April 21 22 Charleston SC to Wrightsville Beach NC 155 7 Miles

We left at 10 as planned, but I screwed up reading the tide table so the tide was against us on the way out of Charleston, though weakly. We put up the main in the inner harbor and jibed it several times on the way out, past Fort Sumter where our Civil War began. Actually it began in SC, earlier, with the thinking of Calhoun, on the theory of states rights to "nullify" federal authority, a doctrine now becoming popular again among the lunatic right in this country.

We turned left as soon as we reached the first buoy after the end of the seawall and put up the genoa as well. This was before noon but the wind was too weak and too far behind us, to move the boat with  any speed, so we motor sailed, mostly motored, until about 1:30. I even had taken down the mainsail. I had not realized how much of the first 109 mile long part of this passage, was more easterly than northerly and so the projected five to ten knots of west wind was behind us. Then came wind, much stronger than projected and a gift to us. I was able to get up half the mainsail, with double reef in it, and continued with the genoa. The wind built behind us and we were screaming along at seven to eight knots with peaks at 8.9. And with the wind about 120 to 150 degrees from our bow, we rolled a lot from side to side, most unpleasant. Lene felt a bit nauseous though she did not lose her food. We had a delicious cold dinner -- no cooking with the rolling. It was warm and sunny by day and reasonably warm at night, with no rain. But during the night we got some slow speeds, less than four knots and even though I did not put up the genoa again until near daybreak, it was this night part, as well as the first few hours, where we lost time

After dinner, at 7:30, we replaced the genoa with the small jib, a safety measure for nightime sailing in big waves, and were still making over seven knots with just the small headsail and double reefed main. We had put on the preventer to prevent accidental jibe of the mainsail, and with the small jib sliding back and forth we took it in and sailed under just double reefed main. The preventer was a good thing because the wind had shifted from off our starboard quarter, to off the port quarter during Lenes watch. We were sailing "by the lee" -- the way you get that accidental jibe. When I got up at one (Lene let me sleep late) we jibed the main and continued on toward the turning point - off the tip of Frying Pan Shoals, which extend many miles out into the Atlantic from the Cape Fear River. We saw very little traffic: Two big freighters passed us at quite respectable distances -- closest point of approach being miles away -- and one sailboat overtook us, headed for Beaufort. I saw his lights and estimate he was 200 yards off our starboard side, moving a fraction of a knot faster than ILENE. Prior to the close passage I had a radio conversation with him to confirm what each of us was going to do.

Once around Frying Pan, at about 4 to 5 am, we turned north to Wrightsville (The Masonboro Inlet) and the wind came up from our port quarter to its beam and even forward of that. This second leg was only 32 miles and wind speed varied considerably during the leg, as, consequently, did boat speed.
It is hard to get good pictures of a night passage so at least I have the long awaited dawn.

Masonboro Inlet is easy, wide, well marked and flanked with seawalls. Once in, it is easy to get to the anchorage area and we dropped at 1:30, only 90 minutes "late" compared to our projected schedule that would have averaged 6.5 knots. Nice homes line the bay side of the barrier island.

We put out a lot of chain because there is lots of room and 20 knots were predicted for this evening. But by 4 pm it was howling at up to 40. We visited Wrightsville and made the reciprocal of this same ocean passage, to Charleston on our way south last fall and hence felt no need to lower and raise the dink to stretch our legs in Wrightsville. Tomorrow: Beaufort NC, about 80 miles and if the forecast comes true, a beam reach  or close reach from the port side, with five to fifteen knots.
I  tried to take a photo of the pod of dolphins playing under and around our bow, taking the Ipad up there, but they are way faster than ILENE at eight knots. I took maybe 50 shots and only one, a video of less than one second, caught a dolphin. These were not the slow graceful swimmers in the ICW but racers amidst the big ocean waves. I couldnt get the video into this post but it is on Facebook. I did manage to neither fall off the boat nor drop the camera.
Ilene is a true member of this crew and a solid citizen on overnight passages. She grumbles a bit and still relies on me, and I have to admit I like the  second part of that. She is even taking an interest in the charts, tides and weather. I couldnt make this trip without her, physically, mentally or emotionally. We have some chores that each of us do most of, but both of us do many of the chores. She said she liked our 25.5 hours together.
On our honeymoon on the old ILENE, in August 2002, we spent a pretty terrible 36 hours in a noreaster off the coast of Maine  The boat got beat up (torn sail, water inside through the dorades, compass light out) and we got beat up too. After a good nights sleep Lene asked, "Where do we go next?"  I replied "God, I married the right woman!"  And that has become truer with each passing year.

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Directors Cut CRAB Delivery Skipper Freedom 21

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Click here for information about CRAB (Chesapeake Region Accessible Boating).

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It somewhat pains me to admit this, but Ive done more keelboat sailing over this past summer than dinghy sailing. Ive been volunteering at CRAB (Chesapeake Regional Accessible Boating - my long time sailing friend, Dick White, is sailing director there) and Ive been kicking around the Bay with various groups in CRABs keelboats, the Freedom 21s, which were designed specifically for handicap sailing.

The blogmeister had to make a singlehanded delivery of a Freedom 21 from the home-port of Sandy Point State Park down to Annapolis (the Freedom 21s were sailing in Boatyard Bar and Grill fundraising regatta off Annapolis that Saturday). I took my trusty pocket waterproof camera and shot a very short video of the 6-7 mile jaunt (including selfie).





I was delivering the Freedom 21 down to Annapolis for the annual Boatyard Bar and Grill fundraising regatta, where, as it turns out, US Sailing had decided to feature this years regatta, and CRAB, in this well done video.




The local Chesapeake Bay sailing rag, Spinsheet Magazine, captured the elusive blogmeister crewing at a previous Wounded Warriors Regatta.

Photo courtesy of Spinsheet Magazine

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January 21 Rodriguez Key to Marathon 49 1 Miles

Sunrise at Rodriguez was with glassy water.

Lene took the next one without my knowledge. My left foot is holding the thin green rubber hose in place so it doesnt kink. My right foot is on the "UP" button of the windlass. The hose is squirting salt water on the anchor chain as it comes up to wash off sand, mud and rust.

This big ugly storm was east of us but once we rounded Rodriguez, we headed west, away from it.

The wind came up at 10:30 and we put up sails, but except for the next half hour, they were not strong enough to sail without the engine. We had shifted to our second fuel tank last night after running since Titusville on the first tank. We will fill both tanks before leaving Marathon.

Hawk channel has many small round crab trap floats. Not as many as Maine has lobster pots, but enough that one has to keep a careful watch to avoid hitting them. I guess the crabs like to live in water that is 20 - 25 feet deep, where we like to sail, because that is where the traps are. I have been told that the crabs, whose legs folks like to eat, have an unusual ability -- to regenerate lost limbs. So the watermen pull off one claw and throw the critters back into the sea to live another day and grow another claw.

We passed the 65 foot high Channel Five Bridge, under which we could have passed to the Gulf of Mexico side of the Keys, but for the fact that once we get there, the water gets too shallow for us. You can see the former low bridge, removed at the highest spans. And a crab pot is in the photo, the white dot.

Marathons municipal Marina has dockage for perhaps 20 boats and 260 moorings. But that is not enough, because we were placed as number 14 on their waiting list and told where we could anchor in the harbor. There was a low bascule bridge across the harbor that we had prepared to hail, but the bascule center span of that bridge has been taken down since our chart was printed. Im not really happy with the crowded nature of the anchorage area, and we may decide to go outside the harbor and anchor west of the island where there is lots of room for a longer scope, if stronger winds come.

We registered and paid for dinghy dock privileges for a week and got a paper wrist band that we attached to the dink showing that we have paid (to be credited against mooring fees is we get a mooring, pro rata for the number of days in each status). We unloaded garbage, bought and mailed a postcard to my grand daughter, got some Benadryl for Lenes sun rash, learned where to fill our propane tank, filled four of our one gallon bottles of drinking water ($.05 per gallon), and did three loads of laundry.  

We met Katrina, from Annapolis, on the dock. She is aboard an Island Packet, "Sea Monkey" with her son for a week while her husband is doing his reserve duty. And while dinking back to ILENE we saw another Saga 43, "Remora," our first this trip, and introduced ourselves to the owners. More, later.

We have heard so much about this place from Dean and Susan of Autumn Born. They, as do many others, like to stay here for months. With a waiting period for a mooring, it pays to stay rather than give up your mooring to move on. A mooring rental of $300 per month is easy on the budget. This is not St. Maarten where egomaniacal big spending boaters go seemingly for the primary purpose of being seen by others. This is more a harbor for older and smaller boats. It has a "homey" feel to it. We will learn a lot more in the morning when the boaters all talk on a net on VHF 68 at 9 am.

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October 10 21 ILENEs Floating Season Ends

All good things must end. Having lived aboard during the first 146 days of 2015, during last winters Florida adventure, 2015s boat days will be a good number. (See next post.) The twelve day period reported on in this post saw (A) ILENEs final three sails, (B) four work days and (C) GOC.
Lets start with the sails. One was with Rhoda and Lloyd, of the Harlem. We have sailed with many times in the past. We were underway about four hours, and I confess that due to poor note taking, the wind and our course regrettably escape me.
Next was with four residents of my apartment building. I started out planning to sail with Dorothy, who is a fellow client of our personal trainer. That morning he mentioned that another couple in our building who trained with him, Mort and Rollie, had said they would like to sail some time. "Call them right now and ask about today; we leave at noon!" He did and they are in! But Dorothy was not feeling up to it today and requested a rain check for next season. "Sure." And now, including me, we are down to three souls. But on my way back to our apartment I saw Max, who shares a wall with us; he is in the next apartment.  He had to check with Ellen and two minutes later, my bell rang and our party had grown to five. Max purchased a picnic lunch for us all and we ate aboard, before getting underway -- while waiting for wind. Then there was only a ghost of wind, but it built, out of the north, and we got almost to Execution Rocks before heading back. We enjoyed four hours underway and three of the four guests took a turn at the helm. Mort is a professional oenophile who praised the bottle I served aboard and brought another to my apartment to replace it. Rollie, Mort, Max and Ellen:

ILENEs final sail of the season was also the final gathering of the Old Salts, including several of the regulars, and two special guests. We were underway for 3.5 hours, and got about a mile past Ex. Rocks, peaking at 7.4 knots. This was rather amazing given how foul ILENEs bottom was. (See below.) Thanks, Larry, for the next two photos. Here are Dave, Marti and Marcia:

Next is Dave, doing what racers do: checking the sail trim, with Art at the helm

Readers of this blog will recall Marti, who I have named The Goat Lady of Grenada. She has a long history of animal care and is volunteering there to help raise goats to develop a chevre cheese industry. She showered us with such great hospitality there during 2011. I had known that she was coming to the Big Apple for a visit and saw that she had arrived via a Facebook posting. It turns our she was staying in a friends apartment only a block away. I did not have her phone number but instant messaged her at about 10 a.m., and picked her up an hour later. She fit right in and has the ability to do that wherever she is. Our other honored guest was Dave, an excellent racer and now in charge of qualifying members who want to use the boats that the Club owns. I have long desired that he sail on ILENE, figuring I would learn something, and I was not disappointed.

With Lene in Israel, I had no date for the Clubs annual end of season gala, and Marti was able to gin up a suitable outfit despite having left all her dressy clothes in "The G," as she calls Grenada. It was a cool Saturday evening, warmed by the camaraderie of our members. Memorial plaques were set in the flag pole base for Al, a loyal Old Salt who moved to Florida two years ago, Tom, whose death I had not heard about, and Vinny, who I sailed with up the Hudson at the end of the season, perhaps ten years ago. The cocktail hour was long and delicious with good quality wines, and the sit down dinner was also great except for the perennial problem we experience: our kitchen is just not adequate to serve that many people at the same time. Our servers brought eight plates at a time to serve all the people at one table at the same time, but the last table was not served until amore than an hour after the first. The trophies to the winners of the races were duly warded. As Fleet Captain, I described the highlights of the Clubs cruising activities, thanking Bruce and Diane for designing the Club Cruise itinerary. I regret that I forgot to summarize the Old Salts season and to thank Mark for his help in reinvigorating the group.

(The next day was chilly and I escorted Marti on a tour of lower Manhattan via rented CitiBikes, my first experience with this program. I got an appreciation for the problems of cyclists in the City, with the paint marking the bike lanes significantly worn away and motorists infringing them even when marked. The thirty minute time period causes tension - finding the docking stations, though they let you take another bike two minutes after you drop off the last. We used three bikes to get from Tenth St to the Brooklyn Bridge and Chinatown, to the Hudson and Freedom Tower and back, stopping for a warming lunch in Chinatown.)

The first of the work days was the Clubs annual fall work party. I got enlisted into a group of four who painted the yard car,

by which boats on cradles are transported around in the boat yard (parking lot). After about twenty years of service it looks like new. I love these work parties because you get to know people who you only vaguely recognized before. And a delicious free lunch is always served.
Having loaded the two pieces of ILENEs canvas winter cover from the locker to the cart to the launch and to the boat, I motored from the Harlem to the Huguenot, about five miles, in no wind to speak of, entering through the western passage, passing the NYACs club house. After docking I stripped and bundled up the two headsails and removed the battens from the mainsail.
Next day I stripped off the main and after tying it to itself, heaved each of the three huge sail bundles from the boat onto the dock. Then they are, one at a time, lifted into a dock cart, wheeled about 150 yards to the parking lot, lifted into my car and driven to the Doyle sail loft on City Island, for repairs, cleaning, proper folding and winter storage. That same afternoon ILENE was lifted from the water revealing the terrible condition of her bottom.

Keel is bearded! Too many sandy landings in the last 18 months.
But power washing by Orlando and scraping that I did cleaned it off and she sits blocked and steadied by jack stands. Some of the black bottom paint is completely gone, with the blue paint underneath showing through.

The fourth work day, five hours, began with an inspection of a blasting of the bottom paint using tiny glass particles (except for the aft portion that I barrier coated two winters ago). David, using a powerful air compressor, did the forward three quarters of the hull in two hours for a very well spent $1175. Based on how long it took me to do the back end two winters ago, I saved about 25 days of back breaking, dirty and dangerously unhealthy work. A bargain. A photo of the newly white bottom will be added to this post soon. That same day I tried to winterized the engine, air conditioner, heads and fresh water system, which was very frustrating, because I had done this in the past but kept getting stuck. I also removed the lifelines and stanchions and rigged the "ridge pole" for the canvas cover (whisker pole, boom and a board from the aft end of the boom to the radar arch) in preparation for installing the cover. The next post will describe a sail from Essex CT to Hampton, VA, which kept getting delayed by equipment problems and weather. Many work days are ahead.

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