January 22 26 Five Lay Days in Marathon Zero Miles

Mike and Bev are in the Marathon Community Theater -- operating since 1944!  Well, they have only been in it for seven years; he is an actor and she is lighting crew. We went to their production of "Harvey". Actually, they drove us there. They had to be there early which gave us time for pre-theater dinner at the nearby Cracked Conch Cafe. I pigged out on conch chowder, conch fingers and key lime pie -- and a local beer! If you are going to eat native, go all the way. (ful disclosure: the conch comes in from Turks and Caicos and most key limes are not grown in the Keys.)
Other friends drove us to the local Publix, a little over a mile away, at which we stocked up on everything except Boars Head cold cuts; they sell -- for $3 less per pound than anywhere else -- at the nearby liquor store/deli, where we stocked up. Cab ride back: $4.00
We volunteered to help kids make "projects" out of materials donated by Home Depot, as part of a Family Fun Day at the adjacent municipal park, but the event was cancelled due to adverse weather. It didnt actually rain but threatened and there was a strong wind. We had a mango pancake breakfast on ILENE with Marsha and John, of the Saga 43, "Remora".

Nice folks and we compared our boats; theirs is six years younger and some improvements were made but other good features had been discontinued. They are from Houston and had sailed across the Gulf.
Around noon, the wind came up very strong and our anchor dragged -- a very bad thing in this crowd. We would have gone aground or crashed into other boats (even floating at one knot, ten tons can do a lot of damage to both boats). Luckily we saw it, got the engine and windlass on and Lene steered, I picked up the anchor and we moved to a slightly better location where we dropped again, let out more scope and held while the boat hunted back and forth, getting close, fifty feet, from "Selkie",

an aluminum hull from Cork, Ireland. Selkies captain came over in his dink and we invited his son and daughter, age six and ten (and their parents) over later, to play with our felines.
We were more lucky than a nearby boat, behind us -- facing the wrong way and heeled over -- that dragged into the sandy mud.

 Fortunately, they were afloat again the next morning. We would like to be on a mooring which is more secure against dragging, but no one is leaving until a weather window opens up for the Bahamas.
The daily radio net on VHF channel 68 creates a community among the boaters. It has a section called "Activities": movies,  theater, daily specials at restaurants, archery lessons, bible study, astronomy, meetings on human trafficking, passages to the Bahamas, etc. get announced. I asked whether anyone else sailing with cats wanted to  get together to share stories. But we had to leave our radio and did not get the replies, if any, which were to be shared on Channel 69 after the net. But next day s/v "Mardi Gras", from St. Louis, MO, with Barry and Linda aboard, hailed us while leaving Marathon by yelling, and gave us their phone number, so we could later exchange cat stories. Their stories were about Pearls swim one night when she got distracted while chasing a moth, and the crazy obscure hidden places in Mardi Gras  in which Pearl was able to trap herself. Similar to our cats adventures with variations. Their blog is sailmardigras.blogspot.com. We may see them in Key West or the Tortugas.
Our new pencil holder arrived and is installed. Lene hadnt liked the idea until now. I had thought this would be useful for several

years, to avoid having to open the hinged top of the desk and look under it for a pencil but didnt get one until now.
The movie "Red Dot On The Ocean" a documentary about Matt Rutherford, was shown on a sheet hung at the outdoor Tiki Lounge, next to the main marina building one evening. Matt, who had a troubled past with school, family, substances and the law, sailed an old Vega 27 -- a 27 foot boat -- around the Americas, departing from Little Creek Virginia and returning back there 309 days later, including west through the northwest passage above Canada to the Pacific and around Cape Horn -- (1) alone, (2) without stopping or going ashore and (3) on a short budget. He was met twice by other boats who brought him food and a replacement hand powered water maker. He had essentially no spare parts, sails, etc, and when he got back the boat was filthy and almost everything was broken, except his spirits. The film was highlighted by the presence of its director and producer,

Amy, from "Mary T", on a mooring. Needless to say this movie was appreciated by the audience, including us. Free admission! A real treat.

Technically, we are in Boot Key Harbor, formed by Marathon to the north (on which Route 1, the black line, runs), Boot Key to the South and Vaca Key to the east. We entered between the two red dots in the upper left (The upper one is a green buoy) and motored 1.2 miles east to between R"16" and R"18", shown just below the word "MARATHON."  From here it is a .6 mile dinghy ride, first continuing west and then north to the the land jutting south from Marathon by the buoy "5B". The greenish spot extending just below 5B called PA is a shoaly sea grass area, too shallow for even the dink. Thus, the harbor has room for expansion if people have the money to spend and the Corps of Engineers would permit this large squarish area, perhaps 200 yards on each side, to be dredged.
One morning we dinked through Sisters Creek which is the other entrance to the harbor, for dinghys and boats of up to four feet draft, to visit Sombrero Beach. The Creek is shown on the southern part of the chart and separates Boot key from Vaca Key. The water at the beach was warm enough for barefoot wading but  the air was cool enough for the sweatshirt. When I was in Key West for antisubmarine training in the fall of 1965, the type of seaweed that lines the shore here was made wet by daily rain and rotted in the intense heat, giving off a sulfurous gas that peeled the paint from peoples houses! No such problem here.

The municipal marina is next to the city park where they have tennis courts and shuffleboard courts and equipment and probably lots of other things, available for rent, if you can call it that, because they are free.

Readers may recall my friend Hugh, from my navy days, who sailed with me with his grandson, Levi, in Boston Harbor in early August 2013 and who visited us with Levi in NY in 2014. Learning that we were to be in Marathon through this blog, he put me in touch with his Machetonim (Yiddish word to describe ones childs in-laws), Beverly, who lives here. We contacted her but our first proposed meeting had to be cancelled by us due to excessive wind making the dink ride uncomfortable, and to be here in case of dragging.
We have spent two, non-consecutive days aboard here due to high winds. In the later, our extra scope and the shifting direction of the wind put us in the channel and we were directed to move and did so, to a new spot about .2 miles further from the marina. Our plan calls for us to stay here a few more days.
When I drove to and from Key West in 1965, the keys were largely unpopulated, just a few bars and low budget motels is all I recall. The place has filled in with the rest of Florida.

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December 4 9 Jacksonville to St Augustine and Five Lay Days There 46 8 Miles

Bridges made this passage a long one. JVilles Main Street Bridge had requested advance notice so I called the afternoon before our departure and requested a 7:30 am opening and was told OK. I told other boats who were planning to leave that day and all of us prepared to be underway, near the bridge, before 7:30. But one of the other boats called again in the morning to confirm and was told that they were not allowed to open between 7 and 8:30. If the tender had told me this the day before we would all have left at 7, but we had to hang on the dock for another hour plus.

We did not make it out until 8:30 and hence got a somewhat late start considering the distance. ILENE soon led the way and hoisted the small jib to supplement the engine.  But the tide was again only slightly favorable at the start, growing in speed until the right turn, south, into the ICW. There, of course, the same tide was then against us, for several hours.

The only rough spot in the ICW was at the Salamander Landing Bridge, which was high enough but narrow which channelled the tidal waters to run through it fast against us. Bridges, even modern ones on concrete pillars, tend to block the wind somewhat, thereby reducing the efficiency of the sail. But the biggest cause of the sudden drop of speed from 4.8 to 1 knot in a tight swirly spot was the force of the water rushing past us -- like at Hells Gate. Lene had the helm. She cranked the engine a bit higher than we like to run her, for about two minutes, and the danger was past. Then, it became a race for the Bridge of Lions, that crosses the ICW a few hundred yards north of the St Augustine Municipal Marina, which provides moorings.

I got a wonderful pleasant surprize from my beloved Lene today. She has often criticised me for tweaking the sail trim too often. She had the helm and gave me several suggestions to ease or harden the sheet in response to minor changes of course mandated by curves in the ICW and of wind speeds. And her suggestions were correct. The last vestiges of her claim: "Im not really a sailor!" are now toast!! Lene IS a sailor!

But more than five miles before the Bridge of Lions we figured out that we could not go fast enough to make it to its 4:30 opening, and would have to wait until 5:30. So we slowed down the engine, later took in the sail and eventually turned off the engine to simply float with the tide. But we still got there 35 minutes early and had to motor slowly, away from the bridge to try to maintain an approximately geostationary position against the tidal flow. And we got to our mooring after sunset but before dark. Technically this is called between civil twilight and nautical twilight. Underway from 8:15 to 5:45; a long day.

It is the holiday season in St. Augustine with its Christmas parade, including all sorts of clubs and businesses and every school with either a band or a high powered blast of recorded Christmas music. And the central plaza is lighted extensively. One evening saw the end of the annual "Night Watch". Groups of costumed British, Hessian, Native American and Colonist "reenactors" spent the night partying and then marched to the square to hear a reading of the "Proclamation of Freedom" from the Spanish.

We actually skipped the festivities. Its funny though, there are many Hispanic restaurants in town and most of the downtown streets have names such as Castillo, San Marco, Menendez, Ponce de Leon, Sevilla, Carrera, Valencia, Cordova, Ribiera and Aviles. Though I have been told that they regained these Hispanic names from the Anglican ones in the 1920s to promote tourism.
We have had some good weather hours here, but two of the days were very foggy (as had been one in JVille). Fog is less frequent here than in New England but just as unpleasant. And we also had two days of windstorm, making us happy that we were on a mooring rather than anchor. They are called "northers," and mark the passing of a cold front. This one gave us about 48 hours of 25-30 knot winds from the north. The first day we decided to forego the dink, which would have meant a wet ride, and take the marinas launch in to town, even though its hours are inconvenient -- only at 10, 12, 2, 4, and 6.  But the second day of the wind storm, our plan to leave that day having been adjourned, the launch came out to yell that it was too dangerous for them to take is in. So we had a day aboard for reading, blogging, correspondence and I plotted out the routes and distances of each remaining leg from here to the Dry Tortugas. It was a roly day because the strong north or south flowing tidal currents determine which way the goat faces, but the stong northerly winds, when in opposition to the currect turn the boat so it is not facing the wind, causing it to be rocked by the waves coming at the side.

 Notice boats facing different ways, the one on the right is "pinned" with its mooring ball rubbing at its side rather than out in front

We had breakfast at a Athena, a greek restaurant one day, lunch at O.C. White, an American fish place, another and pizza for dinner on our last night. The lunch was with Dean and Susan of "Autumn Borne" and their friends, Cathy and Earl, from North Carolina, of  s/v "Seeker". The Autumn Borners shared a bottle of wine with me another night,
For all the many folks who have had blueberry and or mango pancakes on ILENE, you have to come back. Why? To try the new and definitely improved sweet potato ones we tried.

Ilene spent quite a bit of time in the laundry room lounge, not just doing laundry, but also watching her TV programs on the excellent wifi -- excellent except that it does not reach the boat, half a mile away. I visited a store that sells used and some new boating stuff. I was looking for a teak pencil holder to attach to the nav station so I wont have to open its desk top to get a pencil. While they had a lot of stuff including lots of teak fixtures, this item was not among them. I did get a set of running lights for the dink to replace the ones that had gone bad. I wish there was such a store in the NY area. Another day I paid $5 for a round trip in a van to a supermarket to get everything on Lenes list.
I also polished and waxed more of the exterior stainless. And with Deans help we overcame a problem with coffee one morning: No propane was flowing to the stove. I checked the fuse, that the tank was full and got out the documentation we have on the Trident propane control and detector system. Dean brought a thermos of hot coffee with him and we continued to try to localize the problem. He took apart the solenoid. The electricity either turns it on to allow the flow of propane from its outside locker to the stove or cuts off that flow when a connected sensor detects a leak in the cabin. Finally we discovered the problem: a butt connector (it joins two wires, end to end, to allow electricity to flow from one through the other) under the galley sink had come loose. A wire was just dangling there. So crimping on a new connector solved the problem. Thanks again Dean, and for the coffee too!
During Lenes marathon sessions with Breaking Bad, I did some sightseeing. Not the fort and the two big former luxury hotels now a museum and a college. We had toured them in 2012. Instead, one afternoon I visited about ten of the many galleries. My favorite was Bouvier Maps and Prints on Avila St., (the oldest street in the US). Im juist a sucker for poring over maps, including expensive antique maps. Mr. Bouvier did not have charts published by the US Navy Hydrographic Office but many others of ports we have sailed in.
I also took the tour of the Hispanic Military Hospital Museum.

The young lady explained that Spanish society had developed much higher standards of certification of medical service providers and, more importantly, sanitation, compared to the British. She attributed this to the influence of the moors in Spain for hundreds of years, for whom hand washing, for example, is a religious obligation. I further attributed it to the influence of Jewish physicians such as Rabbi Moses Mainonides, the personal physician of the moorish ruler, on the moors. I also toured an exhibit in the town hall that, like all the others celebrated Floridas cultural diversity.

Another day I visited the Barracks, now the headquarters of the Florida National Guard with this brilliantly polished brass cannon out front,

the Royal Bakery (disappointingly now simply an auto garage), and the Gonzalez-Alvarez House, reputed to be the oldest, with its coquina (shell limestone) Hispanic first story and a wooden British second story having been added. The docent revealed that in the Victorian period the new owner had added Victorian additions that the Historical Society had removed after it took over the house in 1918. More cultural exhibits, followed by a room of maps of the world and later Florida, from the 16th through the 21st centuries. And there are more historic sites to visit on future stops in St. Augustine.

Actually we had planned only three lay days here and ended with five. The first of the extra days was while the wind howled. The second was also related to the wind. It had kicked up a sort of "storm surge" which raised the water level in the ICW. When we approached the first fixed 65 foot high bridge, about two miles south of the mooring at about 8 am, we took a look at the white board with numbers showing the feet above the water level that the bridge is. The water washed it at 62 feet that morning and our mast is 63.5 feet above the water. So I slammed us into reverse and gave a lot of throttle to overcome our seven knot forward speed and get away from the bridge. And the water was scheduled to rise until 10 am and not get low enough until the afternoon, too late to start a passage of more than 40 miles. So we went back onto our mooring to wait until the next day.

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December 27 to January 1 Lake Sylvia to Cooleys Landing and Five Lay Days in Fort Lauderdale 2 9 Miles

Our short passage from an anchorage east of the ICW to a municipal marina up the New River to its west took place early in the morning, timed for our arrival to coincide at slack tide at our destination, at 7:30. The New is a natural river with deep enough water way up past Cooleys Landing. It has been dredged and is lined by boats on both sides, and very expensive homes. It twists extensively and is narrow. It is because our dock is perpendicular to the shore line that we had to arrive at slack -- to avoid being pushed past the slip by the tidal current at other times. Our slip is at the edge of Fort Lauderdales Riverwalk, with its arts district, close to the intersection of Las Olas Boulevard and Andrews Avenue. These streets divide the town into its four quadrants, NE, etc., i.e., the heart of town. The marina is inexpensive with good showers and wifi; its drawback was the inattentive staff. We got help tying up from a neighboring boat because the staff, who had promised to help us tie up, was no where to be hailed or found, and they did not check us in until the next day. The dock master, Matt, is helpful but his subordinates are not.
Getting here we passed under four bridges, each about a city block apart, which open on request. Well, one is for the railroad and is always open except when a train comes along. We were lucky to arrive on a weekend day because the bridges do not open during designated ninety minute periods at the morning and evening rush hours on weekdays -- and the slack was during that 90 minute period. ILENE is the boat at the left, closest to the bridge, shown at the right. View of the arts center is blocked by the tall condo.

 This next view is from the bridge with ILENE the boat on the right.

The drawback to being so close to The Marshall Bridge, named after the towns first Mayor, is that it opens and closes with a clanging bell and each car that drives across makes a loud noise on the central span which is a metal grate; but this is no worse than the traffic on Broadway and

Fourth Avenue, which serenades us at home -- we city slickers are inured to noise.
The most exciting thing happened one afternoon: the subject of the next days headlines. In addition to the four bridges there is an overhead power cable, stated on the chart to be 80 feet above the water, so of no concern to us. But a sailboat with a 75 foot high mast (or he said it was that high) hit the cable and broke it, with the ends falling into the river and shutting down a good part of the city for several hours until power could be restored. The newspapers reported that there was a loud explosion but we did not hear it. A police boat hovered off our stern, shutting traffic on the river for several hours.
Several of our activities here involved Lenes cousin, Naomi and her family. We had thought to do more with them but Naomi broke her pelvis a few days before we arrived so instead of fun activities we visited her in a Rehabilitation Center a couple of times. Each of her sons, Jeffrey and Alan, and her granddaughter, Carly, who is a Vet student came to the boat, for breakfast, to hang out, and for a trip by dink, a mile and a half further up the New River, to a shipyard where they work on mega yachts.

And this is a mega in transit down the river, with one tug pulling at the bow and another pulling and steering from the stern.

We also took in a performance of the State Ballet of Russia at the Parker Playhouse, a 1000 seat auditorium a cab ride away.

It was Sunday afternoon, with the Dolphins playing so we had a good shot at getting tickets at the door.

The program was excerpts from three Tchaikovsky ballets and the performance was skillful. One dance I had never seen was called the cat dance from the Sleeping Beauty; living with cats we saw how accurately and cutely  the choreographer had mimicked their movements.
Another day involved a trip to the Galleria Mall where the Apple store is, to replace the one Lene droped. We had Apple insurance so it did not cost an arm and a leg. The mall was 3.7 miles away per Mapquest, but after half a mile Lene balked at the walk and we discovered that the Number 40 bus ran from nearby to the mall for 85 cents for a senior. And while there, the food court provided great salads for lunch.

We did some other shopping and were picked up by Dick and Elle, former Harlemites who are selling their trawler and have sold their home in NJ for a home in an over-55 community in Boynton Beach. Dick is a Past Commodore of the Club. We were the first Harlemites to meet Elle when they came into a dock at a marina in Baltimore during May of 2006. Dick and Elle were the first Harlemites to see ILENE afloat. Dinner was at the Bimini Boatyard (more posh than the boatyards in Bimini where we stayed in 2012). They drove us back to the boat and for coffee here. In the summer of 2010 they met me and gave me a list of their favorite places to stay on the ICW, many of which we have now visited. Im very thankful for their help.
Naomi had joked that she was running a parcel service for us, and we took possession of about a dozen boxes: repair parts, cat food, mail from home, etc. And then we stowed it and iustalled the new and larger club burgee to replace the old one which had been whipped into shreds by the wind. Also a replacement dog to fasten down a side opening port. The old one had been tightened by pliers after its bakelite knob broke off about two years ago. It was not until the Annapolis Boat Show that I saw that the ports were made by Hood and ordered a new knob. And while at at, I cleaned and waxed the stainless of the starboard side ports.
Jeff took us to dinner at a local restaurant called Tarpon Bend. While enjoying blackened mahi tacos, I had the pleasure of informing our waitress how her restaurant got its name. She guessed that it was after the tarpon fish, but the first bend on the New River is called Tarpon Bend.
New Years eve was about as non posh as one can get. The number 10 bus took us to a movie theater up on Sunrise Boulevard where we saw The Imitation Game. Not bad but it would have been better if they showed the three sets of scenes: (a) at boarding school in the 1922s, (b) during the war and (c) in the early 50s -- in chronological order instead of slicing them to bits and jumbling them together. My theory is that if your story is good enough, and this one had two stories, one about code breaking and the other about Alan Turings personal relations, you dont need flashbacks. Its sort of like The Love Boat, that TVshow. Each week they had three weak stories about
 relationships among the passengers and crew, but by jumbling them they made it seem more interesting. Down, Roger! Get off that soap box!
Our non posh evening continued after the movie: Dinner at Burger King, bus ride back, walk through the five block long stretch of 2nd Street barricaded and with 20 stands selling beer and bombarded with ultra loud recorded music, in preparation for the throng to watch the ball drop at midnight, and home asleep in our berth from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m.
Our final night here was a family dinner at Islamorada Fish Company with all of Naomis family except, alas, Naomi.

 Carly, Jeff, Mary, Roger and Lene.




A better view of Carly and her three legged rescue dog, Mulligan.

Next stop Miami.

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January 11 15 Five More Lay Days in Coconut Grove 1 5 Miles

We spent four nights at a dock of the Coral Reef YC, after one more rough night on anchor in the John Brennan Channel way off from the Dinner Key Marina. We did not even go ashore the day after the botanical garden trip, because it was so rough. This Google Earth picture shows both locations and the route between them, which is not charted, in the northern half of its brief 1.5 miles. (The dinghy dock is clearly visible in the extreme lower left and the well marked Dinner Key Channel -- through which we entered and will leave -- runs in from below the yellow humanoid figure in the upper right, slightly downward to the left, between two islands. The chart does not indicate and I am not sure which of the islands shown is actually Dinner Key.)

 The white dots, right side lower central are moored boats. They are rather orderly, like grave stones, because mooring fields are generally laid out in an orderly manner. We were anchored to the right of them, off the picture, in the anchorage area, where such orderliness does not exist. Our first anchoring attempt (not enough water) was among the white dots at the extreme lower right corner. The dark blue between these two fields of dots is the John Brennan Channel. To got to the Coral Reef YC we motored (1) to the  left through that well marked channel, (2) south of the lower end of the berm that runs sort of vertically past the end of the seven docks of the Dinner Key YC, (3) turned left to pass between the ends of those docks and the island running to the upper right, and (4) hugging the ends of the smaller docks, toward the upper left where we (5)entered and tied on, facing the shore, between the two shoreward docks extending downward from the "E" shaped dock in the extreme upper left.
 After bringing ILENE to the dock we went to the movies seeing Big Eyes (about an female artist who painted children with emotive big eyes and her emotionally abusive husband) and Inherent Vice (which provided a vehicle for actors to act as trashy people doing trashy things which signified nothing and was a waste of time). And we stopped at Fresh Market for take out food to eat at home, i.e., aboard.
We learned the local mass transit system and used it to visit local cultural attractions. This included the rather new, large and very elegant Perez Art Museum of Miami (PAMM).
The 249 bus took us from two blocks from the YC, about a mile, to the Coconut Grove light rail elevated system station which in turn took us to the People Mover, a free elevated loop in the central downtown area, which left us a block from the museum, of which the Miamians are quite proud, having spent $200 million on its construction in prime real estate next to the new concert hall and the new science museum under construction.

Lene hooked up with the same Rhonda who we had dined with on our first night in Miami Beach and three other women. She viewed the art and had lunch with them. I explored the art myself. It rained a lot early in the day but we had our foulies and did not get very wet. Most of the artists were not known to me and most had some Miami or south Florida connection by birth, education, work, residence or death.They had a large collection of pop art, by name brand artists: Warhol, Lichtenstein, etc. which Lene liked. This seemed old to me. These two works, one inside and one out, are based on geodesic domes.

My favorite was this painting, approximately 5 by 8 feet by my guess, by an African artist. Three zig zag lines, two starting in the upper right and one from the top toward the left define the spaces that are painted in. And the bottom represents more, little triangles that I saw as water in this landscape, though the plackard said it could be a TV static pattern. I spent quite a few minutes intrigued by this one.

Another day we visited Viscaya, the seaside mansion of John Deering of John Deere fame, another Breakers-like home of the rich. This one was built during the portion of WWI before the US went "over there" to end it. Deering was a bachelor and imported fountains and whole rooms of walls and furniture from Europe. Quite lovely actually. The big change here in the last century was the erection of a glass roof to cover and hence seal off the central courtyard onto which all rooms of all three floors open -- to keep out the salt air and rain. This, of course, also necessitated air conditioning. And the gardens are not what they once were. I love these marble floors of theseaside and land entryways:

The gardens are nothing to sneeze at either, and here is one of the fountains with "merboys"  --mermaids with boys instead of girls.

A large stone Venetian barge (a place for guests to recline at ease) was built on a sandbank to protect Vizcayas sea entrance, with me at the extreme left and the towers over Government Cut barely visible on the horizon in the between. A bird walked by unconcerned with his proximity to humans.

One evening some young men strolled past our boat and started up a conversation because they recognized ILENE. Russ and Tom had sailed with my late son-in-law, Julien, and sung his praises and those of my daughter who they asked me to convey their good wishes. Small world.
We spent a pleasant afternoon lounging at the YCs underutilized swimming pool and, after some wine aboard, had a nice dinner at the Yacht Club with Jerry and Louise, who came over from Miami Beach and took us to Publix afterwards so Lene could get some products that the very nearby Fresh Foods does not stock, e.g. frozen blueberries and sugarless peanut butter. We lucked out that this was an all you can eat pasta plus night for only $17.00.  I have yet to learn how to avoid over stuffing myself at such affairs, though. The eighteen percent service charge is added to the bill automatically. This club has lots of helpful friendly staff to serve its 800 members, most of who do not keep boats here. It has fixed concrete piers against which we put up the fender board. The docks are busy by day with contractors and many people in suits apparently use the club day and night as a venue to do business. The only drawback is that on sunny days numerous black birds sit in the rigging and emit the remains of their fruit based diet, staining the deck. I washed it off over and over and will use bleach on the remaining stubborn though by now faint stains.
Another evening we were visited by Janet (who had taken us to the Chihuly exhibit) and another member of Lenes grade school posse, also named Rhonda. Rhonda was in town from New York to visit her Mom. After wine and cheese and a tour of the boat, I had, among other things, a single stone crab leg, my first, a delicacy here, and not as good as other seafood to my taste. This was at the well known but not excessively expensive (except for stone crab legs) Montes, on the water, less than a quarter mile away. Photo to be added. Janet and ?Ed may drive down to Marathon to visit us there, and perhaps to fish, though access to the boat on anchor or mooring will be more difficult for Janet than dockside. Also, yesterdays news about Cuba has started us thinking about getting the charts and cruising guides we will need for such a visit, though our insurer, Pantaenius, has not yet come around on this issue. They have several weeks to do so. Life is very very good.

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August 20 to 29 One Goofed Up Day and Five Day Sails 23 75 Hours

We goofed up one day by believing the weatherman, who had predicted a 90% chance of rain. This was the evening before so Lene called her four high school classmates and adjourned the sail in favor of the rain date in early October. We should have waited until the morning of the day in question to check the weather. By then the prediction was only 15 percent and in fact there was no rain. Oh well; no use crying over unspilt rain. Lene and I went to the Met and saw some great art and this not-so-great but iconic American painting, The Jolly Flatboatmen, by George Caleb Bingham.

Sue and Seth

had won a ride on ILENE at a charity goods and services auction. They brought along his sister Val and her husband Steve. Sue and Seth had won the ride about four years ago and brought their kids that time. This time they also brought a bountiful, delicious and healthy lunch and they are oenophiles so we all had a good time.

We were out there for 5.5 hours, but only in the last did the wind come up, to make sailing fun and they had the joy of helming as we tacked back and forth across Eastchester Bay. The longer part of our time together we sailed at about two knots or motored. I kept complaining about the lack of wind but they were having a ball, just being out on the water.

Next time it was five hours with Peter, who was one of my three companions on the eight day Virginia to Tortola run at the beginning of this blog in November 2010. Best wind since we have gotten home in May. It is getting closer to September when stronger winds come into Long Island Sound. We sailed off the mooring. I started and ended with the small jib but put out the genoa for the long tack which took us about a mile past Matinecock. We were doing over seven knots with a peak of 8.3. On the way back, on the starboard tack, we were overpowered and going a bit slower and so shifted back to the small jib which was plenty in about 18 knots of apparent wind. We tacked our way up Hart Island Sound on the way back. A lovely day.

There were ten Old Salts, including Frank, Morty and Clara with me on ILENE and six others on Ohana. Wind not as strong as the day before but plenty to have a fun sail, deep into Little Neck Bay and thence back and out part-way along Hart Island. Three hours underway. Scenes of merry noshing on ILENEs mooring after the sail.

I had dinner with Mike and Sandy and Morty and Clara at the Alehouse, a very inexpensive restaurant on the island, which features $2 Pabst Blue Ribbons. Lene, who went to a wedding rehearsal event nearby, picked me up for the ride home.

Lene came with me when we took out Stan and Susan, newbie sailors who we visited in Great Barrington last month, and will see again on the Labor Day Weekend. No photo; my bad. They had wanted to spend "a few days" with us on and from Key West, but I think it is best for people who have never sailed before to try a day sail first rather than potentially trap themselves (and us) in an experience that is not everyones cup of tea. And now they want to come for a few days in Maine next summer, which will be great; but they have not yet experienced sailing because we motored essentially all the way, due to very light winds. After the prior two sailing days I had thought that the annual July-August doldrums had ended a bit early, but alas, no significant wind. Stan and Susan, who dont know better yet, were very happy on the water.
I had a moment of horror near the end. Auto was steering and easily, north from off Stepping Stones generally toward our mooring. I had busied myself with coiling the lines and putting the sails away. In other words, I was not looking where we were going. When I finally looked up, I saw where we were  --  we were inside Big Toms triangle and headed for its center. And it was quite a low tide, near the full moon. WOW!  I ran back to the cockpit, grabbed the wheel out of autos hands and spun the boat sharply 180 degrees and got us out of that terrible triangle ASAP. The water was still ten feet deep when this happened but if I had not looked up for a few more seconds, we would have had a hard grounding on unforgiving rock. Pay attention, Captain!
The last hundred yards to our mooring there was less than six feet of water at points, with the depth sounder sounding off as we approached. No harm done. We enjoyed dinner at the Club; Thanks Stan and Susan.

The last of the five sails in this period was with Lene, Sheila, Dee and Jeff. All have sailed before and all except Dee on ILENE.

I picked them each up in Manhattan and again we suffered from the lack of wind, though there was a bit, and it did come up nicely (to 15 knots) for the last of our 5.5 hours off the mooring. As we had done the day before, we went into Manhassett Bay to near Louies. Here is a selfie by Jeff, though not smiling for some reason, because alas, your photographercaptain was asleep at the camera switch. At low tide, with a full moon, the water was only 5 4 deep for the last 100 yards to the mooring so ILENE cut a four inch deep groove in the soft silty mud. Dinner again at the Alehouse before driving our guests to their apartments.

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Nov 1 5 zero miles Five More Laydays in Oriental

We end up spending eight nights here. Thats the way it is in shipyards. It takes longer and costs more than expected.  Deatons however, is a very fine yard. Small but bustling with activity, with friendly competent and helpful staff, free electric which we used to warm the boat through our heat exchanger on the cold nights, and a small lounge with a washer dryer $3.50 per load), good shower, TV and a small desk and sofa. We really became friends with the staff who all cheered the news when Witty was found. John Deaton and his wife, Karen have owned and operated the place with service manager and master teacher Greg, their son Steve, Rita, who was the most helpful about Witty and maybe about 20 -30 other folks.  We had business and they let us fax letters and photocopy others -- no charge.
And despite the gloom of Wittys potential demise, or perhaps because of it (and after his return) work on the boat (and life) went on.
Our friends, Bill and Sando,

saw how ratty looking our small jib sheet had become and gave us a new one, from his old Saga, which had been offered for sale in a consignment store. A very valuable gift. I whipped its new ends when I cut it into two pieces to serve as the sheet and as a line to better secure the dink. Bill also taught me a better placement for the shackle at the clew of the sheet and Lene helped me pull the new line through its under the deck channel with a snake.
 I saw that Oriental has a dealer for AB Inflatable dinghys and scored a valve cover for ours and I used electrical tape to enlarge the washer and thereby make a better fit for the air pump nozzle to inflate our dink. I tried to change the zinc in the refrigerator unit but needed the yards help when the old zinc twisted off in its holder (a new brass holder at $7.50 was a lot cheaper than the labor needed to melt the zinc out of the old one). Lene ordered the electronic versions of Waterways Cruising Guides to the Intercoastal by Mark Doyle. I polished and waxed the stainless steel of the bowsprit and bow pulpit and cleaned out the bilge. This in addition to overseeing/assisting the yards workers who hauled the boat two more times, replaced the lip of the Strong Seal (dripless stuffing box) in an attempt to stop the leak, aligned the prop shaft with the engine by shifting the engine on its mounts, and took ILENE out for a test drive which shows that we have good alignment --but we still have a leak, The cause this time is believed to be a distorted plastic disc bolted with four bolts to the transmission and four more to the shaft. It is plastic so it will shatter to prevent harm to the transmission if we hit something. Our choices were to get a replacement disc, or one of steel to take up the space, or get a new longer propeller shaft so no such spacer would be needed. We chose option A, and it is being sent to friends in Florida for me to try to install there.

But it was not all boat work and Witty worry. We had a tour of Bill and Sandos big new 45 foot dual engine DeFever trawler, named Lucille, like her predecessor, their Saga.

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Bill loves that it has easy access at dock level from the stern, does not have an open fly bridge (which he would not use), and has wide, safe, covered, exterior passageways. He is a perfectionist about his boats, keeping them pristine and making many improvements for comfort, safety and convenience. A minor example of these is the port side rear view mirror shown in the first photograph. M/V Lucille was in Maine this past summer and we hope to join Bill and Sando there in the summer of  16. I continue to very much admire Bills gentle, intelligent advice over the years and Lene says he has the best sense of humor.  He prefers to make longer off-shore passages to get to the desired cruising grounds more quickly, a very useful philosophy as we head south trying to get where it is warm before it gets too cold up here after a delay of a week.

Then, we had drinks and snacks at their lovely spacious modern home, raised about five feet above their lawn, which reaches to to the seawall,
which in turn is five feet more above sea level, with a commanding view of the Neuse River and all the boats that necessarily traverse it on the ICW. All told we enjoyed three dinners out with them, at half the local eateries, "M and Ms," "The Silos" which is built in two connected silos and "Toucan", and two breakfasts with them aboard ILENE.

And I played with the blog and determined that on the ten separate days that we made passages in October since we left Annapolis on October 12, we totaled 351 miles -- compared to the 268 we made in less than 48 hours from the Harlem to Annapolis on October 8-10. We went shopping for groceries several times and took Witty to the vet. Lene has a cold and visited a local emergency medical place and the Walmarts pharmacy. I try to not patronize Walmart whose owners get rich by paying their staff so little that we taxpayers subsidize them through food stamps etc.  But here we shopped at their store which was one of the places that put up a the lost kitty poster.

People in Orient are friendly and honest. The Yard leaves the keys to two of its old vehicles with a signup sheet for use by residents. I put some gas in the tank. I asked the man in the chandlery if I could return the valve cover if it didnt fit. He said: "Dont pay me now: come back and pay me if it fits". When I took our propane tank for a refill, the hardware store man said it was a flat service fee for filling, that the tank seemed 3/4 full and he couldnt charge me $12 for only $3 worth of gas. While walking around on the afternoon after the big storm, I saw folks gathering pecans that had fallen off of trees during the storm. Later I stooped to pick one up and Lee gave me a bag of them from her tree and invited me into her house to meet her husband Billy and their family, who were eating their dinner. They relocated here about a month ago from Orange County, NY. See, it doesnt take long here for the friendliness habit to set in.

I visited the Oriental Historical Museum and took most of one of their walking tours, past the towns historic houses. Oriental was a poor town founded in the late 1870s by hard working fishermen and farmers. This house, with its metal roof, like many of them, was the home of a prominent citizen in its day and is still very well maintained.

Mr. Midyette was the founder. When the post office was established here in the 1870s a name was needed. Mrs. Midyette thought of the steamer "Oriental," which had been wrecked (without loss of life) while carrying people and property for the US government during the Civil War in 1862. This wreck was on the outer banks, about 30 miles from here but Mrs. Midyette suggested the name and it has been so ever since. The name gives rise to the Asian theme including dragons. Here is a view from the middle of Broad Street, also known as Route 55, the main drag, looking west.

 I took a shot looking the other way, which was equally devoid of activity. You can get the idea that traffic jams are the not a big problem in this town. I did not get the full picture when I asked about population. The lovely, dedicated and knowledgeable volunteer at the museum told me it was 750. The Census Bureau reported 900 in 2010. But Im thinking both omitted the people who live in newer larger homes outside, but have Oriental mailing addresses, such as our friends, Bill and Sando. The town still has fishing but its farming gave way to lumber mills which were located where the public dock is now and from which I took this picture of the 1970s era bridge, which replaced the very much narrower wooden bridge of the depression era.
There are several  marinas on this side, the upstream side of the bridge, but not for us, because the bridge height is 55 feet.

 After the mills were shuttered the town was rescued by the boating community. 2700 boats is a lot of boats for what is still a very small town. I believe that much of the money in town nowadays comes from folks who retire here to live with their boats in a moderately warm place.
We plan to stop here again on our return trip back home.

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