Thank You Captain

     Despite the rain all day, today was a pleasure to be on the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW).  We managed to get an early start at 0715 this morning at Hospital Point, Mile 0 on the ICW charts.  As with last year, we took the Virginia Cut, route 1 of the 2 available routes to the Albemarle Sound, which by the way is how we judge all waters when it comes to wind generated waves.  We didn't make it to Albemarle Sound today, but we did make it to Buck Island, our anchorage south of Coinjock, NC.  In the 58 miles we traveled today we only encountered 5 other boats heading south.  Last year we started our adventure 3 weeks later in mid October and were surrounded by many boats, 20 or more, on this the first leg.  This year we traveled for miles at times and never was passed by another boat.  We did have one "Chucklehead" who thought because we didn't slow down for him to pass us, he didn't have to slow down either.  Obviously he does not know the rules of the road or how to execute an easy pass, aka slow pass.  An easy pass first starts with the boat wanting to pass you contacting you by VHF radio.  After the details have been worked out, port or starboard side pass, the passing boat will approach your stern, at which time you the lead boat will slow down to idle speed.  The boat passing the lead boat slows down and passes on the predetermined side at a slow speed just faster than the lead's boat idle speed so as not to create a wake that would rearrange your galley from a wake that rolls you from side to side.  Having any part of your boat's interior rearranged by another boat's wake is not a good thing.  It's bad enough that Mother nature does it from time to time.  After he has passed you, you fall in behind his stern and the other boat resumes it's speed.  One boat that passed us today executed a perfect text book easy pass.  Thank you Captain.

Let Us In

     Some of the best news we had in a long time came yesterday in a phone call.  We had received a letter from our insurance agent for the boat about a month ago, and Sharon did a follow up email last week.  When Sharon didn't hear from the agent on Tuesday this week, she called and spoke with an agent we had worked with before.  Yesterday, the agent called back to inform us that we could not get the November 1/Cape Hatteras restriction changed to October 1st.  This restriction prohibits us from being south of Cape Hatteras before before November 1st due to hurricane season which expires on November 1st.  The good news is that we have changed the location from Cape Hatteras, NC to St. Marys in southern GA. Any further south and we would be in Florida. So on November 1st we plan to be knocking on Florida's front door.  Let Us In!

The Herding Effect

     This October will be our first anniversary as full time cruisers.  We have learned very much in that time.  However, we do realize that there is more to learn.  You can never be a consummate master of anything.  Part of the learning curve is recognizing tendencies of other boaters.  This is especially true when it comes to anchoring, one of my favorite subjects.  While in the Bahamas, I paid special attention to our anchor and gear, learning how it reacted to different influences such as tides or winds.  It's surprising, when the water is very clear, to see how the boat is oriented into the wind because of your rode, in our case chain, and the relationship of the boat to the actual location of the anchor.  On numerous occasions I noted that although we were in a light breeze, enough to put tension on the rode, the anchor was actually resting to either side of the boat or under the boat.  On most occasions, the rode served more as an anchor than the anchor itself.

    When selecting an anchorage to drop the hook, the exact location can be dictated by tides (currents) and/or the winds for most boaters.  Some boaters select a very close, tight anchorage for absolute wind protection, as if they have an auto-defense mechanism to ward off the bugs laying in wait to suck out their blood.  We prefer, and it has been well documented in this blog, wide open anchorages, to allow for the slightest breeze to flush out any heat within the boat that has been generated by the sun.  Remember when I mentioned tendencies of other boaters?  We have discovered a tendency of boaters when they approach an anchorage with another boat already at anchor i.e., Big Run.  The new arrival, despite it being a very large anchorage, capable of holding many, many boats, will anchor right next to you, let's say 200 feet away or less.  Then as more boats arrive, they too will anchor next to you and any other boats that are already anchored.  It's like you know something special about the anchorage, and they want to be part of it too and anchor next to you despite the fact that you do not know them.  Never mind the other 20 acres that they could anchor in, they need to be next to someone.  We have dubbed this phenomenon the "Herding Effect".

Upgrade

 Morse Code III weighing anchor at Dun Cove

       On Wednesday, Sharon and I unofficially started our trek south.  We left Reed Creek on the Chester River by 8 a.m.  By 10:30 we were transisting Kent Narrows and shortly after that we were on Eastern Bay with an ultimate destination of the Choptank River. As we were approaching Tilghman Point on Eastern Bay we noticed a Kadey Krogen 48 approaching us from Miles River on our port side.  After they rounded the point, that put the other Krogen (Morse Code III) on our stern.  Once they were on our stern and could read our boat name, they hailed us.  Long story short, they were head to the Choptank also and asked if they could tag along as they were "new" to the area.  After being pounded by 3-4 foot waves on the bow that were supposed to be 1 footers and a severe downpour, Big Run and Morse Code III dropped anchor together at Dun Cove on Harris Creek.  After we were all settled in, Morse Code invited Sharon and I over to their boat.  Much to our surprise, we discovered the boat was brand new and had just been commissioned less than a month ago at Annapolis, MD.  Congratulations and fair winds to Perry and Karen, the proud owners of Morse Code III.  Oh, that new boat smell, just like a new car smell, the aroma is intoxicating and beckons for you to upgrade.

M/V Nellie Crockett

     This is M/V Nellie Crockett of Georgetown, MD.  In the above photo she is shown underway during an evening cruise on the East Langford Creek, a tributary of the Chesapeake Bay on the eastern shore.  Built in 1926 (some reports list 1925), the Nellie Crockett is a classic frame-and-plank Chesapeake deadrise buy boat with a length of 61.6 feet, a beam of 22.33 feet, and a draft of 6.42 feet.  Her gross tonnage is 52 tons with a net of 35 tons.  Operating as a buy boat in oyster season, the Nellie Crockett would navigate the waters of the Chesapeake Bay buying oysters directly from the oystermen as they worked the oyster beds.  In the off-season she would transport produce and lumber.  During World War II she served as a fire boat for the US Coast Guard in the ports of the Chesapeake Bay.  Today, the Nellie Crockett is listed as a National Historic Landmark.

The Coast Of Africa

     On Sunday morning, in what was to have been the trailing effects of Hurricane Irene as she moved up the coast towards New England, we were battered with some of the strongest gusts of the storm.  As the day progressed the winds began to calm down, and we ventured out of the boat to check for damage.  Although we never did feel the brunt of the storm, and slept through what was thought to be the time frame of peak sustained winds, the boat was free of damage.  [Insert big sigh of relief.]  By Sunday afternoon, Sharon and I began to reassemble the boat.  Sunday evening was very calm with no wind, and the water was dead flat calm.  You never would have thought that just 12 hours prior we were experiencing some very stout winds from the NW.  The only immediate tell tale sign of the storm for us was that the water was littered with leaves and small branches.  However, on Monday the waters turned chocolate brown with silt from the rain runoff.  Our little world was intact, but the outside world was dealing with massive power outages, 100 year floods, downed trees and other hurricane damage. From all reports, it appears New England suffered the most damage from Hurricane Irene, because of the extensive flooding, although when she arrived in New England, Hurricane Irene had been downgraded to a tropical depression.  Now, the National Weather Service is tracking yet another "storm", Katia,  just off the coast of Africa.  

Goodnight Irene

     It was last Tuesday, the day of the earthquake on the east coast, that Sharon and I decided to continue our trek north.  We decided to head back to Rock Hall for a couple of reasons, but the most pressing reason was Hurricane Irene.  We arrived at Reed Creek on the Chester River late Wednesday afternoon because we were waiting for favorable tide conditions to transit through Kent Narrows Bridge.  That's one place you definitely want the current on your bow.  After anchoring on Reed Creek and getting a weather update on Hurricane Irene, we decided that our favorite gunkhole on the Langford Creek would make for a better hurricane hole.  When you live on a boat you have three options with respect to hurricanes:  1) go to a marina, 2) have the boat hauled out on to land, or 3) go find a hurricane hole and ride out the storm on the hook,   We chose the latter.  We moved up to Millstone Point on Thursday and spent the entire day on Friday preparing the boat for Category 1 hurricane conditions.  The bimini canvas and frame were removed from the flybridge,  the mast was lowered and the kayaks each recieved additional strapping.  Next we took care of everything on the foredeck and cockpit.  Basically, if we thought it was possible for the wind to pick something up, we stowed it inside the boat.  We even got out the duct tape and closed off some vents and hatches that we thought wind driven rain could use to enter the boat.  Our next task was to set up our 2-anchor design for winds clocking from the NE to the N and then to the NW as Hurricane Irene moved up the east coast.  Our main anchor, a 66 lb. Bruce anchor, was set with 175 feet of chain to a northeasterly direction from the boat's location.  The second anchor, which we will call a storm anchor, is a very large Danforth style anchor.  The Danforth was set to the northwest of the boat with 210 feet of 1" triple braid.  Along with about 100 other small tasks, our hurricane preparations were complete.

      Saturday, the day of Hurricane Irene's arrival, was a day of waiting.  The morning started overcast but very calm.  Gradually, as the morning wore on, the wind started as a very light breeze.  The rain started at 10:30 a.m. as a drizzle, and you could start to see the leaves turning on the trees from the increase in the wind.  By 1:00 p.m., the rain was a little heavier, and the boat was starting to react to the stronger wind.  That afternoon Sharon and I decided to prepare a "ditch bag" with the essentials, a laptop, portable VHF radio, GPS unit, flashlight and other keepsakes.  We also dressed for the occasion with our quick drying kayak clothing.  By 5:00 p.m. the wind was very strong and the rain was much heavier.  For dinner we had some of Sharon's delicious chilli and corn beard.  By 7:00 p.m. the winds were very strong, in the 40-50 mph range with gust to 60 mph.  We hunkered down and maintained a vigil on the anchor and the TV.  The local stations had gone to full time coverage of the hurricane with reports from Baltimore, Annapolis, Easton and Ocean City, MD.  At times we found the field reports very amusing, and we waited with anticipation of one young man's reports from Ocean City, MD.  After a short nap by yours truly at midnight, Sharon and I called it quits at 12:30 a.m. and said "Goodnight Irene"

What's Next?

     The above photo is one that was taken one week ago on Monday.  As we were heading north on the Chesapeake Bay to the Choptank River, we were watching weather radar as storms approached us from the west.  The photo is of a funnel cloud that we watched develop from infancy.  Of the 6 photos I took,  this is the best photo and shows it's early development. Although it never matured into a tornado or a water spout, it did command our attention.

     Today, as Sharon and I were working on the boat we experienced a series of vibrations go through the boat.  Each set of vibrations were stronger than the previous set.  Once again, as with the Great Dismal Swamp smoke, I found myself making a general inspection of the boat and found nothing to cause alarm.  Later in the day, Sharon discovered on the internet that we had experienced our first earthquake.  Apparently a 5.8 magnitude earthquake 100 miles away can create enough of a shock wave in the water to feel it rumble through the boat.

     This next weekend, on Sunday, just in case we get bored, we are expecting to up the excitement a little with the arrival of Hurricane Irene.  Funnel clouds, earthquakes and hurricanes, what's next?

M/V Lowe Key

This is M/V Lowe Key of Cambridge, MD.  She is a 1986 Kadey Krogen, hull #93.  Shown here anchored on Dun Cove, Harris Creek on the Choptank River.

I Want One

       We left the Potomac River on Monday and were cruising north on the Chesapeake Bay, almost due east of Solomons, MD when I turned for unknown reasons in time to see these two boats approaching us from the stern.  I do not know what they are, they look like a government experimental craft.  They are very fast and I want one.

Rain, Damn It, Rain

     Here's the situation - you live on a boat.  You're anchored 1/4 mile from shore.  You're asleep in your stateroom.  Hey, it doesn't get any better than that, but wait, you're awakened by the smell of smoke.  It's not the typical smell of  smoke you would expect on a boat.  You might expect to smell smoke from an electrical fire, or,  in the case of Big Run, the raunchy smell of burning fiberglass, but that's not the case.  This smoke has the smell of a campfire or a fire burning in the fireplace.  Well, you live on boat.  You don't take a chance.  Everything has to be investigated, even if it's 3 a.m.  You make a general inspection and nothing, but you still smell smoke so you stick your head out the pilothouse door.  Low and behold, the boat is surrounded by a heavy haze that you can see because of the full moon that has the night lit up like day.  That heavy haze is smoke, and it has penetrated every nook and cranny of the boat. You retire back to bed but are awakened repeatedly through the night as the stench grows stronger.

      The next morning you learn the Dismal Swamp in North Carolina is burning after a lighting strike starts a bush fire, but Big Run is on the Potomac River, between Maryland and Virginia. The Dismal Swamp is 100 miles to the south.  Thanks to some strong southerly winds, the smoke has migrated north blanketing the entire region. Later that morning, the Coast Guard station at Norfolk makes an announcement that they have closed the Intra-Coastal Waterway (ICW) to boating traffic due to the fire.  Additional reports on the internet quote the authorities saying the fire is 10% contained and, without help from mother nature, the fires could burn for weeks, or because of the area being so remote, months!  So a plea goes out to Mother Nature, rain, damn it, rain!

For All To See

      After departing Washington, DC, our plans were to return to Mt. Vernon and take the tour of George Washington's estate.  Once again we anchored in front of Mt. Vernon, directly in front of the home.  We then lowered the dinghy from the top deck so that we could get an early start the next morning.  Our research on the internet reported the estate was open at 8 a.m. for tours.  The next morning we took the dinghy to the Mt. Vernon docks only to find that the estate did not open till 9 a.m.  We decided to go exploring on a nearby creek, Little Hunting Creek, which was a nice way to kill some time.  Finally, at 9 a.m. we returned to the docks to start our tour.  Mt. Vernon estate (grounds) has dramatically changed since my visit there many years ago.  We toured the home which has not changed in many years and for reasons unknown to me they do not allow you to take photos of the interior, I should have asked why.  We were very disappointed with the outbuildings as the ones we did visit were reconstructed buildings.  We were impressed with the new visitor's center that was built recently and includes a museum and an educational center, both are highly recommended.  The visitor's center is away from George's house and is very well hidden from the home and surroundings, separating the old from the new.  After returning to the boat we discovered that we did not take many pictures, due to all the photo restrictions, but we did get a photo of Big Run anchored in front of George's house for all to see

View of the Potomac River (and Big Run) from the porch of Mt Vernon.

Dust Pan and Brush

     We spotted these two vessels on the Potomac River as we were departing from Washington, DC.  From their markings, one can decipher that they are operated by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.  The vessel in the upper photo with a basket mounted on a forklift type hydraulic unit will scoop up large branches and logs floating in the water.  The vessel in the lower photo is of the same design, however for this operation has a small barge attached in the front.  The upper vessel scoops up the debris and deposits the material on the barge of the lower vessel.  Just think of it as a very expensive dust pan and brush.

Around Town

     Pictorial essay of our adventure in and around Washington, DC.

 

 Smithsonian Institute - "The Castle" tower.

Sharon playing the role of a tourist and checking the official tour map!

Washington Monument

The Capitol dome.

 



Statue at northwest corner of US Capitol.

World War II Memorial

Ceiling of Statutory Hall - US Capitol

Smithsonian American Art Museum (3rd floor)