I've read lots of sailing stories over the years and I've always
been puzzled when cruisers talk about leaving to go sailing with a bunch of
things not done yet. Why would someone do that? Shouldn't you have
everything all packed and all the projects finished first? Couldn't
something bad happen?
Now I think I understand. The "to do" list on a boat, it seems, is
never finished. The best you can do is keep whittling away at it and take
care of the critical issues. There will always be some little upgrade or
cosmetic issue that you'd like to get around to at some point. But the
whole idea of cruising is to go out and have some fun too. You have to
make time for that as well!
So with those thoughts going through my head, we decided to delay our
intended October 1st departure date until tomorrow. We looked at the whole
list, decided what was critical, and figured if we had them all finished today
by about noon, we could make it out of the canal and far enough into the
Chesapeake Bay to find an anchorage for the night.
We've been getting tired of the same view, the same smelly harbor water,
the long dock walk for anything, and of course the endless boat chores.
Motivated by the deadline, we popped out of bed early this morning to try to get
enough done so that the boat would be ready to sail.
No luck, it took us until late afternoon, and we consoled ourselves by
dessert and drinks in the marina restaurant and a promise to get an early start
in the morning. We haven't done anything yet, but it already seems like an
accomplishment to sell, give, move, and store everything we own, and to plan and
prepare for what lies ahead!
October 2
I was up just before sunrise, excited as a little kid to get
started. Kathleen would take a little more time to become vertical.
Emmett only took one nudge and he to was dressed and bouncing around
impatiently. He was as excited as a little kid, too. But he has a
better excuse than I.
It was a really cold morning. Time to head south! We
made cups of tea and hot oatmeal for everyone, and proceeded cautiously. I
kept having visions of ironic catastrophe running through my head all morning:
"They sold it all, moved aboard their boat, and set out to see the world...but
on the first day they hit a rock and sank". So we carefully talked through
how we'd untie the lines, how we'd leave the slip, what we'd do while
underway...and so on. For Kathleen, this was only her second time out
sailing the boat, so there was alot for her to learn quickly. Talked out,
I grabbed her arm. "One last thing", I said, "a kiss for luck!" Then
Em wanted a piece of the action. So after a big group hug and a kiss in
the cockpit, we sailed away.
Prudence paid off, and we left without a hitch. And oh! how
great it felt to do so. We steamed gallantly out of the harbor, through
crisp fall air with mist rising up from the water. The sun was already
bright, struggling to burn off the dew, and setting a sparkle to the trees and
rocks on the bank. It was early, and far from the working world...silent
but for our motor humming along. But cheering crowds lining the banks of
the C & D canal could not have had me beaming any brighter than I already was.
This is it! We were off!
A long day of motoring lay ahead. We stopped once for lunch
and anchoring practice. I took a quick swim to scrub the barnacles off the
hull transducers, but the tidal current was pushing too strong for Em to come
in. We sailed past the Aberdeen Proving Ground, which by both the Cruising
Guide Description and our own listening is a place where the Army tests new guns
and bombs. Soon we were in quieter, open waters and even had our sails up
for a while.
By evening we had reached Whitehall Bay, near Annapolis. It is a
beautiful, calm bay, surrounded by stately mansions. None of which were
willing to share their WiFi signal with us. Greedy rich bastards! Em
finally got his swim and we started up the dinghy motor for a cruise around the
bay. A perfect end to a perfect first day. May this be the first of
many! Here are photos of us just before setting off, and another of Uliad
at anchor her first night. Ain't she purdy?
October 3 OK, so maybe it wasn't such a perfect first day
after all. For just after I finished writing the above blog entry and was
reaching to shut down the computer, I saw a sudden flash of light and smoke
rising from behind the electrical panel. ** insert your favorite
expletive here**!!!!!!!!!!! That, followed by "Um, Kathy, can
you come here... we have a FIRE!!" By now I had shut down the Generator
and the power. The sparking and smoking stopped. The smoke alarm
went off. Kathleen started panicking about not knowing where the fire
extinguishers are kept. By the time she arrived with the fire
extinguisher, I was examining the back of the panel... best I could tell, there
was a short happening in the vicinity of the negative bus bar by the electric
range circuit. I found some old coax wiring nearby that it could have been
shorting to...got rid of that (damn TVs! Who needed a TV in this boat?)
Then we were ready for a maneuver that my brother the electronic engineer taught
me called the "smoke test". The smoke test basically means that after
doing your electric work, you stand back, throw the switch, and watch to see if
any thing starts smoking!!
The generator fired up again, I threw the switch to the AC panel.
Immediately came a large yellow fireball rising up from the back of the
previously identified circuit breaker. This was accompanied by the
electric buzzing sound that you may remember from an old Frankenstein movie.
Smoke test positive!
My next step was to completely remove the circuit breaker, and wrap
all the loose wires in a bunch of electrical tape. At last, the smoke test
was negative, and I finally crashed into bed around midnight.
This morning, we motored over to Annapolis and anchored right in
front of the Naval Academy. Annapolis is one of the nation's yachting
centers... a great place to break down because there are lots of boat yards,
mechanics, and in our case, boat electricians. If it had been a DC wiring
issue, I probably would have worked harder at fixing it myself, but hey, AC can
kill, so I didn't want to learn on the job. Besides, that little fireball
was pretty impressive. So as I was saying, there are lots of boat
electricans to be found here--except for the fact that the whole reason we're
here is for a big boat show, which tends to keep all of the yacht service
industry busy for the next week or two. Kathleen's social work instincts
kicked into high gear and she encouraged me to just keep calling until I got the
answer I wanted. It worked! After several "We can get to it first
thing next Wednesday-s", We are all arranged for an electrician as well as the
haul out and prop change we were planning on doing while here.
That left us the rest of the day to explore the quaint colonial
streets of downtown Annapolis. Even Emmett was getting into it.
"Wow, there's history everywhere here!" he commented after finding yet another
plaque commemorating something. Each of us found what we needed: We
sampled the local ice cream (Em), toured the local pottery studio (Kath), and
stocked up at the local wine shop (Steve). After all that we were hungry
again so we had appetizers and drinks at a nice sidewalk cafe, then hiked back
to the dinghy with me carrying my case of wine to stock the ship's wine cellar.
I think I have earned myself a glass by now.
October 4
Today was work day. Tim the electrician showed up right on
time, motoring his little skiff through the fog. He promptly diagnosed a
shorted out circuit breaker, which was duly repaired. Then we found out
that the 220 volt side of things was not working. Our generator puts out
220 volts, which powers the refrigerator, the air conditioning, and most
importantly, the battery charger. Then it sends off 110 volts to the rest.
The 110 is good, the 220 is not. So Tim suggested we get in touch with a
generator guy for that. More calls to make.
The good thing is, we have some redundancy for the critical
systems. We can run the main engine and charge the refrigerator and the
batteries from that until we get the generator issues resolved. We also
discovered that Tim has lived aboard his 38 foot sailboat "Pearl" for the last
10 years and is heading south like us. In fact he's leaving in two days.
Working right up to the last, just like me. So if the electric problems
come back, we know to be on the lookout for him!
We then motored over to a marina and had the boat lifted up out of
the water to remove our good prop. It has some corrosion on it and needs
to be sent back to the manufacturer for some refurbishing. We then popped
on a spare prop that we happen to carry and were all set. $500 poorer from
that experience, we watched the boat be dropped back down into the water.
The good folks at the marina must have felt bad for taking so much money from
us, because they let us tie off on their dock all afternoon while Kathleen
shoveled quarter after quarter into their laundry machine.
Meanwhile, I took the prop to the nearest UPS store to ship
it off. Then Em and I biked to the grocery store, loaded up on food, and
took a cab home with it all. Emmett was very excited to make cheese cake
for us all. Well, actually it was a store bought graham cracker crust, a
can of pie filling, and cheesecake flavored jello pudding. But he was so
excited, we just had to pretend to like it.
Oct 6 So when is this laid back cruising lifestyle going to
start? So far it has been a string of long days and stressful issues to
resolve. Yesterday we got up early to get Emmett's school done so we could
get to the Annapolis boat show. Yes, I know, we already have a boat.
But there are lots of vendors selling things for your boat at these shows, so we
had our list of things we need as well as a prodigous curiosity about what's
new. I picked up some new LED lights and Kathleen found an air horn.
We'd also been having some problems with our electronic chartplotter, so when I
saw a new unit in one guy's closeout rack for 70% off, I had to grab it. I
had been trying to coax our old one to work for two days without success.
The trouble was, I went back and plugged in the new unit, only to
see the same problem occuring. It keeps shutting itself off over and over.
Every 51 seconds in fact. I timed it. So I returned the new unit for
a refund and spent the rest of the night tearing the boat apart looking for
corroded connections in the wiring. Nothing. I took out my voltmeter
and saw it was getting good power. I watched it for 10 minutes looking for
any brief surges...nothing. Finally by 2am I was completely depressed that
I was going to have to call another expensive technician to come sort this out.
My brain must have been still working on this problem as I slept
because when I woke up I had an idea. If the wiring was good, it must be
the chartplotter's internal circuitry needing repair. But if a brand new
chartplotter did the same thing, then what else could it be? In the
morning it occurred to me to take out the little map memory card that I had
swapped back and forth between old and new. Bingo! Every time I put
my new updated chart card in, the thing started going haywire.
I should have been thrilled to have solved another problem. But
within hours I was sweating in the middle of a busy boat traffic channel with a
dinghy motor that conked out. When swearing and furious yanking on the
start cord didn't work, I was resigned to opening up the lid and fiddling with
the carburator. Not that I knew exactly what do to, but somehow the
tinkering seemed to work and now I'm 2 for 2 today.
We ended our day going to a gathering of the Seven Seas Cruising
Association, which is an organization of people who live and travel on their
boats just like us. Like magnets, we found the other boats with kids.
One couple had an 8 year old boy, and another had 8 year old twins. So Em
was in nirvana to finally have some kids his own age to play with.
Kathleen started talking and commissurating with the mother of the twins who was
going through the exact same experiences as us: Getting used to life on a
small boat, dealing with maintenance issues, learning to homeschool, and so on.
And it's a funny thing about adversities: sometimes just knowing someone
else totally understands what you're going through makes it all seem not so bad.
October 9
We took a couple days off from boat work to visit Washington DC.
Emmett's favorite was the 3D Imax movie at the Air & Space museum.
Kathleen took a long gander through the national gallery, and I was just happy
to follow Emmett around all day through the museums. Kathleen got us a
room at the Westin for only $100 on Priceline.com, so we also took time to enjoy
the luxury of long, hot showers and big, fluffy beds!
We got back to the boat to find it just as good as we left it.
Tomorrow we hope to finish up some repairs and get heading south!
October 11 We've been having a hard time getting
out of Annapolis. The town itself is charming, a well preserved colonial
seaport just dripping with history. It is also a major yachting center,
with all sorts of marine experts to fix all your boat problems. How
convenient!
So here's an update on our boat repairs: The day
after we got the circuit breaker repaired, the inverter stopped working.
This is a device that changes electricity from the batteries into the kind of
electricity that comes out of your typical wall outlet. Another call to
the yacht repair company and a second guy came out to the boat. Turns out
that: 1. the generator is working just fine. 2. The wiring was not
repaired correctly by the first guy. (Hence the concern over the 220 Volt
output) 3. The inverter is not working... and repairs from this company
generally take about 3 months to get back.
We decided to buy a new inverter. That was supposed to
be installed yesterday, but Fed Ex came late. Then today, the repairman
had trouble accessing the bolts attaching the inverter. So they moved us
into the marina where they had better access to the tool shed or something.
But by the time that got done, it was too late in the day to swap out the new
inverter. Annoyed by all this, I crawled down into the engine room and
with two wrenches, one vise grip, perseverance, and a good deal of muscle
flexibility I managed to reach way back into a narrow space to remove the 4
bolts to free up the old inverter. I can't wait to see how he reacts in
the morning when he arrives to find the hard part done already!
The other problem that has popped up during our "shake down"
cruise was the outboard motor. It has been running rough and I was
guessing that the carburator needed to be cleaned out. I took off the
cover and looked at all the screws and connections and adjustment screws and 5
minutes later I was on the phone arranging for more professional help. Had
we been out in the middle of nowhere, I might have given it a shot myself, but
here in Annapolis...it's just too tempting to take advantage of the experts.
So it might sound like nothing but problems, but we're
actually starting to feel good about solving one problem after another.
The only problem at this point is the time it has all taken... We wanted to
leave Annapolis several days ago, and we're under some time pressure now.
As soon as the inverter is up and running tomorrow, we're going to start making
tracks south. We really want to be to Cape Canaveral in time for the Space
Shuttle Launch on October 23rd! To do that we have some serious catching
up to do.
October 12 Morning came cold, clear, and blustery.
It feels like fall in the air. We are not well prepared for cold weather
on Uliad. But we do have a few warm sweaters, hats, and such tucked away
for times like these. We also have cabin heat that can run when the
generator or shore power is on. And, being a small boat, we can always
just turn on the oven to warm things up. So this morning I started getting
to know my new oven by baking a loaf of bread. Nothing fancy, mind you.
Just a blob of frozen bread dough thrown in a loaf pan. But Oh! how
marvelous on a crisp day to have a warm oven and the aroma of fresh baked bread
drifting through the boat!
Mike the inverter installer was impressed with my skills in
removing the bolts on the old inverter. A few hours later, he had the new
one up and running. All systems go once again! We were all excited
to get moving again. Unfortunately with 30 knot wind gusts blowing across
the bay, leaving the slip was not going to be easy. I spent a half hour
pacing the decks and worrying about how many boats we'd hit while the yard crew
mustered all their men to help back us out. But by timing it to a gap in
the gusts, everything went picture perfect. We're having a
glorious downwind sail. By morning we'll be in Norfolk. We're
rolling along at 7 knots. The sun is out, We've got fresh hot bread.
Life is good.
October 14 Our overnight crossing went smoothly.
We had to talk by radio with a few huge ships to make nobody runs us down.
You can never appreciate just how small you are in comparison until you pass one
closely at night. They travel at about 25 knots, which is not fast, maybe
about the speed you might drive down a city street. But its still about
triple our speed on a good day. They seem far away at first, but then
deceptively quickly, the ship just keeps getting bigger, and BIGGER until a wave
of panic hits that you might just get swallowed up by the thing. The ocean
rumbles with the deep sound of its enormous engines; aside from that, silence.
Then, relief as it passes by. A minute or two later, a big rolling wake
tosses the boat like a cork. We had one or two encounters like this,
enough to bring a very real respect for large ships. I can't imagine
anything more horrible than the feeling a sailor must have being run down by a
ship at sea. And it has happened. We have radar, radar proximity
detectors, and radios to prevent this on board. I was reminded last night
to act long before the ship appears close. And not to be afraid to call
the ship on the radio. The captain is always remarkably polite and
friendly, and glad to hear from a little sailboat to make sure we know where
each other is.
By mid morning we rolled through Norfolk marvelled at the miles and miles
of shipyards. Kathleen had been feeling a little seasick so I ended up
doing most of the driving last night. By late afternoon we had tied on to
the free public docks at Great Bridge, VA. The first item on my agenda
once we had safely tied off the lines was to climb to the top of the mast and
remove the lights and wind instruments up there. We have some low bridges
ahead where just these last few inches makes a difference!!
When I got to the top, I found our VHF antenna was missing. Not
just missing, but vaporized. There was only some black charred blobs of
metal where it used to be. It appears that we took a lightning strike!
Which could also explain the other electrical problems we've had on board.
And it certainly explains why I was having trouble talking with the ships last
night until I pulled out the hand held radio! I keep learning interesting
things about my boat.
So now I'm feeling pretty fortunate. I hear stories about every
single piece of electronics being destroyed if lightning strikes your mast.
We got off pretty lucky if we just have to replace a radio, an antenna, an
inverter, and one circuit breaker!
After coming down from the mast, Kathleen and Emmett had been
chatting with a couple on the catamaran next to us. They are also heading
south as are most of the boats in the ICW this time of year. They had two
dalmations on board which kept Emmett entertained and make Kathleen homesick for
her dog.
We walked into town from the dock, looking for supper. After
crossing the drawbridge, we could smell the hot grease of all the nearby fast
food establishments. Kathy had her heart set on a cheeseburger, but we
didn't want to settle for Wendys. So after a block or two of aimless
wandering, we came to a dollar store which lured Kathy in like a moth to a
lightbulb. Several dollars lighter and 15 minutes older we were back in
the parking lot. Kathleen had asked the clerk who suggested the "Court
house Cafe about a block away." for cheeseburgers. We found it complete
with a sign out front--and if you think I'm making this up you are welcome to
travel to the hot grease smelling street in Great Bridge, Virginia and check it
out for yourself-- which read: Proper attire required: Men must wear
shirts with sleeves, women-- no ball caps. We quickly double checked to
make sure we met the criteria and went inside. I was getting pretty
nervous about taking dining recommendations from the check out girl at a Dollar
Store. But it turns out its pretty hard to screw up a cheeseburger and a
beer. I'll have to remember that. And to wear a shirt with sleeves.
Today is a long, long drive up the intercoastal waterway. I'm
hoping to get to the Wilkerson Bridge in North Carolina. That's the one
that our mast cleared by only two inches on the way north. I have been
worrying about it ever since.
October 15 Ok, here's today's exciting episode. We
rolled out of be around 9 and got underway. Several hours later we come
across a little white and brown dog swimming to shore and trying to climb up on
a dead tree stump. "OOh, Steve, it needs help! We have to help it!"
Kathleen shrieked. It looked cold, frightened, and like it had fallen off
someone's boat. I called on the radio if any boats within earshot were
missing their dog but got no reply.
We stopped the boat and dropped in the dinghy. I was getting
ready to row over, but by now the dog had spotted us and was swimming right
over. I pulled him in and was instant hero to Emmett who immediately
wanted to dry him off and love him up. We wrapped him in a towel, which
the dog really seemed to appreciate. Em insisted on sitting by his side
and provide intensive emotional support. Now the thought did flash in my
mind that Emmett shouldn't be in the dinghy while I raised it back on board.
Or that he should have his life jacket on. But lately I keep bringing this
up and have been definitely getting the "stop being such a tight-ass" looks
whenever I do. So I let it go.
There was a phone number and a local address on the collar.
Maybe the dog lives here after all? I called on the cell phone and left a
message. Then something bad happened.
I started hoisting the dinghy up with the winch and told Emmett to
stay low and in the middle so he wouldn't tip it over as the boat came up out of
the water. Which is exactly what happened about 20 seconds later.
Emmett, the dog, and a fuel jug all got pitched into the water, then run over by
the dragging dinghy as we motored along. Can you imagine any worse sight
than your son going overboard? Now Emmett can swim, and we have done "man
overboard" drills. (My being a tight-ass again) So my first thought
was that we'd just stop the boat and have Emmett swim back over.
Emmett came up, took one look at the boat sailing away, and began
to panic with all the wild-eyed screaming of someone surely about to drown.
Oh boy. Knowing Kathleen was at the helm of Uliad, I did my best David
Hasselhoff imitation and dove in. I grabbed Emmett and pulled him over to
the floating gas can which we then held on to and watched Kathleen expertly turn
the boat around and come back over to us. Emmett's rescue only led him to
transfer his fear for his own life to that of his new dog. "Daddy, the
dog! You've got to save the dog!" I looked over to see him heading
back to shore. With new friends like us, he decided to take his chances on
his own.
After a few tense moments getting the boat maneuvered around and
shifted into neutral so nobody's foot gets chopped off by the prop, the rescue
was complete. We went below to get dry clothes, all the time reassuring
Emmett that the dog went to shore and clearly lives nearby.
A few hours later, the call from the owner came. Turns out he
did live nearby, the dog must have somehow gotten himself lost. And where
is the dog now? "Um, yeah.", I stammered. "Well, we dried him
off and warmed him up and after that he just jumped off our boat and swam to
shore at mile marker number 16. We thought he probably lived there."
The owner thanked me a half dozen times and hung up. If he only knew.
October 16 The intracoastal waterway consists of a series of
strategically placed canals which connect to natural rivers, bays, and sounds
along the east coast. The result is a 4000 mile long waterway where one
can go from Massachusetts to Texas without hardly ever having to go out on the
open ocean. This inland passage is, as you can imagine, a popular choice
for yachtsmen. This time of year, there are lots and lots of boats heading
south.
Along the way, we passed through miles and miles of uninhabited
estuaries and lowland forests, teeming with natural beauty. A couple
nights ago I ghosted down a canal in the moonlight, surrounded by swirling mist
in the cool air. Sometimes the mist got so thick, I had to use my radar to
guide me down the canal. Other times the fog would open up to see families
of raccoons washing their meals along the bank, illuminated only by my
navigation lights. Approach a town and you start seeing stately southern
mansions with broad green lawns lining the banks of the river. It is all
stunningly beautiful.
But there is a down side to cruising the ICW also. With
so many turns and so much traffic, you need to keep a sharp watch. In this
sense it is alot like driving on an interstate...not hard, but you can't step
away from the steering wheel for a few minutes to stretch your legs without
pulling over first. And pulling over a 51 foot boat to anchor is a
chore in itself that takes a while. There are also big motor yachts that
come roaring by at top speed. Even when they do slow down to pass, they
leave big wakes to shake up anything that was left sitting on the table.
Then there's barges, and dredges, and lots of other things on the water to keep
an eye out for. (Stray dogs?) And the incessant drone of the motor
rattling in your head all day.
So despite the pretty scenery, we arrived in Beaufort, NC tired,
irritable, and itching to get off the boat for a while. With a favorable
tide, we just got in before dark. After anchoring, we all slept like a
stack of logs.
Our problem is: we want to get to Florida by Oct 22 to see the
space shuttle launch. But after our delay in Annapolis, the only way to do
that is to push hard and travel long days. But by now we were realizing
that this is just the sort of lifestyle we were trying to get away from.
Where are the long lazy afternoons on the beach we were planning on? So we
took a day off in Beaufort, and poked around the shops and galleries lining main
street. I found some beach glass jewelry that I wanted to surprise
Kathleen with for her birthday, but before I could casually usher her out of the
store she had found the display also. So I ended up having her help pick
out which one she liked best. We ate a fabulous lunch at an antique
looking cafe called Clawson's. Fresh fried shrimp & oysters for me.
Em had the kids shrimp plate, and Mom the shrimp & crab salad. Fabulous!
by mid afternoon we were rested and refreshed enough to consider
our options. The offshore weather looked really good, so we decided to
jump offshore and sail all the way to Charleston in one long two day sail.
That should help us get to Florida on time. In addition, when offshore it
is much easier. Rather than steering the boat all day, I can now sit down
below and type this while glancing at the radar or out the window every 5
minutes or so. The waves are taller out here, but it is definitely less
stressful.
Emmett couldn't wait to start fishing as soon as we got into the
ocean. This morning shortly after I took over watch from Kathleen,
Emmett's trolling rod started to zing. I set the hook and ran downstairs
to get Emmett. He didn't quite have the strength to pull it in by himself,
but between the two of us, we managed to land a nice 11 pound Mahi-Mahi.
You know what we'll be having for dinner tonight! Kathleen came up just
long enough to see the fish blood spattered around the cockpit. She
started to protest and I shot her a look which said "Don't go spoiling Emmett's
first fish!" My promise to clean everything up seemed to leave her
skeptical, but she left us alone to admire our catch.
October 18 Today marks a month since I quit work. Do I miss it
yet? To be honest, I have been so busy I haven't even had time to ponder
that question yet. It is certainly challenging sometimes to adapt to a new
way of living, and I think so far I've been working just as hard as ever.
Trying to get to Florida in time to watch the space shuttle launch has created a
schedule requiring us to hurry. We've been pushing hard and sometimes it
hits me that we're still living life the same old way...always in a rush.
But then I spend an evening on deck reading with Emmett. The sun comes up
and all I have to do is watch. The dolphins come and escort us into the
harbor... and everything is different.
We made it to Charleston ahead of schedule and had the anchor down
by 9am. First item on the agenda was a good nap, followed by a good
cleaning up of the boat. Tomorrow we'll go explore the town and wait out a
cold front that could be bringing bad weather. Hopefully after that, we'll
still make it to Cape Canaveral on time. After that, no more schedules.
I promise!
October 20 Yesterday we met up with a friend from Kathleen's
garden club. Diane and her husband Curt have a winter home here in
Charleston and they were gracious enough to show us the sights of this handsome
city. The amazing architecture and lovely gardens had Kathy drooling
steadily throughout the day. When our feet grew too tired to wander any
more, we went to Diane & Curt's lake front home where Curt introduced me to his
chardonnay collection. Splendid! Now I'm not usually a chardonnay
drinker, but with Curt's guidance, I might be persuaded to change.
A few blocks from their home, a new wine and tapas bar had opened.
Thinking they said "topless bar" I quickly agreed to go. Well, it wasn't
topless, but I wasn't disappointed either. The food was fabulous, and the
place new enough that the staff had time to visit with the guests. The
chef came out to talk about the food. The owner came out to welcome us and
talk about the wine. The waitress put up with Emmett's shameless flirting.
Before the night was over, the chef had Emmett in the kitchen learning how to
plate the appetizers!
Interestingly enough, the owner once lived on an 80 foot sailboat
and had gone cruising herself. She brought us such an amazing bottle of
wine that I had to buy two more bottles from her to put in the ship's wine
cellar. As a sailor, she asked us to send her an email and let her know
where we decided to drink her wine... so if you're reading this... send that
email so we can tell you!!
So if you're ever in Charleston and you're the kind of person who
enjoys great food, great wine, and really nice people, you have to go to a place
called "Soif" in the suburb of Mt. Pleasant. What a great night!
Today we face the difficult task of sailing away from good friends
to continue our voyage. As I look back at the sun setting on Charleston,
I'm feeling like we've finally found that life that we have been looking for:
to explore, to appreciate the word around us, to laugh and enjoy good
conversation, to linger over a good meal. This is the way we want to live.
Things are starting to fall into the right groove.
October 21 Yesterday evening we left Charleston to sail
what will probably be our longest offshore voyage for a long time. At
least that's what I keep promising Kathleen. It is a little over two days
of sailing for us to get to Cape Canaveral in time to watch the space shuttle
launch on Oct. 23rd. We keep kicking ourselves for being in such a hurry,
but we've promised to slow down after this last "appointment".
Today was Kathleen's birthday. A birthday at sea. While
Kath was napping, Emmett and I baked her a pound cake, made cards, and wrapped
presents. Unfortunately, the ocean brought its own present in the form of
a bad bout of sea-sickness for Kathleen. After and hour of barfing and
retching, she was unable to keep any sea sickness medications down, so I ended
up giving her a shot of Phenergan, which stopped the seasickness, but left her
passed out on her bunk the rest of the day. This marks another in a long
line of birthday mishaps for Kathy. It would be almost comical if not for
how sick she felt all day. So hopefully tomorrow will bring a calm harbor,
a belated birthday celebration, and so forth.
October 23 As we rounded Cape Canaveral, we could see the
shuttle on its launch pad through the binoculars. As we entered port, we
were met by two NASA ships that go out to collect the solid rocket boosters
after they splash down. Looks like the launch was still on!
My dad met us in Titusville, Florida. After we got our
anchor down, Emmett and I jumped in the dinghy to go find him and, lo and
behold, there was a jeep on shore blinking its lights furiously at us. Dad
also brought a month's worth of accumulated mail. It was almost like
Christmas! I'm afraid we weren't at our best to greet Dad, though.
The boat was pretty messy after a two day passage, and Kathleen still felt
rotten. I think she got dehydrated from the seasickness and it wasnt until
the second day back on shore that she finally recovered.
Now if you want to see a rocket go up, nearly anywhere in central
Florida will do. But if you want to be as close as a civilian can get, you
need to write your congressman ahead of time and request VIP tickets. We
received ours in the mail a few weeks ago and I had images in my head of
some air conditioned reception hall connected to a nice patio where we could
chat with the astronaut's wives. I imagined a backstage tour. I
imagined us being so close we could wave to the astronauts as they climbed
aboard.
Maybe my expectations were a little to high. The day began,
of all places, in a Sears parking lot where we joined a crowd of plain old
normal folk just like ourselves. We were told to bring photo ID, due to
the extreme security. But as long as our name was on the list, we could
just climb on board. Which was good, since the invitation we received
listed my name as David.
We were driven by motor coach to the Kennedy Space Center parking
lot, run through magnetometers, then back on the bus. We were given "VIP
launch guest" buttons to wear. After warning us about alligators in the swamps,
heat exhaustion, sunburn, and acid droplets from the shuttle exhaust, our bus
dropped us off along side a road that cut across a large lagoon. Far on
the horizon we could see a box that was the vehicle assembly building, and a
tiny dot that was the shuttle. There were pavillion tents, chairs, port a pots,
and food vendors set up. The 4 coaches that made up the congressional VIP
delegation was matched by maybe a dozen more busses. Most of these people
had ribbons pinned to their chest with an astronaut's name. It seems each
astronaut was allowed to invite about 3 motor coaches of their closest friends
to this ditch beside the road to watch them go up.
It was hot. We had 2 1/2 hours to go before launch. We
smartly secured seats under the tent were we were soon feeling pressed in on all
sides by those seeking shade. Kathleen's nearest neighbor kept bending
over to fuss with a blanket, poking her rather large bottom into her personal
breathing space. Toddlers wailed, their faces wet with tears, sweat, and
slobber. Our only relief came from the $2.00 bottles of water that NASA
was happy to sell us. Only a hour to go! I chatted with another
overweight lady who refused to believe that this chair was saved for my son.
("I'll get up as soon as he comes back") It seems she was the third cousin
of the woman who was to be the commander on this shuttle flight.
And then, like the relief of a cool rain, the final countdown came right
on schedule. Ignition! We saw huge billowing clouds of that toxic
acid smoke rise around the shuttle. Lift off!! The dot started to
move. Somehow looking larger and more impressive than the tiny blip on the
horizon that it once was. Up and up it went, taking our overheated spirits
along. Straght into a big puffy cloud without hesitation. Then
straigh out the other side, curving gracefully out across the Atlantic, until
only the starry bright dot of it's burning rocket remained.
And then it was all over. We all walked back to our air conditioned
busses. The beads of sweat on our brows evaporated coolly and folks spoke
quietly, spent after the orgasm that was the launch. Then back to the
Sears lot, back to our not-so-VIP world. And hey, why not grab a bite at
the Olive Garden?
October 26 I suspect that some day we will look back on
the past week and consider it a low point in this adventure. Cruising, it
seems, has a steep learning curve. And much of our energies in this first
month has been spent in making repairs, learning to drive the boat and run its
systems, and generally learning how to live in a different way. It has not
always been easy, nor fun. It has certainly not been what we had in mind
when we dreamed of distant sandy beaches, exotic lands, and cold tropical drinks
while leisurely watching the sunset. Oh, I'm sure those things are still
ahead of us, but we have to get there yet.
We sized up the rest of our travel plans after the shuttle launch
and figured we could take three leisurely days driving down the intercoastal
waterway to get to Ft. Lauderdale. Once we get there, we're planning some
final boat work, and a trip to see some friends before we leave the US by mid
November. Great, we thought, it will be nice to move at a slower pace.
Well, we started down the Indian river. As I may have
mentioned, all bridges on the ICW are supposed to be at least 65 feet above the
water, or they are supposed to be a draw bridge. This is important because
our mast is 64 feet 4 inches high. I thought we had negotiated our only
"close call" bridge back in North Carolina. No such luck. Our first
bridge heading south was just low enough to clip off the navigation light on top
of the mast. Great. More repairs! Then we got to the next 65
foot bridge to find the tidal guage reading a height of only 63 1/2 feet!
Now what? We anchored for the night, checked the tides and waited until
low tide at 4 am. Through my binoculars I could see it still reading a
little under 64 feet. I called the coast guard...they had no information
about water levels, but my only guess is that there must have been a lot of rain
recently and the river was a foot or more above what it was supposed to be.
I felt devastated telling Kathleen that it looked like our only option would be
to go back up river, out into the Atlantic, and head south from there.
Worse still, the weather reports looked like our best time to go was right now,
before the wind and seas picked up again.
We sailed back up and through that last bridge, terrified that our
mast would bash into the steel girders above. We made it through.
(Easy now that the nav light was gone!) But I let my guard down too soon,
missed a navigation mark and ended up grounding on a mud bar less than 100 yards
away. Fortunately it was a soft bar and in 5 minutes we were backed off
and heading out to sea. Now the guidebooks all say that everyone will run
aground a few times in the ICW and I had been patting myself on the back for not
doing so, even though we were travelling in the dark and stuff. Guess my
luck was catching up. And I was running on very little sleep.
We went through one lock and again felt disgraced. As
we tried to pull away from the wall of the lock, the wind kept pushing us back
against the wall. Kathleen was by now fit to be tied. After finally
getting out of the lock, she curled up in a ball, and surmised that we are
completely incompetent, unable to sail a boat this big, and very likely to kill
ourselves soon. Not even the sighting of a manatee could lift her from her
dark mood. This was serious. I do believe that, had there been a
convenient place at that moment, Kathleen may very well have grabbed her wallet,
stepped off the boat, and refused to come back. As it was though, we had
talked about this months ago. We knew that there would probably be some
rough spots in learning to adapt to boat life. So we made a promise that,
short of sinking the boat, we'd keep at it for a year before passing judgment on
this life. So we've got 11 months to go to get our act together.
In the mean time, we did see the space shuttle's solid rocket boosters
getting towed back into Port Canaveral after the launch. Glad to see
they're saving our tax money by recycling these things:
October 27 Time heals, puts things in perspective, and turns
ordeals into great adventure stories. We ended up having a nice sail down
the coast of Florida. By early morning the rain started and we arrived
soggy and tired in Ft. Lauderdale. We had rented the dock behind someone's
house and were guided there by Tate, our local yacht manager who will be helping
us get the work done we need. After a quiet evening and a good nights
rest, the mast head seems repairable, the future looks to be without any more
bridges or locks, and things will probably work out fine. As long as
nothing catches on fire today.
Kathleen, true to her word, has not mutinied. But she has
declared that she is entitled to some serious spa treatment when she flies out
to visit her friend Nancy in a few days.
October 28 I burst out laughing to think just how far my life
had changed. Six weeks ago, I was a respected doctor with a house on the
lake, cars, friends and all that. And now fate finds me sitting alone,
late at night in a laundromat...dirty, smelly, and drinking a large can of
malt liquor.
Here's how it all happened. In the morning, I caught a cab to
the airport and rented a car for a few days. After our day of rest, we
were ready to tackle a long list of items we need in Ft. Lauderdale A
little retail therapy, if you will. It was a sweltering hot, so if nothing
else we could cool off in some air conditioned stores. We tried on some
wetsuits, bought some miscellaneous items for the boat, and had a lovely dinner
at P.F Chang's. Emmett did homeschool at the table over appetizers.
Coming out of Home Depot, Emmett opined that he was ready to go
home and get some rest. You know he's REALLY tired when Emmett volunteers
to go to bed. We still had a very large bag of dirty laundry in the back
seat of the rental car needing to get done, though. So off we went.
Now it is a sad truth that if you want to find a laundromat, you
should go straight to what is known as a "low income neighborhood". And my
wife the social worker can sniff her way straight to the seediest part of town
with no effort at all. In fact, she managed to find a laundromat right at
the edge of the ghetto. Right on the other side of the proverbial tracks
lay additional retail establishments. So as I gathered up the bag of
laundry, Kath announced that she and Emmett were going to run down the street to
Barnes and Noble, which she knew was always open til at least 11, and "check on
a few books". As she drove off, I looked down the street. There was
no Barnes and Noble that I could see. I'm sure it was out there, but I
wasn't going to walk over if I wanted to get back in time to move my loads to
the dryers. All I could see was a gas station, a check cashing and bail
bonds place, and the "Puerto Rican Style Unisex Salon". You can picture
the neighborhood now, can't you?
And it was hot. The giant dryers had clearly been running all
day. Two large women sat on a bench out front, dressed in such a way that
might suggest that all their usual clothes were spinning around in the dryer
inside. After setting up 4 wash machines and feeding them about two rolls
of quarters, all I could think about was getting something cold to drink.
A soda machine sat near the door, ready to slurp up any quarters
one might have left. And after such a hot day, every selection was sold
out save the button in the lower right, which appeared to have been struck a
blow with such force as to leave it unreadable. I could certainly
understand what might drive someone to do that.
As I walked out front to share the bench, I saw the gas station again.
In the window a sign read, "Cold Beer". Yes. Cold beer suddenly
sounded really, really good. I wandered in and surveyed the selection.
There were 12 packs and 6 packs of the usual stuff. Next cooler held an
extrordinary variety of enormous cans and bottles that only in America could be
called "single serving". Here I learned that micro-brews don't come as a 40
ounce. The smallest option was the 16 ounce "king can" which still looked
like a pretty big beer to a whitey like me. In that size, I could choose
from Colt 45, Schlitz, and several other malt liquors with very manly sounding names.
"When in Rome", I thought to myself, and chose blindly.
The proprietor slid it into one of those little brown bags that
you'd see rolling from the palm of a bum passed out on the sidewalk. "99
cents" he said unceremoniously. (Wow, cheap beer really IS cheap.
I doubt you could buy a juice box in a 7-11 for that price!)I wanted to tell him that I don't usually
drink malt liquor from paper bags in front of laundromats, but I could tell he
wasn't going to care.
October 31 Readers of my "pre cruising log" will recall my
efforts to revive the washing machine onboard Uliad. These efforts
ultimately failed. The repairman in Ft. Lauderdale declared it unfit for
any further efforts on his part, so we set about replacing it. This was no
small feat because the machine was evidently built into the boat. All the
doors and hatches in the room it sits are too small to remove it. So
replacement ultimately meant: Disassembling the cabinetry built around the
machine, cutting a hole in the bulkhead that separates the utility room from the
foreward sail locker, sliding it through the hole and up through the large
foreward hatch.
Tate, our trusty yacht manager in Ft. Lauderdale arrived with a
sawz-all and within a few hours we had the thing out. The washing machine
repair guy arrived with a lovely new machine for us and hauled off the old one.
We made a little sling out of some rope and attached it to the halyard to make a
little crane to lift the new machine onboard and down the hole. Alot of
careful planning ahead of time paid off...the hole we had cut was just the right
size to squeeze the new machine through. By the end of the day we had it
hooked up and I could call Kathleen to say, "Guess what I'm doing....Laundry!)
No more forays to the laundromat for us! Which is a good thing, because
that malt liquor didn't agree with me the next day.
The bigger part of this project turned out to be putting everything
back that had to be removed. I spent last night searching the town for a
large sheet of aluminum to repair the hole we'd made in the bulkhead. I
needed a bigger sheet than we cut out so I'd have a couple inches of overlap to
bolt it back together. This morning I continued my search and a sales
clerk suggested I go down the block to a place which was aptly named "Aluminum
Supply Co." Less than an hour later I was driving back to the boat with a
39 x 48 inch sheet of 3/16 inch thick aluminum plate sticking out the back of my
rental car trunk.
Now came the fabrication. First we had to cut the sheet to
size, then drill the bolt holes. I then pulled out, for the first time
ever, my trusty Fleet Farm Tap & Die set. I spent several hours figuring
out how to tap screw threads into the bulkhead holes I had drilled. Back
to a hardware store where I bought a tapered tap and also learned that I needed
a special sized drill bit that was slightly larger that what I was using.
With that, the tapping went great. Finally, by sunset I had the ladder to
the sail locker re-installed. (Had to cut that out also.) What a sense of
accomplishment.
I'm exhausted, but it feels good. It feels good in a primal,
manly way to work with my hands and fix stuff. It feels good to be so
engrossed in work again that you don't realize the time. I remember
feeling that way in medical school and residency...I was totally in love with
medicine, and loved learning everything I could. I could read a text book for 8
hours straight. I'd wake up and couldn't wait to get up and start my day.
Somewhere along the line I lost that...but today, right here, that love of my
work and my life is back.
