Checkbook

     "Wasting away in Brunswick" could be the title of this blog entry.  It's been a long time since I posted but marina life can be very dull and boring for extended periods of time.  Marina life does not provide much fodder for blogs.  The best thing that has happened is we now have neighbors on our dock that are good people. Up until the new arrivals we were the only ones on our dock.  Did my deodorant stop working?   We have never been ones to spend time in a marina and the extended stay we are experiencing right now rivals digging ditches, warm beer and overcooked steak.  There is also the marina politics, read dealing with obnoxious boaters.  While 99.9% of boaters are wonderful people, you always have that .1% - the jerks, the slobs and the world-revolves-around-me idiots.  I know that this also happens when you are a land dweller, you always have at least one SOB in the neighborhood.  Fortunately, some of those undesirables have left the marina, but give it time, they will be replaced by others.  In a marina the .1% are much closer and their actions have a more immediate consequence on a already unbearable situation.  Now, lets throw in high temperatures, off the chart humidity and man-eating bugs, welcome to Brunswick marina life.

      At least when we are on the hook there are things happening all around us.  It may be the birds or the dolphins and manatees that provide the entertainment.  When you're on the hook you also have a better chance of catching a breeze and it always seems cooler out on the water away from land.  Right now, our salvation is our Annie, who can take a terrible situation (marina life) and turn it into some the best laughter we had in a long time.

     On another note, we've had two couples look at the boat earlier this month.   No offers.  The one couple came down from North Carolina.  They already have a 43' sailboat that needs to be sold first.  They will put a "For Sale" sign on the boat when they get home!  The other couple, well, we don't want to get my blood pressure up.  All is not lost, on Sunday we have a 2 o'clock showing.  Monday we have a 12 noon showing and a 4 o'clock showing.  Hopefully, someone will bring their checkbook.

Liveaboards

    We have been back in the "land of abundance" for about 2 weeks and there are still adjustments to be made.  We left Miami on Tuesday a week ago and traveled north to Brunswick, GA.  In our travels north we encountered too many bridges, most of which are on a fixed schedule requiring us to hurry Big Run to the next bridge for yet another scheduled opening.  Arrive too early and you have to do what I call the bridge dance.  The bridge dance is jockeying the boat around while you wait for the bridge opening, and as you are waiting you are combating the currents and wind while confined in a narrow channel.  We even encountered another bascule bridge being builtt so that will be another bridge to add to our bridge routes.  We have routes to all the bridges that are on scheduled openings.  This way we can monitor our progress on the chartplotter to the next bridge to see if we need to slow down or speed up.  In Big Run's case, it's usually speed up.  By the way, there are too many bridges in Florida that we need openings to pass through.

     For those of you that have followed this blog, I hope your are sitting down.  We will be in a marina for the summer instead of traveling north on the ICW to the Chesapeake Bay.  This will be an adjustment for us as we love being on the hook.  Since becoming "full time cruisers" in October 2010, we have averaged less than 4 weeks per year tied up to a dock in a marina.  We may have to change our status to "liveaboards"!

Emergency Repairs

     Over the last few months I have discussed the woes of boating, in particular from the maintenance point of view.  We had our major mechanical malfunction while in the Bahamas with the ruptured oil cooler for the transmission resulting in catastrophic transmission failure.  This past Friday I installed a new fresh water pump for the domestic side of the boat.  You know, so that we can take a shower, wash dishes or flush a toilet.  The old pump needs a complete overhaul including the pressure switch and, once it has been overhauled by yours truly, will be placed in the boat's inventory as a spare.  We carry many spares and with Big Run spending most of the time on the hook and traveling to remote areas (read Bahamas), we need to carry a large inventory of spares.  Back to the new water pump.  Less than 24 hours after being put into service, as Sharon was taking a shower, the pump failed.  After diagnosing the new pump I discovered that the pressure switch, for one reason or another, had failed.  Fortunately,  the pressure switch from the old pump was still good.  Now, we need to remove the new pump, reinstall the faulty pressure switch and return the entire unit to the vendor that supplied it to our marina where we had purchased the pump.  

     After our transmission "adventure" I started thinking about preventive maintenance and how much is enough.  I had once asked Rick (M/V Broulee) "How much preventive maintenance is enough?"  Rick just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.  I replaced the water pump as a preventive maintenance measure and what do I get?  More aggravation.  For anyone thinking about a boating lifestyle, you may want to reconsider boating if you lack a mechanical and electrical background.  You must also understand that you are on call 24/7 for emergency repairs.

Back In The Exumas

     This past week has been very busy with land adventures and adventures on the water.  On Sunday we traveled through the Dismal Swamp Canal.  The canal is a little like the interstate, straight and boring.  Sunday afternoon we found a free dock in Portsmouth and waited for Joe & Ann on S/V Short Walk to arrive on Monday.  Short Walk arrived just in time to take one of the last two free dock spaces.  That evening we dined at the Bier Garden where we enjoyed some wonderful German cuisine. 

      Tuesday was a new adventure as we toured the Battleship Wisconsin.  Joe at 6'4" and myself at 6' found it difficult to navigate the decks because of the low overheads.  Joe, a former serviceman of the Navy, was able to get around better than myself.  Thanks to hardhats, we all walked away without injury.

     Tuesday night was a planned outing that exceeded our expectations.  The four of us went to The Commodore Theatre in Portsmouth.  This theatre was restored to an art deco design of the 40's with an additional flair of having tables instead of rows of theatre seating.  On each table was a telephone, your direct connection to the kitchen.  Call in your order, dine at your table before the movie, and if you tell the kitchen to hold your desert, it will be served part way through the movie.  What a unique experience!  The movie - The Hunger Games - my rating 6 out of 10.

     Wednesday morning came at 6a.m. as we prepared to run the Chesapeake Bay non-stop.  We did this last year because of the weather and did it again this year for the same reason.  With a little push from the winds and favorable tides at the right times we got back to Long Cove Marina on Thursday morning at 7:10a.m.  That was 3 hours better than last year's run.

     Thursday morning was a time of recuperation but on Friday it was boat work, boat work, boat work.  Saturday was boat washing day before the rains came!  Now, it's time to get back out on the hook.  The next three weeks will be spent painting teak and whatever other work we can manage to do.  Who said "Let's Go Boating!"  Who knows, but maybe I'll get a chance to kick back with a cold beer and watch a sunset reminiscing that I was back in the Exumas (Bahamas).

On the foredeck of Battleship Wisconsin

Hard working woman

The ladies take a stroll on the fantail

Joe & Ann (S/V Short Walk) at Commodore Theatre

The Rest Is History

     The story has been told once or twice, or even more, but it does warrant another time because it was purely a chance encounter.  Sharon and I were on our inaugural trip south on the ICW.in 2010.   Somewhere in the vicinity of Cocoa Beach, FL we were passed by a sailboat.  Yes, I said passed by a sailboat.  When you're a slow boat to China, aka a trawler, you do get passed by other boats that are traditionally slower than yourself.  But in this case, being passed by this sailboat was a very good thing.  After being passed, the sailboat's Admiral, Ann, hailed us because of our boat name and our hailing port.  We are Big Run with a hailing port of Rock Hall, MD, and they are Short Walk with a hailing port of Furlong, PA.  Okay, the hailing ports don't match but they do keep their boat in Rock Hall, MD.  It's all about the boat  names. We chatted on the radio with them for awhile.  As these two slow boats traveled south on the ICW that afternoon, we were never separated by much distance, and soon it was time to look for an anchorage.  Both Short Walk and Big Run shared an anchorage that night at Pine Island which included an impromptu happy hour, and the rest is history. 

New Challenges

     "Everyday is an adventure......." so goes our motto, and with each day comes a new challenge, but at 7a.m. when I'm hauling the anchor I don't need any new challenges.

The one that did get away.  Length - 16 feet.  Weight - extra heavy.  New Big Run record.

Long Haul

      Monday was a good day as we cruised from Lake Worth to Stuart, FL.  Around 6 pm we dropped anchor at the Sandpiper Marina.  Dropping anchor at a marina is not the norm, but then we do things a little different on Big Run.  We came to this marina because this is where our very good friends Rick, Deb & Izzy are staying.  As we approached the marina, Rick hailed us on the radio to guide us through the skinny water, and Izzy helped as morale officer.  It was a bitter sweet moment.  Sweet because we could see Rick and Izzy.  Bitter in that our reunion would have to wait until the next day when we went into the marina and got a slip.  Deb was flying back from Arizona on Monday, so our reunion on Tuesday morning would be complete.  It had been just over a year since we last saw them down in the Florida Keys.  Before we entered the slip on Tuesday morning we went to the fuel dock for some fuel and were greeted by Rick, Deb & Izzy for an abbreviated reunion.  The official reunion came later after we docked our boat in the slip.

     The last three days have been spent reprovisioning the boat and boat maintenance/repairs.  Our first order of business on Tuesday was a trip to the grocery store.  Rick and Deb lent us their SUV to run errands, so the car was in constant use by everyone.   While in the Bahamas we purchased produce and a few other items but we lived on the stores we had on board.  Our planning last year allowed us to carry enough food for 5 months and, after 17 weeks in the Bahamas, our selections for meals were becoming limited.  For our first trip to the grocery store we filled 2 grocery carts.  After loading those groceries into the car, we returned and filled another cart. We spent over three hours transporting the groceries from the car to the boat and stowing away all the groceries.  Then on Wednesday, we went to a different grocery store and filled another grocery cart. I am proud to say that Big Run is finally reprovisoned to the max and with our additional storage containers we purchased on Tuesday, we're good to go for another long haul. 

Bahamas Crazy

     Twenty six hours and thirty minutes.  Non-stop.  That's how long it took us to exit the Bahamas and back to Florida. Forget about the previous 10 days while the transmission was being repaired.  Our departure was Saturday at 7a.m.  This time we left Nassau with a buddy boat, M/V Esperanza.  Just in case.  The buddy boat scenario was beneficial for both boats, Big Run had the transmissions issues, the other boat also had mechanical issues while in the Bahamas.  They had their repairs done in Highbourne Cay and traveled to Nassau before getting held up waiting for a weather window.  By Saturday mid-afternoon, both boats had crossed the Tongue of the Ocean to the waypoint, NW Channel.  Here, we parted company as the other boat went onto Bimini.  We on the other hand made our way to Mackie Shoal, also on the Great Bahama Bank.  By 11:30p.m. we were at our last waypoint in the Bahamas, Hens and Chickens.  From there, we made the final push across the Straits of Florida to Palm Beach on Lake Worth.  Twenty six hours and thirty minutes.  At times the seas were calm, and there were times the sea reminded us she was in charge.  There were two occasions the sea was a "little" bumpy, first, they were a beamy sea for awhile when we left Nassau, and the second time was around 3 a.m. as we crossed the straits and it continued to be bumpy until we entered Lake Worth Inlet on Sunday at 9 a.m..  The slow moving cold front that was to make its slow trek across Florida on Sunday afternoon arrived Sunday morning bring stout winds over the seas from the SW.  So much for weather predictions.  Twenty six hours and thirty minutes.  All the time we were making the crossing, one million different things ran through my mind.  The transmission.  The engine.  The transmission.  The navigation computer.  The transmission.  Prior to our departure, I had gone over most of the systems.  I replaced the raw water impeller for the engine because it was missing 2 vanes.  I load tested the transmission one more time for fifteen minutes while we were in the slip.  I replaced a fuel filter for the fuel polishing system because it seemed like a good idea.  Many things were checked and double checked.  Twenty six hours and thirty minutes.  And now we're counting the hours and minutes until we return.  Yes, we're Bahamas crazy!

The Event at Mackie Shoal

The Game Winning Edition

     Leaving Plain Bay and Black Point was difficult, but not as difficult as leaving Nassau.  We had arrived in Nassau by way of Highborne Cay on Friday and crossed the Yellow Bank to Nassau on Saturday.  While in Nassau we did some provisioning for the boat, bought some more snorkeling gear and visited downtown Nassau and the infamous Strawmarket.  On Monday we treated ourselves to an excursion to Atlantis and the casino.  All of our winnings were graciously refunded back to the casino at the one-arm-bandits.  Monday evening included docktails with about 15 others boaters from the marina.

     Tuesday, we had a small weather window to cross the Tongue Of The Ocean.  Our plan was to leave late in the morning, cross the Tongue and continue through the night across the Great Bahama Bank to arrive at sunrise in Bimini.  Our departure was around 11am and the seas were 5 foot swells at 8 second intervals out of the NE as we traveled to the NW.  Yes, the ride was a little "bumpy", but very manageable, so we made like a sailboat and were tacking across the sea to minimize the seas' effect.  Around 1:30 pm, the engine started to surge from 1500 RPM to 1800 RPM.  Quite an unusual surge, so I raced back to the cockpit to see if there was any prop wash.  The prop wash looked okay indicating that we were still underway.  I quickly returned to the pilothouse where the engine continued to surge.  My next inclination was to shift the transmission into neutral, which stopped the engine from surging.  Okay, the surge was transmission related, off to the engine room.  No smoke, no odors, everything seemed fine.  Back to the pilothouse where I engaged the transmission and nothing happened.  Our SOG (speed over ground) continued to fall off indicating we had lost propulsion.  This time I went to the saloon and opened the floor hatches to access the engine room.  Once I had the hatch(s) open, I asked Sharon to engage the transmission - nothing, nada, zilch, caput. No propeller shaft turning, the transmission died.  At this point in time, we are 12 miles out to sea in 2500 meters of water, and the seas were buffeting the boat on the beam, from the side.  After a few minutes, I grabbed the radio and issued a distress call for assistance.  And like the engine's transmission -NOTHING.  All attempts to hail for assistance by VHF radio fell on deaf ears.  I then decided to call  the marina we had just left by cell phone, before we lost phone coverage.  I was able to contact the dockmaster but he was of no help.  Can you imagine a dockmaster with many years of experience, and he can't help you with a tow service to call.  Finally, I hailed BASRA (Bahama Air Sea Rescue Association) who said they would contact a tow vessel for us, but in the meantime, he was going to address another emergency that was more important than us who were adrift on the open sea.  Finally at 3:45pm, BASRA hailed that they had secured a tow vessel to rescue us.  The captain of the tow vessel then contacted us by VHF and instructed us he was on his way to pick up his crew and his tow vessel.  He would need to fuel up the boat before he could come for us.  When I asked what his ETA was for our location he estimated he would be there around 5:00 pm.

         As late afternoon dragged on, the winds were increasing and so were the waves.  The 5' swells at 8 second intervals were now turning into 6-8' seas hitting Big Run on the beam, the side of the boat, causing the boat to violently roll from side to side.  At times I would look at our clinometer, which indicated how much the boat is heeling over or leaning to one side or the other.  45 DEGREES of roll to one side and 45 DEGREES roll back over to the other side then again back to the other and so on, continuously.  If we did this once, we did it a hundred times through the whole ordeal.  As we rolled to port and back to starboard, anything and everything in the boat that wasn't secured was tossed about.

     At 5;30 pm I hailed the tow vessel, the captain said he was on his way and would be there in 15 minutes.  While I had the captain on the radio I confirmed with him our GPS location.  Shortly thereafter, the tow captain called to tell us he could see us off of his starboard bow.  Again, I confirmed our current "adrift" GPS location.  10 minutes later I hailed the captain to ask for his location, he replied with his GPS location.  When I checked his location against our location on the chart he was 2 miles due south of us and traveling west!  I once again hailed the tow captain and asked him to repeat back to me my GPS location, which he did correctly.  How did the captain end up in the wrong location and traveling in the wrong direction is still a mystery to me as I write this.  About 6 pm, I finally spotted a very small boat heading our way.  I quickly hailed the captain to confirm it was the tow boat heading in our direction.  Once he confirmed it was his boat coming to rescue us, I asked the captain about his equipment and tow line.  The tow captain confirmed he had a 26 foot Mako with two 225 Yamahas and about 80 feet of line.  When he arrived on scene I was in total shock.  The boat was a 1980 vintage something sport fishing boat, you know the kind your grandfather took fishing when you went to the ol' farm pond.  The tow line was three lines tied together, each of a different length and diameter.  Not the warm fuzzy felling your hoping for.  Within a short time we were being towed back to Nassau at 4.5 knots - not bad. Around 7pm the tow line broke lose from the tow vessel but the first mate quickly made repairs and we were underway again.  Around 7:30pm I noticed one of the twin outboards had stopped running!  The only thing left for tow vessel to do was sink.

      For the next 3 1/2 hours, as we were being towed on the open sea with a one engine tow vessel, we were hit from every possible angle by the sea.  At times we could see the tow boat, on top of a wave, well over the top of our bow pulpit.  In the daytime you can see the waves coming and prepare yourself, but at night it's like being blindsided with a sucker punch.  

      By 10 pm we were entering the Nassau harbor, and the sea was still getting in its last punches.  As we entered the turning basin. the area used by the XXXL cruise ships to turn around, the captain hailed us and informed us he was taking us over to the south side of the basin where he instructed us to drop our anchor because his tow vessel was running out of fuel!  What!  After dropping anchor at 10:30 pm, Sharon and I were able to able to grab something to eat.  It was only 15 hours since we ate breakfast.  For the next 2 hours, and although we were in relatively calm waters,  we were still on edge for that next wave to come out of no where.  Finally at 12:30 am, the tow captain returned, and we continued with the tow.  At 1 am, as planned, we changed over from a line tow to a hip tow.  It's called a hip tow because the tow vessel comes along side the disabled vessel and is attached with line to the disabled vessel.  With the hip tow, the captain informed us we have only one chance to make it into the slip he had reserved for us.  I didn't bother to ask the tow captain what would happen if we missed it on the first try.  I guess I didn't want to know.    At 1:30 am Wednesday morning, 12 hours after it all began, Big Run, only slightly battered and bruised, was safely secured to the dock.  The crew, well let's just say it was another adventure right out Hell's Playbook, the game winning edition.

Hell's Playbook

      Quite often you’ll hear us speaking about the weather and how moving the boat from one location to another is directly related to the weather.  The weather also plays a major factor while at anchor.  Especially if you want a good night’s sleep.  Every once in a while in the Bahamas a “cold front” will move in from Florida slicing its way across the islands.  Saturday was no different.

       Earlier in the week we started hearing reports of a cold front approaching and how the winds would clock around.  When the weather gurus speak of winds clocking around, as in this case, the winds will be from the NE then move to an E or SE direction.  The winds may continue to clock around to the S and to the SW, then onto the W and NW.  So, winds clocking around, no big deal until you start talking wind speed.  Now you have every cruiser’s attention.  For this particular cold front, the days leading up to the front were supposed to be calm.  Take for example Thursday’s forecast was  for E 5-7 knots building to 7-10 knots and Friday’s forecast was E 6-11 knots.  The weather report on Thursday also included Saturdays forecast of SW 8-10 knots clocking WNW 10-14 knots and then in the evening NNW 9-13 knots. Thursday lived up to its predictions.  On Friday, the winds also came as predicted. The Saturday forecast as given on Friday was SW 10-14 knots clocking WNW 9-12 and continuing to clock around NNW at 10-14 knots.   Yes, I know, a lot of numbers being thrown at you all at once.  Believe me, the forecast for Saturday never changed dramatically, we keep a log of the weather (wind & direction)  predictions.

        Now, here is what happened as I think of how I lived through it.  The forecast didn’t change but mother nature changed her mind, and she was very angry.  It all started around 3am Saturday morning with the boat hobby horsing (pitching – bow rising up and down) as the winds were blowing out of the SW at 15 knots.  15 knots isn’t bad except for the fetch.  The distance from the nearest land mass to our west, Andros (Bahamas) was too far away to offer any wind break, about 50 miles too far away.  This allowed the wind to really whip up the waves, as in 1-3 feet with 2-4 footers added in for good measure.  As the day dragged on the winds picked even more.  Now we are talking 15-20 knots  and gusting much more.  Wait, that’s not what the weather reports were predicting.  The actually weather conditions were twice as bad as forecast.  Our buddy boat, Short Walk,  in the anchorage  with us, gave us a wind conditions report late Saturday afternoon – 21 knots gusting to 27 knots.  Now we are dealing with waves in the anchorage of 2-4 feet with 3-5 footers to kick your ass!   

        Our day consisted of lying down in berths for most of the day.  It was too far dangerous to move about the boat.  At times, from the master suite, in the bow of the boat, I could look out to the stern and see the dinghy above the transom because the bow of Big Run was rising that far out of the water, lowering the stern.  The dinghy was on the crest of a different wave above the transom, all simultaneously.   The top of our transom is 4 feet plus above the waterline.  Let’s not forget the waves that attacked from the sides causing the boat to violently roll from side to side. It’s called a confused sea!  In a nutshell, the boat was pitching up and down and rolling from side to side at the same time.  When I did venture up to the pilothouse, I could see that we were very close to burying the bow’s pulpit in the waves as the boat pitched.  On a normal day the pulpit is 8 feet above the water.  

      Later in the evening as the winds clocked to the NW and we were protected by land mass, the boat turned into the wind with a NW heading.  And what about the waves rolling in from the west because of the westerly winds that day?  Yes, they were still rolling in from the west that evening as the  boat pointed north, and Big Run rolled side to side through the night.  Sometimes the rolls were  very abrupt, 30 degrees roll from one side to 30 degree roll to the other side. That’s a 60 degree arc! 

      The ordeal lasted about 24 hours.  This was worse than any crossing we have ever done, and the worse night on the hook we have ever had.  We survived this ordeal only because we are dedicated to this lifestyle of being full time cruisers.

      This was not a angry mother nature, this was a page from hell’s playbook.

This is S/V Short Walk on the hook being tossed during the blow.

Where We Want To Be

     Update on the watermaker.  The membrane was replaced yesterday and no joy.  Our new best friend in Florida at Murray Marine suspects the pump head is fouled.  A replacement pump head and other running spares are being drop shipped to our friends Ken & Cindy (S/V Meant To Be) in Brunswick, GA.  Our frustration level has been surpassed by the problems we are experiencing with the watermaker.  However, looking back since we have installed the watermaker, it has kept us out of marinas and on the hook, exactly where we want to be. 

First Anniversary

     Today marks our first anniversary as full time cruisers.  It has been a tremendous adventure, and it shows no signs of slowing down.  Just yesterday, after anchoring in a very small creek with swift currents, Sharon made the comment that last year we would not have attempted such a maneuver.  The experiences and knowledge we have gained over the last year have been invaluable.  This year as we travel south once again on the ICW, our confidence level soars.  We consider this to be our sophomore year, but we keep our enthusiasm in check knowing very well that we must maintain a vigil for it is too easy to have a mishap while on the water that could result in unwanted consequences.

    The greatest benefit of our cruising experiences is the people we meet.  Just the other day we made an acquaintance with a gentleman in Wrightsville Beach.  We swapped stories with him at the dock and as we parted company he extended not only his hand in friendship, he also volunteered his time if we needed assistance getting around the area.  This does not happen in every port we stop at, but we do frequently meet people that are genuine and sincere.  Not wanting to forget some of the special ones are the people we meet on the water, our fellow boaters.  In particular, our mentors in the Bahamas, Rick & Deb on M/V Broulee. Rick and Deb (& Izzy the dog) made for some memorable moments that shall never be forgotten.  Then there is another couple that was a chance encounter, all because of our boat names, Big Run and Short Walk.  Ann and Joe on S/V Short walk are another stand out couple we met in Florida and saw again in the Bahamas and Portsmith, VA.  The list goes on and on.  Take for example Ken and Cindy on S/V Meant To Be who invited us, two strangers, for Sundowners at our favorite beach in the Bahamas, Little Bay.  And who can forget our friends from Long Cove Marina, Rebecca and Trina on M/V Kismet.  The list goes on and on.  I hope no one feels left out, I was trying to show the broad diversity of the people we meet on the water and land.   

      If the past is an indication of what the future holds, I would say that Sharon and I are in for the ride of a lifetime.  We hope that in another year or two we still hold the enthusiasm we have today on our first anniversary.

Property Tax

     My sister Barb always says "no news is good news", that applies to Big Run.  We have been in Wrightsville Beach since last Wednesday and there is not much to report.  We came to Wrightsville Beach because we needed repair parts for the watermaker shipped in to us at the Wrightsville Beach Post Office, which is a short 1 mile walk from our anchorage.  After contacting every Spectra Watermaker dealer on the east coast for parts, we found a very well stocked dealer in Florida, Murray Marine.  On Friday, the replacement high pressure switch for the feed pump arrived and was installed by 2 o'clock in the afternoon.  But that did not solve all the problems as we soon discovered that there is a problem with the watermaker membrane and the quality of the water it produces, the parts per million (PPM) count is too high and the water is not potable.  Our new watermaker contact is now shipping us cleaning solutions to use on the membrane.  The cleaners should arrive on Tuesday by UPS to the local post office.   Hopefully the cleaning solutions will lower the PPM to a potable level and we can start living a normal life again - daily showers.  In the meantime, here we are anchored in Wrightsville Beach for the 6th day, they may soon charge us a property tax.

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?

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!

JELLO

     I am sure by now that everyone has come to the same conclusion; especially those who have a working knowledge of geography, that we are headed for our nation's capital.  Our slow boat has been weaving in and out of ever side creek on the Maryland shore of the Potomac River from the Chesapeake Bay to our current location on Mattawoman Creek.  We have slip reservations at the Gangplank Marina in Washington, DC for August 1st.  Departing from our normal anchor out lifestyle, we may be tied to a dock for up to 7 days.  Once we are in the marina, our first priority is engine room maintenance.  Then we are off to the grocery store once again to reprovision the boat.  The rest of our time on land will be spent playing the role of tourist.  Sure hope Mother Nature cooperates and turns down the burners from high heat!  For our adventures on land, we plan to use Rick's (M/V Broulee) approach to plans and anything organized - "JELLO"! 

Cool And Comfortable

  Point No Point Lighthouse on the Chesapeake Bay

   It wasn't barnacles growing on the anchor rode, but there was some kind of grass or something growing on the chain.  It had been 11 days since we dropped anchor, and today was the day to move on.  Our plan was to go to the Patuxent  (Pat) River and anchor overnight at Mill Creek  We did have a contingency plan if we made good time getting to the Pat River, we would push on to the Potomac River.  We arrived at the Pat River and decided to make the run to the Potomac and anchor in Smith Creek.  We had anchored in Smith Creek back in October 2010 while we waited out a blow.  The last time we were here, we had anchored on the west side.  However, there was a great private and secluded hole on the east side of the creek.  The east anchorage had enough room for one boat.  We had very slowly sounded our way in watching the depth sounder register 7 feet.  Big Run needs 4.5 feet.  Sharon gets very attentive when the sounder registers 6 feet.  We had 7 feet all the way in, and that was 2 hours after low tide.   As I said, this anchorage had enough room for 1 boat.  The north and south shore were about 250 feet away.  The cove continued to the east for about 500 feet, and to the west was the entrance.  The center was 7 feet, which quickly got skinny to the north and south, and at about  250 feet to the east the 7 foot depth was lost to 2 feet of depth.  So, here we are nicely tucked in our private cove.   We have gone from a 1 mile by 2 mile wide anchorage on the Little Choptank River to a 10 acre hurricane hole. Yes, hurricane hole, there was absolutely no air (breeze) to be had to cool off the boat.  This is a beautiful private cove that would be a great hidey hole from a hurricane, but not on a hot summer night.  So tomorrow it's back to the wide open, not so private, wind blown anchorages that we find cool and comfortable.  

  View of sunset from our not so cool and comfortable anchorage!

    

Wind Blown Anchorages

     Happy 4th of July to all of our families and friends.  We have been "stuck" here on the Little Choptank River for 10 days.  When Sharon and I find an anchorage we like, we tend to overstay our welcome.  Well, nobody is kicking us out, but when we pull the anchor I am sure the barnacles will have taken up residence on our anchor and chain.  Speaking of anchors, it happened again just the other night.  Another boat dragged its anchor.  Sharon and I had been monitoring the weather with internet radar and while being on watch in the pilothouse.  On one of my trips up to the pilothouse to check on the approaching storm, I noticed the only other boat in our anchorage was moving.  I made a comment to Sharon, and she agreed that she thought the other boat was moving.  We watched the boat for a while and decided that it was dragging its hook, and the souls onboard were down below sound asleep.  After watching the boat for what seemed a long time, I decided to sound the danger signal with our ship's horn, 5 blasts of the horn.  We waited a minute but did not see any movement on deck.  Again I sounded the horn 5 times with each blast longer in duration than my first alarm. We doubt they heard the alarm because they were to our stern and our horns project the sound to our bow.  Once again we failed to see any movement on deck.  Next, I tried our roof mounted spotlight thinking they would be alarmed by the light shining on and in the boat.  By the time I got the light trained on the boat we noticed movement on the pulpit and I immediately turned off the spotlight.  Finally, the couple were on deck trying to regain control of their boat before they ran aground.  They saved the boat, pulled up anchor and motored to another anchorage in the dark.  I estimated that they dragged the hook for over 2,000 feet before we saw them on deck.  We like wide open anchorages, and this one is bigger than Comegys Bight on the Chester River.  I guess I now know why anyone seldom anchors with us in these spacious, wind blown anchorages.

A Good Night's Sleep

      beep.....beep.....beep.....beep.....beep.... what was that, I didn't set an alarm clock.  I look at the clock.  It's 5:15 a.m.  I lay in bed for another 15 seconds before I decide to get up and investigate.  As I enter the pilothouse I immediately see why there was an alarm this morning.  The raft-up of four sailboats off of our starboard bow has dragged their anchor.   Well, only one boat dragged their anchor, the other three that were tied to that boat came along for the ride.  Now this floating mass  is 150 feet away, and all hands are on deck scurring about like it's a fire drill.  Engines are firing up, lines are being cast off.  Everybody (sailboats) is abandoning the anchor boat so that they don't go aground on the nearby shoreline.  While all the other sailboats make a clean getaway and anchor elsewhere in the cove, the anchor boat of the raft-up stays where he's at. Why not?  The anchor is already out.  But wait.....beep.....beep.....beep.....beep.....beep....there goes the anchor alarm again.  The same boat is dragging the anchor again.  The sailboat's first mate emerges from down below to look around, but where is the captain?  Finally, after what seemed like 5 minutes the "captain" shows his face at the helm, looks around and disappears below again, with the first mate in tow.  As I sit in the pilothouse of our boat prepared to take evasive action, the first mate appears a few minutes later and checks the chartplotter.  Did the alarm sound again? I don't know.  What I do know is that the "captain" of this sailboat (Andiamo of Annapolis, MD) never checked the integrity of the anchor set after having dragged twice.  Never did he start his engines and put the transmission in reverse and pull on his ground tackle to verify the hook was set.  And you call yourself a "captain"! (Note - Andiamo is Italian for "Let's Go" - how appropriate)

     I have always wondered why boats with minimal tackle for the size of the boat believe that they can attach another 2, 3, 4, or more boats in a raft up situation and expect their tackle to hold when the winds kick up.  This is especially true of some  sailboats.  They try to keep their weight to a minimum, especially on the bow while sacrificing one of the most important pieces of equipment on a boat - the anchor and rode.  Power boats are guilty of undersized anchors too, but we don't know what their excuse is for such a small anchors, maybe it's just plain ignorance. The anchor on Big Run is a 66lb. Bruce anchor with 1/2" chain.  I did not set up this arrangement, but I am sure glad we have ground tackle for a 50-60 foot boat on a 42 foot boat.  Next time someone wants to raft up with you, ask yourself  "Do I have the right anchor and rode for a raft up should the winds pick up?"  After all, we all want a good night's sleep.

Update - it's now 6:50 a.m. and the anchor alarm has sounded again - hey Captain, do the right thing!