Captain's Log

Block Island, 16 June, 2015
Posted by tuck on Friday, June 19, 2015 - 18:31

Buenos dias

0530 on the 13th, and I’m ready to roll.  The Admiral…..Not so much.  That’s O.K., we’re on a mooring, so I can slip it myself, and get the Girl up the Sound while she gets a reasonable nights’ sleep.  Our plan is to transit the Long Island Sound to the east end of Long Island today so that we can make a short jump across to Block Island, then on to Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket, and finally Provincetown before heading to Nova Scotia.  We’ll spend a couple of days at each stop, picking up some of the sights that we missed on our trip down the coast last Fall.  It’s a gorgeous day, high 60’s and partly cloudy as we make our way to the Northeast.  We see a few boats along the way, but not nearly the number that we encountered in September last year-I guess it’s still early in the season.  The water is still cool, around 55 degrees, so the wind blowing off of it has a little nip.  Suz says she’ll have to break out some warmer clothes.  Ironic that it’s Summer and we’re unpacking the long-sleeved shirts and fleecies.  The good news is that the wine cellar (bilge) will be a lot nicer temperature for the bottles stored there.  In midafternoon, we hear a boat screaming up on our starboard side.  I get up to look out the window in time to see a USCG RIB alongside, around 10 feet from our rail.  The guys don’t look too happy.  After ordering Suz to stop the boat, and before I had a chance to ask them, they asked me what the problem was.  Long story short, they had received a Mayday call from an unidentified vessel, and localized it to our position.  I assured them that we had made no such call, and in fact, had not used the radio at all today.  They seemed unconvinced, and asked if we had any children on board.  After a little backandforth, they dropped back off our quarter and hovered for awhile.  We weren’t sure what to do, so we got underway (slowly).  Eventually, their boat peeled off without any further communication, and we continued on.  We didn’t feel good about this whole matter, because calling in false emergencies is kinda frowned upon, but there was nothing we could do about it.  Later, as the Coast Guard was periodically broadcasting that they had received a Mayday from thus-and-such a lat./long., I calculated our position at that time using hourly positions recorded in our logbook.   We were 2.7 miles from the reported position, but that didn’t make us feel any better.  Three hours later, we heard the USCG reporting that they had received a Mayday in a child’s voice reporting that “We are sinking”, asking if anyone had any information on this call.  This drama played out for another hour or two before the Coast Guard cancelled the alert, and informing all listeners that calling in false emergencies could result in $25K fines, possible imprisonment, and restitution to the Coast Guard for all costs incurred.  Nearing Shelter Island, our destination, we heard another call from a boater in distress, this one “taking on water”.  I won’t bore you with the details, but the sailboat was filling faster than the pumps could pump.  Fortunately, they were only a few miles from port, and motored back to a waiting Travel lift sling that lifted them out before the REALLY BAD happened.  Ooooooh, the excitement of it all!

Entering Dering Harbor on Shelter Island, it’s pretty clear that there’s no room to anchor.  The mooring balls take up all of the deep water, so we call Mike, the owner of Jack’s Marine (and hardware), who directs us to one of his moorings. It’s one of those rare early summer warm evenings, so under sunny skies and a setting sun we take our cocktail cruise in the dinghy.  Sunday dawns sunny and warm, so we throw the bikes into White Star and head for shore.  The roads on the island aren’t exactly bike-friendly, but we manage around 15 miles and a good survey of Shelter.  Many of the homes along the shore remind us of the Victorian architecture on Mackinaw Island in Michigan.  Real estate here is not for the faint-hearted or those of shallow pocket.  A 2 bedroom ranch in the cheap seats (mid island) goes for $500-$600K, on the shore starting at $2M.  Gawking is still cheap, and we get our money’s worth.  We broke up our ride with a 6 mile hike in Mashomack Preserve, one of The Nature Conservancy’s largest properties.  Even though we stayed on the trails as directed, Suzanne managed to pick up a few ticks.  Over the next few hours, long after our hike was done she picked off around 8 of the little buggers.  What was weird is that we were side by side the whole hike, and I had nary a one.  It brought back memories for Suz, harkening back to her childhood when either she or one of her sisters would find one that had been onboard for a day or two and had attained rather remarkable proportions.  Needless to say, a good hot shower was in order when we returned to the Girl, and the clothes were submerged in a sinkful of water.  Like the dutiful husband that I am, I offered to inspect the real estate very carefully for any hangers-on.  That evening, when I awoke to the sound of the raindrops pounding on the deck above our bed, I imagined the patter of little tick feet running across my chest.  I’m pretty sure there’s a little hypochondria(sp?) going on here.  Well, the torrential rain the night before was the vanguard of a pretty significant cold front.  We woke to a steady rain and 56 degree temperatures-a perfect day for a boat ride.  We slipped our lines and made our way to Block Island battling a 3 knot current with a 25 knot wind on our starboard bow.  The rain was torrential at times, with visibilities down to ½ mile at times.  We passed a convoy of 4 small gunboats heading west, escorting a nuclear sub to Groton, CT., where the East Coast base is located.  Upon entering Salt Pond at Block Island, we spied our Nordhavn buddies, Jim and Colleen, as well as “Tapestry”, a 58’ Krogen, which our friends Bill and Stacy had recently sold.  We haven’t met the new owners yet, but I’m guessin’ tht’s in the cards for the next day or two.  Meanwhile, it’s 57 degrees, raining, and blowing like stink, so we’re hunkered down after rewatching a couple episodes of “Game of Thrones”.  Suz is doing some website research, and I’m doin’ the hunt-and-peck thing to bring us up to date.  Colleen just called, so we’ll be joining them for dinner on shore somewhere tonight-not sure where, but they’re the locals and I’m sure will pick someplace good.  It’s supposed to be 82 tomorrow (I’ll believe it when I see it).  As long as it quits pouring, we’ll get some biking and exploring in.

-That’s it for now. 

Offshore to New York, 10 June 2015
Posted by tuck on Sunday, June 14, 2015 - 19:35

Good Morning and ready for the next offshore trip

On the 10th of June, a 0800 departure would allow us to catch the ebb tide out to Hampton Roads, but would put us in New York City around midnight the following day.  Not an ideal time to arrive in a busy harbor, but it looked like the seas on the north end of our journey would be deteriorating after that.  Our voyage had an inauspicious start.  On the way to Norfolk, we had to wait over an hour for 2 railroad bridges to open-very frustrating.  In addition to the exclusion zones surrounding all the Navy vessels docked along the Elizabeth River; work on the underwater highway tunnel created a virtual slalom course down to the ocean.  Security boats were constantly on their radios, forcefully reminding boaters to “alter course” to stay out of these zones.  Soooooo……some yahoo gets on the VHF with “Praise Allah, Death to Americans”.  The cool reply, presumably from one of the Navy patrol boats is “…..Really?”.  Moments later, a gray gunboat and a helo race by….I’m guessin’ they’re gonna ruin some bigmouth’s day.  For the next 20 hours, the seas and winds are benign, and the only company that we have is “Mosey On”, ½ mile off our starboard quarter.  The only wildlife seen is the occasional flying fish and playful dolphins.  I figured I would give the fish a break on this trip. Rods takin’ a rest.  At 0500, M.O. peels off and heads into Cape May, where Jim and Coleen will get some sleep and rest up before heading home to Block Island.  At our last bail-out point off Atlantic City, the seas are building, and the wind is coming up, but we decide to push on to NYC, 12 hours away.  Over the remaining miles, the seas only built to 2’-4’ on a 5 second interval, with winds peaking at 20 knots before subsiding after dark.  Passing Sandy Hook, NJ, we entered the New York traffic area.  The radar and chart plotter were covered with targets, most commercial vessels at this time of night.  Running a course perpendicular to the outgoing channel, I got a call from a captain on an outgoing freighter a few miles away.  I assured her that we were not interested in a close-quarters situation, and would hold until she passed by.  After our brief conversation, the freighter captain a mile behind her called her and asked her to repeat our conversation.  She said “He sees us and will wait”.  It’s just amazing how different things look at night without perspective or depth perception-I love my AIS and radar.

As we glided in to Gravesend anchorage around midnight, we spotted “Spirit Journey”, another 48’ Krogen laying at anchor just off the Toys Are Us store.  Captained by Ron and Michele Hall, she is heading up the Hudson River, through the Erie Canal, the Trent Severn and the Great Lakes on her way to the Mississippi.  Since we had to delay our morning departure to wait for the flood tide, we were able to sleep in.  Unfortunately, Ron and Michele’s vessel was a speck under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge when we woke up at 0800, so we had to make do on the “catching up quotient” with a phone call.  Their goal is Chicago by September, then on down the rivers to the Gulf of Mexico-good stuff.  We were underway by 1200, with the Coast Guard’s tall ship on our port quarter, accompanied by two RIBS’ (rigid inflatable boats (Zodiacs)) with 50 cal. machine guns on their bows.  One of the RIBs raced up in front of us, turned, and put its’ bow on the Girl about 20 yards out.  The Captain got on the VHF and hailed me to remind me of the 500 yard separation zone around military vessels.  Message received, I informed her of our intentions.  She seemed satisfied, and the situation provided us with some good pics.  Later, passing Lady Liberty stirred the emotions, but didn’t yield much of a photo op due to the hazy skies.  Up the East River and through Hell Gate, we’re happy that we waited for the flood tide as we have a 3 ½ knot current pushing us along instead of fighting us. It is impressive going through NYC on your own bottom. East River side the historic Brooklyn (1883), Manhattan and Williamsburg bridges welcome you.  Wonderful views of the Empire State, Chrysler and United Nations buildings. Pretty impressive.  The island in the East River have colorful pasts.  Roosevelt Island, home to the defunct NYC Lunatic Asylum, North Brother Island home to the Smallpox hospital and place where Typhoid Mary was held. Of course Rikers Island which still remains a prison. Travelling on the East River we hear an alert that Hilary Clinton will be “throwing her hat in the ring” for President on Roosevelt Island on Saturday. Whew, made it through the East River before the security mayhem.  At 1615, we arrive at Manhassett Bay, where the city of Port Washington has free mooring balls available.  We grab a ball, and drop our dinghy, “White Star” for the first time in nearly a month, to head ashore to provision with fresh produce.  (These towns that have free docks or mooring balls have it figured out.  Boaters mean revenue for local merchants.  We spent $170 at the grocery store and $100 at the wine shop, while using none of the infrastructure but the mooring ball).  End of editorial.  Early to bed, as we have decided to push on to the East end of Long Island, a 13 hour journey tomorrow.

-Later

 

10 June, 2015
Posted by tuck on Sunday, June 14, 2015 - 07:59

Good Morning

 After tying up at Bald Head, we took time for a little nap, then a good boat washdown.  Our friend, Betty, who just moved into her house there gave us a call and offered the use of her golf cart for touring the island while she had meetings with some of her contractors.  The last time we were here, we had such a good time bike riding, we decided to forego the offer and get some exercise.  That evening, Betty picked us up and took us to her new home for a tour and a tasty chicken dinner.  Her house was a rental unit for a few years, and she is giving it some much-deserved TLC, and some personal touches.  From the work that she’s done already, it’s obvious that she has a vision.  I can’t wait to see the final product.  After dinner, we took Betty’s “Guest Cart” back to the marina, promising to pick her up in the morning so that she could give Suzanne a tutorial on our owner’s group website.  (Betty is the outgoing Webmistress, while the Admiral is picking up those duties for the coming year(s)).  We had a raging thunderstorm that evening, and the puddles were plentiful when I rode the 2 miles to pick Betty up in the morning.  Back at the ranch, I whipped up breakfast while the ladies got down to business.  Including quick breaks for breakfast and coffee cake, they said “Uncle” around 8 hours later.  What a trooper! It was so gracious of Betty to give up a day in the middle of the mayhem that occurs when moving into a new house.

Our weather window had slammed shut, so going offshore around Cape Hatteras (The Graveyard of the Atlantic) was out.  Looked like it was back up the ICW to Masonboro Inlet, and then coming back in at Morehead City, where we would spend the night at the city marina.  Our excitement for the day entailed passing a dredge en route up the ICW with a couple hundred feet of pipe, guided by one large and three small tugs. The 5 minutes it took to pass rated a 5 on the 1-10 pucker meter.  After exiting the ICW at Masonboro Inlet, our direct course to Morehead had to be modified to pass outside the safety zone in the ocean outside Camp LeJeune, where the Marines were staging full-scale training involving live fire and landing operations as well as Stinger missile launches, and air support from fighter jets.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get much of a show as we were 12 miles offshore.  Entering the inlet at Morehead City was interesting, as there was a dredge in the channel, and a temporary channel had been buoyed to the south.  What made it interesting was locating small temporary buoys while looking straight into the setting sun, and fighting the raging tidal current.  At the city marina, Bill, the Harbormaster, was able to squeeze us in between sportfishing boats that were congregating for the  57th Big Rock Blue Marlin tournament beginning Monday.  Big money in fishing, winner could win over $550,000! After 13 ½ hours, we didn’t care how noisy their music was, we conked out until 0700 when we pushed off the dock.   Our  13 hour push up the ICW landed us at the Deep Water Point anchorage on the Alligator River, where we arrived and dropped anchor at dark.  The following day, 12 hours more put us at Atlantic Yacht Basin, where we would take a day to catch our breath, and get some routine maintenance done.  Here, I changed the oil, impellers, and zincs on the motor and generator, as well as spending 3 hours cleaning the bottom of the boat.  While we are at A.Y.B., we meet John and Joan, a couple from New York, here on their sailboat.  They’ve been here for a week or so, having work done on their engine, and have scoped out a Mexican restaurant which John says is “cheap and good”.  We pile into their rental car, and sure enough, the food at El Toro was cheap and good.  2 entrees and a couple beers for $26-Yeah, Baby.  The Admiral learned that the lock before Norfolk was closing for the next 2 days to effect repairs.  So, the next morning after a scary (not bike friendly) 5 mile ride to the post office, we got off the dock and ran through the lock, stopping at Top Rack Marina 5 miles away. 

The next few days are spent just chillin’ and waiting for a weather window to get on up the coast.  While we are there, we meet a couple aboard a 46’ Nordhavn trawler, “Mosey On” that is moored next to Alizann.  Jim and Coleen are headed home to Block Island, and are waiting for weather as well.  Over dinner at the Amber Lantern, we agree to run up the coast together.

 

-Long Haul on the ‘Morrow

3 June, 2015
Posted by tuck on Wednesday, June 3, 2015 - 18:53

YaHoo

0730, and we’re an hour away from Bald Head, where we’ll rest up and get the Girl ready for the next leg.  We’re not sure if we’ll run the Intracoastal for a ways, or go offshore again-depends on the conditions.  We do know that tonight and tomorrow night will be spent at the dock.  Suzanne took over the webmaster duties for our owners group last November, and will be able to meet with Betty, the former webmistress, who recently bought a home on Bald Head.  Meanwhile, I’ll do some boatcleaning and maybe ride my bike a little bit.

The last 45 hours were pretty quiet as far as boat traffic went.  We saw 3 freighters outside Charleston, 2 shrimpers in Mayport, and 2 small fishing boats along the way.  Other than these-nada.  Nothing but us and the ocean on all horizons.  We were treated to a nice dolphin show off of Charleston, with a half dozen being pushed along in our bow wave in the azure blue water.  Later, 2 jet fighters, presumably from the Naval Air Station in Mayport, provided us with ringside seats for a high-altitude dogfight.  I dragged a line for about 3 hours.  After losing my bait in the first 10 minutes, I thought it’d be a target-rich environment-Nope.  I was thinkin’ it was about time to reel in and call it a day when the line went screaming off my reel.  HaHa, got a small Blackfin Tuna for my efforts.  4 pretty steaks will make a couple of good meals.  Last night, the International Space Station passed overhead at 2103.  Years ago, we saw the Shuttle go overhead on Lake Michigan, but have never seen the ISS.  With the help of stabilized binoculars, and no ambient light, we were able to make out the solar panels and running lights on the station as it passed 60 degrees above the horizon in around 10 minutes time.  Nerd time.

The weather was benign.  The first night, we experienced 2’-4’ swells with 9 second intervals on our Starboard beam, and small wind waves.  After that, the swells dropped to 1’-3’, with almost no wind waves for the duration of the trip.  During the days, the sun was out in full force.  By nights, the moon was waxing gibbous, 90% and 99% visible.  Kinda makes us want to do it again.  Well, just about to the channel at Bald Head.

-See Ya 

31 May, 2015
Posted by tuck on Wednesday, June 3, 2015 - 07:39

Hola Mi Amigos,

Ortega Landing Marina in Jacksonville is a great home away from home.  After our stay last Christmas, we were determined to come back.  The facility is secure, run by a retired Navy Chief, and meticulously maintained by a former Navy (then USAIR) pilot.  Pool, hot tub, free laundry, lightning fast internet-you get the picture.  It’s kinda like Christmas when we arrive, as we arranged to have our mail and a few other goodies (Amazon Prime rules!) delivered here in anticipation of our stay. By the time we get all our stuff out of the storeroom, it’s nearly empty.  Bruce is glad we finally got here, and thinks that he should get a bottle of wine out of the case that he’s been holding for us.  We’ve been saving some shore chores for here, so we: drop off the cushions from the bow seat for placement of some snaps, drop off the backup nav computer to get a new power supply, leave the bedspread and some clothes at the dry cleaners, leave the bikes at the shop for a week of rehab (remember that they went for a swim in Naples-lotsa rust and about 3 out of 18 gears actually working), and hit West Marine to pick up stuff they’d been holding for us.  That was the first day.  The air conditioner in our room hadn’t been making cold for a while, and I couldn’t get it doped out, so after 3 calls and messages, Clay Hansen Marine (recommended by Bruce, the Harbormaster) finally called back and arranged for their tech, Chris to come out in 2 days’ time.  Meanwhile, we rented a car and hit Home Depot, Sam’s, Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and all the usual suspects to restock.  I had planned to hit Sailor’s Exchange, kind of a marine second hand store, to grab some parts for the ongoing projects, but found that they had closed the Jacksonville store the month before-Bummer!  The store in St. Augustine was still open, though, so we also took a field trip BACK to St. A.  On the way home, we saw about 20 emergency vehicles at a construction site along the highway.  Ten miles further, we passed a school bus stopped on a surface street sporting yellow police tape around it with several police cars and a television news crew in attendance.  That night on the news, we found out that a man had been killed in an accident at the construction site, and some idiot had shot up the school bus, hitting 2 little girls (both expected to recover).  Day 3, and Suzanne’s working on the replacement nav computer (we’ll keep the one being repaired as a backup to the backup), and I’m wiring in a new alarm system while waiting for Chris, the AC tech, to arrive.  I’m putting in exhaust high temp alarms on the propulsion and generator engines, and high water alarms in the bilges.  Placing the sensors was the easy part; running wires up to the pilothouse took a little more time.  Chris shows, and gives a dire diagnosis.  The compressor is dead.  Good news is that the replacement fits the same footprint, and he should be able to get one in 7-10 days.  Bad news-$4.5K.  Ouch!  We leave a boat key with Bruce, and fly back to Michigan for our biannual dirt chores.  Physicals in Ann Arbor, dental appointments, eye exams, meet with CPA, get Mom-of-the Bride dress altered, haircut for the Admiral, visit my old office, and stay with Suz’s BF Linda in East Lansing, then off the next day to meet with our friend (and broker), Mark, in Grand Rapids.  From there, we drove up to Charlevoix to check on the house, and get things ready for our buds, Dick and Jan, who will use it as a cottage this summer.  After recommissioning the hot tub, I discover that there’s water leaking from somewhere that I can’t get to-@#$%&*!  Call Charlie, the hot tub dude.  He’ll be out in a week-$Ka-Ching.  During the course of the week, we get to visit with our Up north buds, and even had a fire in the fireplace, as its 36 degrees one night.

Back in Jacksonville, the air conditioner is not fixed.  More calls, more dancin’ around, they say that the unit is backordered from the distributor.  Got a bad feeling about this (see “bad experience in Marathon.”)  I call the distributor, yeah; he has ONE in stock-What the heck?  Okay, I ring up a dealer in JAX, and he can’t really recommend a good repair guy in town.  Hmmm.  Time to let my fingers do the dialing.  There’s a commercial refrigeration repair guy right down the road so I give them a ring.  Couldn’t be nicer on the phone-Can I wait ‘till this afternoon?  Sure, only problem is we’re leaving on Sunday.  Well……….  Mike arrives at 1130, and by 1145 he has found a burned out overheat sensor on the compressor.  He doesn’t have one on the truck, and doesn’t have time to get one from the distributor, as we’re leaving in 2 days, so he takes a picture with his cellphone, sends it to the office, and tells me that they’ll check around town with their suppliers to see what they can do.  As he headed out, he told me that he might be a while, ‘cause it was almost lunchtime, but I could be assured that he’d return, as he was leaving his tools on the boat.  Long story short, while I was running some errands, Mike returned and the unit was blowin’ cold when I returned-$230 pesos.  Thank-You, Ladies and Gentlemen.  2 for 3 on predatory repair guys in Florida.  I may lose my faith-so glad we have Scottie on our 6 most of the time.  Meanwhile, I installed the new fan/heat exchanger for the diesel heat in our room.  The old one had been drip, drip, dripping for the last couple of months, but we weren’t in one spot long enough to have one shipped from Vancouver, and we haven’t exactly needed heat.  While at Ortega, we made some nice new friends, Gary and Debra, our next door neighbors who live in Jacksonville and use their 42’ SeaRay as a getaway.  After having a farewell breakfast with them on Sunday, the 31st, we fired up the Girl and headed out.  A couple miles down the river, I noticed that we were burning 3.5 gal/hr (as opposed to 1.9), and the engine workload was around 50% (as opposed to 30%).  Usually when this happens, there’s something, like rope or a crab trap hanging on the prop or the bottom of the boat.  Running the boat in reverse for a couple hundred yards generally ditches whatever’s hanging on.  No dice.  Call Scottie real quick.  “Dude, you’ve been in a marina for what-3 weeks?  You probably have sh&%t growin’ all over your bottom and prop.  Dive that bee-och!”.  Anchor down, SCUBA on, putty knives and scrapers in hand.  Diving in the tannin colored St Johns River not my cup of tea. (Pun intended)  Lord!  What a crop of barnacles and growth.  An hour and a half later, we’re on our way again, runnin’ cool after an inauspicious start.  Like I said.  Good thing Scottie’s got our back.  We still had the ebbing tide sucking us out to the ocean, so it was a nice 3 hour trip to the inlet and on to sea, where we’d spend the next 45 hours enroute to Bald Head Island, NC (Newfoundland is 1400 miles away, and Lauren and Bill are waiting for us-Giddyup).

-Hasta Luego 

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