wound up in conversations that spanned the gamut from the usual places to go to politics, books, local gossip, and shortcuts to local Metro stops. I felt quite a pang when we left.

Going up the Potomac was certainly a long haul (98 miles from the mouth of the Potomac to DC, and then, of course, the same distance heading south), but, oh, was it worth it! We took pictures as we passed Mt Vernon, and seeing the first glimpse of the Washington Monument was absolutely thrilling. When we had the Capitol building in sight, we discovered that the channel along the Potomac headed straight for it!

In the introduction to the chapter about the Potomac, the cruising guide went on and on about all of the anchorages and marinas. What wasn’t said is that there are vast swaths that are inaccessible because the shoreline is part of a military base or other installation. We got accustomed to a certain lack of detail in some places on the chart plotter, but in one case, there were actually black rectangles blocking all information other than about the channel itself! At any moment as we were approaching the area, I expected the GPS function on the chart plotter to be disabled until we got past it, though, happily, that never happened. In some cases, nothing was visible from the shoreline other than vegetation; in other cases, you could see some buildings, but neither of us could tell what they were. Quantico Air Base, Ft Belvoir: those places were on our chart, but there were others that were simply blacked out. It was certainly interesting.

If the weather forecast holds, we resume our trip tomorrow, heading down the Potomac and south. It’s definitely feeling like fall, with lows in the upper 30s and strong southwesterlies in store. Time to make tracks!

Oct
13
2011
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 13

10/1/11

Tidewater Marina, Winan Cove

Baltimore, MD

Sometimes things don’t go exactly as planned. The boat gods (are there boat gods in Greek mythology?) certainly were not pleased. Paul had some work to do, so wanted to get an early start from Worton Creek (another beautiful anchorage, but with no internet access despite having a marina nearby), so Paul was on his way at first light, around 0530, on Friday, expecting to get to Baltimore around noon. About 3-1/2 hours into the trip, the engine started smelling very hot (overheated diesel isn’t a pleasant smell or one you soon forget), so he turned off the engine, and I went up to take the helm while he figured out what was going on.

We had the current slightly against us, and with very light winds, we weren’t going anywhere very fast, so a noon arrival in Baltimore was extremely unlikely. Winds were on the nose, so I had to tack back and forth across the wind, sometimes making .8 knot, sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. (At 12 nm away, a midnight arrival in Baltimore didn’t make either of us very happy.) Eventually the winds strengthened, the adverse current eased, and we went faster, close to 3 knots as I continued to tack back and forth. Winds were as much as 16 or 17 knots, but DW is so easy to sail (and there was little chop or swell because there hadn’t been time for them to build), that it was just great to be at the helm. Without the engine, DW is very well-balanced, so once you have her going, you don’t have to keep your hand on the tiller. When I tacked (moving the bow of the boat across the wind), I just moved the tiller enough so that DW was 15 or 20 degrees in the other direction, then took my hand off the tiller and let DW do the rest: 21, 25, 26 degrees, and she’d eventually find a course of around 28 or 29 degrees off the wind and would hold it much better than I ever could. Oh, it was sweet!

Paul took the helm a few hours later, having determined the problem with the engine, but not the solution. I called the nearest marina and arranged a berth and a tow into the dock. They met us maybe a quarter mile from the marina, and the transition was so smooth that only way I could tell that something had happened was that OSD started barking and growling because the tow boat got close and someone threw Paul the tow lines. The service manager didn’t charge us for the tow, despite the towing crew waiting for us until well after their quitting time of 1630 (4:30 pm).

The marina is in an industrial area. Dockage is very reasonable, but there’s nothing other than a couple of large ships (we’re talking Navy ships here: 11 decks, as someone told Paul, not your piddly little container ships) and a working boatyard. A cruise ship terminal is about 1000′ away as the crow flies, but probably at least as mile or two by land, and their horn warning passengers that the vessel is about to leave sounded as if it was right next to us when it blew. No nightclubs or wedding party noise, but no grocery stores, either. We are just a couple of blocks from the bus to downtown Baltimore, though, so it’s fine.

And there’s only one thing I can say about Baltimore: people here are just so nice! Starting with Jeff, the service manager here, to people waiting at bus stops to store clerks to random people on the street, there’s a level of helpfulness and just plain niceness that we haven’t seen since we left Nova Scotia.

We got on the wrong bus (Paul asked if it went “downtown,” but what we actually wanted was the “inner harbor”), and one of the passengers heard us talking when we were in the downtown area, and told us we needed to get off at that stop and go the other way. The driver couldn’t tell us exactly how to go, but the woman who’d talked to us found us after we got off and told us where to catch another bus and which bus she thought was the one we needed (she was right). Other people have equally helpful and/or friendly, quick to offer suggestions or strike up a conversation. Can you tell I love Baltimore?

We also met up with some friends we’d met in Cape May — Bob and Sharon — who live in the Baltimore area. Bob works on one of the restored historical  vessels in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, so we got to tour that ship (including some areas that usually aren’t part of the public tour), as well as the USS Constellation. The Coast Guard’s Tall ship, The Eagle, also happened to be in port and open for public tours, so we also were able to tour that vessel and talk to some of the cadets assigned to a two-week tour. We had a great time with Bob and Sharon and touring the ships!

Paul went back the next morning and took more photos of The Eagle, and there were crew members everywhere:  on the deck, in the rigging, on the spars. It turned out that they were preparing to leave port because the following day The Eagle had departed. We were so lucky to have been in Baltimore when The Eagle was in town and open to the public! One of the crew (not a cadet) told us that The Eagle would be leaving the East Coast and heading to Europe and Russia, then would be back on the West Coast in something like 2015. When I asked how they would get back, the crewman’s comment (and Paul’s at almost the same time) was, “through the Panama Canal, of course.”  He pointed out that the only other option would be to go around Cape Horn. I guess I knew that, but opened my mouth before I thought about it!

 

Finding a mechanic to help Paul with the solution to the engine problem wound up being quite a project. DW has an old, uncommon engine, parts for which aren’t often in stock, and although we didn’t have any problem finding a mechanic in Nova Scotia or in Maine (well, okay, we were at a Hinckley mooring when we needed a mechanic in Maine), that isn’t the case here. The marina where we are doesn’t have anyone able or willing to work on the engine, and of the mobile mechanics, only one was willing to talk to me. He talked to me several times, talked Paul through some possible fixes, then drove an hour from another job so he could figure out what was wrong. He found three problems, two of which he had parts for so Paul could do the fix himself, and one which Paul ordered from Ontario, Canada.

The mechanic,Jim Stitz, turned out to be a sailor, and wound up charging us for half the time he was actually here, and nothing for the parts he had or for the transit time. Paul and I both also had a great time talking to him.

We’ll be here probably through Wednesday or Thursday, while we wait for the new thermostat to arrive and be installed by Paul. We are very lucky that the repairs were so reasonable. I had visions – nightmare would be a better term, though I was wide awake – of our having to buy a new engine, a prohibitive expense which would require our spending several weeks off the boat. So this was very good news, indeed.

[Update: the thermostat arrived the following day, and Paul installed it shortly thereafter. In testing the engine, it ran fine and did not overheat, so it would appear that solved the problem!]

While we were at the marina, Paul climbed the mast and took a picture of the masthead light, which he knew wasn’t working. It wasn’t the bulb, but turned out to be the fixture itself, which was sheared off part way down with cracks going through it. A fairly sturdy fixture, Paul couldn’t imagine what could have caused it. (Can you make a guess before I offer mine?) I pointed out that Hurricane Irene blew through the boatyard in Portland and even though the winds only reached 45 knots, it was also carrying lots of debris along with the winds. I believe that some debris hit the masthead light during the storm. I again feel so grateful that we didn’t have to weather the storm aboard DW!

 

10/9/11, Annapolis, MD

THE Boat Show!

Annapolis, like Reno, NV, is a “small big city” (I think that Reno’s motto is or used to be “The biggest little city in the world, and it could be Annapolis’. Great walking streets: brick sidewalks, very pedestrian-friendly, and both the State capital and Naval Academy are here, a lot is going on and there’s a lot of money in this community.

We got to stay in a slip at a condo complex in Spa Creek, just a short ride (more on that in a moment) from the boat show, thanks to the efforts our friend Alice went to in connecting us with her friends (and now ours) Frances and Greg. We had no idea how fortunate we were until we got to the event known as the Annapolis Sailboat Show.

We walked to the boat show from their condo, then wandered around talking to vendors about our long list of items needed, the two most important being the previously-mentioned masthead light and a sturdier replacement autopilot. As the day wore on, it got more and more crowded (not to mention hotter), and we eventually had to shoulder our way through the crowd in order to get to where we needed to go.

Everyone we had talked to about the boat show told us how enormous it was. How much larger it is than Seattle’s boat show I couldn’t quite tell, but what is different is that the vendors here include their heavy hitters. We stopped by the Edson booth (autopilot arm), and the staffers at the booth included the president, the general manager, and the vice president of Edson – not quite who’d be at the Seattle show! It was great because Paul had pictures and dimensions for our tiller and the space below and the general manager was able to look at the picture, show us an autopilot arm, explain how they would modify it to make it work, tell us the cost, and how long it would take for them to make it. Anywhere else and the staffer would have had to “get back to us.”

The best part of the boat show was how we travelled to and from the show and downtown: by water taxi! With fares based on distance, it cost us $4/per person to ride the water taxi from the slip in Spa Creek to the Boat Show. You could call the water taxi on the phone or hail them on VHF channel 68, and it was quite entertaining to listen in on channel 68 for a while on Saturday, the Boat Show’s busiest day, as boaters called in fast and furiously to request pickups, the four water taxis called in to the dispatcher to verify information and to let him know when they’d be arriving at the Boat Show. The dispatcher also talked to them to find out where they were and how many passengers were already on board,. I don’t know how the poor dispatcher managed to keep all of the details straight! People on excursion vessels ready to return to town; people at the dock ready to head back to their boats or other restaurants; boaters awaiting pickup (“this is the white boat in the anchorage, and I need to be picked up to go to the boat show.” There are several hundred boats out in the anchorages, the vast majority of them with white hulls, so time had to be spent figuring out WHICH boat and WHERE.), but somehow the dispatcher was able to keep track of it all.

 

10/11/11, St Michaels, MD

The route here was very interesting, motoring through calm winds and very shallow water across this wide bay. The shallow water alarm went off several times and Paul did go aground in the mud a couple of times. No damage, just back up and get to higher water. This was our first experience with this particular kind of running aground, but from what we’ve both read about the ICW and “thin” (shallow) water, it won’t be our last.

We were in St Michaels a few years ago, driving through this charming, historic town. Maybe it’s the economy or that perhaps the marine businesses depend on seasonal customers, but we both felt somewhat put off on this visit. The marinas we called were expensive, and when Paul stopped at the fuel dock by the town pier, the staffer tried to gouge him for the small propane canister he needed. Usually in the $3 range at a hardware store, the staffer played a “how much will you pay for this” game, starting with $12.95 and eventually getting down to $7 or $8, which was their retail price, still a lot more than would be typical.

There really are lots of opportunities for businesses to take advantage of cruisers: we don’t have access to transportation; we may be in need of an emergency repair; services may be few and scattered. All of that being said, we have in all previous cases been treated with kindness and have paid fair (if not deeply discounted) prices. An extra $4 or $5 for a propane canister? Small potatoes, but it left a lasting impression and only demonstrates how wonderful most people have been up to this point.

Seen from the water, St Michaels is a flat harbor with beautiful trees, several very old (historic?) sailing vessels, a storied screwpile lighthouse, and many large homes. I wish we had more time to explore, but the forecast is for deteriorating weather, so we’ll be pushing on to Solomons Island …..

Oct
3
2011
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 12

9/19/11

Goodbye, RI, CT, NY, and hello … NJ?

Cape May, NJ

The forecast was for strengthening north or northeasterly winds beginning this past Saturday, so Paul thought that having winds on a broad reach (winds blowing on the side of the boat near the stern) or dead downwind (winds behind us) and following seas would be a good way to go. I was concerned that each day’s forecast was for increasing sustained winds and higher seas, but he was seduced by that N to NE winds forecast, which rarely happens for longer than a day or so in this neck of the woods.

We set up a better watch schedule and left Falmouth about 0400 on Saturday, motorsailing with good winds and calm seas (about 1′ waves). Cuttyhunk Island was about 30 miles and Block Island (RI) about 13 miles further. Cape May, our destination on this leg was about 260 miles, or 65 hours at 4 knots/hr, which is what we assume for average cruising speed.

We passed Block Island around 1400 (2 pm). At that point, the choice was to go “inside,” through Long Island Sound, with Long Island to the east of us and the RI and CT shore to our west, then through the often very dicey East River and several very narrow (for NYC) channels with lots of traffic and currents; or “outside” in the Atlantic, with Long Island to our west. Regardless of which we chose, the long, unfriendly NJ coast would have to be run.

On the one hand, the inside route allowed for stopping whenever we wished, but Long Island Sound can build up some nasty chop because it’s a long sound open to the east, and it is a longer trip than the outside route. On the other hand, there are very few places outside that would be safe to enter in adverse weather (the first really safe harbor is nearly to NYC at East Rockaway, at least 70 miles from the end of Long Island).

Since winds and seas were benign, we stayed outside and made excellent time. By the time of my last watch of the night (0200 through 0400 on Sun morning), winds had strengthened to their predicted 10-15 knots and seas were building. I got sick,OSC found a place and refused to move, and OSD became more anxious as DW’s motion got more violent. Winds got stronger, though never really bad, seas continued to build, and Paul eventually shut off the motor, as we were consistently doing 6 knots or more, which continued under sail alone, already reefed with one panel down.

I remained nauseous for the remainder of the trip; OSC didn’t move for more than 24 hours – everything banging around him, but he’d found a warm, soft place in the quarter berth, where nothing moved. OSD had a hard time keeping her footing, so I put her in the sea berth (a hinged board can be tilted up and bolted securely to make a sturdy wall of about 18” along the side of the berth to keep the person – or dog in this case – from rolling or falling out of the berth) and went in there, too.

Seas continued to build, and the sustained winds got up to the predicted 20 knots with gusts to 25. At some point, Paul reduced sail again so a second panel was down. Seas reached the 8′ predicted level (highest one third, with a few swells as much as twice that). I don’t think we experienced any 16′ seas, though 10 – 12′, maybe, Because I felt so awful, Paul handled the tiller most of the time, adjusting the autopilot and the sails until the autopilot got overpowered by the following seas, when it quit more than 20 hours before we got to Cape May. That meant that all that time, Paul was hand-steering except for the few breaks I was able to give him.

At one point, we had a discussion as to whether to go to into the harbor at Cape May or spend an additional four hours going to a harbor of refuge at Cape Henlopen. Paul did not want to enter Cape May, an unfamiliar harbor, during the night. He was so tired that even though we arrived during the dead of night, he headed toward the Cape May Canal. Someone operating a huge dredging machine hailed him on Channel 16 on the VHF radio and told him where to go to both avoid the jetty (Paul  was heading toward it) and the dredge, which was also heading down the channel into Cape May Harbor. Thanks to his direction, we headed in and just a few minutes later, Paul found an anchorage that wasn’t listed in the guidebook, where we anchored. It was calm, warm, and safe:  we were all relieved and slept well for the first time in two days.

We did get here, nerves rattled, but DW performing beautifully, and it was a very fast trip: 46 hours, with our arriving at an anchorage near the Cape May Canal about 0200, for an average speed of nearly 6 knots. Paul had been in worse conditions on the coast off northern California, but I’d never experienced anything like that for such a long period.

We’ve also left early fall behind. The last few mornings in Falmouth felt crisp and clear, and nights were down into the lower 50s or even upper 40s: cold enough that we closed the companionway door at night and even threw on another blanket. Here in Cape May, though, it still feels like late summer, and despite the Jersey accents, has a southern feel. We’re not in New England anymore!

We moved to Utsch Marina and have been talking to people on other boats about where to go: Jerry and his friend George from Long Island, who were taking Jerry’s beloved Island Packet “Julia” to the boat broker’s to be sold; Bob and Sharon, getting ready to have their boat hauled until next spring; and Jeremy and Janet, aboard their American Tug 34, “Tardis,” heading to Norfolk to leave their boat in a marina before heading home to FL. All of them had some great suggestions about places to go in the Chesapeake, Potomac, and beyond, so among all of their ideas and our new friend Frances’ suggestions, we’ll have some great places to visit.

We were at Utsch Marina for a couple of days. OSD is getting much better about barking and growling at those on other boats, though she does occasionally still have issues with a few people. OSC, whether because of the passage or just general restlessness, wanted off the boat something awful, and went exploring on several occasions. I was very concerned, and the first few times either retrieved him myself or had help from others. Bob of Bob and Sharon said that they have 10 cats at home and knew exactly what to do to help me corral OSC. This morning, we were getting ready to leave to head up Delaware Bay and into the C & D Canal, and despite the light rain, OSC managed to escape, but returned a few minutes later on his own. So I guess he’s getting to recognize DW and know that DW is his home. (I continue to be nervous about his leaving DW, however.)

 

 

9/22/11

somewhere in DE in the Delaware River

Imagine, if you will: it is full dark, the seas are calm, air is warm and very humid. To one side you can see a red and a green flashing light on buoys marking the channel; a bit further in the distance is a very bright white flashing light, higher up, marking the junction between two channels; and at a greater distance on the other side, another set of red and green flashing lights. Above you are stars. The wake from passing tankers and other large ships occasionally rocks the boat. Now imagine that you are OSC, walking around the deck of DW. Can you imagine a more alien environment? And yet he seemed perfectly content. We were anchored for the night at “General Anchorage #4” just outside the two channels, one running to Philadelphia and Camden, NJ, and the other to the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal., the latter of which we’ll be taking tomorrow.

We’ll be spending a little more than a month in the Chesapeake, the highlight of which will be heading up the Potomac to visit WA, DC, where our older daughter lives. We’ve been to DC any number of times, but seeing it from the water will be something else entirely.

 

9/24/11:

Havre de Grace, MD

After going through the C & D Canal, which wasn’t nearly as scenic as the Cape Cod Canal, just grassy or brushy vegetation on both banks with flat terrain, we stopped in Chesapeake City, our first experience with a FREE town dock. There were fees for both water and electricity, but we needed neither. Facilities were very nice indeed, with a nearly new wooden pier fronting on a beautifully landscaped small park, with brick walkways and even a gazebo. And it was right next to the small downtown. What a find!

We had dinner at a nice restaurant (The Bayard House) about half a block – at most – from the dock. It had been sprinkling, but the heavens suddenly opened up, and by the time we left, rain was streaming down the windows and running down the street. Paul made a mad dash, and wound up going through the forward hatch because he thought it would be faster than opening the companionway. I followed, opting for the companionway, and even with my umbrella open, my feet and pants from just above the knee down were soaked – luckily I always wear my waterproof Teva sandals. It was quite warm, certainly above 70, so wasn’t really unpleasant, just a shock. So we’ve now had our first real experience with a Mid Atlantic (States) rainstorm. No doubt it won’t be the last.

Chesapeake City is charming, but there’s very little here to interest a cruiser. The homes in the small downtown area near the waterfront are historic and mostly beautifully maintained, but they’re filled with dusty antique shops and the like, with a few cafes and one bakery thrown in. I complained to Paul about this, who pointed out that having a concentration of a particular niche will be a draw for people interested in that niche. Ah, but if someone isn’t looking for that particular niche market, there’s nothing to hold the person there. It seems to me that having a mixture of both whatever the niche market is and other retail of more general interest would be more likely to be useful. In any case, there was no grocery store or laundromat within walking distance, so when the current was favorable the following morning, we left. (The limit at the town dock was 24 hours, so we needed to be on our way, anyway.)

It took just a few hours to get to Havre de Grace, on the west side of the upper Chesapeake. As with Chesapeake City, its heyday has come and gone, but it’s a lovely place. The Havre de Grace Historic Preservation Society has a free brochure for a self-guided tour of the historic community, and it has been a welcome change of pace for walking. Havre de Grace, which seems like a charming small town, was a hub of activity in the 1800s, the largest and most important town in the area. In 1789 it vied with Washington, DC, to be named the new nation’s capital, losing by just one vote. Walking the quiet, tree-lined streets, it’s hard to imagine.

We are at a place called Tidewater Marina, and when I called them on the radio about whether it was a port (left) side tie or a starboard (right) side tie, the staffer said, “you’ll need lines all around,” which I couldn’t picture. Not quite a “med-moor,” where you tie up to the dock with your stern facing it and you put a plank out to walk from the stern of the boat to the dock, the docks here have the most interesting arrangement for docking that I’ve ever seen. There are short, maybe 15′ long docks, and cleats and pilings. You back in, lines from your boat crossing from one side to the other are made fast to the cleats on the dock on land, then you attach your lines to pilings next to your bow. The small dock next to the boat is fixed, so depending on the level of the water, you may be stepping across or have to climb up. The piling next to “our” dock has a couple of handles conveniently attached, though not all pilings are so equipped. You never know what you’re going to find!

We’re here for a few days, then continuing south slowly: Baltimore, Annapolis for the sailboat show in early October, then DC …..


Sep
16
2011
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 11

 

9/15/11

Falmouth, MA

It’s interesting that we’ve run into several of the same boats at different ports. Last night we were in Sandwich, waiting for a fair (good) current with which to transit the Cape Cod Canal, an Army Corps of Engineers project that is about eight miles long (longer if all of the dredged channel is included) and some 500′ wide. One sailboat, the “Kelly IV,” was tied up near us at our previous port in Scituate. We agreed to meet for drinks, and it turned out the skipper had invited another sailor, a single-hander (he has two hands, but because he’s sailing alone, he’s referred to as a “single-hander,” having no other crew or “hands” with him) from the French possession of St Miquelon, Island north of Nova Scotia. It turns out that we met the Frenchman in Shelburne, NS! We are discovering the world of cruisers is not a large one.

The cruising guide lists marinas in the various towns, villages, etc, as well as other information, including the number of slips and mooring buoys they have. One of the marinas in Scituate was listed as having 600 mooring buoys, which I assumed was a typo. Wrong! I called one of the marinas listing mooring buoys (not the one with 600), and right away I could tell that something was a little different there because the staffer said, “I’ll meet you at buoy 8 and take you to the mooring because they’re scattered around.” We motored into the harbor, and there were mooring buoys everywhere,

After leaving Scituate (SIT-choo-it), we motorsailed to Sandwich. I wasn’t looking forward to another rolly run of 7+ hours,but thanks to the strong push from the current, we were averaging more than 6 knots and got there in 4-1/2 hours. That was nothing compared to the Cape Cod Canal! (The current came back to haunt us later.)

We checked the current table and talked to the marina office in Sandwich. The tide was predicted to change about 0900 the following morning and the recommendation for catching the best current was to leave at 10. Paul, however, saw some sailboats going through earlier, so decided to join them, leaving closer to that 0900 time. The Cape Cod Canal was beautiful: parkland on both sides of the canal, with a grassy strip for pedestrians and bicyclists, many trees, flowering shrubs, and it was a gorgeous, sunny morning. In the meantime, we were motoring (no sailing in the Canal even though there was a nice breeze) and the gps kept registering higher and higher speeds. What matters is the speed over the ground, not through the water, and the former is the number the gps displays; the other electronic instrument Paul has is there primarily for wind speed and direction, but it also displays speed through the water, which can be helpful for seeing how much of a factor the current is. If the numbers are the same, there is no current; if the gps displays a higher speed, there is favorable current; if the gps displays a lower speed, the current is adverse. The speed was 7.5 knots … then 7.8, … 7.9 … and 8.0! It peaked at 8.4 knots, and we were through the 8 mile long canal in not much more than an hour.

Because of the weather forecast, Paul decided to go through the pass at Wood’s Hole and on to Falmouth. My suggestion was to pull into a nearby port and wait for a few hours because our currents book recommended going through the passage at Wood’s Hole later than we’d be arriving. There was a perfect wind, and we were doing around 6 nm under sail alone, so Paul decided he didn’t want to waste the wind and started going through Wood’s Hole, which is S-shaped. So initially the current was with us, then we had current against us, but it was still fine because we were going 5-1/2 knots through the water and still making about 3 nm overground (so about 2-1/2 knots of current against us). Okay, so far so good.

Then we got to the first bend and the wind dies down a little, so we’re now making about 2 knots over ground. Then the current gets stronger and the wind continues to die … and we get to the final bend and as I’m watching the buoy marking the channel, I can see we’re going backward! Paul starts the engine, but the current is so strong that we’re still at 0.0 knots (and we discovered that it doesn’t register negative speed – it’s all 0.0), but at least we’re not going backward anymore. Paul revs up our poor 10 hp inboard engine and finally is able to make a little headway: .4, then .7, then – lo and behold! – back up over 1 knot, and we’re finally through the worst of it and doing fine. The entire pass is only about 1 to 1.5 mi long, but it probably took us 45 minutes to get through it, and felt like much longer.

In the middle of the passage at Wood’s Hole is where the entrance to the renowned Wood’s Hole Oceanographic Institute is located, and while Paul was struggling to keep DW under control and on course, I watched a ferry dock at the Institute. If we had their engine, I guess we could, too! Both the Cape Cod Canal and Wood’s Hole were beautiful, but Wood’s Hole was definitely treacherous: the water looked as if it was boiling in places, and there were several places with standing waves. A lot of water going through a tiny space, much like the passages along the northern part of Vancouver Island, where there are lots of islands and the mainland is very close. (Those places have sufficiently strong current – at least twice as strong as what we experienced at Wood’s Hole – that only high speed vessels with a lot of horsepower dare go through at anything other than slack water.)

 

Wasn't able to catch it at 0.0, but this is close enough!

From Wood’s Hole it was only about 2 or 3 nm to Falmouth, and after all the excitement, the rest of the trip was uneventful. We are actually at the town pier because the off-season rates at this brand-new set of docks is $1/’. It is such a luxury to be able to leave the boat as we choose, and if Paul wants access to the internet, he can walk to Starbucks, while I walk to one of the grocery stores – or he can walk to West Marine, which is about a block away, if he’s doing a project on board DW.

The down side of being at a dock rather than a mooring buoy is that OSC has discovered the connection the dock has to the wider world. Many people around here now know OSC because he’s jumped off the boat so many times. Even though it’s been quite humid, we’ve taken to keeping the mosquito netting in place to deter him.

We are enjoying spending time in Falmouth, a large town comprised of several “villages,” which have differing character. The marina is is Falmouth itself. Although there’s an upscale market nearby, the oddly named Windfall Market, the neighborhood seems middle class rather than anything else. We didn’t think about it until we walked in a different direction to get to the library, which brought to the very upscale Falmouth Village, which has clothing boutiques, a beautifully manicured town green, many restaurants, banks, etc. On Thursday, there was a farmer’s market, but we didn’t need $25 bottles of artisanal olive oil (which one stand had available for purchase, no doubt to go along with the $8 loaves of bread available at another booth). Starbucks, the larger grocery store, and Walmart are in one direction, while Falmouth Village, where the library is located, is in a different direcrtion, so we’ve done a lot of walking. It’s something that is just part of cruising: walk, find public transportation, or take a taxi if one is available. Paul has always done a lot of walking and bicycling, but I’m sure I’m healthier if not thinner!

We leave Falmouth on Saturday, continuing to head south.

Sep
7
2011
East Coast, Uncategorized By | No comments yet

East Coast Sailing: Dispatch 10

8/31/11

Isles of Shoals, ME/NH

Yesterday DW finally went back into the water around 1330 (1:30 pm),, and after getting everything put away, we were ready to head off about 45 minutes later. The thing about the southern Maine coast is that there are few ports and those there are are up rivers and subject to strong currents and shoaling. I proposed one place, but when we got close just as the sun was setting, it proved to be too open to wind and waves. Paul wanted to sail all night, but I really didn’t, although it was clear that whatever we wound up doing, we couldn’t anchor there. The next location was, under normal motoring speed, about an hour away. But, of course, we weren’t going at a normal speed, as no sooner than darkness fell, the current went against us and we were making about 2 knots, so we would have arrived at our next destination about 3 to 4 hours later. And on the chart and in the cruising guide, it didn’t look any better than the place we’d just rejected.

 

Having no better option, and since it was on the way anyway, we headed to destination #2, Saco River. The current eventually improved, so we began making better time. Between the chart plotter and Paul’s navigation, he found the anchorage, which was well out of the swells. DW hit no rocks , ledges, or sandbars going in, but we could hear waves breaking on nearby rocks all night, as well as the faint sound of a bell buoy, which could sometimes be heard ringing over the sound of the breakers.

We were both up at first light and discovered what a dramatic place Paul happened to anchor! The sun was rising as we motored out – too calm even to raise the sail – and it was just gorgeous. We motorsailed under sunny skies and light winds (and amid many lobster pots – did I mention the lobster pots?) to some stark, rocky islands on the Maine/New Hampshire border, the Isles of Shoals. It is hard to imagine that these were home to 600 fishermen and their families. Almost equally difficult to imagine is that a large retreat center is housed on one of the islands. Incongruous, indeed, and on one of these rather rocky and scrubby islands about 6 nm from the mainland.

 

9/1/11:

Gloucester Bay, MA

The weather was as forecast, with light winds and little or no swell. Since we were heading toward Cape Ann, which sticks out from the MA coast, we mostly travelled about 5 or 6 nm offshore. Except for the area close to Isles of Shoals and approaching Cape Ann, we saw no lobster pots, but something new: scores of fishing boats! Referred to as “draggers,” I counted as many as 20 visible at one time as I scanned the horizon.

Neither mooring buoys nor internet is available, so tomorrow it’s on to Boston, where we’ll be for four or five days. I am excited about stopping there, as we’ll be meeting our daughter’s fiance’s parents. It’s also been many years since I’ve been there (fewer for Paul due to work-related trips), so it will be a lot fun to go to museums, parks, and have some great food.

 

9/6/11:

Boston, MA

What a beautiful, dramatic harbor: tall buildings befitting THE major New England urban center, spectacular architecture (equally spectacular when many of the buildings are lit up at night), Lots of marine traffic: a variety of water taxis, many private and one public ferry company, lots of pleasure boats and yachts, and a few tugs, all of them, every single one, going at speed. “Leave no wake” is for sissies, not for Bostonians, that’s for sure. As we were heading in, we were under the flight path of planes heading from Logan International Airport, and one flew right over us, maybe 100′ above our heads. Pretty amazing to be so close!

The marina where I reserved a mooring buoy – we arrived on 9/2 – is called Boston Waterboat Marina. Altough modern in every way, it is an old, old marina, located on historic Long Wharf, and is right downtown. A great grocery store (the upscale Golden Goose), the T, Boston’s public transportation system, and –egad! – scores of restaurants all within a few blocks of the marina. (The only thing lacking is a marine chandler like West Marine.) The marina has wi-fi available at their office.

The mooring field has been a little bouncy, sometimes very bouncy, with all the marine traffic passing by. We also heard a strange sound fairly often, which sounded just like a chain dragging, but our anchor was up and secured and the mooring buoy seemed fine. The sound of a metal chain seemed to follow no pattern, as we heard it when the mooring field was dead calm and when it was bouncy with equal frequency. Paul asked a day or two later and learned that the MBTA (Metropolitan Boston Transit Authority, the “T” mentioned earlier) has a subway line that goes to Logan Airport and the line is directly beneath the mooring field! Now that we know what the sound is, we realize that what we’ve been hearing is the sound of train wheels clacking on the tracks below. Uncanny resemblance to metal chains dragging, though.

I had the very strange experience of realizing that I’d always wanted to do something that I never knew I wanted to do until I actually did it. The New England Aquarium has a large area set aside for its penguins,and has a successful breeding program. Watching the penguins, I realized that I’d always wanted to see them. Some of the penguins just sort of stood there watching the water or other penguins; others swam around, some surprisingly quickly and most very gracefully; a few groomed each other. One penguin swooped through the water, periodically jumping out almost like a fish, obviously just for the fun of it. The keepers referred to the penguins as “flying” through the water, and that’s really what they seemed to be doing. Awkward on land, but not in the least when they’re in the water. It was mesmerizing to watch them.

We hope to leave Boston — weather cooperating — on Thursday, 9/8, heading for the Cape Cod Canal and Buzzard’s Bay beyond.

 

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