December 11 13 Daytona Beach to New Smyrna and Two Lay Days There Only 16 Miles

It took only three hours with a fifteen minute delay at a bridge near our destination that opens only every twenty minutes. Cold but clear with more wind than yesterday so we used only the small jib. We passed the Ponce de Leon Inlet with its distinctive lighthouse by the sea.

There were alternate buoyed routes at two points in this short passage and we took the one officially marked as the "ICW route" which was inland from the light. The last time I was here was crewing on a northbound 74 foot motor yacht, m/v "Sea Leaf," in 2012. Then we stopped at a marina by the light before jumping out into the Atlantic for a romp up to Beaufort NC.
Today we could have gone another 32 miles to Titusville, but we broke the trip there from Daytona into two parts by stopping here because Lene heard or read that New Smyrna is a nice town.  This has emerged as our plan for the winter: We are going south in Florida slowly. We are already in Florida but have several hundred miles to get to the Dry Tortugas, which is as far as one can go in the U.S.  This involves a lot of the ICW because many of the ports are not easily accessible from the sea. The two hops from Lake Worth to Fort Lauderdale and from there to Miami Beach, will be out in the Atlantic, during good weather, because of bridges. There are so many bridges that you have to wait for in the first such hop and a fixed 56 foot bridge in the second that we just can not ever get under. And the trip in the Keys is planned as a mix of inside and outside jumps. Having stopped almost everywhere in Florida on our way south, we plan to skip a lot of these same stops on the way north by going outside. A plan that has sort of come to us and like all plans is waiting to be changed.
Anyway New Smyrna is a very nice cozy well run, friendly municipal marina with good showers but mediocre wifi.

We are at the furthest out slip, which, given how small this place is, was not a disadvantage. In fact it was an advantage because we had a clear unobstructed view of the Christmas Parade of lighted boats on Saturday night from our cockpit. About 20 boats, both power and sail, decked out in vastly colorful lights came up the ICW right past our cockpit. The photos do not do the spectacle justice.
They have a decent history museum here run by the historical society with interesting local artifacts such as the equipment used to cut "cats faces" (shallow "V" shaped slashes) on pine trees to collect the sap to make turpentine. The town got its name from the home town of the founders wife in Greece. The Marina is in the background, two blocks from the museum and between them is a 20 foot high plateau

on which is the ruins of the foundation of either the home that was shelled and burned in a naval bombardment from two US gunboats during the Civil War or a fort. The signage was more directed against vandalism than providing information. The museum has a copy (or original of an affidavit signed by a survivor, after the war, in support of a claim for reparations, asserting that no member of the family lifted arms in support of the Confederacy. I was interested in how the legal form of the affidavit has been relatively unchanged from then to today.
One thing I forgot to report from the museums in St. Augustine is that during the civil war, excluding the native Americans, the total population of Florida was less than 10,000, more than half of them slaves. But you cant believe all you learn in museums: In Fernandina I was told that the original native Americans here were a peaceable and matriarchal society; in St Augustine the story was about the chiefs and the wars between them. Because we can not talk to them directly anymore, each historian draws his or her own conclusions.
The main drag on this half of town, west of the ICW, is called Canal Street,

about six blocks long. We had dinner one night at Yellow Dog Eats on that street, which specializes in variations on pulled pawk. Saturday the street was closed for an antique and classic car show. My friend Jim would have loved the car show. Meticulously maintained and highly shined cars from the 30s through the 70s simply parked on the street, with their owners in lawn chairs nearby to answer questions. Some pride themselves on all original components while others have replaced the interior mechanicals with more powerful and efficient engines.
We took the shuttle bus that picked us up at the far end of Canal Street at Dixie Highway and took us to the beach.

The fare is $0.75 one way for a senior. After a stroll on the beach, we walked the two plus miles back through the main drag of the beach side of town, Flagler Street, and across the bridge that detained us on our passage into town.

Read More..

May 12 13 Last Two Lay Days in Washington No miles

No, not a Maritime Museum. This is one of the fishing boats used by the Danes in WWII to smuggle most of their 7000 Jews into neutral Sweden. It is one of the many artifacts in the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.

I spent a whole day (10 to 5:15) here and did not see it all. Designed of the same beautiful pale yellow stone that is used in most other government buildings in this city, the interior has a long atrium around which the horrible history unfolds, as one starts on the fourth floor and works ones way down. This atrium is glass covered and reminded me of a railroad station  -- such an integral part of the Germans "Final Solution". I have been to such museums in NY, Jerusalem and smaller ones in many other cities but none that were as comprehensive, with a significant slant on US responses before, during and after the war. It showed how gradually Hitler came to power, consolidated his power and set to work first trying to drive the Jews out by making life unbearable and dangerous, then deporting them and finally, exterminating them. One huge wall of etched glass, has the names of the numerous European towns where Jews lived before Hitler, including my fathers birthplace, Untergrombach, middle row, right, with my imagined "RR Station" below.

The place was very crowded with lots of high school kids who were very respectful. I was quite moved by the experience. The museum repeatedly discussed the plight of the Roma (gypsies) and other victims. It also had exhibits on the three post-Holocaust genocides: Cambodias killing fields, the Serbo-Croation conflict and Rwanda. It seems humanity has not learned yet, despite the saying "Never Again! We had lunch in the museums cafe, located in a small building outside the Memorial.
Our final day was for Congress and the Library of Congress. We had planned to visit the adjacent Supreme Court as well. I had to be admitted to its Bar to oppose a Petition for Certiorari  in the late 70s. (Since about 95 to 99 percent of such petitions are denied, winning that one was rather easy.) But our tourism stamina gave out before we got there, which was a shame because Lene has never been there. On our way we passed the Frances Perkins Department of Labor Building.

Ms. Perkins was one of FDRs "brain trust" and the first female Secretary of Labor. She co-taught a seminar in labor history I took at Cornell in about 1964.
In 2008 Congress opened a huge underground entrance, visitors center, "Emancipation Hall," with Museum, gift shops, a large cafeteria and many restrooms to handle the throngs of tourists. We were shown an inspirational movie about how well Congress works, which is somewhat of a joke given todays hyperpartisanship. Leah, our assigned

tour guide was energetic and bright with the kids but the tour did not include either house of the Congress. We easily secured a pass to visit the House, which was in session, but just barely. The person acting as speaker recognized a stream of Representatives who rose to give speeches of up to four minutes. It was mostly women in red suits on the Democratic side and men in blue suits on the other side. Several democrats spoke in favor of refinancing the Highway Trust Fund and opposing yet-another bill to restrict abortion, which the Republicans are addicted to and will undoubtedly pass. The Republicans spoke in favor of the anti-abortion bill and in memory of slain police officers. They all spoke to an almost empty room. The speeches go into the Congressional Record and are fodder for the folks back home. "See how I represented your interests!"
After lunch we visited the Library of Congress through an underground tunnel which avoids having to go through security again. Our first time here.

The entrance hall reminded me of The Hermitage in St. Petersberg, with its staircase, marble, red, statuary and grandeur.










The main reading room is much smaller than the one in NY but more elegant.

A highlight of my stay here was a visit to the Geography and Map division, where I was given access to their collection of nautical charts published by the United States Navys  Hydrographic Office from about 1850 to 1950. The charts are numbered, to about 6500, with some omissions. I have been studying them and cataloging them, as a volunteer in the Map Room of the NY Public Library for about seven years now. They describe the coastlines of the world (excluding the U.S. and the Philippines which are the subject of a similar series of charts published by the Coast Guard. Each branch of the armed forces had its champions in Congress and back in the 19th century they worked out this geographic compromise.)  I had a good conversation with the director of the map room who invited me back. Maybe, by land, some day.

I also saw a German antiquarian map of the world, in Latin, published a few decades after 1492, purchased for $11,000,000 (less than half of it taxpayer dollars), an exhibition of Herblock political cartoons, and a recreation of Thomas Jeffersons circular library of Monticello (he sold it to the government) with mostly his original books. He was a well read man.

Read More..

July 2 to 13 Six Days of Sailing and First Two Nights Aboard

Yes, twelve fun filled active boating days (and two nights) for Lene and me. Six were sailing days which averaged only about 3.35 hours per day, plus a work day and two overnights. Before that, a fireworks party on the 37th floor of Devs apartment, which was great, including the fact that due to the distance from the event, the fireworks were like children should be: seen but not heard.

The first sail in this period was with two of the men from my Book group, Arthur

and Gary, Arthurs wife, Marie Genevieve (the photographer) and Rafael, their son, on his dads lap. This pic, like many others are taken on the launch because your correspondent is too busy sailing the boat to perform his photographic responsibilities, and because the bimini and dodger do too good a job of providing shade, which makes it hard to get good pictures.

So we had the Chief Librarian of a prestigious New York university, an Emmy Award winning Film Editor and a practicing Psychiatrist. They were my friends who have became Lenes friends as well. Marie is the sailor in the bunch, with lots of experience with her father in Europe, and took the helm most of the time, but her husband and son took stints. Rafa steered like a Navy Helmsman, taking orders such as "a little to the right" -- because at eight, he can not yet see over the binnacle.

Next up were four of Lenes friends who have become mine as well. Sheila, MJ, Christine and Heather, all repeat sailors whose pictures are in other posts. We put up less sail than normal and went at a slow stately pace that the guests appreciated. We started with reefed main and small jib but finished without the jib.

Then came Ilenes first sail on Bennett and Harrietts new Beneteau. Lene, as I had been, was quite impressed with the boat. I was able to whip the ends of all of her lines that terminate in the cockpit. Another day, not underway, will be needed to get the other ends of these lines. She has a lot less lines than On Eagles Wings.

A work day to get the top of the Genoa working and mostly sanding the cafe doors for another coat of varnish, which could not be applied because the varnish I had had jelled to a solid. I also got two spare fuel filters - expensive little buggers, which, in their boxes are now aboard in zip lock bags to prevent rust.

For the final three days and two nights of sailing, in addition to the human guests, Whitty and Alpha Girl got reacclimated to the boat. That process was hardly an event; they walked about like they owned the place and tried to get into the cabinet where their food is stored. Cats are smart, especially when their dinner is concerned. Alfie is quite at home inside the aft end of the stack pack, atop the boom, when ILENE is on a mooring. The red and black lines are the first and second reefing lines, respectively.

It is warm and quiet in there. But we have to remember always to make sure we see the little devils before we hoist the sails to avoid crushing them. Our human guests during the first of these three days were Jill and Ken, her boyfriend. She is the kitties Vet and he is a family therapist and soon to be published memoirist. Neither of their expert services were required for this voyage, just the pleasure of their company.

The most remarkable thing about this daysail was the tidal effect of the so called "Super Moon" -- which was full and at the point in its orbit closest to the earth, increasing its magnetic effect on the water. Coming north back toward the mooring we passed what is usually safely east of  Stepping Stones Light. The depth sounders beeping alerted us to the fact that the rocky seabed was only seven feet deep -- 16 inches below the bottom of our keel. I veered sharply to starboard to get further away -- toward deeper water. At high hide that day, the water would have been another eight feet deep. The same low tide problem almost prevented us from getting back to our mooring. Other members of our Club, who had intended to race that Friday evening, had to wait for the tide to rise a bit, being stuck in the mud.  We made a groove in the soft mud bottom for about ten yards of our approach to the mooring; inertia carried us through. Our keel is 5.66 feet deep and the water was only 5.6 feet deep. After dinner at the Club, I took our guests to the subway so they could get home and listened to our Clubs mostly amateur but great sounding six piece rock band playing. But it was already 9:30 and my bed time. A calm cool night.
Next day, after breakfast, our guest was Christine, a frequent sailor with us, here with Whitty.

We had the best sailing of the summer so far. We beat deeply into the south end of Little Neck Bay on eight tacks using Main and small jib, then ran out and through the passage behind Stepping Stones off Kings Point, which required three gybes, and finally turned south into Manhassett Bay to the M.B.Y.C. on a single starboard close reach. Lene had the helm most of the way and has mastered the art of taking advantage of puffs that round us up slightly. Our speed rarely dipped under six knots and on the broad reach we were making eight.
MBYC charges $60 for a mooring and has a lovely big pool. We got there late in the afternoon and lounged on the pools deck. It was not at all crowded and we just read. Later the pool attendant told us that our guest mooring fee did not include use of the pool. Apparently this rule resulted from an experience a few years ago when a boater with twelve souls aboard took a mooring and his guests clogged the swimming lanes. But MBCY has a great guest shower which we did use before an excellent dinner in their restaurant. From the restaurant deck, you see the pool in the foreground, their mooring field in mid ground and a wee bit of the east side of City Island under the setting sun.

Another good nights sleep and a good breakfast aboard before sailing back to the Harlem.









Before casting off, however, I finished the improvements that I had been working on. I hung the wool (or maybe cotton) wall hanging of a stylized sailboat that we got in Finland (dare I call it a tapestry?).  (Sorry about the color and underlined nature of this next paragraph; I didnt intend it and cant get out of it!)  I installed a new block at the base of the mast and a new fifth clutch on the starboard side of the coach roof, next to the other four of them there, so the winch there can handle the outhaul. From now on I can change the tension of the foot of the main sail and thereby trim it better without having to go forward to the mast, laying on my back there, having Lene steer up into the wind and hauling on the outhaul line manually. My only mistake was caused by Lewmar, which provided absolutely zero instructions on how to install their clutch. To release the four existing ones, I lift a lever that swivels up and forward on a pin at the forward end of the clutch. So I installed the new one with the lever moving the same way -- which was backward!!

All the others open one way; this new different one, the other!

In other words, when closed, the clutch did not hold the line when you want to lock it, but it did prevent you from tightening the line. But having done all the drilling and bolt and washer selection and grinding and snakeing of the line needed for the first installation, it took only ten more minutes to detach and reattach the clutch the right way. The clutch is fastened to the coach roof reinforced by strong washers, above this removable panel in the cabin ceiling.

This little job used an enormous number of specialized tools and I confess that I was pleased with myself. Thanks go to my rigger, Jeff Lazar, proprietor of Performance Yacht Management, who encouraged me to do it myself and gave me some helpful hints. He had also told me the size of the Allen stud which I installed myself (And I sorely regret that I did not bring my camera to the top of the mast to gain pictures of our clubhouse and mooring field from an altitude of 63.5 feet above sea level. Lene cranked me up and let me down gently. Another time for that photo.) While working from the top of the mast of a nearby boat Jeff also advised me to possibly shorten the strap at the clew of the Genoa to lower it a bit. The last step on the clutch job will be using a punch that Jeff recommended, and a hammer, to drive out a horizontal athwartship pin embedded in the forward end of the boom on which three thumb cleats rotate. They were used to hold the out haul line and the two reefing lines (red and black, remember) in place. Now, that the third and last of them is led to the cockpit, the thumb cleats are worse than superfluous --  they tend to chew up the lines.
Our sail home on Sunday in the late morning was via the shortest logical route on a variety of port reaches, from broad to close. It rained a bit en-route and with more and heavier  rain forecast for the afternoon,  and my shoulder getting sore from too much sailing, we made a short day of it.

Read More..

HYC Cruise Day 13 August 6 Milford CT to Port Jefferson LI 17 Miles

Alphie Girl is enjoying the day. Tides were favorable in the afternoon so after buying a quart of milk and a postcard for my wonderful grand daughter, ILENE left at 11:45 for a leisurely sail across the Sound, anchoring in the huge anchorage just inside and west of the Port Jeff inlet. North Star had a hankering for "2 for 1" lobster and hence took a mooring at the Setauket YC, near town. They left before us. On our way out we stopped to fuel up and got hailed by Dana on "Frabjous". They will be joining us in Centerport. 

It was a day made for sailing. We had plenty of time to go 17 miles and sailed the distance in light wind. Too often we cruisers have miles to go and do the math to conclude that at the speed over ground that the wind will give us, we cant get from here to there before dark without a motor assist. But today we put up sails before clearing Charles Island and headed south, close hauled on starboard, across the Sound, only about ten degrees off the rhumb line to the way point. Then tacked and sailed over Misery Shoal to the mouth of the inlet. Anchored is 22 feet of water at near high tide with northerlies of only ten knots expected tonight on 80 feet of snubbed chain. But it is near dead calm.

Home cooking tonight and blissful solitude. Attempts to watch the Fox political debate were unsuccessful so we will have to read about it tomorrow. There is room for about a hundred boats here and only three are present, as these sunset photos show.

Read More..

November 13 and 14 Charleston to Tom Point Creek to Beaufort SC 60 6 Miles

Charleston is like New York in at least one way: both were started at the confluence of two rivers, and the point of juncture is a park and called The Battery.

It is surrounded by lovely stately old homes.  But you cant sail by close because a sand spit extends out from the point.

A pretty easy day of it, 9:45 to 3 pm, motoring all the way in the ICW, which was wide and deep. Cold but not unpleasantly. We made a connection with the boat next to us in the Charleston Marina, "Kachina", a Hans Christian 33, with the most beautifully treated teak.

It is sailed by John and Joanna currently from Colorado but originally from Canada and Marthas Vineyard, respectively. We exchanged cell numbers and stayed close to them all day. We had originally selected Steamboat Creek for the midway anchorage to Beaufort, but Lene read about Tom Point Creek after it was recommended by Jim of "Goldie,"

a home made, steel, blue schooner. So the Admiral changed our destination. The two creeks are only about a mile apart.
The only obstacle today was one low bridge that opens every half hour from 9 to 3:30, only about 4.5 miles from the marina. We left when we were ready and the marina had sent a man to help a boat come in, so he stayed and helped us get off. But it was too late for the 10 am opening so we went very slow for the first 4.5 miles and got there in time for the 10:30 opening and still had time to get through Elliot Cut before its very swift tidal flow turned against us at 11:15.  After anchoring,  I lowered the dink and used it as a platform to get some rust stains out and polished some stainless, before being chased inside by the cold. A cold front with stronger winds passed during the period midnight to 2AM, but our anchor held.

Where is Tom Point Creek, you asked? Oh, it flows into the Wadmalaw River. It runs between Stann and Little Britton Islands. Still no help? Well you wont find Tom Point Creek in Google, except for information on the tides there, but it is about 20 feet deep and just wide enough for a single column of boats to anchor, and swing with the tidal change; a strong tidal current runs through it, For the curious, look in Google Earth at 32 degrees, 38.75 minutes North; 80 degrees, 16.86 minutes West.  It is bordered by salt marshes on both sides

and the book said -- and correctly so -- that dolphins swim up the creek, playful looking but looking for food.





In the morning all six of us had mango pancakes before setting off at about 9:30.

Joanne and Jim

Jim and Susan

Both John and Jim are very handy, the former a carpenter and boat builder, the latter a mechanic who built Goldie and who has lived aboard for 40 years. Both are professional delivery captains so they know something about sailing, in fact, a lot!
When we pulled the hook I did the math: with the Ladies Island Bridge, near Beaufort, closed from 4 to 6 and it being dark by six, we needed speed to get to that Bridge, from which is less than 1/4 mile more to the Downtown Marina of Beaufort. We supplemented the engines power with the small jib and trimmed it on every point of sail during the twisting ICW to gain an extra knot or two. We slowed down only in the three "Cuts" between different rivers. The cuts were short but reported to be shallow, though no problem for us today. A passing shrimp boat, its wings out, surrounded by its posse:

 We made the 3 pm opening, with the grace of the kindly bridge tender. The hundred cars and trucks lined up waiting until 3:06 when we passed, may not have thought of her so kindly, though. I think it was Lenes feminine voice that prevailed upon her to wait for us.

We plan to be on docks, here and in Hilton Head, for several days, using dock power to provide heat until the polar vortex goes away.

Read More..

Rhode River to Cambridge and Three Lay Days in Cambridge October 13 17 38 7 Miles

First the passage: The wind was predicted at 5 knots, building to 15, in our face. Not pleasant, but manageable. It came from the predicted direction, a bit east of south, but at  20 to 25 knots and one has to add five to that to account for our boats speed into it!  And with Chesapeake Bay running generally north-south, the wind had time to work up large stiff waves of up to five feet. ILENE was pitching in these waves, some of them breaking over her bow, throwing spray back onto us. And with both these waves and the wind pushing us backwards, we were making only about four knots over the ground -- making for a long day to cover the 34 miles involved.

What to do. We changed course by 35 degrees, with the engine still working at its high speed for continuous use, 2500 rpms, and put out the small jib. Now less pitching, speed up to over six knots and a whole lot of heeling. The Saga owners network is having a discussion of the merits of adding  a ton of extra lead at the bottom of the keel (a sole under the keels foot as it were) and with Lene reporting this was on her "ten worst passages" list, I think the time has finally come to bite the financial bullet and do this -- next winter, when the boat is hauled. I thought of taking photos for you, or video, which could have shown the excitement, but decided to keep the salt water off the iPad, which was in a ziplock bag.

Turning a bit east, into the Choptank River, the wind was 60 to 80 degrees off the starboard bow and our speed was over seven knots with the throttle turned way down.  But this wide but shallow river twists and turns and when we came to a point where tacking in the channel would have been required we elected to furl the small sail and motor the rest of the way.  The trip took seven hours, from 11 to 6.

The landing at a dock in the Cambridge YC was very poor due to Captain Roger forgetting an important rule: always check the wind direction when attempting a landing at a dock. Maybe I was tired -- a reason but not an excuse. Anyway, the wind blew us onto the dock. We should have aimed further away from the dock, stopped and let the wind blow us to the Tee dock. Instead, with some way still on, we crashed our starboard quarter with the dinghy, hanging from its davits athwart the stern and protruding a few inches out past the side of the boat on each side, catching the dinks bow on one of the pilings that support the fixed height dock.  The painter, which is one of three lines used to snug the dinghy to the boat, parted (here reattached and a foot shorter),

and one of the welded aluminum





 padeyes holding up the bow ripped open.

But we landed and enjoyed three days at the YC, though the first of them was rainy.



On the sunny days that followed we enjoyed this view from ILENE of a replica of a screwpile lighthouse at the adjacent marina. I visited our friend, Johns meticulously maintained 28 foot S2, "Hearts Content" there.

 John, a former New Yorker and Harlemite was the best host one could find and our reason for staying in Cambridge. He has many talents in boating and as a mechanic, and he has a whole lot of power tools and the knowledge of how to use them. He rebuilt the interiors of the Plaza hotel and Columbia Universitys Butler Library as well as working for 15 years in NY theater, both on the stage and behind it. A gentleman and a pleasure to be with who put himself at our service. 

He drove us all around the town (population 12,250) showing us where everything was, took us to the post office to mail time sensitive mail, to the hardware store where we got a stainless steel padeye, bolts split washers, to the supermarket, several times, for provisions, to his home where we hacked off the extra length of the 1/2" bolts of the padeye and chamfered the edges, did our laundry and printed out a letter that was on our computer. He lent us one of his cars. He came to the boat and "helped" (lets just say he did the jobs with me as helper/learner/doer of the easy parts). He ground off the remnants of the old aluminum padeye, drilled the 1/2 inch holes for the new bolts

and we attached the new stainless padeye -- stronger than before!

We also replaced the old carburetor with the new one which had been fedexed to his house and he showed me how to adjust the idle and it works again!








We spent our days here with John and actually stayed the fourth night, when it was much calmer, at the wall of the town basin, rent free.

For our stay in the basin, he suggested the creation of the fender board, shown here, which uses two fenders and a hanging board to keep the pilings from harming the boat.

We watched Johns TV. He took us to his favorite restaurants and bar, Leaky Petes, where we had Natty Bos (National Bohemian beer). We tried scrapple, and crab, oyster and fish.









Cambridge is a very sleepy town, which has seen better times, especially its downtown district, which was devastated by suburban stores, fires, the recession and greed. We toured its Arts Center, and visited its Maritime Museum

and the Harriet Tubman Museum, but  the last two were closed.

Here are the kitties exploring a neighboring boat at the YC; maybe they smelled fish.

And I just loved this one, which I call "Still Life with Boat".

On our last day John took us on a long car ride to the southernmost of the three Hoopers Islands, connected by road and only a few feet above sea level, and populated mostly by watermen (crab and oyster harvesters) and their families. These islands were reached after driving through the Blackwater Wildlife Preserve, a huge swampy expanse.  We had lunch at Old Saltys

which has this wonderful view of mainland Maryland, the thin line at the horizon, across the Bay,

where we will be going next. John and I are planning the next leg of the cruise, I wish we could have persuaded him to come along for a few days.

Read More..

Annapolis and the Rhode River October 11 13 11 3 Miles

A study in contrast: Annapolis is a hub of bustling high powered big money sailing activity, especially during the sailboat show, which this year coincided with a big Navy football game and the Columbus Day weekend: the busiest weekend of the year. The Rhode River, where this is being written, is the antithesis of this: no hustle, no bustle, we are on our anchor in complete solitude far from any other boats, after a twelve mile motor passage in light winds on a cold day in varying heavy to light rain. No wind ruffled the waters here last night or this morning..

The Rhode River was also the destination of the first voyage we ever made aboard ILENE -- at the beginning of our first season with her, also from Annapolis to here. But that night, in late April 2006, was a rough one. The wind turned from south to north, putting us close to the lee shore instead of sheltered in its lee and big wind caused waves that clanged our unsnubbed anchor chain against its roller, sounding like someone was taking a sledge hammer to the boats metal bowsprit. Last night, with better weather forecasting, all was calm, and the same lee protected us from the gentle southern winds.

In Annapolis we had breakfast both days at Grumps, discussed in the prior post, with Manu and Michelle, the sailing duo who we met in St. Martin, on several other Caribbean Islands, up the Hudson and in NYC where they have stayed in our apartment and sat our cats. They were staying on a catamaran with Vince but moved to our boat’s aft cabin for our last night in Annapolis before driving their car south to rejoin their boat, “Teepee,” which is on the hard in Florida. Saturday was rainy and drizzly so we stayed aboard for the most part, did a lot of paperwork that we brought from home and took in a movie in the evening.

Sunday we went to the boat show and it is far too big to see in only one day, much less in the five hours I spent there.  I had planned to dink across Back Bay to its north side and then walk for 20 minutes or so to the show. But the dinghy engine was still not fixed and I recalled the mechanic’s voice: "it might still have a problem in its fuel pump". So I hitch hiked and Lene got a ride from Manu and Michelle after they helped her drop off the one-way rental car from NY.  The water taxi brought us back for only $6 per person.

At the show, I boarded only two of the hundred or so boats present: One was the Jeanneau 44 RDS (raised deck salon), similar, I would have thought, to the Jeanneau 43 RDS we saw -- and thought of buying -- when we were at this show in 2005. But not really, because the concept of a RDS has apparently changed in the last nine years. Then, the boat’s cabin’s salon sole was a step or two up, permitting the persons seated at its dining table to look out of wraparound windows on both sides and forward.  The new concept RDS does not raise the sole and the windows, though large, are only on the two sides, not forward. Persons seated at the salon dining table have to stand up to see out. I’m glad we got the Saga.

 The other boat I toured was the Moorings 48, a catamaran: These are immensely popular in the islands but I had never been on one and Lene met a guy who talked up catamarans so I had to take a look. The big advantage is that the tremendous width of the boat means it does not heel much. Each of its two hulls is divided into two cabins, one forward and one aft,  each suitable for two persons and each with its own identical head and shower. The second deck is the living space which is huge -- I’m guessing about 800 square feet. It has a different feel when sailing. And we don’t know enough people to run a four bedroom hotel. I’m so glad we have ILENE!

The bulk of the time was used visiting a few of the hundreds of vendors of things nautical or tangentially nautical. Lene fell in love with extra absorbent thin cotton towels and they will call to see if they have one left in her color. We bought red LED bulbs, a good paring knife, a waterproof pouch for a cellphone and a scrap of navy blue tape to patch up scratches in out boats name lettering as well as polarized UV protectant inexpensive sun glasses. I met Paul, of our Club, a sailmaker at the booth of Doyle, one of perhaps a dozen sailmakers and sales reps for Pantaenius, our insurer.  I met the manager of North Summit Marina, where we went aground. He told me we could pay half price if we stop there on the way back.

The manager of River Dunes Marina, where we stayed on our way back in the spring of 2012, offered us his card with a two nights for the price of one offer.  A south island New Zealand winemaker gave me samples of her Sauvignon Blanc: first her regular fruity and second the premium dryer wine, while another booth offered a sweetened creamed rum.   We got the name and number of customer service for the manufacturer of our side ports to obtain a replacement for a dog for one of them that broke about four years ago. Numerous publishers of magazines, books, charts were present, as well as manufacturers of specialized hardware, clothing fashions and shoes.
But the potentially biggest purchase for us could be a new Rocna anchor, like the one on Pandora. We have been offered the boat show price, about ten percent off, with free shipping. Lene really went for this item which means greater peace of mind when at anchor because of the way it grabs the bottom fast and holds. We have a call in to Pandora’s Bob, to determine the proper size and hence weight and to find out if the pattern for the specially made brackets is available. No trade in because the Rocna has become so popular and highly recommended by impartial sources that no one wants the old ones.

Jim and Ann invited us to a delicious dinner at their apartment and also invited Manu and Michelle as well as Ann’s friend Carolyn. A lovely land base evening spiced with talk of the sea.

Michelle, Manu, Ann and Jim

With help from the mechanic at A&B Yachtsmen, we have ordered a new carburetor to be delivered to us by Fedex, care of John, a former Harlemite who was part of the group that took Nick out of the Hebrew Home for the Aged for a sail during the summer (See Blog).  John lives in Cambridge Maryland, on the eastern Shore, and that town is our next stop, about 34 miles from the Rhode River.

Read More..