November 4, 2009.

Anchored here in Morehead City we didn’t have the luxury of internet to aid us in making an informed weather decision. There are dozens of wifi signals but all are password protected. Bastards. So we listened to NOAA on the VHF, we used Skymate to grab an update and called our friend Jay for a weather update. Based on all these inputs we decided that an overnighter on the ocean wasn’t in the cards. As it stands there’s some ugliness scattered over the next couple of days with Friday being unfit for neither man nor beast out on the deep blue. So our choice was to either sit in Morehead City (with no internet) until Friday rolled around to see what happens or to head off down the ICW making our way slowly south. I guess something is better than nothing, so away we go.

When we retired for the night the wind was non existent. Since we had dropped the hook so early in the day I forgot that our American flag was still up on the backstay. I usually take it down every night at sunset. Of course by 0200 the wind had started to kick a bit and had the flag flapping vigorously. The metal clips for the flag bang against the backstay. The sound travels straight down the backstay right into our frontal lobes as we pretend to be able to sleep through the racket. So, as a result we were both wide awake and ready to go before 0600.

We had the hook up and retraced our way out of the anchorage. The mainsail was soon up and shortly afterwards the genoa made its debut and the engine was off. It was only to be a 45 mile day ending at Mile Hammock Bay. We were able to sail the 25 mile length of Bogue Sound at better than 8 knots due to a great tidal push. We had to start the engine and drop the sails for the last 20 miles of the day as we wove our way through the ICW to our anchorage.

Mile Hammock Bay is part of the military base at Camp LeJeune. It’s a wonderfully protected, very popular anchorage along a stretch of the ICW with very few options besides a stay at a marina. While we were sitting in the cockpit reading we were treated to the sight on a small intracoastal cruise liner making his way along the ICW. How the hell he can make it through these waters just baffles the hell outta me and I was glad we were anchored when he came past. Talk about a big fish in a small pond.

The next suitable stop for us is at least 40 miles away at Wrightsville Beach. Even leaving at first light an 80 mile day was out of the question as days get shorter. With our early departure we arrived early and had the hook down by 1300 hours. We spent the afternoon reading and watching the anchorage fill in around us. And I did remember to take the flag down at sunset.

November 3, 2009.

We left Oriental and the hospitality of the Small’s in our wake this morning. We headed across the Neuse River and entered Adams Creek bound for the inlet at Beaufort.

One part of our revamping of the automatic bilge pump system was the installation of a new control panel as well. The thing keeps track of how much the bilge pumps runs and there’s even an alarm that sounds so you realize that’s it running. I was happy with the installation and hoped it would make a difference in our daily lives.

By the time we were in Adams Creek the alarm was sounding for 3 or 4 seconds every half hour. That’s craptasic. It’s crappy that we evidently have a leak, but it’s fantastic that the system actually works as designed.

We stopped at a tiny marina along Adams Creek to top off one of our fuel tanks. When I was done fueling I flipped back the mattress to see if the freshly packed rudder post stuffing box needed adjustment. Nope, not dripping, it’s coming from somewhere else. Crap.

We (Christy) decided rather than put to sea with a leak of unknown origin we should drop the hook in Morehead City and check things out. That’s why she’s the admiral. So we called it a day after covering 25 miles and slipped behind Sugarloaf Island.

After setting the hook I went and checked out the engine room while the motor was still running. Crap. The raw water pump is leaking through the seal. Crap. It can’t be properly repaired underway and needs to be sent out to be rebuilt. Crap.

As luck would have it, the other day when I was repairing the manual bilge pump I noticed a forgotten unopened box in a dark corner. It looked like the box a new raw water pump would come in. Today when I needed one, the first thing we did was get out the ships inventory and look down the list for a new pump. None, nada, zippo. Crap. I went below and dug to the back of the locker and pulled the box out into the light of day. Eureka! A brand spankin’ new raw water pump. We’re in business. I knew Christy wouldn’t have let us go to the Bahamas the last couple of years without a spare pump in stock. I probably stuck it back there before she had a chance to inventory it. Oh look another locker to inventory, it’s on her to-do-list. I’ll take the blame, whatever, we had a new water pump.

It was quick work to remove the fittings and pulley from the old pump and flip them over to the new pump. The new pump was installed and ready to roll in an hours time. Since we were already dug in for the night we decided to just sit here until tomorrow.

The weather on the ocean is supposed to be a little “lively” tonight anyway. They issued a small craft warning, with winds predicted to be 15-20 knots, climbing to 25 knots after midnight. There had been some serious discussion as to whether we should go or not so it looks like the leaking pump made the decision for us.

The anchorage is really nice and we can’t believe we have it all to ourselves. I’m not even gonna predict what we’re going to do tomorrow.

November 2, 2009.

Once again we were up before the sun and underway. This time we were one of a steady stream of boats headed south.

The breeze was a little lighter today as we headed south. Pure sailing was going to yield us about 3 knots so like everyone else we opted to motorsail.

We made excellent time down the Pungo River and across the Pamlico Sound. The wind was pretty much non existent in Goose Creek but when we popped out into the Bay River we were able to kill the engine and sail for 2 hours. The wind soon died away leaving us with a 10 mile motor to our destination of Oriental, NC. As usual we slipped into Whittaker Creek and tied ourselves up at our friends; Ken & Carol’s backyard dock.

We’ve spent a few days here seeing our people, meeting new people, catching up with other cruisers and doing boat chores.

Since we’re only a few days from going offshore I decided to see if I could once and for all exorcise our bilge pump demons. Our automatic bilge pump wasn’t working again so we’ve been using the manual bilge pump to pump the bilge dry.

We’ve noticed that there’s been a significant amount of water getting into the bilge since we left Annapolis. The rudder post turned out to be the culprit. I found that there just wasn’t enough adjustment left to get the rudder post to stop dripping. I’m able to adjust the stuffing box without to much trouble but to repack the stuffing box meant that I had to disassemble the steering quadrant and the autopilot attachments to gain the necessary access. It all went well and turned out to be a simple repair.

With the source of the leak resolved it was time to fix the bilge pump. I’ve done this so many times that I just said “to hell with it” and ripped out the whole system right down to the last wire. I replaced all the wiring and even installed a new fancy assed panel.

Our old panel had a fuse and a toggle switch with “manual, automatic or off” as possible choices. The new panel has those choices and also includes a counter so you can see how many times the bilge pump has cycled and an alarm that sounds whenever the bilge pump comes on. It all seems to work real well but we’ll see how it goes once we’re at sea.

I also got the upper hand on a leak that’s been killing me in our fresh water pressure system. With that fixed I replaced all of our sail slugs along the foot of the mainsail and the line on our Lifesling. We also reactivated our Skymate weather reporting system.

As it stands right now we’re heading down to Beaufort in the morning with the hopes of heading offshore tomorrow bound for Charleston, SC.

November 1, 2009.

Happy Birthday Mom.

When last I wrote we were anchored off the free docks in front of Elizabeth City, NC. The waterway has been a lot more crowded than any other trip we’ve made in the past. All the free slips were taken so we dropped the hook and spent a pleasant night at anchor.

We woke before dawn, checked the fluids, raised the mainsail and sailed off the hook at first light. We had a 50 mile day planned, but “I” had a semi silly notion of knocking out a 71 mile day.

We sailed wing and wing down the remaining 15 miles of the Pasquotank River. The wind was slowly building as the morning went on. When we arrived at the Albemarle Sound we had to turn onto a starboard tack. We covered the 13 miles across the sound at over 7 knots. The sound was a little choppy, but the trip across went quickly.

If you’ve been a long time reader then you know we had a horrible experience during our initial introduction to the mouth of the Alligator River. As a result, every time we enter the Alligator my sphincter gets a little bit tighter. There was even more to make us apprehensive this time, there was a parade of boats coming across from the Virginia Cut off to our port. I had decided to skip marker number 1 and head straight for number 3. The other boats all seemed to be heading for number 1. At this point both markers weren’t even in sight. I was just dead reckoning where I “thought” they should be. To my relief the column of other boats all turned to starboard and headed towards our course just as # 3 came into view for us.

Like I said, we hate this particular stretch of water and I was so relieved to have things unfold they way they did, that I decided not to even bother starting the engine. We had good wind and easily sailed through the winding channel.

Once we were within 2 miles of the Alligator River Swing Bridge we started the engine and dropped the sails. The bridge was constantly opening and closing for the steady stream of boats. Once through the bridge, the engine was off and we were back to wing and wing for the rest of the Alligator. During the days excellent sailing I proposed my extended day to Christy.

At the southern end of the Alligator River is the Alligator Pungo Canal. The AP Canal is 22 miles long and pretty much guaranteed to be close to 4 hours of solid motoring. When we left Elizabeth City we were planning to anchor just before entering the canal. I proposed that if we got to the Pungo Canal by 1400 hours that we should keep going and drop the hook once we were through the canal. Christy looked at me and just rolled her eyes so I took this as a sign of agreement, we arrived at the canal at 1415 so I figured “close enough” and we continued on through the Pungo.

The trip went well even though there was a bit of a current against us. Once clear of the canal we turned to starboard and worked our way into the anchorage among 20 other boats. We slept well after a 77 statute mile day. Even though it was a long day, it was a great day with more than 50 miles of it being under sail alone.

October 28, 2009.

The anchorage at Hospital Point has the reputation of having so-so holding. We’ve never stayed there before but we usually take those reports with a grain of salt.

I would say that most nights we anchor in about 10 feet of water. The 10 foot water depth added to the 5 feet to the bow roller means that we can drop 75 feet of chain and be sleeping on a scope of 5 to 1. It always works, we always sleep well, it’s simple. The difference here is that the chart shows very little water in close to shore so most people anchor out in deeper water than they’re used to. We were in closer than several boats and we were still in 20 feet of water. That meant our normal 5 to 1 scope would require 125 feet of chain. There just wasn’t room so I dropped 90 feet of chain, set the hook well and then set the anchor alarm.

Of course the wind kicked up a bit, brought some rain and veered as well. I was up several times during the night checking out “voices” in the night. People were dragging and when dawn broke I was shocked at how many people had dragged past us during the night. It’s just piss poor seamanship and I forgot just how common it seems to be sometimes.

The first real bridge we had to contend with was the Gilmerton Lift Bridge. Directly next to the bridge is a railroad bridge that is usually open, ya know, unless we want to get through. When we came around the bend we came upon the railroad bridge stuck in the down position with about 19 boats already waiting to get through. We were the lead boat in a small parade of another 9 boats so now there was a butt load of boats waiting for the bridge.

We were meandering through the crowd of boats saying “hi” to friends and pretty much just checking out who was there that we knew. As we were slowly coasting past a boat that we don’t know I looked over and waved hello. I was met by the sight of a guy waving his arms wildly in the internationally accepted “WTF?” motion. He was actually upset because he thought we were trying to cut the line or something. I couldn’t believe that he was serious so I laughed and waved again. Then when the bridge finally did open after an hour and a half I did make it a point to go through before him. It’s gonna be a long ride south for that guy if he keeps getting stressed over somebody getting through a bridge 19 seconds sooner than he did.

We decided on the Dismal Swamp to avoid the crowd of boats that were now bunched together and headed for the Virginia Cut. We got to the lock 40 minutes early and after holding position for so long at Gilmerton I was in no mood to do it again.

“Dolphins” are several pilings lashed together to form a very stout mega piling. There’s one right in front of the lock at the Dismal Swamp so we nosed right up to it and Christy dropped a line over it from the bow and we hung from it while we waited for the locks scheduled opening. The breeze kept us away from the pile and made things much easier. We heard the captain of the boat next to us discussing the advantages of our technique with his crew. Little did I know that this would come into play later.

Locking through was normal. The trip down the swamp was normal as well. We hit at least 10 submerged logs that shuddered the entire boat and it ended with me swearing never to do the Dismal again. See, just like always. Normal. F#@k the Swamp.

Even though we took our time going through the swamp we got to the other end with an hour to kill. To exit the swamp you have to negotiate a lift bridge and then another lock. Since we got to the bridge so early we pulled up and tied off to the bridges fender system. It’s a huge wood wall, 8 feet tall and 70 feet long, in great shape and it just begs to be tied to.

We were tied to the port side fender when the next boat showed up and the captain decided to tie up to the starboard side fender. Unfortunately, he and his crew weren’t on the same page. There’s a dolphin just before you reach the fender system that protects the fender system from being rammed.

The captain was intending to side tie to the wall but the woman on the bow dropped the already cleated line over the dolphin as they went by. Before the captain could stop the boat it immediately turned hard to starboard and wedged its bow firmly between the dolphin and the end of the fender system. There was a slight current from behind the boat which slowly pivoted the boat out perpendicular to the wall. Now it was really wedged. Try as he might there was no backing out of this wedgy. He ended up throwing a line across to us, which I took out to the end of our fender system to pull his stern back upstream a bit. It ended up being enough as his bow finally pulled free. I was going to say something about shoddy seamanship again but I think this one actually falls under the category of practically paranormal. As a matter of fact there’s probably a secret government center devoted to the study of people doing stupid stuff on the water.

So here we sit in Elizabeth City with the Albemarle and the Alligator in our sights for tomorrow.

October 27, 2009.

We slept well and found ourselves threading the winding exit from Jackson Creek back out into Chesapeake Bay by 0830. The wind was out of the north northeast so we were under sail as soon as we cleared the confines of the channel. It had rained a good bit during the night but the day broke with no rain; just a bit of fog and a dreary grey.

There were some fairly large rollers piling into Fleets Bay as we headed out into the Chesapeake. We had to go far enough out across the Chesapeake before turning south because the rollers were large enough to spill all the air from the sails as we tried to gradually turn south. So we continued east until we could lay a course for Wolf Trap Light. This left us running wing and wing with the wind and seas directly behind us. This turned out to be a very comfortable point of sail and we averaged 7.5 knots.

Once we reached the Wolf Trap it was time to veer 20 degrees to starboard. Luck was with us as the wind was just starting to come more out of the north northwest. We went to starboard tack and actually picked up some speed. To make matters even better, we had the ebb tide running with us almost all day.

When we reached Norfolk it was time to turn even more to the west. We ended up being close hauled with everything sheeted in as tight as possible. We ran across the shipping lanes and it was debatable as to whether or not we would be able to make the Elizabeth River without tacking or starting the engine. We crossed the channel diagonally and were literally skimming along the shallows outside the southern side of the channel. We finally made the turning mark with no room to spare. The now rising tide made the difference for us as it pushed us into Norfolk. As we turned south down the Elizabeth we eased the sails a bit and sailed along at about 5 knots to our anchorage at Hospital Point.

October 26, 2009.

I’ll admit it. It was my fault, completely and totally. I was brash enough to ask the Chesapeake to grant me enough wind to spend the day under sail. I never really expected my wish to be granted so I never mentioned a specific time for when I’d like the wind to pipe up.

When last I wrote we were anchored in the shallows, along the eastern edge of the Chesapeake. We were well away from the shipping lanes. We even intentionally anchored among a slew of crab pots to lessen the chances that a small boat would come blasting through.

We watched a beautiful sunset, had dinner, read awhile and turned in at 2200. At 0237 the wind started just like somebody flipped the wind switch. It was only 10 knots or so at the beginning and I listened to wavelets lapping against the hull. At 0430 the wind was cranking and the seas were starting to build. By 0440 we were dressed and preparing to get underway.

It wasn’t that we were eager to get underway; it’s just that the conditions in our wide open anchorage were starting to get a bit nasty as the winds crested 20 knots. Another non-bonus of our predawn departure would be that we were unable to use the engine. It was pitch black outside and all those crab pot floats were just waiting to be sucked into our prop shaft.

So Christy took the helm while I raised the mainsail. Then the boat sailed forward as I pulled in the anchor chain. After a few moments we were free of the bottom and headed back out to deeper water. We've practiced sailing off the anchor several times in the past and it was nice that we possessed the skill when we needed it. Once we turned south we unrolled most of the genoa.

We found ourselves making 7 knots on a beam reach hour after hour. We encountered one huge ship after another but only had to call one to negotiate a safe passing in the predawn darkness. Yes, I still love the AIS. The waters built to three foot choppy seas but with enough wind in the sails Veranda loped easily down the bay.

After lunch we were in discussion about whether or not we should continue on to Norfolk or not when the wind started to get fluky. We’re very familiar with the anchorage in Norfolk so it wasn’t the proposed after dark arrival that was the issue. The day had been such a good day of sailing that we decided to stop while we still had some wind. Unlike the day before when the wind dying on us had been so frustrating. Not to mention the fact that we had gotten started pretty early.

So after a long but great day we pulled into the anchorage at Jackson Creek in Deltaville, Va. An hour after we dropped the hook our friends the Makeitso's pulled in and anchored beside us.

October 25, 2009.

Chesapeake O’ Chesapeake why hast thou forsaken me O’ Great Chesapeake? I mean WTF?

On Saturday the wind was supposed to be between 15 and 30 knots from the south bringing with it bands of torrential rain. It was supposed to be over by midnight and it was. The forecast couldn’t have been more spot on.

Today was supposed to bring 15 to 20 knots out of the northwest with beautiful skies. I went to bed with sailing terms like “rollicking, boisterous and spirited” dancing in anticipation in my head. We left the dock in time for the 0900 bridge opening. As soon as we were clear of the inner harbor the sails were up and the engine was off.

Our plan was for us to sail the entire bay; today and through the night. It’s a distance of about 125 miles to Norfolk. It can be 3 reasonable days, 2 grueling days or just 1 overnighter. It’s getting a little chilly so we’d like to knock the trip down the bay out of the way in a single day. There are so many crabpot floats in the bay that we won't consider running the engine at night. So its sail or nothing.

We started the day with about 12 knots of breeze coming over the stern from about 9 different directions. We were on port tack, starboard tack and then wing and wing at least a dozen times in the first 2 hours. It was exhausting but we were moving along nicely. But by the time noon came the wind was dying and we were down to 4 knots SOG. Where the hell’s my breeze?

In the spirit of “stick to it ness” we sailed all day. Even as our speed dropped to 2 knots. Finally around 1600 hours the wind absolutely, completely died. We found ourselves still doing about a half a knot as we were swept south by the ebbing tide. The problem with that was that we were actually sideways to the current while being swept south. Not very dignified at all.

The tide started to change and there was a very real danger of us being swept north so we had to bite the bullet, crank up the engine and decide on a spot to drop the hook. Instead of heading a few miles off the Chesapeake to drop the hook in a sheltered spot we just pulled off to the side of the bay and picked a spot. It’s calm as hell as we sit here anchored among a few crab pots.

As they say “Tomorrow is another day”. O’ Great Chesapeake permit us the breeze to sail upon your bountiful waters on the morrow. Please.

October 24, 2009.

This season’s work has ended for Christy and me. Her job ended with the end of the power boat show while mine ran for another week.

It was during this last week that I had the opportunity to work on one of my favorite boats yet. The boat is a Nordhaven trawler in the 60 foot range. I’ve been on a lot bigger boats but this one was really cool. The boat was having an issue with excessive galvanic corrosion.

The unique (to me) thing about this boat was that even though it was a single screw boat it had an auxiliary engine with its own dedicated propeller shaft.

The main engine turned a 3 inch shaft with a propeller of about 3 feet in diameter. The auxiliary engine was a 75 horse engine connected to a shaft with a folding prop much like what you’d find on a sailboat. So he’s just tooling around with this extra engine sitting there in case he ever needs it.

The day I was working in his engine room of course I forgot my camera. The engine room was close to thirty feet long. It has this massive main engine sitting in the center that you can walk completely around while standing upright. Then further aft in one corner was the 75 horsepower auxiliary engine and in the other corner was a giant ass generator. Along one wall of the engine room was a stainless steel tool bench that ended in a fixtured wash basin.

While the size of the room and the sink were nice, what set this engine room apart was the fact that it was freaking carpeted! With all the white paint, the stainless steel and the overhead high intensity lighting the engine room resembled an operating theater more than an engine room. Did I mention that it was CARPETED?

The owner and I were down there tracing a wiring problem and I told him that I’d be serving sundowners down there. It was just that freaking nice.

It turned out that his galvanic isolator had shit the bed. The main prop was horribly pitted and we removed it so it can be either repaired or replaced. We also had to remove all 4 metal props from his bow and stern thrusters as they were severely pitted as well. The main shaft showed evidence of galvanic corrosion as well but the owner opted to risk it rather than replacing his 3 inch, 16 foot prop shaft.

But now that work is done it was time to finish up some small projects on our boat and head south. The fluids are all changed, the generators been tuned, the windlass got a new foot switch, the engine belts have been tightened, diesel and gasoline have been jugged, the new registration stickers have been applied, the water tank has been topped, the V berth has been organized once again and some last minute shopping taken care of.

As of Sunday morning……Veranda has left the building.

October 16, 2009.

The sailboat show ended under sunny skies albeit with a bit of chill in the night air. I took Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off so I could drive to Jersey and see my people. Since Christy had committed to work both of the boat shows she had to remain behind and keep the mad stacks of cash rolling in.

So, I headed north to visit with my Mom, my brother, his family and my eldest boychild. Time went fast and a few good meals were eaten. I did take the time to stray into the new West Marine in town. There used to be 2 West’s in town and they were both closed and replaced by one mega store, Holy crap, what a store. It was my 33rd West Marine and it ranks right behind the store in Fort Lauderdale (which is magnificent and occupies 2 buildings) as the leader in store size and selection.

While I was perusing the aisles of West Marine, our friend Tessa called and asked if I was still in Jersey. It turned out that they had a new fresh water tank manufactured at a place in New Jersey and the company had called and said that the tank was done and ready for shipping. It was literally 20 minutes away, so I picked up the new tank on my way back to Maryland. It seems that things work out better for sailors if there’s no planning involved.

I dropped the new tank off at their marina and got home just in time for the rain to start falling. That was Wednesday at 1400 hours and its still raining at 2200 hours on Friday. The forecast is for rain right through the weekend. While the rain is miserable enough, it’s the temperature that’s been so disappointing.

The high for Thursday and Friday was CHILLY, and the forecast for Saturday and Sunday is in the low forties with the nighttime temps dropping into the high thirties. Talk about a crappy forecast for the powerboat show. I’ve passed it a few times in the last 2 days and the place looks like a ghost town. The show ends on Sunday and the forecast for next week has the temps climbing back up into the 60’s with nothing but sunshine. If there’s a God he must be a sailor.