Here we go again...

It's 5.30pm, high water was about an hour ago and yet the water continues to rise...we're in the middle of, yet another, winter storm and the NW wind blowing around 35knots with, apparently, possible gusts of 45 knots from the NW. The worst direction in Scott's Creek and a chop has built up which will probably increase as the tides tries to ebb.

Bee working her way back down the jetty...

 Bee has just leapt off the boat in her wellies to collect a parcel our friend Cary has been expecting. The UPS driver was alarmed to see the wild haired woman trying to run through the water that has already risen above the jetty... and couldn't work out why anyone would be coming from that direction in this weather....

As luck would have it we have both the Carrie B and a local ferry in alongside us. Unfortunately the jetty they're on is really only long enough for one vessel so the Carrie B has about a third of its length against the jetty whilst the rest remain in limbo. Lets hope both the jetty and their lines hold or this place is going to look like a skittle alley.

I think it'll be a long night.

But it has been quiet and restful, well perhaps not for this fish. At the moment the top of this piling is struggling to stay above water as it continues to rise.

Redbird and Hannah side by side, a bygone era

Here’s to absent friends........

 The last log of 2009, 9 years and who knows how many words since we started on this life...?

After a couple of weeks in Belfast we needed

to be moving south if we were to avoid the colder weather that hangs around at that time of the year and we duly said yet another bunch of very sad goodbye’s to friends even though we knew we’d be back in  May to catch up with folks before pushing north.

We had a quiet few days and then sheltered for a few days to avoid a blow. The following day as we prepared to head out we heard a yacht talking to the coastguard about the possible need for a tow. As they were only 4 miles away we called and said we’d come down and see what we could do. On arriving it seemed their engine had packed in and where they were anchored was surrounded by shallows etc. We crept in, got a line to them and made ready to leave. For some reason he felt then was a good time to let us know he was an Episcopalian minister and we wondered if he was about to launch into a sermon but no, it was a conversational piece it seems... Once clear he decided that rather than tow him to wherever it was (against the ebbing tide and into the wind..) he’d sail for his home port and as we’d heard about a very sheltered, if a little tricky to enter, anchorage near to there, we followed suit.

 The Basin, as our anchorage is called, was everything we’d been led to believe. A tight, shallow entrance coupled to a fast running tide gave us an interesting 15 minutes or so. Inside was much larger than we’d imagined but sheltered and empty. A couple of days later with a strong favourable forecast we left for Provincetown (P’town)... Of course the weather hadn’t heard the same forecast we had so didn’t follow the rules and as evening came round we looked for an alternative to a night spent drifting......

The harbour we chose was about a dozen miles away and as we closed and began searching for the buoyed entrance the thought struck us that the chart we were using hadn’t shown the light characteristics. But that’s because there weren’t any to show as we realised when the buoys failed to show up.

Provincetown and the Pilgrims Monument

 We crept as close in as we dared but with night on us and no way of establishing the entrance we turned away to continue a drift through the night for P’town. Luckily even with the little wind there was we still managed to get the self-steerer to work  and so it wasn’t the purgatory it might have been. Crossing the shipping lane and fishing fleets  was interesting but like most things we survived them and with some desperate motoring we crept into P’town harbour about 10pm.

Onwards to the Cape Cod Canal, through and anchored in Pocassett Harbour where a friendly passing boat invited us to use any mooring buoy.  They were taking their boat to be hauled as they sold her that day after an ownership of 30 years and at 70+ years old felt they might need something a little easy to handle.  A few days later we had a leisurely breakfast and headed off down Buzzards Bay toward our destination of Block Island. In retrospect we wondered what the hell we were doing dawdling around over coffee and toast when we had 60 miles to do and consequently the evening saw us still with15 miles to go, a beat to finish and then a narrow entrance where it looked as though some buoys may be lit but not others.

The breakwater with high tide still to come...

 In the end we opted for Point Judith as the place had never really let us down before... We should have known things were not as we remembered when, on entering; we saw the height of the water in relation to the breakwater and thought we were at high tide. A quick check showed how wrong we were and though the tides are tiny in this part of the bay we knew that the direction the next blow was coming from would send the swell over the top. And it did giving us several days of sleep starvation to mull our leisurely breakfast.

The journey down to the Chesapeake was started with a favourable 3 day forecast and the first 24 hours lived up to hopes as we bowled along making enough progress to commit ourselves to doing the trip in one hit. Of course once the decision had been made and enough hours passed so that we really were at the point of no return the weather turned foul with wind, rain and fog as we edged our way through yet another shipping lane; this time for the Delaware Bay. Naturally at this time we discovered the antennae cable to the AIS was a poor connection and we were, once more, blind.  We’ve since sorted that out so, hopefully,  it’ll be the last time it figures on these pages!

We made progress, dealing with a jib sheet that mysteriously came adrift in the night. It could have been far worse as, with a strongish breeze blowing, we could have found the jib in tatters. As it was we had to deal with a sheet wrapped around the inner forestay and the jib flapping around like a demented flag. Working together we managed to get the jib in, the sheet unravelled and everything back together again. Whilst we were at it we took the opportunity to reef and set a smaller head’l as the falling barometer heralded more poor weather which was due to head us, on the way. Before it arrived we had a period of very light winds coupled to heavy swells left over from yesterdays winds.

 We motor sailed to try and get at least past Cape Charles before the wind changed. We made it and continued our way up the Bay, this time opting to head north toward an anchorage on the east side rather than beat our way to Portsmouth. It’s an artificial harbour created by the sinking of 15 ferro-cement Liberty ships from the second war. And although it doesn’t look much it was great protection, off a nature reserve.

So the following day we headed for Pompey with a wind that didn’t really materialise in the company of more yachts than we’d seen all summer! Portsmouth is the start of the ICW (Intra-Coastal Waterway) a “channel” that runs all the way down to Florida some 1000 miles to the south. It enables boats to do the run without the need to head out to sea, in particular avoiding the Capes – Hatteras, Look Out and Fear with their shoal water and proximity to the Gulf Stream.  Our excitement mounted as we slipped along, reverting to the engine as the wind died. Turning into the channel that leads to the creek Bee hopped up onto the doghouse to check if their was a space for us.. not only a space but she could see Robin and Jac’s RV parked in the street!!. We hastily moored up, crept out onto the road and thundered on their door. In one of those bizarre coincidences they had arrived about an hour before us and we wasted no time in cracking the colostomy bags of red wine. We called Cary and Linda and despite their invalid status they too came over to join the celebrations.
Well since then we’ve settled in, R&J have gone home and we have allowed ourselves to get sucked in to working on Hannah. Though not much as in the last few weeks rain has arrived with a vengeance. A few weeks back we were told of a front coming through. Listening to the radio gave us wind strengths of 50 or 60 knots from the NE.........  well, we sort of face the NE in this slip so that was good news.

 But the Elizabeth River on which this whole place stands is open to the NE. So we listen and on the Wed. we’re told the winds could reach 70 knots and tides will be high. They got both of those right!! For 2 or 3 days we had winds so strong that the tide was unable to ebb and consequently each high tide got progressively higher.

Normally at high tide we’d have a couple of feet under the keel. Now we had close to 8. The jetty was underwater and the water was level with a hand rail that runs alongside the jetty.

Eventually the water would rise ABOVE this rail. and this is a metre above the jetty..the water normally stops a foot or so below the jetty

At its height the noise from the wind as it flattened the waves was so reminiscent of Greenland that the fear on Hannah was palpable. In some ways we felt worse as the jetty was a matter of feet from our rudder, we’d taken the tiller off to work on it some days earlier, the anchor was un-shipped and rock hard land wasn’t that from our stern. All in all a very frightening few days and we watched the storms progress across the Atlantic as it barrelled up the English Channel causing havoc. If you’re interested we use (when we can get a connection) www.passageweather.com  The “front” casually mentioned turned out to be a downgraded Hurricane Ida now relegated to a Tropical Storm...oh the joys of the east coast USA.

So that’s about it. Got a couple of web sites to share with you. You may remember the blog we gave you before called Boxes and Bellows. Run by Andrea from the wonderful Island of Lewis. She has started charting the progress of a crofter near to where she and Eve live. Not only are the photos excellent but she has a humorous writing style. So the new site is        http://islandcrofters.blogspot.com

Lastly some great friends of ours in Monroe, Maine have a bought a farm. Not just any farm either but one that requires a HUGE amount of work, will be run organically and looks as though they will have the time of their lives. The blog is called http://northbranchfarm-monroe.blogspot.com

And finally; many, many thanks are owed to dozens of folks who have kept us going through the years. We think of you often.

Enjoy your festivities, keep the wine flowing as we do – the rice and raisin wine we knocked out when we got here is particularly good this time and we’ll write again early next year.

I suppose you think this is funny...?

New York, New York……

 
What can we say about New York that hasn’t been said and written before? Well it took us a while to get there, involving a number of stops as winds were either too heavy, too light or from the wrong direction. We left Newport for Point Judith, the Harbour of Refuge between Long Island Sound and Buzzards Bay where we anchored for a few days. It was on the second day as we were idly listening to the VHF and the USCG and a yottie struggling to make sense of something or other that we heard a slightly hysterical “Mayday, Mayday” cut across the CG. A 42’ fishing boat with a lop-sided load was taking on water and the skipper had got everyone into survival suits whilst they attempted to stabilise the boat. The USCG took the particulars and put out a call for near-by vessels to assist until the CG boat arrived. Minutes went by and several boats indicated they were steaming to assist, including a tug pushing a huge barge. The fishing boat skipper came back on to tell the CG he had it under control and the tug skipper radioed to say he had arrived on scene. More minutes past and the CG came on to tell the tug that the CG boat would be arriving in 8 minutes or so and it was then the tug skipper came on to tell the USCG that the fishing boat ..”was going, it had begun to turn over and there were three bodies in the water, all swimming away from the sinking boat….” We were listening to this with horror as this was happening a little more than eight miles away on a day with winds of 25 knots max with seas of possibly 3 feet. Luckily everyone was picked up and came into Point Judith some time later but we felt very emotional about the whole thing and had us thinking about survival suits etc. The star of the whole thing was the tug skipper who manoeuvred his barge to protect the vessel from the breaking seas and offer some shelter to the crew once they’d abandoned ship. His radio communications were calm and very professional. Should it ever happen to us let’s hope someone like him is about.
And so into Long Island Sound and the slow movement westward toward New York. We enjoyed the time in there, not least when we heard the name “Blackthorn”, Robin and Jackie’s boat on the VHF. We called them up but later realised they were 30 or so miles behind us and we’d heard Towboats US talking to them with a powerful transmitter regarding the entry into Mystic. (That’s a harbour not a spiritual destination). We tucked up for a few days and then on a day with little wind we had a half-hearted attempt at calling them ourselves and were shocked to hear them respond. With one of those quirks of coincidence we had called as they were passing a few miles to seaward of us and on their way to a nearby anchorage. We headed out after them and have had the pleasure of company for the last few weeks. Returning to the USCG and rescues for a moment - it was the Sound that we heard the coastguard inform a searching CG boat that the person they were looking for had last been seen in the water…”opposite Billy Joel’s house….”
The entrance into New York from Long Island takes you in via the East River and where Harlem River joins it, is an area known as Hells Gate.

As ever with Pilot Books the warnings are stark and certainly if you were daft enough to attempt to motor against it then it would a very long journey as the tide runs at anything from 3-6 knots but it was, for us, fine and both boats cruised along on a misty morning with the southern end of Manhattan opening up alongside us. Building spotting became the pastime of the moment as we tried to identify the more famous ones….which in our case ended after the Empire State building as the rest just seem huge skyscrapers.

 Which isn’t to say it isn’t inspiring; and then as we almost reached the end of the river we caught our first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty, beckoning us toward our anchorage for the night. This city really is remarkable in that, as we crossed a very busy harbour with ferry boats going every which way and taking no prisoners, we knew we were going to anchor behind one of the worlds most famous landmarks. For free!

 And so it was; true the channel is narrow and, for us, shallow, particularly at low water but as we dropped the hook and the sun set we could clearly see the head, shoulders and raised arm bathed in spotlights.
The following day we had intended to cruise up river to pick up a buoy at the 79th Street Marina but as it was foggy decided to stay put. But on Sunday, November 9th we pulled out into the harbour with Blackthorn on a beautiful sunny day. We cavorted around the Statue to get photos of each other and then began

raising sail to potter the 7 miles up to the marina.
We had the whole river to ourselves, the sun gleamed, buildings sparkled and Manhattan couldn’t have looked finer and many photos were taken as we took in the sights of this incredible city.

 Of course the whole time here I could hear Rodgers and Harts wonderful “Manhattan” playing in my head…… even though most of the buildings you see here are actually in New Jersey…..
The anchorage behind the statue is on the New Jersey side and you needed to take a ferry to Manhattan in order to get amongst it but the marina rents out mooring buoys for $30 per night and it’s a 15 minute walk

to Central Park from there. With showers and free washing machine it’s a great place to explore the city and we wandered through Central Park, Times Square and back.
Unfortunately the current in the river rips along so timing is everything when getting from the boat to the shore and back.

 Whilst we enjoyed the brief time we had, we much preferred the solitude of our Liberty anchorage so the following day, leaving Robin and Jackie to try and locate the camera they’d mislaid and enjoy the town we headed back. And ran aground in the entrance trying to get in too early but heh, no big deal.
We got off about an hour later and rowed ashore to explore a little of Springsteen’s home town – a local trucking company has lines from his songs emblazoned on the cab doors and found ourselves fascinated by a wood pulping company’s operation we viewed from a bridge. Took some photos and wandered on. A mile or so later we were “accosted” by a guy in a truck who asked what we were doing taking photos of the wood yard. He accepted the explanation but it left us feeling a little uncomfortable.

 The last part of New York we’d decided would be to go down to Coney Island where, we believed, it was possible to anchor and then catch the “subway” into town. We set off but were soon overtaken by a USN aircraft carrier with its escort of Police and USCG as we were picked up by the ebbing tide and rushed away from the skyline. Working our way round the south side of Coney, crossing very shallow water we slid into Sheepshead Harbour to find it very crowded with moored boats and I felt we’d need to look for an alternative. But spotting a figure working on a mooring barge, Bee leapt into the dinghy and rowed over to ask him where a good place to anchor might be. She came back saying the anchorage was at the far end but the guy said we could use one of the club buoys, as could Blackthorn who had heard us on the radio and were only a mile or so behind us. Not only did we get the use of the buoy but he gave us a key to the club-house giving us access to the internet and showers!

 In the end whilst we didn’t use the buoys as they weren’t suitable for heavy boats we thoroughly enjoyed the hospitality, the friendship and great advice. So, Coney Island –it’s a great place to get into Manhattan and we did , wandered around the streets, visited Grand Central Station and a wonderfully ornate Central Library. Unlike R&J and Pete & Lucia (now sadly, for us, back in England) our ability to take in the sights is minimal so whilst we can say we’ve been to NY we certainly haven’t seen much of it. But the following day Irving, our man from the mooring barge, ran us down to the Boardwalk area of Coney Island. I’m making an assumption here that the Drifters song “Under the Boardwalk” is based on this area but what it doesn’t mention, probably because they hadn’t yet arrived, are the amazing Russian shops. Carousel, hot dogs and French fries in abundance though and we managed to sneak a plate of chips in Nathans, an apparently “World Famous” for its Hot Dogs. World Famous in this case should be taken in the same context as “World Series” i.e. it’s something known or played only by Americans. Having said that, the chips were pronounced a winner by Bee, who considers herself an authority on said potatoes.

 Shops full of the most incredible foods and beers (the ones we were interested in anyway) they stretch along a main street with a huge variety of smaller stores between them. Apparently Russians began arriving about 20 years ago and settled the area as it reminds them of Odessa. In that time they have carved out significant lives for themselves as retailers; property developers and more. We loved the area and rated it as one of our favourite experiences.

 As we walked back from this trip we came across a Holocaust Memorial Garden. Simply done with granite “boulders” they carried names of individuals or background information on the death camps. It seems, to me at any rate, that no matter how well known the facts are to you, seeing something as physical as this is still very moving.
But time was moving on and we needed to get ourselves heading south, away from Coney, Brooklyn and this very friendly yacht club. They keep themselves to themselves, are very down to earth with no airs and graces but if you happen to fall in with them you’ll count yourself very lucky. And no, we’re not telling you the name of the club.

With a favourable forecast we all felt we could either do the 270 mile trip to Norfolk in one hit or, as was more likely if it proved very cold, we’d stop in Cape May on the edge of the Delaware Bay. We kept close to shore as we sailed south but that afternoon the winds became very light and with the forecast of a 40 knot blow for the following day we both motored to keep the speed up. Along this coast there are very few places you can creep into, especially with a deep draft boat, so we kept on through the night. In the distance we could see a glow of a city and as we drew closer the inevitable skyscrapers could be distinguished and then we stared in amazement at buildings alive with laser light shows and more. We were passing Atlantic City, home to Trump Towers and a well known gambling city (although not to us as we only realised this when listening to the local radio station) Onward we crept and 22 hours after setting off we motored up the harbour entrance with the tide flooding and into a very shallow anchorage. It blew that day and later on we watched as huge black clouds worked their way out to sea from south of us. Had we carried on we knew that it would have been a wet, windy and very uncomfortable ride. Luck was with us.
Couple of days later headed out for the longer leg down to Norfolk, Virginia but first had to cross the shallows outside the harbour where wind over tide combined with the shallows to produce steep breaking seas. Bee, who was on the foredeck sorting out a headsail, said she’d never been swamped by such seas since Greenland so we weren’t very happy. Luckily it was only about 10 miles across so we eventually cleared it and settled down for what we all knew was going to be a cold day and a colder night. Speeds were good, rarely dropping below 5.5 knots and we rejoiced in the fact that at this rate we’d be into the yard by early morning. We should have known better….. In the early hours of Friday morning it began to drizzle which rapidly turned to snow and life was miserable. (Remember this when you imagine us lolling around in the heat, sipping chilled drinks…)But things pass and we arrived off Cape Charles with a wind that was fading and threatening to head us. Although we have only entered the Chesapeake once before it left a scar; the town of Norfolk and Portsmouth lie about 30 miles from the entrance and its hard work getting there. This time we’d arrived off the entrance with only an hour of favourable current and so faced a long slog. We motored to clear the bridges and then set about sailing the remainder. Blackthorn wisely chose to push on as another band of low pressure was coming through but we played at sailors and beat back and forth until a wind shift put us the wrong side of a shallow bank and we came to our senses and motored to get clear and a better angle on the wind. However the wind now began to pick up and all the while a huge aircraft carrier was working its way up the bay escorted by Coastguard vessels. The CG were hailing small boats in its path and informing them that they must maintain a distance 500 yards under penalty of death or worse and eventually they hailed us. “Was this the best speed we could produce”? and “You must be prepared to clear the channel to enable the Dwight D Eisenhower to pass” As we were sailing at over 6 knots we thought that this was a nerve but we cleared the channel anyway then hove to whilst putting in another reef and then watched with ill-concealed annoyance when the carrier was manoeuvred into its dock astern of us and nowhere near to our position. We called the CG up, cleared with them, moved off, met up with Blackthorn already at anchor but agreed that we’d head onto the yard where Cary had offered us berths. Cary, you may remember, is the owner of Red Bird, the boat we’d worked on in the summer. Then the yard was a haven of tranquillity, but now the wind kicked up a chop and reversing into the piles would be a real trial with a strong wind from the beam. It went well enough to begin with but before long no amount of manoeuvring could prevent the bow blowing off and we found ourselves up against the piles. A struggle ensured but, with some judicious advice from Joe and Cary we managed to get in to the berth. Robin and Jack wisely chose to await a calmer moment before they reversed into the next door berth as they had our bowsprit to contend with as well as the stiff wind.
So here we are with a few days to go before R&J also head back to England/Ireland for a few weeks. We’ll stay on here a little longer before heading down the ICW to avoid the various Capes that lie between here and, hopefully, better weather.
Dec 12th A short update; last week we ran the engine to charge the batteries and heard an ominous rattling noise…. To shorten the long tale we removed the gearbox to get to the drive plate and found the input coupling had parted. A call to Greg in Belfast Boatyard started the ball rolling and within days we had a replacement, thanks to Alex and Howie, on its way from Herts. via California to here. As yet we still don’t know why it happened but will let you know. I can’t believe the problems we have had with this set up and wonder if the gearbox and drive plate are up to the hours we put in. Any ideas out there?    

Updates! We need updates…………!!

OK this may be a difficult one to write ‘cos, as several people have written to say, it’s been a long time since the last update. Much has happened and we’ll try to remember the bits that are interesting.
Most of the journey up to Belfast, Maine was stop-start as the promised wind either failed to arrive or blew far harder than was forecast. However we left you in Georgetown, S. Carolina where we stayed for a few days. The town is, I think, where the American Civil War started so Confederate monuments abound and the main street leading from the harbour has some lovely old houses.
Listening to the tour boats go by as we lay at anchor it seems obvious that many residents still think the war is being fought as references were regularly made about “….them damn Yankees…” but otherwise it was almost like being on a film set as mom and pop would drive up to the baseball pitch and unload junior who would saunter into the field and play some junior league game. We also met a couple who had been building a two masted, steel schooner for the last 20 years and it was still unfinished. At 67 he realised it was now too big for him to handle and he was getting to old and frail to handle her anyway. Each of the four boats he had built had been designed by an architect and none of them looked like the drawings provided. The schooner was no exception as it now had 3 masts, needed an additional 6,000lbs of ballast and he had raised the booms to ensure that any passengers would have clear headroom below them. Unfortunately the booms were now some 9’ (almost 3m) above the deck and there was no way to reach them to reef. Wandering the boat with him was quite sad really as it became obvious that many of the ideas hadn’t been thought out and the boat wasn’t very seaworthy. Make a nice floating home though……..

We left Georgetown and anchored outside before heading out to sea to clear Frying Pan Shoals. We’d met up with an American boat heading our way who thought the forecast we’d heard was for 20 miles offshore rather than inshore so the forecasted 35 knots of wind was not something to concern our selves with……………..
Nevertheless we decided that rather than head onto Cape May, several hundred miles north, we’d turn for Wrightsville and then a few hours later changed our minds again and headed for Beaufort. The reasons are varied but the former is surrounded by shallows and probably not an entrance to approach in a blow whilst the latter promised an “all weather entrance” We carried on. The wind and waves increased and about 20 miles from Beaufort we raced through a US Navy flotilla, apparently sitting at station but going no where. The radio crackled. A USN ship was calling us as, deeply reefed, we were thundering through the seas. “Were we ok as we appeared to be disappearing beneath the waves”? We assured them we were fine and everything was normal but thanked them for their concern. “Was there anything they could for us…….” Well, if they weren’t doing anything it would be nice if they could shadow us to ease the seas……………” We missed the first part of the reply as the loudspeaker erupted in laughter before, eventually; a voice said that unfortunately they couldn’t do that. Ah well.
We headed on for Beaufort, working out that we would get there with a few minutes of favourable tide to help us through the entrance. By now it is dark and the winds and seas are building from the beam. The entrance, narrower and longer than we realise is difficult to spot in the breaking seas. We pick up a pair of channel buoys and drop the jib leaving Hannah to roar on under double-reefed main and stays’l. We start the engine in case we need it and approach the channel. Through the first set of buoys but struggle to see the next mark. “Got it” as Bee sees the all important port marker. We crash on. And then glancing over my shoulder, Bee sees the black cloud to end all black clouds - from sea level to who knows how many hundred feet high- approaching very quickly and with enormous power. The squall hits us, lays us over and we lose the precious windward ground we had struggled to gain. Luckily the engine is running as its power allows us to keep in the channel or close to it as shallows lay either side. At one point it seemed touch and go and I asked Bee to contact the Coast Guard and let them know where we were. A pointless exercise as they assumed we were through the channel or… well who knows what. As we approached the actual entrance the tide had turned against us and we struggled to get through the narrows with the tide running at 3+knots. Anchored off the coastguard station where we stayed for several days, including one where we had a huge thunderstorm and the CG spoke of “nickel sized” hailstones followed by a tornado…… It was an interesting few days as we watched this parade of boats heading in or out but always en route to a marina rather than an anchorage.
Wed 21 May. Time to move on and with a bit of a decent breeze as we needed to head south to clear a headland before turning north. We motored south, watching a helicopter guide a stranded, but now re-floated tourist boat, back into deep water before rounding Cape Lookout and heading onwards. The forecast came in on Navtex indicating that the wind was going to increase and slightly head us. The usual debate followed as we tried to decide what might be the best option. We decided to carry on but spent several days drifting as winds failed or headed us.

Portsmouth Olde Towne

 The weather turned cooler, our average speed began to fall and we conceded that we were not to make Maine in one hit after all. The Chesapeake Bay called and we headed toward it as the forecast started muttering about strong northerly winds. We reached the entrance to see a parade of ships in a line leaving the bay. Now we knew this was a busy area but eight leaving at once was more than we needed and the thought came to us of how busy was New York going to be… Half an hour later as no bearings had altered between us and the ships we realised that we were looking at an anchorage and we relaxed. It’s a long way from the entrance to Norfolk and we finally got to an anchorage about 8pm on Sat 24 May, 249 miles from our last anchorage. Reminded us of anchoring off the container docks in Southampton. The following day we motored a little way down river to anchor between the towns of Norfolk and Portsmouth and discovered a small community of, mainly, ICW transitees. But amongst them lay the 114’ Baltic Trader “The Ring Anderson”.

Baltic Trader "Ring Anderson"

Baltic Traders have long been my favourite small ship and to see one so close and far from home spurred me to exchange greetings as we motored past on our way to the fuel dock. We fuelled up, filled our water tanks and bought ice. As we squeezed the last few litres into our water cans we were approached by a smartly dressed couple and the guy began quizzing us on our rigging. Who had served it, when was it last tarred, was it done with the mast up or down? We should have realised that the questions were not idle interest  but that he was sizing us up for the job of doing the same on his boat. He had a few slips around the corner, could arrange a shower and were we interested in doing when we had time. So we said we’d look at it in a few days, got the directions and headed back out to the anchorage where I wasted no time in rowing across to “the Ring” and blagging my way aboard. The boat had been bought by an American/Thai couple with 3 kids who hoped to sail her to Thailand. With little experience they were struggling to make sense of all the lines and tentatively asked whether I could help. Is the Pope a catholic……………? and so began a very satisfying, tiring and at times frustrating period as we gave them help, sorting out lines, dragging out sails and setting them. It would have been easier on a gaff rigged boat but the boat had been converted to a Bermudian rig in the eighties and had all the attendant gear of a flash charter boat. Much of it was no longer working or even completely there but we found boxes of blocks, ropes and wire and with little to go on except out of date drawings and very small photos we got most of the stuff done. The boat attracted a lot of attention and we tried to recruit other sailors into giving us a hand, mostly failing until we had got to a point where we could possibly take her out sailing and then suddenly we had a full crew and away we went! All in all it took a couple of weeks of hard work to get the boat to the sailing point and it was a great feeling as we headed up river and slowly got some of the sails up. As if this hadn’t been enough we’d also been round the corner doing the rigging on a small square-rigger at a great little yard.

Initially we’d been asked to tar the rigging (teak decks!! Lordy lord) but it obviously needed serving before we got to that state so that’s where we began. The following day it rained and I lay in bed thankful that the rain meant I didn’t have to work as 1 day every so often is better than 2 days on the trot. A bang on the hull followed by a cheerful shout indicated that Cary, our temporary employer, thought otherwise and away we went to try and get the job done.

Redbird and Hannah

 It took 3 or 4 days and then we were offered more jobs and it looked like things could be getting out of hand so we made our excuses and left for the anchorage and the Ring. But having got all that sorted, rescued a boat that had dragged through the anchorage and stopped a few feet from us, watched a parade of sail and chatted with various passing boats we bade our farewells to Richard and Pin off the Ring and headed out. I forgot to mention that they were very keen on us taking the boat to Thailand with them as we had been the only sailors who had offered any support. Well support is one thing but, even though we had looked at the raised main and mizzen and thought “They’re not so big…” we’re not exactly over-qualified when it comes to running a small ship so my reply had always been an emphatic “NO” Finally on Sunday June 8th we headed out of the Chesapeake and began the journey north. We’d decided months previously that my 60th birthday would be spent amongst the folks of Belfast but even with superb winds there was now no chance of that happening. It was spent dodging fishing boats, drifting or motoring our way out of trouble. Daily mileages dropped to 48 and our average continued to drift downwards as winds failed to arrive. But in the midst of all this we experienced something that will remain one of the high spots of this cruising life. We’re way off shore, perhaps 100 miles or so off the coast and it’s a flat calm. Not a ripple, no swell or movement and we’re sat in Hannah looking with amazement at the stars clearly reflected in the sea. The sky itself was stunning but to see the Milky Way duplicated in this way was just magic and took our minds off the slow drift north. By the 15th our patience was wearing a little but at least we were closing on the Cape Cod Canal and rather than plug on against the ebbing current we turned and headed across it to what they call a Harbour of Refuge. In this case it was Port Judith and it’s nothing more than a semi-circular breakwater giving protection to a river entrance but it suited us down to the ground, allowing us to anchor in safety off the towns of Jerusalem and Galilee! This is the area of Rhode Island and as we set off the following morning many more boats were to be seen. We’d met Dennis in Grenada and he’d invited us to drop in and see him at his home in Martha’s Vineyard and though tempted we thought we’d do the visiting on the way back. Onwards we plugged into the canal and watched our speed pick up to 8 knots as the current took control and powered us northwards. It reminded us of an earlier time when we were heading up the coast. Our speed was a moderate 4 knots but noticing a group of sports fishing boats congregating some 400 metres to the sea-ward side of us we headed toward them. The reason being that the Gulf Stream, being warmer than the waters either side causes a massive up-swelling and fish gather to feed. On the surface long brown streams of weed can be seen marking the demarcation between Gulf and non Gulf. From our viewpoint it meant a sudden increase of speed to 7 knots as the all powerful stream took control. It is an amazingly powerful force but meanders about so unless you have access to the website and the knowledge of where it is on any given time it can sometimes be yards or hundreds of yards from where you last crossed it. Of course when the wind shifts to the north it is a place to avoid as huge seas are thrown up very rapidly. So into the canal and we emerge the other end to a darkening sky and a huge electrical storm and no wind. We drift around, get wet and then the worst of all conditions as a swell comes in from the SE and with no wind to steady us we roll around, gear chafing and legs going everyway as we stagger around. Finally my patience goes and we motor. And motor. And…well then we did get some wind – more than we needed and rushed around getting the genny and tops’l down before it hit us. But we’d misread the sky and it didn’t arrive so we sailed slowly on. Sometime in the night we switched back to motor and then out of the fog that had arrived we spotted a single white light! Something at anchor in 600’ of water? It wasn’t very probable but we slowed and moved closer. The fishing boat was still, silent, drifting and we assumed asleep but left a single light on to warn other vessels. We mused on this as we motored slowly through the night before following suit. Motoring, for us, is a chore as it requires one of us to be at the helm the whole time. In the early days we had a tiller pilot – an electronic bit of kit that steered the boat to a given course – but we were never very successful at getting it to work properly and sold it. So motoring means we go onto a 30 minutes on/30 minute off shift which sounds more desperate than it actually is. We don’t go particularly fast, about 3 knots but at least we’re moving. Once we get any touch of wind we shut down and let the sails take over and before long we’re in sight of Monhegan, Matinic and Matinicus Islands – the start of Maine as far as we’re concerned. We slid between Monhegan and Matinic, skirting the shallows and the lobster buoys,

opted not to head into and through Muscle Ridge, a narrow, rock and lobster pot strewn channel but plodded slowly on up Penobscot Bay. Bit of a domestic as we passed Rockland as I was all for stopping whilst Bee felt we should carry on. We carried on and eventually crept into Belfast Harbour at 4am in the fog. Managed to find an empty mooring buoy and tied up next to John and Mary’s boat, close friends from our last visit. We slept but were up early to make our way ashore and meet dozens of friends – most of whom looked younger but all pleased to see us as we were them. Alex T was in good form and assured us we could haul out next week. Just two weeks this time we told him. He looked but said nothing. The two weeks last time turned into 7 as we did more and more but this time we were only painting the bottom and the deck so two was more than enough……….. Onto the library, same old faces at the terminals and us still with an in-date library card. Met up with Kathy the Harbourmaster and gratefully accepted the offer of a mooring closer to the harbour. Back to the boat and moved in, then back ashore to find that Phil, another friend, was hauling his boat for a few days so we could use his pontoon berth until we too hauled!! From the farthest reaches of the harbour to alongside in 2 moves and 10 hours was just wonderful.
Well it’s now 4 weeks to the day since we hauled and we’re still on the hard. The weather has been brilliant if a little humid and we’d found an importer of the Jotun paint we used who could ship on the 7th July. In the meantime we scraped and sanded the bottom, ditto the deck and repainted the deck with a 2 pack primer, ready for the final coat and awaited the arrival of the paint. The date came and went and we eventually called to be told the shipping date was now, possibly the 18th……we cancelled and decided to use locally available paints. Bottom coating proved no problem but we hummed and ha’hed about the deck before opting for a Monourathane from Epifanes. I won’t bore you with technical details other than to say single pack onto two pack is ok but two onto single doesn’t work as the solvents in the two pack dissolve the “weaker” paints. So opting for a single pack meant we needed either to continue the trend or spend a long term removing all the single coat paint. Despite keying and preparing the surface well the new paint refused to cure and phone calls to Epifanes Technical people produced bored responses. 48 hours after we applied the paint the technical reason was “…it takes about 5 days….” When it still hadn’t cured after 8 days their response was the curing time needed 28 days and we gave up. A request for a small replacement tin was met with a blank refusal which was subsequently amended to a tin at ½ price. By the time it arrived we had had enough and spent two days scraping as much off as possible. A job that on one afternoon saw 9 people on the deck armed with scrapers and sanders, followed by a further day of orbital sanding to ensure we’d be able to get two pack to stick. A phone call to Jotun USA established that the paint we required was available from a plant in Texas for US$200….shipping would cost a further $150-200 and would arrive “sometime next week…” To over-night the product would be around $800 but we’d to organise that ourselves! We gave up, bought Pettit paint (a single pack) and got it on. Now all we need to do is sand back the anti-foul we applied -it’s time sensitive and we needed to splash within 7 days of applying – and get back in the water.
Pete and Lucia are still missing, idling about in the Chesapeake but claim they’ll be up here sometime soon whilst another English couple – Robin and Jackie are happily keeping us company as they labour on their Wylo on the other side of the local theatre and with luck we’ll all be heading for Nova Scotia after a wander around the delights of Maine.
Despite my determination not to do the Thai trip we left Norfolk with one topic of conversation. By the time we got to Maine I’d heard every facet of Bee’s argument for going and had almost accepted we’d be doing it. Needless to say many of the Mainers reacted with enthusiasm to the trip and we soon had more than enough to crew the boat. Things took a bit of a bizarre turning when we subsequently found out the boat was up for auction on eBay and the owners weren’t responding to emails. We eventually found out that they’d returned to Iowa to earn more money and had felt themselves trapped by the enormity of the task. Things have gone further down hill as the Ring is alongside but taking on water. Whatever; they were a family who were prepared to have a go and may even yet pull it off but it all looks uphill at the moment.
It’s interesting listening to the responses of the people who pass by. Aside from the many “…Beautiful boat…” we get a lot of “…but such hard work maintaining her…” Well I can understand that seeing us putting in long hours on a daily basis it appears that way but as it’s only once every two years it doesn’t seem that big a deal to us. But one of the jobs we knew we needed to do was create some sort of launch/recovery system for the anchor. We had, since we left Southampton, had to haul all 33kg of steel up onto deck using the jib haly’d. OK when the sea was flat but once we began moving about it was a case of holding everything at arms length in a desperate attempt at stopping the flukes carve chunks out of legs.

Well finally we have sorted something and Greg welded the whole thing up yesterday and we should find it all a lot easier. The only area of concern will be the momentum the anchor creates as it launches itself from the roller – whether it’ll swing back and carve chunks out of the bow rather than falling vertically into the water. We’ll let you know
Once of the earliest topics of conversation on our arrival in Maine was the forthcoming election. Everyone we have spoken to expresses the hope that the Democrat Obama will win. No surprises there but what staggered us was the number of people who mentioned, in an almost casual way, “….provided he doesn’t get shot of course….”
We’ve heard from Pete and Lucia who are happily moored somewhere in New York and loving every minute of it. They even think that city-haters like us would enjoy ourselves so, having promised ourselves we would visit sometime, we’ll probably call in on the way back south.
We were chatting to some friends and the topic got around to waste; how much is generated, how much food is thrown away. Two of the friends told us the story of how they’d been driving south and made a short detour to check out the skip that was used by a well known chocolate manufacturer. The factory and skip are opposite the local police station and “dumpster diving” as its known here is illegal. A quick look in the skip revealed boxes of chocolate thrown away; the sell-by-date had expired about 9 months previously. They very hastily began hurling as many as possible into their 4x4 before speeding away. These bars of chocolate retail for $4 each and they had just reclaimed……………………… 1100 bars! The majority of which have now been recycled to many friends around the state; none of whom have succumbed to food poisoning – more likely suffering from eating too much too soon (if our experience is anything to go by..)

Lastly, we spent a great evening with Jonathan and Chris who fed us and let us wander the land they garden. The house has long been Bee’s all time favourite so here’s a collection of dreams – hers not mine as gardening looks very much like hard work to me…but we did see the perfect “shack” for us…12’ x 16’ and essentially a room to eat, read and relax in with a simple sleeping floor in the eaves it exuded peace and quiet. Wonderful

And this from more friends- a room “knocked up” in a few weeks or so by David. It overlooks a small lake on the farm…… For those with long memories it’s where we went snow-shoeing on our last visit

On the way out to see Jean and David we pass this small waterfall. It never fails to delight and the light and water can be stunning.




Lastly. We went out to see John and Mary’s new place yesterday. They’d sold the farm and bought an RV to escape the Maine winters. John being John had a bunch of wood-working machinery he couldn’t bear to part with so decided to build a barn to keep it in….. Back home it would be seen as an extremely desirable detached property but, whilst they’re both very pleased with the result it’s seen as no big deal. Constructed over 3 floors with the basement for vehicles, the ground floor functions as a massive workshop and the addition of an attic and dormers has given them a perfect living space once it’s all insulated.

And finally. I write these last few lines on the eve of our re-launch (Friday 15 Aug). The anchor launcher has been completed and once we’re back in the water we’ll see what happens when we release the windless and the Rocna plunges free of its mount. It is offset enough to ensure the roll-bar doesn't foul the bowsprit and hopefully it’ll plummet into the sea when released rather than catch the bobstay or its momentum cause it to swing back into the hull…….-we’ll let you know, but this is what it looks like.

But whilst we were waiting for this to happen we had a conversation with a local guy, Jim Hammond who runs a diving company. Querying the length of time we were taking he looked askance when we said we’d applied for residency but seemed happy enough to have us as neighbours.

The following day we got up and the first visitor asked whether we got much mail?..............!! Peering over the edge of the boat we found Jim had expanded on our “threat” of residency and installed our very own USA Postmaster approved Mailbox (complete with red flag)….
We’ll try to keep more up to date