Sparks fled upwards into the darkening night, reaching towards the brilliant pinpricks of uncountable stars above. The fire fed greedily on the driftwood haphazardly piled onto the fine powdery sand of the beach. A northeast wind blew long and cool, driving the flames to even greater acrobatics. The smell of smoke mingled with the tang of the salt air and hot dogs on the grill. The chill forced the odd collection of barefoot wanderers to shift just a little closer to the warmth. Despite the unseasonal chill, they were thankful to be where they were – nestled together around a campfire on the white sands of Norman’s Cay while crystalline aquamarine waters lapped nearby. They had finally arrived. Another season in the Exumas!
Sometimes, as we work our way over this watery world, we stumble into magical moments that just seem so perfect they belie description. This was such a moment. An idyllic welcome to our long journey from the Chesapeake and our escape from the cold.
Departure
After leaving Miami on Friday at 4AM, here we were on Sunday at 6PM, already in the Exumas, some 200 miles south and east of where we began. Now, 200 miles might not seem like a lot if you’re zipping along on a highway at 70, but it’s a little different when you’re going roughly 10 times slower than that. Imagine how long it might take you to run 200 miles, that’s probably closer to the speed at which we typically travel.
Bahamas
This trip has been a downhill ride. The crossing of the dreaded Gulf Stream was of no consequence. We sailed most of it and only had the motor on briefly. The seas were only a little disturbed by the northwest wind blowing across the Gulf Stream. We arrived at Alice Town in Bimini around 1PM, anchored, then I went in to handle customs and immigration. By 5:30PM, we were pulling up our anchor to catch the favorable winds still blowing. As darkness descended, we navigated out of the tricky Bimini entrance and headed south and east across Grand Bahama Bank towards Chub Cay.
Dream Catcher arrives in Bimini
Our plan was to arrive at the Northwest Channel at daybreak. This channel is supposed to be marked by two pilings about 500 yards apart. The only problem is that both pilings are in disrepair and you can’t see them unless you hit them. You simply have to trust your chartplotter and assume that your guardian angel is on duty in the wee hours of the morning.
As we nervously passed through the channel and onto the Tongue of the Ocean (an 8,000’ deep area that separates Chub Cay from New Providencia) we realized that we could probably just keep going onto New Providencia (where Nassau is located). This would put us a lot closer to the Exumas. Since we had already reefed our main, we were prepared for the wind to increase into the 20s, which it did. The seas grew larger and rougher, but we were scooting along at 7-8 knots and the seas were behind us, not in front of us. They eventually grew to about six feet, but this is less than what they were a year ago, so we figured we were doing pretty well. We sailed into the calm of West Bay and dropped anchor. It wasn’t long after that we were fast asleep as the lingering effects of the swell rocked us to sleep.
Exuma Bound
Sunday was supposed to be stormy, and we had prepared to sit out the front in West Bay, but morning dawned bright and clear, with only a gentle 10 knots blowing. It was too good to pass up! We headed out of the bay and pointed our bows (we are a catamaran, after all) towards Norman’s Cay, about 50 miles away. Sun poured out of a powder-blue sky as we set our course and our sails. Before long, we were once again romping along at 7-8 knots in perfectly flat seas in the lee of New Providencia. Gin-clear water showed every rock and coral embedded in the white sands only 8-12 feet below us. We flashed above them, too quick to make sense of any of it. Just before we reach our destination, we are hailed by Kathleen from Wonderful Life who gives us a head’s up that they, and several other “kid boats,” have already arrived – great news for us! Finally, we pulled into Norman’s Cay lagoon and dropped our anchor. The clarity of the water makes it easy to see the anchor and its long dark-grey stretch across the vivid whiteness of the sand bar beneath us. It holds us fast, secure in our latest watery destination.
We look up and find they we are right next to Wonderful Life! Wait, there’s Makana! And look, there’s Cool Cat across the lagoon! Doug from Wonderful Life zooms over in his dinghy to invite us to the season’s first beach barbeque. Moments later, a dinghy full of kids pulls up to gather Jeanette and they are soon speeding off towards the beach. We collect our things, make dinner preparations, and an hour later, we are on a white-sand beach, catching up and meeting new members of the lost tribe of wandering sailors. Food is enjoyed, conversations flow, and friendships warm while falling stars mingle with sparks streaming skyward. It’s great to be back!
My first sail on a big boat was the sea trial for the old Cal
30 my parents bought when I was 10 years old.It was a blustery day and a boisterous sail that, at one
point, had me in ankle-deep water as I stood on the backrest of the cockpit
bench while water poured in from over the side.An anxious look at my father’s smiling face assured me that
this was normal – an experience that
was to seriously skew my concept of sailing for years to come. In fact, when we were teenagers, my brothers and I loved to
take the boat out and skirt along the squall lines to ride the bigger winds and
seas.It wasn’t until later – after riding out gale-force winds off Gun Cay and sailing in 20’ seas back
to Fort Lauderdale where we were told that the Coast Guard had been out
rescuing people all day – that I began
to realize that my father, a former merchant mariner, wasn’t much afraid of
anything that could happen on the water.This turned out to be good preparation for sailing in the Bay Area and
ocean racing with Ken in all kinds of conditions.Nonetheless, something has happened to me along the way and I’m
slowly but surely warming up to the idea of being a fair-weather sailor.Looking at the all-male crews around us as we travel south,
I’m thinking that those wives who fly in to the destination and skip the long slog
south are onto something!
Autumn colors on the Alligator River, NC
Last month, I was chatting with some cruisers in
the marina’s laundry room in Charleston, SC, commiserating about the weather,
which was just about to go south.Literally.In fact, the
wind was picking up as we spoke and the warm, humid air that was pushing before
it had everything on the boat dripping with moisture.It was mid-November and the weather patterns were quickly
transitioning from warm summer highs to the autumn lows that bring unstable,
cold air, north winds, and rough seas.This particular group of cruisers was the
experienced-sailors-but-first-time-cruisers variety.They were new to planning their entire lives around weather
windows, estimated distance that could be covered, and potential access to
groceries and marine supplies; and I had little helpful advice for them there that Active Captain couldn't provide.Although I understand the insurance
companies’ policy of not allowing boaters to go south of Cape Hatteras before
November, they do increase our risk by forcing us to travel at a time when cold
fronts are marching down the coast one after the other.Sailing south becomes about best
guesses, taking chances, and cutting your losses. There was much grumbling about the wind and the cold but, as
burdens go, I’m not averse to bearing it knowing that warmer climes are just
ahead.
Looking forward to 80 degrees!
The Art of Forecasting
Even in the best of times, weather is always a little bit
unpredictable.Heading out of Beaufort
Inlet, NC, weather reports told us to expect 20kt winds that would gradually
abate over our expected 36-hour trip to Charleston, SC.While the wind was indeed 20kts when we
started and it did lessen over 24 hours, for the last 10 or so hours, it strengthened
again.Instead of the anticipated
5kts of wind, we had 25-30kts, with a following sea that was quickly building. It wasn’t anything we couldn’t manage,
but it did catch us by surprise and made for some fairly unnerving maneuvering
(clipped into a harness and the boat) trying to wrestle our big, unreefed
mainsail under control.Needless
to say, our last 8 hours into Charleston Harbor were faster than they would
otherwise have been.But that’s
just the thing…. even when you’ve checked out the local weather reports, NOAA’s
marine forecast, grib files, and weather models, and touched base with your
favorite weather guru (e.g., Chris Parker), the actual weather is prone to
change.At best, you have to run
the engine because the wind has died or you’re uncomfortable because the seas
are a disorganized 6-8’ instead of a 3-5’ swell.At
worst, you’re in way over your head and you and your crew or your boat is in
danger.We prefer sailing on the
outside (i.e., the ocean) rather than going down the intracoastal waterway
(ICW). For one thing, we can sail;
for another, it’s faster.It’s not
necessarily easier, but it is faster; and when crazy stuff happens,
I’m grateful for the experiences of our San Francisco sailing days when 30+ kts
of wind was just another walk in the park.
Red Sky at night....
Sailing on “the outside” as it were, we miss much of the
inland beauty that can be enjoyed on a leisurely trip down the ICW.Nonetheless, with temperatures dipping
more frequently into the 30’s, we were motivated to move – and move fast.In hindsight, our long hops from
Morehead City, NC to Charleston, SC, and from Charleston to St. Augustine, FL
were fairly benign.Leaving St.
Augustine the day after Thanksgiving, however, we were subjected to a sloppy
following sea, making for a miserable washing machine effect that plagued us
all the way to Port Canaveral.A
steady strong breeze allowed us to sail – a definite bonus – but neither Ken
nor I got much sleep off watch as we were tossed and turned about in our
bunk.It was a quiet night, as
shipping traffic goes, and there wasn’t much to see except for the
bioluminescence frothing in our wake.After spending a few days in Cocoa Village seeing family and re-stocking, we took a break from the ocean and meandered down the ICW to Lake Worth. Another family/provisioning frenzy in N. Palm Beach and then
we were riding long swells down to Fort Lauderdale yesterday, just ahead of a cold
front. Today, there are distress
calls up and down the S. Florida coast due to the huge surf that developed
overnight. For once, we’ve timed things just right.
A different kind of explorer, entering Port Canaveral
Feeding frenzy off St. Augustine
Traveling Companions
It’s always fun to pull into the harbor and see a familiar
boat.In Charleston, we docked
right across from our friends on Song One
and, just a few days later, they pulled up beside us in St. Augustine.Other cruiser friends touch base
with e-mails and texts and are either just ahead, or just behind, us.Glass
Slipper was getting hauled out in the boatyard in Green Cove Springs
(Jacksonville) just before we made it to Florida.Rollick pulled into St. Augustine right
after we left and Ally
Cat was hoping to catch up to us before we cross.While underway, boaters are required to monitor
channel 16 on the VHF.Listening
to boat chatter all day, some names start to sound familiar; and, once in a
while, you hear someone that you know.While sailing from Charleston, we were hailed at night by L’Avenir – an Austrian boat whose crew
we met in Washington, DC.They had
heard us speaking with another passing boat and wanted to say hello.It turned out they had also left from
Charleston that day, but were heading straight on to Canaveral while we were
stopping in St. Augustine.And so
it goes, leap-frogging down the coast until we reach a destination we don’t
want to leave.Along the way, we
intersect with family and friends, old and new, and enjoy the occasional
encounter with the wildlife that are also on the move.Day after day on the open ocean, pods
of dolphins (Spotted and Bottlenose) played at our bow while we sat up
forward and shared their sense of abandon.
Daredevil Dolphin
Pair of Spotted Dolphins off our bow
One afternoon, a solitary Bottlenose Dolphin showed up to play.She would surf the bow wave for a while, then dash up ahead, diving deep and waiting for the boat to catch up to her before speeding in from the side for another ride.After 15 minutes or so, she leaped into the air three times and then swam away.I imagine that the same shenanigans take place at night, but I can’t say for sure.On one moonless night I got a whiff of a strong, fishy smell that I can only assume was a whale.We were, after all, in the Right Whale critical habitat, but saw none in daylight hours.And that’s the way it is with our fellow travelers – we know they’re out there, but we don’t always see them.As we spend the next couple of days in Fort Lauderdale waiting for our next weather window, we are anticipating the camaraderie of this loose collection of nomads who sail in and out of our lives, connected by a shared love of living on the water.
Thurrrup, thurrrup, thurrrup. Damn. It's 2AM and the fresh water pump is cycling. Again. What the heck is that all about? The good news is that it's only a short pulse. The bad news is that it's enough to wake me up. I've tried ignoring it (my first reaction to problems), but it hasn't gone away. Since we are currently moored in a beautiful spot for a week, I can now ignore that beauty and get sweaty trying to fix this problem. Yay!
The beautiful city of St. Augustine at twilight
Once again, it's me against the beast. The beast is any problem that defies a simple explanation. I've had a few of these smile their evil, toothy grins at me - just daring me to come near. While I'm likely to vanquish the beast, it's rarely done without evidence left on my body somewhere. Those are sharp teeth!
This occasion wouldn't be any different as it happens.
Step 1: Get Help
Now, it used to be that I'd just jump in and figure everything out myself. Unfortunately, that usually turned out to be the most expensive option. This time, I documented the problem as much as I could and put it up on the Yahoo group forum for boats just like mine. This inevitably leads to many sympathetic voices suggesting every conceivable problem and solution, so you have to pick and choose which voices to listen to. They're the one place I'm likely to find sympathy and a shoulder to cry on. My wife and daughter have only the vaguest notions of the miracles I perform to keep this boat floating.
Step 2: Isolate the Problem
The freshwater pump takes water out of a large tank and pressurizes it to 44 PSI and sends it through hard plastic lines that worm their way throughout the boat where you can't see them. The pump has a pressure switch, once the lines are pressurized, they shut off. What I was hearing was a short pulse of the pump because the sensor measured a pressure decrease. Simple, right? The first thing to look for is a water leak somewhere in all those lines.
Step3: Clean the Bilges
All boats have bilges. It's where water goes that shouldn't be in the boat. Since time immemorial this has been a problem. I think it was some Carthaginian, out for a Zeusday sail in his trireme, who first accidentally dropped his favorite discus and watched it roll underneath the slave rowers. "Zeus damn!" he exclaimed as he blindly reached underneath the floorboards, franticly searching. He didn't find his discus, but he did find something squishy and disgusting, causing him to retch. It turns out the Carthaginian word for, "blech!" translates into the English, "bilge." Look it up if you don't believe me.
So, my bilges needed to be cleaned and dried if they were going to help me identify where the leak was. This technique had worked in the past, so I had some hope for it. Turns out it was misplaced...
Step4: Block the Water
After spending a day with the bilges open everywhere on the boat, and crawling around with a paper towel to make sure they were really dry, I determined that the mystery water leak wasn't playing by the rules. Water was not winding up in them. Now I would have to try something more difficult. I had to block off each section of the freshwater system to see if it would stop the pulsing (which had progressed to once every 5 minutes).
How do you block 44 PSI? I can tell you what not to do. Don't carve a piece of cork and stick it in and tape it. That resulted in the cork whizzing past my face at subsonic velocities - followed by a stream of pressurized water that splashed onto my laptop. Also, don't use a large metal bolt that almost fits the hose. It turns out you can't just put a lot more tape on it to seal it. While it held for one second longer than the first attempt, the net result was the same. At least when the water came gushing out, it only went all over the innards of the air conditioner, which is in the same area.
Once I had a length of tubing with a non-lethal seal on one end, I got to work going around the boat and replacing connections with the blocker. This sounds easy, but this is where most of my scars came to pass. While a few of the connections are easily reachable, many are placed where only garden gnomes could possibly go. Invariably, I could only reach these connections with one hand, with the rest of my body inconveniently leaning on a sharp fiberglass panel. While disconnecting the connection worked one-handed, it was another thing to get the two pieces back together.
Remember the dry bilges? Well they were rapidly filling with water (mixed in some cases with my precious blood). Every test involved a liberal spray of water released into the nether regions of the boat. You'd hope this was all for a good purpose. As it turned out, it wasn't.
Step5: Try the Spare Pump
All that mucking about with blocking off parts of the water system got me no where. All I could say was that if I had the blocker attached to the output of the pump, the cycling totally stopped. As soon as I added more of the system to the pump, the cycling started and I couldn't see any sign of water leaking anywhere. It had to be the pump!
I put the spare pump in the system and it seems even worse! OK, it can't be the pump, it must be the freakin hoses! I half-heartedly try to go through the entire isolation process with the new pump, with basically the same result as before. Did I mention this is day #2 that I've dedicated to this process? Where are the girls you ask? Oh, they are enjoying cookies and cake over at the relatives, where they've been for the last two days...
Step6: Give Up
I usually try this step sooner, not sure why I waited as long as I did. I was defeated. I figured I'd put everything back the way it was and just live with it. Since the water wasn't showing up in the bilge, it was hard to prove I was actually losing any water. I convinced myself I could learn to enjoy the brief cycling of the water pump hour after hour, day after day.
Any reasonable person would be frustrated at this point, I was no exception. In trying to get everything back together, I had one balky set of connections that every time I tried to turn on the pump, water would hiss and spray in one direction or another. After several attempts, I yanked at it a little too hard and broke the Zeuss-damn water pump!!
Step7: Smile
Because once I replaced the old water pump with the new water pump, everything worked perfectly and continues to this day. Sometimes finding the silver lining requires a bit of blood, sweat and tears, but if you're persistent, you'll find it!
The anchorage in DC is in the Washington Channel – a
would-be peaceful spot nestled between a park and two marinas.It also happens to be on the main
helicopter route to the White House.Buzzing just overhead, the helicopter traffic started at dawn and
sometimes went until late at night.Some days were busier than others, but I suppose we all got used to them
– even the cat, who initially ran below in terror at the start of each
whump-whump-whump coming up the channel.
The waterfront is also undergoing a major renovation with new docks
being installed and an entire complex of hotels, restaurants, bars, and
boutiques being rolled out in phases, beginning in 2017.Between the helicopters, the DC cruise
boats bustling in and out, the waterfront construction, sailing classes, rowing
practices, and the occasional drifting boat, there was plenty of action on the
water.And while the Washington
Channel may be a far cry from our tranquil anchorages down south, we enjoyed
every minute of our urban experience.For one thing, we were a 15-minute walk away from the National Mall and
dozens of museums and monuments.FREE!!The metro and a
decent grocery store were two blocks away and the best fish market I’ve seen
since Pike Place was just a short dinghy ride up the channel.What’s not to love?
Following Glass Slipper
The Mall
A typical day for us in DC was to work in the morning -
Jeanette is in school, after all - and visit museums and monuments in the
afternoon.What a luxury to not
have the time pressure of a compressed visit!We could see as much or as little of any given museum as we
wanted, knowing that we could come back again.Jeanette’s favorite was the Natural History Museum – even
though the dinosaur exhibit is closed for renovations.The National Gallery and the Botanical Gardens are always on my "must see" list - I could
go back to again and again to drink up the art and bask in the beauty of those incredible orchids.The Holocaust Museum – one that we did not, unfortunately,
explore thoroughly – was not what we expected and was very thought provoking.The Archives was another surprising
find and quite interesting.Ken
spent a lot of time at the Air and Space Museum and Museum of American
History.Both had their high
points and Jeanette and I made a couple of trips to the First Ladies Gowns
exhibit – needless to say, her dreams are bigger than mine were at her
age.We all learned a lot at the
Ford Museum and the Newseum was another big hit.
Air and Space Museum
Jeanette working on her Junior Botanist Certificate at the National Botanical Gardens
Polka dot orchid (not it's real name, but it should be!)
National Gallery
Women's suffrage monument
Dedication of the Disabled Veterans for Life Memorial
Old Friends, New Friends
We had the good fortune of catching up with a number of old
friends while we were in DC.From
childhood friends and schoolmates, to colleagues and family, we enjoyed
catching up and seeing favorite places through locals’ eyes.I also experienced my first “Boat Moms
Night Out” hosted by Tanya on Take Two,
and met some of the cruising families from the marina.While Take Two was soon on their way, I connected with Kimberly from Ally Cat and Monica from Flipper, two moms of 10-year-old only
girls – a definite score for Jeanette.She had a great time playing with Ally and Lucia, who hooked her into
the marina kids and took her trick-or-treating at the air force base.Our friends on Makai also came to DC for a couple of weeks and we had a great time
exploring the sites with them.We
even got to see the President dedicate a new memorial to Disabled Veterans –
the first time any of us had seen a sitting president!Our stay also overlapped a business trip
for our San Francisco friends Michael and Lisa, as well as a business trip for
my brother Joe and his wife, Debbie.It was so easy to be in DC – and so much fun – that we had a difficult
time pulling ourselves away!
Getting ready for our State Capital tour with the Makai kids - Roy, Marie, and Genny
Michael and Lisa in D.C.
Serena and Jeanette plotting to beat the pants off us (Florence, Martin, Luke, Ken, and me)
Jeanette and Genny
Marie, Genny, and Jeanette
Colleagues JoAnn and Karen pow-wow on Dream Catcher
Going Off The Mall
We also took some excursions off the Mall.We spent a gorgeous fall day picnicking
and hiking at Great Falls with my childhood friend, Florence and her husband,
Martin.Later, they hosted us at
their home for a dinner with their three wonderful children.It was fascinating to see their
high-school- and college-age kids and trying to imagine Jeanette at that
age.I’m so grateful that
parenting is a gradual process and that one generally has time to adjust to the
rapid development of children!Ken’s
cousin, Andrea, took us on several outings – Gettysburg, the Woodlawn Mansion,
Frank Lloyd Wright’s Pope-Leighey House, Alexandria, Harper’s Ferry, Arlington
Cemetery, and the Claude Moore Colonial Farm.It’s a wonder Jeanette got any schoolwork done!
Florence and Beth at Great Falls
Great Falls, VA
Jeanette and Andrea at Harper's Ferry
Ken and Jeanette at Great Falls
Woodlawn with Andrea
Wreath laying ceremony at Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
Underway Again
Golden leaves and dropping temperatures were our signal that
it was time to move south once again. My
business trip to Portland, OR in early November kept us in DC longer than we
originally intended, but the moment I returned – literally – we weighed anchor
and set off. Nine days later, we
are in Charleston, SC, sitting out a blow and waiting for our next weather
window to sail to St. Augustine, FL.
Forecasts like those for tomorrow night (25 degrees!!!) are a great
motivator for moving south as quickly as possible. Eighty degrees can’t come soon enough!
Sailing wing-on-wing up the Neuse River in North Carolina
Only crazy fools would leave for an extended cruise on Friday
the 13th, but that’s exactly what we did a year ago in September. We sailed away
from our home in Milford, CT to new horizons.
With this, our first year of cruising behind us, I thought it'd be fun to take a look back. It would be an impossibly
tedious blog if I tried summarizing all our experiences – both on land and at
sea, so these are just some of the highlights and lowlights.
Key Statistics
Distance travelled so far: According to our log, we’ve travelled
3,120 nautical miles from CT to Bahamas and then back up to the Chesapeake
(where we are now).
Longest passage: From the Abacos in the Bahamas to Norfolk,
VA., which took 4.5 days and covered 660 nM (roughly 6 knots average).
Longest stay: Two months in Georgetown, Exumas.
Fastest boat speed: 11 knots.
Most wind: While sailing is 30 knots. The most at anchor is
40 knots.
Scariest moment: When the boat dragged in Portsmouth and we
weren’t on it.
Best moment: Swimming with the dolphins for an hour or more
in Eleuthera.
Second-best moment: Spending Christmas at the Exumas Land and Sea Park in Warderick Wells with dozens of cruisers and several families and discovering just how jaw-droppingly beautiful the Bahamas really are.
Worst moment: Figuring out why the head clogged and then
cleaning up after I made one small mistake…
Biggest surprise: How incredibly helpful the cruiser
community has been to us. We've had strangers open up their homes, boats, cars, and hearts to us. There is an incredible generosity amongst the cruisers we’ve
met; I hope we get a chance to pay it back.
What might not be obvious is that there were
many more positive memories than negative ones. We’ve had no real storms to
face or “I’m glad we survived” moments. Yes, we’ve been in bigger waves and
wind than we wanted, but the boat did fine in those conditions. It’s taught us
to be patient and wait for decent weather.
Creature Encounter
Along the way, we ran into many kinds of animals in the wild. Some visits were brief, some longer.
Alligator (South Carolina)
Manatees (Florida)
Sharks, Bull and Reef (Bahamas)
Dolphin (Chesapeake and points south, Bahamas)
Bald eagles (Chesapeake, Dismal Swamp)
Osprey (everywhere)
Heron, Pelican, etc. (everywhere)
Turtles (South Carolina, Bahamas)
Moray eel (Bahamas)
Nutria (Bahamas)
Brown Racer Snake (Bahamas)
Iguana (Bahamas)
Departure, September 13th, 2013
We left on a clear, crisp sunny day. I remember being
nervous about sailing so far away to the Bahamas, but it’s like eating
an elephant - just taking small bites over a long period of time. On our entire trip to the Bahamas, we only sailed for 24 hours once. All the other jumps were simple day trips.
September 13, 2013 - We begin our trip from Milford, CT
Traveling down the East Coast
After leaving Milford, we boogied for NYC to time our trip through the East River. Instead of staying in NYC like we planned, we kept going due to favorable weather. We had to get south along the New Jersey coast and we wanted to do that in good conditions. We never went ashore until we reached the Chesapeake.
Motoring by the UN building in NYC
The trip down was mostly rushed and too much motoring or motor-sailing. It
wasn’t until we reached the top of the Chesapeake that things began to slow
down and we could turn back into a sailboat. The weather was much colder than we anticipated. We had to resupply with thermal underwear before too long. We were a little too eager to leave our winter gear behind us...
Chesapeake City - at the very top of the Chesapeake
Fun in Baltimore
Annapolis, MD: Hanging off a mooring
Annapolis, MD: Watching the America's Cup with like-minded sailors
We certainly took advantage of the historical areas. We visited sites key to the Revolutionary war, War of 1812 and
a few of the Civil War sites. Here on the East Coast, they have “historical recreation” (otherwise known as "living history") sites where people dress up as the inhabitants and tell
you their story. I don’t remember anything like that on the West Coast – other
than the Renaissance Faire!
Williamsburg, VA: boot making 101
Yorktown, VA: attacking the British
Jamestown, VA: We want our next boat to look like this
St. Michaels, MD: After the crab-feeding frenzy
Leaving the Chesapeake
In mid-November, my mom joined us as we left Norfolk, VA and headed down the
ditch to parts south. Amazingly, she held up well in some admittedly rough
conditions – the roughest of our trip in fact.
Nofolk, VA: Heading down the "ditch" with Mom
You can motor a boat from
Norfolk, VA through the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) all the way to Miami. It’s
commonly referred to as the "ditch" – which is what it looks like in many parts.
I think we must have spent 50% of our passage in the ditch, the rest was out on
open water. Personally, I’d prefer to do much more on the open water, but
conditions determine which way we go.
Somewhere in South Carolina: The ditch goes on and on...
Roanoke, NC: Sunrise (which means Beth took it as I'm still sleeping)
I think Roanoke was my favorite resting point along the way. There is a historical site of the "lost colony" of Roanoke - it's very well done. We had
the anchorage to ourselves and I discovered “Shrimp and Grits” there. Grits are
basically the same thing as polenta. The dish contains small bits of spicy
sausage, shrimps, garlic, cheese-infused grits, country ham, green onions,
Cajun spice and a little chicken stock. Now that’s some Southern cookin’! Best enjoyed while watching the shrimp boats pull into the harbor.
Roanoke Indian Village: This is all we'll be able to afford after we sell the boat...
Roanoke, NC: Time to relax
Shrimp 'N Grits!
Kitty Hawk, NC
Weather was cold – even as far south as Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. It was 30 degrees on the boat one morning and we all resorted to sleeping together in one berth to stay warm.
Hilton Head, SC: Spanish Moss was everywhere
Charleston, SC: Carriage ride tour of the city
Mr. Repairman
Unlike many other cruisers, who have a history of meddling with tools and fixing things around the home, I was more wary of the “DIY” mentality. This was partly due to my upbringing and partly due to the fact that when I tried to fix something, I would usually make some bonehead mistake causing me more time, effort and money to repair than the original problem.
When you’re a cruiser and you break down in some remote location, you’re on your own. So unless your plan is to be the next Swiss Family Robinson storyline, you’re faced with dealing with these issues yourself. I reluctantly came to this decision myself as Beth refused to learn how to service a diesel engine. For me, the side effect has been many instances where I pay a price for the, “it seems I have an extra part left-over after assembling that,” or the “jeesh, how does that go back together?” or, my favorite, “it’s not the way you’re supposed to do it, but maybe it will work for awhile.” So, I randomly bleed, sweat profusely, swear and generally fumble my way towards a semi-functioning boat. Yes, there is a sense of accomplishment getting something to work, but there is also a dread of something suddenly not working when we need it. It’s the yin and the yang of maintaining a boat.
Dealing with melted watermelon in the vents
·What needed fixing:
Watermaker: Fatal blow out of end cap dumped water in the boat and then took a month to repair.
Generator: Multiple failures of impeller caused mysterious shutdowns.
AC: Fermented watermelon juice in AC ducts required replacing them in 90 degree weather.
Rudders: Both replaced due to cracks and fluttering.
Hulls: Had to fix large gelcoat gouges from big iron bolts when the boat dragged anchor and drifted away without us.
Heads: Both started leaking and required rebuilds, then there was the epic blockage…
Engine: Ate 3 fan belts in 9 months, constantly required tightening to prevent squealing.
Saildrive: A small crack developed in the housing (somehow) – which allowed sea water into the gear oil.
Propellers: On three occasions, we wrapped a line around our props (stalling the engine). Required me to twice dive into the water and remove lines in zero visibility water.
Windlass: Oil leak into the electric motor, required strip and rebuild.
Outboard: Bad fuel and decomposing fuel line crudded up the carb. For a month, we could barely go 100 feet without stalling.
This is a very small list of just some of the things that needed attention. There is the chore of routine servicing and replacement of parts that wear out. It seems we rarely go more than a month before something surprises me.
Florida
Coming into St. Augustine after 24 hours sailing from Hilton
Head was a bit of nail biter – only because the seas were rough and there was a
lot of outflowing current. That can create breaking waves, but we just powered
through some rollers and got into calmer waters. It was such a huge change to
be in FL. The weather was now tropical after the cool of HH. St. Augustine had
lots going on – but we only stayed a few days before continuing down the ditch.
St. Augustine, FL: Welcome to sunny and warm Florida!
St. Augustine: We're back in T-shirt weather!
Beauty telling us to get up off our butts and feed her
We stayed in the ditch for most of Florida. There are only
certain spots where you can leave/enter it, and generally the weather wasn’t
decent to take the ocean route.
Because we were in the ditch, we were faced with lots of
bridges. They come in two forms – those that are fixed and we barely clear with our mast; those that are movable and we have to time our arrival and/or call them on VHF to request an opening. Needless to say, bridges
were necessary evils. A few times we were forced to wait for a lower tide before going under a fixed bridge. More than a few times we heard the "twang" of our steel whip antenna hitting the undersides of a bridge.
A rare sighting of a swinging bridge, most bridges were Bascule
Florida was also about visiting with Beth's family. We took our time going through and by December 12th, we were parked south of Miami, waiting for the right conditions to cross the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas.
Melbourne, FL: sailing with Beth's family
Melbourne, FL: After all the bridges we saw, we build one out of paper
Miami, FL: As we got further south, we saw the water color change
Somewhere in FL
Bahamas
After arriving in the startling clear, turquoise water of Bimini, six hours after leaving Miami, we hung around for a couple days before jumping down to Nassau. After a week fixing a few things, we headed to the Exumas - rushing down to Georgetown - cruiser's central.
Bimini: Everything we were hoping for
Bimini: Our introduction to the colors of the Bahamas
Nassau wasn't anything more than a tourist spot
The Exumas lived up to - and even exceeded - our expectations. Warderick Wells was our first stop, a natural trust site, so no fishing allowed. It was extraordinary photogenic. I still shake my head at the beauty of it all. We stayed a week for racing further down to Georgetown, skipping many islands on the way.
Warderick Wells: Paradise found!
WW: Spending Christmas with other kids made J smile
Exumas: Jeanette goes "au naturale"
We had it all there in Georgetown - beaches galore, shelter, rudimentary provisions and most importantly, other families! Jeanette instantly made friends and there were many rendezvous in the shade of Hamburger or Volleyball beaches.
Georgetown: Valentines Day on Hamburger beach with kids from Glass Slipper, Rollick and Hoodwinked
Georgetown: Sunday lectures from the local historian
Georgetown Luxury: Local hotel has a "cruiser's special" on Fridays - good place to take visiting friends
Georgetown: My sister and husband visit us and sample one of the many beaches
Georgetown: It's "race your coconut boat" day at the Annual regatta
When you're cruising, you don't use last names as much as boat names. So instead of, "Here's the Pimentels!" you'd hear, "It's Dream Catcher!". So, in that spirit, Rollick taught me how to spear fish for lobster and other fish, Makai helped me with various "fix-it" projects (along with their 13 year old teaching me about trolling for fish!) while Makana, WhistlingCay and Glass Slipper kept Jeanette busy. The community is amazing, helpful and welcoming.
Exumas: I speared my first lobsters!
Georgetown: Kid-fun!
Other than two trips to the Jumentos (south of Exumas), we stayed in Georgetown with 150-300 other boats. We were having such a great time and there wasn't a lot of incentive to go elsewhere. We were not on a mission to circumnavigate the Caribbean - we have nothing to prove to anyone. My girls just want to have fun!
Jumentos: Looking for lobsters in all the wrong places
Jumentos: Enjoying fish and lobsters caught earlier with other cruisers we ran into
Return from the Bahamas
We took our time bouncing up the Exumas and spent some incredible moments with the family on Makai visiting an amazing panoply of nature's best screen-savers. We left Makai at Normans Cay and headed to Eleuthera (and our super-sized dolphin experience) before reconnecting with Makai and going up to the Abacos. Eleuthera and the Abacos are really beautiful, but pale in comparison to the Exumas. It's odd to hear so many cruisers who only go to the Abacos. They don't have any idea of what they're missing - but it proves how expectations are set. We'd never waste any time in the Abacos if we could spend it in the Exumas. We're hoping this year we'll explore places that put the Exumas to shame - like the Jumentos seemed to.
Playing with the Makai kids
Eleuthra: Dolphin extravaganza
Eleuthra: Video from our dolphin experience
Cambridge Cay: Visiting the "Aquarium" with Makai
Thomas Cay: Impossibly perfect sandbars are picture-worthy
On May 9th, we left Manjack Cay in the Abacos, on our longest passage to Norfolk, VA. Since then, we've been busy fixing the boat, moving the last of our stuff out of the Milford house and transporting it to FL. Now we're sitting here in Washington DC, a half-mile from the Washington Monument. We might hang out here a month before moving south and starting another Bahamian adventure.
Where to Next?
We’ll remain in the Chesapeake until our insurance allows us to proceed south around the middle of November. Then we’ll boogie down to
Florida before jumping over to the Bahamas. We’re definitely spending most of
our time in the Exumas and some of the remote islands that are further east and
south. We loved the Jumentos, so definitely more time down there.
Our house in Milford just sold –
thereby fully casting ourselves into the future. We’ve already sold or given
away pretty much everything we owned. What we have is on the boat and what
could fit into a conversion van that we drove from CT to FL. The future is an open door, or an empty horizon in our case. At least for another year. We take things as they come, we don't plan beyond six months at a time. No, this can't last forever as we have to go back to jobs at some point and Jeanette has to go to High School, but leave us our dreams for now, on the good ship Dream Catcher!
