AND WE'RE OFF

And we’re off…

Wednesday April 22 – Saturday April 24, 2016

After many days studying the Grib files (wind forecast app), weather patterns coming this way on NOAA, weatherMaps+ and Buoy Data apps we shoved off cleanly out of the slip.  Deb at the helm, Drew managing all the lines since we have 8 lines out from boat to the dock and pilings.  The weather sources predicted 10 to 15 k winds, waves 3 to 5, clear skies and most importantly the wind shifting around from the south instead of the constant northeast we’ve had for months.  We needed it to last for 3 days with the Gulf Stream giving us another 3 knots boost of speed.

  So excited to leave and get on the water.


Going out past the working Miami docks.  You cannot see the swells that are under the calm looking water.

Well, wrong…the reality is 15 to 20 gusting 25 to 30, seas 4’ to 6’ to 8’ and lumpy.  The weather guys definitely made a poor prediction, definitely forgot to say a voyage only for “salty sailors.”  The rule to hold on with 2 hands at all times does not mean we won’t get flung around the cabin and cockpit (bruises to prove it – the telltale sign of a sailor v. powerboat owner.)  When the reality is so different from the forecast I always wonder why don’t the weather guys take a boat out and see what the seas are doing.  It’s like the weather people at home giving an incorrect weather update. I want to scream, “Look out the window!”

Deb at the helm through Fischers Island Cut and out through the narrow Miami entrance/exit. Huge waves washed over the entire bow up to the dodger as the bow sunk into the water.  Too violent to take pictures and steer.  Shawnee would climb up a wave, get to the peak, and then slam down as the wave moved through only to bury the bow again in the next wave. It slowed us to 3.5 k speed.  The waves were steep with a tiny period between them.  As soon as we sailed beyond the stone jetty we turned left, and the seas were calmer. [Mazu was safe in the aft cabin on the bed, door closed panting and shivering, her opus operandi for sailing trips. She stayed there most of the time.] 

As we motor sailed on we soon realized these seas were not going away even though the forecast said the wind would drop as we moved north over the days.  Thank goodness for my 3 + day Transderm Patch—it’s a wonder that I can read and write anywhere on the boat and not feel sick.  Unfortunately salty sailor Drew who gets through everything did get sick.  It’s like a 3 day instant diet and exercise routine when we sail “outside” i.e. on the open ocean.  The option most sailors take is the route on the Inter Coastal Waterway, ICW.

  After saying for years we don’t have adventures this time is our turn.  The waves banging over the bow knocked over our Dorade Vent, fortunately attached with wire, and untied our dock lines so Drew went out to fix that.  We both are wearing life jackets with tethers attached to the jack lines whenever anyone goes out of the cockpit.  We are wearing them all the time on this voyage of waves over the sides. Jack lines run from bow to stern and are tied on before the voyage. 

  With the boat rocking and rolling Mazu decided she had to go and jumped out of the cockpit onto the deck ready to walk to the bow.  I screamed for her to come back, and fortunately she felt the rocking and had the good sense to turn around and jump back into the cockpit.   After we put on Mazu’s life jacket and tether, Drew walked her out to the bow so she could pee once.  The rest of the time it’s been too rough to venture out of the cockpit.  I haven’t gone out at all.  

  The first night flying fish flew onto the deck and into the dinghy.  

 I am dying to go fishing and found a friend to set me up with the gear I need.  It’s just too rough.  Maybe I’ll try today.  You can see the spool of line goes up to the blue clothespin that holds the line out of the boat.  If there's a bite the line pops off the clothespin.

    On the third night as I was on watch something happened to the auto pilot and tracking navigation.  I looked at the navigation instruments at the helm and saw a cross track error of 1.87 = almost 2 miles off course.  What should I do?  Call Drew.  The wind also picked up. With the sails loud luffing, Drew took the helm and steered us back on track as the waves were bumping me all over the cockpit.   Following the captains orders I took in the jib and most of the mainsail; not easy for a weakling cranking on the winches.

 Drew later explained that the strong wind on the sail and the wave action overcame the autopilot.  The nav system with the tracking program, MaxSea, is not talking with the radar system to overlay the track or route onto the radar screen.

  Next, on the horizon we kept seeing these flashes of light like a strobe or super bright lighthouse from shore.  You can guess – lightening.  We stayed in front of it for quite a while, but eventually the thunderstorm caught up with us and torrential rains fell, cleaning off all the salt water. Nothing leaked except the dodger over the companionway in spite of 3 layers of waterproofing – more will be added when it dries out.  I slept during most of the storm and problems – not my watch.  With seas like these exhaustion quickly hits.

   We can see the squalls on the radar.  They look like big, amorphous, black blobs.  After the lightening, the navigation instruments are not working properly as the autopilot cannot follow the track for some reason. The depth sounder stopped working during this trip.  Drew wasn’t concerned – he said it will probably come back, it did.

  Of course, we have backups: paper charts, Navionics app on the ipad and Drew’s phone.  I plotted a track on the Navionics app before we left, and now, we are using it.  No backup for a depth sounder.

 Drew's phone with a close up and the Ipad with a large scale view.  We are a red blob near the top.

 

   We are down to eating only what we can grab that won’t spill and won’t require us to stand for very long in the galley: tuna fish salad, yogurt, cheese sticks, salami, ham, instant oatmeal, drinks, carrot and celery sticks, crackers and almond butter, popcorn, energy bars.  I used to get Stouffers meals to warm up but Drew doesn’t like them. I was hoping to do soup, but too easy to spill.

Saturday, the last day of this voyage finally sees the weather settle down.  Beautiful day, white puffy clouds.

Mazu comes out and is jumping up and down; tail wagging because she can walk without falling down or sliding across the floor.  She climbed up to the cockpit and looks around, still not ready to go to the bathroom. 

As the day progressed we could see a large storm ahead.    This is the entrance buoy to Beaufort Inlet Channel.  It was too rough to take pix of the event.

When we hit the line in the water 38k velocity registered on the anemometer.  1’ to 2’ waves so we just plowed through the channel to get inside.  The channel took an hour at 6k, no rain just amazing high winds.    Tiny rainbow.

We anchored at 7:45 pm just inside the Beaufort Inlet.  

We were the only boat in the anchorage next to the US Coast Guard station.

 I slept until 11:30 Sunday.
 We left Monday.   For whatever reason we emptied the water from the fuel filter, racore oil water separator.

 4 tugs on the way.

Waiting for the south wind

While we wait to go north we took the boat out.  The lines were salt-hardened into their coils around the cleats they've been there so long.  We headed out to Biscayne Bay toward Stiltsville and No Name Harbor at 6:00 pm for a short sail in 15 k of north winds.  It was perfect.

Drew at the bow coming back into Coconut Grove Dinner Key channel at sunset.

In the setting sunlight Mazu in her usual spot near the helm's seat usually touching me, burying her head in a slot.

Me in the wind at the helm.

Actual sails up : )

A loud jetski alongside with the music blaring as we turn into the marina toward our slip.

Not a whole lot to do but wait for the wind to turn and push us north and use the Gulf Stream to take us fast.  We need a full 3 days 7 hours of the wind going in that direction, but apparently the winter north winds aren't finished blowing long and hard.  3 days will get us to Moorehead City, Beaufort, NC where we'd then proceed up the ICW avoiding the treacherous Cape Hatteras seas for a week.  After we reach Norfolk, VA we sail outside again for 3 + days to Buzzards Bay, MA.

      +                  +                +                  +                      +                     +                +

I've finally got the Citi Bike machine to work, and at a high price (instead of a gym fee) I've taken a few 2 hour rides ($10).   The bikes work well, and it's fun to ride around down Cutler Rd to Fairchild Gardens or up to the market or down to Kennedy Park to workout on the outdoor equipment = 20 angled back sit-ups, hand over hand jungle gym, 100 leg pushes, and 20 pull your own sitting weight.

Activity around the marina is never ending working to ultimately finish up of the marina project:

After laying cement they sprinkle shells into the top layer, push them in with a flattner smoother long handled squeegee tool and later sandblast off the top layer to show the shells.  Fascinating to watch.

 They are also laying tile in the sand.  Each day it is difficult to find a way up to the office

with dirt and cement and caution tape and workers all over the place.

 Other than remarkable frustration at not moving for weeks on end, everything is fine.  I know we'll get out of here eventually, but I'm sad not to be going up the Potomac as we'd planned.  Another time...

Antsy

On the way home

The first step to taking Shawnee to Marblehead Yacht Club, MA by May is driving the car back to Exeter, NH, about 1,550 miles and 24 hours of driving.

ON THE WAY ...

Tuesday we visited Cumberland Island National Seashore Park in St. Mary’s, GA.  We Stayed in the River View Hotel – old western type with minimal comforts but adequate, looking out on the St. Mary’s River and ferry dock.

As we waited for the ferry I noticed signs of spring in the cycads coming up in stages.  The differences must be due to the amount of sun or water or something.  So cool to see them unfurl sort of like a fern.

STAGE 1:

STAGE  2

STAGE 3

Final STAGE

Up early for the 8 am check in for the ferry and to be assured that Mazu as ESA could have access to the ferry ride. She made it no problem.  It’s always interesting to watch the people react with, “No, leave her alone.  she’s working.” since she has her little ESA vest on.

    A woman who had been to the island before told us about bike rentals at the second docking on the island, Sea Camp Dock.  This island National Park with private homes is the place where the Kennedy’s were married and honeymooned at Greyfield Inn. It was touted to me as a must-see place for several years, especially by my garden club friends.  After the 45-minute ride we disembarked to a pine needle woodland floor and a forest of live oaks dripping long tangles of Spanish moss creating a view of twisted angled branches with a grey wash through the view.   A white crushed shell single lane path leads 7 miles north on the 15 mile island to unfurnished Plum Mansion with tours on the hour.  Amazingly Mazu was able to trot along next to the bike as I pedaled slowly without pulling on the leash to run off into the woods.  I could have biked forever in this shaded sort of spooky movie set, not unlike a rain forest with the greenery covering everything. 

 Instead of moss, ferns cover the live oak branches.  Instead of vines, the gray Spanish moss drapes down to the forest floor.   

Low fan palms prevent walking into the forest except via pre-made paths.

  There are warnings about poisonous snakes, rattlers, and ticks.  We saw none after coating ourselves with the highest deet level we could buy.

  We could only stay until 2:45 because the later ferry was full. 

 Before we left we headed to the eastern beach shore and Mazu just ran and jumped in the surf happily after her 10 mile run.  The three of us lay on the beach for a little nap and rode back to the bike rental and ferry dock.  The slightly cloudy cooler day made it perfect.

  We got back on the road north about 5 pm with the plan to stop in Richmond at a LaQuinta by 1:30 am and collapse.

 

Wednesday:  We woke up late getting a nice 8 hour sleep. Well rested makes all the difference.  Drew found Maymont, a Richmond 100 acre public garden and non-profit Foundation, the former Dooley mansion from 1893-1925. It runs on $3 million each year.  

 First, Mr. Weatherman, Drew, provided another perfect weather day at 70 degrees.  It was the peak day for the white flowered crabapple trees.  We walked in in the morning to every blossom fully open and by the end of the day the trees were snowing their petals.   

The Japanese garden is a highlight, and the entire setting has been planned like a Capablity Brown English landscape estate.  There is an arboretum of tree specimens with some of the largest I’ve ever seen:  giant River Birch, Himalayan Pine, huge multiple trunked Star Magnolias, white oak, ironwood, red buds popping out purple everywhere.  There’s a huge recirculating water fall.   

All of this on the side of the James River Kanawha Canal that runs next to downtown Richmond and its other parks.

  We walked through a small kind of sad children’s animal farm on a steep hillside with sheep, deer, goats, horses, bear, and one sad animal; a gray fox, the sign said, locked in a little coop crying and moaning.

  A nap was needed before heading north to Exeter, a 10 hour drive with less traffic by waiting until evening to start.  We plan it out by driving through DC, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and NYC in the middle of the night.  It works.  By the looks of the number of construction projects it was a good decision.  The George Washington Bridge over the Hudson was down to one lane on top – all others closed when we drove through around midnight.  We pulled into the garage about 5 am - I didn't even hear it -- I was sound asleep.  I slept walk into bed.  We fly back to Miami on Saturday.