When I woke up Friday, it was absolutely my intention to wander down the Beaufort River, turn right at Port Royal Sound and motor along the western shore of Hilton Head, with Savannah as my goal. But NOAA was predicting 15-20 from the North becoming 10-15 from the Northwest. There is no better forecast for the generally southwesterly sail from Beaufort/Port Royal Inlet to St Mary's Inlet. And I couldn't resist! An hour later the dinghy was on deck, the anchor up and KR was under sail down the Beaufort River - with a great 2kn fair current!
NOAA got it right. The passage was another "Disney Sail", fast and comfortable, and once again, my timing was right to enjoy a fair current into St. Mary's inlet. Nice.
In fact, the only problem I had was crew related - admittedly not a frequent area of concern with singlehanders.
Wilbur Windvane - on whom I depend so heavily when offshore (and who has always been completely efficient and reliable - unlike his cantankerous electronic counterpart, Otto Autohelm) - developed a "mechanical issue". Technically speaking, the latch spring was sprung which allowed the water paddle to become unlatched. When this happened, Wilbur "lost" control of the boat and it went wherever it wanted to - which was generally into the wind. I could manually re-latch the paddle and all would be well again - for a while. As it happens, I had a new and un-sprung spring in my spares locker. I installed it this morning and the "mechanical issue" is now resolved.
However, I know that the underlying problem has yet to be addressed.
In my post from Wrightsville Beach, I waxed euphoric about my new boom brake - even saying "My Gyb Easy is now my new favorite piece of gear" - in retrospect a very foolish thing to write. Wilbur must have read that line and, feeling hurt by being shoved aside so capriciously (he had always been my favorite), decided to strike back - in his signature passive-aggressive way. He steers in kind of a passive-aggressive fashion - never being particularly forceful but always getting his way in the end.
And so, throughout the passage, every time that I laid back to close my eyes for a quick nap, Wilbur would release the latch, "lose" control and KR would slowly turn into the wind. The first that I would know of it was when the sails started to flog wildly in 20kn of wind - roughly the sound equivalent of a not particularly distant artillery barrage. This is a very effective -but brutal - alarm clock. Wilbur made sure that I got no sleep for the whole passage but would occasionally let me dive deep into the early stage of a nap before violently reeling me back to the surface. Bastard.
Wilbur, I just want to say this to you: You Win!
You are and will always be my favorite piece of boat gear. That boom brake is a slacker by comparison!
I will never love another windvane.
I will never take your name in vain.
I will clean and polish you on a regular basis - and, in fact, did so yesterday. All the other windvanes are jealous of your brilliance.
Just one request; LET ME SLEEP ON OUR NEXT PASSAGE- PLEASE!
Thank you.
I am in the St Mary's area sooner than planned (I guess I am just a slut when it comes to fair winds) but will hang around and enjoy Cumberland Island before moving over to the town of St Mary's for their Thanksgiving cruisers gathering.
Best to all.
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Comments [2]
Perhaps I should Facebook. It seems that I have way too much to write about in these weekly posts.
My passage from Wrightsville down the Cape Fear River and offshore to Charleston was spectacular - Disney sailing the whole way (def: Disney Sailing - If Disney were doing sailing the winds would always be fair, 15knots and the seas not rough!). I had a fair tide down the Cape Fear, fair winds once I got out (a little fluky at first but they filled in nicely in the late afternoon), a fast broad reach all the way and fair tides at the Charleston inlet. Engineered entertainment!
Three boats all left the Cape Fear at the same time - KR and I were the last in line (we SAILED down the Cape Fear - unlike the other wimps). But my anything-but-fast boat caught the others and left them in the "dust". We don't get to do that very often. I have to admit that they were only Island Packets and pretty close to KR's size so it's not like we beat a J boat, or Cape Dory 31, or anything equally impressive. Still...
The truly exciting thing that happened on the passage was that my iPod finally finished shuffling. I had started it shuffling through its 8600 songs in early June and had made it to 4600 by late August - when I forgot to charge it and had to start over. It has taken until now to complete all 8600 songs. Shuffling can be interesting. There is an amazing amount and variety of good music - current and hip (Thanks Erik), Jazz (Again Erik), oldies (Pretty much mine and Kelly's), rap (I have no idea but assume that must have come from Kirk - who else could it be?), country and folk (OK - That's mine!); as well as some not-so-good like Madonna (I know that I didn't put that on there) and others. The bizarre transitions make it fun.
I'm back to picking the music I want to hear now - can't handle the pressure!
The gray skies of Monday (when I set sail) cleared early morning Tuesday so that the last part of the passage was under a bright nearly-full moon and we arrived in Charleston as the sun rose in a cloudless sky. It has been beautiful ever since.
Charleston is not the most boat-approachable city on the waterway. Expensive marinas or marginal anchorages (really rough with heavy wind and currents) are the only way to get close to the center of town. It worked out well for me to anchor at Wappoo Creek, however. There is shopping close by and a bus that runs every 1 ½ hours to downtown. And the fare is only $.75 for us "Senior Citizens" (there is a good side to being over 55!). I took advantage of the bus and went "walkabout" in Charleston on Wednesday. I have been there before, of course, but it is fun to walk the "South of Broad" area and check out the stately (and occasionally somewhat funky) old homes.
Thursday was a (mostly) stay-on-board day. I had been dicing around with a cold and decided not to be too obsessive for a change. Of course, I did go to the grocery store and coffee shop, cleaned down below in the boat, made flan (my first attempt) and baked bread, touched up the woodwork on the toe rail and finally settled down for a nap later in the afternoon.
The highlight of Thursday, though, was dinner with Suzie and Kirby. I first met them while they were cruising on their boat in Maine 3 years ago. Since then we have re-connected in Annapolis, the Bahamas, Nova Scotia, Deltaville and now in their home town of Charleston. It is always great to see them - and fun to spend time together.
Suzie and Kirby were the guinea pigs for my first flan attempt - it was pretty good, although it probably was a bit rude to sit in the restaurant eating a dessert that I pulled out of my boat bag - especially since we asked the server to bring us spoons!
I anchored near Mosquito Creek Friday night. Three years ago, on my way south, I had stopped there to pick up some shrimp at B and B Seafood. The shrimp boil that night was memorable so I decided to do it again. As I approached the harbor, a shrimp boat passed me and headed into the dock with its catch. This is REALLY fresh shrimp. Dinner Friday night was great, as was lunch and cocktail hour on Saturday. Yumm.
Beaufort is a lovely town. I have enjoyed it during both of my previous visits. On my first visit here, the waterfront re-landscaping was well under way and clearly showed how beautiful it would be when finished and when the plantings had time to mature a bit. Now, three years later, the promise has been fulfilled. The waterfront area is pretty and pleasant as well as welcoming to visitors and locals alike. I am an especially big fan of the "porch swings" that have been installed. It seems that any time of day, there are people sitting, swinging and enjoying the view and activity.
I'll spend 3-4 days here before getting serious about moving on. I am in no hurry and there is some pestilence that will be passing through Tuesday and Wednesday - related to Hurricane Ida.
I have decided not to head to the Yucatan this winter. I had "planned" to do so and very glibly told anyone that asked that that was my plan. For the last month or so, however, I have been hedging a bit. It was becoming clear that, while I certainly could go, I would not have enough time to really enjoy it. So, I have decided on a less obsessive but equally pleasant winter in the Bahamas this year. I still want to head down to the Yucatan - Guatemala, Belize and Mexico - and, at this point, am "planning" on doing it during my next cruise which will start in the fall of 2010.
Best to all.
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I have covered over 300 miles since leaving Deltaville last Tuesday - and have logged just 2 hours of engine time! I consider such things a personal victory. True, the winds did not allow me to consider stopping at Ocracoke, Cape Lookout Bight or Beaufort but the sailing was great.
The harbor at Deltaville emptied out Tuesday morning as we all jumped on the northerly forecast to continue our trip south. The winds started NE and slowly backed throughout the day becoming NW. What started as a run downwind - wing and wing - became a fast broad reach. I honestly can't tell you when I have had such cooperative winds in the Chesapeake! Usually random wind shifts, dieing winds or, worse yet, ballistic winds creating nasty waves over the shallow bottom take some of the pleasure out of the experience. I find myself wanting to be out in the "real" ocean.
The backing winds also gave me a chance to test my newest piece of gear.
Some time ago, I had seen a boom brake advertised in a sailing magazine. Made by Wichard, it caught my attention because it looked like an oversize belay or rappel device used in rock climbing. Dead simple, with no moving parts, it struck me (an aging and no longer particularly active climber) as a really great idea. A boom brake is rigged with lines run to either side of the boat and controls the boom as it comes over during a jibe. Since accidental jibes on both legs of my voyage to the BVI two years ago caused damage, I was receptive to a solution. The alternative, rigging a "preventer" to hold the boom in position helps but can also cause real stresses to the equipment as well as the Captain.
As KR sailed directly downwind wing and wing on Tuesday (our new Wichard boom brake rigged and ready) the winds (12 knots apparent with the full main out) backed to the NW - slowly creating and increasing the risk of a jibe. I watched the situation develop and purposely did nothing. There was no better time for a test. Finally, a wave caused the boat to roll a bit more than usual and yaw a bit too much. The main sail fluttered and back winded and the boom ... simply came over from port to starboard slowly and under perfect control. With a mild thunk, the main sheet once more had control of the boom. Sweet. Made me want to jibe it back and forth a few times on purpose just for the feeling of power. It is not good sailing karma to tempt fate, however.
My Gyb Easy is now my new favorite piece of gear. It was rigged for much of the sail from Norfolk here to Wrightsville and handled another "accidental" jibe (Again I had seen the situation develop and purposely let it happen) as well as one that I did on purpose (with a reefed main in 20kn apparent) as we rounded the shoals at Cape Lookout and reset our course for the final 70 mile leg of the passage.
After spending Tuesday night in a slip in Little Creek near the southern terminus of the Bay Bridge, I got under way around 10:00 Wednesday morning. The forecast was amazingly good for the voyage - very scary, that. It almost guaranteed that the forecast was going to be significantly wrong. And it was, but not horribly.
I had every sail and combination of sail rigged at some time over the next 48 hours and I saw winds from as little as 7kn to near gale force of 33kn. But the winds were always fair. The forecast bright clear skies for Thursday and Friday became heavily overcast with almost constant mist. The sailing was good, however.
Late Wednesday afternoon, the winds diminishing and had clocked enough that I could no longer engage both the jib and the main. Sailing with just one sail was going to be brutally slow. The choice - start the engine or set Jennifer the Gennaker. It was going to be dark in two hours and I have seldom flown the kite on passage - never after dark. I really did not want to start the engine, however.
It was a beautiful evening of calm winds, absolutely clear skies and a bright, slightly over half, moon. I laid back in the cockpit and watched large and colorful Jennifer (in sepia tones) flying nicely and pulling us along at an average of 4 knots. It was so perfect, I buried the time-speed calculations that my engineer brain kept doing automatically. It was going to be a long time at sea with over 200 miles to go and the boat moving slowly.
Jennifer flew until 2:00 that following morning when I saw a thin line of clouds pass overhead in the otherwise clear night sky. While idly contemplating the meaning of the clouds, I felt the first wisp of the predicted strong northerly wind. I snuffed Jennifer immediately and 15 minutes later was up to 6 knots under reefed jib and main in winds over 20 knots of wind.
I saw a few ships well out to sea, only one other sail boat (a go-fast boat that quickly passed me by) and a few pods of dolphins (none of which stopped to play - bummer) but not much else in the gray, misty conditions. When the Carolina coast came into view when still 5 miles out, the theory that the GPS was accurate (and that I therefore knew where I was) was proven true.
I had set out from Norfolk with the hope of finding perfect conditions to attempt entering the Ocracoke Inlet - the forecast made it seem possible. Not only were conditions not perfect but in fact nothing was right. The Ocracoke Inlet is a "fluid" situation. Every storm changes the channel so charts are worthless and even the buoys (which the Coast Guard moves frequently) are more of a suggestion than an absolute. For a boat with a 5' draft, you need to time your attempt to a rising tide, with perfect visibility (overhead sun is best) and not too much wind. I had none of the above so continued on towards Cape Lookout.
The forecast had indicated that the winds would clock to easterly by the time I cleared the extensive shoals off Cape Lookout. My Plan B had been to head north to Cape Lookout Bight - a lovely seashore which I had enjoyed on an overnight cruise with Jeannie and Paul a few years ago - and spend a few days there. Since the winds were still mostly from the north (maybe a little NNE) and blowing over 25kn, Plan B was not possible. Plan C - which was to head NNW to Beaufort - was equally dead for the same reason.
So it was on to Wrightsville Beach - which was fine with me. My only concern - if the forecast continued to be wrong and the winds stayed strong (particularly if the they came more easterly) the Masonboro Inlet might become too dangerous to attempt.
The winds moderated somewhat around 5:00am and they stayed Northerly. No problem with the inlet. I was definitely ready for a nap, though.
I'll wander down the ICW from here tomorrow and anchor in Southport near the entrance to the Cape Fear River. There is a good window forecast for the jump to Charleston either Monday night or Tuesday (Notice the power of positive thinking in that last statement? Particularly since I have been dissing the forecast throughout this whole post.) It will be an easy overnight and I can avoid the bouncy stuff by staying in close to shore. Let it blow.
Best to all.
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