Captain's Log

29 September, 2015
Posted by tuck on Friday, October 2, 2015 - 09:22

Duuuude!

So, one of the things that we love about boating is the dynamic nature of the lifestyle.  Eight hours into our cruise to Joshua Cove, the new weather data was up on the ‘Net, and as usual, we worked up a new forecast.  Tropical Depression 11, was forming down the coast, and threatening to become a tropical storm.  A massive High was parked over the Great Lakes.  If it moved, it might push the Low further East, but things looked kinda iffy.  Not to bore you with the details, but our weather window looked like it was moving up 24 hours or so.  Okay.  We made a left turn, changing our course from Joshua Cove to Port Washington.  ETA 21h45, 17.5 hours after our departure from Wickford.  Suzanne took advantage of the opportunity to cook up a tamale pie (we like microwaveable dishes for potentially rough passages), cut up veggies for snacks, and prepare some tuna salad .  Along the way, the group of Krogens hunkered down at Sandy Hook, NJ, just below Manhattan, called us on the phone.  They were all having sips, and had us on speakerphone, asking what our plans were.  When we told them, all we could hear was laughter, and someone exclaiming “No way!”   They had just gotten off the phone with 2 different professional weather routers who told them that they weren’t going anywhere for a week or so.  The call did nothing for our morale.  After we hung up, we talked about where we wanted to be stuck for a week.  As we thought about missing the Krogen Rendezvous in Solomon’s, MD, our spirits sunk even lower.  Can’t dwell on things that you can’t control, so we went back over our weather data-still looked like a small crack for us to slip through.  When the data was updated 6 hours later, the weather window looked like it had enlarged from a crack to an inch or two opening.  Suz and I determined that we’d go through the East River on the tide in the morning.  If the weather was snotty when we got to Sandy Hook, we’d pull in, rent a car, and drive to the Rendezvous.  If it was okay, we’d push on.  Needless to say, the “Sandy Hookers” were in contact, and wanted periodic reports.

Lest you get the wrong idea about our attitudes, let me say categorically that the Admiral and I are both “Weather Weenies”.  We’re not masochists, and our first consideration on any trip is SAFETY.  Our trusty little ship will handle much worse conditions than her human crew will.

We pulled into Port Washington at a few minutes before midnight after a spirited discussion about pushing through NYC(in the Dark) or stopping here.  The pros-the current was just right for going down the East River, while we’d have to wait until 10h00 in the morning for the 4 knot current to change, and the seas along the NJ coast were reported to be reasonable.  The cons-we were both tired (hadn’t prepared for a long passage), and going through NYC at night might be confusing with all of the lights on shore.  Leaning toward the side of caution, we grabbed a free ball and agreed that we’d leave at 07h00, bucking the current into the river.  On our way to Throg’s Neck Bridge, the “Notice to Mariners” delivered a crushing blow.  Obama and Putin would be at the United Nations today, and the East River would be CLOSED from 09h30 until 18h30.  A quick computation revealed that we could not reach the restricted zone until 09h40.  We called the Coast Guard, and were informed that we’d be turned away.  I dejectedly turned the Girl around, heading back to P.W.  The Admiral was not to be deterred.  She got on the phone and called the Coast Guard commanders office.  Not sure what she said, but he said she should talk to the Captain of the cutter on site (USCG “Sailfish”), as he had the ultimate decision.  Our VHF would not reach through the concrete canyons, so the USCG base said that they’d relay our call.  After some discussion, “Sailfish” said that if we could reach the start of the zone by 09h30, he’d permit our transit.  I turned our trusty little speedboat around and Suz “firewalled” the throttle.  Minutes later, an alarm was shrieking and the ECU for the motor told us it wasn’t happy (high temp and excessive fuel consumption as near as I could tell).  Throttling down, the alarm soon cleared.  I edged our speed slowly higher, but held short of the max.  Bucking the current, our ETA edged slowly backward. As we rounded the bend above Roosevelt Island at 09h36, we were greeted by a USCG patrol boat with a bow-mounted machine gun, and blue lights flashing.  They didn’t say a word, but fell in beside us as we transited the East Channel past Roosevelt Island.  400 yards later, another RIB raced towards us and we were handed off to them.  The dance continued until we passed astern of the “Sailfish”, anchored at the south border of the zone.  Suz and I looked at each other in disbelief, wondering “How did that happen?”  As we continued out into the harbor monitoring the VHF, we heard several other vessels being denied passage.  You know me and omens-I KNEW that the seas would smile on us through Cape May.  As we passed the “Sandy Hookers” we gave them a call as promised to give them a report.  2’-4’ seas on 6 seconds with a 10 knot wind.  What we didn’t know was what things would look like 14 hours later-that was the question.  They decided to stay put, in fact some were arranging for rental cars.  They requested regular reports on our way down, and we were on our way.  The rest of the day went pretty smoothly.  The wind and seas rose from time to time, increasing the “pucker factor”, only to fall back to 2’-4’ with a few 7 footers thrown in.  I took the first watch, and saw Green Bay dismantle Kansas City on Monday Night Football.  I had just hung up the phone when the game ended and Suz got up for her watch.  The gang had decided to leave Sandy Hook at 03h00.

Suz woke me up 2 hours later so that we could both be on watch as we transited the Cape May Canal (Kinda skinny, kinda shallow, kinda twisty at the beginning) at dead low tide.  Besides that gut-grabbing feeling that you get as the boat rises under you when you run aground (I cut a corner too close but powered though the mud), the 5 mile run was smooth.  Delaware Bay was a mill pond, and I went back to bed.  We changed watches at around 06h30, continuing up the Delaware.  Arriving at the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal just as the current (which can be substantial) was changing favorably, we decided to push on, as we both felt well-rested.  After exiting the Canal, the fatigue started setting in, and we found a quiet anchorage in the Sassafras River.  It was a little early for bed at 15h30, so we read for a bit, checked to make sure that the 7 other Krogens were nearing Cape May, and watched a movie before turning in at 20h30.

-Later  

27 September, 2015
Posted by tuck on Sunday, September 27, 2015 - 15:58

Goooood Morning!

We were off the ball at Rockland by 06h35, bound for Portland, hoping to make port before the fuel dock at Vessel Services closed at 1700.  Our calculations showed us with enough fuel to make Solomon’s, but with no reserve.  As a carryover from my flying days, we don’t feel comfortable with anything less than a 10-15% reserve.  The fuel prices posted on the internet looked great, so we thought that we’d go ahead and fill up.  We had an unremarkable cruise under overcast skies, with winds under 10 knots, and a 1’-3’ swell.  When we got to Vessel Services (basically a commercial vessel operation) at 16h30, we found that their price was considerably more than what was posted, and didn’t include taxes.  Okay……..change of plan-just took on 150 gallons of diesel.  It was an interesting stop.  We had to dock ourselves in a cross-current (no one to catch our lines).  Having tied up, the attendant was kind enough to come out to the pier and drop the hose the 10’ down to the boat so that we could fuel ourselves.   After gassing up, Suzanne walked up to the shop to find him so that we could pay.  Not sure what I expected-it’s a commercial pier.  After grabbing a ball at Portland Yacht Service, we hit the familiar streets of Portland.  We had an early dinner at “Ribbolita”, and Italian restaurant that we had missed last year, and were rewarded with a fantastic meal.  Handmade pastas and locally sourced fresh vegetables and seafood were washed down with a bottle of Montalcino.  After dinner, a passageata down the waterfront road was in order, along with a stop at the (awesome)kitchen store to check out toys. –There’s a theme here.  Hardware stores and kitchen stores.

We were excited to get back to Portsmouth, NH, as we would be able to visit our friends, Cheryl and Paul (“Just a Splash”-last part of Nova Scotia, 2014) who live on Silver Lake, a couple of hours from town.  We tied up at the city dock in Portsmouth after doing the two-step with several possible marinas.  After initially telling us that they were full, the Harbormaster at the City called us from home to let us know that we could take the berth of a research vessel which would be returning a day later than expected.  Paul and Cheryl came down, and we got caught up on the years’ events (two weddings-their daughter and ours, a year of cruising, and life at their lake house).  They graciously invited us up for a few days, but our schedule (a nasty word that we don’t usually have to deal with anymore) didn’t allow.  Jammed between dinner and non-stop yakkin’, a trip to the liquor store (only state in the Union with no tax on liquor) allowed us to lay in a years’ supply.  Long before we were ready, they had to saddle up and get back on the road home.  That’s cruising.  All about the people you meet.

The morning of the 24th dawned clear and cool, and we were off the dock at 07h10.  Over the course of the next 11 hours, the seas rose from 1’ to 4’-6’.  Our plan had been to anchor in a bay off the channel leading in to Plymouth.  When we dropped the anchor, it was clear that the swell entering from the sea would make a good night’s sleep impossible.  We thought about anchoring in a couple of other spots amongst the islands in the bay, but in the end, I “weenied out”, and we drove the 5 miles into Plymouth to grab a ball, and a good nights sleep.  Our “forced march” didn’t allow for dilly-dallying, so we didn’t even go to shore.  We were off the ball at 06h19, a few minutes before sunrise, and heading for Wickford, Rhode Island which shares Narragansett Bay with Newport.  Some other Krogen pals, Roberto and Maria use the marina there as their Summer base, and have had lotsa good to say about it.  After another long day, we dropped anchor behind Dutch Island, a few miles from the marina, where we would dock the following morning.  The Wickford Marina was small, but meticulously maintained and equipped-very swanky.  The 5,000 square foot enclosed patio area, replete with a hot tub, Viking barbeque and oven, cabinets stocked with plates, plasticware and cooking condiments, umbrella covered tables, and a pergola-covered garden was over the top.  Paul and Jean, retired seafood brokers and owners, were onsite to make certain that things went smoothly.  We chilled on the boat for a few hours to watch the Wolverines skunk Brigham Young, then walked in to town.  Wickford is a quaint little village within the town of Kingston.  The village has a great number of late 17th and early 18th century homes, and a main street lined with funky shops and boutiques.  Suz and I shared a light meal of chowder, Caprese salad, and a flatbread pizza at “Tavern by the Sea” while we watched the Buckeyes dismantle the Broncos.  Back at the Girl, we wished that we had some playmates to hot tub with, but the marina was deserted on this cool Fall evening, so we did a few boat chores and vedged out on some college football.

All of this week, we have been keeping an eye on the weather, looking for a good time for our offshore cruise from New York to Cape May, NJ.  Tuesday has continued to look like the best day, when the seas drop from the 8’0-10’ range down to 5’ or 6’ on a 7-8 second period before rising again on a shorter period through Wednesday into Thursday.  Looks like a pretty skinny window, but it has remained open a crack for the last several forecasts.  There are 5 Krogens stacked up in Sandy Hook, NJ, us, and Bill and Lisa on “Changing Course”, who we passed yesterday while on their way to Newport-all waiting for more favorable conditions to head south.  Our plan is to leave Port Washington, north of Westchester, and ride the tide through Hell Gate down the East River and past Manhattan on Tuesday morning.  From Manhattan, we plan to bang down the coast, arriving at Cape May, NJ, which lies at the mouth of the Delaware Bay in the morning on Wednesday.    Meanwhile, we are headed ESE down the Long Island Sound under thin, altostratus clouds (portending rain), 60 degree temps, and 1’-3’ seas.  We’ll spend the night at Joshua Cove, a little more than halfway down the Sound, before heading to Port Washington.  We should get there early enough to reprovision before heading south on Tuesday.

-Until Then 

22 September, 2015
Posted by tuck on Saturday, September 26, 2015 - 11:50

On the 5th, 3 ups ‘n downs got us from Bangor, ME to Asheville, NC.  I took it as a good omen that all of our flights were on time, and our luggage arrived intact (although the Admiral carried her wedding clothes).  Turned out that the first day of our 11 away from the Girl was just the beginning of an incredible happening.  Leading in to the 12th, we spent some quality time with Suzanne’s sister Sheila, her husband, Mike, and our nephew Ian.  My Dad came in early from Michigan, and Suz’s Mom lives in Asheville, so we had some one-on-one with them too.  Our son, Jeremy came in on the 10th with his family and immediately filled in some holes in our planning, ferrying people here and there, and generally being the “Go to” guy.  Suzanne’s other sister, Sharon, threw a brunch for the ladies on Friday before the evening “Welcome” party at a local microbrewery.  The weather was typical “Asheville Fall”, and the outdoor ceremony and reception at Mike and Sheila’s home on the top of the mountain went without a hitch. (I lied.  We ran out of wine after the cocktail hour, but none of the guests were the wiser, as emergency supplies were brought in before the first glass was empty.  I told the owner of the wine shop several times that we were dealing with real professionals here, but he still underestimated by 5 cases or so.  No harm, no foul.)  Anyway, the Bride was gorgeous (of course!), we got a chance to see most of our friends and relatives (who travelled from long distances), and we gained another son in the process.  Not bad for a weekend’s work.  The flights home were smooth.  Our luggage even beat us back to Bangor.

So………….our routine maintenance-Hmmmmh not so routine.  We had the impression that things were not going as smoothly as anticipated due to receiving a few calls from the mechanic asking us about this’nthat.  When we returned to the Girl, her prop was on the ground next to the boat, and the shaft was pulled out.  The engine room looked like a war zone.  There are some things that you just shouldn’t see out of context, so we closed up the hatches and unpacked our bags.  We got a call from the service manager at Hinckley, informing us that the mechanic, Jay, would be there in the morning to reassemble the drive train.  Launch was scheduled for the tide at 13h00.  Cool. We were up by 07h00 cleaning and waxing.  Jay gave us the short version of the tale of woe.  Seems that the bolts in the entire drive train had been coated with a permanent thread sealer when the Girl was built.  This entailed bringing in a torch to cook the sealer on each and every bolt as it was hauled out with the aid of a 3’ lever attached to an over-sized wrench.  A special tool had to be fabricated, which took a half day of machine shop time.  Long and short, it took a day-and-a-half to do a 2 hour job.  (Ka$$Ching).  All of the rest of our jobs went smoothly.  Well, we got about ½ of the hull waxed, and then it was time to launch.  When the Gal was lowered into the water, she started hemorrhaging water from the new shaft seal.  No worries, I had  them put 2 spares on the shaft.  New seal out, 1 spare in.  Still leaking.  Tide’s going out, so Alizann is re-hauled and wheeled back to the yard.  The shaft needed to be pulled again and new parts installed.  New parts to be overnighted ($$$), try again tomorrow.  The silver lining was being able to wax the rest of the hull.  Next day, prop and shaft out (1 hour, 47 minutes), part arrives at 13h30, we’re back in the water by 15h00.  Sea trial, everything’s working, and No leaks-Yay!  Hinckley puts us up at the marina again, the next morning we’re off to Merchant Island, 3 hours away (check out run).   All the way, the bilge was dry (new seals working), and the Girl was happy.  When we awoke in the morning for our trip to Rockland, there were a few drops of oil in the bilge.  Hmmmm.  Looks like it was coming from the gaskets where our emergency get-home hydraulic motor clamped around the main shaft-not good.  This is getting long, so suffice to say it was Saturday.  Hinckley closed.  Make decision to head back to Southwest so they can re-eval on Monday.  This is where it gets good.  As we pass the Hinckley service dock, we call Shaun on the VHF and tell him what’s going on.  He directs us back to the marina in town, and tells us that he’ll have Scott, the head mechanic give us a call.  No call from Scott, we’re doing the math on days until we have to be in Solomon’s, MD for the Krogen rendezvous (have to be there, ‘cause we’re chairing it next year).  Get a knock on the hull, and its Shaun, who drove into town after he was done with work to check on us.  Scott’s been trying to call, but our Verizon is not up to the task in these parts.  We call him on Shaun’s phone.  He’ll get to us first thing on Monday.  On Sunday we’re doing laundry and catching up on some chores when we hear a knock on the hull.  It’s Scott.  This has been bugging him, so he stopped by on his day off.  He’s already spoken with Jay, who said that there was oil in the bilge when he started the job.  Well, I say, “There was black liquid in the bilge, but it was from the leaky shaft seal”.  I feel a “he said, she said” comin’ on.  We’re down in the engine room, and he’s checking the gaskets with a mirror and flashlight.  He lifts his head up, looks me in the eye, and says “It’s our problem, we’ll take care of it”.  You coulda knocked me over with a feather.  We don’t have a day to spare, so I ask him if it’s likely to get worse.  He says “No, probably not”, so I ask him if we can continue the job when we are near the Hinckley yard in Stuart, FL this December.  “Yep, we’ll call them and set it up-see my guy Chris, a great mechanic who used to work for me here”.  I know this was a long tale (and I shortened it considerably), but I had to tell it because integrity and honesty are so often lacking in the world we live in.

We departed Great Harbor Marina in Southwest, ME at dawn on the 21st, bound for Rockland, ME.  Last year, we visited the Farnsworth Museum there and really enjoyed their collection of Wyeth paintings.  The majority is Andrew’s, but there is a smattering of his Dad’s (N.C.), and his son’s (Jamie).  The paintings rotate through the museum, so you can have a return visit and see different works.  We went, we saw, we enjoyed.  Although our friends Randy and Cindy (Krogen Manatee “Morningstar”-recently moved here) were unable to join us, we had a delicious dinner at Cafe Miranda, where we sat at the bar in the kitchen.  As usual, we took pictures of the menu for our new son-in-law, Ben (Chef de Cuisine at The Edgewater in Madison, WI).  It was an early evening-we had to start making tracks on our 600 and some-odd mile slog to Solomon’s.  Portland for fuel and good eats tomorrow.

-Later

 

3 September, 2015
Posted by tuck on Wednesday, September 23, 2015 - 15:39

We stayed on a mooring/dock (They’re like a piece of dock with an anchor, detached from land like a mooring.  Ours was about 40’ long, so we could tie alongside and get off the boat and onto it.  Ours had a water spigot as well-pretty cool) at Northeast Harbor until September 3rd.  While we were there, we took the dinghies to shore with Steve and Julia and hiked the 3 miles up to Jordan Pond via Thuya Gardens.  Thuya Lodge and Gardens is a 140 acre preserve which was gifted to the residents of Mt. Desert Island by a Boston landscape architect, Joseph Henry Curtis in  1928.  He built a lodge on the site, where he summered from the 1880’s until the 1920’s.  This cabin has been restored, and is furnished with much of its’ original furnishings, and is now open to the public.  The semi-formal English Border Garden, (which is extensive-several acres, was in full bloom) and much of the landscaping throughout the property was created by Charles Savage, a landscape architect who was the Trustee of the property for some 37 years during the mid 1900’s.  The gardens and beautifully restored lodge are a must-see for visitors to the island.  Our hike to Jordan Pond traversed a mixed hardwood forest on well-groomed trails.  With the sun filtering down through the canopy, and temperatures in the low 70’s, it was a perfect day for a stroll.  We emerged at Jordan Pond’s restaurant just in time for a fashionably late lunch.  Famous for its’ popovers, the restaurant made some pretty fancy sandwiches as well, all washed down with a glass (or two) of prosecco.  After lunch, we all hiked the 3 mile trail around Jordan Pond (a freshwater reservoir supplying drinking water for the island).  The terrain was flat, but traversed several different ecosystems ranging from boggy to rocky to forested.  At the end of the day, we hopped on one of the free Acadia Park Service buses for a ride back to the boats.  We spent another day sprucing up the boats-Steve washing and waxing, and us beginning the painful process leading up to varnishing our rails.  After a day of sanding and scraping, the Girl was looking pretty shabby, and will probably continue to until she’s finally varnished (I don’t know when).  While we were engaged in rehab, Cindra and Dave slid in to the other side of our float, aboard their 37’ Beneteau sailboat, “Restless”.  We were having S & J over for Suzanne’s now-famous Cioppino (San Francisco fish stew-hers with lobster, Halibut, mussels, and scallops), so we invited Dave and Cindra too.  It turned out to be a great mix, and we all had a fun evening of sips, eats, and conversation.  “Restless” and “Erben Renewal” left the next day, and Suzanne and I spent the afternoon exploring and shopping in the village of Northeast Harbor.  Suz was able to augment her wardrobe, and I got to pick up a few kitchen gadgets.  It was a nice justthetwoofus day.  I called Hinckley Boat Yard, over in Southwest Harbor, late in the afternoon, to confirm our haul-out for the next day (the 3rd).  When I spoke to Will, the service manager, he said that he’d be in Northeast that evening, and would stop by the boat to go through our wishlist with us.

On the morning of the 3rd, we were off the mooring by 08h00, and on the mooring at Hinckley by 08h35.  The tide state dictated a 14h30 haulout, so we spent the morning packing our bags for our flight to Asheville, North Carolina, where our daughter, Alison would be marrying our soon-to-be son, Ben Wells.  We watched the guys hauling smaller boats through the early afternoon.  Around 14h15, we heard the “beep, beep, beep” of the 80 ton lift as it moved towards the ramp.  No activity for another half an hour-we figured that it was break time.  By 15h00, there was still no activity, the tide was falling, and our ride to the airport was still coming at 1700h.  Call on the VHF.  “What’s happenin’ guys?”  “Did you hear that bang?”  (Uh Oh)  “The Travelift is broken, don’t think it’ll be fixed ‘till Tuesday (Monday was Labor Day)”.  Now I’m getting’ a little nervous.  First, I’m not sure the Girl will go 4 days on her batteries while she’s hanging on a mooring, and we’ve got several months of food in the freezers.  Second, no one but me has ever driven our Girl into or out of a lift, we’ve always been there.  No problem, Hinckley will cover our dockage down at the marina so we can plug in, and they’ll send a guy out right now so I can show him how to run the boat.  Still not feeling real great about this.  Well………..Shaun, the dockmaster comes out to the boat, and we go through the systems.  Turns out he’s a delivery captain in the off-season when not working for Hinckley.  Okay, now I’m feeling better-not best, but much better.  We got the Girl up to the dock at Great Harbor Marina, had some dinner, said goodbye to “Alizann”, and waited for Nick(Nick and his Dad Nick are SW harbor police officers and have a taxi company- City Cab) to pick us up for our hour and a half ride to the Sheraton at Bangor airport.  We both had a little unease about the way the day had unfolded, but our negative thoughts were overshadowed by the fantastic upcoming events in North Carolina that we were so looking forward to.

As it turned out, the broken lift was a mere foreshadowing of the events that were to unfold in Maine.  But more on that,

-Later

 

28 August, 2015
Posted by tuck on Sunday, September 20, 2015 - 13:51

So……Sorry.  Long time, no write.

Thursday, August 21.  After staying on the Girl for dinner at the lock wall, we decided that we’d just enjoy the sunny evening and chill.  We had been in to St. Peter’s the year before with Bill and Lauren, and didn’t think that there was anything more that we wanted to see.  When we woke up and departed at 07h00 on Friday, there really wasn’t anything to see then either except pea-soup fog.  We were thankful that we had been through here the year before, as it was a little tricky navigating out in the fog.  We picked up another vessel on radar about 200 yards out, but got no reply from them on the VHF.  When we were about 50 yards away, we heard them off the port bow, but didn’t see them until they were about 50 feet away.  We shouted a “Hello” to the sailboaters working through the channel in the opposite direction by the “ Braille Method”, bouncing from one side to the other, and were soon alone again.

The rest of the day was unremarkable, as we were surrounded by a wall of cotton gauze for nine-and-half hours.  We dropped anchor on the South side of Nova Scotia at Fisherman’s Harbor-at least that’s where our instruments said we were.  During cocktails at 17h45, we caught our first glimpse of land since leaving the lock wall at St. Peter’s some 11 hours earlier.  No reason to drop the dink for exploration, as Fisherman’s H. is just an overnighter for us-nothing to see on shore.  Besides, the fog had closed back in within an hour.

Sunday, August 23rd, 07h01 anchor up in thick fog; depart Fisherman’s Harbor-see land as we pass 100 meters from end of jetty.  At 09h15, 6 miles offshore, the fog clears, but still shrouds shoreline.  Under sunny skies, we had 3’-5’ seas on our port beam.  During the next 10 hours, we ran through several banks of thick fog, which, from a distance, looked like gray cotton balls sitting on the water.  The shoreline remained obscured by fog for the whole day.  As we passed Pearl Island, where we had seen the Puffins a month-and-a-half earlier, there were none to be seen.  They had obviously made their sojourn back to the Arctic seas.  In their stead, the rocky shores were jammed with seals, none of which were there the 2  months before.  As we rounded the point East of Lunenburg, we were again enveloped in the fog.  We picked up several vessels around us on the radar, but didn’t get a visual on any of them until a 24’ Searay blasted out of the fog about 150’ off our bow, heading straight towards us.  Nothing Suzanne could do, except pull back on the throttle and brace for the impact.  As he blew past us, not 6’ off our beam at 20+ knots (no radar), I couldn’t help thinking of the old axiom that “There are bold pilots and there old pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots”.  Good luck, Dude.  The weather was still thick as we rounded the jetty into Lunenburg.  We headed straight to the Zwicker dock, our old standby.  The fog became wispy enough that we could see that both sides of the dock were full.  The seawall up the harbor by the Maritime museum was also full, so it looked like we’d anchor out in the mooring field, which was also standing room only.  As we glided back past Zwicker, a lady appeared and told us that there was 20 meters of dock behind their sailboat, “Perseverance”.  Didn’t look like it, but depth perception can be tricky in the dusk and fog.  By the time that we were tied up, with our swim platform directly beneath their dinghy davit, we had about 6 meters of our 17 meter vessel hanging out past the end of the dock-no problemo.  After checking the predicted sea state (10-12’) for the next day, we decided that another day in Lunenburg would be fun.  Monday dawned bright, sunny, and warm, with a brisk wind.  We spent the day shopping and “touristing”.  Suzanne scored a couple of dresses for the events surrounding our daughter, Alison’s upcoming wedding, while I picked up a couple of kitchen gadgets at the culinary supply store in town.  Lunch on the harbor patio of the “Savvy Sailor” was unremarkable, except for the view.  That evening, we invited Terry and Denise whom we had met that afternoon, to join us for dinner at “Magnolia”, a favorite restaurant of ours.  Terry and Denise live in Halifax, but recently moved aboard their 43’ Mainship, ”Aquataura”,  after Terry’s retirement this Spring.  Denise is taking a year off to live aboard as the couple cruise the East coast of the U.S.  I’m guessin’ that they may not be coming back to dirt. 

By the morning of the 25th, the seas had lain down to 3-5’ on a 6 second interval, and we were off to Shelburne, NS by 06h55.  Shelburne was first settled by the Acadians in the late 1600’s, and was known as Porte Razoir, given to the harbors’ resemblance to an open straight razor.  The Acadians abandoned their village after numerous raids by New Englanders during Queen Annes War in 1705.  The Brits appeared next, in around 1715 and established a small fishing village which was attacked by Mi’kmaq’s (First Nation) raiders and burned to the ground.  After a few other abortive attempts at permanent settlement, a permanent colony was established in the 1780’s by New England Loyalists escaping from the United States.  Shelburne was also the site of North America’s largest settlement of free blacks, mostly escaped slaves from the U.S., numbering some 5,000 souls.  By 1784, the population of Shelburne numbered around 17,000, making it the fourth largest city in North America.  Due to lack of good agricultural land and problematic transportation, economic growth didn’t happen, and the population rapidly declined over the next decade.  Shipbuilding and fishing have provided the economic backbone for the area from those times till the present.  Recently, the film The Scarlet Letter was shot here.  Anyway, I decided to wet a line along the way, but no bites, just pesky seagulls.  We hoped to catch up with our Bahamas pals, Julia and Steve aboard “Erben Renewal”, who were moored there.  We weren’t disappointed.  “E. R.” was on a ball outside the Shelburne Yacht Club, and we picked one up as well.  We had dinner and caught up on our Summer adventures at “Charlotte Lane”, often billed as Nova Scotia’s finest restaurant.  The food was noteworthy, sourced locally, and prepared with imagination.  The conversation was better.  The following day, a rainy one, was spent exploring town, knickknack shopping and visiting the Shelburne Museum.  Comprised of several restored buildings, reenactors  portrayed life as it was in the 1800’s.  In the restored dory building shop, a master dorymaker was still building a couple of Shelburne Dories per summer.  Between the buildings, under a canopy, a wheelwright was fashioning wagon wheels with hand tools, much in the same way as was done 150 years ago.    Suzanne and I had enjoyed our meal at “Charlotte Lane” so much the night before that we made reservations for another go.  We called S & J, but they had plans to eat aboard that evening.  As Steve was chomping at the bit to move the next day (they had been here for a few days already), we joined them for sips before dinner.  So much for the best laid plans-they came in with us for dinner on shore.  Over dinner, among other things, we agreed to join up on the 28th to cross the Bay of Fundy as we both headed back to the States. 

In hot, humid weather, Suz and I spent the 27th making a 3 mile round trip stroll to the grocery store and prepping the Girl and some food for our upcoming passage.  It was “race day” at the yacht club, with 3 buck burgers and lots of cold beer, so we had dinner at the clubhouse after the sailboat race.  “Aquataura” had come in during the day, so we got together with Terry and Denise for a (too much) fun-filled evening.  Live music was provided by a duo off a visiting sailboat (they were really good).

Fortunately, timing the tide and current (4 knot) as we rounded the southwest corner of Nova Scotia 4 hours after the start of our journey dictated a late morning departure.  We departed the Shelburne Yacht Club mooring field at 09h40, accompanied by “Aquataura”, who quickly pulled away from us due to their faster cruising speed.  Their plan was to visit a few more ports in NS and get closer to the U.S. before making the jump to the States.  As we passed Cape Negro Island, we contacted Steve and Julia, who had been anchored there the previous evening.  As they fell in next to us, it felt like old times.  Lines in the water, we were on our way back to the U.S.A.  We caught a favorable 3 knot current, riding the tide out into the Bay of Fundy and the seas were as predicted- 1’-2’ until around midnight, then rising to 2’-4’ until 04h00, when they began to subside to around 1’ as we entered Northeast Harbor at Mt. Desert, ME.  No fog, we caught a mooring, and then waited for the Customs officer who arrived and cleared us at 10h25.

Later (sooner)

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