The Log of Spartina

the chapters of regret

2012-01-30T22:24:00.000-05:00

I could easily finish Bland Simpson's book "The Inner Islands" tonight, but I won't. The book is too good, I want to savor and enjoy every word. I will make it last as long as I can. For me the sign of a great book is my wish to never reach the last chapter. That is how I feel about this book.

The chapter I read tonight, starting at page 139, is called "The View from Bird Shoal". Above you will see a photograph of Bruce standing near Spartina at Bird Shoal on our first cruise together. We passed through there again a couple of years later with our sailing partners Paul and Dawn. Reading Simpson's description of the shoals - both historical and personal - makes me want to go back again. And I will soon.

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In a few days I will head out to San Diego for a family visit. While there I will see Bruce and we will sit down with charts and (to steal a phrase from Bland Simpson) "some of the the stuff that made Milwaukee famous" to talk about our Fall trip. Thinking about that this evening led me to look up the wind compass for Cape May in September. Here it is below...

A lot of wind out of the NE, with some out of the S. Typical, I would think, for late summer to early Fall when seasons are shifting. Wind speed average is about 9 mph. NE winds at 9 mph for sailing down the Jersey shore of Delaware Bay, I would gladly take that. What we we get, we'll just have to wait and see.

steve

June?

2012-01-29T20:02:00.000-05:00

There were several things I could have been doing today but I was content to relax and do almost nothing.

I did sketch out a rough route for the June trip. This would go counter-clock-wise from Hobucken back to Hobucken (though I do need to talk to Shawn at Pate's Boatyard first). I've sketched in options for going by way of both the east and west ends of Cedar Island, the choice will probably be made by the wind. The sail from Cedar Island north would be my longest sail out of sight of land. The trip from Beaufort to Cape Lookout would be my first sail on the ocean.

Something to think about on a winter's day.

steve

skunked

2012-01-29T10:56:00.002-05:00

This was peak action during our fishing expedition yesterday.

And this was a lull in the action. Boy, I needed the break.

We rounded Cape Henry just as the sun came up. Spent five hours trolling, not a bite. But it was a beautiful day on the water. I can think of nothing else that I could have done yesterday that would have been more enjoyable.

steve

the daily mail

2012-01-27T16:40:00.002-05:00

Like an early morning breeze that hints of the coming wind, I received some mail that reminds me I could be sailing in a matter of weeks.

The nice people at Somers Cove Marina in Crisfield, Maryland sent me a free year's permit to their boat ramp. They did this because of the inconvenience that was caused to me when the lost my check and application for a permit last summer. It was no inconvenience at all; they found my envelope tucked in their safe, my permit arrived in time for my Fall sailing trip on Tangier Sound.

But I won't argue with them about this - the pass will save me $35 when I launch for the Spring walkabout. Crisfield, which is about two and one half hours from here, is an excellent launching point to sail Tangier Sound. Being that close I may use the permit a few times this coming year.

I also received half a dozen hammock hooks from Duckworks. They make great hooks for bungee cord. I use them several places on Spartina - up under the foredeck, under the side decks hidden behind the coaming, between frames and beneath the cb trunk cap. I needed two to hold the new deck slot cap in place, I ordered a few extras as I will need them sooner or later.

To catch a big fish you need a big lure. I picked up this lure, 16 inches long with a lead head that weighs about 20 ounces, at Bass Pro Shop this morning. I'm heading out with a some friends tomorrow morning on a fishing trip. The striper, big ones, are still thick just off of Cape Henry at the mouth of Chesapeake Bay. And mixed with the stripers are Bluefin Tuna. We may catch striper, we may hook a tuna, we may catch nothing.

The weather forecast is good. At the very least we'll have a good time.

steve

"this edge of everything"

2012-01-26T20:55:00.001-05:00

I put the title of this post in quotation marks because those are not my words. They belong to Bland Simpson and can be found in in the seventh chapter of his wonderful, lyrical book "The Inner Islands". The entire quote is as follows..

Why would you ever leave? I wondered again and again, beguiled, hypnotized, drunk with love for this sand-filament of wind and water, this edge of everything.

Beautiful words, don't you think?

Simpson was talking about visiting the cupola atop the old Coast Guard Station on Portsmouth Island just across from Ocracoke Island. I have only seen Portsmouth Island from a distance, I have never visited the coast guard station. But the feeling Simpson expresses - that I know all too well. It reminded me of the last evening of a solo sail on Chesapeake Bay in the Fall of 2010. I was anchored in a cove at the north end of Smith Island. I did not want to leave. From the logbook....

"The bivy was all set up and it was probably time to go to bed. But instead I just stood there on the aft cockpit seat, resting my arms on the main boom. The breeze was warm and out of the southeast. The moon, nearly full, was rising to the east. And I could look out over Black Cove, past the marshes and see Tangier Sound and the lights of Crisfield in the distance. I stood there for the longest time - 30 minutes, maybe 40 or maybe an hour, I don't know. I just stood there and soaked it all in. It was almost time to go home, but I wanted to enjoy that last night on the water."

It was the end of a trip that I did not want to end. I remember watching the sky changing from light blue to dark blue and then purple approaching black. After a week on the water I rocked gently and comfortably with the rhythm of the boat. My lips tasted of salt, my skin burnt by the wind and the sun. Looking to the east I could see the ruffled waters of Tangier Sound, to the west was Chesapeake Bay. The island was to the south, above me were the stars. It felt like I was part of it all, or maybe just close enough to see it all.

"This edge of everything."

steve

fishing, or better yet, sailing

2012-01-25T14:52:00.001-05:00

It is in the mid-50's today, just like it was yesterday. Clear skies and a gentle breeze. As I drove over the bridge at Rudee Inlet yesterday morning I was thinking I should have been out fishing. The striper and bluefin tuna are still out there just off the beach.

If the weather holds I might head out there this weekend on a friend's boat. We'll see.

Or better yet, if Spartina was in good shape, I could go sailing. But there is still work to be done on the boat. This is a good reminder to finish up the work and have her ready to sail by late February when we sometimes get a nice warm spell.

steve

how could I forget Belhaven?

2012-01-22T20:22:00.001-05:00

Looking over the chart in my last post I realized I had left off a couple of places I've been wanting to visit.

I've sailed up the Pamlico River several times, passing the mouth of the Pungo River and Belhaven. I do want to visit Belhaven. I have driven through the town once or twice, never visited it by boat. That should be on the list.

There are several great bays for anchoring as Pamlico Sound curves to the west into the mouth of the Pamlico River. I've marked four bays with x's, from left to right Rose Bay, Juniper Bay, East Bluff Bay and Wyesocking Bay. A sail from Cedar Island across the middle of Pamlico Sound to East Bluff Bay might be interesting. And on the south side of the Pamlico River, marked xx, are a series of creeks that I would like to explore.

With Belhaven and the mouth of the Pamlico River in mind, I'll probably save Engelhard and Ocracoke for later. At least that is my thinking for now.

steve

caught by a memory

2012-01-22T14:30:00.002-05:00

The sight today of a gold weedless spoon at Bass Pro Shops took me back twenty-some years to a favorite fishing memory. I went from standing in the fishing tackle aisle to standing knee-deep in waders as the out-going tide rushed past me at Lynnhaven Inlet. This was before kids, before I was married and before a regular work schedule interfered with fishing and sailing.

In the predawn darkness of a fall morning, a patch of water erupted in silver flashes along the shadow line cast by the lights of the Lesner Bridge. I watched it happen three or four times, took the twin-tail green lure off my fishing line and tied on a gold spoon. I cast just beyond the school of baitfish, let the lure drift towards me and quickly raised the tip of the rod just where I had seen the school of fish. The baitfish erupted again and again as I made several casts. But I was not after them, I was after the fish that was making them jump.

Something was down there beneath them, waiting for them to drift overhead, ready to come up from below with gills flaring and mouth wide open. Then one more cast, the baitfish jump and the rod tip pulls down as a nice flounder mistook the spoon for prey.

Sight-casting - targeting a specific fish - is something that I do not do very often, something that I do not do very well. But once in a while it works. The memory made me smile.

I was out shopping today, it was too cold and too rainy to do much of anything else. I had a nice gift certificate in hand, a Christmas present from my youngest daughter. I picked up the new gold spoon, a Johnson Silver Minnow (even though it is gold in color), which will work well both casting to schools of fish in the open waters Chesapeake Bay and casting along the marshes of Pamlico Sound.

I also picked up a Mann's Stretch 15+, a floating/diving lure, which with its large lip will dive deeper than my current trolling lure. It will dive too deep for the shallow waters of Pamlico and Core Sounds, but will be perfect for Chesapeake Bay and Tangier Sound in the spring when stripers congregate in the bay waiting for the rivers to warm for spawning season.

And there was even enough money on the certificate for a FireSteel Scout, a fire starter which I have long needed to add to my hypothermia kit. And lastly I replenished my Heater Meals supply - I like to have two of the self-heating meals on each cruise - with a mashed potatoes and beef dinner. Thanks you very much, Grace.

Warm weather caught me off guard yesterday. If I had been looking ahead at the weather I would have prepped the coaming for some varnish. But I had not been paying attention. I did sand some of the deck areas - up under the foredeck, on the bunk flat and in the aft cockpit sole - and applied a first light coast of steel grey topside paint. It was at least a start. By afternoon the wind had swung around to the north and the temperature dropped back into the 40's.

Since my short trip a few days ago to the Outer Banks I've been thinking about the June sail. I might start in Hobucken, or maybe Engelhard, I'm not sure. Even if I start in Engelhard I will pass through Hobucken on the way south - I like that area and I would enjoy seeing my friend Shawn at Pate Boatyard. I would also like to revisit Swan Creek where I met friends Curt and Alan last Spring. Beaufort and Cape Lookout are on list, and if weather cooperates I'll sail from one to the other outside on Onslow Bay. And then up Core Sound with, hopefully, the wind on the stern quarter. Ocracoke? Maybe but probably not. I might save that for next year.

steve

and I like the name too....

2012-01-19T21:07:00.000-05:00

I ran down to Outer Banks for a couple of days of work. Any visit to coastal Carolina - for fun or for work - is a treat.

While down there I came across a new bug repellant called "Outer Banks Skeeter Beater". I gotta say I really love that name. Those of you who have been visiting this blog for a few years might remember that it was originally called The SkeeterBeater 126. That came from a cruise Bruce and I made in North Carolina with the expressed purpose of surviving the mosquitoes. Our solution at the time was the OR Alpine Bivy, which proved to be a huge success on that trip. But even with the bivy there were times when the mosquitoes were still a problem - I mean you have to come out of that bivy sooner or later and sometimes the skeeters were waiting.

The Outer Banks Skeeter Beater might be the solution to those early morning - or sometimes early evening - mosquitoes. I say "might" because we are in the thick of winter with no bugs in sight, I haven't had the chance to try it out. But what I'm hearing is that a lot of people that spend time outdoors in coastal Carolina - forestry workers, highway workers, fisherman - are starting to use it.

The spray is a non-deet repellant made with lemon grass oil and rosemary oil. I can tell you that it has a nice odor but does not have the oily feeling of deet products. Nor does it damage plastic or rubber like deet (my SPOT locator beacon has white spots all over it from an poorly aimed spray of deet). I can't endorse the product as I have not used it. But this is made by folks that live in the swamps of North Carolina. If anybody knows about mosquitoes, these are the guys.

There will be a bottle of Skeeter Beater on board Spartina for the Spring cruise.

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I received my copy of Bland Simpson's "The Inner Islands, A Carolinian's Sound Country Chronicle" today. It is a "new" copy of the book bought from a used book dealer through Amazon. A $24 book for $2. Not bad. And it was autographed too! This book will make for perfect winter reading. While I have sailed quite a bit through the Sounds of North Carolina I will admit that I am very ignorant of the local history. I would like to know more about the islands and villages, some which still exists and others that do not.

Here is a description of the book from Amazon....

Blending history, oral history, autobiography, and travel narrative, Bland Simpson explores the geography and biodiversity of the islands that lie in eastern North Carolina's sounds, rivers, and swamps. The Inner Islands presents Simpson's signature reportage on territory often bypassed by tourists and scholars alike.

I suspect that after reading this book I will look at the Sounds of North Carolina in a completely different way.

steve

the volume goes to "11"

2012-01-15T13:35:00.002-05:00

My youngest daughter had not even left the house to return to college when I started carrying all the gear from Spartina up to her room. She is gone now, on her way back to Richmond, and her room has become the storage area for all the "stuff" that normally resides inside the boat. Having the boat cleaned out will make it much simpler to do the touch up patching, sanding and painting that is needed in the cockpit.

I am always surprised by the amount of gear that accumulates in a boat. I try be selective about what goes into the boat, taking along only what is really necessary. But somehow the odd item always finds a home.

When I repack the boat I will sort through the items, leaving behind a few things I don't really need.

Looking at the calendar. I would like to have Spartina finished and repacked in six weeks, ready to sail as soon as we get a warm spell in March. I should have about eight weeks of day sailing before the Spring walkabout on Tangier Sound. I ought to go buy the paint and varnish soon so that I will be ready for the days when it is warm enough to paint.

I did get my new Uniden Atlantis 250 handheld vhf radio out of the box. I put batteries in it to make sure it worked, then took the batteries and tucked them in a bag with the radio. There are several things I like about the new vhf. It feels solid, uses "aa" batteries (the same as most of the other gear on the boat), has a bright, easily read screen and - when set at top volume - is surprisingly loud. Being loud is a good thing when it is windy out on the water, when the sails are flapping or when the outboard is running. It is so loud it reminded me of the amplifier that goes to "11" in the mockumentary Spinal Tap. I mean it really is one louder than ten.

steve

night ops

2012-01-13T13:49:00.001-05:00

An E-2C Hawkeye launches off the deck of an aircraft carrier,

the blinking navigation strobes marking its path.

An F-18 Hornet, the Navy's fighter jet, follows.

This was last night, a clear cool and windy

night 100 miles off the Virginia Capes.

I was raised in Navy family and I am glad for

every chance I get to spend with the sailors.

steve

wet and windless, revisited

2012-01-11T20:20:00.000-05:00

I just read through the seven days of the Wet and Windless 162, my fall sail on Tangier Sound. It was, as the name suggests, very wet and very windless. At the time I remember thinking the sail was not much fun. Rain, thunderstorms, fog - constant moisture for the first few days, and then occasional rainstorms and thunderstorms the last few. And inconsistent winds.

Now that I read the log it seems to me it was a very nice trip. Part of that is because I like the way I wrote the log entries - in the present tense (something I stole from my favorite cruising books). And part of it is because the idea of sailing, wet and windless or not, is very appealing as I sit here listening to the rain without even the remote chance of sailing for the next several weeks.

So here, if you don't mind, are a few photographs from the trip.

steve

winter doldrums

2012-01-10T21:14:00.000-05:00

The cap for the deck slot has a clear coat of epoxy on it and is waiting for a few coats of varnish. I need to repaint the foredeck area within the coaming, and repaint some of the worn areas inside of the cockpit.

Looking at the calendar I see I have about seven weeks until sailing season. A lot of time for the little bit of work I need to do to get Spartina ready for the season. There is no need to rush. I will wait for the warm days, enjoying the work of off-season maintenance on days when the weather hints of the coming Spring.

steve

fish on!

2012-01-08T15:20:00.003-05:00

A beautiful, chilly, breezy morning on the water off of the Virginia Beach tourist strip. We headed out of the fishing center at first light, had the lines in the water about 30 minutes later.

The forecast for mostly cloudy skies proved wrong, it was sunny. The forecast for light winds was an underestimation, it was a little breezy. But there is plenty of shelter on a 54 foot charter boat. The morning sun felt great as we relaxed in the cockpit, waiting for that first rod to go off.

The water was thick with bait - menhaden. And that has drawn in not only stripers and bluefin tuna, but also whales. For thirty minutes we watched of pair of humpback whales playing, spouting and rolling on the surface of the ocean. They laid on their sides and waved their long white flippers in the air. I just had my point and shoot, no long lens, so you will have to take my word for it.

I took the first rod with a fish on, it turned out to be a nice 30 pound fish that gave me a little more than I expected for an early morning workout.

This is at least our tenth year (we've lost track) of doing this little fishing expedition, either to the Outer Banks or to nearby Virginia Beach. Dinner, a little party and playoff football on the television the night before, then to the docks for the 1/2 day morning trip. Average age of those on board, measured by the calendar year, is probably in the mid-50's. Average age, measured by maturity displayed during the once a year adventure, is about 12.

It was a good day for fishing, not a great day for catching. We brought in just three stripers. But they were a nice class of fish - each weighing around 30 pounds. Filleted out the gave each of us about 10 pounds of fish to take home - plenty for four or five meals for our families.

There are countless ways to prepare fresh caught striper, I've talked about this before.

The "shoulder part" of the fillets were thick enough to cut into little steaks. I'll put some of those steaks into the oven tonight, roast for a few minutes, flip them over, add a pinch of parmesan and panko on top, then broil for a minute or two. Served with smashed potatoes, roasted grape tomatoes and asparagus tips, it should make for a nice dinner.

steve

On the boardwalk

2012-01-07T17:12:00.001-05:00

Bosque del Apache

2012-01-06T00:11:00.007-05:00

I recently returned from a trip to a wildlife reserve in New Mexico called Bosque del Apache. It is located about two hours drive above Las Cruces on the Rio Grande River. It is a beautiful spot and the winter home for many migrating birds like the Sandhill Cranes. These birds flock here in the tens of thousands. There are many other birds as well. Here are some shots I liked on a first pass through of the thousand images I captured.

The first three pictures are of Sandhill Cranes. These are big graceful birds and are fun to photograph. They roost in ponds at night to avoid predators. Temperatures were in the low twenties when we started shooting before sunrise. Really cold if there is a wind blowing. The birds are fun to watch as they extricate themselves from the iced over ponds. It's really slippery for them. As the sun starts to climb in the sky the cranes leave the ponds and head for the fields for a day of eating and socializing.

This is a Northern Harrier I believe with a duck he'd just taken for dinner.

This is of course a bald eagle. There were three or four hanging around waiting for a meal.

I know this isn't about sailing, but it was a fun adventure. I know how much Steve loves the birds so I just have to share the photos with him.

Bruce

(P.S. I could use the radio, too but the Captain won't let me. He says I need much more training and more of a command voice.)

going, going, gone

2012-01-05T20:45:00.001-05:00

It seems, from from reading emails and the internet, everybody is going somewhere.

Barry, the builder of two beautiful Melonseeds, above, has talked about sailing Aeon and Caesura on nearby Back Bay or farther south along the Pamlico Sound shores of Ocracoke Island.

My friend Mike, normally a Melonseed sailor, tells me he is leaving his Melonseed behind and joining a friend with a Marsh Cat for a sail from Key West to the Dry Tortugas.

Dawn and her son Alan, above, are gearing up for the 1200 mile Watertribe Ultimate Florida Challenge. They are training for the race while at the same time designing and building their trimaran.

Kiwibird, I suspect, will be padding the Everglades Challenge, along with her occasional weekend outings such as a solo paddle around Shackleford Banks, above. Kristen never talks about training and yet she is the record holder for single female paddlers, completing the 300 miles of expedition racing in 5 days, 10 hours and 15 minutes.

Friends Mary Lou and Fred are talking about sailing their boat from Norfolk to their home in Rock Hall. Maybe I can be there on the water with Spartina to see them off on the journey.

Webb Chiles will soon be heading to New Zealand to sail his boat The Hawke of Tuonela. While out sailing the 37' boat I'm sure he'll be working on plans to sail his new, smaller boat Gannet, above. Where he will go on that boat I do not know. But he has said he wants to have the Moore 24 on or within sight of the ocean by the end of the year.

As for me, I'm going fishing. Above you will see some of our supplies. We'll pick up some oysters on the way to the oceanfront hotel. Knob Creek, oysters and crackers, then dinner - we need to get our game face on for a good day of fishing.

I said a day or two ago that the bluefin tuna, which had been caught mixed in with the stripers, had disappeared from our coastal waters. They have returned. Today a 79 inch long bluefin tuna, weighing in at 250 pounds, was brought to the docks. It was caught within a mile or two of the beach - right where we'll be fishing on Sunday. I'll settle for a couple of nice stripers, but the thought of bluefins swimming in the same water, chasing the same bait, does sound interesting. As for the one below, I hear that it is now on a jet bound for Japan.

Everybody is going somewhere.

steve

radio days

2012-01-03T21:33:00.004-05:00

I placed an order the other day for a new radio. We carry two radios on board Spartina, one as a primary radio and the other as a backup that is tucked away in a dry bag along with the spare gps. My backup radio, which is seven or eight years old and had to be repaired a year ago, has lost its volume. The basic repair price for the radio was $85. Buying a new Uniden Atlantis 250 Handheld Marine VHF from Defender, with shipping, comes to about $77.

The most common use for a radio on board is checking the weather stations, which I can be seen doing at Dobbins Island on the Magothy River, above. We'll check the weather first thing in the morning, a couple of times mid-day and then again in the even. Only once in a while do we use the radio to communicate with someone else - typically a bridge tender or the captain of a passing tug.

Bruce gives me a hard time when I'm calling a bridge tender as the tender typically responds by calling me "captain." Bruce seems to think Spartina is too small a vessel for me to be called captain. I think he is jealous because he does not have a radio.

As for other sailing gear, a while back I sent my North Face Convertible Pants in for warranty service. I had never sent pants in for any kind of service before. But the customer service folks at North Face told me that they would repair the stitching around the pockets, which had come undone. I sent the pants in and a few weeks later they sent a box to me that contained not the repaired pants, but instead a brand new pair of pants.

That is very good service, particularly when you consider the pants had been very well used for the past four or five years. The new pants were a different color than the ones I had sent it, Moab Khaki in place of the original Dune Beige. I might have grown to like the new color, but I would not have grown to fit the new inseam which was two inches longer than my pants. North Face tells me they are now sending me pants that are the correct color and, more importantly, the correct length.

Even with the little mix up, this is great service. When I do need to buy another pair of pants, they will be made my North Face.

We are getting a little blast of cold arctic air today and tomorrow so there is not much fishing going on. But the wind and cold temperatures will be gone in time for our fishing expedition this weekend. Fishing for stripers has been good over the past week, let's hope it stays that way. Interestingly enough, mixed in with the stripers these days are blue fin tuna weighing up to 150 pounds. This is a phenomenon that occurs every six or seven years, big blue fin tuna coming in to feed on the menhaden within a mile or two of the coast. Odds of us catching one are very small, and I don't mind that as I have heard fisherman have spent up to an hour and a half reeling them in. Our trip is a half-day trip, just four hours. I don't know that I want to spend half my trip fighting one fish.

steve

1/1/12

2012-01-01T19:30:00.000-05:00

chilled

roasted

toasted

steve

enough of that schmaltzy crap....

2012-01-01T10:17:00.000-05:00

it's time to cook...

Menu for the day..

smoked salmon to be served chilled

accompanied by roasted oysters hot off the grill

pasta salad with sun-dried tomatoes and mozzarella cheese

nfl football and some boat work

Dinner is at six. Come on by....

steve

an evening walk

2011-12-31T23:28:00.000-05:00

I had never heard of a Scottish walk until this afternoon. I am glad I joined in. On a waterfront town that dates back almost 400 years it felt kind of special.

There were big pipes and muskets, talk of Scotland and old England, tartan kilts and lots of redheads. And a celebration for a battle a few miles to the south that led to a new nation.

I had never seen people reach out to other as they sang Auld Lang Syne. I am not the sentimental type, but I have to say it tugged at my heart.

And here's a hand my trusty frien'

And gie's a hand o' thine;

We'l tak' a cup of kindness yet

For Auld Lang Syne

It was a nice evening on the Portsmouth waterfront.

Best wishes for a safe, happy New Year.

steve

delightfully empty

2011-12-30T13:08:00.001-05:00

The mouth of the Hawkesbury River in Australia is, Webb Chiles tells me in an email, delightfully empty. He had read my post about the film Oyster Farmer, which was filmed on that river, and Webb was sharing some of his experiences sailing in that area.

I appreciated Webb's comment, as always, but what caught my attention was the phrase "delightfully empty." I've been thinking about it for the last couple of days. That's exactly the kind of place I look for when I sit down with the maps, charts and google earth to plan a trip. Whether it is Core Sound, above, or Cod Harbor at Tangier Island, below, I am looking for places that are less traveled, a little bit quieter. I have always known that is where I want to go, but I have never heard those places described so well. "Delightfully empty." Thanks, Webb.

So it was today that I started looking over the map of Tangier Sound for the Spring walkabout. What better way to spend a slow day at the office? I have sailed on the Sound several times over the last few years and I can't wait to get back again. Each time out there I see more places I want to see. More creeks, marshes and islands catch my attention every time I sail the Sound. A quick look at this map below shows that for every place I have visited, there are dozens more places not yet explored.

For example on my Fall trip, the Wet and Windless 162, I anchored one evening on the northwest corner of South Marsh Island, what I consider to be the "back" side of the island since it faces Chesapeake Bay and not Tangier Sound. The next morning heading south along the island I saw for the first time Pry Cove. It looked to me then just as it looks now on the charts - a nice wide shallow body of water that offers protection from just about any wind. That would be a place I would like to anchor on the walkabout. Or even right around the southwestern corner at Sheepshead Harbor - another very nice spot. And what about the little creek that connect the two? They will all be on the list for Spring.

As will be the protected areas in the marsh behind Cedar Island. I passed through there on Broad Creek, which runs north/south between the two, last Fall and saw two creeks reaching out to the east and west - the Prong and Fishing Ditch. Not the most elegantly names creeks, but nonetheless very beautiful to my eye. It was too early to stop and anchor that day, but I knew right then I would return on a later cruise. Maybe this Spring.

I even pencilled in a few days on the vacation calendar next to a weekend late April and early May that might make for a nice little trip. It could be a bit chilly then, but that means less bugs; and it would be before crab season kicks in, which means less waterman on the water.

I might find those places quieter than usual, more peaceful, and maybe just a little bit more delightfully empty.

steve

the book of days, 2012

2011-12-28T20:48:00.000-05:00

I have finally received my two calendars for the coming year - the 2012 Calendar of Wooden Boats plus my work schedule. A quick look at both of those shows that my work schedule is not ideal for this year's cruises. But I will make do.

I work a rotating shift at the office, some nights and some days, some weekends and some weekends off. The end result is that with monthly schedule changes I sometimes get three or four day weekends. Take a three day weekend, add five days of vacation time plus the following weekend and I've got time for a nice adventure. But this year the schedule does not work to my benefit - instead of nice three day weekends around the usual cruising times I have, instead, one day weekends. I will just need to volunteer when I can and build up some comp time. It will all work out.

May and early June are proving to be busy months between work and family commitments. With that in mind I hope to do the Spring walkabout, a four or five day trip, in late April which is a week or two earlier than usual. It might be a little cooler then, but maybe not. I find no consistency in the weather that time of year - it could be 50 or it could be 80. I'm looking at Tangier Sound for the walkabout.

The longer Spring trip may in fact be in early Summer trip. It looks like I won't be able to get away until the second or third week in June, two to three weeks later than usual for that cruise. I CAN tell you it will be HOTTER that time of year. That trip should be a longer sail in North Carolina, including a visit to Cape Lookout.

And then the Fall trip will be the top of the Bay, Delaware Bay sail. I haven't look that far ahead on the schedule, but will soon.

While trying to mark out the trips for this year on the calendar I started thinking about my favorites from last year's cruises. Favorite what? I've listed a few below.

Favorite cruise - Back to the Islands Spring cruise with Bruce, from Onancock to Chestertown with 270 miles of fun in between

Favorite lunch in a restaurant - it's a tie between softshell crab sandwiches at Lorraine's on Tangier Island and the shrimp burger at The Grill at Morris Marina on Core Sound

Favorite fish caught - Bruce snagging a nice striper south of Smith Island

Favorite bit of advice from a local - that I could save myself some time by cutting across the sandbars leading out of Ewell on Smith Island during the high tide, this from the same guy that told me I did not know how to tie knots (he was correct in both instances)

Favorite rough water crossing - South Marsh Island to Deal Island, a dark grey morning with wind and currents in opposite directions and a very steep chop

Favorite dinner on board - sirloin tips with grilled potatoes and onions, washed down with cold beer, on Tilgman Creek

Favorite storm - two hours of wind, rain and lightning anchored in Cod Harbor at Tangier Island

Favorite afternoon sail - heading north past Jones Bay, Middle Bay, Big and Little Porpoise Bays, Mouse Harbor and then rounding Pamlico Point to ghost off the pretty white beaches of the Pamlico River

Favorite breeze - the one that carried me on Day Two of the Spring walkabout across the Neuse River down West Bay to the Thorofare out onto Core Sound under bright blue skies

Favorite evening with new friends - anchored with Curt and Alan on Swan Creek during the Spring walkabout

Favorite waitress - the one that gave us a couple of extra beers and a bottle opener at Deep Creek Marina

Favorite tall ship - the schooner Sultana coming out of Chestertown on the last leg of the Spring cruise

Favorite decision in the middle of the night with an approaching squall - to forget about the boom tent, zip up the bivy and fall back to sleep in the warm sleeping bag

Favorite lure - the one that a big fish grabbed and stole on Day One of the Chesapeake Bay trip with Bruce (I really liked that lure)

Favorite waterfront town to leave behind - Saxis

Favorite skipjack - the Rebecca T. Ruark, coming out of Dogwood Harbor on Tilghman Island

Favorite anchorage - it's a tie between a glassy calm Cod Harbor, Tangier Island and Swan Creek off of Pamlico Sound

Favorite weird sight - coming around the bend on Fishing Creek in the Hooper Island to find the channel to Chesapeake Bay lined with bamboo markers

Favorite reminder of heaven and hell - coming across a deadrise named Devil's Den in a fog bank on Fishing Bay followed by another deadrise with religious hymns blaring out of her speakers

Favorite boat - Spartina

Favorite past time - thinking about the next trip

steve

temperatures dropping, fishing picking up

2011-12-26T16:34:00.004-05:00

It was very crisp and cool this morning. Excellent! Just what we need to get the stripers going. Our trip is just about two weeks away.
Above is a photo of our most successful trip - a limit of fish (two per person, eight people on the boat equals 16 fish) weighing a total of 399 lbs, all caught in under two hours. We were back at the dock in time for breakast. That was fishing the shoals of Oregon Inlet in the Outer Banks.

Above is last year out of Rudee Inlet in Virginia Beach. We brought in some nice fish, but it was rough weather and we were not thrilled with our captain. We'll be using a different boat this year.

Reports just before Christmas and from today show that the fish are arriving.

We never quite know what will happen. We've limited out a few times, caught a handful a few times and gotten skunked a few times. And there have been days where, because of the weather, we have never even left the dock, above.

But we always have fun.

steve

a big holiday kiss...

2011-12-25T05:51:00.000-05:00

to everyone out there. Merry Christmas!

A nice little ornament the girls picked up

at the Rag Picker in Ocracoke.

Enjoy the day.

steve

I was on my way to work when I saw.....

2011-12-24T12:14:00.000-05:00

I guess he was on his way to work too.

johnny oysterseed

2011-12-24T10:48:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite films, Oyster Farmer, reappeared on my netflix instant queue last night. It is an Australian production that imdb lists correctly as comedy, drama and romance. I had watched it a couple of times over the past few years and then, through ones of those movie rights issues that I don't understand, it disappeared. Last night, looking for something to watch, I found it had come back.

I am not a film critic so I can't really judge the film other to say I enjoy it. It is a gentle story that takes place on a gently curving river in Australia where oysters are farmed. There is a simple crime using only a frozen shellfish for a weapon and a fruit roll for a disguise. There are a few romances, a little anger and a lot of humor. All of it set against the backdrop of farming oysters.

I sometimes think that if I could wake up one day with a different career it would be as an oyster farmer. What better way to make a living than to raise oysters that are good to eat and, at the same time, good for the environment? No, it is not easy work. And just like any other kind of farming it is subject to elements - weather being the most obvious one - that can ruin your crop. But but the idea of heading out in the morning to fill bushel baskets full oysters appeals to me.

The oyster farming I see in the film is different from what I have seen on the eastern shore. In the Australian film, made on the Hawkesbury River, they appear to raise the oysters on long pieces of wood set in the water, beating the wood with hammers to knock the mature oysters free.

On Chesapeake Bay I've seen oysters raised in cages roughly one foot deep and four feet square by four feet square. Those cages, set a few inches of the bottom of rivers and bays, become living reefs filled with not only oysters but also crabs, fish, shrimp, eels and just about anything else you could image.

Working on the water, producing tasty plump oysters and helping enrich the environment - what's not to like about that?

I am glad the film is back on the streaming video. It is one of those films I can watch once or twice a year and still find something new in it. For me there is more than just one kind of romance there.

steve

the christmas gift

2011-12-23T12:54:00.000-05:00

A friend at the office asked for a print of photograph below, something to give it to a friend as a Christmas gift. I was honored, and I told her that I thought of it as my favorite photograph of the year. And yet at the same time I could not explain to myself why I thought of it as such.

Well of course it should be your favorite, she said. Why not? Look at the shapes, look at the detail. If you believe in God, you can find God there. And if you don't believe in God, but instead in the forces of nature and the theory of evolution, you can find that there too. Everybody can find something in that photograph.

I'm a literal person and tend to resist thinking of photographs, mine or anybody else's, in those terms. But I appreciated her comments, and find myself thinking about them now and then. And if my friend found something there in the photograph, then I am glad for that.

steve

a walk through the swamp

2011-12-22T20:15:00.001-05:00

I have cruised down the Dismal Swamp Canal, rowed up the feeder ditch to Lake Drummond in the center of the swamp and walked along the ditches that lead into the swamp. I've even climbed the rickety steps in the of the old rotting superintendent's house on the shores of the canal, stood on the edges of the porch of the house that was once a tea parlor where travelers stopped to refresh themselves. But I had never really been in the Great Dismal Swamp. Until yesterday, that is.

I had an invite from friends to venture into the swamp. Bring something to eat and drink, wear hip waders.

It was fascinating. A thirty minute walk through the dark muddy water that at times tried to pull the waders off our feet. Roots from the trees hid in the water, reaching out to trip us all along the way. Rotting leaves, decaying cypress trees knocked down by hurricanes. Deer scrapes and bark pulled off of hardwoods by black bears.

We had to watch where we stepped, there were deep holes that could not be seen in the dark brown water. The person in the lead would call out the deep holes as they found them, each person passing the warning back to the next hiker. Vines, a mixture of poison ivy and thorny brambles, lined the trail.

At the end we arrived at an island, though it did not look like an island. Just slightly higher, drier ground than everywhere else. By the time we reached it I could not, on the overcast day, tell you which way was east or west, north or south. Somebody had a gps, someone else had a compass. I just followed along.

I read a book years ago that included a magazine story written by John Boyle O'Reilly. He canoed into the Great Dismal Swamp in the 1880's. He talked about escaped slaves, maroons they are called, that lived in the swamp. They were safe there, they were protected by the swamp. It would have been on an island like this where they lived.

The Great Dismal Swamp is a misnomer. It is a beautiful place.

steve

off-season work

2011-12-20T09:55:00.001-05:00

I epoxied the cap onto the plug for the deck slot yesterday, then sanded it this morning. Just working with the mahogany using a sheet of sandpaper wrapped around a piece of 2x2 reminded me how much I enjoyed building Spartina. My woodworking skills are very basic, but I enjoy trying to muddle my way through it.

The next step will be to drill out the screw holes in the cap, plus the screw holes left over deck hardware, and epoxy hardwood bungs into place. Then sand smooth, varnish the cap, repaint the foredeck around the mast and reinstall the blocks and cleats. When I was in "boat building mode" I would do all that in a day or two. But now I work a bit slower and will spread the jobs out over a couple of weeks.

I also ordered a waterproof chart of the C and D canal and Delaware Bay. It should arrive in the next week or so. I wanted to have the chart in hand when I go out to San Diego in February. Bruce and I will sit down with a couple of cold ones and look over the chart in the warm California sunshine.

steve

hot and cold

2011-12-18T15:21:00.003-05:00

I was out in the garage earlier today working on the cap for the new mast slot in the deck. You will see a photo of it, not quite finished, at the bottom of the post. As I worked I noticed the temperature was dropping and I, for once, was glad to see it getting colder. Our annual fishing expedition is two weeks away, we need a good cold snap to get the fish going.

For a decade or maybe more - we've lost track - friends and I have done a annual striper fishing expedition. For several years we made the trip down to the Outer Banks, catching the fish in the shoals of Oregon Inlet. The last few years the bait fish, and the stripers that follow the bait, have stayed up north around the entrance of Chesapeake Bay. So we have done our last couple trips out of Virginia Beach's Rudee Inlet. As of yesterday's fishing report the stripers have not shown up in strength at either of the places. Colder weather should get them moving.

I dropped by an outdoors shop yesterday to do some window shopping and came across Wetfire tinder. At about $9 for a pack of eight individually sealed firestarters, it seems like a pretty good deal.

This would be an improvement over the fire starting material that I carry in my hypothermia kit right now. I'll pick up a pack from the store this spring. My kit is based on a Watertribe article that you can find here. I have never used my kit, I only opened it to check the contents before each trip. But I do carry it on every sail. Someday it maybe come in handy for me, or maybe for someone else.

And speaking of the Watertribe, I've been enjoying the updates on the building of Mosquito, the trimaran that my friends Alan and Dawn are building. They plan to use it this coming March in the Watertribe's 1200 mile Ultimate Florida Challenge. They just put the trimaran in the water for a paddle test which you can read about on SandyBottom's blog.

Dawn says the sailing trials will have to wait until February. The race starts March 3, which does not give them a lot of time for adjustments. But I have no doubt that they will be ready and have a very competitive boat for the race.

Above is Spartina's new deck cap, made out of African mahogany. The screws of course will come out after the three pieces of wood - the plug cut out of the deck and two strips of mahogany - are epoxied together. The screw holes will be drilled out then I'll tap pieces of dowell into the holes. My intent had been to paint the cap white to match the deck. But now I'm thinking of finishing it bright. African mahogany looks beautiful with seven coats of varnish on it. We'll see how the other boat goes this winter, then make the decision based on time and energy.

On this cold and getting colder day I found myself listening to Jesse Winchester's southern lament "Mississippi on my Mind." I have always found it difficult to describe heat. Two days - an afternoon in Ocracoke last summer and a sail up the Neuse River a year earlier - stand out in my mind because of the heat. And I could never find words that describe that heat. Winchester calls it "an angry oven heat." That is perfect. We need to have a little cold weather now to get the stripers moving, but I'm already looking forward to next summer's angry oven heat.

steve

rigging, well weathered

2011-12-14T18:29:00.000-05:00

Some photographs from the waterfront.

steve

a walk to the light

2011-12-13T15:12:00.002-05:00

On this nice afternoon I walked a few blocks downtown to the cruise ship terminal's deck overlooking the Elizabeth River. It was sunny and warm. Above is the view from today. Below is the view from a year ago.

Winter, fast approaching, is my least favorite season.

While winter is not my favorite time of year, winter light is my favorite light.

Coming in hard and clean from a low angle, the light bounces around and casts highlights that catch my eye.

steve

the first cut is the deepest

2011-12-12T21:03:00.000-05:00

I had taken the blocks and cleats off of the foredeck about a week ago. Today I made my measurements and drew the lines for the mast slot. It is not the full slot, which would have reached all the way back to the cockpit, that I had once imagined. It is a shorter slot that reaches back about four inches. This will give me plenty of room to angle the foot of the mast into the mast hole and then raise it by walking the mast forward. Much easier than lifting the mast and rigging vertically on those windy days.

I practiced with the dummy mast and the angle is just right. It was an easy cut, one that ends just forward of frame two. No structural parts of the hull were affected. I'll take the piece cut out from the deck and use it to make a cap that will cover the slot. Once painted the same color as the deck I suspect the cap and slot will not be noticeable.

I'll start working on the cap next weekend. Then, before getting involved in any painting, I'll do a survey inside the cockpit of Spartina to identify areas that need to be sanded, primed and repainted.

Above is a photo of the place where the anchor bucket rests (or slides around when heeled over). You can see that it and the small rail just aft are well worn. There are a handful of places with wear like that including areas on the sole of the aft cockpit and the edges of the seats. I'll identify those places and sand them down. I may not get around to priming and painting until February when we get our first warm days of the winter.

I'm not a woodworker, but I enjoyed the smell of sawdust today.

steve

thinking out loud

2011-12-11T17:11:00.000-05:00

The Spring trip? Just thinking about it. Maybe a counter-clockwise trip from Hobucken to Cape Lookout to Ocracoke or Wysocking Bay or Belhaven.

I'll be the first to admit I spend way too much time planning. But planning, in my case, is daydreaming with a few facts thrown in. Can you daydream too much?

steve

a fresh look

2011-12-11T11:53:00.000-05:00

A few more photos from Ocracoke.

steve

York River

2011-12-09T15:28:00.000-05:00

I was out near the York River for work today. Chilling breezes now and then reminded me that winter is not too far away.

steve

a free pass

2011-12-07T21:15:00.005-05:00

Preparing for last Fall's sail on Tangier Sound I sent an application form and check to Somers Cove Marina for a year round pass to their boat ramp. I did not need the pass for a year's use of the ramp, only a week's use. But it is an excellent ramp with a safe secure parking area, well worth the $35.00.

A few weeks later I noticed I had not yet received my pass in the mail. I called the marina office, they said they had no record of receiving the check and application. The check had not cleared my account, so no problem. I would simply buy a pass in person when I arrived at the ramp.

The day before leaving on the Fall trip I received an envelope from Somers Cove with a 2011 pass and a letter. My check and application had been found, according to an administrative assistant, tucked away in the office safe. To make up for the inconvenience, of which there was none on my part, they were also sending me a 2012 pass, free of charge. I think I will use it.

Walkabout

Work and family schedules are starting to come into focus for 2012, which means the sailing plans are starting to fill in too. For a Spring walkabout trip - a four or five day trip - I might well use the free Somers Cove pass and return to Tangier Sound. Somers Cove Marina, located in Crisfield, Md., offers easy access to some of my favorite sailing areas. Tangier Island, Smith Island, Deal Island, South Marsh Island are all within easy reach. I have visited them all before, but there is always more to see. Plus the fishing ought to be fairly decent in early May. That's me, above, a photograph Bruce shot as we rigged Spartina in the parking lot at Somers Cove on Day One of the Crab House 150.

Spring/Early Summer

I've been wanting to get back to Cape Lookout ever since Bruce, Paul, Dawn and I visited it in June of 2010 on Days 5 and 6 of the Tag Team trip. It was a beautiful area lined by the white sand of Cape Lookout Bight with warm clear water. It felt very tropical, very much "out there". On our last trip we arrived at the bight midday after a sail down Core Sound, then left early the next day bound for Beaufort. It was too short of a stay. I would not mind going back and spending a day or two down there. And maybe that is what I will do for the Spring trip, an eight or nine day trip maybe out of Hobucken down the ICW to Beaufort, over to Cape Lookout and then up Core Sound to Cedar Island or maybe Ocrocoke.
I am not sure of Bruce's schedule. He may join me, or this could be a solo trip. We'll see. But I have mention to Paul and Dawn the idea of crossing paths with them at Cape Lookout, it would be great to see the cat ketch rig of Dawn Patrol coming through Barden Inlet.

Fall

As for Fall, Bruce and I had a good discussion about our trip over the top of the Delmarva Peninsula. We agreed on a starting place of Rock Hall (MaryLou, we've got some questions for you) with a goal of reaching Ocean City. And we also both leaned towards a sail down the Jersey coast of Delaware Bay with a visit to Cape May thrown in. There is much more to do in the way of research, but that is what winter is for.

Those are the plans, or at least the thoughts for plans, right now. It gives me something to look forward to as sit in my kitchen and listen to the wind and rain of a coming cold front.

steve

a recipe

2011-12-05T21:55:00.000-05:00

Put a couple of Sewansecott oysters on the gas grill. Wait seven or eight minutes until the shells start to open. Grab an oyster with a gloved hand, pop the shell all the way open with an oyster knife. Add a dash of hot sauce. Enjoy.

steve

planning

2011-12-04T19:28:00.002-05:00

I can’t say it too often: being on a boat, being on the water, brings a smile to my face and joy to my heart.
- Webb Chiles

I spent over an hour skyping with Bruce this afternoon about our Fall trip over the top of the Delmarva Peninsula. The multiple warnings which we have received about Delaware Bay have caught our attention. We each used Google Maps and/or Google Earth to trace the shorelines of both the Delaware and New Jersey coasts of the bay. We talked over anchorages, tides, currents and places to seek protection.

We have about nine months to research the trip. I know from past experience that we both enjoy the research and planning. We typically begin the planning when I am in San Diego for a visit - you can see we have had our discussions with both charts and beers in hand here and here. So far a trip to San Diego is not working out for me, so we used skype instead.

On another note I was searching back through the logs of our cruises. I found I had done a good job of labeling the moleskine notebooks with each cruise log, but I had failed to label the rite in the rain notepads for the particular trip. Typically we take notes during the day in the notepad, then that evening I will write a journal entry in the moleskine notebook. I now want to go through the notebooks, which often contain details that don't make it into the log, and label each one for the particular cruise. It is not as easy as I would have thought. There are lots of notes such as "reached marker 9 red at 10:15." Exactly where marker 9 is located, maybe up on Chesapeake Bay or maybe in North Carolina, is not so obvious. But I'll figure it out.

I was going to end this post with the quote from Webb Chiles, but it is such a nice quote I moved it to the top. I found it somewhere in the "lost years" of his journal, from Antigua I think. On the first weekend in months where I haven't had the chance to sail it reminded me of why I like being out on the water.

steve

my connection

2011-12-04T09:36:00.004-05:00

Well, I pawned my Smith Corona

And I went to meet my man

He hangs out down on Alvarado Street

By the Pioneer Chicken Stand

-Carmelita, by Warren Zevon

I went to meet my connection yesterday. He hangs out in a shed behind the farmer's market in Virginia Beach. When I called him he said he had about six or seven kinds of oysters on hand, with three or four more varieties expected in sometime during the day.

He goes by the name Uncle Chuck, but I think his real name might be Bob or Bill. I'm not sure. He is a true locovore who delights in bringing very fresh, very local seafood to his customers. He is an evangelist on the topic, and if you go to buy from him you had better budget in about 15 extra minutes to hear the virtues of all the shellfish he keeps in the giant 120-gallon coolers stacked around his shed.

I picked up a pint of shucked, unwashed R and C Hog Island oysters. Unwashed means they come with the oyster liquor in the jar. Those oysters were wild caught inside the barrier islands on the seaside of the Eastern Shore. And I also grabbed a handful of the Sewansecott oysters in shell, farm raised by Terry Brothers in Willis Wharf, also on the seaside of the Eastern Shore. I like the seaside oysters, they are salty and sweet having been raised in the ocean waters that pour in between the barrier islands.

The shucked oysters were enjoyed last night, having been prepared using my friend Dave's recipe. The oysters in the shell will be enjoyed as snacks over the next couple of days.

A note on the lyrics from Warren Zevon at the top of the post. He was a great writer and I find it interesting that he mentions pawning what would have been at the time one of his most treasured possessions - his Smith Corona typewriter. When Linda Ronstadt recorded the song the words were changed from the typewriter, which can be a weapon in the right hands, to a more common weapon - a gun. Smith Corona became Smith and Wesson.

I've been thinking about writing lately as I have gotten myself involved in a very small writing project. I only need a few hundred words. But of all the words out there, which are the right ones to choose?

steve

Dawn till Dusk

2011-12-02T10:37:00.005-05:00

I got up early the other morning and was rewarded with a very spectacular sunrise. I sat on my deck for about twenty minutes and watched this light show develop. Then the color faded, the sun broke the horizon and it was over. Another great San Diego day had arrived.

The entire day was warm and sunny. As late afternoon approached, the sky developed interesting patterns of wispy clouds and the sunlight had a golden cast to it. I had been busy all day running errands and working on a project at a friends house. He lives about ten miles inland from me. As I drove home I could tell from the late afternoon sky that an interesting sunset might be in my future. As soon as I got home I grabbed my camera and headed for the beach. I wasn't disappointed.

This is Crystal Pier in Pacific Beach. It is not too far from The Green Flash restaurant where Steve and I enjoy dinner when he is in town. We often see great sunsets, but not quite like this one. From dawn till dusk, I was treated to the beauty our world provides for free. It was a great day. Hope your days are just as great.

Bruce

a postcard from the Cape

2011-12-01T21:50:00.002-05:00

First of all, my thanks to BayDog for clarifying the fact that the "Jersey Shore" I mentioned in yesterday's post is not the same locale as the famous, or maybe infamous, television show "Jersey Shore". I have not seen the show, but have heard about it. The chance of meeting some of the characters would frighten me more than dealing with a steep six foot chop. Thanks, Dave, for putting my mind at ease.

I heard from several folks about the Bay, mostly in comments to this blog. I don't know how many people take time to read the comments so I will post some of the information here.

From Anonymous...

I sail the upper Delaware Bay quite a bit in Thistles and Flying Scots and it can get really hairy really fast. Some of the other members in my club have sailed the length of it in small boats as well, and their comments are essentially the same. Ship wakes have not been a huge deal for me in the past but I'm paranoid even in the best conditions. Its best to stay well clear. Also, there is a man made jetty that runs down the middle of the river south of New Castle that can be easy to miss if you're not paying attention.

From Jim

I was raised on the Dela.Bay. I've run it in a canoe and numerous times in 16-ft. Comet, so it's navigable by small boat--BUT! It's listed as one of the three most dangerous bodies of water in the US. You'll need much more pilotage than you're accustomed to in the Chesapeake. There are shoals where a shoal draft boat can run abround nearly out of sight of land, wrecks just below the surface, oyster banks, and plenty of current. On some days it can be calm, even beautiful, but it just demands attention and respect. When it's behind you, you can count it as a great new experience.

From MaryLou (who has advised me on just about every trip we have made on Chesapeake Bay)

De Gast ("Western Wind, Eastern Shore") and Schindler ("Between Two Bays and the Sea") both talk about the strength of the tidal currents and the extensive shoals but they had very different trips between the C&D and Lewes. Upon reaching Lewes, Schindler remarked, "I found the Delaware not a bad bay to sail. I expected much worse and kept looking for it. It was only at the mouth when I was bucking the tide and heavy winds, that I realized the Delaware wash showing me her ugly teeth." Schindler made 2 stops between the C&D and Lewes. On the other hand De Gast who only made one stop, said upon reaching Lewes after battling 25 knot winds and steep six-foot waves, "I had never, in such a small boat, sailed as long and as uncomfortably as I had that long afternoon."

On the map at the top I've marked Lewes, Delaware and Cape May, New Jersey, plus a couple of the stopping places used by small boat sailors - Bowers Beach and Fortescue. Which shore we sail on will depend on wind and tides. My preference, though would be to sail on the Jersey shore - no not the tv version - so we could visit Cape May. My interest in Cape May has been piqued by my friend Barry's video postcard, above. Cape May is very appealing, but it would mean at some point a sail across the mouth of Delaware Bay. We'll see.

Thanks for the information guys, thanks for the video Barry. Very nice, helpful information.

steve

the nastiest, most miserable body of water.....

2011-11-30T22:58:00.002-05:00

a few comments on a sailing anarchy forum discussion......

"In a small vessel it is the most miserable body of water on the planet."

"Many a Delaware Bay transit in my log......STAY AWAY"

"Which crappy, square, brown, 4-6ft wave would you like today ?"

"I've been in hurricanes and Gulf Stream storms, but the outright nastiest sail I ever did was a beat from the C&D to Cape May."

They are all talking about Delaware Bay. Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Bruce and I have started researching the bay as we plan our Fall cruise. That sail will be our over the top sail of the Delmarva circumnavigation. We'll start somewhere mid-Chesapeake Bay, go up to the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, then sail down Delaware Bay to somewhere around Lewes, Del. or Ocean City, Maryland. We've got a skype session scheduled in the next couple of weeks so we can talk about our plans.

Much of the research we need to do on Delaware Bay has already been done for us by my friend Barry who transited both the C and D Canal and Delaware Bay just a few weeks ago. Barry shows that the Delaware is a bay that is wide open to the full of the energy of the ocean. Take all that energy and combine it with the wakes from enormous commercial ships, crosswinds and strong tides -- the bay ends up being a very uncomfortable body of water. You can read Barry's detailed description of the bay, along with his interesting adventure on a schooner that lost power in the shipping channel at night, in his post called Danger on the Delaware. Enjoy!

Barry also showed this topographic image. It looks to me, at best, uninviting, and, at worst, just plain scary. It is obvious how the waves come up from the Atlantic and funnel from the wide mouth into the narrow bay. I can just see the waves criss crossing the bay in a confused mess.

Reading all this was not fun, but one of the things I kept in mind - and Barry mentioned the very same thought in an email - is that much of what we are reading about Delaware Bay comes from keel boats that need to stay in the shipping channel that runs up the middle of the bay. Could the bay be a little bit different for a small boat with a centerboard that could skirt along the edges of the bay, either the Delaware coast to the south or the New Jersey shore to the north? While thinking about this I realized that I had three descriptions of small boat sailing on the bay right here on my bookshelf.

I found my copy of Frank Dye's Sailing to the Edge of Fear, his book about sailing up the east coast in a 15' 10" Wayfarer Dinghy. Here are some of his comments.....

"As soon as I enter Delaware Bay from the C & D Canal I feel happy as it has a difficult and more challenging feel, much like the North Sea and it is pleasant to work the tides, instead of the softer and easier Chesapeake Bay. Certainly for a Wayfarer dinghy with only an eight inch draft, it is a fine cruising ground with many secretive little creeks invisible until almost aground in the marsh."

Okay, so more challenging than Chesapeake Bay, yet suitable for a small boat. From dates in his book it appears that he took two days to sail down the bay. He did not have an outboard on his boat.

Then there is a description by Lee Hughes in his book The Biggest Boat I Could Afford. Hughes was sailing the same boat as Dye - not just the same design but literally the same boat which he bought from Dye. Hughes did add an outboard for his trip.

He talks about a thick fog for much of the day, motoring along with the tide at eight knots past freighters making their way upstream. He anchors at the end of the day in a little creek only to find that the rushing tide will leave him on the muddy creek bottom. Then has problems trying to motor out of the creek. The next morning, again in a thick fog, he motors to Cape May.

Hughes ran the length of the Bay also in two days, dealing with thick fog much of the time. His trip was in the Spring, ours will be in the Fall. He, like Dye, sailed closer to the Jersey Shore. And just about all of his trip was made with the outboard.

And finally there is the description by Washington Tuttle who sailed a catboat around the Delmarva Peninsula. I have written about him before and he is, in fact, the inspiration for our own circumnavigation. He says...

"I lucked into a helping tide and was soon into the Delaware. Soon a giant cargo ship came up the Bay and I moved a hundred yards away so as not to threaten him. My centerboard touched the bottom. No wonder the water can be rough in the Delaware. There were threatening clouds over the Jersey Shore so I kept a sharp lookout for inlets. The sun and the breeze were strong. I found an inlet in the marsh."

Tut did the trip, like Dye and Hughes, in two days, though he went along the Delaware shore. His trip was in late August or early September. I can well imagine seeing threatening clouds that time of year. But his trip, like Dye's and Hughes, worked out just fine.

So what to make of all this? It sounds like it could be a different kind of sailing, maybe even a little adventure. Plan on two days for that part of the journey, maybe throw in a third day in case of bad weather. I think we can do it. We need to look into both the Jersey and Delaware Shore's, being ready to go either route depending on weather. And if we take the Jersey Shore, then we need to think about crossing the mouth of Delaware Bay to reach Lewes. But more on all that later. This, for the purposes of our research, is a start.

Thanks very much to Barry, Frank Dye, Lee Hughes and Washington Tuttle for sharing their experiences. It is much appreciated.

steve

the last sail (again)

2011-11-28T08:32:00.000-05:00

Cooler and windier than expected when I put in at the ramp Sunday morning. I motored down the eastern branch of the Elizabeth, passed beneath the bridge and raised full sail.

Just three snowbirds were anchored in Crawford Bay. They were all US boats, one from Maine, one from Delaware and the Wayward Wind out of Baltimore, below. This appeared to be a low budget boat and a low budget cruise, and I admire that for a lot of different reasons. Excuses are easy enough to find for not following a dream, money (or lack of) being a very convenient reason not to do something.

Later in the morning a few more snow birds passed through on their way south including this stout motor sailer out of Novia Scotia. Any boat that sails the waters of Atlantic Canada has to be a stout boat, and that includes at least one Pathfinder that I know of.

By late morning the wind picked up and I was sailing with a reef tucked in.

And soon after I picked up my friend Paul for the afternoon sail we put in the second reef. Breezy to say the least, but it was a warm wind out of the south that pushed the clouds away.

By mid-afternoon we were sailing under just mizzen and jib, one of my favorite sail combinations. And so the sailing season ends (really.....this time I mean it). Great sail, it was a lot of fun. Thanks for joining me, Paul.

steve

photographs from Ocracoke

2011-11-26T17:00:00.000-05:00

A few photographs from Ocracoke. I find it to be a special place.

I may have been wrong when I wrote few days ago that I was done sailing for the year. The forecast for tomorrow is perfect for a nice sail, with leftover turkey sandwiches for lunch.

steve

a morning walk

2011-11-26T10:57:00.003-05:00

I took a walk early this morning, down around the harbor to the park service boat ramps on Pamlico Sound, then on to Ocracoke Coffee Company for a glass of iced tea. I returned by way of Howard Street, the old rutted dirt lane lined by live oaks, the picket fence of the cemetery and weathered fisherman's cottages. It was a nice walk through an older part of the island that is often bypassed by visitors. The perfect way to end our visit.
We are on the ferry now bound for Hatteras Island. It has been a memorable Thanksgiving. I have to wonder if it is the beginning of a new tradition.
Steve

Bermuda of the South

2011-11-25T07:34:00.001-05:00

We saw a reproduction of an old advertising poster in a shop yesterday. The poster identified Ocracoke as "The Bermuda of the South". It listed options for getting to the island from the mainland in only a day, with all day fishing, a stay at the brand new inn and meals for about $16.00. The reproduction of the poster was priced at $20.00.

The pier to the left is where I would have tied up Spartina had I brought her. On the far side of Silver Lake, which is known to the locals as "the ditch", a ferry is leaving the docks bound for either Swan Quarter or Cedar Island. The large white building is the old Coast Guard Station, now rebuilt as being used for educational programs. To the right is a small cluster of buildings along the edge of the harbor - hotels, shps and the community store.

The wind forecast was correct, high winds yesterday and the day before. I would not have sailed. We made do with long, pleasant walks, a visit to Ocracoke Coffee Company in the morning, a glass of wine on the porch of Zillie's Island Pantry in the afternoon and, of course, a nice turkey dinner in the evening.

I hope everyone had an enjoyable Thanksgiving.

Steve

the view from here

2011-11-23T17:11:00.000-05:00

Silver Lake, just as a little squall is moving in.

steve

the ferry docks

2011-11-23T14:38:00.001-05:00

There are worse places to wait for a boat.

Steve

just like Gibbs

2011-11-23T07:54:00.003-05:00

During my sail last weekend I tied up at Waterside marina for a quick lunch. The marina is right downtown, an easy and convenient place to tie up with a $5.00 rate for one or two hour stay at their finger piers.

I motored around a very large power boat to an open slip, turning the corner to find several people associated with the power boat sitting in deck chairs on the dock. They were having a little party on that beautiful afternoon. I apologized for interrupting with the sound of my outboard. "No problem" said one man as he came over to catch my lines. "Say did you build that boat?" he asked. I told him I did, then thanked him for his help tying up.

As he returned to the gathering I could hear him tell the others that I had built Spartina. Then there was a woman's voice telling someone else about building the boat, saying I was "just like Gibbs".

I do not watch much network television so I did not understand the comment until the woman explained to her friend "he's the guy on NCIS that is always building that boat." The guy on the show, I knew from the women in my household, is Mark Harmon. My wife and daughters refer to him, apparently because of a character he played in an earlier series, as "Dicky". Yes, "Dicky". And I do recall glimpses of him in his current show working on a larger and more traditional boat than Spartina. His eccentricities for the role include working on a boat and slapping people in the back of the head.

Could we have more in common than boat building? Good looks? Maybe not. That is me above in my boat shop (garage), photographed by my daughter Grace around 2006; and below is Gibbs, or Mark Harmon, or "Dicky", as the sexiest man alive circa 1986.

So it is just boat building we have in common. And I may have him beat there. As the woman on the dock said to her friend who compared me to Gibbs, "at least he (meaning me) finished his boat."

steve

ps - Paul, don't even think of photoshopping one of your magazine covers

the last sail

2011-11-21T08:20:00.000-05:00

There was more sun, more wind and more blue skies than had been forecast yesterday. It was a great day on the water. Temperatures in the high 60's, maybe even low 70's - unheard of around here this time of year.

I sailed solo in the morning, sharing the river with a few tugs and some snowbirds heading south. Then my daughter and her boyfriend joined me for the afternoon.

The sailing season is over for me. We had hoped to take Spartina to Ocracoke for the holiday weekend, but two out of the three days will have winds in the mid-20 knot range. Below is the forecast from nearby on Hatteras Island. I had pictured a couple relaxing afternoon sails out on Silver Lake, 25 knots of wind doesn't sound relaxing to me.

That's ok. It has been a great year on the water. Since we launched for the first time this year back in March we've had a lot of great day sails on the river, plus cruises on Pamlico Sound, Chesapeake Bay and Tangier Sound. I can't complain about missing a couple of days on the water at Ocracoke. The trip to the island will be fun even without Spartina - 13 miles of beaches, a beautiful harbor and the chance to get away from it all. I'll post a few photographs when we get down there.

steve

the tease

2011-11-18T13:31:00.000-05:00

I was hanging out with some chef friends in a restaurant last night. Sea scallops as art. I did not get to try one, but boy they looked good.

There are two nice forecasts out there right now. This weekend should be in the sixties with a nice little breeze. I hope to get out for a day sail.

And above is the map for next Friday, a nice high moving right over Ocracoke - where we will be for Thanksgiving. Looks perfect. I hope the forecast holds.

steve

finding my inner bandit

2011-11-17T09:38:00.002-05:00

Who is that masked man?

Check out my newest piece of cruising gear - a UV Buff (with a redfish pattern). Pretty cool.....literally.

I've known about this sort of headgear for years, I have even seen it in use by kayakers down at Cape Lookout. But I was never interested in them. That was until the other day when I came across one in a boating catalogue. I instantly recalled a sail a few years ago from Jones Bay down Ditch Creek to the Bay River and finally back up to Middle Bay. It was a good day on the water, but a long day. The afternoon breeze kicked in, a hot dry wind from the southwest under a cloudless sky. Wind burn, sun burn. And no protection. Maybe the UV Buff was what I needed. All of a sudden it made a lot of sense.

I also recalled a photograph of Kiwibird wearing something similar. I emailed her, asking if that was a UV Buff. If so, did she recommend it? This is what she had to say...

"Yes, the UV Buff is a must. It's the simple things that make voyaging that wee bit more comfortable, and that's the Buff. So much easier to just pull it down to drink/eat, and raise back up again. Two thumbs up on this one. I know folks who buy two--one for face protection, the other for drying themselves after a wash. And it's not just the late pm sun--it's all day."

The UV buff is, in a lot of ways, my kind of gear. Lightweight, easily stowed, no moving parts and under $30 including shipping. Why not give it a try?

Will I wear it up over my face? Maybe on a hot afternoon, maybe all day. I can certainly see wearing it all day around my neck. As it is I have the collar on my shirt turned up most of the day to keep the sun off my neck. If the UV Buff keeps the sun off and helps cool by wicking away moisture, then I am all for it.

As for the pattern, I chose it because the elusive redfish (known as puppy drum here on the east coast) is one of my favorite fish. I've seen schools of them tailing (swimming just beneath the surface with their tails gently weaving back and forth out of the water) in the shallow bays of North Carolina. I say they are elusive because I can never seem to catch them. Maybe one of these days. Maybe this Spring.

steve

on the waterfront

2011-11-15T19:30:00.000-05:00

The Statsraad Lehmkuhl, the 97 year old tall ship that Norway uses to train cadets, came into the Otter Berth in Norfolk late yesterday afternoon. It was a pretty cool sight.

You can see cadets up on the yards. They were singing the traditional sea shanty known as both "The Rolling King" and "Bound for South Australia." Here are a couple of verses.

And as you wollop round Cape Horn

Heave away! Haul away!

You'll wish that you had never been born

And we're bound for South Australia

I wish I was on Australia's strand

Heave Away! Haul Away!

With a bottle of whiskey in my hand

And we're bound for South Australia

I could take some time to give you details about the ship and her history, but you can find that here. Instead I'll just show you some photographs. It was quite a sight.

steve

reflections

2011-11-14T19:04:00.001-05:00

I visited the observation deck of the cruise terminal that overlooks the Elizabeth River and Crawford Bay today. It is one of my favorite places. I have shot and shown photographs from there before. This time I looked away from the river, photographing only reflections in the plate glass windows.

A man that I once worked for told me to try different things. Don't be afraid, he said, take a chance. Go out there and fail. I wish I had understood him better.

Eventually I was no longer alone on the patio. Someone else came up to enjoy the view. Now I know what I look like when I am up there dreaming.

steve

still thinking....

2011-11-13T19:04:00.000-05:00

I'm still rolling around ideas for the mast issue, leaning away from what I mentioned yesterday, leaning towards an idea I that occurred to me, but which I had forgotten, that windy day at the ramp in Rumbley.

For the record, the Jim's - Jim, JimB and Jim Vibert - are unanimous in their recommendation of going to a tabernacle mast. I appreciate the input from you guys, plus a handful of people who contacted me directly by email. It is very nice of everyone to share their thoughts.

There is Spartina, ready to be launched in Rumbley. You can tell from the JW pennant that the wind was blowing pretty good. You cannot tell how frustrated I was about 30 minutes earlier when I could not raise the mast. After trying for a long while to lift the mast in the wind I decided to stop and think about it. Thinking did not help, but a brief lull in the wind did.

I've long been aware of the uses and benefits of a tabernacle mast. I saw it first hand on day three of the Tag Team sail with Paul and Dawn. We were passing through Dipping Vat Creek from Bonner Bay to Pamlico Sound, a narrow creek with obstacles including fishing nets and a partially raised gate (which was not visible from the satellite photos I had used for research). Bruce and I barely got past the gate, with the mast touching the upper reaches at one point before backtracking and sliding by with inches to spare. I wondered how Dawn Patrol would make it through. I turned around to see that they had simply lowered their tabernacle masts and motored through without a second thought.

Spartina's mast is a hollow bird's mouth mast with plugs at the top and bottom to deal with the pressure points. It seems to me it would be a lot of work to re-engineer the mast to accommodate a tabernacle mast. The mast would need to be cut once for the tabernacle, and possibly cut a second time to add a plug for stress above the foredeck. Should I do all that when having a tabernacle mast would have helped me just three three times in six years of sailing?

Plus there is something I like in the simple elegance of the once piece 18 foot tall mast. I tend towards simple things - simple things for simple minded, you know. You can ask Bruce about this. He has, over the years, suggested many changes, alterations and ideas to make the boat more comfortable. In just about every case I have said "I see your point but no, let's keep in simple." Bruce smiles and says "well, ok."

Paul sent me the photo above, which reminded me of a thought I had had at Rumbley while struggling with the mast. At first I mistook his photo for a tabernacle. But he explained it was a tool to guide the mast through the deck hole. That reminded me of trying to put the foot of the mast into the deck hole that windy morning and walk it forward. It did not work, there was not enough space to get the angled foot of the mast into the deck hole. But I thought that if I had just an inch or two more room it might have worked. I thought then about extending the deck hole aft a few inches, with maybe a plug/cap to fill the extra space. That would have done it.

So that is what I'm looking at now. Elongate the deck hole a few inches, a much simpler cut that the full slot, and make a cap that fits in place. Paint it white, to match the deck, and most people would not even notice it was there.

I need to think about it for a while more.

This photo is from the end of the first day of the Wet and Windless trip. I'm showing it here to remind me how much fun sailing can be, even on a trip when it seems to rain all the time.

I did not go sailing today. I rethought my plans of a dawn launch when I saw that there was another freeze warning for the night. Later in the morning, when I had the trailer hooked up, I checked the weather and saw a forecast of 30 knot gusts. I'm glad I did not go. The forecasts, by noon, were accurate. The wind was howling.

steve

hard wood, hard frost

2011-11-12T10:46:00.002-05:00

I dropped by Yukon Lumber yesterday afternoon to see what kind of wood was available and get some ideas for my off season work on Spartina. I just wanted to look and think a little bit, but my friend Alan, who works there and helped me with wood selection and advice on building Spartina, got a hold of me and started asking questions about what I needed to do and why. Soon I left with a nice thick chunk of African Mahogany.

My plan is to cut a slot in the foredeck so I can raise the mast by putting the foot of the mast in the step and walking it forward into the vertical position. You can see this kind of slot in the foredeck of the Pathfinder Cavita, above. Once raised, the bow stay and shrouds keep the mast in the proper position.

As it is now I have to raise the mast into the vertical position and lift it up and over the deck, then lower it down into the mast hole. This is fairly easy to do, as long as there is not too much wind. But three times over the last two years I have rigged or unrigged the boat when the wind was blowing in the 15 to 20 knot range. Raising the mast, with all the halyards attached, and keeping it vertical in that kind of wind is difficult. At Rumbly last year, when I was launching for my Fall sail on the bay, I had to wait 30 or 40 minutes for a lull in the wind before I could put the mast in place.

Having the slot will allow me to avoid that kind of problem.

While I do like the idea of the slot for raising the mast, I do not like the look of the gap in the foredeck. The slot on Spartina will be deeper than the one of Cavita, the mast on Spartina's yawl rig is forward of the mast position on Cavita's sloop rig. In Spartina's case the slot would be over 14 inches deep, leaving the foredeck as looking a little "unfinished."

Plus I have a sentimental attachment to that particular piece of the foredeck - that is where I pinned Dad's photograph on the day we launched Spartina. He had helped build the mast and some of pieces of the boat, but passed away before it was ready to sail. I brought along his picture for the first sail. His photograph was there just for that first sail, but I can still see the small hole left by the pin. Just seeing that tiny mark reminds me, as much of the boat does, of Dad. I don't want to get rid of the piece of wood.

What I will do with that piece of foredeck, once it is cut out, is use it as a base to build a cap that can be set in place into place once the mast is raised. It is the same idea as the cap I put on the centerboard trunk a couple of years ago. In this case I'll cut the mahogany into strips and those will be the top of the cap, finished bright and matching the nearby coaming. The cap, I think, will look nice. Plus Spartina will be easier to rig.

There was a freeze warning for last night. It is mid-November, the first hard frost of the Fall arrived on schedule this morning. Yet the forecast is very nice for the weekend - blue skies and and low 60's today, a few clouds and high 60's tomorrow with a nice southwest wind. I hope to be on the water just a little after dawn.

As the end of my sailing season approaches I'll have to rely on reports from friends like Curt, who just completed a nice cruise down in Florida. You can read his stories from the trip here. Sailing the barrier islands of Florida is on my list of things to do. Thanks, Curt, for posting about the trip.

I will also cope with the coming winter with my daily visit to TownDock.net in Oriental. Above is there a screen shot of the site from today, a beautiful image of the full moon.

The Spring cruise is looking more and more like a Carolina trip. Maybe a visit to Cape Lookout (hopefully getting there by sailing "outside" from Beaufort Inlet) and Ocracoke.

Fall will be Chesapeake Bay, the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal and Delaware Bay. I've talked to Bruce, who is doing some planning for the trip. We both concluded, separately, that Lewes, Delaware will be the end point for the trip. Now we have to walk backwards from there, in roughly 30 miles legs, to find the starting point somewhere on Chesapeake Bay.

steve

looking back, looking forward

2011-11-08T23:22:00.004-05:00

"A few photographs." I knew that after each cruise we did a post with a handful of photographs from the trip. I did not realize until today that I had used the same title for the posts after each of the three cruises this year. The photographs we put in those posts - you can see them here, here and here - are the first and maybe the most true reflections of the trip. We, in the case of a trip with Bruce, or I, when on a solo trip, typically do those posts just hours after arriving back home. Looking through the photographs we find images that connect with our memories before the memories start to fade. I went through those "photograph" posts and picked out a single image from each just to remind me of the past year.

This is the "bamboo channel"that Bruce photographed as we sailed out of Fishing Creek in late May, leaving the Honga River and entering Chesapeake Bay. I think the photograph is perfect - when I look at now the scene feels just as surreal as it did that morning.

This photograph is from September as I left Saxis on Pocomoke Sound. I love the simple colors, the quiet fish house contrasted with the thunderstorm. The night before I had spent two hours on Spartina at Tangier Island as a vicious lightning storm passed overhead. The power of a nature was fresh on my mind as I watched this storm erupting up into the sky.

And I'm a little embarrassed to choose this photograph of myself from a solo trip in early May in North Carolina. But when I look at it I see what I love about sailing small boats. Solitude, the water, a hint of evening sun on my face after a good day of sailing, a good book and the bivy set up for a good night's sleep. Dinner was over, cook gear washed and stowed, notebook filled out with details from the day's journey. When I look at it now I feel as comfortable as I did then on that evening anchored in Maw Bay.

Looking ahead in the short term. The forecast, as of now, is excellent for this coming weekend. Low 60's, clear skies. There might be a daysail in there somewhere.

A couple weeks out, we are looking at a long Thanksgiving weekend on Ocracoke Island. One of my daughters asked if I was bringing Spartina. My first reaction was "no." But now that I think about it, why not? I'll watch the weather and if it looks half decent I might bring the boat along. What could be better than a Fall sail on Silver Lake? A Fall sail, with the daughters aboard Spartina, on Silver Lake. Above is the pier in front of the place we have rented for the weekend. Can't you just picture Spartina tied alongside? I can.

Early December, a three day weekend, time to start the off-season maintenance.

Winter. Then Spring.

Somehow, through a clerical error in Crisfield, I'll be receiving a free year pass to the ramp at Somers Cove. My application and check for this year's pass was briefly lost at the marina office. It was soon found and I received my pass in time for the Fall trip. There was no inconvenience to me, yet I am told I will receive the new pass early next year. I might as well use it.

I've been fortunate enough the last couple of years to combine a long weekend with a couple of comp days for a five day solo trip. If it works out it the Spring I would like to do a short trip on Tangier Sound while the striper are still schooling in the open water. We'll see. On my sail behind Cedar Island, just off of Tangier Sound, I passed by a couple of marshes that would make for beautiful anchorages. You can see them on either side of my track, below. To the west is The Prong, to the east is Fishing Ditch. Both looked peaceful, quiet and very well protected. Early May?

And a week-long sail in late May or early June? North Carolina? I did 16 days on Chesapeake Bay this past year. Yes, I think North Carolina.

Early Fall we are planning the "over the top sail" as we work our way around the Delmarva Peninsula. Starting and stopping places are not quite certain, but we'll figure it out. The following year we'll complete the circumnavigation with a trip down to Cape Charles and back up the Bay to Onancock.

Half the fun of sailing is sailing. The other half is thinking about it.

steve

one or maybe two sails left

2011-11-07T08:22:00.000-05:00

I got out for a beautiful day sail yesterday. Wind out of the ENE at 8 or 10 knots, light cloud cover in the morning as I launched. I put in a little later than usual, waiting to make sure the weather would be comfortable (I've had enough of cold weather on the water lately). The snow bird fleet that anchors in Crawford Bay, about a dozen or more cruisers anchor there each night this time of year, had already hauled anchor and continued on their way by the time I got out on the water.

There was as steady stream of boats coming down Town Point Reach of the Elizabeth River on their way south. Many of them had sails flying, which is unusual. Typically the cruisers are under power on this stretch of the river. But with the winds coming across the river it was perfect for having at least some canvas raised. At one point I counted six sets of sails coming down the Elizabeth, mixed in with the power boats and the usual barge/tug traffic.

I was looking around at Spartina and noticed some wear and tear. I've got some off-season maintenance ahead of me. Mostly sanding and painting, but I've also got some changes I would like to make to the hull. I'll explain those later.
I've also wondered what sort of maintenance I should be doing on the sails. The tell tales are either frayed or gone. There are a couple of stitches that have come undone in the seams. They have had a lot of use over the last six years. I bought them for a sail loft in Maine, but I suppose a local sailmaker could do a little work on them.

By the end of the sail we had brilliant blue skies. It was a great afternoon. I'll keep Spartina in sailing order for another week or two. And if the weather favors us we'll get another sail or two in before the season ends (and the work begins).

steve

spartina with the tall ships

2011-11-04T10:07:00.000-04:00

Here are a couple of photos from Ed, by way of Bill. Thanks for the photos, guys.

Spartina sailing past the bow of the Kalmar Nyckel, with the boom of Elf to the right. I really like this photo.

And left to right, Spartina (yes, that little bit of sail all the way to the left), Kalmar Nyckel, Lady Maryland, Pride of Baltimore II and Sultana.

steve

the forecast

2011-11-03T20:39:00.001-04:00

I stopped by Waterside Marina on the way to work this morning. It was the beginning of a beautiful day. Snowbirds were tied up in the marina and anchored on the far side of the Elizabeth River in Crawford Bay, all of them taking a break from their journey south.

I had been thinking that Chestertown would be the end of my sailing season. I now see that the forecast for this weekend is very nice. Maybe I've got a week or two of sailing to go.

steve

if only every day was like Sunday

2011-11-02T22:06:00.000-04:00

If only every day in Chestertown had been like Sunday. Rich blue skies and a fair wind. A bit on the cool side but the bright sun shining on white sails makes the day seem warmer.

Sunday was perfect. I had been hoping for too much when I had imagined every day would be like that. Each trip out on the water means taking a chance on weather. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't.

There is the skipjack Sigsbee spreading her canvas with a full load of passengers aboard for the Sunday morning sail.

I did have some nice sailing earlier in the trip. Below is a photo from Friday morning, sailing back in from my anchorage downriver to the marina in Chestertown.

And there are the tall ships tied up along the waterfront. From left to right you can see the A.J. Meerwald, Lady Maryland, Sultana and the Kalmar Nyckel. The Pride of Baltimore II is in there also, but she is difficult to pick out.

Fall sailing, like Fall colors, can be the best.

On Friday afternoon I had a two hour sail with grey skies moving in. I met Brent aboard his Core Sound 20 Active Imagination. He was spending the weekend exploring the Chester River. I recognized the boat's design by her classic cat ketch rig. A beautiful boat that was very well sailed.

And here is a steel-hulled seagoing boat from Holland. The owner said he and his girlfriend had sailed in from Bermuda a couple of weeks earlier. "When did you start your cruise from Holland?" I asked. Six years earlier was the reply.

There is the Sultana, the reason for the weekend, setting sail with passengers on board Friday afternoon.

She was followed out by the Kalmar Nyckel.

But Sunday was the best. I was up just after dawn. I carried a load of gear to the car and met my friend Seth as he was walking down to the dock. He's mid-build on his own Pathfinder up in the mountains of Virginia. We had met once before and corresponded quite a bit since. He hopped on board for an early morning brisk sail. He had the tiller most of the time, I sat up forward and enjoyed life.

Below is the Howard Blackburn setting sail that morning.

Just as I dropped Seth off at the docks my other friend Bill showed up. We've been in touch for a while over the internet but had never met in person. It was good to put a face and a voice to the name. And of course he jumped on board for a sail. It was good to see some old friends and make some new ones.

Sunday was the day I had been looking for - great weather, the chance to sail with the tall ships, the chance to sail with some friends. And the chance, too, to check out some classic small boats like the J.W. Wagner, below. (Don't worry, Bay Dog, I took some of the folks in charge over to look at her stern, just so they would get the name right next time.)

Sunday was perfect. And somehow it made it all - the wind and the rain and the sleet - worthwhile. I learned something about Spartina, I learned something about myself.

Below is a slightly different version of a photograph I posted a few days ago, the shadow of Spartina's yawl rig on the side of Kalmar Nyckel. This is my favorite photograph from the long weekend. It will remind me for a long time to come of the chance to sail with the tall ships, the chance to sail with friends and the chance to be out on the water on a beautiful Fall day.

Life is short. Enjoy it while you can.

steve

before the weather hit

2011-11-01T10:00:00.000-04:00

Drew from the Sultana Project forwarded this photograph of Spartina, made by photographer Michael Wooton. Thanks, Drew and Michael.

I'm guessing Michael shot the photograph Friday afternoon before the weather arrived. I am, after all, smiling.

steve

it was a dark and dreary night

2011-10-31T20:27:00.002-04:00

It was really three dark and dreary nights in Chestertown. I anchored out two of the nights, stayed tied to the dock for the third night. Squalls, rain, sleet, close to freezing temperatures and high winds.

Early in the evening and again early in the morning I would light a small candle in a small brass chimney. It certainly did not warm up the boom tent, but the glow of the tiny flame seemed to make the evenings and mornings more comfortable.

The first night anchored out was cool and grey, with a fast moving squall that came through just after I anchored near the mouth of Radcliffe Creek just a few hundred yards down the shore from Chestertown. That was the nicest of the evenings.

The second evening, after the fireworks, the rain began to fall. Rain, and eventually a wet snow and then sleet, continued to fall for about the next thirty hours. High winds filled in later that evening. In the early morning hours severe gusts caused our anchors - a navy style anchor and a mushroom anchor - to break free from the muddy bottom. Spartina was pushed across the mouth of the creek.

I woke up to find us 50 yards from the riprap-lined shore, a quick look at landmarks showed we were moving steadily closer to the rocks. I put out a second anchor, jammed the sleeping gear and boom tent under the foredeck and motored away under full throttle, all in a pouring, cold rain. It was not a fun morning.

I motored up the river in the lee of the marina docks. At one point I turned our onto the main river and was quickly turned back by waves and wind, I could not keep the bow pointed into the wind. I did get to a dock on the west end of marina and was able to tie up and regroup there.

The last night I spent tied to the dock listening to the sleet bounce off the boom tent. I found myself warm and comfortable inside my sleeping bag inside the bivy under the boom tent. I had a good night's sleep, waking up now and then to adjust the dock lines to deal with an unusually high tide. There was ice on the tent in the morning.

I give a lot of credit to my new icebreaker thermals and the exped air pillow for keeping me comfortable at night. My thanks to Kiwibird for the advice on both.

The last morning I was glad look out the back of the tent to see blue skies. It was about time.

steve

a few photographs from Chestertown

2011-10-30T19:29:00.002-04:00

I woke up this morning with ice on the boom tent, both inside and out. Outside, from the snow, sleet, freezing rain. Inside, from my breath condensing under the tent in the cold air. It was not the weekend that I, or anybody else, expected. I heard the terms nor'easter, gale and winter storm used.

It was interesting, fun, a little different. I saw some good friends, made some new ones. More later.

steve

Weather comma miserable

2011-10-29T11:02:00.000-04:00

Heavy rain for the last 12 hours. But it is the terrific wind that is the problem. Anchored out for a warm, comfortable night. High winds in the early morning had us dragging anchor towards a rocky shore. Huge waves and wind on the river. Finally got back to the nearest dock.

Steve

Sailing with the tall ships

2011-10-28T15:56:00.000-04:00

A very nice sail this afternoon as the tall ships cast off for their passenger cruises. Steve

Breezy

2011-10-28T10:26:00.001-04:00

Sunny and cool with a nice breeze. Had a nice sail in from my anchorage at daybreak. I'll get back on the water once the day warms up a little more. Steve

Chestertown

2011-10-27T16:31:00.000-04:00

Rigged in the rain. Skies are getting lighter. Might go for a sail.

threading the needle

2011-10-26T19:39:00.001-04:00

I started packing the jeep tonight, will go over the modified checklist and tuck away the rest of the gear tomorrow morning. I plan to take it easy, leaving here after the morning rush hour for the 200-plus mile drive to Chestertown. I would like to have Spartina in the water by mid-afternoon.

I'll try to do some posts over the weekend with my cell phone. I can't wait to sail with, or at least near, the tall ships.

I wondered last night about getting Spartina away the boat ramp in Chestertown. The ramp is at the bottom of the drawing above and you can see how the bowsprits of Pride of Baltimore II and the A.J. Meerwald nearly overlap. In fact there are warnings on the guidelines for the weekend about dealing with the narrow spaces between the tall ships. I checked the schedules, and if I read it correctly, the Pride will not be arriving until Friday. There won't be any problem when I put it tomorrow. But Sunday when I pull out? We'll see if I have to thread my way through the schooners. Maybe Spartina's 18' tall main will slide right beneath the bowsprit of the Pride. As the woman who ran the old riverside marina in Elizabeth City, N.C. told me when I was concerned about having the proper space around my boat, "Son, your boat just ain't that big."

steve

a bend in the river

2011-10-24T08:20:00.000-04:00

Downrigging Weekend is just a few days away and I need to start packing for the trip. I am looking forward to spending time on the Chestertown waterfront and exploring a very nice, historical town.

Bruce and I were up there last May, sailing up the beautiful Chester River on the ninth day of our Spring cruise. The photo above is from sail up the river, heading from our last anchorage on Reed Creek to Rolph's Wharf. The wind was perfect that day and it was a treat to sail up the reaches of the river, following the contours of the water as she curved port and starboard through the farmlands.

We explored the old colonial town briefly, a nice tour from our friends MaryLou and Fred. The old brick buildings downtown recall Chestertown's history of being a major port in colonial days. It still surprises me to think about how ships in the 1700's navigated their way up the narrow, winding and very pretty river. Our sail from Reed Creek to Chestertown was about 17 nautical miles. How tall ships would make it up river with less than cooperative winds and against a surprisingly strong running tide I don't know. Maybe I can learn something about that when I up there.

I do know that the Kalmar Nyckel just made the run up the river, arriving yesterday. The trip was most likely courtesy of her auxiliary engines.

The replica ship of a vessel from the 1600's, the state ship of Delaware will be tied up just a few yards from Spartina's slip. Because of a chance meeting on the water years ago the Kalmar Nyckel will always have a special place in my heart. On the day I first launched Spartina, her bow still coated with champagne, my brother Mike and I sailed down the Elizabeth River to find the Nyckel with all her sails and flags flying in a very nice breeze. Below is a photograph from that morning. I smile when I see the brand new bright, white sheets on Spartina (they are not so white anymore). At the time I knew the ship was heading to a festival in Hampton, but I liked to imagine that the tall ship was there to welcome Spartina to the river.

I've started packing gear for the trip and I'm just now realizing that I will have to adjust my packing from that of a typical cruise. There will be at least two nights sleeping aboard, with some sailing each day. I won't need the cook kit, but I will need the sleeping gear. Thermal gear and clothes to layer will be important as it could get chilly. I'll take my fisherman boots, which fit perfectly with heavy wool socks. I won't need charts, but I will need the boom tent in case of rain. I guess my project for the day will be sorting through the equipment, figuring out what I need to bring, what I should leave behind. I will also have the luxury of my jeep parked a few blocks away, I can bring extra gear and leave it stored in the jeep should I need it.

The weather forecast for the weekend seems to be improving. A few days ago the forecast was for cold, rainy, windy weather. Now I see the chance of rain is decreasing (depending on which forecast I look at), the temperatures are warming and the winds should be moderate to light. Let's hope the trend continues.

steve

pillow talk

2011-10-22T19:39:00.000-04:00

I received my new REI Exped Air Pillow in the mail today. That is the new inflatable pillow on the right, below, and my old traditional pillow, bought from Campmor six or seven years ago, on the left. The old pillow was old and did not seem to give much support. Or maybe it is the same, and it is just me that is older and maybe being older I need more support. In either case I thought I could use something new for sleep gear.

Whenever it comes to equipment I check with my friend Kiwibird (whom I have never met in person but we have exchanged emails for the last couple of years about equipment and sailing grounds). She is a self-professed gear head and has given me advice on everything from SPOTs to sandmats to thermal gear. I emailed her asking about pillows, she replied with the suggestion of the Exped. That is Kristen, below, somewhere around the Pamlico River. I have taken lots of advice from her over the years but I have not quite gone the full "bandit" look with the scarf. With all the exposure to the sun out on the water it is not a bad way to go. Give me a couple of years and I'll probably be there.

Kristen said the one problem with the Exped is that when deflated it is so small it might be easily lost. There is the old pillow in the stuff sac on the left and the new Exped on the right. She is right. Deflated, the inflatable pillow is tiny.

It takes about two breaths to inflate the pillow. Opening a valve quickly deflates it. My guess is that I will simply store the deflated pillow inside inside my rolled up bivy. We'll see. In any case it is much smaller and, I suspect, will be much more comfortable to use that the old pillow. Cost, with shipping, was a little over $40. A good night's sleep is well worth a few bucks to me.

Always on the lookout for gear, and particularly safety gear, Kiwibird also told me about the new Escape Bivvy. This is a new (not available until early next year) breathable, body heat reflective shelter. Perfect I imagine for the hypothermia kit. List price is $50. Should you need it, it would be worth every dime. I'll add one to the kit in the Spring.

A nice pillow for comfort, a bivvy for safety. Thanks for the advice, Kristen.

steve

Small Things

2011-10-20T23:16:00.004-04:00

Sometimes as Steve and I relax aboard Spartina and time slows down, you begin to notice the beauty in small things around you that you hadn't noticed before. These two shots were from our last Chesapeake cruise together. I really like these images. Spartina really is a special boat.

Bruce

eight below Pride, just above Sultana

2011-10-20T21:41:00.003-04:00

Take a look at the Sultana Projects Downrigging Weekend website and you'll see a list of ships and boats that will be on display on the Chestertown waterfront. On the list of 63 watercraft, eight slots below The Pride of Baltimore II, coming in at 157 feet in length, and just one above Sultana, at a very stout looking 97 feet, you will find Spartina. How did we ever find ourselves in such wonderful company? I don't know.

But I do kind of know. It goes back to day nine of the Back to the Islands sail. Bruce and I were sailing up past Rolph's Wharf towards Chestertown when we saw the Sultana coming around the bend. As she raised canvas we sailed alongside the beautiful ship, made some photographs and enjoyed her company. After a while we started to tack away, but turned back when the captain hailed us. We exchanged greeting on the water that afternoon, then met the man who hailed us, Drew McMullen, later that evening on the waterfront. Drew is the president of the Sultana Projects. He gave us a tour of the Sultana, then suggested that I might consider bringing Spartina up to Chestertown for the Downrigging Weekend. At the time I had never heard of the event. "Give it some thought" he said.

I am not much of a social sailor. I've said more than once that I built Spartina so I could get the hell away from everyone. If I see a crowd I tend to head the other way. If I see a few boats, I'll sail close enough to get a good look, wave and then sail away. Solitude I enjoy. Socializing, not so much.

But for some reason I am very excited about this weekend event. Part of it is the chance to sail with the tall ships like The Pride of Baltimroe or The Lady Maryland or the A.J. Meerwald, above. There will be about half a dozen tall ships on the Chestertown waterfront, they'll will be out sailing at least a few times over the weekend. Catching the breeze alongside a tall ship on the gentle bend of the Chester River, the old brick buildings of the colonial town on the nearby shore. That does sound like fun.

Or maybe it is the classic Chesapeake Bay boats that are also part of the show. Smith Island skiffs, restored oyster buy boats and a couple of skipjacks with their huge spread of canvas, all gleaming bright white on a crisp Autumn day. Who would not want to be on water with those icons of Chesapeake Bay?

Or maybe it is the chance to listen to the Eastport Oyster Boys with a cup of hot cocoa, or maybe a cold beer, in my hands. Or maybe becasue I might see my friends MaryLou, Fred, Seth and Drew. I don't really know. For whatever reason, or maybe for all of those reasons, I'll head up into a crowd of boats and a crowd of people.

But I will have an escape nearby. It will be Spartina. She will be tied up at a nice slip, a choice spot if you ask me, on the Cannon Street pier. The same pier as a buy boat, a skipjack and the tall ship Kalmar Nyckel. Very nice company. And should things get a bit too, uh, crowded, I can always slip the lines, drift out onto the river and enjoy the crowd from a distance.

It will be a fun weekend. I can't wait. The dates are October 27 through the 30th. Drop by and say hi.

steve

back home

2011-10-19T21:50:00.000-04:00

Back home after a fascinating, fun and emotional trip to the Midwest. Checking my email between flights received an information packet from the Sultana Projects about their Downrigging Weekend.

I was very pleased to see Spartina's dockage at the Cannon Street Pier Slips. The sailing season is almost over. This will be a nice way to end it.

steve

Who will give me a bid?

2011-10-18T12:59:00.002-04:00

It was a cold, windy day. I could never understand what the auctioneer was saying. I guess it worked out ok. Sad to see the land leave the family after 160 or so years, but it was the best thing to do.

Steve

Auction Day

2011-10-18T10:34:00.001-04:00

A glass of wine

2011-10-17T13:57:00.001-04:00

Les bourgeois Vineyards on the river bluff, a thunderstorm in the distance.

A visit to the Midwest

2011-10-17T12:58:00.001-04:00

The Missouri River

schooners and friends

2011-10-15T16:28:00.000-04:00

The fleet of schooners from The Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race started trickling into Portsmouth yesterday evening after a long, long sail down the bay. The winds were strong and on the nose. Schooners do not sail well into the wind. Of the 39 boats that left the dock at Fell's Point in Baltimore just 15 made it to Portsmouth. Others stopped at various anchorages and marinas along the way. I asked one captain what the race was like. "Long. Wind on the nose," he said. "A trial of boats and men."

I was very glad to see my friend Barry on the waterfront. We had met in person just once and very briefly, but we've been in touch over the internet the past couple of years. It was fun to sit down and talk in person. We've got a lot in common between boats, a couple of daughters each in college and an interest in the communication field. Plus he is a great photographer, very skilled boat builder and wonderful writer. Check out the work on his site.

Later on we ran into another friend, Mike, at right below. I had met Mike at the Mid-Atlantic Small Craft Festival sail in on the Wye River a few years ago. He has a melonseed and does quite a bit of cruising with it on Chesapeake Bay. We've compared notes and found that we've sailed the same areas and visited the same anchorages on Tangier Sound. It was a treat to see both the schooners and some friends.

steve

an unscheduled stop, updated

2011-10-14T12:25:00.001-04:00

Update from Barry: After beating into headwinds for 24 hours, with stronger headwinds on the way, they realized that they would not make it to Portsmouth by the finish deadline. (This same situation might apply to other schooners in the race.) They put in at Solomons Island, will drive down to Portsmouth for the party (can't miss that) and then return to the boat. I hope to catch up with Barry on the Portsmouth waterfront tomorrow.

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Quintessence seems to be heading for Solomons Island near the mouth of the Patuxent River. That is her track below. It looks like more than a few schooners have stopped along the way at various marinas. Hopefully Barry will get a chance to update his site and let us know what is going on.

I was on board the Norfolk Rebel for a schooner race a few years ago when we made a similar unscheduled stop at Solomons Island for maintenance. I had the good fortune to be aboard the tugantine (a sail powered tugboat) as the guest of owner and race founder Lane Briggs, below center. It was an interesting trip, no wind to start with and then a ride so rough I had to brace my shoulders in the bunk to keep from falling out.

I remember a hot, windless afternoon when they talked about putting out the anchor so we would not drift back to the north. I remember pounding through the waves and the spray coming up over the bow. And I remember Lane inviting me into the galley for an early morning "spot o' tea" as he called it. (I usually don't drink rum before 9 a.m.)

It was an honor to sail with Lane. It was his last race, he passed away the following winter. But his good works and spirit live on.

steve

slow going

2011-10-14T09:06:00.000-04:00

It appears to be slow going for the Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race. The photo below is from the Virginia (which is not in this year's race) a few years ago as we motored up the Elizabeth River after finishing the race in pre-dawn hours.

This year, well after dawn, most of the fleet has not yet made it to the Potomac River entrance. A few boats have made it farther south than that. Those are the high tech schooners, plus the Norfolk Rebel which must be motoring to make it to the Portsmouth waterfront to greet the other boats.

I'll keep an eye on the tracking page and hope to be in Portsmouth when the schooners start to arrive.

steve

the weather tonight

2011-10-13T21:04:00.001-04:00

Part of the same batch of moist air that the schooners are dealing with......

notes on the cruise, a day sail, schooners

2011-10-13T20:48:00.001-04:00

This was a different sort of trip for me. More rain and less wind than I have ever experienced. It certainly wasn't the blue skies and crisp winds I had been thinking about all summer. I cannot complain. We've had so many trips with great wind and weather that I knew things had to even out. Regression to the mean I have heard it called.

Wind has never been in doubt on earlier cruises. It was just a question of how much and which direction. On this last trip a forecast of 5 mph (or less) was common. There was maybe a day or two of 10 mph, but even that wind was inconsistent. I would catch a good breeze now and then, sailing along at somewhere between 4.5 and 6 knots, then watch the wind fall off or just plain disappear. I did use the outboard more on this trip than any other, to the point that I worried about using all of my fuel. It was just that kind of trip.

Rain has never been in doubt on earlier cruises. But rain was the exception, not the rule. We've had a couple of rainy nights here and there, afternoon thunderstorms and morning drizzle. But we could count on, for the most part, blue skies. The rain would come and go, it was just a matter of slipping on the foul weather gear while the squall moved through. I remember one Pamlico Sound cruise with Bruce when we had a squall in the morning, three storms around us in the afternoon and a brief rain shower after dinner. All that, but with blue skies in between. This trip moisture in the form of rain, thunderstorms and fog was near constant. The first four days it were particularly grey - not my favorite weather.

The good news is that Bruce and I have developed enough techniques to keep us, and our gear, dry. We learned decades ago on a camping trip that once you are soaked to the bone you are done. (I will always remember driving down from the mountains of southern California in the '64 VW bus. I was wearing the only dry piece of clothing I could find, an old flight suit of my Dad's that had been tucked in the tool box, and Bruce was wrapped in a packing blanket. We had the heater on full blast, then turned on the radio to hear that Elvis died. What a night.)

I stayed dry on this trip while sailing and while sleeping. The gear stayed dry. There were signs of moisture inside my camera lens, inside the gps and inside the binoculars. But I could deal with that as long as I was dry.

A couple of days into the trip I wondered "What am I doing out here." The weather forecast made it clear that there would be plenty of rain and not much wind. But once I got into a routine, once I figured out how to cope, I was fine. It was a bit of a challenge, but I enjoyed dealing with the challenge. It was not was I had expected or planned on, but it was time on the water, sailing, relaxing, catching a few fish and getting away from it all.

On the first day out of Crisfield, sailing in the rain under heavy clouds, I wondered why I was out there. On the last day, after pulling out Spartina and starting home, I wished I was still out there.

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I went out for a day sail with my neighbor Jim last weekend. Decent wind, a very comfortable temperature and nice blue skies. Jim is mid-build on a Navigator. I look forward to the day when it is finished and we can sail side by side.

Heading over to Crawford Bay we saw the schooner Spirit of Independence making ready for sail. We both knew that she was heading north to Baltimore for the Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race. It is that time of year. We sailed by them at the dock and exchanged greetings, then sailed by them again to give them our good wishes.

Left behind on the dock was Whitney, a friend of Jim's. If not for an injury she would have joined the Pride of Baltimore II for the schooner race. She has crewed on a few tall ships including the Spirit of Independence, the Gazela and the Manitou. Watching one tall ship sail away can't be any fun, the same for being left off the crew for another tall ship. Would she at least like to join us for a sail? "That's not a question you need to ask" she said as she hopped aboard.

Her sailing skills were obvious as she took the tiller and sailed Spartina comfortably and confidently. The tacked across the river in a light and shifting breeze. After having picked her up on the Portsmouth side of the river we dropped her off on the Norfolk side. There are quicker ways to cross the river, but there is not a better way than by sail on a pretty morning. Thanks for joining us, Whitney.

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I'm using the schooner tracker to follow Quintessence in the race down the Bay. My friend Barry is crewing on her. I've met Barry just once, very briefly, a couple of years ago. But we have stayed in touch by email since. I look forward to seeing him when the schooner arrives on the Portsmouth waterfront sometime tomorrow.

From this afternoon's tracking map it seems to have been a slow start to the race. Winds are light and there is some fog and rain. (Sounds a lot like my week of sailing.)

Later this evening winds will pick up and they should have a great sail, a great race, down the Bay. I'll be up early to check on their progress. To see some great photographs of the race check on Barry's site.

steve

the race is on

2011-10-13T10:30:00.000-04:00

Well, not quite. But the schooners of The Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race have left Fell's Point in Baltimore and are working their way to the starting line off of Annapolis.

The firing of cannons will mark the start of the race around 1:30 this afternoon. For the first time, I believe, there will be live tracking of all the schooners as they come down the bay. You can see that here.

More on this later.

steve

day seven

2011-10-12T20:07:00.000-04:00

Dawn comes with clear skies and a crisp SW wind. The nicest morning of the trip, also the last morning of the trip. Today's forecast is for clear skies (finally) and a nice breeze. Tomorrow calls for high winds and rain. It is a good day to get back to the ramp.

I sail off anchor at 7:30, leaving the cove under mizzen and jib. Out on the Little Annemessex River I raise the full main. Crisfield is just a couple of miles to the NE. The breeze carries me past Long Point where I turn towards the condos on the horizon, the wind just right for sailing wing and wing.

A few deadrises are motoring about the river, some headed towards Smith Islands and others on their way to crab pots in the shallows on either side of the Annemessex. A workboat crosses my bow just outside the narrow entrance to Somers Cove. I notice a man in a skiff pushing a small barge towards Somers Cove as I head wing and wing between the condo to port and the crab house to starboard. Had I seen him earlier I would have rounded up and let him go through first. As it is he idles behind Spartina while we catch winds swirling between the buildings. Once through the entrance I turn off to starboard to let him motor past me. Then I head for the dock. We tie up just after 8 a.m.

steve

For the trip....

distance sailed 141 nautical miles, 162 statute miles

moving time 46 hours

moving average 3.1 knots

day six

2011-10-11T20:39:00.001-04:00

Morning comes grey with a breeze out of the SW. Weather radio reports a 10 mph wind with two foot chop on Tangier Sound. I sail off anchor under mizzen and jib, raise the main outside of Old House Cove.

Dark clouds hover above Spartina, but blue skies out over the sound hint of a nice sail to Smith Island. It is choppy in the shallows near Great Point at the mouth of the Little Annemessex River. It begins to rain. I expected nothing less. I reach up and pull the hood from my foul weather jacket over my head.

Out in the sound north of Janes Island Horn the rain stops and the skies clear. A flock of seagulls are working the shoal near the marker, I suspect they are hovering over baitfish being chased by bluefish in the shallows. An easy cast into the frenzy might bring in a nice fish, but it is too early in the day. A fish towed on a stringer behind Spartina for seven or eight hours does not sound appetizing. I continue west towards Smith Island.

Half way across the sound we are in the lee of Smith Island. The wind is good, the water calm. The sun feels warm and I strip off the foul weather gear. Closer to the island I make a short tack north to get in the entrance channel to the Big Thorofare. I cut across the shallows as the channel bends around the point, the centerboard bumping the bottom. Beyond the point the Big Thorofare turns northwest and we've got the wind behind us. The marsh on either side is bright green from the rains. We sail downwind at four knots.

The wind carries us up the thorofare. I drop the sails just outside the entrance to Ewell, motor past along the waterfront and tie up at the gas station. My luck with the wind has not been the best, I need to make sure I've got plenty of fuel to get back to Crisfield. I get a gallon of gas, then motor down the waterfront to the public dock.

It is the beginning of the off-season for Smith Island. The two restaurants in Ewell are closed on weekdays. I'm disappointed. One of those restaurants is Rukes, home of the best crabcakes on Chesapeake Bay. I walk down to the grocery where they serve lunch and order a ham sandwich to go. Three young watermen are sitting at a table talking about crabbing and watching soap operas on tv. They talk about the rains and the winds that are causing the island to flood. As I wait for my sandwich the water is reaching up onto the the streets of Ewell turning the grocery store into a small island. The clerk is in the back making my sandwich, a waterman pays his bill and opens the register to make change. Another, older, waterman that talks in a high-pitched island brogue, says to no one in particular "I can't believe they are watching goddamn soap operas" and leaves.

I walk back to the public dock finding that streets that were dry an hour earlier now have almost a foot of water on them. A local comes over to help me cast off my lines, telling me I need to learn how to tie better knots. As I motor away he mentions that I can cut across the sandbars, the water flooding the streets tells him that there are a couple extra feet of water over the shallows. Out in the channel I wish I had asked him how to tie a better knot.

I head out across the flats, bypass the channel entrance with the jetties and take the short cut over the sandbars that I had avoided a few days earlier.

We sail downwind along the west coast of Martin National Wildlife Refuge until the wind fails. I round Fog Point and a light breeze fills in. We ghost along the marshes at the north end of the island at just a knot or two. I consider stopping at Back Cove for the night, but it is too early in the day. Passing Terrapin Sand Cove the afternoon breeze fills in.

Spartina makes a long SE tack towards Island Point. We make one last tack to round the point, enter the river and sail back into Old House Cove a little after five in the evening.

I beach Spartina and go for a walk, taking some photographs of the boat and the brick chimney on the point. Then we move out into the cove for the last night of the trip.

steve

distance sailed 25 nautical miles

moving time 7 hours 3 minutes

moving average 3.1 knots

day five

2011-10-10T08:32:00.003-04:00

It is dry and comfortable beneath the boom tent when I wake up at dawn. The breeze has been blowing through the vent up forward and there is not a hint of moisture in the boat. I undo the rear corner of the tent and look out over Cod Harbor to see that I did not drag anchor in the storm.

Weather radio is getting old. I've had fun but four out of five days with rain, thunderstorms and fog is not what I had been dreaming about all summer. Even the automated voice is starting to sound exasperated.....

Today, SE winds 10-15, showers and thunderstorms...

Thursday, SW winds 10-15, showers and thunderstorms...

Friday, SW winds at 10...

Saturday, NE winds 20 to 25, showers

I go over my options as I tuck away the sleeping gear. Saxis? Maybe Onancock? The sky darkens, I hear thunder to the SW. As I sail off anchor rain begins to fall. Enough is enough. Time to head home. With the SE breeze I could be back at the ramp late morning. I set the gps for Crisfield.

I leave Cod Harbor under mizzen and jib, raise the reefed main south of Port Isobel.

A few miles NE of Tangier the skies clear and the wind swings to the NW. Blue skies and a nice breeze, I feel much better. Maybe those thunderstorms will be scattered, maybe the skies will stay clear. Glancing on the chart I see that I could have a nice run to Saxis. I reset the gps, turn east towards Pocomoke Sound.

I strip off the foul weather gear. I look at my speed - five to six knots - and check the charts. I could be in Saxis by lunchtime.

The wind falls off, I motor. The wind picks up, then falls off again. And then fills in for the last stretch past Long Point and Drum Bay. I can see the fish houses and shedding tanks along the waterfront.

There are fish traps out near the entrance channel. I drop the sails and motor into the wind. The docks along the waterfront are all connected to fish houses, no place for a little sailboat. On the backside of the village is a small marina where I tie up next to the ramp. A local fisherman tells me Spartina will be fine there. He gives me directions to the restaurant - down past the shedding tanks, past the oyster house, turn left into the alley, cinderblock building.

I find the building. There is no name on it, just a small neon "open" sign glows in the window. A woman walks around the corner and goes in through a plain wooden door. I follow her. As I open the door and step inside all conversation stops. Everyone looks at me. A waterman sitting at a table turns his chair to face me. He says nothing, just stares at me.

"Can I help you?" a woman asks me. "This is a restaurant, isn't it?" I say, wondering if I walked into the wrong place.

It is a restaurant, just not the Marshtump Cafe that I had expected. That was the name of the place about a decade ago. Now it is Martha's Kitchen and that is Martha asking me what I needed. I look at the menu. Sandwiches are a dollar or two, cokes are in the fridge. French fries are cooked in a little countertop fryer. It is more like a home kitchen than a restaurant. I order the club sandwich for $2.80. White bread, some ham, cheese and I think she warmed it up in a microwave. Sitting in the plywood booth I can hear people talking about me. The waterman sits at a table and swat at flies. I eat quickly and pay my tab.

I walk through Saxis. There is an old bait shop by the pier. A sign in a yard advertises decoys for sale in a small shop. I look in the shop and see carving tools and five or six cats perched on the table and chairs. Down the road shedding tanks are full of crabs, two men sit in the shade near a building. Mounds of oyster shells line the road. An old buy boat, the wheelhouse removed from the hull, sits in a field.

I'm back on the water by 1:30, a thunderstorm towering in the distance. The southwest wind carries me pack past Drum Bay and Long Point. I set my course for Great Fox Island. The wind falls off and I motor sail west. The wind comes and goes as I cross Pocomoke Sound.

On the horizon I can see the house on Great Fox Island to the west. I turn north just as the SW wind fills in, heading towards the mouth of Broad Creek. The creek runs behind Cedar Island, connecting Pocomoke Sound to the Little Annemessex River. The southern end of the Creek is wide and well marked. I run downwind past the green markers, past a small island with a pier and a small house tucked away in the trees. To port is a nice protected cove and I think that I might want to anchor there someday.

The creek narrows and the markers disappear. I follow the main channel, now sailing wing and wing at four and a half knots. It is beautiful sailing with marsh and trees on either side. The channel branches off in a couple of places and I worry that I have left the creek. We sail through a stand of tall trees, the channel opens up and I see the river up ahead.

We sail NNW across the Annemessex River. Crisfield in to the NE, Tangier Sound is to the west. I don't need the gps to find Old House Cove, I can easily see the brick chimney that sits out on the sand spit and marks the entrance.

A little before 5 p.m. I sail into the cove, turning west to anchor behind a line of pretty dunes. A light dinner of crackers, anchovies and a cup of fruit. I fill out my notebook and notice lightning to the south and northwest. I check the weather forecast which tells me there is a chance of showers and thunderstorms overnight and again tomorrow. I set up the boom tent.

steve

distance sailed 26.7 nautical miles

moving time 7 hours 30 minutes

moving average 3.0 knots

day four

2011-10-08T19:18:00.001-04:00

I wake to a light SE wind. The fog I had noticed in the early morning hours is gone. I pack the sleeping gear, eat a quick breakfast of a granola bar and a cup of fruit. The anchor is up before the sun.

I sail south on glassy water, trying to pick out Gunbarrell Point and the entrance to Little Pungers Creek. It is lost to me somewhere in what appears to be a solid line of marsh. I look only for future reference, with this wind I'll sail new water down the west side of South Marsh Island.

The breeze is decent sailing across the mouth of Johnson Bay. As I enjoy the full sails I see them quickly turn orange. The sun is over the horizon. The wind gets better as I pass a narrow point and see Pry Cove to the SW. It is a large bay, larger than I had expected. I look at the chart to see there creeks, anchorages and islets spread around the cove. A future anchorage, I hope.

I continue south through Holland Strait. Slipping between tiny Pry Island and Sedgy Point I leave South Marsh Island behind. I've anchored there four times in the last two years, each time a pleasure.

I enter Kedges Strait at over four knots. Grey clouds move in from the SW. The water is dark and choppy, the wind swings to the east and gets stronger. The northern tip of Martin National Wildlife Refuge is two and a half miles to the SSE, Solomons Lump Lighthouse is a little closer. The sky gets darker.

At 9 a.m. I pick out the rock jetties that mark the west entrance to the Big Thorofare on Smith Island. I make a series of tacks towards the jetties, spotting just to the north a shallow entrance that could be a shortcut to the thorofare. Getting closer I see that there are sandbars across the entrance. I would have to raise the centerboard and rudder to make the shortcut. And I would most likely lose my wind to a small stand of trees just south of the inlet.

I fall off to run down the jetties, tack and then sail at five knots up the channel. The water is very shallow inside of the jetties. I drop the main and jib, drift out of the channel and feel the centerboard touch the bottom. Two cranks on the winch raises the centerboard, I start the outboard and motor directly into the wind towards Ewell. I have no plans to stop in the village that day, but the thorofare carries me right along the waterfront. At a crab house on the east side of the channel I turn to port as slip through a cut in the narrow island that sits across the channel from the Ewell. On the far side of the island I leave the channel and anchor up near the trees, clean up the boat and relax a bit.

I raise anchor and motor SE on the Big Thorofare, turning west and then south at Marker "31" on to Tyler Ditch. The channel through the marsh is well marked, green markers to starboard and white pipes to port. I can see the current swirling around the markers and crab floats, the outboard is working against the running tide. A waterman heading north outside of the channel in a jon boat waves as he goes by.

A little after 11 a.m. I reach Tylerton, rounding the point near the Chesapeake Bay Foundation's classroom building and dorms. About 200 yards past the point I tie up at the public dock. Three blocks to the Drum Point Market, three blocks to a great crabcake sandwich and an outlet where I can recharge my camera battery. I also pick up some triple a batteries, my am/fm radio is going through my supply quicker than expected.

At 12:30 I cast off the docklines and motor south along the Tylerton waterfront, following the shoreline's curve to the SE. Heading directly into the wind I stay under power entering Tyler Creek, which looks to be more of a bay than a creek. But considering that most of it is just a foot or two deep with only a single narrow channel, it really is a creek. I was surprised my first time here by the navigation markers. This time I know to look for nothing more than the occasional twig put there by the local watermen.

West of Horse Hammock, where I've got depths of three and four feet, I shut off the outboard and raise the sail. I can already see Tangier Island to the south through the haze. The wind is excellent. South of Peach Orchard Point, at the southern tip of Smith Island, I behind a series of tacks on the east side of the the shoal that runs from Smith all the way to Tangier Island.

Late afternoon finds Spartina on a last tack past Port Isobel, the island just to the east of Tangier. The tack carries me past Port Isobel right into Cod Bay, my anchorage for the night. The centerboard touches bottom. I raise it, point Spartina into the wind, drop the anchor.

After a big lunch at the Drum Point Market I have little appetite for dinner. I get out some crackers and a can of oysters. That and a cup of fruit will do it for the night.

After dinner I look to the west and see a dark cloud coming my way. I turn on the weather radio to listen for warnings but there are none. Just the typical "chance of showers and thunderstorms." I decide to put up the boom tent, something we haven't done on a cruise for almost two years. But with the size and darkness of the cloud I think it is the right thing to do.

A little after 8 p.m. the lighting and thunder starts. I'm in my sleeping bag, my sleeping bag is inside the gore-tex bivy. There is no wind or rain, just lightning and thunder. The pace of the thunder increases until it is almost constant. Looking up at the boom tent I see it glow under the continuous lighting.

After an hour of lighting I hear the first few drops of rain. Then a torrential downfall accompanied by a blast of wind. Spray flies through the vent in the forward part of the boom tent. The lightning continues. I flip the top of the bivy over my head to stay dry.

Spartina bucks in the wind, the rigging shudders, the tent shakes. It goes on and on. I'm surprised that I am not worried about the storm. I find myself fascinated, not afraid. I do wonder about the anchor. Did I put enough line out? Are we being pushed across the harbor? Sometimes I can see lights of nearby homes, sometimes I can't. The ten pound navy anchor, five feet of chain and mushroom anchor seems to be holding. But I would put more line out if I could. I reach out of the bivy now and then to sponge out the water that collects near my head on the bunk flat.

The storm seems to end two hours after it started. The lightning, wind and rain end and it is quiet. Then a little rain. I fall asleep.

steve

distance sailed 31.2 nautical miles

moving time 8 hours 49 minutes

moving ave 2.9 knots

day three

2011-10-06T20:27:00.001-04:00

I wake in the early morning hours. Through the mosquito netting I see stars beyond a thin veil of clouds.

I wake again, the night sky is clear and the milky way glows brightly.

I wake a third time. I see only fog.

I wake up at 7 a.m., a late sleeper that day, and the fog is still there. So is a nice breeze out of the east. It takes twenty minutes to stow the sleeping gear, raise sail and haul in the anchor. We sail at 4 knots to the south, heading into nothing but the white fog. I hear deadrise boats rumbling about so I reach into the day storage box and pull out the air horn.

The fog thickens. I try to keep heading due south using the compass but find I do a better job by watching Spartina's track on the gps.

The white-painted workboats boats appear and disappear along the edge of the fog. They are working trotlines, lines stretch out over the bottom for a few hundred yards baited with chunks of eel to catch crabs. The waterman works from a wheel mid-ship, running the trotline up over a device that raises the line from the bottom and drops the crabs into a basket.

A deadrise by the name of Devil's Den, rough looking with rust stains running down her gunwales, crosses my bow. I wave, the waterman glances in my direction then looks away.

Soon I hear gospel hymns coming out of the mist. A waterman on the Sandra Lynn out of Cambridge waves, stereo speakers blasting with songs of praise.

I reach Fishing Point a little after 8 a.m. The winds falls off and I am surrounded by the thick fog, Spartina moves along at just a knot or two. A little after 9 a.m. there is no wind at all, I start the outboard. We motor along at idle speed, heading south until I see the shadows of Roasting Ear Point ahead.

I bear to port to round the point. I see the stakes of fish traps in the shallow ahead and move more to the east. A little after 11 a.m. I am off of Crocheron. The fog seems thicker. Heading south past the fishing village I see patches of blue sky overhead.

I pick out Straddling Point to the east as the fog begins to clear. I turn west towards the point with the idea of anchoring for lunch. But the wind fills in and the fog lifts. I find no reason to stop when we have a nice breeze. I shut down the outboard, turn south towards Hooper Strait and enjoy the feel of being under sail.

Sailing out in the strait at over 4 knots I look up for the first time in three days to see blue skies. It is about time. The wind is crisp, the sun is warm.

I debate my course for a while. I could head south on Tangier Sound, head west to Chesapeake Bay, or sail northwest to Rippons Harbor. I finally deciding to head south on Tangier Sound towards South Marsh Island. Just as I make my decision the drag on the trolling rod goes off. This fish puts up a good fight. I get him close to the boat and he swims under the stern. I work him out and around the rudder and bring him alongside. Soon the bluefish is flapping around inside the boat. Soon he is on the stringer trailing off the stern.

The wind soon falls off and I'm under power again as we work our way down the east side of Bloodsworth Island. We sail past the shallows marked by crab floats and turn SW at Holland Straits. The wind fills in once again, carrying me through the straits and into a nice cove behind Gunbarrel Point on South Marsh Island.

I anchor, grill the bluefish for dinner and relax in the evening. A jon boat with two fisherman from Deal Island approaches Spartina. The older gentleman on board thought I might have found myself stuck in the shallows. No, I tell them, I anchored for the evening and I'm doing just fine. "Is your boat glass or wood" the man asks. "Wood" I tell him. "She's dory built, I can see that" he says. They offer to give me a rockfish for dinner. I tell them thanks but I just finished grilling a bluefish. I thank them for the offer, thank them for stopping to check on me.

I found sailing in the fog interesting. I found sailing under blue skies enjoyable. I check the forecast for the next day. Showers and thunderstorms, SW winds to 10 knots.

steve

distance sailed 18.9 nautical miles

moving time 8 hours 15 minutes

moving average 2.6 knots