Wayne and Isabel sail to the Bahamas

Florida - the Final Chapter?

2009-05-28T08:40:00.000-07:00

After five or so days of 25-30 knot winds, the weather prediction was for 10-15 with waves of 2 feet or less in the Gulf Stream. We had made several friends at Weech's Dock, and two other sailboats decided to make the crossing with us. This was a new experience, as we have always made the crossing alone, but turned out to be quite a fine one. We left Weech's around noontime, looking for a high tide to get through the challenging channel to South Bimini. This proved to be no problem, and we tossed out our anchor in about 9 feet of water near the old range marker, making sure to stay out of the channel. The other two boats followed shortly. A peaceful evening turned into an early morning departure as we had 75 miles to make to West Palm Beach - Lake Worth inlet. We left a bit before our two friends, but could see at least one of them all the way across and were able to maintain radio contact. The day started clear and sunny, but then a huge cloud bank moved in. We were fortunate not to have any rain (and truth be told, protection from the blazing sun was a blessing), but the wind really picked up as did the waves. We rolled in the Genoa and were sailing only on a reefed main. Our reefed rig, coupled with the power of the waves and the current of the Gulf Stream, proved to be a sailing machine! We were flying down six to eight foot waves, and our speed topped out at 11 knots! Don't think we will ever see that again...anyway we made the crossing in good time and Wayne once again did his cowboy imitation riding the huge waves into the Lake Worth inlet. Once inside, we dropped the main, started the motor for about 5 minutes and were soon enjoying a well-deserved "anchor beer". A convenient anchorage lies just to port of the inlet as you are returning from the sea, and our two friends were not far behind. Perhaps the crossing was a bit more adventurous than what I've portrayed: it's true that we both got a bit queasy, and the sight of the huge waves on the stern was impressive to say the least. But then again, perhaps it was just SO MUCH BETTER than last year's nightmare with lightening and howling thunderstorms that we've become a bit less impressionable. West Palm was fun, and Westerbeke/Universal treated us very well; the repair parts for the cam shaft/water pump job were there and our mechanic (Lee Ellis of Leeward Marine) was impeccable. The boat is now resting safely on the hard in Indiantown and is looking for a new adventurer to take her to her next destination. She is listed at www.sailboatlistings.com/view/13117
As for us, we've done the dream and have a new one: selling art. Looks like first thing may be a move to Ann Arbor, home of the University of Michigan and a return to civilization.

An Obama Nation - Bimini and goodbye to the Bahamas

2009-05-07T11:36:00.000-07:00

Our stay in Bimini was unexpectedly long due to a lingering high pressure system and continued 25 to 30 knot winds. We again enjoyed the hospitality of Weech's Bimini Dock - an institution since the Hemingway days. To our surprise, the Big Game Club marina was closed due to lack of business. Their loss may have been Weech's gain as there were a half-dozen or so boats at Weech's including one large luxurious sport fisherman. The facilities had been significantly upgraded with the addition of a four-stall, four-shower ladies' room with two washbasins with mirrors as well. This left the older 2-stall, 2-shower ladies room to become the men's room. Finally, it took the Bahamians to figure out gender appropriate bathroom configurations. They are not known for their great support of women's rights. Perhaps this is a model for some of the more astute capitalists to pursue.

Our first foray into the streets of Bimini brought us to the Dolphin House. This house has been entirely constructed from surplus materials by a talented man named Ashley Saunders. He comes from a very old, established Bimini family and explained that when he was young, he was granted a scholarship by the Bahamian Government to study in Wisconsin. He gained a baccalaureate degree in literature at the University of Wisconsin (Madison) and returned as per his scholarship requirements to become a teacher on Bimini. He has written poetry, books, and a two-volume history of Bimini filled with numerous photographs. He also constructed the astounding Dolphin House which is notable for it's mosaic walls both inside and out. I will try to add more photos of the house, and more when possible.

We spoke with Ashley at some length, who among other relatives mentioned his brother Aslin. Aslin is a bone-fishing guide, boat builder, and lay minister. Among his accomplishments are having been the captain of the boat that brought in the world-record bonefish somewhere in the last 25 years or so...it's in Ashley's book. Because we had so much time and were enjoying learning about Bimini, we took the opportunity to walk to Aslin's boat building garage and have a peek at what he was up to.

A small hand-lettered wooden sign attached to a telephone pole marked the dead end street upon which Aslin's boat garage marks the end. As we approached the garage, a very trim, dark, slight, and freshly pressed man came out wearing dark blue slacks, a white polo shirt and a clean, crisp, navy blue baseball cap which read "Obama 2008". It did not take long for him to introduce himself as Aslin Saunders, and to invite us in to see the boat he was currently working upon. Wayne clearly enjoyed discussing the myriad different woods that went into the building of Aslin's special bone-fishing boats, as well as the techniques for hand construction of these marvelously beautiful wooden boats. Much of the wood he used was native to Bimini, but some of it was imported for the particularly important quality that particular species would provide the boat builder and boat. He and Wayne discussed the digging out of a particular tree root and stump in order to carve from it a strong, unified bow among other things as I looked around at the shop in general.

We have remarked again and again how well-loved President Obama is by the Bahamian people. Bumper stickers, t-shirts, baseball caps and even graffiti are greatly in evidence in all of the islands. Aslin had already proudly proclaimed his support of Obama by his baseball cap. Beyond that, however, one could see this is of central importance to him as at the very heart of his shop there is a mini-altar almost upon which stand a framed picture of Barack Obama being looked upon protectively by a small sculpture of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The story was forthcoming.

Having finished with bone fishing boat-building discussion, Aslin turned his narrative to bone fishing itself. Indeed, his most famous client was the same Dr. Martin Luther King, who came to Bimini for some peaceful bone fishing during several tempestuous times in his life. Aslin proudly recalled Dr. King's arrival just a few days prior to his acceptance of the Nobel Peace Prize, and the joyous and profound conversation they shared in the gloriously alive and colorful world of the reefs of Bimini. Aslin is quite a poet and philosopher himself, and a fervently religious man in the Bahamian Christian manner. He recounted how they discussed the acceptance speech in addition to the broader aspects of the importance of this momentous occasion. The phenomenally beautiful Bimini-blue waters, abundant fishes and thick mangroves seemed a perfect example of God's great creation in peace and harmony. Aslin then remarked upon the fatefull change which he observed in the person of Dr. King upon his last visit to Bimini. Weary with his burdens, tired of the constant fight, and needing to find peace again, Dr. King visited Aslin one last time less than a week before his assasination. He looked as if he had aged a year for each month and had none of the excitement and passion he previously exuded. Aslin had written a psalm and dedicated it to Dr. King and was overjoyed to have this opportunity to recite it to the great man in person. An engaging and passionate orator, Aslin was kind enough to share with us the opening and closing lines of his lengthy psalm in a rapturous manner. The psalm is a celebration of the greatness of creation as seen within the simple magnificence of the abundant life in Bimini. With bittersweetness, Aslin explained that his recitation of the psalm gave some solace to Dr. King, who remarked that well it was he should be healed by this gentle spiritual man when his own faith did not seem enough any more. A remarkable man, a truly good man if there ever was one; Aslin Saunders. Less than a week later, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was dead. Well of course this story moved me to tears and is powerful still in the recounting.

In the simple streets and on the gorgeous beaches of Bimini, a gentle world envelopped us until the wind relented to the point at which we could attempt to cross the Gulf Stream. Only about 50 miles from Miami is another world - a third world place to be sure - where time is slow and easy and history is much richer than meets the eye. We will remember Bimini for so many reasons, including Ashley and Aslin Saunders.

Sampson Cay to Bimini Bay

2009-04-26T11:09:00.000-07:00

Sampson Cay Marina was a lovely, quaint haven tucked into a hurricane-hole like inside bay of the oddly-shaped cay. The buildings were stone and classic stucco, and the facilities more than adequate. A gravel road lead to one of the most stunning views available - an ocean beach on a rare sandy hillside which overlooked the back side of Fowl Cay and the intricate inter-cay passages running between Fowl, Sampson, and a number of other smaller cays. The incredible variety of shades of blue - from the narrow deep-blue deep water passages to the shimmering shades of the palest turquoise where the water skimmed over mere inches of white sand. There was a little pavilion at the top of the hill with a nice wooden plank floor and two large wooden beach chairs. It was a heavenly place to do yoga, pilates, read and just meditate with gentle ocean breezes and the sound of the surf making relaxation almost automatic. Add the vast sea of negative ions to this feast of color and warm sun and it is easy to see why the Bahamian concept of time is "relaxed" as well.

On our last evening at Samspon Cay, the marina owners held a little beach party and barbeque. Having learned my lesson at Black Point, we elected to cook on board, but could not pass up making an appearance. The school Easter vacation period was just ending, and a number of people were sad to be leaving for Nassau the following day as well. The little girl playing on the beach was the daughter of a cousin of the owners, and had been visiting with another cousin during her spring break. She was heartbreakingly cute and had been playing in the sand and water all day, hunting for crabs and bugs and whatever else she could find. I could not think of a more poignant image for this truly heavenly place.

Like the others, we awoke the next day for our own return to Nassau. In our case, however, this was a trip up to Norman's Cay and then a sail across the Yellow Banks. The trip to Norman's was ideal - a gentle wind, broad reach, and following sea pushed us up and into the shallow waters of the anchorage on the western side. The lee-side anchorage was calm and flat. We jumped into the dinghy and motored over to the beach for a reconnoitering and trip to McDuff's. We ran across some of our other cruiser friends from Nassau, and had a delightful conversation. We returned in the evening for dinner at McDuff's but were unpleasantly suprised to learn the prices had been hiked significantly and the younger generation of ownership lacked the gentility of the former. No matter, it's hard to ruin a good sail and good day in paradise.

The next day dawned upon our sleepy Norman's anchorage, and we raised the main for the sail to Nassau. This time the wind had shifted slighly and we were almost dead down-wind for the better part of the sail. Although it seems beneficial to have the wind and wave direction right on your stern, it is in fact a difficult point of sail. We tried to go wing on wing, but it just wasn't any fun and very hard to keep the Genoa full. There was, however, quite a bit of wind. We finally made the crossing on a reefed-down main and made Nassau in good time in the early afternoon. After flirting a bit with the idea of anchoring on the eastern edge of Nassau, we decided it was just too poor of a spot and went on the the Basra anchorage mid-harbor near the Harbor Central Marina. Great choice! Holding was strange but we traded our CQR in for the Danforth and hooked in well (luckily escaping most of the debris scattered about the bottom). The anchorage turned out to be more fun than we had imagined as the dinghy dock at The Green Parrot was always open to cruisers and they featured free wireless and a great happy hour. We dallied around Nassau for as long as needed in order to secure the right wind for the two-day trip to Bimini. We enjoyed a return to Atlantis and it's pools and aquariums as well as a walk around the old city. We met new friends and saw old cruising friends and had a great time in general. The weather forecast changed, and we saw what looked like a decent 3-day window to sail all the way to West Palm. So while others hesitated, we pulled up and headed out to once again face the tongue of the ocean - but this time with wind, waves, and current all pushing us in the right direction.

Pulling up the Danforth proved quite difficult, as was raising the main at the eastern end of the harbor. Wayne unfortunately aggravated an old back injury, but carried on bravely. This time we had a huge following sea to contend with - six to eight foot waves - but enough on an angle on the wind to sail up on a reach. About nine hours after lifting the anchor in Nassau, we arrived at our Northwest Channel Light waypoint and decided to keep on going as much as possible. We sailed until sunset and threw down the good old CQR in ten feet of water on the Great Bahama Banks. It was a rough and rocky night, but sleep was not the priorty. Making good time to BImini was our goal, and at the first hint of sunlight we weighed anchor and set out for the second-to-last leg of the journey. This time the wind was directly behind us, making for another diffucult sailing day. We let out the full main for a while, but the wind built and built and we had to reef it down again despite the loss of one to two knots of speed. We arrived near Bimini in broad daylight, and decided to take the "old way" into the harbor as the navigational buoys have still not been replaced. This involves lining up on a set of range markers on South Bimini and then simply reading the color of the water all the way in in order to avoid shoals and reefs. We've gotten pretty good at this. Now we are happily docked at Weech's Bimini Dock and having a SUPER time in Bimini. Our window disappeared as the wind and waves were too strong to carry on the next day but no matta, we're loving it here. That's the next story.

Incomparably Beautiful Bahamas!

2009-04-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

Were unexpectedly way laid at Sampson Cay due to persistent strong northerly winds. It’s a good time to catch up with our adventures from George Town to this point. The best place to start is the sail from Cave Cay to Black Point.

One of the most pleasant sailing days we’ve had was spent on the scant 10 miles or so on a broad reach from Cave Cay to Black Point. The anchorage was practically deserted, so we sailed right in on the main and chose a perfect spot to drop the anchor. It was Easter Weekend, and it was our un-knowing good fortune to have arrived just in time for Black Point’s Easter Carnival. As the day wore on, the wind died more and more and the sun became intensely hot. We put up the bimini, plunged in the water a couple of times and went to explore the source of a constant dull roar of music and drumbeat.

We discovered the carnival booths in the center of town, offering games of skill, snacks, and cold beverages. The center of town is actually the basketball court of the schoolhouse, which is directly across from Scorpio’s Bar. It was mid-afternoon and most everyone was drinking a cold beer. For just one dollar, I played a game in which one was to stand behind a line and throw needlepoint hoops at a table loaded with prizes. To my great delight, I won a toothbrush which was something I actually needed. The place was teeming with small children with freshly braided holiday hairdos and loud, laughing Bahamian men with a Kalik in hand. Most of the shouting was coming from Scorpio’s so we went in to have a look. There were two main foci of interest; the NBA game on a big-flat screen TV and a game of dominoes happening at one of the tables. If you’ve never seen Bahamians play dominoes, you have missed something. They take turns slapping them down onto the table with a great smacking sound, while loudly discussing their various exploits and the relative ineptitude of their opponents. It is boisterous good fun.

We discovered that there was to be a number of tournaments the next day, including a pool (billiards) tournament and a dominoes tournament. We had hoped to play in the pool tournament, but the entry price was $20.00 per person and a little too steep for a game of pool. Instead we spent a couple of bucks on a couple of beers and had a chat with the guys around the bar. We met one particularly friendly guy named Steve, who claimed to work for JohnnyDepp at his Little Hall’s Pond Cay home. It appears the guy was totally legit. He said it was a great job as most of the time he got to just hang out in a luxurious island mansion with occasional visits from the Depp family. Steve had come over on a very fast boat, intending to spend some time in Black Point, as there was pretty much no other kind of action anywhere in this part of the Exumas on Easter Weekend. We laughed and joked quite a bit until it was time to get a bite to eat of dinner.

Dinner was limited to Jerk Chicken, peas and rice and cole slaw (Wayne selected beets instead…yikes!) as all of the fish had been sold out earlier in the evening. Everything tasted good, and we ate ravenously. Soon afterward, there was a Junkanoo Rush Out by a group from Nassau which proved to be the highlight of the evening. Moms, dads, grandmas, kids of all ages, black and (the few) white people were all soon dancing to the Bahamian beat and admiring the colorful costumes. Although I never managed to drink more than one beer, Wayne had one more and our evening ended up with a bit of sweaty dancing followed by a hasty retreat.

The next day I awoke to a gastric system in turmoil! Although Wayne didn’t feel too wonderful either, my symptoms were inexplicable due to anything other than the previous night’s meal which had basically sat around all afternoon with neither refrigeration nor heat being applied. Yes, the nurse in me knows that if you leave rice out all day, it is an excellent substrate for various naughty microbes that can wreak havoc upon the digestive system. Ah well. Fortunately the anchorage was as still as could be and we did not much more than swim around a bit and wait to feel better. A stash of canned Progresso chicken soup saved me from total starvation/dehydration, but I could not muster up the energy to go anywhere or do anything. Wayne rallied, however, and attended an evening outdoor rock concert that featured a well-known Christian rock singer. I enjoyed the music from the boat until I fell blissfully asleep. Wayne had a great time and the unique honor of being the only white person at the concert! (We are particularly proud to be able to talk about our current President and to say we worked to get him elected and are great supporters. The Bahamians love Obama as do we, and we are no longer embarrassed to say we are Americans. The “W” years were quite different in this regard.)

The next day was had a fine little wind to sail to Staniel – another 10 or so miles from Black Point. Big Majors Spot anchorage was full of immense motor yachts and catamarans, and one particularly enormous and beautiful dark and shiny mono-hull named Tenacious, whose mighty mast was visible for miles. We pulled in behind the fabulous giant 100+ foot long sloop and threw out the anchor. If you would like to see some incredible pictures, you can go to Charterworld.com and look up this boat. She is a 35-meter Triton sloop designed by Ted Hood and boasts, among other accessories, her own seaplane for shuttling guests to and fro. Sixty thou a week is all it takes to book the Tenacious. At least we know we were in good company.

Having a few days to spend in the Staniel area, we decided to explore some coral reefs. We found a quiet little area behind Fowl Cay and had a bit of snorkeling fun. The winds turned unfavorable, however, and we considered anchoring behind Fowl Cay instead. The anchorage behind Fowl Cay is only accessible from the banks side via a “VPR” – visual piloting route. This means that if you are unfamiliar with the waters, you must have extremely good skills reading water depth by color and avoiding shoals and coral heads. It can be scary stuff in a stiff wind. So we decided to try to have a happy-hour cocktail at the beautiful Royal Plantation Island resort. You can check this out at: www.royalplantationisland.com

Little did we know, one cannot simply show up there and have a glass of wine at the bar. The chef spied us looking lost, and offered to bring us up to the dining room and put a glass of wine for each of us on his tab (!) He then kindly brought up a number of promotional brochures and explained that, should we like to reserve for another day, we could have dinner and drinks for $100 per person. We managed NOT to choke upon the wine at that moment and give this option a real thought. You really have to visit the website to see how appealing this was, despite the steep price. We reserved for two nights hence and dinghied back to Cassiopeia, who looked phenomenally small in the shadow of Tenacious. In fact, it always looked like we were anchored far, far away from Tenacious, until we were right upon her. Our diminutive size coupled with not only the physical aspects of perspective but also profound unfamiliarity with a sloop of that size played tricks upon our minds. Still, she was a pretty sight to see just off our port bow!

Regrettably, the anchorage became so rough that we both suffered un peu de mal de mer or ocean-sick tummies. This resulted in more consulting of the charts to see where in the world we could tuck in. That morning I convinced Wayne to take the dinghy over to Sampson Cay, where there was a little marina that seemed very possible. We both found it to be charming and therefore sacrificed the elegant dinner at Fowl Cay for a slip at Sampson Cay. That’s the next story.

Sweet sailing

2009-04-14T07:32:00.000-07:00

We left Georgetown with a handful of other boats, out into the sound with the wind at our back and a following sea. Regretfully, it was quite rolly, making it a tough sail for me but thank goodness for compazine and a lovely, sunny day. We made it up to Cave Cay handily, actually outpacing the larger boats due to our light weight and captain Wayne's masterful sailing. We hit the cut right at slack tide, turned the motor on with the main up and sailed through no problem. A quiet night on the anchor was following by a beautiful little day sail to Black Point. There we enjoyed the Easter festivities for a couple of days, and then another little hop to Staniel Cay where we are presently. We arrived yesterday morning, and looked out upon a sea full of huge, power yachts at Big Majors spot. They all left after Easter Monday, and now we are again quietly anchored by our favorite "Swimiming Pig Beach". We got out and dinghied around Fowl Cay and the back cays, and did some wonderful snorkeling. The reefs don't look anything like what they did 30 years ago when I first saw them, but it's still quite an experience to see all the brightly colored fish and live coral heads. We will probably spend another few days here, then head up to Bell Island, Shroud Cay, Norman's Cay and finally cross the yellow banks to Nassau. We'll be able to post up some pictures of the Easter Junkanoo from Black Point as well as some of the gloriously quiet days on the hook. Heading north with the prevailings is just SO much better than beating into the wind and waves on the way south. Despite our slightly crippled motor, we don't anticipate any significant problems getting home.

Heading Home

2009-04-09T07:30:00.000-07:00

We are poised to head out tomorrow, up to the Cave Cay cut and then duck in there for the night. We hope to move on to Black Point the next day, and then figure out a strategy to use the winds to get to Nassau. The engine can be run for about an hour at a time, so our sailing skills will be put to the test. The generally nice spring weather is on the plus side of the balance sheet, so although slow our sailing should be safe and pleasant. We'll update the blog when we get to Nassau in about 7 to 10 days. Happy Easter!

Still Down and out in George Town

2009-03-30T12:02:00.000-07:00

The crazed, blistering pace of the Cruising Regatta has completely disappeared, along with most of the boats. Warm, indolent breezes have replaced the unusually brisk and cold winds that plagued this year’s “season”. Even so, boats are streaming out of the harbor each morning, announcing their farewells on VHF for the remaining pilgrims to mourn over. The few that are left behind mostly cherish this quiet time, and the opportunity to practice listlessly relaxing activities such as hanging out and walking on the beach.

With the change in weather, the oceanside beach has become calm, allowing the seashells to repopulate strategic coves and crannies. I say strategic, as Wayne and I are working every morning now at collecting a maximum amount of shells before any other lame-o cruisers get to it. Perhaps you think that shell gathering is easy work? Although rewarding to be sure, it is back-breaking, sweat-producing and damp. Today we brought two large bottles of water along, and drained them easily before half time. Sometimes, if suddenly changing from stooped and squinting to erect and squinting, your head spins and you feel like you may pass out. Some people call this positional low blood pressure or a vasovagal response. I call it dehydration, mixed with late-night bonfires and hot, hot sun. Wayne did remark we are getting pretty brown. Occupational hazard.

These last couple of weeks, we’ve been hanging out with a bunch of musician types. We first saw Chad and LeAnne from Cambration in Black Point. At that time I noticed that they were painfully young and thin. My maternal instincts reared up, and I insisted to Wayne that we would have to have them to the boat for dinner sometime to fatten them up. In the meantime, they managed to get married – first the “religious” ceremony in Staniel and then the “official” ceremony here in George Town. We had dinner with them and our new friend Lee from Krasna the other night aboard Lee’s boat. It was charming getting to know them, and hear their story of young romance. What was shocking, however was to learn that Chad had written a computer program which allows you to catalogue your boat lockers by content and location. He says he had to do this because they have $2500 worth of canned goods stored in various locations all around their boat. Sheesh, those kids have more food that we do!

So, Chad’s a great guitar player and singer, and Lee is also very fun. Lee has a more off-beat guitar playing style and a great baritone voice for which he stands out at sing-alongs. Lee is also remarkable for his great, piercing blue eyes, thick tangle of grey ponytail stuffed under a do-rag, and colorful past. The guy has been in jail any number of times, escaped three times under his own power and was unleashed by the US Embassy on various other occasions. Lee is a photo journalist who specializes in covering war zones. He can’t really recall all the countries (and jails) he’s been in but they include places like Colombia, Venezuela, Bosnia, Croatia, Afghanistan, etc. He spent the last 15 years living in the Czech Republic with his wife (a professional musician) and child but is now single-handing his 42-foot ketch as his wife decided their gig was up. He is a wonderful guy who has forgotten more great stories about his life than he can remember. We can only hope he’ll write a book someday.

The other musicians we’ve been hanging out with are Chris and Sarah from Moonraker and Gary and Celeste from Sol Surfin’. Chris and Sarah are small, dark, and delicately-boned. They live in the Chesapeake, not far from our intended new home of Chestertown, Maryland. Gary and Celeste are from California. To those of us from the UP, that’s about as exotic as being from the Bahamas so I’m tempted to leave it at that; but I really can’t. Gary looks too young to have such a fab boat – a large and gorgeous catamaran – and plays a mean guitar with a penchant for acoustic Led Zep. Celeste has long brown hair, lovely soulful brown eyes, and looks like a fertility goddess. She is totally adorable and a wild-ass party girl. Oh, to be young again. Last night the aforementioned usual suspects assembled at Sand Dollar Beach – about a 2-mile dinghy ride for us – for a bonfire and musical jam session. We were joined by a smattering of others and had a rip-roaring good time. Wayne and I were lucky to be back aboard Cassiopeia by midnight: last time we spent a musical evening aboard Sol Surfin’ we didn’t get back till two in the morning. We’re just too old for that anymore. (Sad but true.)

Now as to the engine; we have good news and bad. Wayne managed to hook up a 12-volt freshwater pump which bypasses the usual system and therefore we can run the motor with a careful eye on the temperature gauge and the RPMs. We hope to only have to run it for entering and exiting harbors and going back through the cut at Cave or Galliot Cay. Bottom line is that it works. We managed to obtain a spare pump as well from another friend. We are pretty sure we can make it back to the states with not too much problem. The other good news is that Universal/Westerbeke is willing to send the parts needed to repair the cam shaft to a marina in Lake Worth (Palm Beach area). The bad news is that we’ll have to buy a new water pump and pay for all the labor to effectuate this repair. The guy helping Wayne here in George Town is another cruiser named Roger Wrona aboard a big trawler named Rollsdoc. Roger is a Yooper! So’s his wife! His family comes from Bruce Crossing and she comes from Watersmeet. Small world. Roger already gave us a lot of help, and is willing and able to do the job for us if and when we get to Stuart, Florida. He’ll be on a mooring ball there and in fact it could all work out OK. At any rate, it has to work out OK one way or another, but it’s just funny how Yoopers pop up at the strangest and best time some times.

So that’s it for now. We expect to be leaving George Town in a week or two and hop slowly up the Exumas. Since we intend to sail primarily, these will be short hops. But that should offer us the opportunity to do some fine snorkeling and watching for the green flash. Hey, life could be worse. We could be in Fargo with imminent flooding at the same time as looming blizzards. Damn, now that’s some bad weather.

After the Regatta - Relaxation!

2009-03-20T06:42:00.000-07:00

What a time it was, attempting to get everything done in George Town! This year Wayne was the "Regulation Volleyball" Chairman - meaning he had to organize and participate in the volleyball tournament for the "real" or "good" players. He had five teams entered, and it went generally well. They played from around 9:30 am to 1:30 pm, and were hot, sandy and tired. The final round was very exciting with the two undefeated teams meeting and playing very agressively despite their fatigue. In the end, youth won out. All had a great time. Previous to the tournament, Wayne and I had participated in the "Coconut Challenge" again, and had been practicing for our world debut at the Bahamian Music Festival at Regatta Park, George Town. Regrettably, our world debut with "Folks on Boats" was slightly marred by an overwhelming sound system, lack of sound check, and a broken guitar string which made everything sound totally different. Even so, we didn't get booed of the stage therefore considered the experience a marginal success. After that, Wayne played in the tennis tournament and myself in duplicate bridge. Wayne's team came in third in tennis, and my partner and I came in second place in bridge. This was to the amazement of many of the other players, mais c'est comme ca les copins...My partner is the delightful Dave from High Noon, the same Santa Claus/Teddy Bear who saved us in Nassau from having to attempt to row to the gas station. (In a soft-bottom 12-foot dinghy this is no mean feat...) Dave is a bridge whiz, and my skill set is minimal but creative. Dave calls my playing "Star Wars" bridge because he says I play as if I figure that, "the force is with me..." Yup, that's about right. At any rate, it works in duplicate situations but confuses the heck out of a lot of people.

Regatta week finished up with a "Variety Show" at which the Folks on Boats played again. This time, the kind sound team spent two hours on our sound check and we sounded fantastic! My children will never believe that I got to be the lead singer and front the band. It was a ton of fun, but we were absolutely exhausted by this year's activities.

Now the weather is warmer but we are soon to endure another Norther and have tucked in deeply to a protected anchorage. Boat life is fun, but the aspect of camping is now wearing a bit. No running water, no real bathroom facilities and an endless series of chores related to the acquisition of water, food, etc. can be daunting. No matter, as the photo shows, it is beautiful beyond words here when the weather is nice and judging from the reports from home we are lucky as heck to be here.

Hard at Work in Gtown

2009-02-23T07:08:00.000-08:00

The pace has picked up as the Cruising Regatta looms large in the Elizabeth Harbor anchorage. Wayne is totally hooked on his Total Immersion swimming program, and is practicing in the 74-degree water now as I sit at J&K on the internet again. He is the busy one this year, with daily volleyball practice and competition, as well as meetings of the various activity chairmen and putting together a band. He has taken it upon himself to put together this year's version of "White Folks on Boats". The cruisers were requested to do so and to participate in the Bahamian Music Festival to be held in late March. This is a tradition that has gone on for quite some time and it would be a shame not to participate. So, we are going to perform his new original "Georgetown Funk" as well as a few other songs, accompanied by a couple of other cruisers on guitars. Wayne will sing a couple of songs, our friend Doug will sing a couple, and I am mortified by the idea that they want me to sing a couple of songs as well. I probably will not load that performance up to UTube as my singing has never been of the appropriate calibre. Be that as it may, what happens in Georgetown, stays in Georgetown. There is ridiculously little other news to report except that our friend Mary will be arriving soon with her sister. We look forward to hanging out with them at the Peace and Plenty pool and perhaps even taking a real shower.

Georgetown, week One

2009-02-20T06:49:00.001-08:00

We’re closing in on the end of a week in Georgetown. Although the activities, places, and faces are largely the same, it doesn’t “feel” quite the same. The economic disaster wrought upon the world by G.W. Bush and his cronies has stretched its long tentacles into the cruiser community. Some of last year’s longtime cruisers were forced to sell their boats and get jobs. Others simply stayed home. The clan of adventuresome young Canadians who came down either in pairs or with young children has vanished. The die-hards remain – those who sold their homes long ago for big, comfy boats and the Georgetown lifestyle. Folks whose wealth was so massive and secure that they have withstood the shitstorm are also here. That leaves a few of us ragged cruisers in little boats who were really pretty marginal to begin with and have remained so. The anchorage has a bit more of a right-wing feel to it. This is nicely counterbalanced, however, by the continued presence of the older French Canadians en masse. They were adventuresome youngsters themselves once, and remain buoyant and raucous. (Read: they are still liberal party animals.)

Wayne is the Chairman of this year’s Regulation Volleyball Tournament for the upcoming Cruising Regatta. He has been playing every afternoon at the four-on-four, bump, set, spike courts where the level of competition is high. I’ve been inserting myself into more and more of the “fun” volleyball games where any idiot can walk on the court and make a fool out of her/himself. Well, I guess I’m getting slightly better at it, but it’s still just a diversion and nothing I can claim I can really do.

Beach Bridge is still fun when I can put a game together. My partner from last year has already left for further south and I haven’t put together a solid partnership with anyone else yet. No matter, pickup games are almost always possible. My pilates classes are picking up in terms of attendance, and people never cease to ask me to become involved in various skits and activities during Regatta week. You have to be a good sport about this kind of thing, it really is fun if you just relax and get involved.

Wayne has been taking a class in a swimming technique called “Total Immersion”. He has been coming home significantly water-logged and has had dripping sinuses ever since, but has stuck with it. It’s a technique designed for long-distance swimmers and triathletes in which the glide phase of the crawl stroke is elongated and exaggerated and the body literally corkscrews through the water. Today is the last class, so I’m interested to join them and see if Ican’t learn a thing or two as well. After that; practice, practice, practice. According to the instructor it takes 5000 strokes to really get the technique. The class is held in a lovely mini-bay with a mini-beach where the water is less choppy and there is no dinghy traffic. To be sure, it’s a gorgeous setting and the weather has been superb. There are worse places to go and get your work done.

Georgetown, at last...

2009-02-14T11:30:00.001-08:00

We picked an excellent two-day window to get to Georgetown, and arrived yesterday afternoon around 4pm. There was very little wind on Thursday, but we got a little bit of "mo" out of it on a close-hauled reach and arrived at Cave Cay mid-afternoon no problem. There were quite a few boats already anchored there, and another selection anchored outside the Galloit cut. We chose the Cave Cay cut for three reasons: 1. it is straightforward and short. 2. it is deep. 3 we have been in and out of it before. Yes, it's narrow but we only have a nine foot beam. We met a very charming couple aboard Sweetwater, Hattie and Ludo, who were anchored just in front of us. We jumped in the beautiful, clear, turquoise water for a swim at just about the same moment they did, which prompted a floating conversation. They were also headed to Georgetown on Friday, and had spent the previous week in Black Point. That evening we enjoyed an outstanding sunset, which had all the potential for the green flash. As the huge, orange-yellow orb slipped out of sight, I turned to Wayne to remark upon the missing flash. Just at that same moment, the whole anchorage erupted in screams of delight - the flash was small, but there! Wayne saw it, I missed it. Can only hope to see it again another time.

The next day we made slow headway through the cut due to lingering current (two and a half to three knots) but we were steady and made it out fine. The wind again gave us just the slightest angle, but the sound was smooth and it was a relatively uneventful day. Entering Georgetown (Elizabeth) harbor is a four or five-step maneouver, which we had programmed into the GPS as well as consulting the sailing guide for visual clues. We navigated the entrance successfully and came to rest at anchor right in front of the Monument, as before. After a celebratory boat beer, we pumped up the dinghy and took a walk on the beautiful ocean beach, which has re-established itself after last year's devastating storm. As we were returning to grab a burger at the Chat-n-Chill, we found our friends Pam and Oliver out relaxing in their cockpit. They invited us for a quick drink, then off to a burger and fries. It's heavenly to be back!

Get to the Point, Stick to the Point

2009-02-09T11:06:00.000-08:00

The wind has not ceased to blow 15 to 25 knots for about a week now. It has been east to northeast the entire time. Since our trusty Tohatsu did not like the bashing into the waves on the dinghy ride from Big Majors Spot to the Staniel Cay Yacht Club, we decided we needed to make a move. We had planned a lovely breakfast at the Club and then attending church services on Staniel. Fearing dinghy motor failure, we elected to move to Black Point instead, where the dinghy ride to the town dock is much shorter. What a great decision this proved to be. After exiting the Big Majors anchorage and rounding Sandy Cay, we were able to turn the motor off and sail a mere 6 nautical miles to Black Point close-hauled. The Black Point anchorage is large and fine, easily entered from the south by running parallel to the coast. Supposedly we should be protected from the ENE wind, but it seems to sweep up over the island cliffs and down into the anchorage. Being that there is no current to worry about, it’s still a comfortable, if windy, place to swing.

Black Point is the governmental headquarters for the northern Exumas, from Highborne Cay to Big Farmers. It is a nice little out-island town with colorful little houses and friendly people. The town is very cruiser-friendly on a nice safe bay for anchoring with free garbage service and community water. The water tastes weird, but it is safe to drink so who cares? It’s free! Cruiser central seems to be Lorraine’s Café, where you can get lunch or dinner, self-service beers and sodas in the large refrigerator, trade in your books, and access wifi and three or four of her PC towers in the “internet lounge”. Internet access is available for a donation of your choosing. It’s slow, but it’s always slow down here. It’s lovely, quaint, clean, and fun to meet up with other cruisers and discuss adventures. Lorraine’s mom offers home-baked bread on a daily basis, and will take in your washing. Her grandma gets in the act with pastries and sweet rolls. Like almost everyone else on the island, Lorraine’s last name is Rolle. (There is Rolletown on Great Exuma, and Rolles populate a significant part of this chain of islands.) There is also DeShamon’s restaurant and rooms, and the Scorpio Bar. It always pays to be careful around Scorpios, so we have not yet sampled their offerings. They do have incredibly reasonable prices on sandwiches, so we may have to be brave and just plunk ourselves down in there one time.

The anchorage faces a horseshoe beach which dries very far out at low tide. This morning we took a great run which lead us to the northern edge of the anchorage the rocky, coral spine of the island (Great Guana). The sun is shining brilliantly again, and the combination of fresh ocean breeze and bright sunshine was invigorating. The moon is full presently, which sets up a lovely view around 6pm at which time the fiery orange ball of the sun plunges quickly into the west while the moon reigns in her silver splendor high in the eastern sky. We had hoped to catch a green flash again, but no luck last night. It was so lovely, and we are so close to Georgetown, that I asked Wayne to pull out the conch horn and give ‘er a blow. To our delight, the call of Wayne’s horn was answered by a number of other boats at anchor with their own conch creations. We are really not far now, only 50 or so miles from Georgetown. The sunset conch concert really brought home or proximity to our destination and the idea that we are going to get there.

The wind should die down on Wednesday, so our current plan is to sail to Cave Cay on Thursday. We’ll anchor there for the night in preparation for going out the Cave Cay cut and into the sound on Friday for the last 30 miles of our trip. The wind is predicted to be very light and dead on east, so we should be able to get some kind of reach going. The “sound” is hardly a sound like you might see on the ICW, it’s a BIG piece of ocean that happens to have islands on either side. It is to be respected and feared. Knowing that, we are looking at Friday as our best opportunity because it should be very calm. Still, sailing is full of surprises. We’ll just have to see what it’s like when we get out there.

Oh, and as for the title of this post – this is what is painted on the seawall at Black Point. It’s the first thing you see when you arrive at the dinghy dock. Good advice.

On to Black Point

2009-02-07T12:57:00.000-08:00

We had a great following wind across the Yellow Banks, preceded by an interesting time getting out of the TPA Marina. The manager was not anxious for us to leave at low tide, so we waited until 10am at which point it took three guys to handle our lines as we had to back straight out, then make a 90 degree turn to port, then zoom past the big power boats before the wind and currents could catch us. Our sailor friends understand how interesting this can be. We were successful and had a long day to Norman's Cay. The anchorage was over-crowded as it is small and arranged in a narrow curving arc of deeper water with coral and sand on the other sides. We touched once, but managed to get a decent spot upon the third try. Bumpy night, then on to Staniel. Great, huge anchorage at Big Majors Spot, no problem getting a great space but now both our dinghy motors are not working well so we'll have to move on tomorrow to Black Point where the dinghy ride to town is about one tenth of what it is here. It's ok - we've never seen Black Point before and it is the second largest settlement in Exumas (only Georgetown is larger). The fun never ends.

Surviving Nassau and on to Staniel

2009-02-03T05:58:00.000-08:00

Here is the "Leap of Faith" which figured so prominently in our last post. After spending all day at the marvelous water park in Atlantis, we spent the evening aboard the Maratani X for the Super Bowl. Much less dangerous in the water park, as refreshments flowed freely during the evening, resulting in a sluggish day after. Go Steelers. Today a rainy front has been persistently sprinkling everything so as to ensure sogginess inside and out. It's our day to provision for the 2-day run to Staniel Cay tomorrow and Thursday. The weather isn't great but isn't too bad - the wind swinging northwest, then north, then northeast at 15 to 20 knots. Hopefully we will not have a replay of the trip across the banks, but this is our only opportunity and it's been great but it's time to leave Nassau. More news from Staniel when we get there.

Atlantis

2009-02-01T05:52:00.000-08:00

We made delightful new friends here at the Poop Deck a couple of days ago. Upon arriving at the bar, I struck up a conversation with the lady next to me, a tiny blond lady sitting next to a seriously salty, blue-eyed sailor. She is Sandi and he is Captain Mike of Aquabelle, a beautiful mega-yacht. We have been practically inseparable since. More news on this when I can post up the pictures, but the most fantastic outcome of this chance meeting is that we spent all day yesterday at Atlantis Resort on Paradise Island playing in the water park. Captain Mike was able to get additional crew passes as we had helped him bring the boat to the marina on a blustery, difficult day. Interesting to see there are still enough wealthy people in the world to populate this incredible place. You have to look it up on the internet, it would take me too long to describe it. Highlight of the day: The Abyss. This is a fully enclosed water slide, most of which is in complete darkness. This is a good thing. If you saw what you were about to do, you might think more than twice about the wisdom of this idea. It starts with a 60-foot almost vertical dead drop, then hurtles you around (still in the dark) several fast curves, a brief spit into sunlight, and finishing once again in the dark into the splashdown pool. At first you cannot even breathe. You wonder what the hell is happening to you in the dark. Next, you realize you must breathe, but there is not even enough breath to scream, only that which is sufficient to keep your lungs inflated with air, not water. Next, a glimpse of sunlight, which appears to be reassuring but in fact is not, as you realize you are no where near done yet. Gulping a big breath in this time, you plunge back into blackness and your brain starts to believe you are going to survive as you are deccelerating somewhat. Finally you arrive in the splash pool, shaking all over. Relief floods through your body, but the adrenaline is still so high that you take that big lungfull of air and whoop like an idiot. Then, you gotta laugh. Why do adults do this kind of thing? I dunno - maybe training for the next exciting sailboat adventure.

The Terrible Tongue

2009-01-27T13:52:00.000-08:00

I am now sitting at the dock of the Nassau Yacht Haven, waiting for the customs officer to come and clear us in so I can go get a shower. After three days at sea, one becomes a bit ripe. This is to say that simple pleasures are about all I can think of after the terror on the tongue. Read on if you dare.

It was a very simple matter to once again lift the anchor and sail off on the ocean, leaving behind the banks and setting up our course to cross the tongue of the ocean. This is a deep, tongue-shaped channel that comes right in from the Atlantic Ocean. A part of the Bermuda Triangle intersects the tongue, and it is theorized that the legendary city of Atlantis may be under its fathoms of dark, unpredictable waters. We had always heard one should approach this crossing with the same sacred reverence as that of the Gulf Stream crossing. Our weather forecasts predicted for Nassau and Bimini a nice 5 to 10 knot ENE breeze, perhaps building to 10 to 15. It was no surprise that the water was far more turbulent than that of the banks, and the wind started out just as expected. The easterly component of the wind became more prevalent, while the waves were moving in a southwesterly direction, setting up what I call “bashing through the waves”. Since Max was already running full steam ahead and we were making very slow progress, Wayne decided to put up both the main and the jib (or Genoa if you prefer). The wind continued to increase, as did the amount that the boat heeled. Up and down the waves she heeled, side to side. Add to that a close-haul on an increasing wind and we were simply put, slanted most of the time. Now words of wisdom rang in my brain from my diesel mentor, Claude. Axiom number one: when in doubt, don’t go out. Corollary D (for diesel) number three: the diesel does not like to run when the boat is heeled, as the oil in the oil pan may not be getting to the engine.

Fate or a slip of the foot? We still don’t know. While attempting to gracefully climb the stairs of the companionway and join Wayne in the cockpit, my foot may have slipped and accidentally pulled on the kill cord. (Sheesh, what is the kill cord? It’s the little line that Wayne rigged to the cable that turns off the motor. Why? Because the actual cable is still too stuck and/or corroded to be usable, so you have to go down below and pull the little kill cord to turn off the boat. Boat joys.) Mere moments after I climbed out, the engine sputtered and died. I apologized and explained I may in fact have slipped on the stairs, thus pulling the cord inadvertently. At first, Max did not want to start up again. Wayne decided to try his luck with the wind instead as he could make almost as good speed with just the sails as with the combination. Soon it became evident, however, that we were not going to make Nassau by nightfall if we didn’t have a motor. I blurted out Corollary D Three, and we tried to right the boat as best as possible. We also noticed a landmass to our port side. We figured out this was Chub Cay, but having heard the marina there is closed down and knowing from last year that there is basically NOTHING on Chub Cay, we decided to press on if the engine restarted. After a few sputters, it did. Fabulous! On to Nassau then. There is nothing but tongue between Chub and Nassau, so this was not a commitment to be taken lightly. But with provisions and fuel measured for three days, we figured we had a better shot at a reasonably enjoyable life if we made the crossing. The wind was predicted to blow 15 to 20 the next day, and we did not want to be stuck in Chub with little food and no place to provision or get fuel.

As the day wore on, the wind increased. This resulted in more heeling – but what to do? One of the smartest decisions we made all day was to reef the main at this point. Max was thrumming along and we were bashing through as best as possible. Even so, we figured making the harbor by dark was going to be dicey. Then we saw them: the big buildings on New Providence. Exultation! We are making it!

Hold on there, podner. Don’t rejoice too soon because the tongue was not done with us by a long shot. Just as the tops of the buildings were coming into view, Max had enough and quit again. Shit! Shit, shit, shit! The wind is now 20 and increasing, and we are engine-less. We can see them, we just can’t get there. But we have to. So, luckily we are on a sailboat and we are going to sail the boat into Nassau harbor. We have absolutely no choice in the matter. We can’t stay out here, and there is nowhere else to go. There is no closer harbor. The only other possibility at the west end of New Providence is not really a harbor and we need to get into some protection. Wayne correctly guessed that Max’s fuel was so low that it wasn’t making it into the line when we were heeled to starboard, and our rumbline was a starboard tack. Luckily, the GPS is still working and we are determined to get there. Despite the sun being high in the afternoon sky, we knew we would not make the safety of the harbor before nightfall. Nothing to do but press on.

We started this adventure around 6am. We figured on getting in at 5pm, maybe earlier. The sun sets around 6pm, and then it is DARK. We figured that Nassau would probably give off a goodly amount of ambient light – as did Miami – and sailed on. This time, we really did sail. It was disheartening to a certain extent, but there was no use in doing anything but trying to be the best team possible. So, it’s 3pm or so, Nassau is only ten miles away. We can make it. We notice that we are losing ground and dropping below our rumbline. We are going to have to tack up. We try out Max on our port tack, and he comes right to life! We tack up almost 2 miles above our course, because we know we are going to fall back down. We get all we can out of Max, and tack back down.

The tacks were inelegant with me at the helm, and the subsequent trying to draw close to the wind so that Wayne could tighten up the lines was fraught with mistakes. We were back-winded. Our lines got stuck. I didn’t think I had the strength to sheet in the lines, but also didn’t really have the skill to hold the helm in what were now 25 knot winds. Somehow, we untangled ourselves and set upon what we hoped to be our final port tack. By now, we’ve been sailing quite a while but are still 8 miles away due to wind drift, etc. It still looks far. Wayne says, “It looks like we’re not getting any closer!” to which I can only respond, “Don’t say that.” I know we are getting closer because the GPS says we are. Ye of little faith, enter not into my house of pain. We hold this tack as long as possible, but this time when we drop below our course, we have no choice but to tack up again in order to avoid the coral reefs on the northern edge of New Providence. Another inelegant, struggling tack. The captain is tired but not defeated. We tack WAY up (under sail only now) because by God this is going to set up our approach and we are going to get in there!
We tack up a mile and a half or so. Yes, it’s been dark for a while but who cares? We are salt-sprayed and starving, running on high-test adrenaline and not much else. I finally come to my senses, and let Wayne take the helm for this take. I’m pleasantly surprised to find I can sheet in just fine and then change places with him so he can crank the jib real tight with the winch. Wind is howling at 30 knots now, with big, mean ocean rollers directly off the Atlantic, and we can make no better than about four because we have to sail so close to the wind. Now the next challenge, where is the entrance?

During this time, I hear snippets on the VHF and learn that our Canadian pals on High Noon and White Diamond are in town as they call to each other on 16. I want to radio them and say, “Come and get us!” but that is of course impossible. I want to see my big friend and George Town Bridge partner, Dave, and get a big hug from him. I want to get off of this boat! But there is work to do before that can happen.

The bright lights of Nassau became a sea of red, green, blue, white, and multi-colored data bits. Which ones mark the entrance channel? No use trying to use the binoculars, because the boat is crashing through waves, up and down, and heeling like mad. Wayne is a madman at the helm, holding her through this mayhem. I’m supposed to figure out which lights, in this smorgasbord of lights, are the ones we are looking for. Christ, I don’t know! (But I cannot say this, as the only thing to do in this situation is to remain eerily calm and don’t say much). I decide that I am going to write a letter to the authorities, urging them to ban the use of red or green lights on buildings and places of business as these should be used EXCLUSIVELY for nighttime navigators. Wayne asks me to look at the chart a get a compass course for the harbor entrance. This is literally impossible in the dark on the heaving boat. I urge him to use the GPS, as I know my waypoint marks the midpoint between the first pair of red and green buoys marking the harbor entrance. He submits to my logic and we bash on.

We are getting closer and closer, Wayne again requesting me to point out the entrance. I’m looking, really looking. I look at the GPS, and it says the harbor entrance is a quarter-mile away and we are a quarter-mile high of our course. Then I say, “Green, red. Green, red.” It becomes a little mantra. I think I see it. I do! I see it! I direct his attention down to where I see a beautiful sight: a pair of flashing green and red buoys, just where the GPS says they should be. OK, we are going to make it into the harbor! I keep the faith, and convert the captain to the church of the GPS.

But now what, we are flying on a reefed main and a cranked-down jib on a 30-knot wind into a major harbor with nothing but a wing and a prayer left. We form a plan; to starboard of the last red buoy marking the channel there is a little anchorage. Wayne will have to roll in the jib and I am to pilot us to a good spot to THROW OUT THE HOOK and hang on.

And here’s where the cowboy imagery comes in. Wayne turns down into the channel and we roar in there with 30 knots of wind propelling us as if we’ve been flung out of a slingshot. Wayne is flying through the entrance channel, tiller in one hand and main sheet in the other. Yeeeeeee Haw! Not a finer captain there is, he has been battling the sea for more than six hours now with nary a crack in his countenance. We pick out one buoy, then the next, the next, and finally our anchorage. We gotta slow down now! Up directly ahead there is a huge cruise ship. Wayne says, casually, don’t worry – we’ll just head over to the red and we’ll make, it. Yah, mon. By now, nothing matters and I turn on the depth sounder and take the tiller. I mean, even if we run aground we are safely in the harbor. I figure we are flat and I’ll give Max one more shot. He roars to life! I say, “Wayne, we have Max!” He says, “Yahoo! Head upwind and put the boat right there.” By some miracle I do this and we do not run aground. He gives the anchor a mighty heave and we are stuck! I mean, we are just where we want to be, not moving. The anchor is holding beautifully. We are safe. We are exhausted. We are hungry. We are wrung out. We are salty and stinky and nothing of it matters, because we are safe.

The down below looks like it’s been hit with a hurricane. There are charts, clothing, towels, dishes, and books helter skelter. No matter, Wayne puts the bridle on the anchor chain as I straighten up best as possible. When we both finish up, the boat is in working order and the captain requests a beer and some pretzels. I can’t even eat or drink anything for a while, the adrenaline is too strong. It’s 9:30pm. We were out bashing around for 6 hours in order to sail 10 miles. It’s crazy, but we are here. I manage to open a can of soup and saw through some stale French bread, accompanied by some warm Chardonnay out of a box, but it tastes wonderful and we are soon done in completely. We sleep and will figure out the rest tomorrow.

Monday dawned bright and sunny, and the sound of tour boat commentators and fishing boats prevails upon our coma-like slumber. We fall back asleep several times, with the usual confusing half-awake dreams. Finally it is time for coffee and we must rise and meet the challenges of the day. We know there is a little diesel left, but is it enough to get to the marina in a still-strong headwind? By 9am or so, I can’t stand it. I get on the radio and hail High Noon. To my amazement and inexpressible delight, Dave answers!

“High Noon, High Noon, this is Cassiopeia, come in please.”

“Hi there Cassiopeia, go to 09”

“Roger that. Hi Dave! How are you guys doing?”

“Glad to hear from you, how are you doing?”

“We’re OK. We are anchored in the west end of the harbor, after a pretty wild night sailing in…”

“How’s that?”

”Well, we lost our engine and literally sailed in, in a pretty big blow. We made it though.”

“Are you having engine problems?”

“Well, actually we ran out of fuel, but you know what it costs me to admit that to you.”

“Out of fuel, eh? Little lack of planning? Well, I have a jerry can here with 5 gallons of diesel. Would you like me to bring it over to you?”

“OK, well, will I have to worship you for the rest of my lifetime, or are you willing to put a time limit on it?”

“Oh, I’d say five or tens years will do…”

“It’s a deal! Also I will throw in a jug of your favorite flavor of Carlos Rossi.”

“I’ll be right over in five or ten minutes.”

“Dave, do I dare tell you I love you with Mary right there? You are my hero!”

“Stay put, I’ll be right there.”

Wayne and I high-five each other and scream. Dave is coming! We will have fuel! After all the foregoing drama, suffice it to say that arriving at the Nassau Yacht Haven with no difficulty and pulling into a safe, secure slip was the best end that we could ask for.

Steve the Magnificent and leaving Miami

2009-01-27T13:50:00.000-08:00

If there is one guy you want to know in Coconut Grove, It’s Steve Visconti. This extremely nice gentleman fixed our Yamaha 8hp (the one that tried to take Wayne’s leg off, if you remember) for a pittance. He diagnosed all the problems, cleaned everything out, ordered and installed a new hub and prop, and the darn thing works beautifully! He did this on his own time as a favor to us at the request of Bill Beavers. The guy is a prince. He is a compact and muscular guy with deep brown eyes and a moderately long brown ponytail. He looks bad-assy enough that you would not want to cross him, but he is just the nicest guy. He is efficient in every sense, does not waste time, words, or resources. But when the circling helicopters in the previous blog turned out to be monitoring a boat that burned to the water line, he called us as soon as he got out of work to make sure we were alright. They don’t make a lot of guys like that. If you need your outboard fixed in the Miami area, you can email me and I’ll give you his phone number. You can’t go wrong with Steve. You can buy his cute little girl some clothes (preferably pink) if you want to do something a little extra for him. I sure had fun doing this.

Steve brought our motor back to us on Friday noontime, and by 2pm we were on our way to No Name harbor. We located our exit channel, ran all the way out and then ran it in reverse marking the waypoints for the morning’s escape in the dark. There is a playground of flashing lights out at No Name, marking several different channels. You really want to hit the right one, and at night it can get quite confusing. Having done all we could, including obtaining a full tank of diesel plus another 5-gallon jerry can as extra fuel supply, we tucked in for the night. We had discussed our plan with Bill and the boys at the bar: anchor at Nixon’s Harbor at Bimini, then on to the Northwest Channel Light over the banks, then straight away to Nassau – a three day voyage without getting off the boat. In this manner we could clear immigration and customs in Nassau at the marina, and save a lot of time and hassle. We discussed the amount of fuel we would need, and the boys gave us their blessing, stating we should have plenty to make the trip. Just three days to Nassau! And the first part was to be the hardest – crossing the Gulf Stream.

We awoke at 4am Saturday in order to get a 4:30 am start on the day. While Wayne pulled up the anchor, I couldn’t help but get a last look at Stiltsville, a strange little cluster of abandoned houses which were literally built on stilts in Biscayne Bay. The ambient light provided by the city was reassuring and took a bit of angst away from the darkness of our departure. We had obtained weather reports from all resources available to us, and this was to be our glorious 3-day window of light northeast winds and calm waters. Getting out the channel went smoothly, and then we were in the big ocean.

In order to make the crossing and account for the significant northerly current of the Gulf Stream, one must first sail south. We had been advised to sail south to Fowey Rocks – as we had last year – and then turn east, sailing about 115 degrees heading to make 90. Very soon after our turn, we felt the grip of the Gulf Stream. The waves are jumbled as the current moves north and the wind (if any direction other than south) pushes the top of the water in a different direction. The predicted wave heights were 2-4 feet, which is not too bad, and the slight NE wind would actually let us put up our main and give us more stability. Of great note is that, sailing of this kind is about 99% of the time an act which involves running the motor (whom we call “Max”) at just under top speed and adjust whatever sail we can put up according to the conditions. Getting the opportunity to put the main sail up offers not only a little boost in speed but also an important aid to Cassie so that she can cut through the water with less rolling around. Although the wind was predicted to increase that afternoon, the crossing got smoother and smoother as we cleared the main grip of the Gulf Stream and got closer to Bimini.

Perhaps it is worth remarking upon what this looks and feels like. Leaving Miami takes a long time in that the lights and buildings are visible for miles and miles. Even as we made our turn at Fowey Rocks, the sun broke upon the eastern horizon, lighting the glass facades of Miami Beach with a new and different glow than their nighttime neon. Seeing the sun rise and sailing straight for it brings a sense of relief and hope, as a couple of hours’ sailing in the dark into the great unknown is always a little unsettling. Then, finally, Miami disappears and there is nothing but ocean and an occasional other vessel. Wayne and I had both taken some anti-nausea precautions, and had absolutely no problem enjoying the day despite a lumpy ride. Our first sight of the islands was a cause for celebration – a few ragged palm trees punching up out of the vast blue blankness. The closer we got to Bimini, the calmer the water became and we were on the hook by 3pm. This was record crossing time and about the easiest one we’ve experienced so far. The gorgeous color of the water and view of the scattered cays to our south, all under a fair-weather sky was a true joy. We settled in for a nice evening and another early am departure.

Sunday morning came easy as we had little difficulty leaving the anchorage and following our waypoints to the Northwest Channel. This channel is the most frequently used passage from Bimini/Cat/Gun Cay to Nassau. It is usual to encounter several boats along the way, as well as the occasional big container ship or other commercial vessel. We were surprised at how few boats we saw on this glorious day. We did, however, see a school of dolphins who came to play briefly with our hull and moved on. Always a good omen. We figured we sure pegged the weather window right this time, as the long sail (read: motor running at almost full bore with the main up) was practically smooth and glassy with little wind. Unlike the Gulf Stream crossing, this was a more calm and protected day out in the ocean, as the water is only 2 to 3 meters deep over the whole of the banks. White sand reflected up through the water and endless clear skies resulted in a practically seamless transition from turquoise water to pastel blue sky, the horizon a blur in some far-off place. The sun shone with a strength that rarely is felt in the great white north, and to our great delight our auto-helm was capable of holding the course due to the great calm. We read books, took turns doing little chores and sporadically scanning the great blue vista for other boats or possible hazards. We had planned to anchor by dark, and just about 6 miles shy of the Northwest Channel Marker (just off Mackie Shoals), we threw out the anchor to the setting sun. It could be unnerving to some folks to just throw your anchor out in the middle of the ocean, but there really is no other way to do it and it’s really not too deep at this point.

That night was to be rougher than expected, not at all a replay of the idyllic day. Wayne worked hard to bring the various clanging and banging noises under control, but could do nothing to subdue the rolling of the boat as the wind had picked up and we were no longer on a glassy sea. The waves tossed us side to side and nobody got a lot of sleep that night. Small price to pay for such a heavenly day we thought, we had to get up early anyway for the final push on to Nassau. That
deserves a post of it's own.

Coco shuffle

2009-01-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

We’ve now been twirling around the same mooring ball for about a week, waiting for the kind of fabulous weather we had on our way down here. Since our arrival in Coconut Grove, three cold fronts have swept through, creating an unlikely situation; freezing Floridians. Indeed, the government weather radio station issued severe warnings yesterday and today, instructing people in central Florida to wear hats and gloves to prevent hypothermia in the 30-degree chill. It’s true, we laughed. Thirty degrees Fahrenheit…ABOVE zero? No problem! But the folks down here just area not accustomed to anything freezing without refrigeration or the application of ice. It’s not very warm in the boat, but we have our trusty Coleman Lantern which produces an inordinate amount of heat, certainly sufficient to take care of our 9-foot by 12-foot living area. We also have plenty of gear to stay warm with, and so are handily surviving the weather emergency. What we are not doing is seeing any chance of leaving for the Bahamas until the weekend, when all the cold fronts will have moved off and dissipated. Despite east and southeast winds, we intend to motor across the Gulf Stream on Saturday, throw out the anchor, repeat for two days over the banks and tongue of the ocean, and arrive in Nassau Monday if all goes well. That will doubtless be another tale.

For the second time since arriving in the Miami area, we are listening to the drone of helicopters overhead for half an hour or more. The first incident occurred at the Miami Yacht club. We assumed that the police helicopters circling overhead were part of a movie or TV episode of some sort. That is not likely to be the case today, as the wind is gusting to 25 mph, the temperature unthinkably cold, and Biscayne Bay is mighty whipped up. A large group of young athletes is here, training for an Olympic-style sailing race this weekend. Perhaps there was an unfortunate collision or grounding, with young people stranded or hurt. Unlike the recent phenomenal landing of a large, commercial airplane in the Hudson River, errant boaters would be well-advised to stay in the water here as the water temperature is 40 degrees warmer than the air. Any Yooper can tell you that 70-degree water is like bathwater for goodness’ sake. The helicopters hovered for about 45 minutes while sirens screamed onshore and air horns blasted from the bay. We are reasonably stuck on the boat, not really wanting to brave much of the weather out there and waiting for Wayne’s dinghy patching job to dry. I expect we’ll learn what happened on the news tonight as happy hour at the club seems a likely prospect.

We did meet two lovely young ladies from Quebec – Miriam and Vanessa – who are here for the upcoming race. They are both long and lean, with wiry-strong whippet like physiques. They seem unbearably young to have driven three days from Quebec in a big pickup truck, but having seen the truck with their gear in it, I have no option other than to believe them. They speak French (of course) but their English is worse than my French, so they are delighted to be able to speak French with me. I am both delighted and horrified, as I love the opportunity to practice but I’m frequently embarrassed by my vocabulary lapses. Whatever.

Two nights ago, Bill Beavers finally pulled in from the Lauderdale to Key West race. It was late and dark and he and his only remaining crew were in their foul-weather gear. It must have been ugly. Bill pulled up to the dock as fast as he dared and darted out into the blackness to find his car, home, and a hot shower I imagine. We had the opportunity to chat with him last night at the bar. His twangy southern accent and expansive use of high-faluting phraseology was as charming as ever. He did not expound much upon the race, other than to say he and his crew “made a lot of mistakes” and that the party was not nearly as good as usual. But, he was in good cheer, and we were all in good beer. Many familiar faces from last year were crowding around the bar, and we had the pleasant opportunity to catch up with a number of acquaintances. After the usual round of pleasantries, Bill and his friends Lee and Tom began the story-telling in earnest. Sailors always have such barely plausible yarns about their misadventures, the more beer you imbibe the more you seem to be able to believe. We have a couple of our own favorites to pull out and share, but the repertoire of these old salts is vast and impressive. Lee sports a long, white ponytail and is usually garbed in Hawaiian shirts. This night being cold, he was appropriately attired in a sweatshirt and jeans. Spoils his look somewhat but one must bow to the weather. Tom is about my height – somewhere between five feet five inches and five feet seven inches tall. I don’t dare guess who outweighs whom between the two of us. He is an amazing font of knowledge, has truly sailed everywhere. No matter what neck of the woods we discussed, he had been there and done that. He even sailed the Duluth to Sault Ste. Marie race one time, and was able to describe the harbor in Marquette with sufficient accuracy that we were converted. You just have to believe the guy. Who else could have described the lift bridge in Houghton and Copper Harbor with such ease and aplomb? Tom is a fastidious dresser and always totally appropriate to the occasion. His staccatto laugh and rapid-fire delivery make him an effective and lively story-teller. His seemingly inexhaustible knowledge is extremely valuable for the relative novice. If he hadn’t informed us, how would we have known that the buoys marking the entrance channel into Bimini had been, “run over by some wild Cuban sport fishermen” and were still missing.

This concept requires some explanation. The entrance channel into northern Bimini’s harbor (where we stayed at the legendary Weech’s Bimini Dock) is narrow and difficult. On one side there are rocks which of course are strictly to be avoided. On the other side are shifting shoals. Current is always flowing through as we are talking the Ocean here, mon. (OK, except at slack tide if you are lucky enough to hit it just at the right moment of the day). The placing of channel markers was heralded as a major improvement last year, as the only way to navigate this spiny stretch had been to line oneself up on a couple of range markers until arriving at an indeterminate point and take a sharp left, running parallel to south Bimini’s shore until it becomes obvious that one has to change course in order to avoid either rocks or shoals. These adjustments are, of course, visually determined. The trick here is to figure this out quickly enough to avoid any obstacles while battling the aforementioned current. Enough said. After a few horror stories, we decided to take Tom’s advice, avoid the whole mess, and anchor off Cat Cay in preparation for our two-day run to Nassau. Dodged the bullet that time, podner. It would have sucked to arrive after having made the Gulf Stream crossing, only to run aground in the Bimini entrance channel. The Dude abides.

So capping the night off last night was the appearance of Miriam and Vanessa in search of WiFi. I took them over to the library and advised them to set their laptop upon the book return, which I have done so often. I left them happily Facebooking and chatting in Quebecquois, which only Claude and Doug can understand. Prior to leaving, I asked where they would be staying. I was surprised to learn that they intended to stay on Bill’s sailboat, Finesse, which is moored directly behind ours. Apparently this has become a tradition for Canadian sailors. It is mildly concerning that, when their coach came out on the launch to rouse them this morning, there was no response. But then, they are two cute French Canadian girls in Miami with literally hundreds of sailors. Glad my daughters don’t sail.

Back in the Grove!

2009-01-15T11:06:00.000-08:00

We enjoyed our stay at the Miami Yacht Club very much as it afforded us the opportunity to head over to South Beach not once but twice! Our evening expedition was a re-do of last year's experience with the kids (almost)> We started at the Delano because it is always so strikingly beautiful, then on to some happy hour Mojito place on Ocean Drive, then dinner at the Grillfish and finally dancing at Mango's. Fun! Next day we headed over on the inexpensive and quick bus for a big beach walk and general sightseeing. This was all so easy as the Yacht Club is right on the bus route - just past the McArthur Causeway a wee bit. We were anxious enough to get going however, as the weather is developing rapidly. We left this morning and actually pulled the Genoa out for the first time on this trip for a little Biscayne Bay sail. We were almost golden - having located the correct Dinner Key entry channel and having navigated all the possible hazards there. We had the Coconut Grove Sailing Club firmly in our sights, and pulled up just short of their dock for further instructions. The guys motioned to the closest mooring ball to the dock, and Wayne set himself up to turn the boat so I could pick up the mooring ball with the boat hook. At this very moment, a slew of young kayakers were launching from the dinghy dock, right into our trajectory. This, coupled with a sudden gust of wind, meant that Wayne's intended path to the mooring ball was now invalid, and he had to swing around again. Alas, a wide turn was NOT what was in order, as the red ball to our stern was not a special mooring ball but in fact marked a shoal. Yes, our first grounding of the trip was right in front of a bunch of folks at the CGSC. It was a soft grounding, but no way we could get off ourselves. The dockmaster came out in his launch, and said he would pull us off with his big motor. Wayne stayed on the bow and I had the tiller as the guy pulled one way and then another. After several attempts in one direction (which succeeded in burying the stern instead of midships as we were), the dockmaster tried the starboard side and I felt the boat heel some and give. I gave it a good little burst with the throttle - mindful of how many boats were moored very close to our present precarious location - and we came off. Wayne ran back to take the tiller and set up what was to be his final attempt at this mooring ball. With the forces of wind, current, etc. it is an inobvious maneuver. I stationed myself right over the bow pulpit and extended our crazy jury-rigged boathook to it's entire length and stretched...The boat started to drift to starboard again but this time there was NO WAY IN HELL I was not catching that mooring ball and with a last mega-stretch I was able to just get the hook under the tip of the line and pull like mad. Wayne was already dejectedly thinking we had missed it when I said, "No way, I've got it!". He now ran to the front of the boat and grabbed the line from my hands to slip it over our forward cleat. Success! We celebrated by going below for ten minutes of doing nothing prior to making our first excursion back into the world of the sailing club. It sure is nice to be back here with so many familiar places. We are looking forward to resuming our morning runs and visiting local haunts. Claude's brother-in-law, Bill, is out racing from Fort Lauderdale to Key West at the present moment, and we don't expect to see him before the weekend. He should have some outstanding stories to tell, so stay tuned!

on to Miami!

2009-01-12T15:07:00.000-08:00

We arrived at the Miami yacht club after a successful trip with many bridge openings and closings and a provisioning stop up the Collins canal at Publix. Who did we see? Tony and Diane! Life is good. More news tomorrow.

fun in Delray - and beyond

2009-01-11T12:08:00.000-08:00

Our evening in Delray with Karen and Wayne was lots of fun! Delray’s downtown Atlantic Avenue is full of history and eateries. The town itself was founded by folks from Wisconsin, and named for a town near Detroit, MI. It became an important part of Flagler’s eastern-Florida rail system, after which serendipitously it became a tennis center. People moved to Delray largely because of it’s excellent tennis facilities, and the charming original downtown became a playground for the wealthy rather than an urban wasteland. Businesses along the Atlantic Ave. strip range from very upscale restaurants to quirky little places like the one I found – the “Mellow Mushroom”. Wayne and Karen were unfamiliar with this little 70’s throwback, so we started out there with the guys sampling some of the myriad types of beer they had on tap. After that, Wayne T. insisted we go to his favorite “Gator watching” bar. This, of course, is a bar dedicated to Florida Gator fans of the football variety. The Gators were playing in a bowl game, and the bar was in an appropriate frenzy (as was Wayne, a die-hard Gator fan himself). We were invited to join one of Wayne’s friends for a pitcher of Blue Moon, and then moved on toward an eventual dinner destination. On the way to dinner, we stopped at Elwood’s the only remaining truly funky bar on the strip. There we had the good fortune to catch the resident Elvis impersonator for a tune or two, after which I was challenged to get onstage and dance with Ellwood. I said, “of course” and did just so. Elwood, a fine old southern gentleman, was a good dancer. After displaying my chutzpah and dancing ability, we returned to the Mellow Mushroom for great pizza and more football. The Francis team tired early, and we were back on the boat by about 9pm. It was a great, rollicking, fun Florida evening with the most excellent of friends. The next morning we already had a date with our friend Vivian for brunch at her place, and enjoyed a lovely meal with Viv and her grandson Channing. Channing is 23, and getting himself together. He has enrolled in the local community college and is figuring it out. He is fortunate to be able to stay with his grandma during this transitional time, and he is a charming young man.

Returning to the boat, we spent another fabulous afternoon walking the beach of Delray, picking up shells and sea glass and lollygagging about in general. We were hoping to spend the weekend, but regrettably were kicked out by the local constabulary that night (told we could no longer stay tied up at their public wall) and decided to leave in the early am on Saturday. Life being stranger than fiction, we happened to run into a couple of cruisers from Canada on their way to the Bahamas on that same night in Delray. We chatted for awhile, and then got to talking about our first trip down last year. The mere mention of Claude’s name brought great chuckles and amazement, as they had been on this same trip with Claude and Kathy 10 years ago. Their names are Tony and Diane aboard the Vertigo 1. We had a fun chat, then ran into them again yesterday here at the Middle River anchorage in Fort Lauderdale. We think they went out the Lauderale inlet for a calm Bahamas crossing today, and expect to see them somewhere else along the trail.

That brings us to our adventure in provisioning yesterday. We asked for directions to the Super Market, but somehow went astray and walked on a bit farther than anticipated. In fact, this error could have been avoided perhaps by asking directions at a gas station but…A nice gal here at the anchorage told us we just had to walk North on Sunrise Blvd. about a mile to find a Publix. I mentioned to Wayne that I didn’t think that was possible, given that as we were traveling south on the ICW, we had to cross under the Sunrise Blvd. bridge (ergo, Sunrise Blvd. runs east-west). Wayne didn’t seem to think that too important, gauged the direction we were walking from the angle of the sun, and we turned north on what happened to be US-Highway 1 instead. After about a mile and a half we encountered a Winn-Dixie and called it good. After provisioning, we stopped at the East End Bar, apparently a notorious Steeler fan hangout. It was like stepping into a bar in New Brighton, PA. The characters and noise level were outrageous. I sat down next to a gal who at first I thought had a strange hat on. Not so. At closer inspection, she had an Ace bandage wrapped around her head, with bloody gauze pads exuding from it. She knocked back a couple of shots of Jaegermeister, and took off amid jeers from her peers who were calling her a drug addict. Sheesh. Next up was a blond version of Dracula complete with red-rimmed eyes, a ghostly pale countenance, thin lips which opened a crack now and then to speak, smoke, or sip on a gin and tonic, and a surprisingly intact head of pale hair. The guy, who was a nice enough guy, looked to be about 80. Later he and Wayne had a bit of a chat and it turns out the guy was only 62. That is probably the effect of many years of bar-room cigs and booze. The gent had a house in the Poconos and a condo in Lauderdale and was retired, happy, and pleasant enough. An assortment of other characters populated the bar, including various guys named Jimmy, Vito, Santino, and a lady bartender from the UK named Jackie. The patrons all knew each other and were having simultaneous loud discussions about football, hockey, assholes, and bad behavior in general. Most of them had sport-related T-shirts or polos and gold chains, and short dark hair. One of the lady patrons (who looked about 60 but then with this crowd, who knew?) was attired in a skin-tight leopard skin shirt with matching baseball cap – the cap being further adorned with sequins. She had several layers of carefully applied makeup on and a large medallion hung from the chain around her neck. The effect was part Alice Cooper, part Rocky Horror rated “G”. Everyone in the bar was smoking a cigarette at one time or another, and I felt a bit out of place. After our unanticipated long trek to the store, Wayne rightly thought this might be a good opportunity to have a little snack and we decided to stay for an extremely inexpensive basket of French Fries. Good decision, a huge basket of truly fresh fries, some with the skin still on, arrived soon afterward. They were delicious. When discussing the whole scene today with my son, he advised me that this was a good decision because, “they really know their fried foods in the Pittsburgh area”. We ate up the fries, and paid up. The walk back wasn’t so bad; we had consumed plenty of calories we consumed and the blazing sun had descended in the sky, resulting in a very pleasant late afternoon temperature. A lovely full-moon night on the boat followed. This morning we got up early and had a lovely beach-walk. We located a cute little funky old section of town we had visited many years ago, and made a plan to watch the Steelers game at a little beach bar. Again we have just been visited by the local boat police, telling us we are kicked out as there is a 24-hour anchoring rule. We assured the good officer we’d be leaving first thing in the morning, but he was not happy with that answer. Wayne said, OK and the guy left. The young man next to us – who has been here for a week – was much smarter. He hid as soon as he saw the police boat coming. We decided that we are sticking to the plan of leaving in the am and taking our chances – just as we did in Delray. Further analysis of this phenomenon revealed a stock plan for such situations: say your engine needs a part which you are picking up tomorrow morning and then you will be gone asap. With this plan firmly established in both ours minds, we are going back to the beach bar anyway to watch the Steeler game.

Delray days

2009-01-08T10:44:00.000-08:00

We arrived in Delray without problem around 10:30 this morning, sited the park and the wall tie-up, and went on through one more bridge to pump out at the Municipal Marina. This operation lasted approximately 25 minutes (including a walk to a gas station for the ubiquitously necessary quarters), after which we turned right around and were able to catch the 11:00 bridge opening and glide right onto the wall. This is a very pleasant part of the ICW, as there is little to no current and little wind. That was not the case last night, when a big north wind blew up and brought us some rain. We made it back to the boat in time from our in-town excursion, and battened down the hatches just as we were being blown sideways! It's always a strange sensation when a big gust of wind moves the boat at it's whim across the water until the anchor catches. It's hard to describe, except that you just know you are moving as the world shifts. At any rate, the nice rainstorm washed down the boat and we look clean and presentable here in Delray. Tonight we assume we are going to see our friends Wayne Tepper and Karen Stene, and tomorrow we have a date with Vivian Glass for brunch - she lives right here in Delray! It is a beautiful, upscale town with a lovely city center and beautiful beach. The photo above is taken near the sea wall in the very same park. We are hoping they will let us stay a couple of days, but we'll see. If not, it's on to Lauderdale and the Middle River anchorage. The fun never stops! I should mention I am posting this entry at the coolest place, the "Mellow Mushroom" pizza parlor. It's a 70's themed pizza and hoagie place, with a great menu and a phenomenal selection of beers on tap. The prices are outstanding and the staff is terribly nice. The place gets an A+ in my ICW rating book. As a matter of fact, I am hoping these two images will load up so you can get a look at where I am! OK, no, they are taking too long, but I'll try again when I have a more powerful connection.

Leaving Lantana

2009-01-07T12:29:00.000-08:00

We will be pulling up the anchor tomorrow after a lovely brief stay in Lantana. We enjoyed a little happy hour and hors d'oeuvres at the Old Key Lime House last night (where we also tie up our dinghy). This historic building suffered terribly in a hurricane in the 1930's, and it's roof was completely rebuilt using the Seminole chickee hut method. The gentleman who directed the entire proceeding was a Seminole chief, and was meticulous about the selection of materials. It has lasted in good stead until this day, and is capable of withstanding winds of up to 130 mph. It's also a lovely place to watch the sunset and enjoy some outstanding corn bread. This morning we walked over to the beach and had a nice run. The mansions were incredible, as well as the Palm Beach Ritz Carlton. I just could not resist going into the lobby to take a look. Even in our shorts and T-shirts, the staff greeted us as if we were guests and treated us marvelously. This is probably due to the fact that we pretty much looked like the actual guests, and our suntans are browning up nicely. The lobby was exquisite, in pale creams and marble. There were some very modern, abstract paintings which echoed the shades of cream, along with flashes of red in just the right places. Very old "period" paintings and furnishings were mixed in with the modern marble and gleaming gold highlights, and cleverly placed mirrors added to the overall effect of chic but not overdone. It was so lovely, but we really couldn't stay for more than a peek as I am sure we would have been found out soon enough and probably couldn't afford a glass of sparkling water even...Interesting to note that this is in fact ground zero for the Madoff money scheme which is so much in the news ( the "Ponzi" type scheme ). Apparently the number of mansions for sale has risen, and they are up for grabs all over this place for just a few millions. We have not put an offer in yet, so go ahead and buy 'em up, guys.

We did find this anchorage more friendly last year, and the waterway in general is relatively deserted. We have been given a good steer by our friend Wayne Tepper, and will be tying up to a public wall (hopefully) in Delray tomorrow as the anchoring is not great in Boca Raton. Then a couple of days puts us back at the beloved Coconut Grove Sailing Club, from where we will undoubtably be able to post up some photos and discuss the whole Gulf Stream Crossing.

Stuart-Port Salerno

2009-01-04T08:41:00.000-08:00

Our trip from Indiantown to Stuart was relatively uneventful – there was one lock (15 feet) to go through but we arrived at a good time and only had to wait about 10 minutes. That was especially good since the Indiantown Marina had no fuel (!) and we had to make it on the ½ tank leftover from last year. This is an unusual lock as there is no pumping whatsoever. The lock door closes behind the boat, and then depending on your direction, the other one opens either letting water in or out. It was quite breezy and at times a little bit hard to understand exactly what to do with the combination of current and breeze but ultimately no big deal. It was a little bit more edgy coming in to the anchorage here at Manatee Pocket, but we were forewarned that the water is sometimes no more than five feet deep and given our 4-½ foot draft we should be fine. We managed to fuel up a one of the nice marinas here in “the pocket” and then explore our way into the Pirate’s Cove anchorage. Indeed, depths of 4 feet were showing up on the depth sounder, but we “know” we have about another foot of water under that, so incredibly enough I did not even come close to panicking. Another reason could be that this was a 30—mile trip down the Okeechobee waterway and a long, exhausting few days to get this far. Running aground in a nice, safe anchorage doesn’t sound too bad in comparison. We did NOT run aground, and since then we have learned there is a three-foot tide in this area. We have subsequently been aground now and then for bits of time, but always float off again when the tide comes up. We intend to leave here about half-tide rising, as apparently there is a tricky little shoal just at the ICW entrance. The we’ll go only about 9 miles or so to the Hobie Sound, where it’s a piece of cake just to pull of the ICW to starboard and throw out the anchor. There is nothing there save some birds, bushes, and occasionally another boat. It’s a peaceful, restful place. We intend to go there Monday afternoon, and then make a much longer haul to Lantana on Tuesday – provided nothing screws up between now and then. We have profited from access to commerce here, and have purchased a number of things including, unfortunately, a new car-stereo. For whatever reason, our one-year-old Sony died an untimely death. The XM radio comes in (poorly) but perhaps we just need a new antenna for that. We purchased new bedding, filled the propane tanks, obtained endless little supplies and finally bought a solar panel. That should keep all of our “house” power needs met, as well as serving as an emergency charger. The weather has been too beautiful for our winter-white bodies, and we have been putting on lots of sunscreen and avoiding the midday sun if possible. When not possible, we get into the shade immediately after exposure and stay there for the rest of the day. Even with this careful regimen, we are beginning to look browner and leaner from all the walking and schlepping. In a lot of ways, it is glorious to be back, floating around in sun-drenched Florida instead of shoveling like crazy in snow-soaked Marquette.

Splashdown and launch!

2008-12-31T05:27:00.001-08:00

We arrived at the boat at 3am on the 29th, and have worked steadily since then to get her cleaned up and in the water. After changing all fuel filters and the oil, the engine starts and runs. The bilge pump is functioning. Alot of things are "frozen" but with application after application of WD-40 things are freeing up. The weather has been incomparably gorgeous - mid to high 70's and sunny with a light breeze and scattered clouds. We are SO happy to be out in the sun that the hard work and long walks to town to provision are a joy. We intend to leave the marina today and anchor in the Manatee Pocket as the lovely South Anchorage in Stuart is presently closed and won't re-open until January 15th. It's wonderful to be back in Florida, and in the sun for the first of the year.

On the road again

2008-12-27T09:18:00.001-08:00

Here is the misty view from our lovely hotel room in beautiful downtown…Green Bay. I guess we are slow starters. Just a week ago or so, we had some sailor friends over to dinner. While discussing our last trip, Wayne observed that we experienced our first difficulties at Shot Point, about 10 miles from Marquette. One gentleman remarked, “You must mean Whitefish Point”. No. Shot Point. As the faithful may recall, this was the first time our brand-new diesel engine stalled due to a clogged fuel filter. We seem to be leading a parallel existence, as our first impossible barrier to forward progress occurred a mere 3-hour car ride from Marquette: the vortex of Green Bay. Never mind the confusion the night before leaving regarding whether or not Wayne had a reservation, followed by the discovery we were routed two different ways: by cosmic coincidence we were both re-booked through Green Bay (I had gone to the airport ostensibly to bring him home after his flight was cancelled) and put on a van to this Cheese Capital of the Midwest. We obtained a room at the downtown Holiday Inn on a dreary and foggy night, in the anticipation of a 6:30 am flight to Minneapolis followed by a first-class flight to Fort Lauderdale. Yes, we could not be re-booked to West Palm Beach in any way, shape, or form. But hey, we thought we would just figure it out from there. Who cares when you are in Florida? We set the alarm for 4:30 am, and drifted off to a blissful vision of palm trees and crashing ocean waves. Awakening was not difficult; given the exciting day we were to have. As a last-minute thought, I turned on the cell phone and discovered we had a message. I naively thought it was my daughter calling to tell me how much she loved me. Not a chance. It was a computer from Northwest Airlines telling us our 6:30 flight had been cancelled and we were re-booked the following evening at 6pm via Detroit, arriving in Fort Lauderdale on midnight the 28th. Cold shards of fear knifed into our otherwise sleepy and warmly optimistic little head clouds and straight down into our guts. We went to the airport anyway, hoping for a miracle. Any number of entreaties, wild plans, visions of renting a car and driving to Chicago, taking Amtrak, or taking a bus to Milwaukee disappeared into the oppressive fog as we slowly believed the word and the word was this: three days of holiday traffic and miserable weather in the Midwest has left hundreds of travelers stranded in Detroit, Chicago, Minneapolis, and anywhere else we could get to from here. We were the last in a LONG line of sufferers. We were assured that our re-booking was secure, and having a confirmed reservation was about as good as gold at this point. The fog goggles were lifted from our eyes, and we finally noticed that our fellow travelers all had the classic UP “deer in the headlight” look. Wide, blankly staring eyes, red-rimmed and unbelieving were the norm among the other airport shufflers. Finally understanding the magnitude of the situation, we headed back to the lovely Holiday Inn City Centre, Green Bay. Tomorrow the Packers play the Lions in their final home game, and we will be in town to witness it. Hope Aaron Rodgers can see the end zone by then.

Southbound...I think....

2008-12-25T17:42:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas everyone! Ours was going quite well, getting organized, everything humming for our departure tomorrow. The lovely snowy scene you see is indeed Marquette, a great day on the Cross Country Ski trails. But the lure of the warm climates and warm waters is too great and we are heading down the ICW again...almost. Nothing is without some drama. I pulled up my reservations on Northwest Airlines' frequent flyer page and printed my boarding pass a scant hour or so ago. Not so for Wayne. I looked with every variable at my command, but could not find a reservation for him at NWA.com. No panic, these things happen. Knowing that he had booked the flight with a credit card reward program, we figured the credit card company could provide us with some kind of number with which we could extract his flight info and print out a boarding pass. No luck there either! The E-ticket number we were given produced absolutely no current reservations. The only thing left was to try Northwest again. Again, because with the overload of people being re-booked due to atmospheric conditions, our earlier attempt was rebuffed with the message, "our system is overloaded, try your call again later." Luckily, our "later" call went through and after about 15 minutes on hold we were able to speak with our saviour of the day, Josh. Josh was a really nice guy who seemed to understand what we were saying. He could not pick up Wayne's reservation with just a first and last name, we already knew Wayne's frequent flyer number wasn't going to do us any good, but when we arrived at the idea that (for other and incredibly silly reasons) Wayne's credit card had been reissued in a different number, we were a little bit stumped. But then Josh said..."did you get a bunch of schedule changes?" Well right off the bat, Josh and I were on the same page and while I checked Wayne's email (because in fact, he had) Josh was able to root around in the old Northwest Airlines computer and pull up Wayne's reservation after all. Hosanna in the highest! While Josh gave me numbers, I plugged them into the nwa.com webpage and, miracle of miracles, there was Wayne's reservation. Too bad he is flying out at a different time than me and has to connect first through Detroit and then through Newark. No matter, our vision of having to buy a $500 plane ticket to get Wayne to Palm Beach disappeared, and we are just happy enough that he has a boarding pass. You see, we still need to buy a functioning 8hp dinghy motor when we hit Nassau (yes, Claude, we have a propeller now for the Tohatsu). With a $500 plane ticket in the unexpected budget column, the nice new dinghy motor was fading fast. That, coupled with the economic downturn in general, would have resulted in a rather dreary Christmas. But no! By hook or by crook, no matter how, we WILL bloody get to Florida, pick up the boat, and float around in Stuart for as long as it takes to get a little suntan. The action never stops on this blog, so stay tuned, sports fans!

In the Hood

2008-06-22T16:51:00.000-07:00

We are back in the gorgeous outback of Northern Michigan. Wayne is making art in his studio and I am selling jewelry on Saturday mornings. The children take up alot of our time, but it is well as we were away quite a bit. We have had winter (in April it was snowing), spring and a taste of summer. We went to a solistice party on the lovely beach of Marquette's Lakewood Lane this weekend, and the sun was high and full until 10PM. Gotta love it.

Homeward Bound

2008-04-09T09:19:00.000-07:00

We left Nassau on a good weather window and sailed like crazy for two days across the banks, anchoring near the Northwest Channel Light the first day (in the middle of nowhere on the ocean, basically) and made it to Bimini the next day. After a day of recovery, we anchored out on the ocean side -which was supposedly in the lee that night - and awaited the Gulf Stream Crossing planned for the next morning. Did we realize that night would blow up like crazy with lightening and thunderstorms all around? I guess not. It was a bit hellish. No, that's an understatement. It was hellish. The boat was being tossed about like crazy, things flying from one side to the other all night, meanwhile lightening is flashing all around and it's raining torrents. Yikes! When it finally all settled down there was no question but we had to limp back to the dock (Weech's Bimini Dock) and tie up and get some rest. Whew! Although the predictions were good for crossing the Gulf Stream in terms of wind direction and wave heights, the threat of thunderstorms was high. I already had flights booked from Palm Beach to Marquette, and was relatively determined to make them. This left us only one option - to go the next day or get stuck behind a new weather front and wait another week in Bimini. We made a deal that if it was nice in the morning we would go. Around midnight, the thunderstorms and lightening blew up again, and persisted throughout the night and into the morning. It all started to lighten up around 7:30am, at which time we started to think really hard. Luckily, a number of other sailors were on the VHF talking about the single sideband reports they had heard and their Sirius weather connections, etc. While Wayne was talking to the guys in the boat next door, I heard a conversation between 2 parties, one of whom said the latest report was rising barometric pressure in Miami and the other who said the radar showed the thunderstorms moving off to the north. I popped up out of the boat and said, "we're going". Wayne looked at me for a minute (having had hair-raising experiences with thunderstorms on Lake Superior) and said, "ok." By 9:00 that morning we had gotten out the tricky entrance channel and were in the Gulf Stream. The wind was pretty good - South-Southwest - which gave us a close-hauled reach. The current was pushing us north and the wave heights were very decent. We blasted across the Ocean at maximum speed and ended up in the Fort Lauderdale mooring field by 5pm. Heaven! We made it! We were beat but euphoric. Didn't get off the boat till the next day. About 30 miles and 13 bridges later (each bridge requires one to wait for the next "opening" time) we dropped anchor in Lantana near the Old Lime House restaurant. We knew this anchorage from our way down with Claude. We inflated the dinghy, put the motor on (which by some miracle worked) and got into town. There may in fact be a god or maybe it was the force. Well, whatever it was - there was a public library within 6 blocks with internet and printer capabilities. Wayne managed to activate the cell phone, book his own flights with frequent flyer miles, and call the marina in Indiantown. I booked a hotel room near the airport on Hotwire, printed out my flight and hotel confirmations, and we were golden. Had a lovely dinner at the Old Key Lime House and took the dinghy back to Cassie for my last night on board. The anchorage was wonderfully calm and we spend a lovely night. Bags packed and ready for action, Wayne dropped me off this morning and went on to do battle with about 45 more miles of the ICW (including bridges, bummer) to take the boat to Stuart on the St. Lucie River. He will anchor in the Hobe Sound tonight and with any luck reach civilization again tomorrow. I feel awful for bailing on him but... I just took a very long, luxurious shower in the lovely room I have at the Doubletree (used to be the Radisson) after a great run and workout in the clean and well-equipt gym. I am using a computer which is available to guests at all times, and I feel and smell great! I have HBO in the room and am not likely to leave it very often. I have books, television, a bathroom, individually controlled climate, all the soap and lotion and toilet paper I could ever want. In short, nirvana. I understand it's snowing at home and have asked my son to bring me warm socks, boots and a jacket when he picks me up (with any luck my plane will make it) tomorrow night. Maybe I'll still get a chance to do some cross-country skiing this year! The Carribean chapter closed for me now, my thoughts are entirely with my family and friends up north. We have decided, however, to keep Cassie another year and venture off to and through the Florida Keys next winter. Yeehaw!

+

2008-04-09T09:18:00.000-07:00

Bimini and the trip home

2008-04-05T12:10:00.000-07:00

We blasted up to Bimini from Nassau in 2 days, and took the day off today to recover. Bimini as you may know is a famed fishing haunt of Ernest Hemingway. We saw a lot of photos and interesting memorabilia in the museum and just generally hung out all day. It's a very fun place, but not a fun place to take your boat in and out of - the channel is narrow and inobvious. We'll be basically going by sight to the deeper waters. We're leaving in just a couple of hours to navigate this treacherous channel, make a big arc and swing around to the ocean side of north Bimini where we will drop the hook asap and just hang on until the wee hours of the morning. This will require more navigation by sight and depth sounder but we are communing with the medichlorians and hope the force will be with us. Then we'll lift up the anchor in the wee hours and head straight over to Lake Worth, thereby crossing the Gulf Stream during what we hope is an excellent weather window. Homeward bound!

Finally - the green flash!

2008-03-29T08:25:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been full of action and adventure as we sail back up the Exumas to eventually cross back to the States from Bimini. We had a CRANKING big sail from Staniel Cay to Norman's Cay - 20+ knot winds and a great beam reach. Cassie hit 7 knots plus with just the Main and the Genoa. What a great ride! At Norman's we enjoyed a lovely walk on the beach ( having wisely anchored on the west side this time) and "the best burger in the Bahamas" at McDuff's. But the highlight of the evening came just as we were leaving. McDuff's has an outstandingly lovely large porch which faces the ocean and gives one the most extraordinary view of the sunset. The sun was just starting to slip below the horizon, so I gathered up Wayne and two elderly couples on the porch to enjoy the view and we were all startled and ecstatic to see - for the first time ever- the GREEN FLASH! The other 2 couples were leaving Norman's the next day, and were so enthused by the event it was totally uplifting. The next day we snuck out between the sand bars and sailed all the way to Nassau, where we are now. Life is great on the homeward stretch and we expect to be in Bimini within a week's time. The Bahamas have been a dream come true, and Cassie has been a mighty and fine boat. We do have one party interested in her presently, and will just wait to see how it all develops. For now, we are living it up in Nassau!

Back in Staniel

2008-03-24T07:27:00.000-07:00

Back in Staniel Cay, which is now a George Town satellite. What a difference from our first visit here – last night we were at the lovely Yacht Club clubhouse and just about everyone who walked in was someone we already knew. This included a huge surprise for us as we were amazed to see Bill and Caroline walk in – our friends from Oriental, NC! We had been wondering if they had ever made it south on Worthless Wench and indeed they did. They had their own horror stories of leaving only to encounter major boat/engine/systems problems and having to return to their departure point almost immediately. After an extensive amount of time and money, they left again. This time they put the hammer down and did a five-day open water crossing to Spanish Wells! They have been at Staniel for over a month, and are really enjoying the laid-back atmosphere and beautiful reefs and beaches.

As for ourselves, we seem to be hooked on the lifestyle despite the challenges and have decided to put Cassiopeia on the market. Yes, we are sick, sick, sick and hoping to buy a bigger boat so that we can have guests! We intend to take Cassie to Indiantown where we hope someone who wants to get into cruising will take advantage of her being in Florida already, dispensing with the need to torture oneself down the ICW. She’s a great boat, mighty sailor (we even passed people on the big Exuma sound coming up from Georgetown to the Cave Cay cut), and has no systems to fail. Our mighty diesel has been performing like a champ every time, and the icebox only requires the addition of ice to keep stuff cold. The only reason we need a larger boat is so that mom and kids and friends can come and share this incredible experience with us. She’s the perfect “starter” boat for a cruising couple, her kinks already having been worked out by this past year.

Speaking of incredible experiences, yesterday we got to dive on the Thunderball cave. Glorious, riotous schools of brightly-colored tropical fish swim within inches of your nose and surround you while piercing shafts of sunlight illuminate the swirling sea life. I had an old waterproof instamatic that must have been Sarah’s from Presbytery Point, and took a few photos I guess. I guess because you can’t really see what the heck you are doing through the mask, etc and I was clearly on the move while doing this. It would be fun if they turn out, but I’m not holding my breath. Today we have more chores ahead and less fun – we need to prepare for the next Norther which will come through tonight or early tomorrow morning including moving the boat to a more protected anchorage. With all the friends in the anchorage and the lovely locals in Staniel, I can hardly think of a better place to be.

Regatta Wrap up

2008-03-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

The wind has been coming from the North now for about 24 hours, and we are tucked well away from it behind the huge hill upon which sits the famous George Town Monument. The monument is really just an obelisk, put there many years ago before GPS systems so that sailors might have a visual clue as to where they were. Regatta week is winding down, and Wayne with it. Our regatta week woes started with the implosion of the propeller on our new dinghy motor. A shear pin malfunction is about all I know. It would have been darn close to impossible to get a suitable replacement part (a small plastic propeller) shipped to us in any reasonable amount of time for less than about $100. So, we decided to upgrade from a 3.5 horsepower motor to an 8! The guy who sold it to us blew town the next day after claiming it had worked great for him. For about a day, we were in heaven! Then one of our very astute boating friends said he heard a whine characteristic of a lack of oil in the bottom shaft assembly. This nice guy was willing to help Wayne pull the dinghy up on the beach and haul the motor onto a picnic table to perform the necessary maintenance. It took about 20 minutes, after which the 2 men brought the motor back to the water for a little test. Holding onto the motor, they started it up in neutral and checked the functioning. Wayne’s buddy Doug said, “OK man, now shut er off…” Woe to the Wayne. His brain transmogrified this simple command into an error so incomprehensible that it is to be the main joke at the Variety Show tonight. To wit, instead of pushing the little red button which would have shut off the motor, Wayne’s hand somehow selected the option of pushing forward the lever which would in fact put the motor in gear, thus causing 8 hp of propeller power to spin wildly under the water. Of course the guys both let go of the thrashing motor, but Wayne’s brain went even further to instruct him that he should somehow try to tackle the beast. “Get the f**k away from it, man!!!!!”, yelled Doug. Luckily Wayne came out of the experience with a bruised and abraded right leg but no permanent damage. The motor itself gradually choked with water and stopped, at which point the guys dragged it back out to the picnic table – but now the task at hand was a 2-hour cleaning and attempt to extract every bit of water and salt from the important parts. This seemed to work and Wayne took it for a test drive. During the test drive, the propeller on the “new” motor decided it was time to quit as well by slipping out of sync. Doug jury-rigged it with some screws and the guys ordered a new propeller from Nassau, which should arrive tomorrow on the “Grand Master” which is the primary source of supplies for all of George Town. Since then, it has alternately worked and not worked, started and not started, and has generally been an excruciating pain in the ass. There is a medical term for this sort of ass pain – exquisite tenderness. Any thought of dinghies, dinghy motors, propellers or the like puts Wayne into a funk of monumental proportions, which brings us back to our anchorage at the monument. In just a few hours, we will complete our Regatta Week activities by taking the stage for our one shining moment of glory, singing the George Town Blues. We debuted the song aboard Free Bird in front of about 120 dinghies at George Town’s first ever rock-n-roll dinghy drift and have not stopped to receive compliments since. Folks tell us we are sure to be the big hit of the Variety Show tonight. This is taking for granted the idea that we are actually going to be able to get there. Soon I’ll be waking the captain from a well-deserved nap to prepare for the show and give us about an hour’s lead time for what should be a ten minute dinghy ride. Yes, Regatta Week has been fun – yesterday we participated in the Sand Sculpture contest and the Arts and Crafts fair. Wayne sold two wall pieces and I just about cleaned out my entire inventory, so it hasn’t been all bad. If I can, I’ll post up a picture or two of some of my friends modeling my jewelry.

I should also mention that we were aboard our friends Gord and Suzanne’s boat last night (Camelot II) enjoying a delicious stew and a few hands of euchre. The boating community has repeatedly come to our assistance with rides here and there, offers of dinner when we run out of food, offers to use the internet, technical advice and assistance – you name it these guys are great.

Sorry about the length of this post, but it is now Wednesday and we brought Cassie over to the town side of the bay in the hope of getting her “gassed up” (with diesel) and ready for the trip home. It is blustery, the wind from the SE and coming 20 to 25 knots. Why did we think this was a good idea? I guess because we want to be ready for the good weather window coming up this weekend. We found that a number of huge luxury ships are docked at the rickety George Town facility, some right in front of the gas dock. Rather than attempting to sneak in there and possibly do major damage, we have elected to throw out the anchor and wait out the blow. It should settle down tonight and we’ll reassess and try to gas up tomorrow.

Our tune was a big hit last night! People want us to record it and then send it to them on MP3 format. I am hoping our son Thomas will help us do this, being the computer whiz he is. One guy suggested we get electronic boat cards with the song on a little chip. Perhaps if we should win the lottery or some money just falls out of the sky. For the present moment, however, all monies continue to be poured into the hole in the water which is known as the boat. We know this to be par for the course, and are slowly resigning ourselves to the realities of boat life. But there are always upsides! Tonight is karaoke night at Eddie’s Edgewater, and since we’re over here anyway we might just be adventuresome and go. Fred’s (my bridge partner) three charming daughters are here and we’ve been hanging around with them a bunch. They are three young professional women; one just got her PhD in Latin American Studies, one works for the Mayor of New York City – Bloomberg, and the third is just out of college and cutting her teeth in the big bad world. They are a lot of fun and very bright to boot so here’s hoping they might show up as well for another night of silliness and singing.

more regatta fun

2008-03-17T10:35:00.001-07:00

just a quick update: Wayne's team won second place in Volleyball, and my partner and I won second place in the beginner's bridge tournament. For an idea what this is all like, please go to georgetowncruisingregatta.org or google it up. We are still (again) in dinghy motor hell, now having purchased one from another guy. Funny thing, he left right afterwards. Now it won't start and we need a new prop. Geez Louise, we are about ready to cash it in and head back north. If there wasn't all that snow...anyway more action shots and news as soon as the internet is more available. (Like when the dinghy motor works.)

Regatta Dayz

2008-03-12T07:33:00.000-07:00

Here is the lovely path leading to the big beach on the Ocean side of Stocking Island. Also a peek at my Pilates class. The extra training paid off, as we took second place in the Coconut Challenge: Wayne, myself, and Cathy and Dave from Puff. The challenge consisted of 4 silly adults in a dinghy, equipt with one flipper each, paddling like crazy to pick up a maximum number of coconuts that had been released into the bay. It was great, wet, silly fun. We all got boat flags for our efforts. Apparently the entire Regatta nonsense will be chronicled on a website, which (if the pictures are not too incriminating) we will put on the blog. Didn't do as well with the Ultimate Trivia challenge, but Wayne is geared up and stoked to be in the Volleyball tournament tomorrow and then Tennis on Friday. I'm helping with the Children's Day on Friday, then will be in the novice division Bridge tournament (duplicate) on Saturday. Then just the Sand Sculpture event on Monday and Variety Show on Tuesday. Our song, the Georgetown Blues, has become a real cult hit, and we've been asked to sing it for a publicity event for the Bahamian Music Festival. The event will be televised and put on Youtube. Yikes! As such, I have a GREAT excuse to go out and buy something new to wear, which I am about to do! Life is silly and fun, and we'll keep you updated as to our successes and failures as they come.

G Town Impressions

2008-03-03T13:42:00.000-08:00

Impressions of George Town. I pull out of the Tennis Club yesterday, ready for errands, a hopeful for a trip to the bank, clean and new. Cross the road to the side I think I should be walking on in order for the cars and trucks that come rattly-screaming up and over the hill on the narrow one-and-a-half lane road out of town. I am walking slightly behind a youngish Bahamian man. A friend of his appears out the entrance road to the quarry, riding a 4-wheeled ATV. They speak quickly, laugh, the friend moves on with the parting words, “and to tink I tought dat was wit you….” I know they mean me. I am wearing short shorts, a little tank top, sunglasses and wet hair piled up ontop my head. I have a backpack on my back and Columbia sandals on my feet. I look like a “cruiser” for sure (a boat person). Don’t I? What do I look like to these Bahamian men? I know I am going to be running the gauntlet on the way back into town, and cross the street to avoid the men who gather in front of the Silver Dollar bar. Why am I afraid of them? I am an educated woman, an American, an old women’s libber…all they do is…say things. Anywhere I went alone in Nassau, men would make comments. The impersonality of the city and hustle and noise diluted the effect. Here, I don’t feel comfortable at all. Although it’s cloudy, I retreat behind my sunglasses. If they can’t see my eyes, they can’t see me. I can pretend I can’t see them and not pay any attention. I don’t want to be rude, but I am in a strange culture here that I don’t understand. I’ve almost made it to the library when a couple of guys spill out of a truck right in front of me. One says, “good mahwnin beeyoutiful, it justs makes my day to see a pretty young ting like you...” I am a 48-year old mother of three, veteran of three caesarians with the scars and less than perfect abdomen to show for it. Is this guy blind? How can I respond? How can I not? He did say good morning so I stammer out…”gee thanks” or something and try to move on quickly. His buddy is saying , “c’mon, c’mon, c’mon over heah, c’mon”. I accelerate. I am a stranger to their ways. I am a “wealthy” cruiser in a third-world country being completely thrown off my game by two men whose easy banter confuses and embarrasses me. My sunglasses do not shield me sufficiently. I refuse to be intimidated. I will walk places by myself. I do my business quickly at the library and head determinedly for J & K. It’s quiet, cool, dark, and full of other cruisers. I am safe. No one has made comments along the way. The sunglasses worked. I settle down to something I know and love – surfing the internet.

Susan arrives looking for a fax. I met her first at the St. Francis Resort. She was trying to get onto their wifi. So was I. We had a little chat and I was charmed by her southern drawl and freckled face. She is a fellow jewelry lover. She wears great fun stuff and lots of it. She will surprise you: seated she looks just like a sweet little Southern lady, but when she stands up she approaches six feet in height. I mentioned yesterday that she is here on the Black Pearl look-alike. What I may have omitted is her story. She tells it to me in the unlikely setting of a little green shack on a Bahamian out-island, quietly and sincerely. She comes from a farm in Tennessee. She is here with Skip, who was first a high-school sweetheart and then came in and out of her life at times. She led a reasonably gentlewomanly sheltered life in the South, full of PTA meetings and lunches and charity work and society affairs. Things changed, her sons grew. Then she lost one. Lost a son. My throat goes dry. Panic. Racing pulse. Unimaginable heartache. No way. I am NOT losing mine. That would be a guaranteed trip to the psychiatric hospital. I am stunned, speechless. I croak out, “ Oh, I am so sorry…” She must have told this story many times before, she barely loses a beat and continues. A brief acknowledgement of the profound consequences of this event; she says that she became a social worker to work with troubled youths after his loss. She did not find her salvation there, but in the unheralded reappearance of Skip in her life and his offer to sail to the Caribbean aboard a pirate ship. Susan had never been aboard a sailboat. Skip sailed a few times, small boats, small lakes. What has she got to lose? To the utter astonishment of her friends, her sons, the pick-a-little ladies back in Tennessee and society page editors, she decides to go. Yes, she gets on board this pirate ship and the two of them make their way to an old pirate capital – George Town. Fifteen months later, they are still on the boat. Here’s the point: she tells me she is a new woman. She feels strong, confident, alive, almost fearless. She has recreated herself. A phoenix. A new path. She confides in me that even her most well-heeled girlfriends back home are jealous. She is living the fantasy and becoming in the process. We celebrate our becoming quietly with a promise to get together in the next few days. We are now sisters in the sisterhood of women who cast themselves out to sea with no experience and a dream to follow.

Today it’s not nice out. We are being buffeted by one cold front after another. The northerly wind is bringing squalls and clouds. Wayne is glad for the chance to read and nap, having played tennis and volleyball all day yesterday. I am antsy as heck, didn’t get any exercise yesterday. I want to run on the ocean-side beach. By ten AM he decides he does not want to go, and I get what I wanted – a solo run on the beach. I take the dinghy the short ride to Stocking Island’s lee side and tie it up to a baby Casuarina. The trail over to the big beach meanders gently through the Bahamian vegetation, the occasional lizard scattering before my feet as my thundering footsteps announce my invasion. The terrain is alternately rocky and sandy. In the most thickly wooded areas, a canopy of palm leaves shades me from what little sun there is. It feels like going through a tunnel. The trail bursts onto a ridge of sand with a crashing of sound and sights. The waves are huge! The roar of the surf compounds the wail of the wind and there is nothing but beach to behold. You can forget everything else. I am standing on a beach for which privilege people pay $300 a night at the crappy little cabins closeby. All I have to do is endure some swinging on the anchor and a two-month trip down the ICW and I get to do this for free. I am free. I am alone. It is magnificent. I am so happy the weather has given me this time to be alone. I move down to the area closest to the water where the sand is most firm. It’s low tide. I have timed it just right. I think about Susan. I think about home. I think about my theory that artists are people who see things a bit better, recognize patterns, see through things, see truths, and are wounded by the ugliness of the world. I am no artist, but I live with one. I am also wounded by the ugliness of the world. I am running on one of the most gorgeous beaches in the world, and healing. The yoga is healing. The running is letting my mind blank. The yoga works on concentrating the breath and the body into the all, letting the mind go blank. But it’s not blank, it’s on overdrive. Stop. Stop the thoughts. Be quiet. No luck. But I’m getting there. All the petty ugliness I have encountered, all the conflict, controversy, arguing over kids-money-politics-religion-education-you name it. No gossip. All new. New people. New experiences. I am Susan, I am becoming, I am recreating, I am phoenix. Little rain pellets knife into me, but it’s all fresh and good and I’m running next to the pounding waves and running into the roaring wind and wishing this wall all I ever had to do. The squall moves on. I’m almost done with my run. My knees want no more of it. I have to respect the knees. It’s over. The autohelm is on as I walk back through the trail, oblivious. Stretch. Get in the dinghy. Back to the boat. The boat is like sensory deprivation – I’ve been living within it’s eight-by-ten confines for 8 months now. It’s ok. I wash up a little with a bit of fresh water in a dish basin and a washcloth, thinking about how much I hated this as a child. My mother would make me stand naked in the bathroom while she scrubbed me up with a washcloth. I was to stand still and submit silently. I was appalled at this undignified procedure, but powerless to stop her. Now it feels wonderful, fresh, cool and clean. Reinvention. A new person. Creating new schema, new memories, a new set of experiences with which to interpret the world. I am an adventurer, in the Women of the Sea sisterhood. I am a new bride again. I am brown. I am a sailor. I am.

George Town life

2008-03-01T08:02:00.000-08:00

I am back at J&K Computers (the little green shack) with incredibly fast connection and so able to post up a few pictures. The first one is at the "Chat and Chill" on Volleyball Beack - this is the social mecca. This is the beach where yoga (and pilates) happens, bridge, dominoes, volleyball, and just about every other major activity including the dances. The second 2 pictures were taken at our quiet little beach on the other end of Stocking Island - our favorite shade trees and Wayne is in his secret workshop. The last picture is the Straw Market in downtown George Town, where local ladies sell their hand-made hats, baskets, etc. Today I get to be downtown while Wayne has to sweat it out there playing tennis with the big boys (and girls). I started out, however, by walking to the tennis club with him so that I could take a shower. Heaven! I have not had a shower and hair-washing (yes, the braids came out) since last Saturday and it's well worth the walk! It's cool in here at J&K and the fans are blowing on us. Julius - the proprietor - is a sweetheart and extremely helpful. He printed a couple of documents for me so that we can all go to school this summer, and now I'm just playing on the computer.

Playing is on the agenda next week. Here are the activities we are involved in: "Sail Past" (presentation of the 'fleet' to the local dignitaries), Opening Night masked ball and fashion show, Coconut Challenge, Ultimate Trivia Challenge, Volletyball, Children's Day, Tennis, Bridge, Sand Sculpture, Arts and Crafts Display and the Variety Show. What a couple of busy weeks! This week will be my last teaching pilates, as the action is really heating up on the beach.

The past couple of days we had another "cold front" meaning the temperature dropped into the seventies. Chilling! Cloudy weather with rain squalls kept us on the boat most of the time, but we were able to invite our friends Klaus and Rachel over for a lovely dinner. They are leaving on Sunday and we'll really miss them. We have other nice acquaintences and friends, but we get along so well with them that it will leave a big void. Just now I've had a long delightful conversation with Susan of Susan and Skip who are aboard Wayward Gypsy. Their boat is a three-masted square rigger with a sleek black hull. She looks like the Black Pearl of Pirates of the Carribean fame. Susan explained that she and her man left their farm in Tenessee (no lie!) with little to no sailing experience and are now living the romantic dream aboard a ship with two king-size berths and dark mahogany woodwork all around down below. Har, har har, matey! She was kind enough to invite Wayne and myself to stop over for cocktails, so we can see how the other half lives...she did say that she had never even thought of this kind of adventure before and that her family and friends are shocked that she is still out here on the ocean after 15 months. Just next to me is a strikingly beautiful German lady named Jutta in fantastic shape. She comes to Yoga and Pilates and is active in everything. There are folks from the UK, folks from the USA and folks from just about everywhere here in George Town. It is a model of how so many conflicting cultures and interests can get along in a reasonably small space. With the future of our country - and perhaps the world -hanging in the balance of the next Presidential election, we hope that we can learn to do the same on a global scale.

Regatta Time

2008-02-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

It’s a hot, still day on the water, a rarity since we’ve arrived. We’re getting ready to go to “Beach Church” a half-hour non-denominational Christian service that the cruisers themselves organize. It appears as if the choir is the highlight of the service. Should be a great time to reflect upon the gift of being here as well as all the other gifts we have been given in this life. No gifts for me yesterday, however, as Wayne and I played in the first “tennis mixer”. This event was in preparation for the tennis tournament scheduled for “Regatta Week”. I’ll try to explain Regatta Week a little later in the post. At any rate, we had a wet 20+ minute dinghy ride into town, followed by a 12 or 15-minute hike out to February Point, a lovely condo resort close to George Town. We were immediately grateful for the air-conditioned tennis clubhouse, clean and spacious bathrooms, and general upscale nature of the entire facility. The event had been announced as an opportunity for players of all levels (A, B, C and D = me) to get together for a fun time to start working on teaming up players based on their ability level. So, 9 “A” level players show up and me. Wayne and I partner for the first doubles game and I am instantly struck by the fact that I am the only idiot unable to play tennis on the court. After we lose our first match, it is suggested that everybody change partners and play with someone new. This strikes fear into my heart, as I will have to inflict my lack of ability on a stranger. I mention that I might prefer to play with Wayne if I can. The organizer does not hear me, and starts directing people to pair up with new people. One of the gals there says, “I would but she whined about not wanting to….” The other shoe drops and my self-esteem hits rock bottom. I am NOT having fun. OK, so I go through the whole thing with various partnerships trying to be a good sport. Each new partner wants me to stand here or stand there, do this not that, etc. on and on. Everyone else is having a great game, as long as I am not on their team. Well, they are not going to get me off the courts, I can tell you that much. So I stick out the entire event which earns grudging respect from a few and even some scattered praise for being a plucky beginner. After submitting to this torture, the payoff is a big, beautiful shower and a real washing of the hair. First time since Nassau, that would be a month. Heaven. Never mind that by the time we walk back to town we are sweaty again. My hair is out of the braids and clean, clean, clean! It even smells great. Forget tennis humiliation, this was worth it. Wayne had a great time and admitted that the gals were actually of an incredible level. He and his friend “Rockin’ Ron” the Volleyball King squared off against the two top female players, and lost! These gals were GOOD. In addition to the clean, fragrant hair the benefit of this event is that now I do not have to participate in the tennis tournament and can stay on the beach that day to help with the Children’s Regatta Event.

Regatta Week: a week of mainly silly and sometimes serious activities designed to keep the cruising community of George Town motivated toward some end more purposeful than random and frequent alcohol consumption. Events range from the aforementioned tennis tournament to “Coconut Challenge” (four people in one dinghy armed each with one flipper attempting to collect as many floating coconuts as possible). Of course there are things for me like Bridge and Trivial Pursuit and things for Wayne like Volleyball and any other number of silly and serious events including a real sailboat regatta. Each day at 8:00 am the VHF radio waves are animated by the Cruiser’s Net, announcing the days’ activities, the Regatta preparation and events, and a kind of tradio of those offering stuff and those needing stuff. The cruisers earn “points” for their participation in Regatta events – I’m not kidding – and the boat with the most points earns some dubious honor as being the greatest participants in the year’s Regatta Week. The event opens with a black and white masquerade dance for which we are even now contemplating the making of our masks. It ends with a variety show, for which Wayne has written a quirky little 12-bar blues jam. He and I collaborated on the words, and although he insists I sing while he plays I think the crowd will be laughing at the words themselves more than my singing. We are looking forward each to our own events (his physical and mine “intellectual”) as well as getting a couple of crazies to get into our dinghy for the Coconut Challenge. If you are still wondering about this all, please review the definition of Regatta Week.

On to the people: we mentioned Pam and Oliver on Dajarlo before. They are both so delightful it’s hard to say much more. Pam has a voice that sounds like elves laughing and fairies twinkling. She always has a smile for everyone, and when she is not announcing the Cruisers Net it’s just not the same. Then there’s Rockin’ Ron and Karen on Sea Dancer. Ron is not only the organizer of the “A” league volleyball players, he’s also the DJ for the dances. He’s a great, friendly guy with a multitude of talents not the least of which is a serious Jitterbug ability. He spins discs for the cruisers every other week or so at the Chat and Chill and we all love dancing under the stars, looking out at the beautiful Bahamian water and the lovely Casuarina trees. Dances start and end early, and all there have a wonderful time. Karen is a great partner for Ron – when they get together on the dance floor it’s as if she is super-glued to him. We are looking forward to another dance this Tuesday, and Wayne is helping Ron with a little carpentry project to add lights all around. Ooopppsss, well time to go to “church”. More later!

More G'town

2008-02-20T08:55:00.000-08:00

Here's a couple of photos of downtown George Town: main street, me in front of the Computer Mecca and hi-tech center, and Wayne carrying the laundry to the laundromat (sorry it won't rotate correctly). We are still having a gas with all the activites - some we participate in, some we don't. Yesterday they organized a "dinghy float" - people rafted up their dinghies and brought coctails and hors d'oeuvres and floated around the bay togther. We did pass on that one, but this day camp for adults just keeps comin with the crazy ideas. We are loving the great weather and new friends from all over the world, more portraits soon as time is limited today. The most wonderful thing recently is that a lovely gentleman from Canada (Karl) somehow was exposed to our blog and offered us to look at HIS trimaran which is here in G'town! Life is great, the good energy keeps flowing all around.

Lovely George Town

2008-02-16T07:21:00.000-08:00

Here are two views of the George Town/Elizabeth Harbor taken from the top of the largest hill upon which there is a huge monument to help sailors find the entrance. The harbor is actually just the space between Great Exuma and Stocking Island. It provides a lot of protection and a lot of activity. We have made SO MANY wonderful new friends! There is a couple from Minnesota who sailed here in their beautiful big Hans Christian - about 40-foot monohull. Their names are Klaus and Rachel. She's a massage therapist and reikki practitioner with a large holistic practice, and he just retired as an electrical plant supervisor. Wayne's out snorkeling with them now, as I use this brief time with a good connection to post this blog post up with a couple of photos. Klaus is a wonderful, outgoing gentleman with an endless sense of humor, a red beard, freckles, and a triangular tuft of hair crowning his head. He is very happy-go-lucky and he and Wayne are having a great time playing beach volley ball. Rachel is very tall, imposing, and intense. She is definitely the driver of the team. She was absolutely determined to sail all the way to the Maritimes, and so instead of taking the "easy" way like we did through the Erie Canal, they did the Welland and sailed all the way up and out. Wow! We enjoyed a lovely happy hour with them a couple of days ago and marveled at all the teak, the stained glass windows, and general "posh" down-below of their boat. In the meantime, we are dreaming about the possibility of trading up to a 40-foot trimaran. Not at all the same kind of boat, but more to our liking - a little funky but fast. We met another lovely couple in Norman's Cay - Fran and Mort aboard their 34-foot trimaran Alato. We have been thinking about it since, and yesterday they arrived in George Town! They lent us a book called "The Case for the Cruising Trimaran" and I think Wayne is hooked. Sounds great to me, now just how do we afford this? It pays to dream, and then act upon the dream, otherwise it may never happen. SO....we are slowly making inquiries. Another lovey couple we have met recently - Oliver and Pam from Toronto - invited us to stop by their 40-foot Beneteau last night (Dajarlo). Again we were impressed with the boat, but a monohull of that size is big and heavy with a 6-foot draft while a trimaran has daggerboards which can be lifted to create a 2.9 foot draft and can sneak into places no monohull could dream of. Pam and Oliver are just about the social center of George Town, and the nicest folks you could ever meet. Olli has a windsurfboard, mast and sail and told us we could use it any time. Wow, that really got us going, so tomorrow we hope to windsurf across the bay. What a life!

Exuma Life

2008-02-08T07:49:00.000-08:00

Life in the Exumas is usually gentle, mild, pleasant and fun. As a matter of fact, we may be having too much fun! The pictures above are from Warderick Wells, a park/nature preserve where boaters leave a piece of driftwood with their boat name on top of the highest hill, and Staniel Cay where we enjoyed outstanding hospitality. We'll post up pictures of George Town as soon as we have some! We've been SO busy just getting to know people and events. I have started to offer Pilates to the cruiser community twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I always have 15 or 20 people, and they rave about it. It is extraordinary to be able to do this on a gorgeous beach, and the positive karma it generates is indescribable. I have also been able to barter quite a bit of jewelry, and have had several commissions. I have created some unique earrings from the shells on the beaches on the ocean side of Stocking Island, and hope to bring back enough shells to make a bunch in Marquette. I'm learning to play bridge, and that's about all the time I have. Wayne and I run almost every morning on a gorgeous, deserted beach about 10-minutes away from where we are anchored, followed by a skinny little dip in the turquoise water. We have found some splendid, fragrant long-needled pine trees and after our run and splash Wayne works in small clay figures and I stretch, read, etc. The beaches in George Town are each given names for their primary activities: we are anchored near Hamburger beach as the Peace and Plenty (used to) operate a little lunch place there. The main activities including bridge, dominoes, basket weaving (really, no kidding on that one) and various other games are held on Volley Ball Beach. There is Sand Dollar beach where you can find lovely sand dollars, and a variety of other, smaller beaches. All of them offer gorgeous, soft pink sand and incredible views. Sometimes the hub-bub of Volley Ball Beach is too much for Wayne, and he spends an afternoon just hanging out on the boat. I usually make the 10-minute treck via dinghy to continue to learn how to play bridge and to pander my wares. It's SO FUN to have finally created a unique piece of jewelry of my own design, and I have offered my fellow cruisers the opportunity to bring me their shells for a pair of their own. Life is sweet here in the Bahamas, warm breezes, friendly people of all colors and languages, and the chance to create - learn - live - love - breathe - play - exercise - meditate - and create.

St Francis Superbowl Party

2008-02-04T07:30:00.000-08:00

We're out and about on foot in George Town after a fun-filled Super Bowl party at the St. Francis resort last night. What an exciting game. The mix of cruisers was great - Patriot fans, New York fans, Americans, Canadians, and folks from as far away as South Africa! Wouldn't you know that attempting to get into the dinghy for the ride home, Wayne lost his grip on the dock and I ended up in the drink. We got back no problem other than a salty, soggy girl with a moderately grumpy attitude. Today we are trying to get "stuff done" in George Town. Drinking water, gas for the dinghy, assorted groceries, a trip to the little library, and using the internet within a stone's throw of the antenna. The signal does reach out to the boat, but it is so weak it is just annoying. We hear it's nasty up north, and are so glad to be in the gentle trade winds and on the beautiful, sunny, pink-sand beaches of Stocking Island. Not much to say - the next month or so will be more of the same I am sure. There's never a lack of activities on the Volley Ball beach, and so my current project of learning to play bridge is only one of the attractions. I also have managed to barter some jewelry and start teaching pilates a couple days a week. Wayne is busy becoming a Volleyball expert, and learning to spear fish. It's a rough life, but someone has to do it...

Fun in the sun

2008-02-02T07:31:00.001-08:00

Staniel Cay was the most boater-friendly place in our trip down the Exuma chain – until George Town that is. We enjoyed a 2-hour service at the Baptist Church on Staniel, replete with much singing and fantastically dressed ladies in full millinery finery. Big ladies in bright colors and unthinkable hats dominated the small sanctuary, offering big hugs as well. Most of the service was spent singing hymns, followed by a fiery sermon from the preacher. Afterwards, we shifted gears (and clothing) and played our last game of tennis. We never got to dive the Thunderball cave, as the weather turned foul that afternoon. Monday morning we got up early and set sail for Cave Cay. Once there, we decided to take a marina one last time, and were the only boat at the extremely well-protected Cave Cay marina in the Exumas best natural hurricane hole. The marina is still largely under construction, but we managed to get a shower and do our laundry. We wanted to support them, as they are the most “green” marina in the Exumas, utilizing primarily solar power and growing their own vegetables. Tuesday early morning we took off for George Town on a nice east-northeast wind at about 15 knots. Our first challenge was the Cave Cay Cut – heading out into the ocean from the inside or “banks” side of the Exumas. The Cut is deep, not too wide, but neither is the boat. We made it no problem. After about 30 miles of big ocean sailing, we approached our second big challenge – the George Town Harbor entrance. It is surrounded by coral reefs and shallow shoals, and requires navigation of four reasonably exact legs to get safely in. We marshaled all our resources – GPS points, compass, charts, and written description of what to head for, and braved our way in. The written descriptions are the best: line up the Smith Cays with the houses on the highest hill behind them…head for Simon’s Point which has two highly visible pink houses…etc. We made it no problem, and dropped the anchor at monument beach amidst what has been called the largest floating trailer park on earth. There are literally hundreds of boats here! So far we have enjoyed a night out at Eddie’s Edgewater and dinner at the Peace and Plenty, a gorgeous pink sand beach for running which is usually entirely deserted, an introduction to what’s happening via the Cruiser’s Net (broadcast every morning at 8am on VHF 68) and an expedition to Volley Ball Beach. True to it’s name, Volley Ball Beach boasts sufficient facilities for 4 games of volleyball to take place simultaneously, as well as chairs and picnic tables for other activities. The Chat-n-chill bar and grill serves lunch and dinner as well as beverages. This is the epicenter of George Town Cruiser Life. I have started to learn how to play bridge in the afternoons, thanks to the willingness of Bill on “Nice and Easy” and his assistants. Wayne is not quite as interested in the social life, but plans on going to play some pick up games of volleyball. We’re also learning how to really relax now, knowing that for at least 6 weeks we don’t have to go anywhere else. Regrettably, internet is difficult – the sole provider of wi-fi lives in a small shack near the marina and his antenna is not extremely powerful. BUT, with persistence we can get a weak signal at the boat or just bite the bullet and go into town. Telephone service is unreliable and prohibitively expensive. But in some ways it’s just as well – learning how to relax involves being at peace with oneself and the world around you. The less you know about the world around you, the easier! Although our hearts and home are always in Marquette, our current world is that of sailboats, cruisers, sun and sea. What a delightful place to be. We are heading in to the little library this morning to check out some books on Bahamian history, and hope to come back not only having learned about the life of leisure, but also about the lovely people who live on these islands.

Made it!

2008-01-30T09:46:00.000-08:00

News Flash! We made it to Georgetown! Internet it not the best, but we'll post up more within the next few days. We're staying for at least a month!

beaches and braids in the bahamas

2008-01-26T12:45:00.000-08:00

We are enjoying a Saturday afternoon at the Staniel Cay yacht club after a rousing game of tennis and a walk around the island. The norther that was blowing last night settled down, and we managed to get off the boat around 1pm to dinghy into town. We went to the Island Store this time, having experienced both the pink and blue stores already. Grocery stores here are limited in what they carry - a selection of canned and dry goods = and a few frozen things. Bread is baked by local ladies and is white inevitably and kind of sweet but at least robust in texture. At the Island General Store we managed to find a whole chicken cut up into parts and frozen, which should help us subsist until Georgetown. Winds look favorable leaving Monday for Cave Cay and then Tuesday for Georgetown where we intend to be planted for 6 weeks or so. In the meantime, we plan to check out the church services tomorrow morning (baptist), have breakfast here at the yacht club, and dive in the fabulous Thunderball cave where the James Bond movie "Thunderball" was flimed. What a life but someone has to do it! We have heard that Claude has had some less than excellent weather in the Florida Keys, and that is in fact the usual January Thaw in the UP with temps in the 20's F. We are enjoying balmy 70-s 80-s and sometimes close to 90-s and in fact have absolutely nothing to complain about except that the cues at the pool table here are warped and the tips are loose. Other than that, very smooth sailing. Oh yes - the braids were a must in Nassau so that I don't have to do any hair anything for the next month. My daughters will be mortified, but they have managed to wear things that I wouldn't either...The beaches are just like this - beautiful little deserted areas where you can pull your dinghy up, do some yoga or pilates, and breathe LIFE!

Staniel Cay's Sweet Anchorage

2008-01-24T12:27:00.000-08:00

We spent yesterday in Warderick Wells nature park in a lovely crescent bay with mooring balls. We hiked the trails and dove on the reef, but did not see the preponderance of colorful fish we were expecting. We left there early this morning for Staniel Cay, one of the last legs to Georgetown. Although the marina and mooring facilities leave something to be desired, we are in a huge anchorage only a 10-minute dinghy ride away from town. Even the expensive huge motor yachts are in the anchorage, waiting for the next big norther to blow us into a frenzy. It seems the wind clocks around every few days to a big blow from the north, resulting in "roll-y" anchorages and current surge. The anchorage we are in is extremely protected, and we expect nothing of the type of bumpy nights we spent in Norman's Cay. All of these places deserve a much longer blog posting, but our internet time is limited. Suffice it to say that Norman's was a place out of time, ruins of it's glorious past with Kennedys and tennis stars long gone, and the huge money-machine of Carlos Leder's cocaine base. Warderick Wells is a nature-lover's paradise, but not a whole lot to do if you've seen it and you live in a place as beautiful as the UP. But Staniel Cay, now here's something totally different. We are sitting in the cute yacht club, drinking a Kalik and about to head into town for a bit of provisioning. There IS a small town here, the size of Ralph or something ( about 150 people) and a music scene. We are excited to finally get into Bahamas small-town life, and will load up pictures as soon as we have faster internet connection. To be sure, the prize looms close - Georgetown here we come.

Drug lords, Kennedys, and cold beer

2008-01-22T10:57:00.000-08:00

We made it to Norman's Cay and have just survived a big norther well stuck but bumpy. There is only one internet connection on the island at a lovely bar/restaurant called McDuff's so we are sharing and will have to make this quick. Tomorrow on to Warderick Wells, and then Staniel Cay where we'll wait out the next stretch of bad weather. Should be in Georgetown next week. More news when there's more time!

leaving Nassau, on to Norman

2008-01-17T21:19:00.000-08:00

what a great day! We played tennis on Paradise island and then went to the pool at Atlantis resort. Google it. It's beyond belief. After a great dinner at the Poop Deck here at the Nassau Yacht Harbor we went across the street for jazz night at the jambey cafe. Too many talented singers from around the globe include 3 beautiful young ladies from Montreal's Musical Theatre programme: Jasmine, Patricia and Flo. On to Norman Cay tomorrow to get a good hook and wait out the Norther that's coming. After that we'll head down to Georgetown finally for a month or so of going nowhere. Sounds great.

The Great Bahama Bank and the Tongue of the Ocean

2008-01-15T10:17:00.000-08:00

Here's Wayne at the tiller crossing the Tongue of the Ocean, and me sporting a Phil's 550 shirt on the beach at Whale Cay.
We arrived in Nassau yesterday, after about a week at sea. After checking in at Cat Cay, we sailed two days across the Great Bahama Bank to Chub Cay. The Bank is an extraordinary geographical phenomenon, a vast area of ocean only 10 to 15 feet deep, with beautiful white sand creating the most dazzling water color you've ever seen! The total distance was about 75 miles, so after a big 50-(nautical) mile day the first day we just threw out the anchor and hunkered down. It is, after all, the middle of the ocean so it was hardly what you would call a "calm" anchorage. It really wasn't too bad, considering how much better it was than the Gulf Stream crossing. You kind of get used to constant motion and clanking. The second day we had a favorable wind and Wayne had his finest sailing day in the Caribbean as we managed to sail to Chub Cay. There the development has focused exclusively on expensive power boats and fishing, we were not really welcomed on the island. We did anchor in front of a lovely beach (we were not allowed to use) and saw Paul and Becky and their daughters Maddie and Kelsey on Rio Dulce. We had met them in No Name just prior to the crossing. They are on a dreamy 40+ foot Catalana catamaran. Some day. Maybe. They convinced us to join them at Whale Cay the next day, a wholly deserted island. The entrance is marked by an abanoned light house, perched about an incredible white sugar sand beach with a little run-down palapa for shade. It was only about 8 miles from Chub, so we grabbed a bag of ice and sailed off to join them. We had a great day playing in the ocean with the girls, snorkeling, exploring, and hanging out in general. Just as the afternoon was winding to a close, we noticed a big truck on what we had thought was the unused road to the lighthouse. A guy got out, and came down to see us on the beach. He explained that he owned the island. Ooopppssss. Well, he wasn't too angry really, he just wanted to make sure we would not leave any trash. We assured him we would not, and after a big of a real estate conversation he took off again. Our lovely day ended with a move over to the other side of the channel in the lee of Bird Cay as the wind was predicted to change to the west. That it did, which made it perfect for our crossing to Nassau. We left Bird Cay by 7am, and made Nassau by noon or so - tired but happy. Apparently the Tongue of the Ocean is part of this last crossing - quite the reverse of the Bank, this is an incredibly DEEP part which can get super churned up on the wrong wind. In addition, it is considered a part of the Bermuda Triangle. Since I have recently mastered the new Garmin GPS, we had little fear as we set out. Waiting for the ideal wind seems to be the most intelligent thing a sailor can do in the Bahamas. This is, of course, the principle of parsimony. This would apply to the GPS as well. We still look over everything on the paper charts first, plot the course both ways, and look up a heck of a lot. But the bottom line is, sailing using the GPS is nothing like doing it "the old fashioned way" - which is what we have been doing to this point. It's so easy, it almost seems unreal. Ah well, thank goodness for the benefits of the GPS. Seemingly in order to balance out this new facility, the autohelm decided not to work any more, resulting in 100% hand-steering and another return to the stone age of sailing. No worries though, it's kind of fun!

Nassau is all new to us, so we'll be doing some exploring looking for local music and art. More on that tomorrow, with any luck.

In the Bahamas, Mon

2008-01-10T15:28:00.000-08:00

We made it! After a 10 hour crossing starting out in the pitch black in Miami's No Name Harbor, we crossed the Gulf Stream and made it to Gun Cay yesterday, where we anchored to recover. Wayne was heroic, I was nauseous. We lived. Today we are in the lovely Cat Cay Marina, tied up to a slip and loving life. It is BEAUTIFUL. Two days across the Grand Bahama Bank and we should be in Cubb Cay. From there Nassau and a few days later, Georgetown. We'll be back online in a week or so. LIFE IS GREAT!

Remembering 2007, going forward

2008-01-07T13:48:00.000-08:00

Before leaving the USA for a few months, we just wanted to re-cap the incredible couple of weeks we've had in Miami. The first picture is from the dinner before the big day, and prominently features Katherine Rayhorn. We were fortunate that Sarah's bff could join us in Miami for the whole event. She is a charming young lady, and welcome on the boat anytime too! The second picture is my lovely mother, Lydia with my son Thomas while we were waiting inline at the courthouse. The third is New Year's Eve and our cute and perky daugher Sarah. Then, that's my Cate and me getting ready to step out with Wayne.
What an incredible week and a great year.
The weather forecast is holding and we are in the final stages of preparation. Our cell phone is useless, our only way to stay in contact will be computer. We'll head to No Name Harbor tomorrow as planned, and cross on Wednesday. Our three-day weather window should get us to Chubb Cay, where we'll check in with customs and immigration. There is a specific procedure required, which includes flying a yellow "quarantine" flag until they check you out. Only the captain can go ashore until the paperwork gets started, so I should have plenty of time to read.

I played with the new GPS for a total of about 4 hours now, and it will be an extremely useful tool. We have charts galore and cruising guides and a full tank of diesel. We've got a plan. We've got the right weather. It's been a great trip and a great time in Miami, but now we are onto our ultimate dream destination!

Final Fiesta in the Grove

2008-01-06T11:29:00.000-08:00

Our weather window seems to be holding, so we are sticking to our plan to take off to No Name Harbor on Tuesday and start the Gulf Stream crossing about 4am Wednesday. Our new GPS works super well, and it will help significantly. All the training I did on Claude's Garmin certainly helped. The GPS unit itself has an extraordinary amount of map/chart data already programmed in, and I have learned how to program waypoints and routes. Sweet! We will take a practice run out the channel Tuesday during the daytime, verify all our coordinates, and then head out Wednesday. It is sunny and mild again here, perfect weather for running in the morning and amusing oneself in the afternoon. Last night we took the fun seriously and "did the town" We started at the Cafe Tu Tu Tango with tapas and sangria, then a walk around and a stop at the Ritz-Carlton for Mohitos. They had a very good "smooth jazz" saxophonist playing to a tune track. The lobby bar was dramatic, at least 2 stories high with huge marble pillars and an enormous window looking out upon a lit fountain. The server brought us a trefoil-shaped dish of lovely mixed nuts and we felt very chic. Next another lovely stroll to listen to a supposedly jazz band at Cristadelle's Quarters. This four-story New Orleans-style restaurant is never very full, and we cannot figure out how they stay open. Anyway, we listened to the band there for a while (it was the same one as two Saturdays ago) and shoved off for our last stop - our favorite Sand Bar. In contrast to the elegant places we had been before, the Sandbar was packed! They have a bunch of screens, and all were playing the Steelers/jaguars game last night. Honestly, the beer and football experiences have been the most fun. So, we wrapped up our last big night in Miami in style and today are charting, planning, and doing last-minute projects. Even though slightly daunting, the thought of finally crossing to the Bahamas is getting the energy going and we feel very good about it. Sadly, Claude may not make the crossing with us after all, but he has a grand tour of the Florida Cays planned, and I am sure he will have a blast.

The Waiting Game

2008-01-05T12:03:00.000-08:00

Here's Wayne waiting to leave for the crossing. Next picture is the lovely park where we run each day. Final picture is the Ritz-Carlton ballroom entryway. Coconut Grove is fabulous! Post-Christmas shopping is great, as anticipated. The weather is warming up again and our window to the Bahamas should be opening Wednesday early morning.

We went to Coral Gables last night to the First Friday Artwalk, but it was nothing like before. The city has unfortunately taken over the event, and transformed it from an elegant evening strolling between galleries, enjoying a little wine and cheese at each into a "fair" with vendors, etc. What a shame! We did enjoy one of the galleries particularly well. The owners are two charming French gentlemen who offer a variety of european and latin american art, with heavy emphasis on europe. They even had a Salvador Dali original ink/watercolor. They had a number of interesting sculptures, and Wayne was particularly interested in a Spanish sculptor's work in bronze . This sculptor, Carlos Mata, is one of just many vibrant modern artists they represent. You can see all kinds of exciting art at their website: www.patoufineart.com We wandered about for a brief while in other galleries until the rain came, and we took shelter in the trolley. The public transit here being excellent, we were able to take a free trolley to the train station, and then a local bus or "circulator" back to the Grove for 25 cents! We stopped in at Scotty's Landing again for dinner, as we figure on leaving pretty soon and are hoping to repeat our most enjoyable experiences before we go.

Tonight it's tapas at the Cafe Tu Tu Tango, tomorrow checking in with our new friends Wayne and Karen with any luck. Mostly we will be looking at charts, learning how to use the new GPS, and planning, listening to the weather, and feeling the good vibes (or not). Wayne's friend Bob Belanger was kind enough to lend us his Explorer charts, so we really have all the info we need to make the crossing. Wayne did this 10 or so years ago with Tim Preston, and they seemed perfectly capable with less info/technological tools than we have now. OK, that's another great story but you'll have to ask Wayne about it when we return or Tim about it if you see him. At any rate, after reading a bunch and listening to a bunch of stories, it all boils down to this: it's a 42-mile day sail. If you pick a good day, you're going to make it. We are not sure if Claude will join us after all, as he is leaning toward staying in the keys. Since our ultimate goal has always been Georgetown, we're in go mode.

Waiting for the Window

2008-01-02T11:41:00.001-08:00

We are back in Coconut Grove, in the final stages of preparation for crossing the Gulf Stream. Here, a "cold" front has moved in and the daytime temperature is only about 50 to 60 Fahrenheit. Of course this is laughable, given what our families returned to in the UP and Canada. I hate to say it, but it's almost a welcome break from the heat down here while we work to prepare the boat and ourselves. We were tickled to know that Claude will make the crossing with us after all, and the tremendous (or terrible) trio remains intact. He called to give his condolences to Wayne the day after we got married. I think in some way he could not believe it but...the pictures don't lie. Now all our energies are being redirected to boat projects and reading about the Bahamas. We did acquire a new GPS at West Marine and will be learning to use it as well. Life is calm back here, but the great tourbillion or whirlwind of kids and family are keenly missed by me. It is wonderful to keep in touch over the computer, but nothing beats just laying on the couch with the kids, watching tv. I have to admit, going to the Sandbar here in the Grove for their happy hour beer and nachos last night while watching the Rose Bowl was not all that torturous. It felt like getting back home in a way. To be sure, we could not have found a better place to be while waiting for the wind to calm down and shift to the south so we can undertake the "next phase". We missed our goal of Nassau by New Year's Eve, but could not have had a more wonderful time with Family in Miami.

Marriage Madness in Miami

2007-12-31T11:42:00.000-08:00

We did it! My lovely auntie Marianne took us to "Chef Allen" for an outrageous rehearsal dinner replete with bottles of Mumm's, exciting and unusual cuisine, and personalized menus. That's the first picture of us looking reasonably refined. Then, then next afternoon on the 27th, we drove to the Biscayne Boulevard Courthouse in north Miami and waited...on line...for about 20 minutes. We sat down at a little window, and the gentleman helping us was about the only thing that resembled our original plan - a rasta with waist-length dreads. He took the license we had obtained in Fernandina Beach, disappeared for a while, and came back and asked for $30. We wondered, is that it? Are we married now? All my family was in tow, and were equally dismayed to think that was the whole thing. But no! He laughed at us and said, "come with me to the marriage room". It was a cute litte room decorated with silk flowers to look like a little wedding place. They even had a fake flower bouquet for the bride to hold. He told us to look at eachother and take eachother's hands. Then he said the usual words. He was impressed that we had remembered to bring rings for eachother. It was very cute and sweet, and culminated in the joyful statement; "You may kiss the bride!" I threw the bouquet, my daughter Cate caught it, and the deal was done. More later, but we are now struggling to get on track to cross the gulf stream. In any case, HAPPY NEW YEAR from Wayne and Isabel Francis. May love, peace, and health fill the new year for all.

Merry Christmas from Paradise!

2007-12-24T11:15:00.000-08:00

Claude came to the Sailing Club this morning to continue preparations for the "crossing", and we thought we'd send a Christmas card to all of our blog readers the only way we know how...so...MERRY CHRISTMAS! We are preparing supplies, charts, cramming the boat full of as many canned goods, paper goods, and extra filters, etc. as we can. It is a monumental task but hey - if we run out, we'll just figure it out I'm sure. How bad can it be to be in the Bahamas?

We have enjoyed Coconut Grove even more these last few days - we found the clean and well-maintained public tennis courts, and Wayne has been trouncing me the past 2 days. It is embarrasing, as inevitably next to us are young people in the developmental mode of Venus and Serena, who smash the heck out of the ball. Still, it's fun to jog in the park, play tennis, stroll around the streets and enjoy the hospitality of the bar at the sailing club. We can only wish those of you in the north great skiing and snowboarding and happy trails for Cross-Country.

Claude's family is already here and mine arrives tomorrow so there is nothing more we could ask for this Christmas.

Bisous a tous - hugs for all -

Isabel, Wayne and Claude

Life on the Bay

2007-12-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

Life on Biscayne Bay is great. The first photo is the Sailing Club taken from the street side. The second are a couple of kids learning to sail at the Club. It's just such a great place. Regrettably, it is being threatened as a developer wants to tear it down and build a Cuban Restaurant. Sheesh. Of course I emailed the entire City Commission of Miami with a protest, but I doubt it will do any good. You never know though - I got an update regarding the North Carolina and Georgia stretches of the ICW. Those are the ones we had such trouble with as they have not been dredged for 2 years. Apparently funding was added in the last Federal spending bill, and the ICW should once again be possible for all boats with a 6-foot draw or less. People power!

We strolled to a great outdoor bar/restaurant last night called "Scotty's Landing". We had dolphin fish sandwiches and listened to a couple of guys playing live reggae. Inexpensive and great fun. Luckily, this establishment was running on Carribean Time when the bands play from 6 until 10pm and you can get to bed early. Our morning runs have become less horrible (we appear to be getting in shape again) and the parks are so beautiful. We also checked out the shops at the CocoWalk and happy hour at the Cafe TuTuTango. It's like a total vacation. Well almost - we also scrubbed the entire boat yesterday and took her for a pump out, but that's not really like work.

We are honestly thinking of everyone in the Great White North, but cannot say we'd like to be there with you. It is too incredible here, and a vacation from the vacation was certainly in order. The library will most likely be closed for the next few days, so if we don't get another chance to say it:

Peace, love, joy, and health to all of you in this holiday season and into the next year! Be well, be happy, you are in our thoughts.

put the lime in the coconut...

2007-12-20T12:45:00.000-08:00

OK, no -we have not had a chance to put the lime in the coconut yet. We are still loving it here! The days are warm and gentle, the nights cool and lovely. We had a chance to spend some time at the Clubhouse again last night, enjoying the company of Bill and several other members. The bartender, Lisa, is a talented flute player that - like many musicians - tends bar. She is a scrappy little thing who does not fear Mr. Bill Beavers either. Must have learned it from Debra Pepper. Our gorgeous friend Karen Stene is actually a former model (we should have known) and at an indeterminate age looks fantastic! Her husband Wayne Tepper is an optometrist with a great belly-laugh and a huge capacity for love and generosity. They have gone up north for Christmas (family) but we hope to see them when they return. Last night we met a couple of identical twins - Jim and John Adams. As with Wayne's sisters, they are both great-looking but it is not hard to tell them apart after a few minutes of conversation. They tend to cause quite a stir among the ladies at the club, being elegant and slim 50-ish gents, and confuse the heck out of the guys who have had a few more than usual. We also met a professional environmental activist-type guy from Illinois(?) named Sam. He seems to mostly just kayak around while here in Miami. He is here visiting a buddy named David (also from Illinois) who does sailboat charters. David looks like he needs to get out of the fast lane and spend some time on a kayak but maybe he was just tired that night. Stuff is just going on all the time here - live music, fab food, nightlife, etc. Too bad our bodies have not yet been able to make the adjustment to staying awake much past 9pm. We'll practice up for the next few days in anticipation of the arrival of the kids who will for SURE want to sample the Miami nightlife. The big day? The 27th. Nobody has backed out yet...We'll keep you posted.

Coconut Grove: that's a royer

2007-12-19T08:25:00.000-08:00

See the big smiles on the faces in the first picture. That's us (still on the boat) as we sail into the entrance channel for the Coconut Grove Sailing Club. The next picture is a little boutique in the hip/funky/slick Coconut Grove shopping district. The last picture was provided by Doug - what he saw on arrival back in Canada. I am sure the UP looks very similar. You don't have to guess why we are smiling.

Our last day sans Doug was a challenge for Claude, as he not only had to do all the driving but all the talking to the bridge tenders as well. We knew we were in Miami about half-way through, when one of the bridge operators - in replying to my identification of our boat - said, "that's a royer". That's a royer...hmmm...oh yeah - "That's a Roger" in spanglish. Between Claude's delightful French accent and the bridge tender's pronounced Spanish accent, we could only imagine what fun they had communicating! At any rate, the nice bridge tender told us to stay about 200 yards away from the bridge due to strong current. He was right, and when we were able to go through about 15 minutes later, we were suddenly swept up into a nice rush of current which carried us swiftly - about 6 1/2 knots - to any number of the remaining bridges. We anchored outside the Miami Yacht Club at first- just near the Government Cut - but re-anchored elsewhere later so that we could dinghy to a grocery store. It was blowing quite a bit, the current swift, and the wind was due to switch in the middle of the night. Claude put out a second anchor - so did we. The next morning, Wayne tried to lift the second anchor. No luck. It was stuck. Or the line was stuck. Something was stuck. Claude and Wayne took the dinghy to explore. No luck. We had to cast off our primary anchor and tie it to a fender so the line would float. Claude climbed aboard, and used Cassie's big diesel to try to unstick the anchor. He got us moving, but both guys realized the anchor was not stuck - the line was wrapped around something mighty heavy! Claude went back to Merope to tie the boats together just as Wayne dove to check out the situation. Wayne was so excited to be able to free the anchor line that he unwrapped it and surfaced - just as Claude was trying to throw me the line from Merope. Now it's better but Cassie is basically just floating free. Wayne says, "start the engine!", Claude jumps in the dinghy, speeds over to Cassie carefully avoiding Wayne who is still in the water, leaps onboard and takes the tiller. Boy I never saw Claude move so quick! We take Cassie back to the first anchor, pick up the line, and secure her. Then the guys pick up the second anchor, bring it on board, and life is back to manageable. Wayne gets on Merope to muscle Claude's auxilliary anchor onboard ( both of them hoping it's not wrapped around another monolith) and success! Wayne's back on Cassie, Claude's anchor winch works perfectly and we are off for the 6 or 7 mile trip to Coconut Grove. It rains along the way but WHO CARES? We get there just as the sun is peeking through and are greeted by Claude's utterly charming brother-in-law, Bill. Bill is recovering from a knee replacement, and is still in painful rehab. He discovered he was allergic to Codeine (always a bad thing to discover in the hospital) but thank goodness is still able to drink beer. So, we all sat down to a real Coconut Grove Sailing Club welcome over many, many beers. We met so many fascinating people I cannot do them all justice in this long entry, so I'll start with Bill. He is a mighty sailor, having sailed his boat Finesse (Tartan 30 I think) in myriad races from Miami to Bimini and many, many others. He speaks with a prounounced West Virginia accent and an extraordinary command of English vocabulary. He speaks like a gentleman, and is very fun to listen to. He has the usual assorted salty stories to tell, but more than that he offers genteel opinions in silver tones reminiscent of the State of Virginia Attorney General of our Solomon's Island blog. I am mesmerised listening to him speak, it's just so fun, and the beers are starting to take hold. His nemesis is a fiery little Canadian lady aptly named Pepper. She has sailed with him many years and is a mighty sailor herself. She has piercing blue eyes and a mane of blond hair, some short shorts and a great laugh. Pepper and Bill get into it about any number of things, and the action heats up. Other Club members come to join us, and join in the fun! Among them were the incredibly gorgeous Karen Stene and her cuddly teddy-bear husband Dr. Wayne Tepper (more on them later). Canadians are not in short supply at the CGSC, and the discussion heats up nicely. The afternoon simmers down, and we trundle off to Cassiopeia, nicely moored a stone's throw away from the dinghy dock. What a great arrival.

Vero to Coconut Grove: part I

2007-12-18T13:30:00.000-08:00

The best news in Vero Beach (other than the arrival of Celeste) was the arrival of Claude's "muffler". Here is his, proudly holding up the one he cobbled together in Oriental, NC. Yes, the darn thing worked since then! Claude got the actual correct part, installed it, and we were off for 5 big days. Here is Doug in Vero as well, just before leaving. He should have stayed with us, as he went home to a blizzard in Canda, but that's another story. The third picture is Merope in the rainy weather we were encountering on the way. Miami looms in the background, and we are getting there!

From Vero Beach we put in a 40-plus mile day to stop in Hobe Sound. This was one of those anchorages where you just pull off a bit to the West, throw out the anchor, and stop for the night. We had a long discussion about going "outside" to avoid the 38 bridges or so between Hobe Sound and Miami. The bottom line was we did not have the stuff. Claude had nice charts (paper) and of course complete charts on the computer, and also had a great GPS unit. We still cannot use our GPS as the sole source of navigation, and do not have a complete set of charts. I thought that perhaps we could make the overnight run outside if we borrowed Claude's charts, but then he rightly refused because then HE would not have any backup way to navigate. Add to that the huge container ships and cruise ships we would be likely to encounter in the dark, and a less than perfect weather window, and we decided to stay inside and brave the bridges.

The next day we went all the way to Lantana, where a bridge was our undoing. Waiting for the Lantana Bridge, Wayne shifted into neutral. When he tried to shift back into forward, the cable snapped and we were adrift. I steered over to the side, he threw out the anchor and we let the bridge tender know we would have to wait for the next opening, a half-hour later, due to technical problems. Wayne figured correctly that he could shift into forward manually, so we managed to get through the bridge 30 minutes later and pull into the anchorage. Whew! About an hour and several phone calls later, we miraculously found a place in the Lauderdale area which had the appropriate cable and a salesman who was so nice, he said he would drive it to us after work. This is a plug for Boat Owner's Warehouse and a guy named Jeff who was an outstanding guy. We said we would meet him at the "Old Key Lime House" restaurant, luckily a famous restaurant in the Lantana area. He got there around 7pm and would not let us buy him a beer but we gave him $10 and he graciously accepted. The next morning, Claude and Wayne installed the new cable and we were off again by 9am. Oh, did I mention that Doug, that GREAT GUY, picked up dinner for us all at the Old Key Lime House in celebration/mourning of his impending departure? What a guy!

We really needed that cable, as from Lantana to Fort Lauderdale there were about 15 bridges to go through. We miraculously timed them quite well, but it required Merope to run full-blast quite a bit. We anchored up a little river in the Lauderdale area, and were surrounded by Claude and Doug's compatriots. Truth, we were the ONLY American boat at the anchorage! A discussion of the cultural aspects of the prevalence of Canadians making the trip down the ICW bears examination, however that will have to wait for a moment. It is interesting, however, to note that young French Canadians with kids and dogs and the whole shooting match somehow manage to acquire great sailboats and make the journey. The Canadians are doing something right!

We left Doug on a street corner in Fort Lauderdale and went on our way to Miami. He cried and said he did not know how he was going to survive being separated from Claude again. (OK, I made that part up but it sounds like a great movie scene). Doug did send us a great shot of a 5-foot snowbank right outside his house upon returning to Canada. It's great to be in Florida. Here ends part one, with Merope and Cassiopeia about to arrive in the magical destination - Miami. More on that tomorrow.

Heavenly Celeste

2007-12-10T08:23:00.000-08:00

I thought I would take this opportunity to post a picture of Celeste! She has been a sweet and bubbly addition to our gang of boat mongrels, always excited and upbeat. Her enthusiasm for the beach was not diminished at all by the red tide, and her parents will have a devil of a time trying to avoid it. She and I played cards at anchor in the swamps of Georgia and discussed things that are of great importance to 9-year olds. This is far less taxing than editing college-level political science papers. It is always uplifting to see her cute little smile and touseled hair. She is like the Energizer Bunny - in constant motion and near-constant sound. Although captivating, I am now enjoying the benefits of being able to say, "I'm sorry I have to go, sweetie" and hand her back over to her folks. They really have to be slightly crazy to live on a sailboat with a small child. Dogs, children, and the like are too challenging on boats for my taste.

Boyz in the Hood

2007-12-10T07:51:00.000-08:00

Here are the "boys" peering out of the cockpit of Claude's boat, Merope. We had such fun last night at a local bar/restaurant called "The Riverfront Cafe". We took Doug out in the afternoon (via dinghy) to watch the Packers and the Lions play, and then returned a bit later in the evening to watch the Patriots/Steelers game. After the game, a band consisting of two guys, started to play. The guitar player resembled local rock legend and sprinkler king Tim Preston. The other guy was a large gentleman wearing bib overalls and a rasta beret, playing a washtub string bass. For real. He had a metal washtub on the floor, to which a single "string" or metal cable, was attached at one end. The other end was attached to what looked like a cut-off broom handle. The sound it made was unbelievably fun and amazingly in tune or on key. I could not help but dance, and Wayne and I had a great time doing our crazy jitterbug/swing/free form dance styling. Not ready for "Dancing with the Stars" but a good time. Everyone was having such fun! I even got Doug to take a turn on the floor with me. We hope this will not aggravate his back, but at the time he thought it was well worth it. Just as we were about to call it a night, Sue and Brian from Sogno appeared. We had originally spied them in the swamps of Georgia - Kilkenny to be exact. We hooked up in Fernandina at the Palace one night, and were pleased to see them again here in Vero Beach. It was Brian's birthday, which gave us a good reason to stay for a little while. More fun, more boat discussions, but no more beer as we are learning to pace ourselves. As a result, this morning was not nearly as painful as usual after a fun night out.

The best news yesterday was the sighting of our friends aboard Grayling. They're here! They had actually gone a bit further than Fernandina Beach (not the original plan) and then spent 5 days in Titusville trying to catch the space shuttle launch. It never went, but neither did they. Little Celeste popped right up into the cockpit to greet us, and a happy reunion took place. She is excited to be somewhere she can walk to the beach. We warned her about the red tide, giving me an opportunity to "google" it and a learning occasion for all. Hopefully the red tide will have abated today. The foot gave me no trouble dancing last night, so Wayne and I are about to test drive it on a gentle jog. My sanity may be restored yet.

Claude is waiting for the arrival of parts today, and we intend to take off tomorrow. In a couple or three days we expect to be in Lantana Beach, and in Miami within the week. It will be good to STOP for a little while. We are enjoying making new friends, reuniting with others we have seen along the way, and discovering new towns and anchorages. Vero Beach has been particularly user-friendly, but our ultimate destination is still some distance away.

The internet surely keeps us connected in ways one would never dream of ten years ago. This has it's good and less than perfect aspects. We loving hearing from people at home and knowing about friends and family. Last night, however, I committed myself to an action I thought i was done with - the editing of college papers. My daughter Catherine is slogging through finals at the University of Michigan. Dumb me, I reminded her that I had a degree in political science and I think I even offered to help edit her final paper. It took about 2 hours this morning to read, edit, and re-send this paper back to her. I have encouraged her to take science instead ( anatomy, physiology, biology, chemistry). This is a good possibility as she is considering declaring as a pre-med major. Hopefully that will launch her into a wonderful career field and eliminate the need for editing of papers!

Boat life is a great metaphor for humankind. Boaters are committed to a lifestyle which encourages, and almost requires maximum cooperation. If you are having a problem of any kind, there is always someone around who offers to help in any way. Yesterday the free bus service was not running, and Wayne needed to go to the Napa store to get oil and filters for the maintenance he is doing today. A nice guy that was just hanging around at the dock said, "I'll run you there". This nice young man lives in Vero and slips his sailboat at the municipal marina. He was just out for a little Sunday on the boat, when he offered to take the time out to give Wayne a ride to the store. Claude is forever helping us with our mechanical issues, while we are always happy to run to the grocery store for him. People from all over the US and Canada meet and make friends. This morning, little Celeste met another little girl who speaks nothing but French. What a great way for the two of them to learn about eachother's language and culture. The basic culture of a live-aboard child is the same no matter where they come from. From frustration with home-schooling to the boredom of being boat-bound kids are endlessly creating things to do. Similarly, those of us who have succumbed to the temptation that this kind of voyage offers have the opportunity to endlessly re-create ourselves based upon the locale and the collection of boaters present. That said, the basic tenets never change: we all have to respond to the challenges of weather and wind - and it is in our best collective interest to look out for eachother. If only we could apply this model worldwide, we might be able to solve some of our most basic problems.

The hidden (almost) terrors of Florida...

2007-12-09T05:38:00.000-08:00

Don't let this idyllic sunset in Dragon Bay fool you: Florida has it's own ways of tormenting humans. Lest one think this is a complaint let me preface this entry with the statement that the abnormally beautiful weather here makes up for everything else. BUT, there are two pests that presently are affecting all of us. The first is the dreaded no-see-um. These little critters are worse than mosquitos! They are practically invisible, no larger than the point of a fine-lead mechanical pencil. They are able to fly through our netting that would catch larger insects, and come in at night to feed. They bite. It is a little tiny bite, but a bite no less. It itches and wakes one up from what would otherwise be a blissful sleep. We have taken to spraying the nets with anti-bug stuff, but these guys are persistent. The other phenomenon is the "red tide". This is an algae which floats in at times and causes humans to cough and eyes to itch. Regrettably, just when Wayne's sister Jean came yesterday to enjoy a walk on the beach, the beach was not friendly. As soon as we jumped out of the car to see the beautiful Atlantic, Jean's husband Vic and I started to cough. Strange. We walked into the restaurant where they were kind enough to treat us to lunch, still coughing. The hostess explained the red tide had come in that day, and EVERYONE was coughing. Our plans to dine on the balcony overlooking the sea were dashed as the restaurant had closed up the balcony due to the irritants in the air. We had a lovely lunch, and bold Jean and Wayne decided to take a brief walk on the beach anyway. No picture could do justice to the sight of this brother and sister walking gently along the beach, surf pounding, conversing quietly. In sum, although the forces of nature conspire to remind us that life is not perfect, it is in fact not bad.

Vero Beach update

2007-12-08T06:59:00.000-08:00

We continued to make good progress at 30+ miles a day until we arrived at Vero Beach yesterday. The weather is so lovely, it is practically unbelievable. I asked the gentleman at the dock whether it was a particularly nice day for November on arrival. He said no, this is pretty normal. Wow! It's between 70 and 80 degrees, with a gentle breeze and a few feathery clouds drifting by. Wayne's sister Jean is driving from Orlando to meet us here today, and Claude has already met up with friends of his who did the journey with him 10 years ago. There is no free wifi and the library is far away, so I bit the bullet and signed up for 24 hours access for 8 bucks. Sometimes you just have to do it. We hope to spend today and tomorrow here in Vero Beach prior to moving on again. The 30 to 35 mile days are not horrible, but a little fun now and then really breaks up the "work".

Delightful Doug!

2007-12-06T12:09:00.000-08:00

We have been going like gangbusters since the arrival of Claude's sailing buddy, Doug. We have made it to a little town of some sort called Satellite Beach, half way between Titusville and Vero Beach. We are taking advantage of favorable winds and currents when we can, and so pushed on from Titusville even though there was a space launch scheduled for today. With the goal of Miami firmly in mind, however, it is imperative that we go when the going is good. Doug is the perfect foil to Claude's convivial French flair. He is wonderfully dignified and slightly reserved. Of course if you come from Canada, he speaks like everyone else...however if you come from our neck of the woods his charming Canadien accent appears just when you would expect it...as in "out" and "about", etc. Like "Fargo". It's too cool. We have enjoyed getting to know him and Claude has certainly enjoyed having a helping hand. We are making good progress, and the warmth and sunshine keeps us going with much more enthusiam than the cold swamps of Georgia. The waters are much easier to navigate here as well. While we had to travel a dozen miles sideways just to make six in Georgia, we basically get up every morning and point the boat south. Then we go south for about 30 or 40 miles, and stop. In sum, every mile is STRAIGHT SOUTH!!! This is the first time we can go directly south in a straight line since Norfolk. This aspect, along with the gradually warmer weather, provides encouragement to all. There is only one worrisome spot: we have lost track of some friends. I mentioned the boat Grayling before, with it's Captain Chris, First Mate Nichole and their charming daughter Celeste. They were kind enough to give us something to eat during our worst time, and we were on the same track for Fernandina Beach. The last we saw of them was at the Jekyll Island marina, then they "poofed". They were having some boat troubles, but it would seem logical (since they left just before us from Jekyll Island) that we would have seen them along the way somewhere. I hope that we will run into them soon and be able to report they are well. Any number of things can happen to boats and boaters, and we have learned to look out for eachother.

One of the most uplifting things about this part of the voyage are the dolphins! Our first sighting, as you may recall, was in Mobjack Bay all the way up in the Chesapeake. Now we see them daily. Today as we were sailing under one large bridge, a trio of dolphins appeared off our bow. They swam right up to us, then performed several daring gymnastics in unison just like a group of sychronized swimmers. It was absolutely thrilling! At our little anchorage here at "Dragon Point" we were also greeted with a number of these lovely sea animals. For those wretches like myself that have been taken in by the Illuminatus trilogy, it makes one think of Hagbard Celine and his dolphin allies. They are incredibly smart, playful and fun to watch. Wish we could just talk to them...

Swamps of Georgia to St. Augustine

2007-12-02T07:00:00.000-08:00

I thought I would share a picture of the Kilkenny marina with everyone, which is the top one. Beautiful live oaks dripping with Spanish moss, but not much else there. The next shot is one Wayne took in Fernandina beach of the persistent pelicans at the waterfront. Last shot is a narrow street scene in St. Augustine, the "oldest continually occupied european settlement in North America". Founded by Senor Pedro Menendez de Avila in 1565, this beautiful waterfront town has become a real tourist mecca. Charming anyway. We arrived to a crowded anchorage, and were guided into our current spot by a St. Augustine live-aboard named Rudolph. He is actually from Belize and had been stranded on his boat for two weeks due to lack of a dinghy. Whatever. We brought him over some food and a couple beers last night, and gave him a ride into town this morning. In exchange, this nice man who happens to be a diver is going to install a zinc anode on the prop shaft for us to prevent the shaft and propeller from corroding in the salt water. Thank goodness Claude told us about this! Great Lakes sailing requires no such device. The powerful negative electrical charge produced by the sodium cations in the water discharges into the metal of the shaft, unless a zinc anode is present to absorb the charge. Chemistry/physics lesson for the day. Lesson to the world: positive karma flows from all good actions. We had not idea about this anode business until this morning. When we mentioned it to Rudolph, he offered to get on his dive gear and install this for us at no charge. Boating is an undertaking that is full of opportunities to generate positive karma. As the Christmas season is upon us, we feel the true meaning of the season is most meaningfully illustrated by this kind of energy flow. As my son would say, "namaste".

Brett goes down! So do we!

2007-11-30T13:52:00.000-08:00

We were once again at the Palace in Fernandina Beach last night as they were the only bar in town to have the Packers/Cowboys game on tv. Claude joined us for a while, but being an intelligent human being he left after the first half. Meanwhile, the bar got smokier and smokier and we were suffering from smoke inhalation, but persisted. Just after the start of the second half we met some nice gentlemen from Atlanta who were curious about our adventure. They offered to buy us a "Pirate Punch", so naturally we accepted. We chatted some more. They insisted on buying us another Pirate Punch. Whoa. We figured we would be fogged in this morning so we stayed until the end of the game and took them up on their kind offer. We watched as Brett Farve, our hero, was injured and removed himself from the game. His young replacement tried valiantly, but the nasty Cowboys went on to win the game. Poor Brett! We got back to the boat around midnight ( or a little later) and then next thing it is 7 am and we are NOT fogged in. We called Claude on the VHS and he was ready to get going. A quick cup of coffee later and we are flogging ourselves to get on the trail. The weather was not bad - cool and cloudy but not much wind and the current was going our way. We arrived in Jacksonville Beach exhausted but alive and well. Wayne is still napping! The great news is that Claude's friend Doug has arrived in the USA and is at this very moment driving up from Fort Lauderdale. What a guy! He will join us around 8pm tonight, and off we go for St. Augustine tomorrow. The pictures have nothing to do with this post, really, except that I love the one of the shrimp boat that looks like it is about to eat Cassie. Yes, that's Cassie at anchor at Hilton Head with an incoming shrimp boat behind her. The other one is from our little private beach in the Georgia swamp. We'll get some Florida pictures to share with you once Doug gets here, so everyone can get at look at our new foursome.

Connecting with Quebec!

2007-11-29T07:32:00.000-08:00

We are happily in Fernandina Beach, expecting to watch the Packers/Cowboys game somehow. Hopefully Claude's friend Doug will join us in Jacksonville Beach. Doug: Claude would like me to ask you to be sure to bring your laptop and GPS. Cathy: Thanks for the comment! If you have the email address of Doug - can you email it to my gmail? OK, it's true we are developing a serious network of lovely Canadian friends. Last night we met Guy and Micheline aboard Pegasus. They may be waiting for us when we get to St. Augustine. If Doug can join us as well, we would be a multi-lingual troupe of 6. What fun it is to meet so many new and interesting people and share the voyage. Yes, I used the "f" word. Fun. It's starting to be fun again. The bad weather that rocked us at anchor 2 nights ago blew over, the fog lifted this morning to brilliant sunshine. We are wearing shorts and loving it. The picture of Wayne was taken in Georgia at one of our swamp stops. We spied a teeny, tiny, bit of sand amid the marsh weeds, with a lone palm tree. Of course, we got in the dinghy and pretended that we were at the beach. Now, Wayne can actually walk to a real beach. There is a phenomenal tennis facility here, but unfortunately I still can't really walk too far, never mind play tennis so I'm hoping he'll find a partner. He does not seem too unhappy about it though, since we have re-emerged into civilization we have all been feeling better. Claude's fuel filter part should be here this afternoon, and we will probably take off again tomorrow morning for the 2-day trip to Jacksonville Beach. From there another couple of decent weather days and we could make it to St. Augustine. It's amazing what some good weather and a cute little town can do for the drooping spirits of water-weary sailors.

Fabulous Fernandina - we are in Florida!

2007-11-28T09:03:00.000-08:00

I could not be any happier than to be sitting in the incredibly friendly public library in Fernandina Beach, Florida! We were able to leave Jekyll Island yesterday on a warm and breezy 5 to 10 knot NE wind and make both the St. Andrews Sound and the Cumberland Sound with no trouble. Last night was rough at anchor, but hey, who cares, we are in Florida now! We took a mooring ball and Claude a slip at the marina as he will be engaged in engine maintenance the better part of the day - changing fuel filters and fuel pump - and we will be playing. Yes, playing! Fernandina Beach's primary employer is probably the large and fragrant paper mill just to the south of where we are moored. As long as the wind continues to blow from the north, no problem! If it blows too strongly we will have to think cautiously about where we are going tomorrow, but we hope to start journeying southward again then - provided engine maintenance is successful. We are experiencing a continuing issue with our glow plugs not receiving enough power at times to engage. This electrical quirk is concerning, but probably not life threatening since Claude removed the "bad" wires. As for the town, it is extremely cute, very touristy, caters to tourists. It has a great history as a former pirate enclave (no joke!) and has the distinction of having had the most flags flown claiming ownership of any location in the US (eight!). From the Spanish to the French, British, back to Spain, various pirates, the US, Mexico, and then finally again the US. Last night we stopped in at a saloon called "the Palace", built in 1878. It claims to be the oldest saloon in Florida continuously operating the in same location. It's pressed tin ceilings and magnificent wood carvings reminded me of some of the finer places in Marquette! We encountered the crew of the sailing vessel Sogno there, Brian and Sue, who hail from Mahhhblehead, Mass. (Marblehead is quite the ritzy address) They were so friendly, so willing to share advetures with us, that we stayed and chatted until sunset when Wayne remembered we would have to dinghy back and find the boat about 1/2 mile out in a river anchorage close to town. We found her, but in the nick of time, as it got dark moments after we got onto the boat and nobody had their masthead lights on yet. I did not have the change to ask Brian about his past life as a landlubber, but Sue explained she had been in Information Technology for all of her career, the had no kids, and so she was able to retire at 48 and start cruising full-time. Wow. Of course I would NOT trade my incredibly wonderful children for anything and I am at 48 living the cruising life, but I will certainly have to go back to work upon return. Ah, I miss them and will be so happy to see them again. At any rate, life is sure looking up. There are challenging stretches ahead on the ICW, and I read the internet updates frequently (causing Claude to laugh at me because he says as long as you stay in the middle of the channel you'll be alright...) Well, I just read that at mile 803.1 (the ICW is measured in "regular" or statute miles) there is a shoal encroaching on the starboard quarter into the midline of the channel which stopped a friend of ours dead and he ran HARD aground while in the middle of the channel. His, and other experiences with this hazard were posted on the CruisersNet website that I read as often as possible. This nice gentleman and excellent sailor, Jeff Bacon aboard Manatee (a beautiful Beneteau if I remember correctly) said that the force of the impact threw him out of his seat hehind the wheel and propelled him through the air into the forward portion of the cockpit. OK, that kind of action is not for me, so I am going to stay to port at mile 803.1 for sure. I am going to continue to neurotically read and note these updates, and stress about running aground (and other hazards) until we actually make it to Miami. Then, a whole different set of neuroses can be substituted for the present ones...but the best news is it looks like we are going to make it!

The end of the fun and games...but Florida is in sight.

2007-11-26T13:02:00.000-08:00

We made it. Whew. We are in (on?) Jeckyll Island, Georgia. More specifically, we are tied up to the dock at the Jeckyll Island Marina, about to get some groceries. The wifi is weak, so sorry about no picture this time. But here's the word. After Charleston, our first day took us to Tom Point Creek. I think. The creeks are little creeks, just like you might imagine, surrounded by marshland. Or basically, just cutting through endless marshland. No trees. No buildings. No anything. Just a little swatch of water bisecting an endless area of what some might call swamp. We throw the anchor out and tell ourselves it was a good 25 miles! We will get up again and do it tomorrow if we can. After that, we navigated some of the nastiest shoal areas in Georgia, paying close attention to the nine foot tide (!) and timing our departure so that there might be sufficient water not to run aground in these treacherous areas. See the previous complaint about lack of US Army Corps of Engineers personnel thanks to war in Iraq = no dredging. From Tom Point Creek we got to Bass Creek. Repeat above description. From Bass Creek we got all the way to Skull Creek. Now this was actually great, as there was a marina we could dinghy to a little ways off. We did so, and found out we were at Hilton Head. We took a nice long walk. Heaven. OK, back on the boat in the morning, and our motor won't start properly. The preheat (glow plugs) function will not engage. Claude has a look at our electrical as I have a feeling this may be due to a short. YIKES!!! There is a burned out live wire which was inappropriately attached to the fuel line. The what? The fuel line? What kind of idiot would attach an electrical wire to the fuel line? Claude wants to KNOW~! Wayne says, well the guy who put the engine in I guess....Wayne won't let me identify the business entity responsible for the engine installation, but perhaps it could have been done differently. We have dodged the bullet here. Claude pulls a bunch of wires, gets us out of immediate danger, but there is much to be done yet. At least the boat won't burn due to a spark from a corroded, live wire attached to the gas line. Merci, Claude. Next day we are on the trail again, to the Wright River. Throw out anchor. Read. Repeat. Next day on the trail to Kilkenny Creek. This is the day before Thanksgiving. There is a marina at Kilkenny Creek! We are so excited to be pulling into range of civilization that I am distractedly jumping around on the boat and SMASH my foot. Nice gouge. Luckily, the resident RN stopped the bleeding, cleaned it and put on a good bandage. That will take a while to heal, but whatever. We try to figure out where the marina is, and decide it is probably the long dock with several boats tied up. We try to call on the radio, but no one answers. Just as we are going for it ourselves, a guy who looks like he walked straight out of "Deliverance" saunters out of the "marina" office and says, "bring 'er on in...". I say thanks and throw him the bow dockline because jumping out of the boat onto the dock with this foot is a really, really bad idea. The marina office sells groceries. Cans of "Beenie Weenie", cans of cocktail franks, cans of boiled peanuts, Dinty Moore beef stew in individualized portions. Pop. Beer. Chips and candy. That's it. There is a God and there is a restaurant within hobbling distance, so Wayne, Claude and I have a pre-turkey day decent dinner. Nice food. Regrettably it gives Claude serious indigestion and keeps him up all night. We try to take off the next day (Thanksgiving) but the Sound is all whipped up and we are DENIED. The dinghy tries to fly off the boat. We are NOT losing another dinghy, so we turn around with our tails between our legs and head back to the safety of Kilkenny Creek. Thanksgiving dinner is macaroni and cheese. It tastes REAL GOOD after that experience. OK, next day is nice and we make it to Wahoo River. See description for creeks. Repeat. We think we are going to make progress the next day, but again, we get to the first Sound and it cannot be crossed due to waves, wind, and weather. Back to the anchorage. We meet up with our friends on Grayling, another sailboat, at the anchorage who are taking refuge there as well. They are kind enough to turf off some pre-prepared Indian food to us as we are basically out. Lovely lentils and potato stew. Actually we still have some rice, black beans, and corn so we keep the Indian food for...tomorrow. OK, the next day we get up at the break of dawn, no not even. It is 5 am and we are up. We need to leave at first light to make the Sound before the wind whips it into a frenzy. The tide runs 9 feet high. It is high tide. You can't even see the land bordering the river, it is submerged. Claude gets us out using his GPS coordinates, running blind. We all have our depth sounders on, and believe in the Claude. He gets us out into the Sound, and now we are screaming across with wind at the back and that 9 foot tide rushing in to push us down. 8 knots. Get us the hell out of here! We flew all the way (well of course not really flying but going fast any way) and we are making time when Claude's motor starts acting weird. OK, pull in. We literally pull off the ICW into a creek, throw the anchor down, and we are done by 1pm because of engine trouble. Claude changes his oil filter and thinks it's going to be ok the next day. We are in debt to Chris, Nicole and Celeste on Grayling because had they not given us the Lentil Stew we would not be eating tonight. Next morning we are ready to take off by 8am. Nope. Fog. It's supposed to lift by 9am. Nope. 10 am? Nope. 10:30 comes and now we are beginning to see. We NEED to get to Jeckyll Island because there is precious little left. No bread. No meat. No cheese. No vegetables. No fruit. OK, we could survive by eating rice, but we are spoiled Americans and have generally not had to do this in our lives. We get about 2 miles, and it's too foggy to continue. Claude tosses in his anchor, we raft up (we hope we are out of the channel) and wait. He has to re-do his GPS waypoints because they did not all transfer. As soon as he is done, we notice we are dragging anchor. Right into the channel! The fog has lifted sufficiently to get going, so we untie quickly and get GOING. by 2pm we make it to Jeckyll Island where the first thing that happens is we see a guy we met in Annapolis. Well technically, we met him at anchor just before Annapolis in front of Cantrell's Crab House. He works at this marina when he wants to. He had given me a discount card this summer which I actually kept and found. The guy is astonished. We get a discount on our stay here and a shower. Immediately. Have not had a shower since Charleston. Don't even know how long ago that was, but about a week. Have not bought groceries since Charleston. No internet since Charleston. Cell phone battery dead, can only use it when hooked up to the boat battery via the "car" charger. I am sitting here clean, and on my beloved computer. We will go grocery shopping soon. My foot is healing. No tennis or running for another while yet, but the smash is clean and healing well. I need some bandages and tape, but there is a pharmacy here too. Incredible. Life is getting much better. We are most thankful this Thanksgiving season for our friendship with Claude, his great help, knowing that our families are safe and well, and that we have re-entered civilization at the present moment. Who knows what the next day will bring? As we leave here, we will enter St. Andrew's Sound, one of the "four most dangerous bodies of water on the ICW". Luckily we have already done the other three. We are NOT going out if it is not just right. We will wait it out here until we get a good weather window - favorable winds, no fog, little waves and just the ride tide. At least we are somewhere, not in the middle of the marsh. I would stay here for a week if I could, just to have some fun. But, we are trying to get somewhere so that's quite unlikely. It's a team effort. I "drive" or steer the boat about 50% of the time. The other 50% of the time, I look out for the buoys, watch the depth sounder, and do the job of the navigator. OK, the best news I ever heard was Claude's remark just this very moment that today is Monday, and he made reservations to watch Monday Night Football (go Steelers!) tonight at the little restaurant/bar at this marina. Heaven. For real. I can't wait.

To Infinity and Beyond (or at least Miami)

2007-11-17T04:58:00.000-08:00

We have reviewed all the web updates, the navigational challenges ahead, the "skinny" water in the rest of North Carolina and Georgia, the date, the weather, our committments, and capabilities. The best plan appears to be 25+ miles a day until we get there. We could walk faster perhaps. But then, the boats would not get there. Darn. We do have a cool but good weather window, so we are casting off as the tide is rising this morning, so as to catch the first land cut after Charleston on a favorable tide. Apparently the current is killer there, and it can knock your speed down to near zero if you are battling against it the wrong way. Oh, happiness. Yes, it is starting to feel a bit like a job. There are of course still wonderful parts, but honestly the challenges ahead are mainly running aground and crashing into other boats. If we just keep going and put in 5 to 6 hours a day, we can make it! We will probably be out of electronic contact for a few days, anchoring in marshy creeks in the North Carolina wilderness. Honestly, you see these houses just like in "Water Boy" and wonder how folks can live in such desolate surroundings. That's when you can take a moment to divert your attention from staying EXACTLY within the narrow channel defined by the navigational markers. It's easy to drift slightly one way or the other given the wind and/or current, but to do so is foolhardy. It is also foolish to navigate this part of the ICW without first checking on the tide schedule and planning accordingly - all of which we have been doing. The most unfortunate thing is that our country can no longer afford to maintain the ICW as it was in the past - the Army Corps of Engineers is actually the maintenance crew. They have all been drawn off into our bizarro war (?) effort and there are neither funds nor personnel available to do the needed work in order to make the ICW user-friendly again. Last night the 3 of us sat around the dinner table and knew this was the last time we would ever do this trip, and wondered how many sailors will be able to even make it at all in the future. The Dismal Swamp canal is closed - perhaps permanently. The ICW is in peril, but very few people actually care. It is reportedly much easier to go "outside" or into the Atlantic Ocean to bypass the ICW between Charleston and Miami, but we just cannot do that. That requires round-the-clock sailing with shifts of 4 on and 4 off. Claude is alone, and would have no one to spell him. So, we are armed with all the information available and mentally and emotionally ready for the inherent and probable eventuality of running aground again a few more times. Charleston has been delightful. Many beautiful sunrises and sunsets await us. The Bahamas are like the brass ring on the merry-go-round - if only we can stay on long enough and stretch ourselves far enough, we will reach it!

from North Carolina into the real South: Charleston!

2007-11-16T09:23:00.000-08:00

We are in the lovely Harborage at Ashley Marina in Charleston, having enjoyed free laundry facilities and a free round-trip to the grocery store in their courtesy van. Heaven! We had a few long, long days to get here. Departing from the St. James Plantation Marina, we encountered three ocean inlets, 2 swing bridges and one "rock pile". The rock piles was INTENSE. We had been on the water for at least 7 hours when we made the decision to press on toward the Barefoot Landing where we had reservations. The rock pile is a land cut that is populated with serious rocks which jut up from the bottom if ever you should leave the narrow channel of the middle. Rocks and sailboats do not mix. With intense concentration, we both made it through and arrived and tied up by about 4pm, just whipped. Exhausted. We went for beer and burgers, and cast off again early the next day. We thought that one 45 mile day was enough. I guess not. With wind and current primarily against us, we managed just about 5 knots for another about 9 hours to get to Georgetown, SC. It is something out of Forrest Gump. If my picture loads up, you'll see the shrimping boats tied up in Georgetown harbor. Once again, just stay on board, early to bed, early to rise, and another 30 miles to go. But that 30 turned into 45 again, as we finally caught a good current at the end of the next day and bashed it out to within 20 miles of Charleston. This part of the ICW afforded few anchorages, and they were mostly 10 ro 12 miles in between. SO, we decided to press on once again. The next morning we were wary of the weather report which indicated SW winds 15 to 20 mph, gusting to 30. Of course, this is exactly the direction we were trying to travel. Rain was also in the forecast. Dicey. We decided to make a run for it at 6:45 am, and lucked out! The current was actually with us, pushing us in to Charleston harbor. The Atlantic comes right in where the ICW spills you out, so we had a few big waves and some reasonable wind to deal with, but came into our lovely marina here by 11:30 am. What a relief! Last night we were treated to the company of Wayne's sister Lois and her husband John, who took us around to see the sights and to enjoy dinner at the most touristy place possible, Hyram's. We wanted to go there to do the real tourist thing. Even got a T-shirt for 4 bucks. Today, having done all the chores, we are about to walk to the intriguing French Quarter and flea market, just for fun. We will have a captain's meeting later today to decide when to cast off again. For now, my picture won't load up as the wifi is slow, but that would be the only small thing marring our stay at this boater-friendly marina in Charleston.

Heading to South Carolina: the evil spell is broken

2007-11-11T14:27:00.001-08:00

Our positive karma has returned! Claude's new part performed flawlessly this morning. We did NOT run aground anywhere despite a challenging day full of ocean inlets and color reversals. Lots of occasions to get confused on the green and the red, as they reversed twice during the course of our travels today. We made it to the St. James marina, a great deal at $1.05/foot for BoatUs members, and were so happy to be able to borrow bikes and play tennis. This marina is situated in a very large gated community filled with lovely, expensive homes, golf courses, and three clubhouse/workout facilities, each one with tennis courts. The courts were clay, a new experience, and very fun. We intend to head to Barefoot Landing in the Myrtle Beach area tomorrow, and then press on at about 30 to 40 miles/day to make it to Charleston by Friday. Each day presents unique navigational challenges, but we are very happy that our energies seem to have turned to the positive, and our progress begins again.

leaving Wrightsville...luck changing?

2007-11-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

Claude's part (brand new) that he installed yesterday did not work. Yes, our worst fears were unveiled when it became apparent there was no way for us to get back on track today. So, after great thought, Claude figured out what was wrong with this brand new thing and asked the West Marine folks if he could just not change one little part from the new windlass for one little part from the old windlass. They let him do it. At noon today he installed the new part from the old windlass onto the new windlass and Voila! it worked! So we are finally leaving here tomorrow for St. James Plantation marina and a shower. Please, lord, let there be no running aground. We did have a fun afternoon watching U of M football at the Allen and James' bar as pictured above, but our team lost to Wisconsin. Disgrace! Well, it was still fun. We met some more lovely folks from Canada on the pilgrimage down, and are now wrapping up the day at the funky Cafe Delmar again. The sunset picture is Merope rafted up to Cassiopeia. We were sad to see Claude "go" today, but it was time to unraft - it was blowing big today and rather noisy last night. We hope for light and fair winds tomorrow and the rest of the week as we have some time to make up.

Hanging Loose in Wrightsville Beach

2007-11-09T13:46:00.000-08:00

Wrightsville Beach is a beautiful place to spend some time! Besides the big city allure of Wilmington, this little beach community offers - well - an outstanding beach! We have enjoyed our morning runs there as well as the hospitality of the North Carolinians. I am presently at the Cafe del Mar, a cute little coffehouse with wifi and great coffee. Unfortunately, our time here ends tomorrow as Claude's part arrived at West Marine and the boys are itching to get "on the road". We have researched and researched the ICW from here on out, and it challenging but hey, alot of people have gone before us this year and made it. We intend to leave early tomorrow morning for the Lockwood's Folly area and then on to Myrtle Beach and the Barefoot Landing the following day. They have a House of Blues there that we are all anxious to go to. In the meantime, it's been cool but beautiful here and the people are very friendly.

Aground Again...Naturally

2007-11-08T13:04:00.001-08:00

If any of you are old enough to remember Gilbert O'Sullivan, you'll know how to sing the above. We left the Camp LeJeune area, hoping to have a peaceful trip to Wrightsville Beach. Unfortunately, it was not to be so. at Browns Inlet we were slowed up by about 5 of 6 boats who were creeping through the buoys carefully. One catamaran was aground in the middle of the inlet. We were following Claude in Merope. The wind and waves were in our faces. It was cold. I was at the tiller, trying to prove my prowess at navigating difficult, shoal stretches of the ICW. We had almost made it through when, what the ****? The guy on the catamaran comes SCREAMING toward us in reverse. He had managed to get unstuck, and was not about to stop for any other sailboats that might be in his way. What? We were on direct collision course. I said, "reverse, reverse!!!!" Sailboats are not like cars. Wayne grabbed the tiller and threw it over, avoiding the catamaran but of course now we are aground. (Sailboats don't actually stop and go in reverse, no matter what you do....they have a bit of "way" or momentum built up that is not so easily altered.) This caused the normally mild-tempered Wayne Francis to utter such profanity that you would be shocked. He really gave it to the guy who just said, "sorry, man........." Yeah, right. I wrote about this in the last post...but I'm still angry. We got to the Harbor View marina that night, had to walk about 1/4 mile to get to the showers, but it was heaven to have a nice shower after such a day. Next day going on to Wrightsville we are spooked and going to follow Claude exactly. We come to a big dredger at another inlet. Claude draws about 3.5 feet, we draw about 4.5 Claude is going really slowly, taking the dredger to his starboard side. This puts us closer to the inlet than to the ICW, but the guys are not answering his radioed requests for directions, and so he is just guessing. He bumps, manages to get off, but TOO LATE FOR CASSIOPEIA. We are aground, again. More cursing. Claude pulls us off with a minimum of fuss this time, but we would just like to spend one day not going aground. We made it to Wrightsville, bumped and narrowly escaped another potential grounding on the channel into the anchorage, and are now rafted up with Merope, waiting for a part for Claude. The good news - we are learning how to avoid running aground if we bump. We are learning the hard way, experience. The bad news, Claude's windlass is not working and it will take at least another day to get one shipped to the local West Marine. What a run around the poor guy has had. The "extra" insurance he took when purchasing this product is practially useless it is so full of loopholes. Claude was supposed to have service on his boat for anything that could possibly go wrong with the windlass. The insurance company that Claude called yesterday seemed to be unable to locate another windlass by that manufacturer anywhere in the world. They are also contracted to utilize a local technician who told Claude he would not be able to do any such work for at least 3 or 4 days. Phone call after phone call. To the insurance company. To the technician. To West Marine in Wilmington, NC. To West Marine in Canda where Claude bought the part. Ah - now we are getting somewhere! The manager at his local West Marine knows that Claude is only looking to get what he paid for, and has had previous dealings with him in this regard. This gal gets on the network, and within about 1/2 hour they have magically managed to locate a replacement part and will have it sent to the West Marine here by tomorrow morning. We hope. Still, the local technician is required by some contract to pick up the part and bring it to the nearest marina for us. Is he going to do the work? Of course not! Claude has already got the defective part out, and it will take him and Wayne about 15 minutes to put the new one in. At any rate, we are rafted up in the anchorage at Wrightsville Beach, and had to have a lovely linguine with white clam sauce dinner together last night to chase the boat woe blues and the chilly weather. It's amazing the nice dinners you can have onboard with a little imagination and the recipe from the can of clams. The road ahead does not look promising, this section of the ICW is almost constantly being updated on the various internet information blogs due to shoaling and sinking boats. I just read that the whole ICW is shut down out of Norfolk, as a boat went aground and sank near Great Bridge, and the Dismal Swamp canal is closed as well. We are lucky we made it this far, and will continue to hone our skills. We hope to make it to Barefoot Landing in the Myrtle Beach area on our second day out of here. In order to get there, however, we will have to continue to sail the shoal-laden waters of the North Carolina ICW and sweat it out for three miles in the dangerous section known as the "rock pile". This is a very narrow section of canal heading into Myrtle Beach which has rocks jutting up into the channel at either side. As such, it is imperative to stay mid-channel. It is recommended that all small craft radio ahead to make sure there are no commercial vessels transiting this area, as there is not enough room for a barge/tug and a small boat to both safely go through and you know who is going to be on the losing end of that one. We will take every precaution, believe you me, and will keep the posts coming as often as possible. For the present moment we are working out our stress and tension by visiting the gorgeous beach on the Atlantic Ocean that is just moments from the boat - sunset strolls and morning runs should keep us sharp and prepare us for the days ahead.

Sun Bum.....SOME BUM!!!! Dinky Doo, we love you!

2007-11-06T12:31:00.000-08:00

What an eventful couple of days. We left our lovely little anchorage in Spooner Creek, and not too far away encountered the first of numerous inlets from the Atlantic Ocean. What we didn't know is that there are these little moveable buoys that mark the newest shoals. We were supposed to follow them. We didn't. We went aground. After launching the dinghy, putting the motor on it, and putting an anchor out, the combination of me gunning the boat in reverse and Wayne pulling HARD on the anchor line got us off. More motoring in dangerously shoaled waters, taking turns at the helm. We were rounding the very last turn toward our anchorage at Camp LeJeune's Mile Hammock Bay and I handed the tiller to Wayne and whammo. Aground again. He was disgusted of course. This time, we were prepared and we were off that shoal in 5 minutes or less. He handed back the tiller, said "I'm NOT driving!". We made it into the anchorage, dropped the hook, and there were naval helicopters circling and circling above while the mortar rounds were going boom in the firing range close by. Wayne was even more dejected as this was reminding him of his draft experience during the Vietnam War. Thankfully the noise stopped after about 1/2 hour and he was able to relax. That is, until today. I took the boat out of the anchorage and through the very first dangerously shoaled inlet. We had just about made through, when some IDIOT on a Catamaran named Sun Bum comes screaming in reverse, right into our path. He had run aground far to starboard (how I don't know) and when he came off, he simply gunned it in reverse into the oncoming boats. There was nothing to do to avoid him, but throw the tiller over. Regrettably, this caused US to run aground, hard. There are not enough nasty words in any language to describe how we felt. Let's try...oh that's right we have a Francophone readership so I can't even use those for fear of offending the ladies. So anyway, poor Claude has to come back, wrangle his motor onto his dinghy, come get Wayne, get a line hooked to the main halyard, dinghy around in this horrible chop and blowing wind in a narrow, awful ocean inlet with boats all around...but he persists! Claude had to drop his own anchor in order to come and save us, but even his mighty motor was not enough. Finally, a lovely man in a large power boat named Dinky Doo (for real) came and attached a line to our stern cleat and with him pulling, Wayne pulling on the main halyard, and Claude pushing we came off. Now, for the third time, I almost collided with Merope, but I managed not to do so, not to dump Claude into the drink as he came off Cassiopeia and back onto his dinghy, and not to run aground again today. What a miserable day. Claude and Wayne both got soaked and were both exhausted. We decided not to turn around, but to continue on to the Harbor Village Marina where Claude and Cathy had stayed some 10 years ago. The wind was hard on the nose, lots of current, and even a swing bridge to wait for, but we made it! As soon as we got to the marina it was delightfully calm and warm. That's where we are now. Just REALLY PO'D still at this bum guy. Oh, the pictures...well it is pretty as you can see in the first picture. And it can be scary, as you can see the patrol boat in the second pictures. Oh, do you think your tax dollars pay for us to get help from the patrol boats? Think again, no way. They just cruised past us as if they never saw us. Enough whining for today, we are about to savor Claude's famous pancake supper and then get a nice, hot shower. Life could be worse. We are still headed south at about 20 miles a day. Never mind we could walk there faster and easier. What could be more fun than boat life?

"You've come a long way...are you going to Walmart?"

2007-11-04T13:44:00.000-08:00

These were the words that greeted us as we were entering the channel leading to Spooner Creek and our current anchorage. More on that later. We left Oriental early this morning (8am) and the very first thing that happened is that Claude's GPS went on the fritz. That meant that Wayne and I had to navigate the whole day the "old fashioned way" with charts, compass, and a sharp eye for navigational aids. The day was not too difficult - we even saw porpoises in the canal around mile 185, but the difficulty level increased sharply near Beaufort. We elected to give Beaufort a miss, take the Morehead City Channel, and go farther. Unfortunately, the first thing we saw coming out of the canal was a huge dredger, not the green daymarker we were hoping to see. Leap of faith and we followed everyone else around to the dredger's starboard side and we were able to get back on track. There are any number of channels marked with a significant number of cans, nuns, and dayboards. We wove our way through, with Claude flying blind - no GPS, no chart, only us to rely on and follow. The great turning basin in Morehead City was absolutely packed with fishing boats, increasing the challenge of staying on course. We persisted, avoided all crashes and most wakes, and ended up on the other side in the Bogue Sound. I don't really like the name of that but oh well. At that point we were only about 2 or 3 miles away from the chosen anchorage. We radioed to Claude, "follow us slowly and hope for the best". He said ROGER THAT! As we made our turn into the anchorage entrance channel (known to be subject to shoaling and therefore perilous), some guys on a fishing boat yelled out the quote of the day in a friendly manner. Wayne, being a friendly guy, started a conversation. Me, being less friendly, reminded him this was time to "stay on task..." We made it into the channel, took a sharp turn to port in a very narrow space, and this beautiful little gem of a harbor appeared before us. We are anchored in 6 to 7 feet along with a number of trawlers and 1 other sailboat. It's true, we selected this anchorage based upon a number of criteria, not the least being a WalMart just 2 blocks away from the dinghy dock. We have just returned from there, laden with vitamins, gloves, warm socks, etc. I would love to post a picture, but I am pirating the wireless from the Spooner Creek marina and it is none too strong or reliable so - we'll try to take one and post it up on a future blog entry. We plan to brave the Camp LeJeune firing range tomorrow (Skipper Bob says they station a boat on the ICW right before you get there if they intend to fire rounds across the waterway that day) and hope to end up at Mile Hammock Bay. One thing we are going to do: verify the GPS tonight and keep on using the charts and compass. You can teach an old dog new tricks, but you better not forget the old ones just in case.

After the flood - happy trails

2007-11-03T11:55:00.000-07:00

Here are the second set of images, taken today. The waters came slowly but relentlessly yesterday. They receded with amazing speed! The cold morning offered the perfect temperature for a little run. Now the sun is beginning to show it's power again and the clear blue sky is such a welcome sight. It's perfect football weather here, and at Michigan State as well according to the fabulous and inimitable Catherine Lydia Edgell, with whom I just had the good fortune to speak. Chores being just about done, it will soon be time to engage in one of our favorite activities: watching U of M football. Cate is visiting friends at State, so we'll be looking for her in the stands. Then off to Spooner Creek? Mile Hammock Bay? Wrightsville Beach? Can't really say exactly when we'll be making our intended anchorages or even if, but the storm has delayed us too long and it's time to get on the road again.

Noel floods the town, Claude goes to town

2007-11-03T11:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the pressure and outside winds from Hurricane Noel combined to create a mini-flood in Oriental. Last night the halyards were clanging all night, the boat rocking even at the marina, rain fell intermittently and no one slept very well. Today it's incredible: the water is gone, the day is clear and the NOAA Tropical Weather report does not even mention Noel any more. We decided to stay one more night just to be sure the wind and wave predictions are likely to be accurate, and will start moving south again tomorrow. We have been doing boat projects: I should say Wayne and Claude are. I get to clean and polish stuff and sweep, all the easy stuff. Oh, but I also have to try to post pictures on a weak wireless network that takes a long time. I am going to post the "after" pictures in a few moments, because it will only load up 2 at a time. Claude was in great spirits this morning as his new friend Rob Stevenson from Oriental picked him up for dinner at his mansion. After a beautiful dinner, it started raining and Rob lent Claude his Jaguar to drive back to the boat. How does this guy do it? We are continually amazed at his "Claudaciousness", and ever thankful that we managed to hook up with him.

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end - to be stuck in Oriental with those Beaufort Blues again...

2007-11-02T10:10:00.000-07:00

Yes, Noel is now an official hurricane, and we are just slightly south of Cape Hatteras. No going any further until the big boy blows out. What in the world to do? Two nights ago we had a lovely music party on Bill and Caroline's boat. Clearly we were having some fun. Yesterday they took their boat out for a day sail. The opportunity to sail their gorgeous 40 foot Pacific Seacraft was too much for both Wayne and Claude, and they were delighted to take turns at the wheel. Scratch that. Wayne was delighted to take a turn at the helm. Claude pouted and whined when he had to turn it over, and demanded a St. Pauli Girl as compensation. A couple of St. Pauli Girls later, il ne fasait plus la guele. It was sunny, breezy (10-15 knots) and nice yesterday afternoon, and I broke my self-imposed rule of NEVER going for a "pleasure" sail again. Knowing that we would be at the marina for a few more days, I figured what the heck, why be a party-pooper. I felt no need to demonstrate my lack of prowess at the helm, but Caroline was the real helmsman that day, bringing that big boat into the slip like a pro. Caroline and I took a trot to the grocery store, and on the way back what do we see but Claude behind the wheel of a Lotus! One of the local gents we met at the Tiki Bar took a liking to Claude and somehow that bugger managed to convince the guy to let him drive his racecar. We are still trying to comprehend how he gets people to do these things. Claude rocketed out of town from 0 to 60 in 5 seconds (according to his own account). We were happy to see him arrive safely back, as this British racecar has the steering on the right and therefore a left-handed stick shift. The evening came to a blissful close as we shared a potluck dinner under the stars on the deck of the Oriental Marina. Our other friend Rich on the Kelly Rae joined us - you can still see his boat on the towndock harborcam. Do check it out if you get a chance. You will see that the water is steadily rising and has now obliterated the road in front of The Bean. We can still step out onto the dock finger next to our boat, but this will almost certainly be underwater by the end of tonight. We were lucky to have made it to this very safe hurricane hole just as Noel decided to play hardball. We took borrowed bikes to the grocery store this morning, and are probably tucked in for the rest of today and tomorrow. It does not look like we'll make Beaufort before Sunday at the earliest. Rich thinks he is going to Beaufort tomorrow to catch a weather window to make the crossing to Bermuda on Sunday. This sounds like certain death, or at the very least a suicide wish to me, but what do I know? I am glad to have reservations for tomorrow night as well as tonight, and so many new good friends with whom we can share this storm experience.

Parts and Friends in Oriental: how to weather the storm

2007-10-31T09:00:00.000-07:00

Claude is fixing his "muffler" himself with a combination of rope, goop, nuts and bolts. He tried to get a new part, but unfortunately it seems no one makes that part the correct size for his boat any more. As you can see from the photo above, he is proud of his workmanship. The part is installed now, the boat is running, but we are not moving. Tropical Storm Noel has threatened to spank us, and we are tucking in and staying in Oriental until the the big blow that is coming will pass. We are very happy at the town dock in our little 'pod' of boats. The nice folks sitting with us in the other picture are Carolyn and Bill from the Worthless Wench. We had a little happy hour on the dock, all you can eat shrimp dinner at a local restaurant and then a musical party with guitars, harmonica and accordion. It was such a lovely evening! Other notable events include a Francis-Edgell tennis match in which Edgell took Francis all the way to 7-5 only to have Francis win the set. This incredible feat was repeated the very next day. Someday I will win fair and square, just like the occasional game of pool. Anyway, this little town is so cute, so well maintained, so clean, so amenable to boaters, we are certainly falling in love with it and we are extremely glad to be able to wait out the storm here.

Oriental Webcam

2007-10-30T11:54:00.000-07:00

For all of those who pick up on us the next day or so, the following link will take you to the Oriental, NC harbor webcam. We are the boat at the end of the dock. You can see our blue sailcover, and the bow. Claude is on Merope on the right hand side of the dock, and new friends Carolyn and Bill on the "Worthless Wench" on the other side. Beautiful, sunny and clear for now, but as Noel makes it's way around we may be looking at some nastier weather later in the week. Oriental is a sweet little town, very boater friendly. We even found a tennis court, so we'll be taking some more pictures this afternoon on the way to play. Here's the webcam link:

http://www.towndock.net/harborcam50.shtml

Bienvenu Claude! We create a team.

2007-10-29T07:45:00.000-07:00

Meet Claude, our new travel-mate in the photo above with Wayne at the M & M's cafe in Oriental, North Carolina.
The sail from Belhaven to Oriental, North Carolina was made much better by the addition of our new team member, Claude! Claude is from Quebec and he is single-handing his 29-foot sailboat Merope all the way to the Bahamas as well. We travel about the same speed under sail and under power, and having anchored near eachother in Belhaven started to chat about teaming up. Claude is a fantastically smart and talented person in addition to being a mighty sailor and Harbormaster at his yacht club back home in Canada. He is a diesel engine expert among other things, which makes us feel incredibly safe. He is teaching us to actually use the GPS as it was designed to be used. He is a charming French-Canadien gentleman with whom I can even practice my French! We are so lucky to have teamed up with him, and hope to make the whole voyage together. The teamwork element was very important yesterday, as we sailed from Belhaven to Oriental in a huge, following wind. We crossed 2 of the "4 most dangerous passages on the ICW" - according to our chart book. The first was the Pamlico River/sound. The wind was about 15 to 20 knots on our tail, and the waves short and choppy. We had the main out and were flying along around 7 knots motor sailing. Surviving the Pamlico, the waterway narrowed down into the entrance of a 4-mile long canal and we had to maneuver upwind to drop the main. Claude, of course, had to leave the helm during this as he was all by himself. I was at our helm, and Wayne up front taking the sail down. Well, of course I did not quite realize that no one was at Claude's helm and nearly ran into him! The only casualty was my head as the boom swung a bit quicker than anticipated. We got the sails down without any great difficulty, and enjoyed a nice quiet motor down the canal. I was able to give the captain a break at that point, as the sail down the Pamlico had been athletic to say the least - especially after the fun Halloween we had. Exiting the canal, we entered the Neuse River and 14 miles of rolling, short choppy waves from 2 to 4 feet or so, a howling wind and screaming downriver with the Genoa out. Poor Claude had engine problems ( go figure, he's the mechanic) and so we cut our engine too and made great time without it. Regrettably, the changeover from mainsail to Genoa and subsequent rolling of the boat, the bang on the head, and the general poor condition from the night before all conspired together to completely incapacitate the first mate who is prone to motion sickness. Oh yeah. I was over the rail the whole time, nothing left to even spew out but heaving anyway. From time to time Wayne would need help and I would verify position with GPS and charts, look for a buoy, or take the helm briefly. Mostly, however, I was completely limp and useless. Several hours later we made it to Oriental harbor and were blissfully accomodated by the Oriental Marina. We will post some pictures of our host and hostess Thomas McIlhenny, Daisy Taylor and dockmaster Bub. Joe and Laura and the rest of the crew are as friendly as can be, and extremely helpful. Taking a hot shower last night in the beautifully clean facility - complete with fresh towels, shampoo, soap and hand creme - I thought I had died and gone to heaven. That was until we went to the M & M's cafe and had a fabulous dinner. Life is good again! We regret having missed most of the World Series but Go Sox! and Go Blue who also won this weekend. We will be happy as 2 little clams watching the Packer game tonight on the Toucan Grill's big-screen TV and knowing we have a wonderful new friend and an easy day to Beaufort tomorrow.

River Forest Manor Halloween: :Putting the Bel back in Belhaven

2007-10-29T06:51:00.000-07:00

After a VERY wet night and day on anchor in Pungo Creek, we motored back to Belhaven to enjoy the hospitality of River Forest Manor and Marina and their Halloween Party. Discarding the notion of both dressing up as streetwalkers (this is the South, after all), we settled on our version of Captain Jack Sparrow and his pirate wench. The proof is as documented for you on the preceding photos. The River Forest Marina is around 100+ years old, circa great lumber and transportation barons, and was built by a very wealthy North Carolinian for his family. The original crystal chandeliers and sculpted ceilings remain in beautiful condition and the house now serves as elegant reminder of a by-gone era of southern grandeur. Our hostess for the evening, Ms. Charlotte Furstenberg, is the lovely vampirella in black. She made sure the party got going. Wayne was making new friends right and left, and we were having a lovely time. Just as we were about to leave, Charlotte announced we had won the costume contest (being the only couple there in costume aside from the employees) when entitiled us to our entrance fee back and 2 free drinks. We really could not take full advantage of our good luck, as had a big sail scheduled for early the next morning. Still, we managed to hang around to enjoy a wee bit more of the outstanding southern hospitality there is to be found in the classy River Forest Manor.

Not so belle Belhaven

2007-10-25T12:48:00.000-07:00

We left our gloomy anchorage (first picture) yesterday, preparing to go down a 22-mile ditch in the swamp (second picture). it was Eeyore all the way. Our cruising guide had suggested that Belhaven is lovely and popular stopover. The third picture is the main industry here in Belhaven, the fertilizer factory. With the wrong wind-direction, it is quite fragrant. The town itself is seen in the fourth picture. The very cultured lady at the local gourmet wine and cheese store told us in her lovely British tones, "we are a two-stoplight town you know....." The fifth picture documents the BEST thing about Belhaven: a marvelous public library with computer access, wi-fi, a lovely remodeled interior and a screened-in porch with rockers for reading the paper, etc. To it's credit there are a block or two of lovely, stately homes in the southern tradition at the very far end of town, but most of the town is either dying or dead. The anchorage itself afforded little protection in the hellacious south wind that blew last night, but today the weather has settled down and we were able to walk the mile to the Food Lion and reprovision successfully. On the way there I saw a new sight: a cotton-field in bloom. We had to walk over and pick a wee bit...We are truly in the real South now. The library even carries the most recent edition of "Conservative Citizen" in the periodical section. Needless to say, we did not have a look at it. There are quite a number of boats anchored here, as it is a well-used stopover for pilgrims on the trail. That is really what it feels like. It is unthinkable, the number of boats that are heading south along the intercoastal as we are. We see folks we have seen before at any number of different ports. We also get passed by just about every other boat as we are very nearly the slowest "on the trail" at all times. That is, except under sail. Yesterday we spent a glorious half-hour under sail without the droning of the diesel, and during that time we flew! Being the slowest has certain advantages: for example, there is always someone ahead of you to let you know where to go. We met up with another fellow slow-poke today, a gentleman from Quebec named Claude. We intend to meet up this evening to discuss kind of teaming up. He is sailing all by himself, and although experienced with the ICW is not anxious to truly go it alone. We travel about the same speed and prima facie appear to have the same basic cruising philosophy (called gunk-holing) so it all appears to be a good fit. We'll be taking the next couple of days to get to the Beaufort area and then hope to grab a slip at a marina to ride out some inclement weather that has been predicted. Wayne has heard that the ICW below Beaufort is quite different, "Prince of Tides"-type scenery. That would be a welcome change from the interesting but seemingly endless and buggy swamp. Those of you in the UP will smirk to know that while we are having warm, humid weather, we are also still getting bit by mosquitos.

Norfolk, VA to Coinjock, NC: Toto, we are not in Kansas any more

2007-10-21T16:50:00.000-07:00

Entering Norfolk harbor is absolutely nuts. There are enormous battleships, container ships, tugs, sailboats, power boats, yikes you name it. Then, there is the question of where are we going anyhow? Basically, left (port if coming from the Chesapeake and heading toward the ICW). You get in to what we now know is the largest natural harbor in the world, and all you see are destroyers, aircraft carriers, e-bloody-normous boats of all types. After you pass through a militarized marvel for about 20 minutes you get to the container shipyards (Norfolk International) and it's cranes the size of the Empire State Building and still you have not gotten to the place yet. That place, mile marker zero or Red 36, featured in a previous entry, was our home for a few days. Norfolk was big and glossy. Portsmouth aging gracefully. But then, jumping off into the ICW requires a trip down the Elizabeth River passing more enormous ships (see photo three), lift bridges, swing bridges, and one completely inconsequential lock until you arrive at Great Bridge, VA. There are a number of bridges surrounding Great Bridge and one associated lock. We entered the lock along with our cohort of boats, and slung long dock lines around the bollards. We knew the lock would lift or lower us no more than 5 feet. This is child's play. Wayne settled in to read for a while and I decided this was the moment to re-do my toenails. Some time later, the lock operator sauntered out and mentioned to the nearest other boat, "girls...they are always doing their toenails." I looked up, and shortly afterward the southbound lock gate was opening. I said, "Hey Wayne! They are opening!" He was as astonished as I was that the whole procedure had taken place while we were not looking. OK, after the Erie Canal's Waterford Flight of Five with locks of 40+ feet, this was nothing. Ask my daughter Sarah. She'll tell you. It was WORK going through the Flight of Five. I was filing my toenails and we were locking through without even knowing. Everything in perspective. OK, so it was cool tying up in Great Bridge. All the free tie-ups on the west wall were taken, so we actually tied up to some trees on the east wall. You can buy anything you could possibly want in Great Bridge, it is so commercial. We did find an awesome sports bar where we watched the Red Sox on one screen and Michigan ( Go Blue!) beat Illinois on another screen. I even beat Wayne in a game of pool fair and square that night. These things must be recorded for posterity and a legitimate record. So, Great Bridge is a fun stop where you can tie up for free, but then it is out into the ditch. Soon afterward, you arrive in the thick of the swamp, where the fourth misty pictures of boats navigating the perils of a lift bridge in the cool morning air is taken. That was this morning as we were headed to Coinjock, NC. Yes, the 1st picture is Wayne at the helm in the swamp. We were unable to take the Dismal Swamp route due to lack of water, so we took the "Virginia Cut' instead. Sufficiently swampy for anyone's taste. We crossed the Curritick Sound at the end of the day to arrive here at one of 2 marinas that comprise the entire town situated on the east and west sides of this tiny canal and were amazed to tap into fast and furious wireless. Will wonders never cease? Tomorrow we will cross the Abermarle Sound heading toward Belhaven, NC and the true confederacy. Stay tuned...more adventures are sure to occur on this most unusual of highways.

Mobjack to Norfolk, beyond our expectations

2007-10-18T11:46:00.000-07:00

The sail from The Great Wicomico brought us once more out into the wide, lower portion of the Chesapeake Bay. It is SO unlike the upper portion which is narrow enough to see across at most times. The lower portion is much more like one of our Great Lakes, and we were able to not only actually SAIL some without the motor, we were able to use the autohelm. The tremendous advantage to this is that you can keep reading while sailing! Of course someone has to keep a lookout for other boats, buouys, and the ever-present possibility of running aground. Compared to our more eventful sails in the upper bay, this was a piece of cake. We selected Mobjack Bay so as not to have too long a day sailing to Norfolk, and selected an anchorage up the East River quite randomly. It was not so extraordinary when we dropped the hook - still a little rough and no particular "destination" but we were done sailing for the day and it was time to stop. Little did we realize what a majical place it would turn into! Sunset was spectacular as the picture above will readily show. We enjoyed our quiet dinner with the most dramatic backdrop of orange, red, and golden splendor. The next morning we arose to a mist-laden scene with cloud-like layers swirling about the trees and houses and mirror-still water reflecting the entire scene back at us. WOW! It was about the most beautiful morning "exit" we had experienced in all of our Chesapeake sailing days. That was until our enchanted fairy-tale like journey down the glassy, mist-laden East River was eclipsed by the school of dolphins that came to visit as soon as we entered Mobjack Bay proper. The boat slid into the bay just as the dolphins were jumping and playing at the mouth of the East River. They came over to see us and swam with us for just a little while. We tried to capture them, but digital cameras don't seem to have the type of instantaneous shutter action that "regular" ones do, so what we managed to capture was the scene above where a few fins might be visible given a good imagination and faith. Believe us, sailing with a friendly school of dolphins was the highlight of the day/week/month and a great omen for the rest of the trip. When we finally got over our excitement about our dolphin escort, we got about the task of sailing to Norfolk. Holy wah. Norfolk is the largest naval facility in the world, and it sure looks like it. As you enter the harbor, you can see aircraft carriers, battleships, cruisers, destroyers, and even a huge hospital ship. It just goes on like this until you reach the "Norfolk International Terminal" which has several great piers servicing enormous container ships. The cranes and machinery surrounding the piers are frightening in their size and reach. This goes on for a while more, and you realize you have been in the harbor for more than a half hour and still not "there". "There" is mile zero of the IntraCoastal Waterway or ICW. "There" is known also as "Red 36" or "Hospital Point". After nearly an hour of crawling up the harbor at 6mph (walking speed) we finally arrived at the famous Hospital Point anchorage where the boat is now. Norfolk is home also to the Naval History Museum, and the battleship Wisconsin, both of which deserve to be toured. Norfolk is sleek, urban, and upscale. The waterfront has been overtaken with fancy hotels and condo developments, and within a short walk there is a monsterous mall, anchored by Nordstroms. No, we have not been there yet. In fact, we are now in Portsmouth, Virginina which is just across the Elizabeth River from Norfolk. Portsmouth has a much more accessible and charming Olde Towne district, but is much more blue collar and heterogeneous. We are amassing as much information as possible prior to taking off from "mile zero" including the hurricane predictions from the NOAA and the updated charts from the Tidewater Marina. Both Norfolk and Portsmouth have public libraries within easy walking distance, but the Norfolk library is observably more affluent. The charming little restaurants in Portsmouth have a greater interest for us, as well as the friendly folks at the Tidewater Marina. For $12 we were able to use their dinghy dock, their laundry room, their internet, take showers (a real luxury after lots of days at anchor) and come and go as we please. The gal in their store was so friendly and helpful, we barely could believe it! So we will remain for a few days in this historic place where the great battle of the "Ironclads" took place during the Civil War. We are in Confederate territory now, having passed the demarcation line about mid-harbor. Imagine that - a couple of Yoopers entering the real South. So far, so good. The real test will be the 4 lift-bridges and Deep Creek Lock which we must navigate in order to complete the next phase, "The Dismal Swamp".

Solmons to Sandy Point, Tiki and BK

2007-10-18T11:34:00.000-07:00

Our last couple of days in Solomons could not have been nicer! We played a few more nice games of tennis at the Holiday Inn courts, and took long walks. One of these lead us to the AnneMarie Sculpture Garden. This gorgeous, public garden is the gift of a local gentleman in honor of his daughter and features outstanding sculptures by well-known artists on loan (?) from the Hirschorn Museum of the Smithsonian Institution. It is really a gem, set in the woods on a little-travelled rural road near the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay. We must have spent at least an hour wandering among the gardens and sculpture. Heavenly! Less than heavenly but also quite fun was our chance meeting of a mighty sailor named BK at some sports bar for Sunday afternoon football. Miraculously, both our teams won in the 4th quarter (The Pack and Da Bears). We decided to continue our celebration at the "world famous" Solomons Tiki Bar - and that is us in the first picture. We shared sailing stories and light beer and passed a delightful evening. The next day we left for our 3-day trip to Norfolk. The first day we sailed to the Great Wicomico River and anchored in a lovely anchorage right behind Sandy Point. The schooner that you see in the picture must have been returning from the Great Schooner Race. Sandy Point is a popular anchorage with good reason - it was very lovely, easy to get to, and carried at least 14 feet of water almost all the way to the shore. Arriving at Sandy Point we noticed an incredible rainbow-like effect streaming out of the clouds. We decided that was an excellent omen and spent an extremely pleasant night. The next day - Mobjack Bay!

Solomons Island characters and life

2007-10-12T11:06:00.000-07:00

One of the characters we've met in Solomons is a guy named Steve who is on his third marriage, second boat, and first year of retirement. He retired from teaching in the public schools, choosing to teach 5th grade in his last few years as, "they aren't quite as bad yet..." Steve graced the stern of our boat with his presence around 1:30 pm on the day after our arrival with a dinghy full of beer, a gallon of rum, a bag of ice, and a case of Jamaican Ginger Beer. He insisted we join him in a little afternoon libation. We chatted about the usual - the state of the American teenager, the fact that we are burdened with the worst administration ("W") in the entire history of our country, and the beauty and freedom of the sailing life. He had a steady flow of expletives interspersed in his rum-laden stream of consciousness (we noted he started early) and a large gold loop in his left ear. We celebrated "boat life" for a while under the shade of our Bimini, and then Steve was ready for nap time and departed as gracefully as possible given his condition. Boat life is the subject of today. We noticed we do live in an 8-foot by 8-foot area. The galley or kitchen area is actually quite spacious as sailboats our size go...the salon - which is a combination living room, dining room and bedroom - is within that same 8 X 8. Somehow looking out at the sunrise and the stars gives the whole thing a larger feel. Reading is a large part of "cruising", and we have plowed through a ton of books and authors. Wayne says it is just like living in a studio apartment. Well, sort of. Ours floats. And travels. Quite honestly we are posting this blog in the lobby of the Holiday Inn, having paid ten bucks yesterday just to have 23 hours of internet access. It is hour 22.5 and I am typing as fast as possible. We are planning to enjoy a Vera Bradley fundraiser for Breast Cancer tonight at "Caren's Solomons Style", then watch as much football as possible over the weekend - U of M homecoming vs Purdue and the Pack at the Redskins. We're also planning on watching the Red Sox vs Indians tonight. It is the only TV we get to watch...then on Monday on to the Great Wicomico River to anchor for a quiet night. Tuesday we will sail to Mobjack Bay and we will be in Virginia by then. Wednesday if all is well, we will make it to Norfolk and might have the ability to access the internet again. Until then, there will assuredly be more characters, more weather, more opportunities to sail, run aground, motor all day - who knows? Boat life is an endless stream of possibilities and uncertainty punctuated by beautiful starlit nights and blossoming sunrise mornings that send you out onto the water one more time.

Cambridge, Oxford, and the best Crab Cakes ever...

2007-10-11T12:15:00.000-07:00

Our last few days in Cambridge were notable for the lovely company we encountered "on the wall" and the creation of our own exquisite crab cakes. We were able to purchase a pound of fresh backfin crab - harvested that very morning - which came with the J. M. Clayton Company's own recipe for making these savory treats. I am definitely not a big fan of shellfish in ANY form, but I was willing to try this...We followed the recipe with only the substitutions necessitated by our limited larder, gently sauteed them in olive oil, and sat down to the first scene above. Wayne was mortified when I brought up some ketchup - he said, "that's impossible, you can NOT use ketchup on crab cakes!". I explained that this was "just in case..." but the miracle happened - they were delightful! I did not need the ketchup at all and in fact would gladly make them again but only if we are able to obtain the delicious, fresh crabmeat that the Chesapeake is known for. Now having our own secret recipe for the best crabcakes in the world, we will be willing to share it with those by email request only. We met a tremendously nice family from the Annapolis area - Dan, Eleanor and Sandy Shanahan (grandma) and their 3 young sons and shared stories, beer, and barter items. I could not help but give these lovely ladies some earrings, for which they gave us what must have been the best steak I have ever eaten and a whole lot of it, not to mention fabulous vegetables from Sandy's own garden. For three nights we ate like kings (our own crab cakes and 2 nights of steak and veggies). This aspect of sailing cannot be beat. After speaking with Dan, we decided to make an overnight stop in Oxford, Maryland on the Tred Avon River. The lovely sunrise and harbor view with the tented racing boat are from Oxford. Although tiny and extremely sleepy, Oxford is a great overnight as the general store has all the provisions you could really need and everything is within easy walking distance. The "beach" - about 15 to 20 yards of soft sand - is a prime spot for picking up beach glass, and brave folks do swim in the water there. Oxford has a small but excellent museum, which featured an exhibit of scrimshaw art from throughout the region. It was fascinating and beautiful. There are convenient tennis courts, parks, and lovely tree-lined streets with typical Chesapeake restored houses. It was well worth the stop. The next day we continued south to Solomons Island, Maryland where we are presently. We spent the most absolutely delightful evening last night conversing with three true southern gentlemen from Richmond, Virgina aboard their 36 foot Beneteau. They introduced themselves as Billy, Bobby and Nelly (for William, Robert and Nelson). They invited us for a sip of Benedictine or a "perfect Manhattan" and conversation. It was an amazing conversation as Bobby is actually a PhD Economist now working in the private sector, Nelson is an architect and engineer, and Bill is actually Bill Broadus, the former Attorney General for the State of Virginia. These three extraordinary men met and became friends in prep school, and celebrate their ongoing friendship with a sailboat cruise every year they can. Bill is a magnificent orator with a mellifluous voice, deep and rumbly with that honeyed southern accent. It was so much fun to have the chance to just chat with these charming gents, and to appreciate the artful way Bill used his voice, presence, and encyclopedic vocabulary. Truly, the art of being a Southern Gentleman is still alive in these three. Now we are at anchor, surrounded by Quebequois on all sides. It gives me a great opportunity to practice my French, but these folks are all so young we were wondering how they could be on the same adventure. In fact, they ARE all travelling to the Bahamas just as we are, and intending to sail for the entire year. They explained, they all have no kids yet, and are merely "taking a year off". Makes me wonder what kind of great system the Canadiens have that they can do this. At any rate, we have yet to attend a Vera Bradley fundraising event for Breast Cancer on Friday, taste the tropical drinks at the world-famous Tiki Bar, and find a good place to watch football this weekend. Solomons is going to be a great place to spend a week.

Cambridge : "the UP of the Chesapeake"

2007-10-06T12:03:00.000-07:00

The sail from St. Michaels to Cambridge was extremely pleasant, the Choptank being a wide and deep river with well-placed buoys. The entrance to Cambridge Creek, however, was something else. As you sail nearer and nearer the bridge which spans the Choptank at Cambridge, it seems you will crash into it without seeing the entrance to the harbor. Then a red "nun" buoy signals the need to make a hard turn to starboard and magically a tiny opening between a yacht yard and the marina turns into a deep channel taking you right to the harbor. The inner harbor is not terribly large, but large enough and square in shape similar to Annapolis. We have been lucky enough to stay tied up to the docking wall in front of the County Office building all week. This is a free-up, which saves us considerable aggravation and resources. The Municipal Marina is wonderful, only $1.25 per foot, gas and pumpout reasonable, and showers are great!

Cambridge itself is a town which has seen far better days. Although there are a smattering of restaurants catering to the boaters and a handful of cute shops and galleries, for the most part the town is economically depressed. The main street is much like our own Washington Street was prior to all the renaissance development zoning and "cool cities" money which has helped us to turn our downtown around. There are vestiges of beautiful old buildings, but many are vacant and in significant disrepair. The library, however, is wonderful and always filled with residents. (They have GREAT wireless too...)

The inner harbor at sunset is really a delight, as the photo illustrates. We can walk to Snapper's bar and restaurant (in this picture) and enjoy a beer and carribean/american food in an lovely air conditioned atmosphere with a very friendly staff. The old elegance of the once-important town is evident in the historic district where grand old homes still stand majestically under a canopy of ancient shade trees. The pictured house here is the Granmar house which dates to 1790. Similarly there are several magnificent churches, this one being the Christ Church Episcopal Church on High Street.

One of the highlights for us has been the municipal tennis court complex. Eight beautiful new courts are open at all times for public play, and are only a 10-minute walk from the harbor. The walk takes you through both wealthy and poor neighborhoods, and it is easy to see that there is a significant working class population here. We met a number of "locals" in the Canvasback Bar, most of whom work in construction or on the water. They enjoy the same types of things as most of the folks in the UP: fishing, hunting, dogs and sports. The combination of a large working-class and an outdoorsman mentality made us feel right at home.

Cambridge may not be the port of choice for upscale cruisers, but it has been an especially good stop for us. I was able to sell my complete current inventory of jewelry (thanks, Melissa!) to Kate at "The Pear Tree" and Wayne has been able to fix a lingering problem with what we will attempt to term euphemistically as "head odor". The people are friendly, the recreational opportunities numerous, and the old-world charm is still there.

I might be a sailor someday...

2007-10-04T12:20:00.000-07:00

I come from the North country. Growing up on the shores of Lake Superior I learned many things about living on the water. The “Big Lake" was always cold, always pristine, always crystal clear. Summers it was predictably refreshing. Winters yielded lake effect snows dumping feet at a time upon our Upper Peninsula. Storms were nasty for sailors of all vessels. Until a few months ago, that was the extent of my sailing knowledge.

About 5 years ago, my fiancé began taking me on “day sails” aboard his 33-foot Pearson Vanguard. This noble boat (built in ’66) sailed us on overnights to Grand Island and to idyllic, hidden beaches within a few hours’ time. No wonder I fell in love with sailing. When he suggested we take a year to sail the boat from Marquette, Michigan to the Bahamas, I readily agreed. Little did I realize all there was to learn! The trip from the shores of Lake Superior to the mighty Chesapeake Bay has been spectacular. For those novices considering a similar journey, I would like to share some of what I have learned so far.

Sailing across Lakes Superior, Huron and Erie presented us with a number of challenges. The first thing a novice sailor must undertake is the mastering of reading charts and plotting courses. This requires attention and precision and a bit of “faith”. On the day we were to make our crossing of Lake Huron, we encountered such thick fog that visibility was limited to about 10 feet. We had set our course upon casting off for the day, and sailed it faithfully. Miraculously our first sight of land was the lighthouse marking our port of destination! We used our GPS unit to make adjustments during the day, and had no trouble anchoring in a lovely, safe harbor for the evening.

Lake Huron also taught me the importance of remaining calm during heavy weather. Cassiopeia, our boat, is capable of handling a significant amount of wind and waves, and her captain is a mighty sailor. When the lake blew up a sudden squall just as we were approaching Port Huron, there was naught to do but take down the sails and hang on! We arrived cold and wet, but unscathed. We had unknowingly arrived the day before the Port Huron to Mackinac race and the many fabulous sailboats lining the harbor were a welcome sight.

Lake Erie taught me the importance of flexibility. When an unexpected headwind blew up with a good bit of force, the captain decided we would need to alter our destination to the closest safe harbor. This turned out to be a great decision, and we enjoyed the comfort of a serene anchorage behind an impressive breakwater.

Entering the Erie Canal from Lake Erie was a bit of a shock. The novice gets to experience all the “roadblocks” the Canal has to offer in rapid succession. Taking the Black Rock Canal to get to Black Rock Lock, one encounters a massive, ancient “swing bridge” which is miraculously still functioning. Soon afterwards there is a bascule bridge and then finally the lock itself. This trifecta was a powerful lesson in the need to be an excellent communicator.

The Erie Canal is divided into an eastern and a western half. The western half is sprinkled with lift bridges. It is important to learn how to use the VHF radio, so that the “communications officer” can call ahead to the bridge operator while the captain is steering. This becomes particularly important when the lift bridge operator is responsible for more than one bridge. Similarly it is important to contact the lock operators on the eastern half in an appropriate manner. It’s also critical to get your locking gear ready and your job well understood prior to entering the lock. Gloves, boat hook, dock lines and fenders should be out and ready. It is imperative to know what your job is and to communicate among crew members in a calm, efficient manner. The Erie Canal is an absolute delight, made even more pleasant when prepared for the obstacle course.

Coming out of the Erie Canal, we sailed down the Hudson River and into magnificent New York harbor. This is where the critical nature of attention to navigational aids hit my consciousness as we experienced our first grounding. We were traveling at low tide, and mistook a lighthouse (which was painted red) for a “red”. In fact, it was a “green”….et voila. The water Sheriff came by and explained that the entire boating community had begged for it to be painted green, but the historical society which had done the restoration work insisted it should be as it was originally, that is – red. We were able to come off at high tide, but not before the boat had heeled over significantly, allowing us to spend a couple of hours reading in the dinghy.

The importance of attention to navigational aids is magnified about 100 times when one reaches the Chesapeake. Here even our boat, which drafts only 4 ½ feet, is in frequent peril of running aground. The Captain and First Mate should research their destination the night before, carefully scan the water for navigational aids while underway, and agree that the occasional running aground is not such a tragedy. The wonders of the Chesapeake, where hundreds of charming communities are only a day-sail away, exceed the imagination.

In sum, in three short months I have learned to handle the tiller, the diesel engine, the lines, the dinghy, and the dinghy motor. I have learned to plot a course using charts and the parallel rules, sight that course with the hand-held compass, and sail the course using either the compass or the auto helm. I have learned the abbreviations for the various navigational aids, how to utilize that information, and how to utilize the GPS and VHF. I have learned how to lock through, handle obstacles, and not panic when running around. By the time we get to the Bahamas, I might be a sailor!

St. Michaels farewell - a splashy affair

2007-10-03T12:02:00.000-07:00

Our last few days in St. Michaels were extraordinarily pleasant. We toured the incredible Maritime Museum, enjoyed a great game of tennis at the courts behind the high school, met new people and even spent an evening aboard the Lady Maryland which is in the picture. Lady Maryland is an all-wood replica of a Pungy Schooner, painted in the traditional green and pink. We met her captain while watching football on Sunday at the bar "Characters". He came from a family of cruisers, and it just so happened his folks were visiting as well. The Captain, Rich Hillman, not only directs his crew of 6 sailor/teacher/biologists, he also teaches hordes of children about sailing. His ship does a lot of public school programs and outreach, and also takes a group of 10 High-schoolers on board during the summer for a learning sail from the Chesapeake to Cape Cod. This is one of the programs for exceptional students that Johns Hopkins offers in the summer. Well, enough of all that - suffice it to say it was magnificent touring the 80-foot schooner and going down below for grog and games. Next weekend the "Great Schooner Race" will take place in which a host of schooners of all sizes will sail from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge to the bottom of the Bay. The only stipulation is that the many NOT engage their propellers at any time. The bay's wind is flukey at best, sometimes dead calm and somtimes blowing like crazy. As a result, the race usually takes about 36 hours. We will be in Solomons, MD at that time and hope to report from there. At any rate, we now have 3 acquaintances who will be racing their schooners and it is so much more exciting when you know the captains! The swans pictured above greeted us upon arrival at St. Michaels and were seen no more. The other two pictures are of a typical sunrise and the waterman whom we saw crabbing every morning just before dawn until about noon, right by our anchorage. Just prior to the taking of these pictures, we were getting ready to sail which includes taking the motor off the dinghy and pulling the dinghy onto the foredeck. This particular morning Waynqe somehow lost his balance while handing up the motor (the dinghy was damp and slippery), yelled to me "I don't have it..." and splooshed face down into the Miles River. Luckily I had a good hold on the motor and was able to attach it to the back rail while attempting not to laugh hysterically. This stunt was enough to keep us both laughing for some time, and the sail to Cambridge passed by with great weather, nice breezes, and general mirth.

St. Michaels Public Library: Chesapeake plus

2007-09-27T11:57:00.000-07:00

We arrived in St. Michaels, Maryland about 2 days ago after an easy and pleasant sail from Annapolis. From the bustle of the big city, we have now escaped back into somewhat rural life in a tiny town with cute shops, few pubs, a smattering of restaurants and many, many boats. Things of note in St. Michaels: 1. This is where the movie "The Wedding Crashers" was filmed. There is an expansive, elegant estate on the North side of town called "The Inn at Perry Cabin". Upon the evening of our arrival, we heard a great duet in the style of Jim and Ray. We took our dinghy to where the music was coming from, and happened upon what appeared to be a meeting of insurance executives. It was a cocktail hour on the lawn of this same resort, so instead of crashing a wedding we crashed a "meeting". In any case, the music was great and the setting unbelievable. 2. The Public Library is the very same one in which James Michener did most of his research for the novel "Chesapeake". He and his wife were living near St. Michaels while he wrote the book, and he set up a trust fund afterward to endow the Talbot Library. This library is participating in a Bay-wide event to celebrate Michener's 100th birthday and tonight is hosting a discussion group in the same manner as Peter White's "Tortilla Curtain" event. Luckily, we have both just read this book and intend to participate! 3. The Maritime museum spreads over 18 acres with numerous buildings including a working light house and ship restoration workshops. It would take all day to discover all the interactive exhibits and learn all that the museum has to offer. The establishment of St. Michaels dates to the mid 1600's, and by 1700 the town became a major shipbuilding center concentrating on fast commercial sailing vessels. Three ships are presently here: the Lady Maryland which is a traditional Bay-style "Pungo Schooner" and two active Skipjacks, the Sigsbee and the H.M. Krentz from Annapolis. The town is no longer a ship-building center, however it is certainly a haven for boaters - both sail and power. Last night we witnessed a multi-class sailing regatta which took place here at the entrance to the harbor under a sky changing from brilliant orange to muted purples and finally to silvery moonlight. It is a sailor's dream here with a great, quiet anchorage, convenient and culturally active town, and great tennis courts at the High School. We plan to stay through the weekend as we have found a non-smoking sports bar with football specials (we were laughed at wildly when we inquired if there were a non-smoking sports bar in Annapolis). We will post up some pictures for your viewing pleasure and debrief re: the "Chesapeake" book discussion.

Historic Annapolis: revolutionary fun

2007-09-25T12:32:00.000-07:00

Coming into Annapolis harbor, one cannot help but be awed by the warships heading out of the Naval Academy and the Academy itself. We managed to miss crashing into any of the busy harbor traffic and pick up a mooring ball just in from of the City Dock. Annapolis was an extremely important city before and during the American Revolution, and the Capitol Building was the site of many meetings of the planners of that war - and in fact the site where in 1783 George Washington resigned his commission as Commander in Chief of the army to accept the Presidency. For a short time, Annapolis was actually the capitol of the new country, until a part of the state of Maryland -the land on the Potomac which is the present District of Columiba was selected. We were able to take a bus to D.C. for a one-day whirlwind experience. It's hard to put into words the feeling you get when looking at the Lincoln Memorial beyond the reflecting pool at the Capitol Mall. We went to all the major monuments and the Hirschorn Museum and sculpture gardens of the Smithsonian, but all around us the wonder of the capitol's buildings and gardens bloomed. Having learned of the great men and principles upon which this nation was founded, it was bittersweet to visit DC as those principles seem to have all but disappeared from present-day political goings-on. Notwithstanding, it was well worth the trip. Returning to Annapolis, we enjoyed three days of their Plein Air painting competition, culminating in a lovely reception in their new Arts and Culture center. This is a large former public high school which has been completely devoted to plastic and performing arts - they even have a ballet company! Other Annapolitan highlights included the Fall Festival, watching football at the Rams Head (go blue...!!!) and a great blues band at the Acme. Annapolis showed us wonderfully restored colonial-era neighborhoods amid both St. John's College and the Naval Academy. There was as much or as little nightlife and cultural activities as anyone could want! The sail to St. Michaels was far easier and more pleasant than the winding trip up the Chester River, and highlights from our present location will be coming soon.

Leaving Chestertown: the next phase

2007-09-16T08:34:00.000-07:00

We just attended a lovely service at the Episcopal Church which defines the town square, and were dismayed only by the aged population of the parish. It is a wonderment that some churches still survive. It is perhaps fitting that we will be leaving tomorrow; I think this is what happens as young people leave small towns such as this to seek their futures in larger cities and those left behind must try to continue without them. So we are leaving Chestertown with a great sense of the history and tradition, the importance this town commanded in Revolutionary War times, and it's ultimate decline with the establishment of super-highways and abandonment of the waterways as primary transportation arteries. The attached pictures are of the schooner Sultana under full sail, a lovely sunset over Chestertown Harbor, and Wayne planning the next leg in the darkness that falls early here in the Chesapeake. Surely any visitor to Chestertown will be enchanted by this friendly little town - we attended a men's varsity soccer game at Washington College yesterday and to our suprise there is never any fee to attend their games! This is also perhaps indicative of our feeling that - if there was a fee - no one would come...but all we can say is if ever in the Chesapeake with a few days to spare, the trip up the Chester River is well worth the time.

Chestertown and beyond - how to survive the Chesapeake

2007-09-12T13:36:00.000-07:00

The weather has broken here after a rainy day yesterday and lovely, fresh 70-degree weather is upon us. We continue to haunt the public library but are branching out into playing tennis, exploring the many local art galleries, and boat maintenance. Wayne is becoming a diesel engine mechanic from sheer necessity. We have discovered that routine, preventive maintenance is critical to the performance of even the newest of diesel engines. This requires much reading of diagrams and instruction manuals, obtaining (hopefully) the correct parts, and spending a couple of hours getting dirty and sweaty. How appropriate that he has been (re)reading "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". There are many situations aboard a 2-foot by 6-foot space that require a certain amount of Zen thinking - including the feeling of being trapped. This is most easily dealt with by going above-board and looking out at the beautiful sky/river/town/etc. New pictures in that regard coming in the next post. Part of this can also be dealt with by moving along, and so we are planning the rest of our Chesapeake adventure right now. Stay tuned!

Remember Andy's?...

2007-09-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

We have returned to the public library in Chestertown as the profound heat and humidity of the Chesapeake is too much for our northern constitutions. It is about 90 degrees here with a slightly overcast sky and an unending haze. We tried to go back to the boat for a relaxing afternoon but the heat index is staggering and we wilted. The only refuge in such an instance is the air-conditioned library. One of the spunky and fun athletic coaches we met last night was the women's soccer coach. We were the only 3 people (the 2 of us and this gal) in the entire bar rooting for the Packers during their masterful defeat of the Philadelphia Eagles last night. She turned to us in amazement and said, "...was that you guys cheering for the Packers?" We had to admit it was, and she exclaimed, "I'm from Wisconsin!!!" (Madison area as it turned out) We discussed many yooper things and all three of us had to agree that this kind of heat in September is outrageous and should be illegal. Ah well, we were looking for warm weather. One thing we did NOT expect to find was Andy's Bar! For those of us who fondly recall peanut night, the chopped off pool table, jumbos, and dancing on the tables to jukebox tunes by Wild Cherry and the like - this does not compare. Andy's here is a spacious pub with comfy chairs in one room, a bar about the size of the Marquette Andy's in the center, and another game and comfy chair room in the annex. The pub fare is quite recherche - salmon quiche, gazpacho, etc. But it is a friendly place and very fun. We saw a gal named Jennifer Brantly with her Nashville band there who had been described as "Cheryl Crow fronts a Country band". She was good indeed but we only made it through about one set. The photos associated with this post include the exterior of Andy's (Chestertown), High Street, the schooner Sultana and the harbor. We are bound to be expanding upon this week's entries every day - that is until the temperature outside reaches more UP-like parameters for this time of year.