Messing About on First Edition

The Push to Get Home

2011-05-02T19:16:00.004-04:00

We left Great Bridge to make the 7:00 lock opening, and with full knowledge of northerly winds on the Chesapeake we continued, nevertheless, for our trip north to Mill Creek. NOAA had promised the day before that although the winds would be 15-20 from the north, they would drop to less than 10 before noon. Today's forecast said the decrease would occur "late", with seas of 3-4 becoming 1-2 by early afternoon. Although the definition of what is "late" is wide open for interpretation, the scholarly sailor would put two and two together and believe that the decreased seas are a function of wind velocity. I guess we failed that course.

The wind never dropped, and duh, neither did the seas. We passed on our back up plan of cutting into Mobjack Bay when we did some math and considered the ten miles in then ten miles out of Mobjack, the odds of our speed remaining at 4.5 knots, and the possibility that "late" would happen soon. Although the seas were rough, we really weren't uncomfortable but it was another long day as we chugged along, sometimes under 3 knots when a big one wallopped us. Twelve hours after departing we pulled into Jackson Creek at Deltaville.

We slept in, being only a few hours from Mill Creek. Once at the dock to take on fuel we ran into Marilyn and Carl on Discovery, and chewed the fat with them for about an hour before taking off. We sailed for a while, then pulled into Mill Creek anxious to see our new home in progress. We found it well along, complete with framing and a roof. A quick walk around was followed by dinner with our neighbors and long time friends, Vickie and Len, who had completed their construction during our winter holiday.

Life is pretty damned good.

The Sad Story of the Girl Without a Dog

2011-05-01T11:48:00.008-04:00

We left Coinjock around 7:15 and enjoyed a lazy transit, recalling our adventures here in prior years, our first in particular. That year, on the first day of our ICW voyage, we happened across a surprise hurricane, Noel, I think, and were unable to find dockage. We created an anchorage by the Pungo Ferry Bridge near the Pungo Marina, where we enjoyed our first cruiser pot luck after the hurricane passed, doing nothing more than driving the water out of the anchorage and forcing a delayed departure. Lots of memories and great fun. This is what cruising is all about, Donna!

Today we had an easy day, taking in the birds flying by, a soaring eagle, no it’s an osprey, no, it’s a great blue.
Here comes a barge around the corner, thankfully we were paying attention, and there’s plenty of room. Only two bridges today with little traffic, but the bridge tenders continue to insist that we “bring it on up or you will miss the opening”. I take their picture, and get a thumbs up. I suppose they are not so bad after all. Now that I notice the TV antenna I wonder if that contributes to the often delayed openings, as they finish their soaps.

We get to Great Bridge and go on through and find space for free docking over night, managing to leave enough space with a little juggling for Veranda, who we hope will make the next bridge and get this spot. I need some Tucker Time.

With an invitation for dinner aboard Veranda, I get the opportunity to get a little closer to their pup. Most people know my canine deprivation, the cause of every disorder and bad day I ever have, but the captain will not relent. No dog for Lynn, boo hoo. And why is it that as of late Peter seems to get all the attention from man’s best friend despite the fact that most poochs know me as The Donut Lady.

As hard as I try, Tucker seems to prefer Peter. I rub his tummy. He loves it, then turns to Peter. I give him a carrot, he loves it, then turns to Peter. It's time to leave, he rushs to say goodbye to Peter. I seem to have lost my touch.

We had a lovely evening with Mr. and Mrs. Magnifico, debating the merits of the various samples of decking we dragged over to their boat to ponder. After a considered debate, I'm now leaning towards Silver Oak, which is also's Bill's favorite. Coincidentally, this is the name of my favorite wine, with that choice shared with the Wise One, perhaps our friend Michael, and my girlfriend Bet. So I think we should go with that decking for that reason.

Long Days, Lots of Wind

2011-04-28T14:29:00.004-04:00

We reached Cedar Creek after leaving Beaufort, and at about 5:50 in the afternoon gave up looking for suitable water to anchor in. We were here last year, but this time, nothing to cover our draft. So we decided to head, instead, to the South River where we have been numerous times. You can't get close to the shore here but there's loads of room to anchor. It could have blown 50 knots and I would not have noticed. I just wanted to sleep. Or rather, have that Manhattan, then get to sleep.

The next day was a puky, almost about to rain kinda day with winds from the south and right on our tail. We sailed most of the way, and kept dodging squalls (luck here, no skill) and were in contact with our friends on Veranda, who ran out of their luck and ripped a sail. We reached the G23 anchorage at the end of the Pungo River around 1:30, and after deciding we were going to go ahead to the Deep Creek anchorage by G43, about 2+ hours ahead, a lighting streak convinced us we would be better off taking a "short" day. No sooner had we set the anchor than the rain started. Many hours later Veranda pulled in, being one of the few friends we have with a sail boat that actually sail, and we exchanged greetings, and agreed to meet the next day at Broad Creek.

Both Captains were at the bow by 7 am as planned, with the radar showing the rain would limp off our course shortly. Our anchor windlass, the mechanism we use to put muscle behind weighing anchor, decided to not work, so Peter had to haul up 66 pounds of anchor plus 100 feet of chain. About 40 minutes later we broke ground and got on our way. We had some nice sailing in the protected waters of the Alligator Pungo Canal, and then got a call from Veranda to let us know that it was really honking once we reached the wide open Alligator River. Holy Toledo! They weren't kidding.
We worked hard at it until we finally decided we needed to reef the main as the wind had piped up to the upper 20's gusting into the 30's. Once we dropped the sail to pass through the Alligator Swing Bridge, we opted for the jib only, and while easier, the seas were picking up in the Albemarle and it too was work. As much as we wanted to head for comfort at Broad Creek with Veranda, we opted to continue on to Coinjock Marina so that Peter would not be forced once again to haul up Buster by hand. I especially was worried about hand hauling should we get caught dragging in monster winds and waves, as were being experienced and expected.

I have one thing to ask: how many times can the Coast Guard repeat a message about a log in the water? Do they actually think it stays where it is? Have they not heard about current? Three days now and the same damned log is being reported. Puh-leeeze.

Vero to Beaufort

2011-04-25T15:49:00.002-04:00

Day One: We leave the Vero Beach mooring field, but pull alongside Solitaire which returned from the Bahamas yesterday, and say a quick hello to Nancy and Jim. It’s 11 am, and of course, we manage to time our exit to put us directly in the teeth of the current. While transiting the inlet, a Coast Guard vessel barrels down on us and we suspect we are in for another boarding. Our Tax Dollars at Work slows down, looks us over, then hard throttles past us, waking us like no power boat has ever done. Hopefully a trainee is at the helm. Three hours later we are out of the Ft. Pierce inlet, and we raise sail, bound for Beaufort, North Carolina, about 500 miles away. A US Customs fast-boat does a 360 around us, and must conclude we don’t look like drug runners, and takes off at about 200 MPH.

It’s 2020, or twenty minutes after eight at night, I am on watch, and there’s not a damned thing wrong with the world right now. There’s 9 knots of wind, and we are sailing along in 2-3 foot seas at 5-6 knots, which I will call an average of 5.5, but that might be a generous estimation. The Captain is sleeping, thankfully, as he would probably be making noises about putting the engine on, while I intend to eke out as many of these good kharma moments as possible. The final minutes of civil twilight have passed and the stars are beginning to come out.

There is something so special about night sailing, and while there are times that I work myself into a dither about overnight cruising, I seem, as of late, to have lost my long standing trepidation, and actually look forward to my first watch. Peter is able to sleep through anything, so is not troubled by the remaining sunlight, and I am hoping that the noise of the engine when I turned it off did not break into his REM. There seems to be no one out here but us chickens. I like it like that.

I finished reading Japanland, A Year in Search of Wa. It only took me half a day to find my harmony.

Day Two: We sail until 10 am when the wind mysteriously goes northeast, and turn on the engine mostly to top off the batteries and finish making water. 337 miles to Beaufort. At 1530 Mooch goes to rest again, and we enjoy a beam reach for 15 hours, making in excess of 8 knots while riding the gulf stream. This evening’s excitement is once again due to Our Tax Dollars at Work. At around 2 in the morning I come across a vessel not showing up on AIS, so I presume it is a shrimper. As I get closer, I can see only a red light and a large mass, so it appears the boat is headed west in front of me, while I am heading north.

But then it stops. Now at this point I am pretty damned close to this thing and all I know is that it is big, and I sure wished I knew for sure where it was headed, then I see red and green. Crap. It’s headed directly as me. So I hail “vessel in approximate position of” and get a comeback that “Warship will head 30 degrees to starboard to avoid sailing vessel”. I wait. This mother just gets bigger. I take the bull by the horns and do a hard starboard turn off the wind. We miss each other while each probably thinking the Captain on the other boat is an idiot. I leave the warship in the dust while hoping that the helmsman is getting her ass chewed out.

During the night I finish reading The Gate Crasher, written by the babe who wrote the Shopaholic Series, perfect overnight watch reading.

Day Three: At 0630 the rollers become larger than the wind speed, never ever a good thing, so on goes the motor with the hopes of stopping the slatting sail and the rolling stomachs…180 miles to go to Beaufort. For the last two days we have been thinking that we need to slow down to make the inlet during day light. What were we thinking? The wind goes light and variable, we lose the stream, and our speed drops to low fives. The flying fish are making better time than we are.
A lonely exhausted bird freeloads on First Edition, and stays aboard for two hours.

What wind there is goes south, and is directly behind us and insufficient to fill the sails. So we motor along all day and night, making between 5 and 6 knots. Around nine at night a parade of big cargo ships comes cruising by, most leaving sufficient room between us to avoid hyperventilation. Except for Northern Jasper. When I contact the vessel the second effort results in a comeback, I inform the Captain that we look kinda close with a CPA (closest point of approach) less than a mile, and I inquire if he sees me. After a hesitation that is long enough to let me know the answer, he acknowledges me and says we look OK. He then proceeds to change course, to go right in front of me. I would have thought this trained expert would have chosen to pass my stern. What an idiot. At least he livened up my watch. I have begun to read The Lion by DeMille, another wonderful author for midnight watches.

Day Four: At 0615 I turn the watch over to Peter with 39 miles to make Beaufort. It is sunny, warm, with no change in wind, so we continue to motor along. At about 20 miles out, we discover we can steer First Edition with Peter’s smartphone, provided all we want to do is go in circles. So all that nonsense about electronic devices on airplanes is not poppycock after all.

At 10 miles out while I sit composing this entry I hear Mooch coughing and run to the cockpit, where the Captain sits, smiles charmingly at me, and continues reading McMurtry’s Comanche Moon. I feel compelled to tell him we are running out of fuel. Honest to God, I really need to get fuel gauges for this man. And a hearing aide.

At around 1300 we hit the inlet (with the current!) and head to Beaufort Docks for fuel. From here we will head off to Cedar Creek for a perfect CC Manhattan and steaks on the grill. A great trip. Happy to have had it, and happy it is over.

Back to and Leaving Vero

2011-04-22T09:44:00.003-04:00

After a week with Aunt Dar, we returned to Vero to a cantankerous outboard engine, a set of shells soaking overboard now covered with barnacles, shells soaking in bleach water now mostly clean, and shells covered with sesame seeds that turned out to be, uh, maggots. So I guess these were not unoccupied after all. Needless to say, most of these situations resulted in a rather foul smelling First Edition, so we opened all the hatches before taking off for dinner with Blue Bay. Dick and Nancy stayed close to airports this year to be nearby to ailing Mom, and instead of cruising, chose to spend the winter working on the boat while on the hard at Riverside Marina. This is the close equivalent to having a tooth pulled. Without novacaine. It was great recalling memories and sharing new stories, and we look forward to cruising with them again.

The next day we ran around town and topped our evening off with Jay and Di and sushi, which the Captain ate with enthusiasm. This is a new Peter Forgosh, finally catching up with his son in trying the formerly unmentionables as possible food sources. He even ate the smoked eel (but before he knew what it was). Apologies to comrade friend John, but after four years Peter has become adventurous and after all, you did get on an airplane this year.

It is now Friday the 22nd. We will spend Easter looking for eggs on the high seas, and in five minutes will head for the Fort Pierce inlet bound for Beaufort, North Carolina, a 90 hour trip. See ya on the other side.

Ocklawaha

2011-04-22T08:32:00.003-04:00

After a few days of reacquainting ourselves with the United States of America, including dinner with the Howells and the Temples, we continued our support for Enterprise Car Rental and took off for parts unknown to most, Ocklawaha, for a visit with family. Here, you can buy a pig or a Whoopie Pie, which we still have not tried, insuring our return.

We were extremely pleased to find my Aunt in good spirits and in as good a shape as we have found her since we have been cruising, thanks to the care provided by my Aunt Beverly, occasionally assisted by neighbor Debbie, and frequently fed by dear friend Nancy, a Canadian snowbird. While there we visited numerous retail stores, and even took Aunt Dar shopping, totally impossible during our last visit, cooked numerous meals for the freezer, and enjoyed the Yankee games with Dar and Uncle Bob. We also gave ourselves a tour of the local cemetary, looking unsuccessfully for Ma Barker's grave, since the infamous shootout occurred here. We stopped by and saw Aunt Anita and Uncle Bill, both looking ageless and chipper. We are thinking Ocklawaha should be renamed The Robbins Nest with so many relatives so named being residents.

Back to the US

2011-04-12T16:38:00.001-04:00

We hosted Celebrian for a farewell dinner at Manjack and sprung the Breyers out of the freezer for homemade apple pie. In exchange for a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread, Rob and Christine agreed to give up the location of the super secret milk conch beach, no longer a secret: located directly across from Manjack on the western shore. The following morning we headed there, and sure enough, loads of pretty little conch partially sanded over, with enough empty so as to not be tempted to haul out the spaghetti pot for a shell boil. We had intended the secret beach to be but the first destination on our lazy cruise of the Northern Abacos. With winds predicted to be mostly easterly less than 10 for the next five days, we hoped to take advantage of this benign weather to explore parts unknown, at least to us.

Our private cruise continued with an evening anchorage at Powell Cay, which we found to yield another endless supply of lightly tinted purple milk conch. Also available during our hunt were mucho West Indian Chanks and a gorgeous candidate for a new conch horn. After a night of a good soak in a bleach mixture, we were rewarded with totally excellent treasures to add to our collection.

Further hopes of shell shopping were dashed the next morning when Parker predicted nothing but north east winds following the harmless cold front on the way. So, we did what we always knew we would do but swore we wouldn’t: cut our tour short and decided to head directly to Vero Beach once we hauled anchor.

And here we are.

Green Turtle Club

2011-04-05T17:00:00.005-04:00

Mr. Parker continued to insist that squalls with wind to 70 knots and west winds would ruin our day, so we took to a marina, only the second time in four years here in the Bahamas. We got our reservation in early so that we could play around before heading into White Sound at Green Turtle, which we prefer to do on a rising tide one hour before high. Despite our call made well in advance to the Green Turtle Club, we got stuck in a slip without a finger pier or enough water for First Edition around low tide. So, if you come here, specify exactly what you want---I don’t know if that will help, but it won’t hurt.

For the month of April both the Green Turtle Club and the Bluff House offer “dining for dockage”. At the GTC, this means any money you spend on food or booze will be applied to your dockage bill. It’s a good deal, as the food here is quite decent, and the dockage is $1.95/foot.

We splashed Free Bird and had a paddle around White Sound. We continue to be impressed with our inflatable kayak, and the quality of the West Marine product seems good.

We dropped $30 for 3 drinks at happy hour so the offset dollars go pretty quickly. We had a great dinner, I had mahi and Peter had filet mignon and at the end of the night we had wiped out our dockage bill for one day.

There’s a great little gift shop here and I managed to walk away with a glass fishing float and a treasure for Willow’s Christmas stocking. If I were cruising next year I would have been able to add some fashion to my wardrobe as well.

Around the Whale to Manjack

2011-04-04T11:11:00.007-04:00

Conditions at Marsh Harbor took a turn for the worse when forest fires ran rampant from whatever direction the wind was coming from. Several mornings we awoke to dense fog, but worse than Maine fog or Block Island fog, this fog was smoke fog, choking, eye-tearing, soot depositing all over the boats kinda fog. The day after we took a good soaking from rain showers it got even worse, it was a damp smoke fog. That’s when we decided the Whale must be passable. The Parker predicted swells amounted to nothing more than very slight rollers, and with a calm wind, there were many boats going both directions. The Baker’s Bay golf course is now lining the Bay, with verdant manicured greens and sparkling sand traps. The old cruise ship buoys continue to provide confusing navigational aids, many now rusted off down to the waterline.

We found Rob and Christine loaded down with every imaginable shell collected from the unfrequented western shores across from Green Turtle and Manjack, where they rode out the strong westerlies with great comfort, despite the absence of any anchor signs on the Explorer Charts. Imagine that. We hooked up (sic) at the northern tip of Manjack and quickly took off for the ocean reefs which we were able to snorkel with no difficulty in the calm winds. We searched unsuccessfully for shells (of course, Celebrian had been here for a week) but I added handsomely to my sea urchin collection. Yes, I collect them too.
The next day we headed to Crab Cay, where we unpackaged our inflatable two person kayak, purchased for the bargain basement price of $189 from West Marine thanks to our affiliation with The Wise One. Of course, it needed to be named, first Yellow Bird, quickly changed to Free Bird---although not original, it captures the essence of her purpose: hopefully we will never again be stranded without the ability to get to shore should the outboard give up the ghost.

Yeah, It's Almost Time

2011-03-31T15:18:00.004-04:00

We have been sitting here in Marsh Harbor for way too long. I don’t like it here. The longer we stay, the more I just want to go home. Enough of the beautiful sunsets foretelling signs of nasty weather.

We had planned on a leisurely exit from the Abacos, lots of time at Manjack, up by the Nunjack Rocks, perhaps a visit to Double Breasted, Allans Pensacola, and Powell. The longer the winds blow from the west, the shorter our time will be for our final hunting for shells and sea glass, and now, being March 31st, the lobster season will be over, so my hunter won’t get a final shot at the Bahamian crayfish. We had been thinking we could get out of here Saturday, but now Parker tells us there will be a big swell from the NW, making the Whale passage potentially hazardous. So, we sit, and we wait.

It’s time to go home anyhow. The framing has started on the house. We have run out of the Crystal Lite that I had collected over five winters at home, when I could purchase this easy to store beverage for $1.99, $2 off its summer price tag. When one of my fellow First Aid Squad members gave me some samples of Gillette’s shaving cartridges, I thought surely it was a life time supply---they’re all gone too. I’m reading Facebook entries from cruising friends back in the States, with envy. I’ve waterlogged my camera, and I’m nearly dry on Benefiber, which has contributed to a season of a clog-free toilet. There’s only one $20 phone card left, and my aunt is worried that the Japan tsunami will repeat and is going to sweep us away. I miss my rheumatologist.

When the boat Va Bene put out a call to the harbor for cleaning cartridges for their watermaker, which turned out to be the same as ours, we volunteered to provide them. It was only after the offer was made that we realized it was our last set. Well, we have lots of big kharma “owe-sies” out there for the prop from Synergy, and the ungrounding from Endorphins. Va Bene gifted a bottle of wine to replace the Opus One we gave Chris and Marsha, this one cleverly labeled if not as well aged.

Can't replace the donated cartridges here, have to go home to get em.

Yeah, it’s almost time.

Doing it All with Beth

2011-03-29T09:24:00.006-04:00

Beth probably preferred to lay out and soak in the rays, but I had fashioned a whirlwind tour of the Abacos during her stay. After a restful night at Matt Lowe’s Cay, we had a half hour sail over to Hopetown to catch the tide.
We joined Linda, Rick, Hannah and Jimmy, the Sojourner crew, for lunch at Harborside, took the obligatory walk up the lighthouse, and then Beth and Peter took a dip in the beautiful waters of the Bahamas.

Around noon the next day we headed to Man O War despite some wrong-way winds. It is such an interesting comparison to see the hard working folk of this settlement after visiting the transplanted party crowd at Hopetown.
We stopped by Lola’s for bread and conch batter and a little chat, then moved First Edition to anchor off Garden Cay for some SW protection and charter party anchoring entertainment.

As we had hoped, wind and seas settled down by the next morning and we headed to Fowl Cay for a good snorkel, spotting turtles and a ray with a remora hitching a ride and a fantastic variety of multicolored fish. Because no visit to the Abacos is complete without a Nipper Juice, we hopped over to Guana for lunch and a demonstration by the highly hormoned college break girls hitting on the well heeled fishermen older than their fathers.

We had a vigorous sail over to Marsh where the next morning we lunched at Curlytails before loading Beth into a taxi to head back home. Every visit from Beth is too short, and to make it worse, usually signals the time to head home ourselves.

Marsh Harbor and the Arrival of Beth

2011-03-27T14:49:00.001-04:00

From Treasure we headed to the armpit of the Abacos, Marsh Harbor. Although you can find 360 protection here, when a front approaches, a scazillion boats head here, put out insufficient scope because it is so crowded, and deep spots are few. But if you like loud music for bedtime accompaniment, you can usually find it here. There are positives, though, like Maxwells, a US style and only slightly more expensive grocery store, and an airport, into which Beth arrives!!!

The Abacos Net is often broadcast from here, at 0815 on channel 68. Barometer Bob provides a weather report, the local enterprises provide their promises, and there is an open mike session for questions and notices of arrivals and departures. It does go on and on, but it is worth a listen.

Beth arrived on time, accompanied by perfect weather, lots of mail, American flags, a new port fan, and licorice for Dad. We are so excited we cannot breathe, and cannot wait to show her all the sites in the Abacos during her too short visit.

Christine and Rob hosted us for hamburgers on her arrival, at the anchorage at Matt Lowe’s, a pretty spot and pretty decent for the SW winds coming in. We walked the private beach, finding abundant tellins, sea biscuits, and a variety of small shells. No one came to chase us, although signs on shore suggested it could have happened.

Treasure Cay

2011-03-25T17:55:00.004-04:00

We decided to sit out the next of the Bahamian blows at Treasure Cay, the home of one of the world’s ten best beaches according to Travel and Leisure Magazine. During this visit we found the powdery sand, previously groomed to high standards, displaying the unusual-for-here high tide line of dead seaweed, improving the odds for a shell or two. But as in the past, nada.

The previously available mooring have mostly been removed, and those remaining are private. We wedged our way in an already overcrowded anchorage and paid our $10 anchoring fee, for which you get internet, laundry, shower, and pool privileges. A deal as far as we are concerned.

The fantastic market was open this Sunday until at least 1:00, although the bakery was closed. Laundry tokens are $4 each for wash and dry, or you can pay $8 a load for drop off service, with only a tip added for avoiding the self service. We took diesel on the way out at the fuel dock, open from 8 til 1, then 2 to 5, for $5.25 a gallon, but all the water you can take on for free, although we had expected to pay $8 as we had been advised. You must move into the marina dock to take on water if that is all that you require.

Social activities were great, having happy hour with Charisma, a Hylas sister boat, with Steven and Denise, and dinner aboard First Edition with Alan and Gerry from Civil Twilight and the Celebrian crew the next evening.

We entered at high and left at mid tide, and saw no less than 7 ½ feet mid tide.

Be prepared to have many neighbors packed in here, but the holding is great.

Great Guana Cay

2011-03-23T14:37:00.008-04:00

For years we have listened to the Abacos Net (channel 68 at 8:15), and during the “invitation” segment, could barely hear some one from Seaside Village Resort on Guana Cay reporting in with their menu. We decided to finally try them for lunch, seeking out new anchorages to explore. The apparently very successful Bakers Bay development, where for only $550 you can play a round of golf, carts, shoes, and clubs provided, has acquired Seaside as shelter for their staff, so no lunch for us.

Chatting with the employees, we garnered permission to cut through their yard to access the beach and found abundant sea glass and flamingo tongues (a shell), and came away with some treasures.

After enjoying a spectacular full moon ushering in Spring in the Bahamas, the following day we hiked through several less than thriving residential developments and had a long walk, enjoying the bonkers collections and brightly painted homes.
Lunch was at Nippers, the home of toxic Nipper Juice, decent island food, and copious flies swarming over your meal until sterno is placed on the table, miraculously chasing them away to cooler climes.

Back to the Abacos

2011-03-21T14:24:00.003-04:00

We have a lot of confidence in our Weather Guy, Chris Parker, who each morning except Sundays transmits a synopsis of the weather and the characteristics of the weather in the Bahamas, by region. For a reasonable fee, we have become Sponsors, which entitles us to ask specific questions about the weather or our routing during his broadcasts, which we listen to on SSB 4045 at 0630. We find Chris to be conservative, and if he says it will blow 25, we can count on low 20’s but rarely 25. So, we generally subtract slight margin.

Well, he must have overdosed on his flu medication when he gave the forecast for the day of our ocean crossing from Eleuthera to Little Harbor in the Abacos. We were expecting 10 knots, dropping to 6, but had upper teens on a beat most of the way. The predicted comfortable 4 foot rollers with a ten second interval were hurling at 6 to 8 feet every 4-5 seconds. So we spent over 9 hours speeding over seven knots, occasionally hitting into the low 8’s, and staying put in the cockpit. We had a cleansing gentle rain as we put down the anchor near Lynyard Cay.

The next day we managed to spend my birthday snorkeling Sandy Cay Sea Park, a wonderful gift that finally became available after three years of trying. Calm seas provided excellent visibility, only to find what once must have been a beautiful reef, but now, had turned brown and lifeless. Colorful fish were not abundant, but six spotted rays drifted elegantly by, providing sufficient exhilaration for the outing.

Celebrian provided a splendid birthday dinner accompanied by an unusual conch bowl fashioned by Robare, the artist. (This work of art may be seen at our future home on Mill Creek, and a purchase can be arranged through the writer.)

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, Chapter Two

2011-03-20T13:37:00.006-04:00

After leaving Rock Sound we anchored first at Alabaster Cay, where we found the holding to be very good, despite the chart indications of a poor bottom. We found nothing at all on the beach to add to our several odd collections. Next day, to the Glass Window, as if we hadn’t gotten enough of this on our car ride, but Celebrian and Peter wanted to visit. So, I sat it out at a beach where I came away with an interesting piece of sea glass and that was it. My companions spent what seemed like hours looking at, under, and around the bridge creating the Glass Window, documented previously in this blog.

The next day was our big journey to Current Cut, where we can never seem to get the current predicted with confidence, but always manage to hit it right. It has been our experience that one cannot approach the Cut going west head on but instead must parallel the coast of Current Island on the approach. Even with this route, we often found water shallow enough to start our hearts pounding.

As we were following this tried-and-true route, we saw Endorphins headed right for the cut, and since they draw 6’6”, we expected them to stop suddenly. Celebrian had already breezed on through on “our” track so we stuck with it, and promptly ran hard aground. After several minutes of digging our way deeper into the shallows without any progress, Endorphins called and volunteered to anchor and come back and help us, as their dink carries a 30 HP engine and might provide enough power for the assist. We hated to inconvenience them, but they were quite willing, and we were quite stuck.

On their arrival we tried the easy stuff first, towing from the bow, towing from the stern…not moving an inch. Chris suggested we attach a spare halyard (both our sails being up) to their dinghy, and once this was accomplished, First Edition moved quickly out of her shallow lodging. Very quickly, like a bat out of hell, like a sling shot, like really, really fast. Dumped our benefactors right out of their dinghy, yes we did, designer sunglasses, favorite hats, and submersible but not floatable handheld included.

Of course the helmsman, moi, did not have any idea of that horrible outcome, with my eyes fixed alternatively on the catamaran coming down on us and the depthsounder showing that we were headed to another grounding. The captain started yelling to put it into neutral, he being unaware of the nearby ironshore, the catamaran, the depth, or the currents running toward the scary shore. Lots of F words were exchanged between the crew, as the Good Samaritans drifted swiftly away. Once I became aware, I did note that we were dragging a slightly airborne dinghy from the halyard, as the Captain dispatched our dink to make the rescue and I successfully avoided a collision with the dumb-ass catamaran and the ground below us.

It was a Manhattan evening, shared with Endorphins and Celebrian. As our hand held with its dead battery was identical to the submerged VHF now the property of Neptune and formerly belonging to Endorphins (who smartly carried a spare battery) we passed ours along to the Samaritans, along with a bottle of ’92 Opus One to thank them for their valiant rescue.

So, if you happen to see First Edition aground, please come to our aid. We have learned a lot from this experience, and we just might have another good bottle of vino aboard.

2011-03-18T18:11:00.003-04:00

Most of the boats moved to the Northwest corner of the Rock Sound harbor to get protection from the cold front coming through, and we were fortunate to be anchored beside Endorphins, a 48 foot Tayana carrying Chris and Marsha. Endorphins hails from Annapolis and is one gorgeous gal. One of the biggest mistakes you can make as a boat owner is getting on a boat bigger than yours, but I did come away with some excellent decorating ideas for First Edition when she begins her refit over the upcoming year. We enjoyed happy hour aboard Endorphins along with Celebrian, and are happy to consider Chris and Marsha new friends.

The next day we headed back to the town anchorage, and while reading the mail (listening to some one else’s conversation on the VHF radio), discovered that 9 people on 2 boats were planning a meal at Rose’s, a native who serves a buffet style typical Bahamian meal. The cool part of Rose’s is the atmosphere, you enter her restaurant which is in an old house, with sand covering the floors, and a hodge podge of junk that has washed up on her beach. She has a million dollar view waterfront property on which I failed yet again to find a Mary’s Bean.

The Mary’s Bean is a very rare seed, slightly oval and bearing a mark that some see as a cross (thus, named after the Virgin Mary). This bean is said to bring safe childbirth to its owner, and fertility as well. I have desperately been seeking this bean to pass on to my daughter in law, but time is running out. After four years, still no Mary’s Bean.

While at Rose’s I planted a number of heart beans which I hoped would have been found by the teenage girls on Sheet Music, which organized the dinner. Instead, their good ole Dad found one, leaving the others to be found by future hunters unless washed off to sea.

Rose serves a good meal and the coldest beer in the Abacos (being stored in her freezer), but for the second time we found the buffet to be a little skimpy. Rose does come out and volunteer to cook some more when the servings run dry, but by that time you are thinking of getting home before sailor’s midnight. Nevertheless, it is worth a visit and Rose needs help to continue to pay the tuition of her daughter studying at the London School of Economics.

Touring Eleuthera

2011-03-12T13:37:00.008-05:00

We were the only boat leaving Black Point, perhaps because no one wanted to buck the big current coming against us in Dotham (adverse 2.5 knots at 7 am with a high tide at the Wide Opening around 9:30). Winds were exactly as Parker had predicted, 12 knots from NE, so we managed to eke out a decent sail at least for part of the day. We arrived at Powell Point at 1400 and then faced the 17 knot wind on our nose for the next couple of hours, anchoring across from the dinghy dock at Four Points Restaurant at 1640. Since many boats were anchored here we figured there must be a free internet signal around and sure enough, a connection could be had in the wee hours, enough for a blog update.

We decided to rent a car and while tying up the dinghy George from Majors Taxi and Car Rental approached us with the offer of a car for $60, $15 cheaper than Dingle’s. If you don’t mind a little dirt on the floor, you can reach George at 242-554-6344 for a rental.

We had a nice pizza lunch in Palmetto Point (the settlement by Pineapple Cays where we first met Jay and Di four years ago) and had our next stop in Governor’s Harbor, where we decided to walk the Atlantic beach for treasures. We asked a local where the beach access could be found, and he volunteered his path, which turned out to lead through the old Club Med. This former resort was shell shocked by a hurricane several years ago and apparently taken over by something called French Leave.
Abandoned again, it retains its regal beauty and pink beaches but you will not find a damned thing to take home with you here, other than nice photos.

We decided we were going to drive to Gregorytown to see the Glass Window, a rock formation where the Bight of Eleuthera meets the Atlantic Ocean, with the Queen’s Highway continuing over a bridge over top. Having been told this was 50 minutes from Rock Sound, it seemed like we drove for hours (well, at least well over an hour) to gaze upon the ferocious waters of the Atlantic mating with the Sound. Don’t bother with this, sail past it, and read all about the various souls washed off the bridge during rogue waves and nor’easters in Pavlidis’ On and Off the Beaten Path. Take the time to shell along the beaches of the Sound along the way instead. Eleuthera is the best location we know of to find milk conch, some totally white, some with a strong purple hue and perhaps not milk conch at all.

The next day we continued, this time South, through several impoverished settlements.
We picked up two hitchhikers who wanted to get to a food market to provision, but asked to be dropped at a liquor store instead, perhaps opting for a liquid lunch. Next came Michael, who asked if we could buy him a meal, and sucker that I am, we agreed, and set to driving him to town. During the short drive Michael, stinking to high heavens and carrying an empty bucket and a machete, explained all he wanted was rice, and $5 to buy some oil to make a fire, and God Bless You M’aam. I suggested Michael might want to get that $5 from some one else, and after I ran in and bought the rice and handed it to him, he left without a thanks. I am sure is still looking for that oil money, or has found another generous idiot who actually thinks you make a fire with oil.

We stumbled across the New Port Mouth Lodge and although it looked welcoming, we could find no one to explain its philosophy. They probably spend their time sitting around and putting backward in their pockets.

Short Stop in the Central Exumas

2011-03-11T08:31:00.002-05:00

We were one of the few boats that departed Georgetown on Sunday, with most being scaredy cats about the big swells. I was feeling very feline as we were coming through Conch Cut, watching the breakers and counting the time between the rollers coming in, looking more like 6 seconds than 9 to me. Parker at least got the 8 feet right. Except for the one boat calling out “Anybody catching any fish on the Sound?” the VHF was quiet. I wasn’t thinking of fishing. I was thinking of barfing.

A short while later the seas and our stomachs settled a bit so we put out a line. My previously placed order for mahi or yellow fin was repeated. With the exception of numerous well-winded flying fish and a shark that we snagged, First Edition saw no seafood during the voyage.

We ran a great current into Dotham Cut (with Low Tide at the Wide Opening at 1409, we experienced a two + favorable current at around 1445) and we headed for Sampson, where there were 12 boats anchored. The most we had seen previously was maybe six. I went online and bought 24 hours of internet from Exuma Wi Fi, made a few phone calls, and caught up on emails.

The next day we puttered around while I did more internet work, and then refueled at Sampson. While there a woman approached us and told us she had worked our boat while it was in charter in the Virgins, and we chatted a bit about the Jachneys and the size of the hole in the water that First Edition had become since purchase.

We proceeded on to Black Point where Ida at Rockside Laundry greeted us like long lost family, did three loads of laundry, and pondered whether or not we had any “backward” in our pockets.

Before leaving the Exumas, we decided to put together a happy hour with a bunch of people whom we knew, some only sort-a. Nancy and Jim on Solitaire are “old friends” (we met them last year), Robin and Corbett from Cookie Monster are boaters from NJ that for two years we have kept running into but never spent quality time with, and Ginny and Jesse of Wind Dust we had met at a pot luck at Green Turtle last year and became Facebook friends with but hardly knew. It was a good group with lots of yummy nibblies, great laughs and many good friendships in the making. We treated ourselves to one of Nancy’s recently published cookbooks, as we served Bev’s dates stuffed with parmesan and walnuts, a huge hit. Every one is staying put tomorrow, as First Edition heads off to Eleuthera.

Frigoboat Repairs

2011-03-07T10:41:00.000-05:00

Many of my blog followers have absolutely no interest in the Frigoboat refrigeration system, although they have been forced to wade through numerous entries over the last two and a half years as we have dealt with it. I write this treatise for those who have this system or who might be considering the purchase. Others can move on.

In the Spring of 2008 upon the recommendation of numerous Hylas owners, we acquired two separate Frigoboat units, one to run the freezer and the other the refrigerator, with a box dedicated to each unit. The installation was done by a fella who was highly recommended, but not a “refrigeration guy”--- the procedure is supposed to be a no-brainer for those of you more mechanically inclined than us so we doubt that this was the cause of our woes. Although we had frequent mishaps with the frig, a weird wiring snafu was the cause so we cannot fault Frigoboat. But the freezer has caused us to spend several thousands of dollars and lost cruising time.

Immediately upon launching after installation, the freezer would run hard, reaching its set temperature for only minutes in a 24 hour period, and set at 12 degrees usually ran in the upper teens. Trips back to the installer and to our nearby location by him did not turn up any solutions, although several things were tried. Eventually we were directed to go to Annapolis to visit the distributor, Rob Warren of Veco, Inc. Mr. Warren would see us only in a slip, and was not available for several days upon our arrival.

He reviewed the equipment and installation and found no serious faults, suggesting we had an insulation issue. At his recommendation we hired J Gordon to move the thermostat, without any effect. By this time our hopes of getting to Maine for the summer were dashed.

We returned to Zahnisers in Solomons, where we have found we have received excellent service. Zahnisers does not have a dedicated refrigeration guy, but Chuck their top-notch electrician reviewed the insulation and found it adequate. He did not like the noise the evaporator plates were generating, and suggested we evacuate the refrigerant. Once done, the unit performed as advertised.

This lasted for about a year and a half until the compressor failed to chill but continued to run while we were in the Bahamas. After a shut down period of an hour or so, the unit returned to functionality and continued to operate well until we returned to the States. A repeat of this problem became weekly, then daily, as we worked our way up the coast. We exchanged emails with Frigoboat who immediately identified the problem as debris or water in the system, and directed us to J Gordon in Annapolis. While there, J Gordon installed a filter dryer that they found had cured the problem which they had observed numerous times.

After leaving Annapolis the hard running compressor failing to reach set temp condition continued, with the compressor now shutting down frequently and restarting after it cooled. More communication with Frigoboat resulted in their blaming J Gordon for installing the incorrect filter dryer (despite their earlier recommendation). Frigoboat would accept no responsibility for the labor or material cost for this wasted exercise.
Frigoboat now directed us to go to Washburns. Once we had made those arrangements, we asked the technician, Chip, to contact Frigoboat. The repair was discussed and carried out as Frigoboat directed, and Frigoboat did supply the new filter dryer at no charge to us.

As of this writing, all seems to be working fine, although the compressor does seem to shutdown if it has been working hard, say, when a large amount of room-temperature food is placed in the freezer. It restarts without any intervention on our part.

For the record, we love our Frigoboat system. Our refrigeration is set at 42.5 and nothing spoils before we use it. Our freezer is set at 10 degrees, and everything is rock solid, including ice cream. But, if you consider Frigoboat, we recommend the following:

1. Insist upon the installation of a filter dryer with each unit. There is a kit available, suggesting the frequency of our problem.
2. Before undertaking any repair, be sure the technician speaks directly with Rob Warren or Courtney, a knowledgeable Veco technician, to detail the procedure to be undertaken.
3. Consider a spill-over system (one compressor with a fan installed for the frig box) to save money. Everyone we talk to with this installation can still freeze ice cream and what could be a better goal?

Georgetown

2011-03-07T10:30:00.002-05:00

We spent several days at Georgetown, just in time for the Cruisers’ Regatta. This is fun for some, and annoying to others, and regardless of which category you fall in, you would have been stuck here due to strong winds. We had an extension of our time to say our goodbyes to Bob and Bev, and shared a few cocktails and lunches at St. Francis---yummy mahi-mahi over Caesar Salad every single time. More phone calls from the technological epicenter of Georgetown, the best bargain in the Bahamas. We finally got to experience the Two Turtles Inn, which had been closed for the last three years; we had a decent lunch and free internet. Having received favorable results on my blood test, I was able to welcome Bob’s niece Emily and Bev’s son Brian with a Manhattan aboard Savage Son.

As for the Cruisers’ Regatta: enough already.

Back to Long Island

2011-03-03T15:16:00.007-05:00

Having found Paradise, it was with great regret that we left the Jumentos. Having reached Long Island, we are now officially on the homeward bound leg. While we are both anxious to see our home in progress, we have had the most incredible adventure this year, and don't want it to stop.

While in Thompson Bay we repeated the usual pasttimes, guests on board for dinners, , buffet at Trifina's, laundry and lunches at the Long Island Breeze, and dinner at Chez Pierre's where we officially inducted Mike from the Breeze as The Restauranteur to the Entourage. Sadly, we said goodbye to Judy and Greg on My Destiny, Karen and Chris on Synergy,and Jay and Di on Far Niente, while joining Savage Son on the way to Georgetown. Hopefully we will catch Celebrian in Eleuthera before picking Beth up in Marsh Harbor.

We are now in Georgetown where the Cruiser's Regatta is in full swing. It's not for us, but not much is. We are spoiled, having seen Paradise.

Full Moon Party

2011-02-23T13:08:00.005-05:00

The Full Moon Party, February 18th, was a grill-out with the fishermen on Lady J providing the fried fish and the cruisers bringing their own meat and a dish to pass, the last get-together for First Edition with the Jumento gang. And we were really just getting to know the regulars, Stanley and Randy, the fishermen, Kokomo the Ketch and Kokomo the Trawler, Lucky Touch, Fooling Around, Blue Jacket, all a good group of folks, and like us, vagabonds living the dream. We love it here. We will be back.

We can’t wait.

On The Mend

2011-02-23T12:07:00.008-05:00

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

2011-02-22T16:24:00.003-05:00

A couple of entries ago I documented the gifting of the lucky thong decorated with one of our wishbones to Bob for his birthday. Years ago I attached a wishbone to the mast belowdecks, and each Thanksgiving I replaced it. Two years ago I broke the new wishbone as I was inserting it into the bungee cords holding the old wishbone, an eagle’s feather, a never-used fishing rod, and two bike helmets, purchased after the unfortunate collision I had with the daughter of Annapolis’ most powerful lawyer. I convinced myself that I needed to leave the old wishbone, because it could be that a broken wishbone did not have the same protective powers. This year, while having Thanksgiving with Jay and Di, I dug the wishbone out of their turkey and claimed it as my own. But when attaching it to the mast under the bungee cords with all the other crap, I thought it also might not have protective powers for ME, since it was really Jay and Di’s wishbone. So, until the gifting, I had 3 wishbones assuring good luck to the crew of First Edition.

Since Bob’s birthday, I took a nasty fall on the razor rock on the Oceanside of Hog Cay where I was collecting sea glass. Every once in a while a piece of razor rock will come loose from its larger self, becoming unsuitable for walking upon. The fall resulted in a very large bruise to the copious fat located on the side of my left thigh, several small abrasions on leg, elbow, and hand, and a dramatic scrape on my left knee, where several inches of skin were removed to expose the second layer of the body’s largest organ, which remained white as snow for several long seconds until copious bleeding began. Being out on a walk, we had no first aid supplies on hand, so when we finally arrived back to the dinghy I was a bloody mess.

Yesterday, following a cocktail consensus reached the prior night, The Group decided to move to Raccoon to assist in the search for Danny, an elderly deaf dog who took off during a potluck ashore in chase of one of the several goat herds residing here in the Jumentos. Danny had been missing for two days, and as cruisers like to do, we figured we needed to rise to the occasion and help out. Danny’s owner suggested everyone wear long jeans and a long sleeved shirt, and eye protection, as the bramble was thick and hard to blaze. It was 90 degrees. This was not going to be easy. As one of our friends dinghied by us, I noted to them that they weren’t wearing protective clothing, to which I was informed they were covered by their righteousness.

This Good Samaritan act was a bitch. It felt like 120 degrees, with no breeze. The brush was so thick we had to hack our way through with our bodies, not having a machete or hedge clippers available for necessary pruning. We climbed (yes, Raccoon is steep) for over an hour when we decided to turn back for more water, as we were almost dry. We saw lots of goat poop and a small herd, but none of Danny’s hair which we had been told should be clinging to the underbrush if he had passed by. With only 300 yards or so to go until we hit the clearance, I took a spill. This one was a lot more serious than the last. While I did not lose consciousness, I did lose a bit of my recollective abilities, and I was unable to stand. Blood was everywhere, but I had no idea where most of it was coming from. I did know that I had a deep hole inside my mouth, thanks to the explorative inclination of my tongue and the vast quantity of blood I needed to expectorate at frequent intervals. Our handheld VHF’s batteries had gone dead, so we were unable to call for help.

I was unable to get up to move when Peter declared that he had cut a short distance ahead to reach the clearance. I became faint, my pulse raced to 160, and I started to hyperventilate. This was not a pretty sight. I lay on the razor rock for over a half hour until I announced I was ready to give it another try to get out. Fortunately, the last stretch took no more than another half hour, and we waved down friends who were speeding by in the dinghy to contact a doctor friend and take me directly to his boat.

I am so freaking lucky. Not only was the doctor in, two ER docs from Johns Hopkin were nearby and came on board as soon as I arrived. The medical team all agreed I needed stitches in my face, and my very expert friend quickly numbed me up and completed the surgery. I could have lost an eye (I hit my orbital bone) or chipped a tooth, or even worse, a veneered tooth. Instead, I will be eating soft foods and applying ice for several days. I guess I have no future in modeling.
I plan for this to be a delayed post until I am better and can show a photo documenting my recovery. No worries, mon. We still love this crazy, crazy vagabond life we have chosen.

Oh, I called my friend with the wishbone. It is back aboard First Edition. And Danny is still out chasing goats, on Raccoon Cay or in heaven.

Snorkelling

2011-02-07T11:31:00.010-05:00

We left Celebrian and Synergy to head to Raccoon, in search of more hunting opportunities and other friends. Upon our arrival, Veranda announced that afternoon’s activity, a co-ed snorkel for shells and lobster. I knew I had to get in the water sooner or later.

Having lost my camera overboard as it slipped from my pocket (the second in this manner I embarrassingly admit), we loaned our underwater case to Christy and Bill who took some masterful shots during our outing. Judy and Christy pointed out millions of tellins and sand dollars, and I dove for only a few, having no bag to collect them in. The Savages found yet another emperor helmet, their second of the season. I had not even heard of them before their first discovery.

While snorkeling the shoreline, Bill pointed out a lobster to Peter. Trying to spear anything in front of Bill is sort of like being the first to tee off at a golf outing in front of a massive crowd of professionals, and, accordingly, Peter took many, many shots before he bagged his first of the day. Not too much time passed before he found his own and speared him. OK, that takes care of dinner.

Lobster and the Birthday Thong

2011-02-07T10:37:00.008-05:00

One of the reasons folks enjoy the Jumentos so much is the fabulous hunting. While some use fishing rods and dinghy around for their catch, most spear fish or spear lobster. Peter has tried his hand during many runs, and was usually the only hunter returning empty handed. Everyone had their tips for him and various recommendations on different methods. He tried borrowing spears which appeared better than his. He talked to all the successful guys, and finally one took pity on him. Steve on Fine Lion promised him if he came out with him he would catch lobster. So yesterday morning the first lesson was arranged for.

Peter hardly sleeps the night before the lesson. Finally, dawn breaks, and Peter is suited up hours before the planned departure, which eventually arrives. We get to the secret diving hole (more protected than the holy grail) and Steve jumps in the water, and tells Peter, there is lobster here waiting for you. Peter swims over, while I dinghy around and look for sharks. I worry that Peter will spear Steve. Fortunately he doesn’t. But he doesn’t spear anything despite Steve continually pointing directly at the target. After what seems like hours, we move to a different reef.

Steve jumps in the water. He tells Peter they are posing for him. Peter swims over, while I continue to dinghy around and look for sharks, and worry about what is getting speared. Once again, Peter successfully misses Steve but does not hit lobster. We move.

Steve says something like “the Rockettes are lined up”. Peter jumps in the water. I look for sharks. Peter shoots. Steve’s arm raises up from the water with a clenched fist signifying victory. Peter breaks through the water, with the world’s smallest lobster ever clinging for dear life on his spear. But plastered on Peter’s face is the biggest, proudest smile. My hero.

Steve has the patience of Job. And a new title: The Professor.

That afternoon when we arrived at the school lunch, word had already travelled and perfect strangers were congratulating Peter on his success. While all the back slapping was going on, all the food was consumed, so we had a long wait for one of the local women to prepare some baked chicken at her home. Accompanied by Junkanoo champagne and Heineken, the usual good time was had by all. And a picture of the victorious lobster-shrimp spearing master had made its rounds.

On Day Two of successful hunting Peter snagged three lobsters, one slightly larger than his first catch, the second and third constituting the motherload. Every one hunting had a great day, so Savage Son decided to host a lobster grillfest, attended by us and The Professor and his wife, Steve and Kim from Fine Lion. While at Savage Son we took note of all of their lucky talismen, just in time to create an idea for Bob’s birthday the following day.

A friend from Florida, who is a big girl and proud of it, hangs a teeny weeny thong from her clothesline when she does laundry, and everyone gets a big laugh. So I asked my stepmom to pick me up a thong to hang on our lifelines. That joke now having been played out, we sacrificed the thong for Bob’s birthday present, and I sewed on one of our several wishbones, First Edition’s lucky charms.
So in addition to Synergy’s 18 pound catch shared for dinner, everyone had a good chuckle.

Coco Bay and Hog Cay

2011-02-07T10:30:00.005-05:00

As planned, with the winds settling down and moving to the east, we said a temporary good-bye to The Group and hauled anchor to sail south with our old friends on Celebrian. For the last three years we have sailed a good part of each winter with Rob and Christine, so we were happy to reconnect and catch up on our exploits over the off-season when they return home to their cottage on Lake Huron. As Celebrian approached South Side, we joined up with them for a short ride to Coco Bay, which is uncharted for the most part. Fortunately, it was a sunny day so the coral heads and a vast reef were obvious. We nestled fairly close up to the beach and dinghied ashore for some mutual affection.

We had a good walk along the beach, with little traffic coming this way we had hoped for some good sea treasures. Of course, Rob and Christine found most of them, snagging a beautiful hawk wing conch and other goodies. We at least had good exercise and conversation but failed to find a trail to the east side near Lovers Leap, where Kim from Fine Lion told me I would find gobs of sea glass. An adventure for another day.

The following morning we awoke to the rolling seas we had experienced for a good part of the night and decided to abandon Coco and head to Hog Cay. Hog is the epicenter of activity for cruisers in the Jumentos, and no sooner had we had the anchor down than Bill from Veranda approached bearing gifts for my collections--- sea glass for my chandelier, in the design stage, shells for my craft project, a tellin-bordered mirror, and sand dollars for my Christmas tree. What a treasure trove!

Here in the Jumentos heart beans lay all over the place. No one even bothers to bend over to collect them. I, being an addict, cannot help myself and gathered a pile which I plan to sift through, keeping the really good ones for Willow to share next Valentine’s Day with her classmates, and dumping the others in the waters of the Abacos where so many first-timer cruisers go. I remember how thrilled I was to be given my first bean, and I have tried to continue the tradition when I am travelling with newcomers. Maybe some of this bag full will find their way to somebody starting their collection.

Hog is a great place to be for any east component wind. We anchored in the Southern most anchorage, and were very comfortable in 18 knots of wind. You can get closer to shore for less fetch in the Northern Hog anchorage, where the waters seemed flat as a pancake despite the hefty breezes. There are several trails, leading to the ocean where heart beans are a dime a dozen, and a long, long walk on a trail that will remain unidentified will, at low tide, uncover mounds of sea glass. I hope one of these days to time it right.

2011-01-27T16:38:00.002-05:00

We spent several days at South Side Bay, aptly named as it is found on the southern most island, Little Ragged. After several beach walks, I collected about 30 heart beans and 10 hamburgers, half a bag full of tellins, and some additions to the Spirit Tree we will create at our new home in Virginia. The Bahamians are a pious folk, it seems most go to some sort of church and public places are usually closed on Sundays. But it does seem some of the African practices remain, such as Obeah, kinda like a voodoo observance. Outside many homes you will find various objects, usually fishing floats of glass, plastic or styrofoam hung from a tree to please or protect from the spirit world. Our friends on Celebrian started one at their home in Canada, and for the last years I have admired their “bonker” collection, as they refer to it. So, much to the Captain’s chagrin, we have started our own this year, filling the space previously allocated to Willow’s Gracie, the very large Junkanoo turtle that travelled with us all winter in 2010.

Anchored at South Side, you can reach Duncan Town, the only town in the Jumentos, where you can find an internet signal at the All Ages School, which opens its lunch room to the cruisers in exchange for a hoped-for donation. You can also find Maxine’s, where you can purchase yellow broccoli, some good looking grapefruit, or, you might want to place an order by Sunday for mailboat delivery on Wednesday. A pepper, two tomatoes, and three grapefruit summed up to $11.50, and a bag of grapes was $7.50.

The best part of Duncan Town is the “wild” life to be found. Goats are everywhere, and perhaps constitute the occasional dinner, as might the pigs. We were surprised to see peacocks, but not quite as taken back as this goat who thought he would make a new friend. We saw one car, and one truck, this driven by Marvin who gave us a ride two times. Marvin is the son of Percy, the owner of the now shut-down restaurant with a DC-3 mounted on its roof.

The big social event for us here at South Side was the dinghy drift, arranged for one of those warm, calm nights with a full moon. We met the folks on Sam the Skull and Nighthawk, and reconnected with Fine Lion and Sapphire, as well as The Group. Di’s Brownies, Karen’s date bites, and Far Niente’s port were passed. Without being under the influence, I demonstrated the fine art of walking from one dink to another, and upon my return trip, lost my footing and took an unplanned for dip, taking my captain along. I was happy to have provided the evening’s entertainment, as I struggled to regain entry to the dinghy in my little sun dress. Thankfully I wore matching underpants.

Raccoon Cay and The Passing of Molly

2011-01-22T14:51:00.001-05:00

After leaving Flamingo we thought we would head to Buena Vista and catch up with The Group the next day. But on our way we got a call from Far Niente, inviting us to a lobster fest. Unusual since Jay doesn’t hunt. How wrong we were! It seems Jay was walking along the shore and Judy spotted a rather large crustacean roaming the coast. Jay, always on the ready with his trail-blazing machete, whacked the critter to its end. Perhaps it was always destined to become Lobster Risotto. So, not wanting to miss out on the fun we headed to Raccoon Cay.

Dinner ashore was fantastic, bordering on Chez Pierre quality. Di’s Risotto was matched up with Bev’s coleslaw, Greg and Judy’s Cold Corn Casserole, and Karen’s and my Greek Salad. A real treat was seeing Veranda, joining us with lobster chunks served with butter from several of the 40 lobster they have caught so far this year.

We awoke the next morning with two sets of bad news, a cold front approaching with westerly component winds, and Molly, one of Veranda’s doggies, having suffered an apparent stroke. There are few places to hide from westerlies, and no vets in the Jumentos (no human docs either unless they are on boats) so we hauled our butts to the South Side anchorage on Little Ragged, and sat most of the day listening to poor Christy reaching out for any one with veterinary supplies to ease Molly’s way. The next day Christy announced Molly’s passing and told us how they had buried her on a hillside with beautiful vistas where Molly used to chase the goats. By the end of her call, we were all teary eyes and although I have not known Christy a long time, I just wanted to be there and hold her. We never forget our animals, and I am hopeful that Molly is racing around with my guys Bay and Gundy, and Enzo from The Art of Racing in the Rain. If you haven’t read this book, do yourself a favor, buy it now or come borrow it from me after Celebrian has finished it. It is a tribute to Molly and all of our animals that have passed before us.

Flamingo Cay

2011-01-20T11:37:00.005-05:00

Ahh….the Jumentos. We have had this 55 mile island chain on our Bucket List for two years now, and have finally made it. It is everything we had heard, and perhaps a little more. We left Thompson Bay on Long Island at 6:15 in order to take the Comer Channel on a rising tide. We never saw less than 7 feet, arriving at the first western anchorage on Flamingo, Two Palms at 1500. Our unofficial “guidebook” provided by John and Sandy on Moonstruck advised this anchorage would hold 4 boats, and we managed to be the last of seven to arrive, laying down almost too close for comfort on top of Savage Son and alongside Synergy, but with their blessing. It was shortly thereafter that our Manny, our lobster-bearing fisherman provided us with dinner (see prior post).

The next day all but one of the other boats took off, and we decided to stay to walk the island and retrieve some tellins that Di on Far Niente told us awaited us ashore. We collected a small bucket full, a good harvest, and proceeded to enjoy a hardy walk over to the Oceanside by locating a path to the left of the Two Palms. We found a very pretty beach with hardly a thing on it, with the exception of a sunken seaplane with its various parts scattered along the shoreline. After lunch we dinghied over to the next anchorage South of us, found the path which we shared with several blue tailed lizard and curlytails, and walked up to the tower for great views of the surrounding area.

Scratching Each Others' Backs

2011-01-20T11:30:00.003-05:00

There is an understanding among cruisers that if something goes wrong, everyone will pitch in, and like BP, make things right. We need each other. We each have our own strengths and talents, and if some one needs what you have, you are duty bound, no, make that eager, to lend a hand.

So when Karen on Synergy was telling us that she is a dud at making bread, Bev from Savage Son invited her over one morning for a lesson and some chewing of the fat. Bev had recently finished hemming a denim romper I purchased as a bargain and eventually figured out why. (In the eighth grade another girlfriend completed my sewing assignment, a lilac colored bandstand skirt with a double row of buttons—I never quite got the hang of the whole sewing machine thing.)

Over Christmas we were in Pipe Creek when our anchor rode wrapped around our keel during a frontal passage, and Bill on Veranda (several years our junior) volunteered to dive in and untangle the rats’ nest during the twilight hour. Peter, being a strong swimmer, carried out the underwater mission himself, but man, what an offer. In Long Island when we discovered our outboard prop had a failed bushing (thanks to some locals who diagnosed the problem but had no way to fix it), our call out resulted in Synergy advising us they had a spare, identical to the one we needed. This was big. It’s one thing to volunteer expertise; it’s another to give up a $100 spare that you can’t replace yourself for any amount of money without a significant delay while waiting for the mailboat to arrive with the slight possibility that the part actually made in on board. Greg from My Destiny straightened us out when I could not make an internet connection, and I heard him talking to Chris on Synergy when his computer went rogue.

Upon our arrival at Flamingo Cay in the Jumento’s, where there is NOTHING but beautiful beaches, loads of fish, and some very limited provisioning about two days from here, we heard a fisherman calling out desperately for a pack of cigarettes. When no one answered, and he repeated his plea, I let him know that all of the boats anchored in the cove were non smokers, but that Wanderer, anchored at Water Cay (a few hours away) might be a candidate. Shortly thereafter, he motored up to First Edition bearing a “thank you anyway” offering: eight lobster tails! In exchange, we offered up a six pack of beer and a few DVD’s, which Manny returned in the morning.

We decided to share our lobster bounty with Synergy as a thank you for their generosity in providing a prop, and Karen then offered to make us dinner, a delectable lobster al fredo.
This is a grand life we live. And our backs never itch.

The Long Island Breeze

2011-01-15T13:34:00.006-05:00

The Long Island Breeze Resort at Salt Pond on Thompson Bay was opened by Mike and Jackie four years ago, just in time for our first visit to the island. The Breeze has a feel like crisp, clean cotton on a summer’s night, with pastel colors and artwork, swaying palms, and an outdoor bar and swimming pool. Another destination where unfried food can be obtained, the meals are splendid, bountiful, and reasonable. You can actually get a diet soda here as well. Currently, the Breeze is open for dinner Thursday through Sunday, closed on Mondays, and lunches Tuesday through Sunday. Try the Philly Cheese Steak with homemade French fries, or a hamburger so big that I could not finish it. You can also get sexy meals like fettucine with crawfish, or flat iron steak. It’s all good.

Mike conducts a net around 8:30 on VHF channel 18, providing news, weather, events, an open mike session, and funny tidbits. The Breeze also has very functional washers and driers at $4 for each, a large swap library and showers available. Oh, and of course, internet, fax at $2 a page, and a phone available for calls home for 50 cents a minute. Cottage rooms are available for $75/night. The Breeze hosts frequent potlucks, providing a great atmosphere along with their conch fritters.

Our first year here Mike regaled us with stories of what it was like to build in the Bahamas, and break into this closed community, reminiscent of Wouk’s Don’t Stop the Carnival. We hoped their grand plans would become reality, and each year have continued to watch their business taking baby steps towards their goal. The Breeze is a cruiser’s dream, and we encourage everyone to support these nice people. Once there, you will likely be back every day.

Chez Pierre's on Long Island in the Bahamas

2011-01-13T12:30:00.004-05:00

You don’t go to the Bahamas to find fine dining. Everything is fried. And you rarely can find fish on the menu---go figure. But you can get all the nice, greasy ribs you want, and usually, deep fried chicken wings. The meal is rounded out with mounds of carbs: peas and rice, mac and cheese, potato salad.

Oh wait! Visit Long Island, where you can enjoy a really terrific Italian meal cooked by a rather colorful Frenchman, at Chez Pierre. There is a prominent sign for the restaurant on the Queens Highway heading North from Thompson Bay, but there are many twists and turns on the side road leading in---good luck finding it. But the Veal Limone (you must pronounce this lee-mo-NAY when you place your order) is, to borrow a phrase, to die for. Cut your veal with your fork and sop up the delectable sauce (perhaps a hint of cognac?) with the fresh bread. But precede this with the Baked Olives and Caesar Salad. And bring your wallet. You can even get a cappuccino with their homemade ice cream, unless they don’t have it when you are there.

Combine this meal with a cocktail prepared by yourself at their bar, or a bottle or five of their mediocre but drinkable wine, add several of your pals who all cram into a small SUV conveniently available for the evening and you will have rip-roaring time. Especially on the ride home.

Thompson Bay, Long Island

2011-01-12T12:06:00.009-05:00

We travelled with Savage Son on one of those perfect days to Salt Pond at Thompson Bay, where we reconnected with Far Niente and My Destiny. We spend a lot of time here at the LI Breeze which offers great food and better yet, the only internet signal around. Unfortunately we have to dinghy in to use it but beggars cannot be choosers.

There are over 20 boats here this trip, which is the most on any of our visits here. Fortunately for us, Traphina, the owner of Club Thompson Bay, hosted a buffet soon after our arrival, and it seemed that every boater in the harbor attended.
It has been a rough couple of years for the Bahamians with the US economy situation as fewer boaters are coming to the Bahamas, and even fewer are dining out. And Club Thompson Bay, which used to be THE place here, has been usurped by the Breeze, with their up scale dining and that internet signal.
Traphina pulled out all the stops, delivering lobster, grouper, and chicken (although all served up fried as is the custom in the Bahamas), potato salad, peas and rice, cole slaw, fritters, and ribs. These dinner get togethers are always a great time to meet new people and share a couple of Kaliks. The ride home in the dark is usually interesting.

We have finalized our choice of builder, negotiated and agreed on the contract, and set up payment arrangements, all while sitting here at the Long Island Breeze. Willow is so excited to hear that Grammie and Aye-Aye will be close by.

I think I am too.

The Art of Negotiation

2011-01-07T08:53:00.005-05:00

As already recorded, we spent New Year’s Eve at Georgetown, and here it is seven days later and we are still here. We have passed the time waiting for a good window to get to Long Island by hiking up Monument Beach, dining at St. Francis and Peace and Plenty, shelling (not terrific here), but mostly, finalizing the last pre-construction phase of our new home: selecting a builder.

We received the bids by e-mail, fortunately at a time when we had a good strong signal. Sorting through the detail was somewhat like translating the Rosetta Stone, each had their own way to deliver the same conclusion, the incredibly large amount of money these guys want to build our little cottage by the sea. We get the feeling that our snowbound builders find it hard to negotiate with two vagabonds sitting in 80 degree weather and sunshine, living the life of Riley.

Although negotiating is something we have both done all of our careers, I have conceded this responsibility to Peter, one of America’s Top Lawyers, as with this designation on his resume he clearly is better at it than I am. Negotiating is difficult when you are not face-to-face. In fact, here in the Bahamas, where the cell phone cost is about $1 a minute to the States, it is difficult telephonically as well, as the costs mount up quickly and the reception is spotty. Using Skype is frowned upon (too many folks using the same internet signal) and not reliable anyhow, unless you are good at filling in every other word you can hear with what you think the other person is saying. Not advised during the negotiating process.

That’s where J&K comes in. This high-tech company serving the cruising community provides the latest mode of communication: a regular telephone that you can some how pay only 15 cents a minute for. J&K clearly reinvests their profits in capital improvements.
Guard service is provided by a local potcake tied to a fence on a short tether. (A potcake is a “wild” mongrel that you find all over the Bahamas, but they are mostly just timid and hungry, except for this gal who takes her job seriously.) Anyhow, J&K provides a great service to the Georgetown community and you should look them up if you get to Georgetown.

New Year's Eve

2011-01-03T12:48:00.021-05:00

It started out quiet enough. A game of Mexican train with the rules an amalgamation of recollections from prior games, which changed with each round. One shared bottle of champagne, oh, and a little Baileys in our coffee with the banana cream pie. But then, Bob became DJ, using the latest hits on my Ipod to get the party moving and Peter opened the bar.

My husband is a dancing fool and one helluva bar man. We made it past sailor's midnight---no one left until after 2 am. And just like the last time Bob played DJ, we awoke with memories of having a good time, laryngitis, and large heads.

The Island Packet behind us definitely felt left out.

The Lucky Blind Squirrel

2011-01-01T16:46:00.005-05:00

We left out of Black Point for Georgetown with Savage Son and My Destiny at 0630, having said our goodbyes to Veranda the prior evening. Once out of Dotham Cut (pronounced Dot-ham, for those not quite in the know), we all set out our lines, hoping for fresh fish for dinner. We travelled about a few yards before Bev yelled out: “Fish on Savage Son”; it turned out to be a small blue fish. Less than a half hour later, another blue, larger this time, was taken by them.

We, of course, had our lines out, but never expected to get anything. We are determined, but not stupid. We fish. We don’t catch. We know this.

Greg reported that Judy had just lost the largest fish she had ever hooked. Wow, what fishing cohorts we have.

Then, a hit on First Edition! You know you have a hit when a clothespin that you have attached to the life line and the thingie you dangle in the water with a lure on it pops off. Usually you are in the midst of some sailing maneuver, or like today, heeled over in 17 knots on a beat, with almonds roasting in the oven. Peter ran, stumbling, to the aft deck and I saw him reeling in the line, very effortlessly, so I imagined we had a false clothespin pop. Well, we did, but the sucker who triggered the excitement took off our brand new $15 lure and left no trace of himself behind.

Minutes later, Savage Son announces mahi aboard. I am convinced they will find our lure once they open his mouth. He is a whopper, 40 inches!

Then, another hit on First Edition! This time, the line isn’t so easy to pull in, the almonds are falling off the pan in the oven because of our significant heel, no one is at the helm, and of course, there is no towel, bucket, gaff, alcohol killing goop, cutting board, filet knives, or common sense readily available. I start to hyperventilate worrying that we will lose our catch, or I will lose Peter, or my almonds will burn; then I see the fish breaking the water showing off its yellow, green, and blue markings. We have mahi! We have mahi!

After sustaining life threatening injuries (see picture)
I attempt to assist in the retrieval of all of this missing items necessary to haul in and deal with Mr. Fish. Of course, most are located underneath other things in various drawers and lockers. We really don’t know what you are supposed to do with the gaff, we try snagging Mr. Fish, and are successful, but insufficiently to haul what we now realize is Very Big Mr. Fish aboard, 39 ½”. So with brute force, we muscle the fella on board, throw the towel over him (Peter thinks this will kill him), and I insist upon the alcohol killing goop because I, personally, would rather go this way than be suffocated with an old towel. Mr. Very Big Fish gives up the ghost, with a smile on his face.

We consult with Savage Son and My Destiny on what to do now with Very Big Mr. Fish , and attempt to follow intricate step-by-step instructions given by a surgeon who has done this all of his life and who obviously doesn’t understand he is talking to a bankruptcy lawyer who doesn’t even eat fish.

So, it has been a good start to this year’s fishing season. Sometimes even a blind squirrel finds a nut.

Christmas at Pipe Creek

2010-12-28T13:58:00.004-05:00

There’s no place like home for the holidays, no matter how far away you roam. The Ipod continually shuffling through Christmas caroles and the occasional Chanukah tune, the rituals of baking Christmas cookies and decorating the tree, and the festive atmosphere on the VHF radio, with everyone wishing everyone else a Merry Christmas, did little to recolor my holiday blues. My spirits were raised when Santa remembered to bring me slippers--as I had fortuitously forgotten that I had picked them out.
After discussing the merits of the Sampson Cay sit down dinner for $20, the folks we are anchored with agreed to our suggestion of a pot luck dinner on First Edition. And while it was not quite the large crowd that used to gather at our Christmas Eve fetes, sometimes for pizza, other times for fancy wine tastings, it was equally fun and well-oiled. The boys talked about whatever guys talk about when they are together around the cockpit table, while the girls, below decks, shared tales of first marriages, children’s successes and love lifes, and Mark, whom we all now hate.

Our menu: grilled cow and ham, pineapple sweet potato salad, Christy’s scalloped potatoes without the cheese or the milk, steamed green beans with almonds, fresh bread, pumpkin dip with gingersnaps, chocolate cake and copious amounts of wine, followed by more wine, after dinner drinks, and a way-too-loud rendition of We Are the Champions, complete with dancing and frolicking.
Followed by hangovers.

In Between the Mice and the Rat

2010-12-27T07:50:00.003-05:00

We left with The Group bound for Normans, and made good enough time to get to Shroud with a significant contribution from Mooch. We were anxious to show Savage Son the mangroves, hoping to experience again our first visit with Ketch’n Dreams, Celebrian, and those folks whose name now escapes me who bought a boat on the internet, took a 3 day sailing course, and here they were, living the life and learning as they go. But, tides were not cooperating, and nightfall would shortly overtake us, so it was not to be. At least we go to wiggle our toes in the Exuma sand.

The next morning we peeked out a porthole and determined that Far Niente had taken off, as planned, to head to Georgetown, a rather long day’s motoring. We took an early departure and headed to Black Point so that we could collect our first batch of sea glass, and had a somewhat successful harvest, also scooping up two small (and uninhabited) helmets, one a reticulated cowry. We got back to the boat early enough to speed off to Big Majors, avoiding the planned trip the next day during which we would have been beating our brains out in 20 knots of headwind. Incidentally, we found out crazy-ass fast driving Jay and Di had made it all the way to Long Island. They would be able to share Christmas with their friend who seems to be winning the latest brawl in the proverbial battle with cancer.

With the timing of the tides, an approaching cold front, and a gaggle of boats chattering about heading to Pipe, we got another early start and made like velcro to My Destiny’s stern, reaping the benefits of their accurate software. Anywhere in the Bahamas with the exception of the Abacos, we are stuck with useless Navionics, the only Raymarine E Series compatible software--it’s like looking at a chart of Sandy Hook while trying to navigate Cape Cod. Pipe Creek is a great spot to get protection, but is fraught with shallows and reefs, so we were happy to tag along with the better informed. We joined up with Veranda, who was already neatly tucked in between Rat Cay and the Mice, while about a dozen other boats shared the usual Pipe anchorage and played dodge boat with each other.
While waiting for Christmas and the Cold Front, we joined a Pot Luck at the cruiser-constructed Pipe Cay Yacht Club, consisting of a crudely put together hut with flotsam and jetsam collected over the seasons, waded through the muck to access the sea glass beach, and walked the flats to collect sand dollars, seashells, and two very sharp objects which made camp in the bottom of my feet.

Nassau and Clearing Customs

2010-12-20T12:04:00.005-05:00

We arrived at the Nassau Harbor Club in mid afternoon to a nearly empty marina with our "Q" Flag flying and hoping for a good result with immigration. There has been a lot of bruhaha this year over the snotty attitudes of the officials and their erratic enforcement of a new guideline handed down by Nassau which stipulates that visitors may only receive 30 days before they have to report back for additional permitted time to stay in the country. We heard that this was being widely enforced, no matter where you checked in, but heard from a few folks who had received 90 or 180 without any issue. This can be a real problem since check-in locations are limited, are not at every harbor you may be anchored at, and in fact, can be days away from your chosen temporary home. And, you could only check in "a few" days before your permit expired, and God help you if you let your permit lapse.

Our official greeted us warmly alongside First Edition, and welcomed Peter to join her in her office, a lounge chair by the pool. Peter returned shortly with loads of paperwork and a big smile on his face. He was awarded 180 days! How did you do that, I query. "Well, I just asked for 180, and she said OK."
While toasting our good luck, our Bahamian cell phone rang. It was Bev on Savage Son. One of The Group who had chosen to go elsewhere.

We really thought The Group would have an easy time of it going to Morgan's Bluff, as it seemed they were at least two days ahead of the North winds, to be avoided when stiff at their location, and it is not a very popular check-in destination, so the agents were likely to be accommodating. Wrong on both counts. We chatted about their coming here to Nassau, and Peter talked his way into getting them slip reservations, although the Marina was to be full by tomorrow with many heading this way to ride out the cold front.
So, it was not all that long before we saw The Group again.

For years we avoided Nassau but once we were forced to come here to catch a flight home, we recognized we had given it a bad rap. Directly across from the marina is a small shopping center, with a US quality grocery store, a video store selling discounted phone cards ($18 for $20)a Dairy Queen, and a Starbucks with free internet. A short walk will take you to the bus stop where you can catch a $1.25 ride anywhere. Most importantly, it will provide transportation to those $27 bottles of Johnnie Walker. With what we save on scotch we nearly cover the cost of the slip!

Water is free here, but don't put it in your tanks. Electricity is available on an as-used basis. Most boats are here for several days, so there are loads of opportunities to make new friends and socialize.

The Group

2010-12-17T14:24:00.001-05:00

At around 11:30 on December 15th we picked up anchor to leave the U S of A and its freezing temperatures and well stocked grocery stores behind. We joined four boats who last year travelled together and spent a good part of the winter sharing the cays of the Jumentos, a formerly ignored and isolated part of the Bahamas where you are cautioned to venture only if you are self-sufficient. This year we are determined to make it there, come hell, high water, or lousy blood tests notwithstanding.

The boats with whom we travelled, Far Niente, Savage Son, My Destiny, and Veranda, are all approximately the same size as us, if not the same ages, backgrounds and political inclinations. They are a good Group that has formed a bond. First Edition is like the new kid on the block just joining the homeroom at the local high school.

We met Jay and Di on Far Niente several years ago, and our friendship began over two bottles of wine following more hearty cocktails, at one of our favorite restaurants in Beaufort. Jay is responsible for our higher horsepowered engine, and I suppose is therefore Mooch’s Godfather. Never ask a former race car driver for his opinion on this subject. Diana is stunning and outgoing, and according to one in The Group, never sweats.

We met the Savages, Bob and Bev, while docked next to us in Nassau last year and the morning following happy hour together, we were each surprised by a now outdated email from Di and Jay suggesting that we look each other up. We spent several weeks with Savage Son and hiked for several rocky hours to locate phone service when Bob found out his pregnant daughter was in jeopardy. Sharing times like that creates a closeness generally resulting only after years of friendship.

We met Greg and Judy from My Destiny last year at a Laundromat in Black Point in the Exumas, when Jay and Di told them to look us up. Like ships passing in the night, we exchanged hellos but had little time to get to know each other before My Destiny bounded South for a belated connection with The Group. Six months later Judy and I friended each other on Facebook, and found out we were born on the same day. In the same year. Judy professes to be younger than I, but I demand to examine her birth certificate, conveniently left behind in the mountains of Colorado, before accepting the role of Older Sista.

Two years ago Jay emailed us to tell us Veranda was in Solomons, Maryland, at the same time that we were. We never met, but for years heard stories about Christy and Bill’s unparalleled hunting abilities (in sailor speak, this means fish and lobster harvesting, requiring sharp spears and quick reflexes). This past summer I was turned on to Bill’s blog, which is a spicy collection of sailing tales and ramblings frequently leading to snorts and laugh out loud reactions. Bill is a man’s man, with a sensitive side. He has an incredible respect for his wife, who is one of the coolest people on earth. It’s no wonder; she’s a Jersey Girl.

So, it was difficult to part with this group of old friends and friends in the making. But the independent streak in Peter and me led us to a divergent path, and after losing wind and patience, we sped off in the darkness while The Group sailed on, merrily making their 4-5-6 knots, in no hurry to reach their short-term homestead. Off they go to Andros, while we head to Nassau, the home of discounted phone cards and cheap Johnnie Walker. And protection from the North.

We hope to reconnect with The Group somewhere down the line, but are also anxious to see Celebrian and our many other old friends and new ones we haven’t met yet.

Belle Isle in Miami

2010-12-13T16:23:00.008-05:00

Troubadour finally showed up in Lake Worth and before we had time to exchange greetings face-to-face, we decided we needed to high-tail it down to the South Anchorage at Lake Worth for a 4 am departure the next day. Although it was forecast to be freezing in the morning, it beat the following day's prediction for rain. First Edition's enclosure works great, but combine wind, rain, and no sunshine with sub-normal temperatures, and it makes for a lousy transit. We had a great passage, sailing a good part of the way and picking up a sometimes two knot gulf stream counter current. Life was good. We entered the Venetian Causeway South approach, hugging the shoreline per Skipper Bob's discussion, and saw no less than 7 feet. Upon reaching Belle Isle we found many boats at anchor, including our friends with whom we had hoped to cross to the Bahamas.

This anchorage has good access to the Collins Canal, where you can tie alongside (using your Miami Vice-grade lock and dinghy cable) and walk to South Beach, Publix, the laundry on Alton and 15th, a CVS and Blockbuster.
If you are as clever as I, you can buy what turns out, upon removing the price tag, to be the second half of the first season of Nurse Jackie, never haven seen the opening episodes.

Nearby is the Holocaust Memorial and as is always the case, you are moved by the vision of the artist and the horrifying recollection of times unimaginable.

And where there are boaters suffering from ennui you will eventually find a gathering involving food and liquor, this time at the Flagler Memorial Island. Not only did we get to stretch our legs, we managed to spoil the plans of one Romantic, who, undoubtedly well before the pot-luck notion popped into some sailor's head, arranged to propose marriage to his Beloved precisely where we set up camp. The story is best told by a friend at his blog, veranda422.blogspot.com.

Lake Worth

2010-12-08T06:25:00.008-05:00

We bought First Edition in 1999, and after many dollars and months, sailed her away from Ft. Lauderdale to bring her home to the Keyport Yacht Club in New Jersey. After taking a wrong turn in the canals and then running hard aground, requiring the assistance of Tow Boat US (of course, before remembering to reinstate our towing coverage)we entered the unfamiliar inlet of Lake Worth. All the books said you should anchor by Peanut Island, which looked weird to me, so amid a gentle rain we pecked our way into the South anchorage. For two glorious, rainy days, we sat out a blow and were delighted with our anchorage and First Edition. We still are.

At the North anchorage of Lake Worth you can find great protection from nearly all directions, a Publix, Chez Cherie where Sarah will give you a great haircut, CVS, West Marine, and loads of boats headed in various directions to consult and party with.
In early December, you will be lucky enough to join in the Boat Christmas Parade, where we have made it our tradition to gather a gang and drinks and all tie together with our dinghies and assorted headgear.

Before heading to the South Anchorage with Troubadour, we said goodbye to Sojourner and Civil Twilight, and Linda and Jim on Winsome, who had stopped by earlier with a surplus half gallon of Edy's, thereby acquiring a ticket to the farewell party. As it turns out, Winsome used to be members of the Keyport Yacht Club, yet more folk from one of the clubs we belonged to that we never met.

Vero to Peck Lake

2010-12-04T09:15:00.007-05:00

We spent a week at Vero in order to receive my "vacation supply" of medications, which, predictably were shipped in incorrect quantities requiring two hours and thirteen minutes of phone time and and an extra day's stay awaiting the remainder amounts. But if you have to be stuck, Vero is the place to be. We ran into lots of old friends and partied around the mooring field,

had a photo lesson with Jim from Salty Paws, did laundry, rode the bus, overfilled the freezer and wine cellar (the bilge), and said goodbye to friends in a bigger hurry than us.

Five hours away we reached Peck Lake, which isn't even mentioned in some cruising guides. We had a great time here last year with Troubadour (so far unaccounted for), and once again, took a long walk on the Atlantic Beach which you access from a short walk from the dinghy landing. The wind was howling from the North and we got OK protection; the waterway is pretty narrow here so there is not much room for a fetch to build up. And, if you pass the green marker and turn left you will find well in excess of 8 feet of water in which to anchor. I found numerous cool shells but the prize this year goes to Peter who scooped up a cowrie that matched the one I found last year, again, recently deceased (honest) and in good shape.

Giving Thanks

2010-11-29T15:27:00.006-05:00

We departed Brunswick in the afternoon, never having the opportunity to pick up our recently harvested seafood from the shrimpers, in a gentle breeze and only a slight ocean swell, bound for Vero Beach. Last year, due to exhaustion, we gave up on trying to get to Jay and Di’s house for their Thanksgiving Feast, so this go-around Peter was hell-bent for election and with no rest day after Disney, off we went. It was one of those glorious passages, lots of sailing, smooth seas, ice cream :), and a full moon.

We arrived at Fort Pierce inlet at daybreak two days later, the Captain having permitted me to sleep beyond my off-watch. This kindness was negated by his screeching “Lynn, Lynn” (which he NEVER calls me, I am only “Lynn” when there is trouble). With a racing heart beat I ran, au naturel, to the cockpit to be told “we are almost there”. My palpitations continued for several hours, the time it took to reach our mooring at Vero Beach. While fueling up, we were greeted by Kitty and Scott on Tamare, and rafted up with them and Bonnie Lass.

The next day we were shuttled to the Howell’s, where a glorious dinner of ham and turkey complete with bug gravy and all the trimming were served. Great company with good friends and good food. Every one chipped in, appropriate amounts of adult beverages were consumed, and an extremely large flying insect found its peace in a bath of leftover gravy. The host was dismayed to find that his guests were locust-like with the leftovers, and that traditional meal the night following Thanksgiving was not to be.

You Gotta Believe

2010-11-24T18:16:00.002-05:00

Disney World is a magical place where you are encouraged to believe that dreams come true. If you are a five year old girl, it is not hard to accept the fact that if you believe strongly enough, and hound your parents all year long, you will magically be deposited on the Disney bus in Orlando, bound for a land of princesses and chipmunks that give great hugs and sign autograph books, some day to be discovered by a former Princess Belle look-alike in a dusty attic trunk. I hope when that happens Willow remembers that we were there. For sure, Peter and I could never forget this special time.

Having moved Aunt Dar to Lady Lake Specialty Care Center for more therapy, we had a short drive in our now obscenely expensive rental car to Disney. Blessed with concierge level accommodations, we grabbed a soda and the boat headed to Epcot for a day with our kids and our special granddaughter as she begged to stand in yet another line to gather autographs, hugs, and to stare deeply into the eyes of yet another cleverly garbed and made up cast member who each and every five year old among us is certain is the real deal.
Mickey’s Backyard BBQ provided the opportunity to dance with your favorites while various sets of grandparents, up well beyond sailor’s midnight, stifled yawns and clicked away on their Canons, sometimes ignoring the awkwardly placed hugs bestowed by the little ones on their too-tall icons.

Upon return to our rooms in the Wilderness Lodge, we found that Santa had visited, although he had failed to adequately blow up the inflatable Christmas tree that Willow delighted in pouncing upon with more energy that I typically start the day with.
Most exciting gifts: the dollar bill found in the coconut purse and the S’mores nightlight, proving that it doesn’t matter how much you spend. I should give the dolly to my Aunt Bev who almost walked off with it along with the extra furry jacket and matching boots.

The next day we arose at what seemed like daybreak for the Supercalifragalistic Breakfast, and the opportunity to slop eggs around with Mary Poppins,
the Mad Hatter, and other assorted lesser Disney characters with the requisite Princesses thrown in to assure frantic levels of excitement.
More standing in lines with adoration exuding every pore, and a visit to the Bippeditty Boppitty Princess Salon where for a price equivalent to my total college tuition you can get freaky hair extensions or a tiara avec bun, and a bewildering choice of character dresses and glittery footwear.

And the big event that evening: The Disney Christmas Party, commencing at 7:00 and continuing (Lord have mercy) until midnight. But, included in this extravaganza were incredible fireworks with rockets turning into smiley faces, hearts, stars, and presents, snow falling on Main Street, and “free” cookies and hot chocolate served every nine yards at concession stands. Fortunately, the Little Miss lost her steam around 10:30, so we began the trek back from the Magic Kingdom, sparkling with glorious tints favored by Princesses, to our welcoming king sized beds.

The next day we spent the morning with our little one, visiting, oh yes, more Princesses, and experiencing yet one more parade. We departed around lunchtime, and surprised Aunt Dar with a visit on the way back to Redneck Country to crash before the ride back to Brunswick.

Remember, if you believe hard enough, all your dreams can come true.

Good News, but not Great News

2010-11-15T15:26:00.000-05:00

Auntie is out of the ICU but is still in the hospital. It seems she suffered some kidney failure from low blood pressure from dehydration, and now they are struggling to determine the right mix of the medications to balance her kidneys while keeping her lungs clear. Difficult juggling act and one we lived through before with Peter's Dad. She is all worked up about our being delayed on our Mission South, but nevertheless whines when we decide to leave for the night after 8 hours of hospital duty. If you have a loved one in a hospital, it sure helps to be there with them, especially when they are almost 85 years young. So, while I wish we were cruising with all of our friends, with many now gathered in Vero Beach for the Thanksgiving celebration, some how I feel like The Man has arranged my schedule to be here.

Thursday, though, my other Princess beckons, a visit to Disney with Willow our granddaughter. Hopefully Auntie will have resolved by then.

Good thoughts and prayers are gratefully accepted.

A Medical Tour of Ocala

2010-11-13T12:00:00.000-05:00

From NJ we returned to Florida to spend some time with my Aunt in Redneck Country and did my long list of visit chores: get carpet cleaned, visit as many docs as I could talk into appointments, do a thorough roach check (heh, it's Florida), search for the practically non-existent cotton V neck striped shortsleeved polo shirts that my aunt favors--size 2X but it has to be short at the hips and preferably just like the ones I bought her about 20 years ago, and venture forth to a spinal surgeon to find a solution to the chronic pain. Cook a year's worth of food for the freezer, buy as much diet Snapple as the rental car can carry, review her medications, change the furnace filter, visit with nearby friends and family. Try to sleep with several "rooster clocks" chiming out the time, each of course, at least a minute apart, but at least my legally blind Auntie knows what time it is.

Finally, time to move on, with regrets on leaving her but with expectations for a new cruising year. Pack the car and ready to say our farewell, when she looses her balance and down she goes. Is it a manipulation? We take her BP and eventually call 911.

I have a wonderful husband who has spent this week "vacation" cleaning everything he could find to pass the time, and now sits beside me at the Intensive Care Unit, dreaming of 15 knots of wind and flat seas. We await a doctor to tell us what the heck is going on.

Home in NJ

2010-11-03T12:43:00.002-04:00

I know I have said this a million times, but it bears repeating: we are blessed with so many friends willing to share their homes and families with us while we are "home" in New Jersey visiting our docs. This visit, we mooched off of Betty, who greeted us with a good, hot meal and friends Donna and Alan on our arrival. It was great handing out candy like a real land person, watching TV, and taking long, hot showers without anyone complaining about the water use.

Doctor visits were good. Peter's kidney functions are all back to normal, and his stones have not grown. My aches and pains appear unrelated to my RA, since my bloodwork looks as good as yours, and maybe even better, with no signs of inflammation. So, I have been given good news: it's fibromyalgia. See, everything in life is relative.

Brunswick

2010-10-27T14:05:00.000-04:00

We spent two full days of cleaning and fixing, mixed in with visits from old and new friends. This left us no time to check the shrimp boats for our $5/pound supply, or any visit to the brick oven Italian restaurant before taking off for our land visits today. But we did get in our now traditional dinner out with Claire and Paul on Our Turn whom we always seem to run into during our visit here.

We had a fantastic meal at Coastal Kitchen, located at the Golden Isles Marina and shared loads of laughs and advice.

We are now headed South, but on land, to visit my Aunt and retrieve six months of mail before flying home for doctor visits.

Beaufort to Charleston, no---make that Brunswick

2010-10-25T16:15:00.000-04:00

We left Beaufort about 32 hours ago, leaving our sailing friends scattered in various locations and not quite in as much a hurry to get out of the ICW and its shallows. Intending to leave around three, by noon we both had ants in our pants and decided we could always slow down if need be, in order to arrive at Charleston in the daylight. We had made this port one time in the pitch black and it was quite well marked, but seeing what you are doing is always the preferred approach.

We sailed for several hours on a glorious point of sail, and since we were not in a hurry, we didn’t care when the speedo dropped below five knots. But unfortunately, as the case may be this time, the good wind didn’t last, and Mooch, now unburdened of a dirty filthy prop, has decided to outperform his expectations. So, with a full moon the size of Kansas lighting our way, we have now decided to keep on going. If we were going to hit Charleston in the dark we might as well make St. Simons under similar conditions.

---We have since arrived at Brunswick, Georgia, having reached the inlet in the day light in time to reach the Brunswick Landing Marina. 333 miles in 53 hours.

Tuckahoe Point to Bear Creek

2010-10-24T18:54:00.000-04:00

We decided to have a lazy day once departing Coinjock, and woke to found ourselves one of only three boats left (and at 7:30, mind you). Few lazy heads among the boating community! We got to experience the ugliness of the Albermarle Sound, notorious for its short chop when the winds are piping, which they were on this day. But once we got into the Alligator River, we were able to sail for a couple of hours, a rare ICW treat. We also heard our friends Scott and Kitty, and arranged to hookup with them at Tuckahoe Point. Here, we met their friends Bill and Sue on Rondo and had a happy hour aboard Tamure.

The Tuckahoe anchorage is huge, you can always count on space for good NW coverage. If the winds are howling out of the SW you can chose a nearby anchorage (around G43, I think) as well.

We all left the next day at 7:30 and had a typical boring day on the ICW. Peter and I kept extending our intended goal for the day, anxious to get South for our many commitments. We skipped over Belhaven (oh please, don't go here), and left Tamure to anchor off of Campbells Creek by Goose Creek. Tamure draws 6'6" so there must be good water there, but they may not have gone in far. We heard Elan who also anchored at Campbells Creek. We opted to extend the day by another hour and anchored in between the shallows at Bear Creek.

Tomorrow we should be able to make Beaufort for an offshore run to Charleston, leaving the ICW behind.

Day One on the ICW

2010-10-21T07:48:00.000-04:00

We had a good trip from Mill Creek to Hospital Point, where we found friends Mike and Kathy on Sapphire and the Carnival ship Glory, pulling out as we pulled in. Unfortunately, I could not raise my stepmom on her cell phone, so I assume she did not see us waving to her as she, Jimmy, and friends pulled out to head for their cruise to the Bahamas, in luxury. We had hoped to connect with Sapphire to transit the Dismal Swamp with them, but they planned a more leisurely pace than us. We intend to speed South in order to get to Aunt Dar's to provide support after today's release from rehabilitation following a hospitalization, and to visit docs with her.

So, we opted to take the Virginia Cut instead. On Day One one must open at least four bridges (more if trains are crossing over the RR bridges), and you need to tie to a lock. Every single bridge and lock operator has failed the Miss Manners training school, and they are out to get you. Well, most of them anyway. It was a long day, but uneventful, and we settled into dockage at Coinjock Marina in the late afternoon.

Visiting our Future Home on Mill Creek

2010-10-19T09:57:00.019-04:00

On October 7th we departed Solomons for Mill Creek where we were occupied with home planning and socializing as well as a lousy internet signal, explaining the delay in bringing you all up to date with our comings and goings. Thanks to those of you who registered concern but we are back in business aboard First Edition.

Upon arrival we walked our property which since our last time here as been cleared of all trees on the building footprint, so we are able to get a good feel for our setting. We chose well all those years ago. Our friends, the Tillmans, are well along on their construction and we are lucky to have their experience as we begin our process for real.

My stepmom Kathie and her mate Jimmy picked us up so that we could borrow their car to run our errands. As they had a house guest, Jimmy’s sister Georgia, we stayed aboard First Edition but managed to share dinner with their Friday night dinner group who have become like family to us. I am absolutely certain that my Dad chose Jimmy for Kathie from his spot in heaven, but I do miss him, especially when I see his old pecan tree.

We met with Bill Prillaman, our architect , to finalize details for the construction drawings, saw more homes with prospective builders, spent five hours choosing toilets, sinks and fixtures, and agonized over siding colors and deckings while driving around to find homes with similar choices. Our plans will soon be ready to distribute to the potential builders, and the job will go to bidding, which we hope to have completed before we leave the US.

We had a lovely dinner with the Tillmans at Bill and Carol Throckmorton’s, neighbors to the Tillmans, and boaters whom we ran into in Nassau last year proving the smallness of our universe.

We docked one night at the Schuman’s on Lew and Cindy’s invitation to take on water and amp up the batteries before leaving the Creek. We also had visitors at our dock, Barb and Mike on Elan who shared a birthday dinner for Vickie, and Barb and Lee and their friends Laurie and Laurie (as in Lawrence) from Wind Dancer, who joined us for our anniversary dinner at Crabs and Cues, the local pool hall/emporium for fried foods and devilled eggs. Peter and I had our own fancy dinner to celebrate at Tommy’s in Reedville.

It is time to move on, and so we have.

Welcoming Wind Dancer at Solomons

2010-10-06T10:36:00.000-04:00

Lee and Barb from Wind Dancer wound up taking a mooring at Zahnisers, directly across from us here at Washburns, so we shared happy hour with them and Elan. Wind Dancer will cruise the Chesapeake this fall and haulout at Norfolk for the winter. We so enjoy their company and know that they will be life-long friends.

We dinghied to the Holiday Inn/Solomons Landing Marina on Back Creek yesterday and paid the $2 dinghy landing fee in order to walk up to the CVS and Food Lion. These are located about a mile North up the road (hang a right on the access road in front of the Holiday Inn). You will also find a Burger King, McDonalds, and KFC/Taco Bell. Closer and to the left is Woodburn's high priced gourmet food store, a great Chinese restaurant, and further still, West Marine and a liquor store.

Catching up with Elan

2010-10-04T09:34:00.000-04:00

While hanging around waiting for weather and for Monday to come to undertake yet ANOTHER Frigoboat repair, we heard M/V Elan hailing M/V Tardis over the VHF. Whoopee! We met Elan last year at Block Island and it was one of those immediate connections, similar to our introduction to Tardis the year before that on the Dismal Swamp. We were successful in raising Michael and Barb on Elan, and enticed them to anchor the next day in Back Creek by Zahnisers, where we were swinging on a mooring.
That night, we received a phone call from Barb and Lee on Wind Dancer, whom we met in Beaufort two years ago and who had monitored our call with Elan, but could not reach us by radio. They, too, will eventually be in Solomons, and after that, at Mill Creek. So, we have a lot of catching up to do with old boating friends.

Monday we will head to Washburn's, directly across from Zahnisers, again at Frigoboat's direction. Unless we get satisfaction, I can predict the commencement of WWIII. It won't be pretty.

Socializing at Solomons

2010-09-30T17:13:00.000-04:00

While First Edition gets its annual primping at Zahnisers, we have had the opportunity to catch up with friends and make new ones. Pictured is our latest acquaintance, Freebie, whom we met along with Sassy and Gypsy at the Franklins' while enjoying Peter's favorite meal, fried chicken. I now understand why my fried chicken does not make the grade; I have no patience for the frying process.

We caught up with Sue and Ian on Kokopeli, whom we met a few years ago in Charleston and, as it turned out, crossed over to the Abacos with us a few years ago. We had a very good meal at DiGiovanni's, where on Tuesday, you can get a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, lasagna, or ravioli for $10.95. This is not Vincenzo's quality, but heh, they sold out and their delicious veal dishes are a thing of the past. We had another Italian meal aboard Cloverleaf while dodging rain drops to and fro.

While at Zahnisers we have been busy messing about with the boat, repainting the chain to mark various lengths, checking hose clamps, taking inventory on our food stuffs and medications, touching up the Cetol, the list goes on and on. We now are awaiting this tropical low or whatever it is to blow through so that our new spinnaker pole can be installed and we can provision before heading off to Mill Creek. Or, perhaps, back to Annapolis.

No, not for the boat show. Why? Frigoboat. It isn't working again and my heretofore declaration of continued love and admiration for the system is quickly fading. I am becoming a cheerleader for Peter to pull out his law degree and get it fixed for once, and for good. Any body interested in the Frigoboat refrigeration system should talk with us first. We have all of our woes documented. When it works, it's great.

"I Never Get to See You Grammie"

2010-09-27T15:41:00.000-04:00

OK. The kid is conniver. She knows exactly what to say to pull your heart strings."Will you cuddle with me Grammie?" asked while putting her to bed. Sure thing. We cuddle for about eleven hours, she falls asleep, I sneak out. Five minutes later she is crying in her daddy's arms because Grammie left her. "Will you read to me Grammie? Just ten pages?". Asked before cuddling. We read the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica, then am asked, "Again".
The next morning, Grammie arrives to commence some serious morning cuddling, to find the adorable princess on the floor. Dead asleep. She awakes and informs me her bed was rattling. I immediately transfer all of my assets to her account.

Sorry everyone. We have the very best-est granddaughter, princess, ballerina in the whole world. With finely tuned conniving skills.

We managed a trip to The Big Red Ball (Targets) and wrote down the SKU numbers for everything she touched. We need to buy a bigger boat to store all of the holiday presents.

She calls Peter "Aye-Aye" but this time, let us know that he is her grandpa. He was thrilled to be so recognized. Here, he is showing Willow how one opens a coconut. She is enthralled, but refused to participate in the bounty.

"Will you take me to Disney Grammie?". Hmmm. Perhaps just one more visit.

Healing Hands

2010-09-22T13:52:00.000-04:00

Jeannie and Jim (Mooch's father) joined us for a Japanese grill dinner and in addition to good company and good food, it turns out Jeannie is trained in reiki. Reiki is a spiritual Japanese practice aimed at stress reduction and hands-on healing. My RA has been in overdrive lately, and my Reiki expert was able to remove my limp after a session over a cuppa. I had a great night's sleep, first in a long time.

A Visit to Mill Creek

2010-09-20T16:53:00.000-04:00

Very few of us enjoy our time on the hard, when bathroom visits require a walk up and down a fifteen foot ladder off the boat, refrigeration is "offline", and you are working your tail off (the usual reason for being pulled out of the water and placed, suspended, on some metal fabrication that you can't believe can possibly support your 39,000 pounds of boat). And of course, it is usually in the mid or upper 90's when all of this occurs. So, just after being pulled, we decided to go for a vacation over the weekend, and invited ourselves to our friends' and future neighbors, the Tillmans. While their house construction is underway, Vickie and Len have parked their boat at their dock, and now that electricity and water are available, we can classify their accommodations as deluxe.

While waiting for them to arrive we visited our other-side neighbors, Lou and Cindy and joined them for dinner at nearby Horn Harbor. They have been on Mill Creek almost ten years now, but only as part-timers. We have a good group congealing down there and hopefully retirement is not that far away for them.

We also noticed that our upper tree neighbor appeared to be busy renovating.

Our visit also gave us the chance to see the large trees being removed from our building site. This time we were smart enough to spray copious amounts of "Off" on all exposed body parts, with nary a care about the high Deet content. The lot looks great! We also interviewed another builder who was recommended by Terry and Bob Hood of Kismet, also Hylas owners, whom we met at Block Island. They just blew into town yesterday after cruising Maine over the summer.

While the guys played golf, Vickie and I shopped around town and enjoyed the crisp, gorgeous weather reading in the cockpit. Occasionally Vickie would get up and check her crab lines, but it really wasn't until Len got back that the bucket started to fill up.

Oysters on the Half Shell

2010-09-16T09:41:00.001-04:00

Well, it was no wonder First Edition was auditioning for the slow boat to China on our trip South. Once hauled, a veritable confirmation of the health of the Chesapeake Bay was displayed, oysters joining the barnacles in a two-inch thick growth on our keel. Mortifying. I am tempted to send this picture to Interlux to let them know what we think of their Micron bottom paint. For sure, Petitt will be our coating of choice this year.

We celebrated our clean bottom aboard Cloverleaf, and met Greg and Marie Rodgers aboard Second Sally. Dave and Bev knew these guys from their time in the Med, and Peter and I were enchanted with and envious over their stories of wonderful destinations. The bucket list grows.

Solomons Island

2010-09-14T10:02:00.001-04:00

With rainy weather forecast we left The Rhodes for Solomons on Friday before our Monday appointment at Zahnisers, and pulled into Mill Creek 7 1/2 hours later. Usually people anchor immediately to port across from the tugs but we have had difficulty setting the anchor there, more patience would likely have led to a good set. So, we continue down and anchor in front of the big house by the end of Calverts with NW winds, or continue further up St. Johns creek an anchor off of another big house with loads of rip-rap with south easterlies.

The next day Cloverleaf showed up, choosing Back Creek for anchorage, and we joined them for dinner at the Back Street Cafe, formerly Vincenzo's. Approaching from the water this place looks deader than a doornail, but on this Saturday night the restaurant was doing a good business. We had a very good meal. Prior to dinner we met friends of Cloverleaf, Judy and Seth on Steadfast, whom we have been looking forward to meeting for a few years now.

Solomons is a great meeting place for cruisers; it always seems that some one is around. A call from Rick on Sojourner led to a gathering at The Captain's Table with Richard and Carol from Kalissa, who live in Solomons, Sandy and John on Moonstruck, Bev and Dave from Cloverleaf, new friends Sam and Carolyn on Melaka, and, Jake and Robie on Marley Mae, friends of Kalissa, who will cruise for the first time this year.

The next morning we hooked up with Mooch's Dad, Jim Franklin at Zahnisers, for Mooch's 1000 hour check up. I would like to personally thank Mooch for hanging in there for an extra 600 plus hours, and for managing with a two year old alternator belt and impeller. On examination (without a magnifying glass required) the belt's teeth looked like the result of a bad dentist gone wild. If I were in charge of spares we would have had at least one belt on board instead of six extras for the old engine. No harm done, and lesson learned nevertheless.

2010-09-11T11:33:00.000-04:00

The Rhodes River

2010-09-10T13:43:00.000-04:00

Growing weary with the chop by the Naval Academy anchorage, we decided we could deal with the gusty winds for the 11 mile-or so trip to the West River. We thought we might even be able to sail. This novel notion was just a figment of our imaginations.

But, a couple of hours later we took a right turn off the West River and headed into the Rhodes. There is simply nothing here except trees and birds, and Camp Letts, the location of the Seven Seas Gam being held later in the month. Watch it as you round the #7 marker and make your turn toward the Big Island anchorage (perfect for NW protection) as the shoal marked on the chart has grown over time. Give it a wide berth and you will be OK. Also watch out for High Island, which is covered most of the time.

Love it here.

Happy New Year!

2010-09-09T16:22:00.000-04:00

We had just picked up a mooring in Weems Creek, planning to dinghy over to pick up some goodies for our Rosh Hoshanah celebration, when I heard our friends on Cloverleaf hailing the Annapolis harbormaster. We gave them a shout, and decided that their plans for service at the US Naval Academy sounded like a great way to bring in the New Year. Mooch must have known our trip for the day was not finished, as he decided not to turn off when either "stop" button was pushed; we pulled out the Yanmar manual and identified the emergency solution. More work for Jim at Zahnisers.

We dragged out our dress-up clothes and Dave and Bev provided chaffeur services to us where we had anchored off the Naval Academy wall. A short walk up from Ego Alley we came to the Academy, and found everyone to be helpful in providing directions to the Miller Chapel, although everyone's were different from each other. Amazingly, we stumbled upon the Chapel in time for services.

The Rabbi was charming, very welcoming, humorous, and familiar---well of course, we agreed he is just an older version of Uncle David (Peter's Brother, always called Uncle to differentiate him from David the Son). The service was well-attended, but many seats were available. There were perhaps about 20 midshipmen, in their dress whites worshipping. Prior to Kadish, the Mourner's Prayer, several of them recited the names of our soldiers who had fallen over the last week.

With our Uncle David lookalike leading the service, we almost felt like we were gathered around Margie and Neil's dinner table, where we traditionally celebrated the first night. Except we missed the challah and honey, and instead had Italian food with Bev and Dave. A good start to the New Year, but there's no place like home for the holidays.

J Gordon and Other Good Things at Annapolis

2010-09-09T15:19:00.000-04:00

CT scans out of the way, with nothing scarier than 6 kidney stones confirmed, we have returned to Annapolis to find First Edition's work nearly completed and loads of good friends to spend the remaining time with. When we asked the yard when so-and-so was going to be completed, "oh, that's already done" was a welcomed (and unusual) boat yard reply. We love Zahnisers a lot and Mooch's father Jim is the only one who can touch our engine. We now also strongly like J Gordon on Back Creek, and give them a strong recommendation. Our Frigoboat system is running strong and fine. Cross your fingers.

Bob had returned to Savage Son so I got my hug and we shared several meals, stories, and plans with him and Bev.
We enjoyed the melodrama surrounding the completion and installation of Bill and Christy's hard dodger which we celebrated with cocktails aboard the Veranda. To start your day out right with a chuckle, be sure to visit their blog, Veranda422.blogspot.com. It is a stitch.

Guess Who Started Kindergarten Today?

2010-09-07T16:06:00.000-04:00

Back Creek at Annapolis for Frigoboat Repair

2010-09-01T10:00:00.000-04:00

We have had so many problems with our Frigoboat refrigeration system it is incredible that I can say that I still love it. But there you go.

Our latest issue, apparently and hopefully a piece of debris or water in the lines somewhere, causes the freezer compressor to continue to run, but not chill, resulting in the freezer not working. This problem was supposedly caused during the installation process, or while refrigerant was evacuated, and therefore, it is not an equipment problem. OK, I buy this and my fingers are crossed. Initially intermittent (like once every six months), the problem has become a weekly one, and can no longer be ignored. Frigoboat wanted this work to be done at J Gordon in Annapolis, so here we are. Hurricane Earl has conveniently decided to arrive concurrent with our stay, so for anyone worried, First Edition is safe and sound and tied to a dock. We will be in New Jersey dealing with specialists, hopefully to return quickly once a curious xray's findings have been identified and a satisfactory conclusion reached.

A benefit of being here in Annapolis is running into old cruising pals. Savage Son is docked at the marina next to ours, and we had a girls' outing with Christy and her friend Bessie to Costco. Peter, Bevie and I dined at The Boat Yard (following cocktail hour on the airconditioned Savage Son, have to get one of those), while Bob is back in Texas doing family duty. I will not leave this place until I hug him.

Whitehall Bay

2010-08-31T11:05:00.000-04:00

Captain permitted me to sleep in today--until 6:00, in order to take advantage of the current to get near Annapolis for our repair appointment. It was somewhat comforting to know that Sojourner had lifted anchor around 5 am to get the most advantage. We did enjoy the benefit and by afternoon, passed under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (not the one with the tunnel).

My friend Vickie tells me that there are two different, distinct weather patterns, one on each side of the bridge. Heading South, if you are having nasty conditions, it will surely turn extra ugly once you pass under. Today, the wind jumped from 2 knots to 6 knots, so while her theory seems to hold, it was still like climbing Mount Everest while in an oven.

We set the anchor at Whitehall Bay, within a short distance to tomorrow's destination but behind enough trees that you can forget that the Bridge is lurking around the corner.

Arrived Chesapeake!

2010-08-30T08:59:00.000-04:00

We lifted anchor at 0553 at Cape May and continued to suffer the consequences of stupidity, dragging half of the barnacles from the LI Sound into the Chesapeake with us. We did not run out of fuel this time, as we finally calculated we are burning around 2 gallons an hour, and are topping the tanks along the way. Mooch will be so happy when this is all over with.

Buffeted by a dinner invitation for Rick's Kick Ass Spaghetti aboard Sojourner, we had a some what easy journey (although slow) through the Delaware Bay on a favorable current, through the C&D Canal, and a decent but occasionally rocky anchorage across from the Bohemia River by Piney Creek Cove.

Linda and Rick are some of the first cruisers we met, and we have continued to see them along our travels, frequently sharing those long legs. If Rick says it is so, it is. He knows every possible way to eke out another one hundredth of a knot, riding the currents (even if a 5 am wake up is required), and exploiting the wind, what little there might be of it. And, he is indeed a Kick Ass Cook.

Heading South 2010

2010-08-28T15:57:00.000-04:00

We have begun the journey to Winter 2011, whereever we will spend it, with a departure from City Island South. A 7:30 phone call thought to be Sojourner, our companion for the trip, turned out to be our friend Debbie from Ocklawaha, Florida, who is caring for Aunt Dar while Aunt Bev, Dar's caregiver, is caring for her husband, my uncle, during open heart surgery. (Got all that?) Dar decided she needed a trip to the ER to deal with back pain and since a few weeks ago her pain triggered a congestive heart failure attack, I encouraged her to go. It is hard dealing with family hardships from afar, and having someone like Debbie makes all the difference. Needless to say, I was not anxious to begin an offshore journey.

We had sat on a mooring at City Island Yacht Club for three weeks, and one would think that we would recall historical events where black smoke poured out of First Edition (before Mooch's arrival), with engine temperature rising, and speed declining. But NO, these two geniuses just said "let's go, the Chesapeake beckons", along with appointments at Jay Gordon's and Zahnisers. We should have hired someone to scrape off the layers of barnacles and Long Island Sound Sea Scum, or Captain could have donned his diving gear. But we didn't, instead, lost over a knot of speed due to drag. And we fought the current most of the way after leaving Sandy Hook. A 23 hour trip became 27 hours. It doesn't sound like much, but trust me, it is.

Light winds predicted, of course, were not light, and were directly on the nose, slowing us even further---being unable to sail or power sail, and the wind throwing up a chop. It was not uncomfortable. Just slow, frequently seeing less than 3 knots pop up on the speedo. The double moons predicted turned out to be malarky, but it was a nice crisp night, and long fleece pants made for a toasty cockpit. On a positive note, we only ran out of fuel once, confirming our stupidity and miscalculation of drag on the prop from the freeloaders.

We now sit at anchor at Cape May, having arrived 3 hours after Sojourner. Tomorrow, the dreaded Delaware Bay. Forecasts are encouraging and currents run in our direction.

FADHouse Family Fun

2010-08-22T12:41:00.000-04:00

Folks who cruise fulltime don't get to see family often, so it was with great anticipation that we planned an outing at our old Vermont skihouse with co-owners Jeff and Lee and other brothers and sisters in law, Neil and Marge and David.

FADHouse, the name an amalgamation of the last name initials of the original owners, is a wonderful destination no matter the season, and we have spent many, many good times with family and friends there over the years. Summer is one of the best times there, complete with crisp evenings, sometimes putting the fireplace to work,

locally made ice cream, spectacular golf courses, great walks, wonderful home-cooked meals

and restaurant outings, and discount shopping nearby in Manchester.

The tuna that Jeff made on the grill was the very best I ever had, and the 94 Silver Oak was perfect. The maple walnut, ginger, and yes, Chunky Joe Stein ice creams were close runners up. Great weekend.

Virginia is For Lovers?

2010-08-20T11:46:00.000-04:00

Peter and I are in the preliminary phase of the design of our home and it is crazy awful! During a recent "discussion" following revisions to the plans, I informed Peter that I am so sick of him. He of course did not hesitate in returning some equally awful statement of eternal love and marital bliss. Now that we have pinned down the footprint we think we can tolerate each other for another few years.

We stayed with Vickie and Len, conveniently located halfway from First Edition to our property on the way to meet with Bill Prillaman, our architect. (The Tillmans' solution for the stress of building a new home is alcoholic consumption, so they seem to be doing fine. With my latest blood work in, I am off alcohol until my liver rebounds from the ravishes of methotrexate. My girlfriend has decided to go dry in solidarity. I don't recommend this, even if you count me as a close friend. (As a side note, Vickie sponsored me years ago on Smoke Out day, sending encouragement and floral arrangements while I sneaked Newports behind everybody's back. No worries. I am smoke free now.)

While in Virginia we resolved our open design issues, visited the property to see it for the first time after it had been cleared of underbrush, spent the evening at Beausimone Farm with Bill and Catherine, and discovered chiggers. How in the hell do they get into your underwear?

8-9-10

2010-08-16T18:04:00.000-04:00

If you knew my nephew Bill and his now wife Desi, you would understand why they wanted to get married on 8-9-10. They met online as gamers, you know the type, free spirits. Back in the day, they would have been bohemians, or in my era, hippies. Anyway, I love them and they love each other. Desi's son Harry rounds out the family in progress. Welcome Desiree to the Nichols family.

The Inn at Heather Lane

2010-08-16T17:42:00.000-04:00

We have been land bound visiting doctors, visiting kitchen showrooms, attending a family wedding, and visiting more doctors, and except for a short trip to Florida to deal with more doctors, nurses, and aides for my Aunt, we have stayed at our friend Elizabeth's home. Betty is a long time, great friend, who has like so many of my gang, shared her hearth, home and family with us over the years.

Yet another great part of cruising: mooching off of your friends.

Thanks Bet.

A Visit from Beth

2010-08-03T10:32:00.000-04:00

Beth joined us at the Stamford Yacht Club for her first homegrown serious sailing lesson. A father wants nothing more than for his daughter to follow in his footsteps and Peter has been counting the days and discussing sailing techniques with me for weeks. Beth had already taken to the cruising lifestyle like, well, a duck to water but the real test now would be how she would take to the wheel.

It was only about 7 knots for Day One when we sailed from Stamford to Oyster Bay.

But it turned out the conditions were good for learning, and Beth got the feel for the wheel and the wind in her face.

We also got the opportunity to get in a good walk, and ran into the procession for the Feast of St. Rocco whom we are sure has blessed Beth with fair winds and good seas.

Sure enough, the next day for our return to Stamford winds were over 15 knots, making for a little more excitement and a real test of yesterday's lessons. Beth did great. Really.

We had a buffet dinner at the yacht club and returned Beth by cab to the train station for her 45 minute ride back to Penn Station NY. It is always great to have her here---good company, great breakfasts, and magazines chock full of Angelina's latest exploits. And now, we have another sailor in the family. Next...Willow?

Setauket at Port Jefferson

2010-08-01T14:23:00.000-04:00

We arrived at the Port Jefferson entrance at slack, which is always fortunate at this location given the current created by the 7'+ tide, and hung a right into the anchorage across from Setauket. You need to pick you places carefully and honor the channel markers, which will not align with your Navionics chartplotter. It is a lovely "marsh" anchorage and although we did not land on the beach this trip, there are fabulous "river" rocks for the taking. We dinked into Setauket and after a 20 minute walk reached three grocery stores, a laundromat, and passed a Starbucks, a pizza place, a produce market and a seafood market.

We are now making our way to Stamford to pick up daughter Beth who has professed an interest in learning how to sail. Then we are off the following weekend to City Island to leave First Edition while attending the wedding of my nephew, who it seems was born yesterday and mushroomed into a grownup.

Where There's Smoke...

2010-07-30T13:04:00.000-04:00

This is our year of fires, first one at Cuttyhunk, and now at Duck Island Roads near Westbrook, CT. While anchored there we had a front row seat. In the pictures below you can see the smoke changing color as the fire fighters douse the flames. The next day on the new we heard it was a "multi million dollar" home. The fire fighters did at great job keeping the fire contained to the one building.

Coecles Harbor---Just Do It.

2010-07-28T09:47:00.000-04:00

We should have played closer attention to the forecast when we took off from Stonington to Coecles Harbor on Shelter Island in glorious, bright sunshine and temps in the low 70's. It started out at 11 knots and grew to a steady 20, but with gusts to 26. It was rollicking, and First Edition's rail was buried for the first time since we have owned her. Although it was exhilarating, the jerry jugs of diesel and gas tied to the railings were also getting too much dunking, and I could not stand the thought of competing with BP, or losing the stanchions. So we reefed.

It was hard sailing with the wind (guess what) really too close to sail. We entered Gardiners Bay through Plum Island and Great Gull (no scary science projects noted for the deMille fans) and did not get any relief from the land protection I had hoped for. Five and a half hours later we reached Coecles.

We have been here many times and it is one of my favorite destinations. But beware, it is one scary looking entrance, with shoaling coming at you from both sides. The markers are not where they are shown on our Navionics charts, so pay attention! First Edition's 5 1/2 foot draft has no problem except at dead low (although not actually experienced, the math suggests this).

It is quite a dinghy ride into Coecles Harbor Marina where you can land your dink for a good walk into town. Ask for directions if you need provisions, lots of winding turns through a stunning rural community; a very well stocked IGA is about 1/2 hour away, walking. If you are lucky, you will pass a farm stand, and buy a one pound, $4 heirloom tomato. If you are unlucky, you will drop it on the way back. It was delicious, nevertheless, with some basil that I pinched off of Terry on Kismet.

I love it here.

Stonington

2010-07-25T11:23:00.000-04:00

In anticipation of a visit from Michael and Judy, we were "guests" of Dodson Boat Works at Stonington, CT, a leisurely hour sail from Fishers. Dodsons is a well run yard, with mechanical services, clean and private showers, a laundry, and a fabulous restaurant, The Dog Watch Cafe.

The $14 lobster roll has to be shared for lunch, it is monsterous. There is an ample parking lot for crew. This does not come cheaply, though, a mooring will run you $48 with tax, including unlimited launch service. The town of Stonington offers very little other than charming, well kept homes and a few restaurants, no provisioning.

We met the Lands for lunch and took a riding tour of Stonington and nearby Mystic, dodging raindrops but enjoying their airconditioning as record temperatures were reached. We spent a lot of time reviewing our house plans over cocktails and very much appreciated their input, as the Lands have exquisite taste. I remain totally befuddled by the entire process but am blessed with the counsel of good friends, especially when bearing Solitude. (For the uninformed, Solitude is an exquisite white wine that we can no longer find in the Northeast. Michael has connections.)

Certainties on Fishers Island

2010-07-23T12:13:00.000-04:00

It is only a couple of hours from Block to Fishers, and it is almost certain that when you get there you will have two things: fog, and nasty swans. This visit was no different. And we probably should add fetch to the list, although we have anchored here in calm bliss. Not this time.

Fishers is the location of the summer home of Pete Campbell's in-law's, (think Mad Men), and if you have seen the show and can imagine an island full of Pete Campbells, this is the place. Except during the week there are very few men here, as most are working (sic) in Manhattan and I suppose they take a ferry for the weekend, although I have never seen one here! So, just a lot of Mrs. Campbells running around in their tennis whites.

A short walk from the dock, where we always tie up although there is no obvious "Welcome Cruisers" placard, turn right and you will get to the rather complete and yes, pricey, grocery store. A longer walk will take through lovely old homes and flower gardens, and "in town" you will find an ice cream parlor.
You will always have a thunderstorm here. It is another rule when visiting Fishers.

Old Friends, New Friends

2010-07-20T19:14:00.000-04:00

Weather kept us one more day at Block, and after staring at this gorgeous boat anchored next to us for the last two days we decided to dinghy up and say hi. Low and behold, Kismet is a Hylas, granted, one of our descendants, but a gorgeous gal owned by Bob and Terry Hood from Merry Point, Virginia and Pebble Beach, California. Bob and Terry had pulled in a few days ago direct from Norfolk and we are so sorry we had not had more time to spend with them.

We did wake up to one of those early morning calls from Rick on Sojourner, who had pulled in the anchorage and spotted us. We walked the town with Rick and shared a Narragansett at The Oar, our favorite watering hole for over twenty five years.

Death Defying Acts on Block Island

2010-07-19T09:38:00.000-04:00

We must have been nuts when we left Wickford, as the seas and winds were exactly as forecasted, all wrong, and big. So, once out in the middle of the Rhode Island Sound we chose Block as our destination, as it was the closest port absent just turning around. So we had a few hours of very uncomfortable conditions.

Once we got here we anchored in that 40 foot spot in the anchorage, so we had to let out just about all of our chain. Since the winds were forecast to be strong and SW for several days, we figured we would not come down on our neighbors, and, so far, so good.

We have decided we probably have to give up on our recollections from times gone by.

With great memories of a nice long bike ride with Len and Vickie, oh, probably 20+ years ago, we rented bikes (this time, $12 for 4 hours---don't rent at the Boat Basin which is so much more expensive, walk into town and shop around for your prices). I swear, I almost died. As we were flying down this road, it dawned on me, what goes down must come up. I was so exhausted I did not want dinner.

Wickford

2010-07-17T14:57:00.000-04:00

With the likelihood that the winds were really honking out on Rhode Island Sound, with gusts to 30 being talked about, we opted to go inland up the West Passage to the sleepy little community of Wickford. Unless some nasty sailboat powering like a bat out of hell beats you in, you may be lucky enough to pick up one of the 5 free moorings right inside the breakwater, which, incidentally, is underwater at high tide despite what the charts say. We called the harbormaster to see if there were any rental moorings, and he said he would come out to the mooring field and chase off any boaters there who had exceeded their permitted 24 hour stay. Once there, he determined everyone was a new arrival, referred us to the yacht club for a $40 contribution, or suggested we just anchor outside of the breakwater, 1/4 mile down, in good mud. And that's what we did, although we found it to be a bit rolly.

Wickford is a favorite destination of one of our friends, and while it is a pretty little village chock full of Revolutionary War-time buildings and a very helpful harbormaster, a one night stay just about did it for me.

There are a few cute shops, a package store, a market selling deli and ready-to-serve meals, baked goods, and ice cream but no produce, and a Rite-Aid, but nothing in the way of real provisioning. There is no laundromat. There is a seafood market right as you come in from the mooring field. tYou can tie up at the public dock for two hours, but no water is available and I can't see why you would bother.

Newport

2010-07-15T10:27:00.000-04:00

Last year while here I could barely get out of the dinghy and daughter Beth could not believe how every joint she touched during my adjustment was blazing hot. So I am thankful for a good doctor, medications, and a supportive husband. This year the only thing wrong at Newport was the weather.

Anchoring spots are few and far between, and can be found near the Ida Lewis Yacht Club rock, behind a clearly buoyed cable line (be aware, though, there is another unmarked cable running through the anchorage marked on the chart; we have seen folks caught on it). You have to be brave, and skillful in choosing your spot. After much ado, if you sailors know what I mean, we made peace and dropped the hook.

We spent two days here sitting out one passing storm after another, but managed to get in lunch at the Black Pearl (chili, the best), a long walk, and a stop at the seafood market by the wharf where we bought steamers. Those one armed lobsters purchased at Cuttyhunk could be found here for $6.50 a pound, copious amounts of sea bass, swordfish and other delectables are available for reasonable prices and offerings are fresh, fresh, fresh!

There is a water float available to all to top off the tanks and loads of moorings, but come early to be assured of one. Shopping here is endless, but it is a very long walk to the grocery store and I have no idea where laundry can be found.

Cuttyhunk

2010-07-14T11:07:00.000-04:00

So many wonderful memories of Cuttyhunk, the long and treacherous walk to the top of the hill for the most incredible views, the $10 mooring, the fabulous and cheap lobster available at the dock, the tiny little muffins delivered by the harbormaster when he or she picked up the mooring fee in the morning. Well, at least the panorama remains the same...

Moorings are now $40, or $35 if you choose one outside the harbor (although the moorings are marked "$40" so perhaps it was discount day for us). You can offload garbage here for $5 a bag, and culls (one armed lobster) can be obtained for $9/pound. Ain't no muffins anymore.

But the walk, less tedious now that we walk everywhere and our old legs are accustomed, will still lead to beautiful vistas. Be sure to oil up with insect repellant as the deer tick bearing Lyme disease are reportedly abundant. We even got to see the Coast Guard station fire at Menemsha on Martha's Vineyard, with black smoke billowing from the fuel depot. It was interesting to hear the Mayday call put in to the Coast Guard by the Menemsha Harbormaster, you could feel his heart beating faster than a tiny bird being held in your hand.

Mattapoisett

2010-07-13T09:58:00.000-04:00

We had a good sail to Mattapoisett in Narragansett Bay to visit Peter's high school pal, Chuck, and his wife Kristin. Every visit with these guys results in at least one foolish session of over imbibing, followed by a morning where we had no idea what happened the night before. This visit was no different.
I would not feel so bad about this had Chuck not previously agreed to donate a part of his liver to me should my medication destroy mine. (Although he was under the influence at the time of this promise, he claims he stands by his generosity.)

Chuck and Kristin live in a delightful funky home that is called The Butterfly House by the locals, as it appears to have wings if viewed from afar. One of the less attractive qualities in a confused Grandfather's Clock that will really mess up your head as it chimes the incorrect time over and over. This is not a good thing particularly in the middle of one of "those" nights.

Butterfly House is bordered by beautiful views and inhabited by beautiful people. We already miss them.

Ahhh...Block Island

2010-07-05T16:58:00.005-04:00

Thirty two and a half hours after departing Atlantic City we entered the channel to New Harbor on Block Island. Hoping that by July 5th the holiday crowd would have cleared, we were disappointed to find the anchorage overflowing. We managed to find a spot; "there's always room for one more".

NOAA had predicted winds of 10-15 gusting to 20 for this trip, with seas 2-3 feet. Wind was off of our stern quarter, so we set the preventer to avoid the boom from being thrown over by the wind to the other side of the boat. We started out with one of those "so that is why we do this" wonderful sailing experiences.

But the wind built, and along with it, the seas. The 10-15 predicted became 20 gusting to near 30, and the seas were 6 feet, sometimes 8. This is not so bad when coming from behind your boat, unless the preventer fails, then you get a crashing, booming, scary-as-hell event you care never to experience more than once. So OK, it happened.

Fortunately, our boat is a workhorse and built like that infamous brick house. She did just fine. Of course, we decided to take down the sails and surf the crest of the waves, putting Mooch on the spot for excellent performance. Mooch (the engine) makes weird noises that I am absolutely in tune with when waves are from behind, but 8 foot waves make an extra weird noise, so I fretted over any little thing I could think of that might cause Mooch to go on holiday: dirty fuel, overheating (he never has), and oh yeah, our past due 1000 hour check up. Waay past due. And of course the Cap decides at this point to take a nap, leaving me alone in the cockpit. After about an hour I started to breath normally. I am a better woman for it and Mooch, once again, did not let me down.

So here we are at one of my favorite places on earth, and the trip is already a distant memory.

above, rounding Montauk Point

Atlantic City Farley/Trump Marina

2010-07-03T19:50:00.002-04:00

Don't come here. Enough said.

Goodbye Chesapeake, Hello New Jersey

2010-07-02T18:49:00.006-04:00

We made up an anchorage on the Sassafras River after bumping once or twice, and had a delayed departure the following morning when those nasty northerlies churned up a great big Chesapeake Bay chop. We had another nasty incident with one of the Pigs, our freezer, with that now troublesome piece of debris clogging up the works. Through the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, we anchored for the evening at our usual spot, Reedy Island in Delaware without any company. Then we hauled anchor at day break and had a glorious sail up the Delaware Bay, an uncommon experience. Riding the current most of the way with a beam reach put the Captain in heaven and gave Mooch a well deserved break.

We ran out of luck near the end of the Delaware and had a final slow slog into Cape May where we took one of the final comfortable anchorage spots. Well, comfortable except for the bouncing around in front of the Coast Guard station as the inconsiderate power boaters zoom by. Fortunately, this should die down as the sun sets.

It ain't the Bahamas, but at least in the Jersey waters you can put your feet into the water...

The Magothy to Rock Creek and House Plans

2010-07-01T14:24:00.005-04:00

We left Annapolis surrounded by hundreds of floating dead fish and 100 degree temperatures, perhaps the cause of the mass suicide. Because it was so hot, we anchored directly on the Magothy River off of Deep Creek but little relief was provided by any sort of breeze. We then scooted over to Rock Creek off of the Patapsco River and anchored by the Maryland Yacht Club. We have found the club to be very accommodating to us, maybe because of our City Island Yacht Club affiliation, permitting us to tie off the dink and access our rental car, and providing entry to Enterprise at their electronic gate.

We had a long ride to Irvington, Virginia to meet with our architect, Bill Prillaman, who has done a masterful job of tolerating us over the years as we have dreamed up and discarded plan after plan, while getting ready to cruise and while living our lives as vagabonds. Now that we are serious, he has delivered us a design plan that we are delighted with, and are proceeding to tweak just a tad to get it perfect for us. The plan: clear the lot this summer, start building in the late winter or early spring 2011.

Arrrggghh! A Father's Day Adventure

2010-06-26T17:32:00.012-04:00

The first time I saw Sea Gypsy of Pirate Adventures set sail in Annapolis Harbor, complete with 20 or so enthusiastic crew around the age of 5, I could not wait for Willow to sign on. So, nearly five years later, Willow, Lisa, Beth and I accompanied the celebrants, Dave and Aye-Aye (Willow's name for Peter)and set sail out of Back Creek for an hour and a half of treasure hunting.

Most of the kids were game for the costuming, including tatoos:

The crew was coached to sneak on the pirate ship, I was never clear why the sneaking was required but the kids got into it.

Once aboard, the flag was hoisted and of course, a treasure map discovered and studied for a floating treasure chest.

Before the plunder is shared, competing pirates are water hosed down. Willow would not take her spot at her own hose, as she said she did not want to make the bad guy mad at her and come after her.

The treasure chest is opened...the spoils are a big hit!

A good time was had by all, especially the grown ups.

Father's Day Weekend

2010-06-24T14:11:00.006-04:00

This was the third Father's Day celebrated with our family in Annapolis, once again with hotel accommodations arranged at one of the Historic Inns in town. I love these three little "hotels" which can be eitherly outrageously expensive or a bargain, depending upon some factor which I have been unable to determine but unrelated to the time of the visit. After Dave, Lisa and Willow arrived we had a late lunch and squeezed in a dinghy ride and visit to the end of Spa Creek to mess around in some sand.

We had a repeat visit to Tsunami, a wonderful sushi/seafood hotspot which I recalled served incredible food and liquid refreshments. I was not disappointed, and was successful in choosing a scrumptuous martini that conveniently matched my jewelry as well as satiating my one-drink-a-week creativity.

Who Knew?

2010-06-24T14:05:00.003-04:00

That the turtle my friend Bev and I found from Junkanoo in Nassau, which was lugged around the Bahamas all winter (to the chagrin of the Captain) was a female named Gracie?

Beth Arrives

2010-06-22T22:55:00.004-04:00

Daughter Beth is our favorite visitor, and this time, we were treated to our granddog Charley as well. Beth really "gets" why we live the sailing life, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, cocktails in the cockpit, a breeze blowing over the bunk as you tuck in for the evening with the gentle sway on the anchor and your puppy at your feet.

When it hit the upper 90's, though, Beth was wondering how in creation we put up with this nonsense and perhaps craving the comforts of her Soho hideaway just a little bit.

Back at Solomons

2010-06-21T17:22:00.003-04:00

After our vacation cruising around the nearby creeks, we returned to Mill Creek and concluded our mission of mercy with our friends the Tillmans, completing the car and boat shuffle between Deltaville and our docks. We pounded into a north wind and all its related aggravations to get to Solomons Island for an appointment at Zahnisers, where we accepted their advice to leave The Pigs alone. The consensus was the cost to remediate the randomly clogging debris in the evaporator given the one-time occurence just wasn't justified. Pray for me. We had a good consult with Mooch's Dad and will return for a Yanmar periodic tweeking in the fall.

We found friends on Cloverleaf docked up river on Back Creek and joined them for dinner at the CD Cafe. This is a great place, but you absolutely cannot hear yourself think. We will not go back. Hoping for a birthday dinner at Vincenzo's, we were disappointed to find they are only open Thursday through Sunday, and instead, joined Bev and Dave with their friends Janet and John from Arcadian at The Naughty Gull at Spring Cove Marina. I was surprised at how good the food was, but could have done without the trivial pursuit game being announced over a loudspeaker and played by persons unknown and unseen. I guess age is catching up with my lack of tolerance for noise.

Now, we need to rush to Annapolis to meet up with the kids and WILLOW!!! for a Father's Day/Birthday Celebration.

Indian Creek

2010-06-14T15:19:00.003-04:00

A couple of hours north of the Rappahannock you will find Indian Creek, home to the Indian Creek Yacht and Country Club as well as multiple fine, deep anchorages. We took on diesel at the Chesapeake Boat Basin, where I would not want to fuel up in strong winds unless you can turn on a dime.

We ignored the warnings about less than perfect holding at Pitman Cove and set the hook for the evening, sharing the spot with one other boat. It was hot! While fueling up I noticed an abundance of nettles here, which the dockhand promised would be gone within a few weeks. No swimming today.

Instead, we dinked around looking at houses and wildlife, with the ospreys squawking at each daymarker as we peaked at their new arrivals.

The Corrotoman

2010-06-11T10:18:00.005-04:00

A hop, skip and a jump down river from Carters Creek is the Corrotomon River, a little piece of heaven. Although in recent years there has been a lot of development here, it remains a wonderland of woodland hideaways and hidey-holes, with anchorages too numerous to count, most with deep water and few other boats to share your space.

We chose to anchor on the west side of the River opposite Bell Creek to wait out the 25-30 knots of weather and thunderstorms, neither of which ever happened here. We stayed for two days during which time the Captain attempted to fix one of the heads (key word here is attempt)and I can't tell you one thing that I accomplished. I guess that is the goal of retirement.

Carters Creek

2010-06-09T10:20:00.004-04:00

We left Prentice Creek and headed to our dock in order to avoid the nasty weather in store of us the following day when we retrieved the Tillman's car to pick them up at Deltaville. After concluding that mission we took off the next day at 7:30 for a long trip to get to Solomons to see Zahnisers, now with less urgency, and have dinner with Michel and Carole on Emotion 3. Not to happen...north winds on the Bay create a nasty chop and when combined with the wind on the nose when headed in the same direction, result in a very uncomfortable and slow ride. So, we headed south instead and landed at Carters Creek off of the Rappahannock River.

Carters Creek is home to The Tides Inn, a formerly grand resort that had fallen on hard times until its recent acquisition. Although we have not been there recently, it would appear to have been a successful investment for the new owners.

We anchored in Yopps Cove, the first tributary on the right, finding decent water in a typical Northern Neck anchorage of private homes lining the shores. A dinghy ride down adjacent Eastern Branch will lead you to Custom Yacht Services where you can tie up and walk into the town of Irvington. Here, you will find the Trick Dog restaurant, which despite its ambience and very good food at New York prices has turned over 3 times since we have been coming here. You will also find a Starbucks-like local coffee shop where you can buy newspapers and baked goodies, and several clothing boutiques...but no provisioning opportunities.