We began this fall's adventure yesterday under beautiful blue skies, balmy temperatures and a light southerly breeze. We even had good weather on Wednesday when the mast was stepped. We motored to the shipyard in thick fog, but that was preferable to the strong winds arriving later in the day, and the mast was down and on the deck before 0900, giving us the rest of the day to get the boat cleaned up and the mast lashed firmly in place. The weather forecast was for cool nights and warm sunny days to continue for a few more days, but included rain and snow showers by week's end after the arrival of another cold front.
Burlington
Boats hauled for the winter at Shelburne Shipyard
It was about noon before we had things pulled together so Melaina and Mike could drop us off at LCYC and cast off our lines. After a quick stop at Shelburne Shipyard to top off our fuel tank we were finally underway by early afternoon. This was the first decent weekend for some time, so there were a lot of boats out enjoying the long holiday weekend.
A Kayak passing Split Rock Point
Morning Mist at Sunrise
Since we've had a fair amount of wind and rain in the past few weeks, a number of the leaves are already off the trees, making the colors a bit less vibrant than in the past. It hasn't helped that a number of tree species are having problems which have caused the leaves to turn brown instead of the usual variety of colors. Apparently the trees are more stressed with the warmer than usual weather of the past few years, making them susceptible to disease, which allows some pests to winter over when in the past they would have succumbed to the subfreezing temperatures.
We had the same Lock master for the last 3 locks today. He had to lock up everything at the lock we'd just left, drive to the next one and get it ready for us. There was no problem between the first 2 since they were 9 statue miles apart and it took a good hour to travel between them. But the last lock was only 2 miles downstream, and despite of motoring more slowly since he warned us we might have to wait, we arrived before he'd had a chance to change the water level. He said things have slowed down in the canal the last week or so, and one of the Lock masters had taken time off for vacation. He also warned us to make a hard turn to starboard after exiting Lock 7 so we'd get in the right channel to take us to Fort Edward. The Hudson River has 2 branches here, and a 90 degree turn would have had us in the wrong channel.
At the Fort Edward Dock
Sent Oct. 13th from off the New Jersey coast
We've
been busy with some long days since we left Fort Edward Tuesday
morning. As we approached the Troy Federal Lock, the last one
before
reaching sea level, Leonard went searching for the Lower Hudson River
Chart.
It was no where to be found on board, so we were once again without the
chart we needed, a phenomena that has plagued our trips since we
started
in 1978. I tried calling to the various marinas on the way, and
had no
luck (many didn't answer the phone). We were going to stop at the
Waterford town dock at the Welcome Center at the Erie Canal, but the
docks were full and the only spot available looked short when we took
the added length of our mast on deck into consideration. I'd hate
to
cause a puncture wound in some one else's prized possession, so we
headed on south.
Hudson River Reflections
The town dock at Troy was virtually empty, so we tied up on the off chance a chart might be available. We could easily run this section without the chart but we knew we wouldn't have enough daylight to reach Catskill, and a chart would be very comforting when trying to find a place to anchor. It looked like to dock master had charts in his office, and the other boat on the dock told us he was due to arrive shortly, so we waited.
The other boat was a little C-Dory, a small motor boat about 24 feet long with 3 men on board who are doing the "Great Loop". They were on the way to Lake Champlain to store the boat for the winter before continuing on the last leg - up to Montreal and up the St. Lawrence to complete their loop which has been done in segments over 3 years. We chatted with them about the lake and Point Bay Marina where they plan to store the boat. It looked like the boat would be a bit crowded with that large of a crew, and I watched them head ashore with duffle bags in hand.
When the dock master arrived, he didn't have the chart, but lent Leonard his truck with directions to West Marine and even called to see if they had the chart in the store. He was slightly crushed when Leonard said we didn't plan on spending the night, but did take $5 for the "rental". The power boat took on fuel, but only about 12 gallons, so he was busy grousing about the lack of income for the day. He was quite the character. He owns a fitness center in Troy and only does the dock master bit part time.
It turned out he also had a Point Bay connection as Al Martin, the owner, and his wife had spent the week of the flood last summer tied up to the town dock. He had taken them to his fitness center and also to his home. When he took a closer look at our boat he realized he'd seen us go past his dock on our way to the Troy Lock. He'd been out trying to find the anchor to one end of his dock which someone had untied. No wonder I couldn't reach him by phone. I offered him one of our Lindt bars, but he said he's getting too fat since he started doing the dock master thing and not working out as much. He'd take one next time we stop.
Dump truck on top of a salt pile in Albany
When Leonard returned with chart in hand we continued on our way south
with hopes of reaching Castleton on Hudson before dark. We
stopped just
a bit north at a special anchorage area off a state park with just
enough light to get anchored.
We planned an early start the next day to reach Catskill early enough in the day to get the mast stepped and everything back in working order. When we arrived at Riverview Marina they were working on stepping the mast on a boat out of Boston. We set about unlashing the mast and cradle parts in hopes of sliding in as soon as that boat was done. Glancing up from our work it became evident that the crew could use a few extra hands.
They were trying to get the mast to lock into place on the keel, but the mast collar, a collar that fills the gap at the deck, was tight and the mast wouldn't slide through the hole. They were trying to reposition the boat to see if that would help (they'd had the mast up and down in the hole several times). The wife, who was smaller than I am, was at the bow trying to control 2 roller furling units (it was a cutter rig) while one of the yard guys was below trying to force the mast into place while another was jumping on the boom attachment to help force the mast down. The Captain was standing on the dock trying to hold the boat, so we got into the act too. It turned out the owner had used spar tight, a fastener, to seal the collar and had neglected to mention it beforehand. The "hole" wasn't quite as large as the "peg". To everyone's relief, the mast finally popped into place after being liberally doused with soap and Susan, the wife of the marina owner, stepped on deck to help hold the roller furling units. By then, we were consigned to the "after lunch" slot.
Our mast went like clockwork. We've stopped here so many times that Mike joked about giving us stepping points toward a freebie. We're just glad to have a friendly place with a good crew to stop at on our way up and down the river. John, who ran the crane this time, was glad for an easy time too since he was the one who had been working on the deck to get the other mast in place.
With rain in the forecast, we hustled to get the sails on and the solar panel back up by dark. And just in time for the rain to start. It doesn't sound like a lot of work, but there are a lot of lines to be fed through various stoppers and attached to the right places, sails to be fed into tracks, battens to be put back into the main sail, jack lines for the sail cover to be threaded, and the structure for the solar panel reconstructed and attached to the bimini. We were tired and looking forward to dinner at the Fire House Restaurant in town, Leonard to his Philly cheese steak and me hoping it might be Margarita night again. Much to our dismay, after our walk in the rain, it was closed for a private party. Rather than go back and make dinner, we went to the pizza place where they make monster sized calzones and subs as well as pizza.
Our trip this fall had a sense of urgency since Leonard's Mother had been hospitalized with a serious infection after we left home. We hoped to get the boat as far as the Chesapeake in case we needed to return to Minnesota. It would be easier to find a place to store the boat and to get flights from there. With this in mind, we departed Catskill bright and early and pushed hard yesterday, reaching Nyack after dark. It was nice to re-enter last years coordinates into the gps and find our spot between Peterson's Boat Yard and the yacht club moorings. The long awaited NW winds finally made their arrival as we ate a late dinner. We'd been hoping for their help all day long. We did manage to harness some wind on the broader reaches of the Hudson south of Newburgh before struggling with the opposing current in the narrow turn at West Point.
Psychedelic Tug
New Jersey Building Reflections and Colgate Clock
Brooklyn Bridge up the East River
This morning was another early start to catch the current downstream. The winds still weren't all that helpful, but every half knot helps. It was a bit like going through molasses by the time we reached the Narrows at Verrazano. With light winds from whatever direction they choose to forecast (the forecasts don't seem to quite line up with each other, much less with what we actually have), and an improvement in Mom's condition, we decided to head down to Cape May. It will be a cold night offshore as there are freeze warnings out for most of New Jersey for the next few nights. Note: The missing Hudson River chart was found this morning inside the New Jersey Chart book.
Sent Oct. 16th from the approach to Baltimore, MD
Hudson River Reflections
The town dock at Troy was virtually empty, so we tied up on the off chance a chart might be available. We could easily run this section without the chart but we knew we wouldn't have enough daylight to reach Catskill, and a chart would be very comforting when trying to find a place to anchor. It looked like to dock master had charts in his office, and the other boat on the dock told us he was due to arrive shortly, so we waited.
The other boat was a little C-Dory, a small motor boat about 24 feet long with 3 men on board who are doing the "Great Loop". They were on the way to Lake Champlain to store the boat for the winter before continuing on the last leg - up to Montreal and up the St. Lawrence to complete their loop which has been done in segments over 3 years. We chatted with them about the lake and Point Bay Marina where they plan to store the boat. It looked like the boat would be a bit crowded with that large of a crew, and I watched them head ashore with duffle bags in hand.
When the dock master arrived, he didn't have the chart, but lent Leonard his truck with directions to West Marine and even called to see if they had the chart in the store. He was slightly crushed when Leonard said we didn't plan on spending the night, but did take $5 for the "rental". The power boat took on fuel, but only about 12 gallons, so he was busy grousing about the lack of income for the day. He was quite the character. He owns a fitness center in Troy and only does the dock master bit part time.
It turned out he also had a Point Bay connection as Al Martin, the owner, and his wife had spent the week of the flood last summer tied up to the town dock. He had taken them to his fitness center and also to his home. When he took a closer look at our boat he realized he'd seen us go past his dock on our way to the Troy Lock. He'd been out trying to find the anchor to one end of his dock which someone had untied. No wonder I couldn't reach him by phone. I offered him one of our Lindt bars, but he said he's getting too fat since he started doing the dock master thing and not working out as much. He'd take one next time we stop.
Dump truck on top of a salt pile in Albany
We planned an early start the next day to reach Catskill early enough in the day to get the mast stepped and everything back in working order. When we arrived at Riverview Marina they were working on stepping the mast on a boat out of Boston. We set about unlashing the mast and cradle parts in hopes of sliding in as soon as that boat was done. Glancing up from our work it became evident that the crew could use a few extra hands.
They were trying to get the mast to lock into place on the keel, but the mast collar, a collar that fills the gap at the deck, was tight and the mast wouldn't slide through the hole. They were trying to reposition the boat to see if that would help (they'd had the mast up and down in the hole several times). The wife, who was smaller than I am, was at the bow trying to control 2 roller furling units (it was a cutter rig) while one of the yard guys was below trying to force the mast into place while another was jumping on the boom attachment to help force the mast down. The Captain was standing on the dock trying to hold the boat, so we got into the act too. It turned out the owner had used spar tight, a fastener, to seal the collar and had neglected to mention it beforehand. The "hole" wasn't quite as large as the "peg". To everyone's relief, the mast finally popped into place after being liberally doused with soap and Susan, the wife of the marina owner, stepped on deck to help hold the roller furling units. By then, we were consigned to the "after lunch" slot.
Our mast went like clockwork. We've stopped here so many times that Mike joked about giving us stepping points toward a freebie. We're just glad to have a friendly place with a good crew to stop at on our way up and down the river. John, who ran the crane this time, was glad for an easy time too since he was the one who had been working on the deck to get the other mast in place.
With rain in the forecast, we hustled to get the sails on and the solar panel back up by dark. And just in time for the rain to start. It doesn't sound like a lot of work, but there are a lot of lines to be fed through various stoppers and attached to the right places, sails to be fed into tracks, battens to be put back into the main sail, jack lines for the sail cover to be threaded, and the structure for the solar panel reconstructed and attached to the bimini. We were tired and looking forward to dinner at the Fire House Restaurant in town, Leonard to his Philly cheese steak and me hoping it might be Margarita night again. Much to our dismay, after our walk in the rain, it was closed for a private party. Rather than go back and make dinner, we went to the pizza place where they make monster sized calzones and subs as well as pizza.
Our trip this fall had a sense of urgency since Leonard's Mother had been hospitalized with a serious infection after we left home. We hoped to get the boat as far as the Chesapeake in case we needed to return to Minnesota. It would be easier to find a place to store the boat and to get flights from there. With this in mind, we departed Catskill bright and early and pushed hard yesterday, reaching Nyack after dark. It was nice to re-enter last years coordinates into the gps and find our spot between Peterson's Boat Yard and the yacht club moorings. The long awaited NW winds finally made their arrival as we ate a late dinner. We'd been hoping for their help all day long. We did manage to harness some wind on the broader reaches of the Hudson south of Newburgh before struggling with the opposing current in the narrow turn at West Point.
Psychedelic Tug
New Jersey Building Reflections and Colgate Clock
Brooklyn Bridge up the East River
This morning was another early start to catch the current downstream. The winds still weren't all that helpful, but every half knot helps. It was a bit like going through molasses by the time we reached the Narrows at Verrazano. With light winds from whatever direction they choose to forecast (the forecasts don't seem to quite line up with each other, much less with what we actually have), and an improvement in Mom's condition, we decided to head down to Cape May. It will be a cold night offshore as there are freeze warnings out for most of New Jersey for the next few nights. Note: The missing Hudson River chart was found this morning inside the New Jersey Chart book.
Sent Oct. 16th from the approach to Baltimore, MD
Sometimes
I wonder why we even bother with weather forecasts other than out of
habit. It is amazing to listen to a fairly detailed forecast for
a week out when they obviously haven't looked out the window or taken
into consideration the local hourly readings they just announced.
I have to admit that the notion of S winds seemed remote given the
passage of a fairly vigorous cold front the night before.
We headed south under sail with another sail boat ahead of us and out in the Ambrose (big ship) Channel. We've learned to skirt the shoals off Sandy Hook which tends to save time and keep us out of the way of the incoming and exiting big ship traffic from the harbor. We slid ahead of them as they turned south and the thought of company was nice since it gives us something to watch and track on the radar during the wee hours of the morning.
By mid afternoon the breeze we'd been enjoying died, only to come up from the south, right on the nose. Time to bag the sails and get the engine fired up if we wanted to reach Cape May by morning. The wind gradually grew and the seas got lumpy slowing our progress whenever we buried the bow in one of the bigger waves which tend to almost stop us in our tracks. Not our preferred way of traveling by any means. Another sail boat came into view, tacking back and forth with the wind. While we were slowed down to 3 knots or less at times over the ground, he was not gaining much if any southerly ground.
Just about sunset the other boat that had been motoring south with us pulled in a Manasquan Inlet, perhaps deciding to see if the weather would improve the next day. We've never ventured in there, the 6 foot channel depth from the ocean and what appears to be a lack of viable anchorages has never appeared to be a better choice than staying out at sea to us. We did hear them calling on the radio looking for a place to tie up for the night as we continued on our way.
We hoped the forecast for dying winds was more accurate than the direction or speed we'd been experiencing for most of the afternoon. The winds did moderate some and bend more to the west. When I came on watch before 0100 Leonard told me if I set the jib, I'd have to take it in myself. It can be a chore when the wind starts to blow, but the thought of making up some of the time we'd lost won out and I rolled out some and gained about a knot of speed for most of my watch.
When Leonard appeared at 0500 we set the main as well and were able to shut the engine down. This made my down time more restful since I didn't have the diesel thrumming away in my ear in the aft cabin. We approached Cape May by mid morning and realized it was too late in the day to start up the Delaware River to reach any of the anchorages.
We wanted to take on fuel and while at the marina, Leonard decided life would be easier if we just paid for dockage rather than pump up the dinghy, hook up the outboard and tried to find a place to land the dinghy on shore. The marina is on the top end of what we like to pay per foot, but the goodie bag included with the dockage contained a regular sized bottle of a local NJ wine, a bag of biscotti from a local patisserie, a sample of a hand made soap and the electric was included in the price. They also toss in phone and cable, but that doesn't really apply to us. It also gave us a chance to rinse off the layer of salt we'd accumulated off shore, take a long hot shower, do the laundry, and take a walk.
We just finished cleaning up the boat and were ready to walk into town when Leonard noticed another Sabre coming into the adjacent slip. Sure enough, it was a blue hulled 362, identical to us. More amazing, it was the Griswolds and our sister ship, Ephinany, from Lake Champlain. We'd admired their boat whenever we saw her before we got Antares. Back in 2003 we'd introduced ourselves to them when we were tied up behind them at the Shipyard after having had out mast stepped.
The Griswolds decided they'd depart with us in the morning, so along with matching vessels we had captains disconnecting electric cables and dock lines in unison in the morning. With the tide low we easily slid under the 55 foot bridges and spent the day sailing up the Delaware Bay together in shifty and stronger than forecast winds. Unfortunately the timing was off on the current, and it wasn't until late in the day that we got a boost.
White throated sparrow
It was a good sail although with the gusty, shifty winds we needed to hand steer rather than use the autopilot which doesn't react quickly enough to the changes in wind force and direction. As I handed Leonard out his sandwich I heard him say "hello bird". We'd acquired a white throated sparrow who welcomed the chance to stop flying and share a meal with us. He ate bread crumbs and was delighted when I gave him a mix of shelled sunflower and pumpkin seeds. He made a couple of forays into the cabin, leaving a small deposit on the cabin sole before resting on one of the old towels in the aft cabin. He was quite brave - hopped up my leg to check me out and sat on Leonard's shoe. A couple of times he got startled when Leonard used the power winch or we heeled in a gust and flew off, only to return for more food and rest. He finally left us when a tanker ship went past causing us to roll. It looked like he jumped ship for a more stable ride, and one going in the right direction since we were headed north.
Enough other boats had passed us during the day that rather than press on to Chesapeake City and possibly find the anchorage full, we stopped behind the dike at Reedy Island just south of the C&D Canal. When we told the Griswolds our intent they were ready to call it a day too and followed us in through the cut in the dike. They liked the anchorage - only one other boat joined us for the night - and said they'd not have tried it on their own and were glad to know where it was. We had an early dinner and were in bed before 2100, the long day in the wind and sun had done us in.
With news that Leonard's Mother has stopped responding to treatment we made another early start in hopes of reaching Baltimore tonight so we can head to Minnesota. We're glad we stopped there last year as we know the marina is nice, convenient, secure and reasonably priced. Our early start gave us a boost through the canal that should carry us most of the way to the Patapsco River before the current will turn against us. We have a slip reserved until we can return. At this point we plan on renting a car which will give us more lee way regarding schedules than plane tickets.
Sent Oct. 30th from the Rhode River south of Annapolis, MD
We headed south under sail with another sail boat ahead of us and out in the Ambrose (big ship) Channel. We've learned to skirt the shoals off Sandy Hook which tends to save time and keep us out of the way of the incoming and exiting big ship traffic from the harbor. We slid ahead of them as they turned south and the thought of company was nice since it gives us something to watch and track on the radar during the wee hours of the morning.
By mid afternoon the breeze we'd been enjoying died, only to come up from the south, right on the nose. Time to bag the sails and get the engine fired up if we wanted to reach Cape May by morning. The wind gradually grew and the seas got lumpy slowing our progress whenever we buried the bow in one of the bigger waves which tend to almost stop us in our tracks. Not our preferred way of traveling by any means. Another sail boat came into view, tacking back and forth with the wind. While we were slowed down to 3 knots or less at times over the ground, he was not gaining much if any southerly ground.
Just about sunset the other boat that had been motoring south with us pulled in a Manasquan Inlet, perhaps deciding to see if the weather would improve the next day. We've never ventured in there, the 6 foot channel depth from the ocean and what appears to be a lack of viable anchorages has never appeared to be a better choice than staying out at sea to us. We did hear them calling on the radio looking for a place to tie up for the night as we continued on our way.
We hoped the forecast for dying winds was more accurate than the direction or speed we'd been experiencing for most of the afternoon. The winds did moderate some and bend more to the west. When I came on watch before 0100 Leonard told me if I set the jib, I'd have to take it in myself. It can be a chore when the wind starts to blow, but the thought of making up some of the time we'd lost won out and I rolled out some and gained about a knot of speed for most of my watch.
When Leonard appeared at 0500 we set the main as well and were able to shut the engine down. This made my down time more restful since I didn't have the diesel thrumming away in my ear in the aft cabin. We approached Cape May by mid morning and realized it was too late in the day to start up the Delaware River to reach any of the anchorages.
We wanted to take on fuel and while at the marina, Leonard decided life would be easier if we just paid for dockage rather than pump up the dinghy, hook up the outboard and tried to find a place to land the dinghy on shore. The marina is on the top end of what we like to pay per foot, but the goodie bag included with the dockage contained a regular sized bottle of a local NJ wine, a bag of biscotti from a local patisserie, a sample of a hand made soap and the electric was included in the price. They also toss in phone and cable, but that doesn't really apply to us. It also gave us a chance to rinse off the layer of salt we'd accumulated off shore, take a long hot shower, do the laundry, and take a walk.
We just finished cleaning up the boat and were ready to walk into town when Leonard noticed another Sabre coming into the adjacent slip. Sure enough, it was a blue hulled 362, identical to us. More amazing, it was the Griswolds and our sister ship, Ephinany, from Lake Champlain. We'd admired their boat whenever we saw her before we got Antares. Back in 2003 we'd introduced ourselves to them when we were tied up behind them at the Shipyard after having had out mast stepped.
This is their first trip off the lake
and they'd had a harder trip down the Jersey shore than we had.
They got caught in NE (not forecast) winds, tucked in at Manasquan for
a few days, and then again at Atlantic City. They were interested
in our experiences so we agreed to get together in the evening to share
experiences. They also brought along a single hander they'd met
at Atlantic City who is from Cape Cod and fairly new at sailing.
We had a pleasant evening aboard Antares sharing wine and Champlain
chocolates.
Ephinany, a Sabre 362 like ours
Ephinany, a Sabre 362 like ours
The Griswolds decided they'd depart with us in the morning, so along with matching vessels we had captains disconnecting electric cables and dock lines in unison in the morning. With the tide low we easily slid under the 55 foot bridges and spent the day sailing up the Delaware Bay together in shifty and stronger than forecast winds. Unfortunately the timing was off on the current, and it wasn't until late in the day that we got a boost.
White throated sparrow
It was a good sail although with the gusty, shifty winds we needed to hand steer rather than use the autopilot which doesn't react quickly enough to the changes in wind force and direction. As I handed Leonard out his sandwich I heard him say "hello bird". We'd acquired a white throated sparrow who welcomed the chance to stop flying and share a meal with us. He ate bread crumbs and was delighted when I gave him a mix of shelled sunflower and pumpkin seeds. He made a couple of forays into the cabin, leaving a small deposit on the cabin sole before resting on one of the old towels in the aft cabin. He was quite brave - hopped up my leg to check me out and sat on Leonard's shoe. A couple of times he got startled when Leonard used the power winch or we heeled in a gust and flew off, only to return for more food and rest. He finally left us when a tanker ship went past causing us to roll. It looked like he jumped ship for a more stable ride, and one going in the right direction since we were headed north.
Enough other boats had passed us during the day that rather than press on to Chesapeake City and possibly find the anchorage full, we stopped behind the dike at Reedy Island just south of the C&D Canal. When we told the Griswolds our intent they were ready to call it a day too and followed us in through the cut in the dike. They liked the anchorage - only one other boat joined us for the night - and said they'd not have tried it on their own and were glad to know where it was. We had an early dinner and were in bed before 2100, the long day in the wind and sun had done us in.
With news that Leonard's Mother has stopped responding to treatment we made another early start in hopes of reaching Baltimore tonight so we can head to Minnesota. We're glad we stopped there last year as we know the marina is nice, convenient, secure and reasonably priced. Our early start gave us a boost through the canal that should carry us most of the way to the Patapsco River before the current will turn against us. We have a slip reserved until we can return. At this point we plan on renting a car which will give us more lee way regarding schedules than plane tickets.
Sent Oct. 30th from the Rhode River south of Annapolis, MD
We
returned to Antares from our trip to the mid-west Sunday afternoon. We
were glad to find the wind which blew us back east hadn't disrupted the
power in Baltimore. We'd heard reports on the news of power
outages up and down the east coast due to the storm. So we were
glad to find everything ship shape when we got back on board.
Antares was still parked right in the middle of the slip - the Anchorage Marina is the only place we've stayed where each slip has a finger dock on both sides. We were glad to have spent a few days there last fall so we were familiar with the location and amenities. Given the length of our absence it was great not to worry about the boat. My only regret was not to have been able to spend some of that time exploring Baltimore instead of being strapped in a car for 3000 miles. We're glad to report Leonard's Mom is recovering.
This morning, after returning the rental car, we finished picking up the last of our provisions on the hike back to the boat and began our trip south by mid-morning. It was a beautiful sunny day with warm temperatures - it sounds like it's been cold here for the last 2 weeks. The strong WNW winds of yesterday were gone, moderating and turning to the SW, almost dead on our nose once we reached the Bay. Much as we hate to waste a nice breeze, since it's the end of October we gritted our teeth and motored south most of the day for an anchorage on the western shore. Once we cleared Thomas Light, just south of Annapolis, we were able to fall off and unroll the jib for a bit of a sail to the Rhode River where we anchored between High Island and the southern shore.
High Island in the Rhode River
High Island is a bit of a misnomer - it looks like a shoal just barely out of the water. The guide book indicates the Smithsonian owns much of the shore to the south of us which is used for environmental research. There are various underwater research buoys too, and it is a popular anchorage with several other boats anchored here. In the morning we'll continue on our way south, with plans to reach Solomon's Island. The forecast is for a few more nice days with southerly winds of moderate speeds, so it looks like we'll spend more time motoring than sailing.
Sent Nov. 5th from Ocracoke, NC
Paige aboard Golden puts me to shame. Try as I might, I don't find the time (or is it the energy) to get daily updates posted for the trip! For those of you who aren't aware of Golden's voyages, the Caldwells have almost completed the "Great Loop", having left Vermont in early June heading west to do the inland portion of the loop and we've enjoyed their log and web site of the trip.
On Halloween we departed the Rhode River bright and early heading for Solomon's Island. Once on the bay we were greeted with head winds and lumpy seas created by the wind blowing against the current. These conditions weren't conducive to sailing unless we wanted to sail back and forth across the bay rather than for points south. By afternoon we were able to get several hours of sailing using the jib. We prefer the sound of wind and waves to the thrum of the engine when we have the choice, and are always glad to shut the engine down when ever we can.
One of the pleasures of doing this trip a number of times is knowing where to access to life's necessities like good anchorages, provisioning stops and free anything. Solomon's has a free pump out dock that isn't obvious unless you've been told about it or used it before. We took the detour up to the dock to pump out the holding tank before going to anchor. Having just stocked up on provisions in Baltimore, we decided to anchor in Mill Creek which has a lot more room to drop the hook and a lot fewer boats where we spent a quiet night and had no Halloween trick or treaters.
Sunrise at Solomon's Mill Creek
We were underway by 0630 the next morning in hopes of reaching Deltaville before dark. The winds were in the process of switching to the SW preceding the arrival of another cold front, so the day was spent motor sailing in light winds most of the day. We joined a handful of other sail boats anchored in Jackson Creek off the Deltaville Marina.
It had been calm in the anchorage, but the forecast (once I decided we really might want to listen to it) called for the wind to blow out of the NW when the cold front arrived, bringing gusts to up to 30 - 35 MPH as it came through. After threading our way past the shoals at the entrance, we set the main and unrolled the jib anticipating a nice sail. That lasted for about 10 minutes before we decided perhaps a couple of reefs in the main were in order. Once we got the main under control, we opted to roll in some of the jib too. Shortly after that we decided life would be easier if we just dropped the main. This is what happens when we get underway before listening to the weather!
Needless to say the engine didn't get much running time as we flew down the Bay under the reefed jib. The waves, with the current against them, were easily 4 - 6 feet and at times we reached 11 knots surfing down the waves. An occasional wave hitting the stern would splash into the cockpit and I got wet when I briefly took over for Leonard. At one point later going with the current, I saw 12.4 on the GPS, but it didn't register until later that this was speed over the ground and not boat speed.
A number of other sail boats were heading south too, but we lost sight of them when we cut across the flats by Old Point Comfort, heading into Norfolk. We'd had such a fast sail that we had time to clear those pesky restricted bridges south of Norfolk before the rush hour restrictions began at 1530. We had a few delays - the Jordan Lift Bridge had just been open before we arrived, so we had to wait a bit for the bridge tender to clear the traffic. When we got to the Gilmerton Bridge there was an even longer wait since the rail road bridge was down for a train to cross and also had men working on the bridge. We arrived in time to catch the 1700 opening of the Great Bridge Lock where we locked through with another sail boat.
We hoped to tie up at the free docks at Great Bridge. There is space on either side of the bridge, but after talking to the bridge tender we were informed the space south of the bridge was full. So was the north side, but we were directed to tie up to the trees on the opposite side of the channel. We did, after tying a couple of lines together to reach the trees. The man from the house across the street walked over to welcome us. He said during storms the Coast Guard and the Army Corps of Engineers along with a lot of other boaters use the section between the lock and the bridge as a safe haven, even rafting 2 and 3 deep. The 24 hour docking limit isn't enforced and some boats had been there for a couple of days (including his 30 footer he'd tied up so he could see it from his front window). He pointed out the way to town and even offered to run an electric cord out if we needed it.
With the remaining minutes of daylight we set off to explore the area. It makes for an ideal stopping place except for the 4 lane highway that was packed with rush hour traffic and next to impossible to cross. About a half mile away there was a shopping center with a nice laundromat, a video store, a liquor store and a very nice super market. There were other shops and fast food places which wiuld cover most cruisers needs. We wandered through the grocery store and got dinner to take back to the boat. We passed a propane refilling station also very conveniently located (more on that to come).
For once we didn't have to get underway before 0700 since it wasn't all that far to Coinjock, one of the few places to stop on the next leg of the trip. We took another walk, heading for the marina just south of the bridge. One of Leonard's biking buddies stores his boat there during the winter. It was a nice ship yard - it was obvious why they used golf carts to get around since it was probably a quarter mile long and had docks on the channel and also out back. We didn't see "Andiamo", but there were a lot of boats on the docks.
We caught the 1000 bridge opening and headed south. It was a beautiful day, cool, but sunny and we had the water to ourselves. The boats leaving Norfolk either have to clear the restricted bridges before 0630, or wait until 0830. They then have to clear Great Lock on the hour and there are a couple of other bridges that open every hour and half hour. We almost got to Pungo Ferry, about 1300, when the first power boat caught us. It was the smallest of the day. By the time we reached Coinjock more than 20 power boats (I lost count), each bigger than the last, had passed us. We've heard power boaters complain about having to slow down for us "rag baggers", but they forget we have to slow down when they approach us to help facilitate passing. I calculate we lost at least 20 minutes by the time we reached to no wake zone at Coinjock. The only time we couldn't slow down was when we were under sail - we draw the line at rolling in the jib for them to pass.
Leonard talked to one of captains on the VHF inquiring about how many boats they got into the lock. He said 1 sail boat, and too many power boats to fit in at once. I was glad I'd made dockage reservations early in the day. The one marina had a couple of boats rafted up. As it was, we had to wait to take on fuel. We did beat the one sport fisher to the fuel dock when he refused to tie up briefly just past the fuel dock, preferring to circle. We had no such qualms, preferring tying up to circling, and found the hose actually reached our boat.
After washing all the salt off the boat we did laundry. Two women from one of the 48 foot Sea Rays were there also. I commented that I thought most power boats of that size had machines on board. The one woman said no, they'd opted for closet space. She was also surprised when I told her we planned on reaching Florida in December. She wanted to know why it would take us so long - they were helping deliver a friend's boat to Jupiter from New Jersey and it would probably only take them a week.
Once again we were up at first light. We also had a "first" and a big surprise. The cold front that had pushed us south had hit with a vengeance and the deck was covered with ice. The nonskid was anything but! Falling overboard was a first we didn't need so we were careful while on deck.
I was in favor of letting all the power boats get out of our way, but Leonard decreed we'd leave early. Actually almost all of the sport fishers were gone - they're usually the worst of the lot. Once we got to the Albemarle Sound we set sail and after some discussion decided to head for the Outer Banks and spend the night at Manteo. We'd get there early in the afternoon, so there'd be time to go exploring, and we'd avoid the Alligator Bridge and all the boat traffic in the Alligator/Pungo Canal the next day. A phone call secured us a place on the town dock which is inexpensive and doesn't charge for 30 amp electric. We had a nice sail only motoring the last few miles of the dredged channel.
On the dock at Manteo
Our only glitch for the day was having to switch propane tanks when I made breakfast. We have 2 - 6 pound propane tanks, so we always have a spare on hand. However, when we went to fill what we thought was an empty tank at Catskill, the man said he wasn't able to get much in the tank. He was very nice and didn't charge us. However when Leonard checked the gauge on that tank after hooking it up, it only read 80 pounds of pressure. Usually a full tank reads 110 pounds. Maybe he really didn't get any in! We checked to see if we could refill the tank at Manteo, but the place within walking distance was closed on weekends. The other place was 8 miles away, and not an option. We are hoping to find a place at Ocracoke, or that the fuel holds out for cooking until we can get them refilled. Here we are again with cold weather and propane concerns that keep us from using our onboard heater.
The sand dunes at Kitty Hawk across from Manteo
The Elizabeth II was in her slip and a historical sight across from town. It's a replica that's been made using technology of the period - 1580's when the original settlers arrived at what became the the "Lost Colony". When re-supply ships returned after several years absence, the settlers had disappeared with out a trace. She'd not been at the dock when we stopped last spring.
Elizabeth II
We checked out part of the museum, but decided not to pay to visit the
ship. I learned that the Baums after which Baum Point is named
were freed slaves that came to the colony at Manteo during the Civil
War. There was a Black colony that flourished here briefly until 1867
when the white land owner reclaimed most of the land. Since
slaves frequently took the surname of their owners, I can only assume
they aren't related to my family since my father's was the first
generation of our branch of the family that we know immigrated to the
States.
A walk along the marsh in Manteo
This morning after returning the head key, we took a brief walk before departing. It was cold again, but at least the decks were ice free. On our way out we had one of those "quick" stops. We'd been warned to swing wide at marker 10 when we came in yesterday, but apparently we went a bit too wide. Leonard was really surprised since the depth gauge had been reading 10 feet just before we touched. Must really be an abrupt channel edge. Anyway the boat backed off easily and we went on our way motoring the length of the dredged channel before raising sail once we reached the open sound.
Bodie Light marking the inlet to Manteo
We also heard an announcement on the VHF radio from the Coast Guard that the Alligator Bridge was closed until further notice. We have since learned there was an auto accident on the bridge and it was reopened once the accident was cleared. That could really throw a monkey wrench in the works for folks heading south. Most boats don't attempt the narrow channel to and from Manteo (about 20 miles), the other side of Manteo has a bridge with a 45 foot clearance which takes care of most sail boats, and the Sound would be miserable if the wind were blowing - big waves and shallow depths with no place to duck in out of the weather. It's about 60 nautical miles from Manteo to Ocracoke, much of the time out of sight of land, and not a trip we'd try in bad weather. We were greeted by dolphins, the first sighting for this trip, as we approached the Oregon Inlet and the approach to Ocracoke. They joined us briefly before getting back to their breakfast.
We'll spend a night at Ocracoke, we'd stay longer, but the winds are forecast to go S to SW by Tuesday with rain, making for a miserable trip to Beaufort, NC. That will be the next stop on our trip south.
Antares was still parked right in the middle of the slip - the Anchorage Marina is the only place we've stayed where each slip has a finger dock on both sides. We were glad to have spent a few days there last fall so we were familiar with the location and amenities. Given the length of our absence it was great not to worry about the boat. My only regret was not to have been able to spend some of that time exploring Baltimore instead of being strapped in a car for 3000 miles. We're glad to report Leonard's Mom is recovering.
This morning, after returning the rental car, we finished picking up the last of our provisions on the hike back to the boat and began our trip south by mid-morning. It was a beautiful sunny day with warm temperatures - it sounds like it's been cold here for the last 2 weeks. The strong WNW winds of yesterday were gone, moderating and turning to the SW, almost dead on our nose once we reached the Bay. Much as we hate to waste a nice breeze, since it's the end of October we gritted our teeth and motored south most of the day for an anchorage on the western shore. Once we cleared Thomas Light, just south of Annapolis, we were able to fall off and unroll the jib for a bit of a sail to the Rhode River where we anchored between High Island and the southern shore.
High Island in the Rhode River
High Island is a bit of a misnomer - it looks like a shoal just barely out of the water. The guide book indicates the Smithsonian owns much of the shore to the south of us which is used for environmental research. There are various underwater research buoys too, and it is a popular anchorage with several other boats anchored here. In the morning we'll continue on our way south, with plans to reach Solomon's Island. The forecast is for a few more nice days with southerly winds of moderate speeds, so it looks like we'll spend more time motoring than sailing.
Sent Nov. 5th from Ocracoke, NC
Paige aboard Golden puts me to shame. Try as I might, I don't find the time (or is it the energy) to get daily updates posted for the trip! For those of you who aren't aware of Golden's voyages, the Caldwells have almost completed the "Great Loop", having left Vermont in early June heading west to do the inland portion of the loop and we've enjoyed their log and web site of the trip.
On Halloween we departed the Rhode River bright and early heading for Solomon's Island. Once on the bay we were greeted with head winds and lumpy seas created by the wind blowing against the current. These conditions weren't conducive to sailing unless we wanted to sail back and forth across the bay rather than for points south. By afternoon we were able to get several hours of sailing using the jib. We prefer the sound of wind and waves to the thrum of the engine when we have the choice, and are always glad to shut the engine down when ever we can.
One of the pleasures of doing this trip a number of times is knowing where to access to life's necessities like good anchorages, provisioning stops and free anything. Solomon's has a free pump out dock that isn't obvious unless you've been told about it or used it before. We took the detour up to the dock to pump out the holding tank before going to anchor. Having just stocked up on provisions in Baltimore, we decided to anchor in Mill Creek which has a lot more room to drop the hook and a lot fewer boats where we spent a quiet night and had no Halloween trick or treaters.
Sunrise at Solomon's Mill Creek
We were underway by 0630 the next morning in hopes of reaching Deltaville before dark. The winds were in the process of switching to the SW preceding the arrival of another cold front, so the day was spent motor sailing in light winds most of the day. We joined a handful of other sail boats anchored in Jackson Creek off the Deltaville Marina.
It had been calm in the anchorage, but the forecast (once I decided we really might want to listen to it) called for the wind to blow out of the NW when the cold front arrived, bringing gusts to up to 30 - 35 MPH as it came through. After threading our way past the shoals at the entrance, we set the main and unrolled the jib anticipating a nice sail. That lasted for about 10 minutes before we decided perhaps a couple of reefs in the main were in order. Once we got the main under control, we opted to roll in some of the jib too. Shortly after that we decided life would be easier if we just dropped the main. This is what happens when we get underway before listening to the weather!
Needless to say the engine didn't get much running time as we flew down the Bay under the reefed jib. The waves, with the current against them, were easily 4 - 6 feet and at times we reached 11 knots surfing down the waves. An occasional wave hitting the stern would splash into the cockpit and I got wet when I briefly took over for Leonard. At one point later going with the current, I saw 12.4 on the GPS, but it didn't register until later that this was speed over the ground and not boat speed.
A number of other sail boats were heading south too, but we lost sight of them when we cut across the flats by Old Point Comfort, heading into Norfolk. We'd had such a fast sail that we had time to clear those pesky restricted bridges south of Norfolk before the rush hour restrictions began at 1530. We had a few delays - the Jordan Lift Bridge had just been open before we arrived, so we had to wait a bit for the bridge tender to clear the traffic. When we got to the Gilmerton Bridge there was an even longer wait since the rail road bridge was down for a train to cross and also had men working on the bridge. We arrived in time to catch the 1700 opening of the Great Bridge Lock where we locked through with another sail boat.
We hoped to tie up at the free docks at Great Bridge. There is space on either side of the bridge, but after talking to the bridge tender we were informed the space south of the bridge was full. So was the north side, but we were directed to tie up to the trees on the opposite side of the channel. We did, after tying a couple of lines together to reach the trees. The man from the house across the street walked over to welcome us. He said during storms the Coast Guard and the Army Corps of Engineers along with a lot of other boaters use the section between the lock and the bridge as a safe haven, even rafting 2 and 3 deep. The 24 hour docking limit isn't enforced and some boats had been there for a couple of days (including his 30 footer he'd tied up so he could see it from his front window). He pointed out the way to town and even offered to run an electric cord out if we needed it.
With the remaining minutes of daylight we set off to explore the area. It makes for an ideal stopping place except for the 4 lane highway that was packed with rush hour traffic and next to impossible to cross. About a half mile away there was a shopping center with a nice laundromat, a video store, a liquor store and a very nice super market. There were other shops and fast food places which wiuld cover most cruisers needs. We wandered through the grocery store and got dinner to take back to the boat. We passed a propane refilling station also very conveniently located (more on that to come).
For once we didn't have to get underway before 0700 since it wasn't all that far to Coinjock, one of the few places to stop on the next leg of the trip. We took another walk, heading for the marina just south of the bridge. One of Leonard's biking buddies stores his boat there during the winter. It was a nice ship yard - it was obvious why they used golf carts to get around since it was probably a quarter mile long and had docks on the channel and also out back. We didn't see "Andiamo", but there were a lot of boats on the docks.
We caught the 1000 bridge opening and headed south. It was a beautiful day, cool, but sunny and we had the water to ourselves. The boats leaving Norfolk either have to clear the restricted bridges before 0630, or wait until 0830. They then have to clear Great Lock on the hour and there are a couple of other bridges that open every hour and half hour. We almost got to Pungo Ferry, about 1300, when the first power boat caught us. It was the smallest of the day. By the time we reached Coinjock more than 20 power boats (I lost count), each bigger than the last, had passed us. We've heard power boaters complain about having to slow down for us "rag baggers", but they forget we have to slow down when they approach us to help facilitate passing. I calculate we lost at least 20 minutes by the time we reached to no wake zone at Coinjock. The only time we couldn't slow down was when we were under sail - we draw the line at rolling in the jib for them to pass.
Leonard talked to one of captains on the VHF inquiring about how many boats they got into the lock. He said 1 sail boat, and too many power boats to fit in at once. I was glad I'd made dockage reservations early in the day. The one marina had a couple of boats rafted up. As it was, we had to wait to take on fuel. We did beat the one sport fisher to the fuel dock when he refused to tie up briefly just past the fuel dock, preferring to circle. We had no such qualms, preferring tying up to circling, and found the hose actually reached our boat.
After washing all the salt off the boat we did laundry. Two women from one of the 48 foot Sea Rays were there also. I commented that I thought most power boats of that size had machines on board. The one woman said no, they'd opted for closet space. She was also surprised when I told her we planned on reaching Florida in December. She wanted to know why it would take us so long - they were helping deliver a friend's boat to Jupiter from New Jersey and it would probably only take them a week.
Once again we were up at first light. We also had a "first" and a big surprise. The cold front that had pushed us south had hit with a vengeance and the deck was covered with ice. The nonskid was anything but! Falling overboard was a first we didn't need so we were careful while on deck.
I was in favor of letting all the power boats get out of our way, but Leonard decreed we'd leave early. Actually almost all of the sport fishers were gone - they're usually the worst of the lot. Once we got to the Albemarle Sound we set sail and after some discussion decided to head for the Outer Banks and spend the night at Manteo. We'd get there early in the afternoon, so there'd be time to go exploring, and we'd avoid the Alligator Bridge and all the boat traffic in the Alligator/Pungo Canal the next day. A phone call secured us a place on the town dock which is inexpensive and doesn't charge for 30 amp electric. We had a nice sail only motoring the last few miles of the dredged channel.
On the dock at Manteo
Our only glitch for the day was having to switch propane tanks when I made breakfast. We have 2 - 6 pound propane tanks, so we always have a spare on hand. However, when we went to fill what we thought was an empty tank at Catskill, the man said he wasn't able to get much in the tank. He was very nice and didn't charge us. However when Leonard checked the gauge on that tank after hooking it up, it only read 80 pounds of pressure. Usually a full tank reads 110 pounds. Maybe he really didn't get any in! We checked to see if we could refill the tank at Manteo, but the place within walking distance was closed on weekends. The other place was 8 miles away, and not an option. We are hoping to find a place at Ocracoke, or that the fuel holds out for cooking until we can get them refilled. Here we are again with cold weather and propane concerns that keep us from using our onboard heater.
The sand dunes at Kitty Hawk across from Manteo
The Elizabeth II was in her slip and a historical sight across from town. It's a replica that's been made using technology of the period - 1580's when the original settlers arrived at what became the the "Lost Colony". When re-supply ships returned after several years absence, the settlers had disappeared with out a trace. She'd not been at the dock when we stopped last spring.
Elizabeth II
A walk along the marsh in Manteo
This morning after returning the head key, we took a brief walk before departing. It was cold again, but at least the decks were ice free. On our way out we had one of those "quick" stops. We'd been warned to swing wide at marker 10 when we came in yesterday, but apparently we went a bit too wide. Leonard was really surprised since the depth gauge had been reading 10 feet just before we touched. Must really be an abrupt channel edge. Anyway the boat backed off easily and we went on our way motoring the length of the dredged channel before raising sail once we reached the open sound.
Bodie Light marking the inlet to Manteo
We also heard an announcement on the VHF radio from the Coast Guard that the Alligator Bridge was closed until further notice. We have since learned there was an auto accident on the bridge and it was reopened once the accident was cleared. That could really throw a monkey wrench in the works for folks heading south. Most boats don't attempt the narrow channel to and from Manteo (about 20 miles), the other side of Manteo has a bridge with a 45 foot clearance which takes care of most sail boats, and the Sound would be miserable if the wind were blowing - big waves and shallow depths with no place to duck in out of the weather. It's about 60 nautical miles from Manteo to Ocracoke, much of the time out of sight of land, and not a trip we'd try in bad weather. We were greeted by dolphins, the first sighting for this trip, as we approached the Oregon Inlet and the approach to Ocracoke. They joined us briefly before getting back to their breakfast.
We'll spend a night at Ocracoke, we'd stay longer, but the winds are forecast to go S to SW by Tuesday with rain, making for a miserable trip to Beaufort, NC. That will be the next stop on our trip south.