Walkabout

The effect of sailing is produced by a judicious arrangement of the sails to the direction of the wind.
William Falconer

First of all let me thank everyone who read, followed or commented on this travel blog, you forced me to keep at it. If it gave any of you some pleasure I am fully compensated.

My wife, partner, editor and sailing companion Jeanne promised me that we would at least take our sailboat Walkabout to the Bahamas when we retired. We did that trip in 2010 returning home in 2011, an eight month stint that we made a ton of mistakes on and somehow were forgiven because we got home in one piece. After that Jeanne agreed we could do a longer Caribbean voyage but, as we were about to start it in October 2012 she fell and broke her kneecap. We had to wait a year before she was well enough to leave in September 2013.

It's been a year and nine months that Walkabout has been away. Now that we're back, what, if anything, have we learned?

You cannot meet the people we met unless you cruise. That is where they are. Not a normal one in the bunch, just the most amazing folks you could ever imagine. Around-the-world sailors, Atlantic passagemakers, the guy who built his own yacht and now lives on it year 'round and doesn't go home even when his grown kids nag him (he's eighty-five). Consider the couple (also quite elderly) still at it on their Oyster 48 even if he, an ex-Broadway actor, needs constant medication. Rich people, not so rich (but-who-cares?) people, all of them in love with living on a boat, cruising up and down the island chain, staying warm. And doing it over and over, year after year.

Friends we made. Peggy and Rick French, brave Texans on Vision Quest, we followed them from the Bahamas all the way to the Windwards and had some great times. Elizabeth and Stan on Windwalker who got us off on the right feet. Hilda and Mike on More Mischief who helped us when we really needed it. Dennis and Arlene on Tiger Lily II for keeping track of us and providing needed support and guidance. Carol and Mike on tiny sailboatTyrant, trans-Atlantic sailors who drove us all around Grenada. Ed and Dorothy of Prism for their help, insight and wry humor. Dana and Kai from Evantyr, talented young folks who guided us on the Grenadian Hash hikes. Jessica, Danny and Victoria all living on their boats, it was grand fun to have met you. Lorraine and Phil on Changes who were good companions to us and gave us so much entertainment. Keep in touch, love you all.

We lived by the weather. The routine starts early, six AM for Chris Parker's wind and sea forecast on the single sideband radio, then at seven-forty-five for Friends of Dennis' inter-island report which we called in on at every opportunity. And the radio nets at eight and eight-thirty to get local weather and security news and to report where we were. It's some comfort to let others know where you are.

It took us awhile to get used to sailing offshore at night but sometimes it is the only way to safely get into a harbor in the daytime. Truthfully, it's not so bad if you have planned around the weather with care, leaving your anchorage late one day and arriving after sunrise at another is better than hanging offshore for hours or being totally incompetent and going in in the dark. We did not attempt longer than two-night passages but we made a number of those, mostly along the US east coast avoiding the more frustrating stretches of the ICW.
Sailing amounted to only ten percent of the total time we spent traveling, the rest was either motoring or motor assisted sailing. But the ratio of satisfaction when sailing was 9:1 over when we used the motor.

Cost? Well, there's a question. You can't put a value on the experience - but Jeanne, the bookkeeper has: In twenty-two months we spent $1700 on average each month give or take. That was within budget and we were lucky, having no breakdowns of any consequence, and we live modestly. Now that doesn't count what was spent before we left preparing the boat for cruising. I won't go into that but I can say it wasn't enough, we could have used a number of things that I was just too cheap to buy.

Favorite equipment: Our Rocna anchor, dragged only twice. Garmin GPS, best charts ever. Adler-Barbour refrigerator, made ice, drew only six amperes. W-H Autopilot, couldn't have done without it. Honda generator, kept the batteries charged when no sun shone or wind blew. And our auxiliary engine, a Yanmar 4JHE which just kept going and going and going.

We ate very well. There are guidebooks which tell how to stock your boat for extended travel but we found that people eat food everywhere and they buy it at their local grocery. So can you. Keep in mind it will cost more than at home but it's hot in the islands and you won't be as hungry. There are however, foods to definitely bring from home. Peanut butter for one, and canned soups. We saw small jars of peanut butter priced at $12, and their soup? Not so good. Beer from home might save you some money but it takes up space. Wine in the French islands is very reasonable as are their cheese and sausages. Fresh fruits and vegetables are everywhere. Buy them, wash them, enjoy them. Rum? Rum is good.

Our blog is titled "Not What You Expected", in reference to our observation that everything we have come across, people, places, cuisine, culture, have not been what our preconceived notions or imaginations foretold. Laugh you might, but island cruising has been written about at length, navigational charts are now illuminated in photographic detail and television has enveloped us in worldly knowledge. Still, wherever we went, whatever we saw or experienced came with a hidden surprise. Those surprises are what made our trip worthwhile.

Making it possible: The rugged Tayana 37 sailboat Walkabout, our ocean-going broad-beamed home. She kept us dry and safe pounding through bone jarring waves and gave us broad smiles while sliding over turquoise seas with her sails blossoming in the warm trade winds.

Fair Winds and Following Seas,

Bob and Jeanne Kirbach
Ira, Vermont

‎Sitting at Lock 11 This Morning


Wednesday, ‎June ‎03, ‎2015

Walkabout was the only northbound boat going through each lock on the Champlain Canal Tuesday and Wednesday. Very unusual, but it made the procedure slightly easier since we had lots of room and no one to watch us struggle. There are twelve locks in all and the elevating chambers can be very turbulent. Going north we rose in nine chambers, the roiling water swinging the boat against the concrete wall. In Lock 3, near Mechanicville, NY our mast overhanging the bow by fifteen feet banged into the wall twice but only an antenna bracket was bent. Locking down is simple as the water just drains away, the boat just floats there while you hold the slimy guide ropes.

Although we motored hard between the locks all day Tuesday delays from the GE Hudson River Dredging Project's tugs and barges kept us from getting through Lock 11 at Comstock, NY. We arrived there at 5:05. Too late!

So we tied to the South wall for the night. It was peaceful, no traffic, wildlife all around. I surprised a large beaver who was waddling along the canal wall when I went outside after our supper. He dove two meters into the canal to escape. I gave him a 4.5 for style. With the temperature that night in the forties Jeanne and I slept like stones.

Today, a perfect blue-sky day, Jeanne and I finished our Caribbean voyage motoring from Comstock to Charlotte, Vermont. Clear air, fresh lake water and green, oh so green mountains all around. It's good to be home.

Tired, and a bit dirty
Highland Landing, NY

Up The Hudson
(And down with the mast.)

‎Sunday, ‎May ‎31, ‎2015

We left NYC at five in the morning Friday to catch the flooding tide and cruised all the way to Highland Landing where, if you buy dinner at the Mariner Restaurant, you can tie your boat to their dock. We did just that; the dinner was fine, the dock a bit rickety but no strong winds were predicted for Friday night and after the noisy moorings at 79th Street we looked forward to a good nights sleep. Between speeding frieght trains which blew by once per hour we got just enough and were off again at seven Saturday morning, a bit later because of the tidal difference.
Motoring with the jib out we made six and a half to seven knots all morning getting us to Riverview Marina in Catskill Creek by lunchtime then we spent the afternoon on into the evening removing sails and finding suitable lumber to make mast cradles.
This morning I built two sturdy cradles and Riverview's very capable yard crew had Walkabout's 50 foot mast laid out on them by noon. In between bursts of cold rain this afternoon we got everything else done, lashing cables, strapping down fuel jugs, basically securing anything loose.
While she was taking down the bimini Jeanne bonked her head and sat with an icepack for an hour or so. She'll have a black and blue forehead from that. But now we are ready to continue in the morning.

Maybe we'll be back in Vermont by next weekend!

Welcome Back



‎Thursday, ‎May ‎28, ‎2015

It was the best of... No, it wasn't, but the run-down municipal marina at New York's 79th Street had a vacant mooring ball for us when we came up through the harbor yesterday. Jeanne and I had just completed the last of our ocean voyaging on an overnight, 116 mile bouncy ride from Atlantic City, NJ. This was our second long northbound leg to the Hudson River after a rest period in Portsmouth, VA of four pleasantly warm days tied to the town dock.

Farley Municipal Marina in Atlantic City gave us a face dock Monday afternoon, a blessing in the high wind, but unfortunately at the holiday rate of four (holycrap!) bucks a foot. The marina is part of the aptly named Golden Nugget casino. On the receipt is a room number but they don't change your sheets. We enjoyed the marina's hot showers (very long ones), had a fine supper in one of the casino restaurants Monday night and walked the famous boardwalk on Tuesday morning. After a large lunch at Bill's, "Sixty-five years in the same spot!" on the boardwalk and having looked intently at the ocean, we decided it would be possible to proceed later that afternoon. We got underway at five.

Out of the gate like the thoroughbred she is Walkabout charged into closely spaced six foot waves. Green water poured over the cabintop. We firmly thought that now we would have a fast sail up the New Jersey coast. For two hours that was true. The swells and wind were behind us after we cleared the outer buoys and with only a reefed main flying we were doing seven knots. But then the wind fell off to the mid-teens and we resignedly turned on the motor running it all night arriving at the tip of Sandy Hook at daybreak. As predicted, the tide was against us from there to 79th Street, a three hour push at its best four knots - an excellent speed for sightseeing.

We will stay here only a day or two. Moored out in the broad tidal river is less than comfortable but it's an inexpensive way to stay in the city, only $30 a night. The municipal marina has apparently suffered from a combination of neglect and storm or ice damage. The piers have collapsed on its northern end and many of the floating docks are coming unglued; loose boards and popped up nails can be nasty to your feet. Repairs are being done, a barge with a crane is busy pulling out broken timbers. The marina's shower is hot and the head is clean - yes, only one of each - and the attendants are friendly. Today we'll dinghy over to the big city...

BB-64

‎Thursday, ‎May ‎21, ‎2015

Never make fun of the weatherman... I had thought, wrongly, that the relatively short trip from Cape Charles to Cape May would be possible before this weekend but was told in no uncertain terms that, no it wasn't, and "good luck", if we tried. So we went sightseeing instead and will dally here in Virginia until conditions offshore get better. We considered another tour up Chesapeake Bay then down the Delaware River as an alternative route but it would take us much longer to go that way versus three or four days to get to New York and the Hudson. Today is rather ugly with a cold wind and drizzly rain, a marked change from the past few very pleasant days. Jeanne is busy making chicken soup and we're wearing fleece.

We left Deep Creek and the Dismal Swamp Canal on Tuesday morning motoring to the junction of the two ICW routes and there the guys on WIC802 Kennebec were hard at work replacing a channel marker. Two hours later we stopped at the Tidewater Marina in Portsmouth, VA, refueling Walkabout, getting hot showers and, later, supper at a pub down on High Street. Catfish, pizza and beer. Sounds horrible but the fish was mine and Jeanne had the pie. For a laugh I ordered "Sweet Baby Jesus" draft beer, and got a monster mug of an almost black, chocolate tinged brew to accompany my fried fish. Craft beer run amok. I didn't do seconds.

While walking home from supper on the brick walk along the Elizabeth River we passed North Ferry Landing and saw a long dock there that anyone can tie up to at no charge. Early Wednesday morning we left Tidewater and pulled in at the free dock. The small lagoon is well protected - only open to the East and we hope to stay here until Saturday when we may move to Little Creek which is ten miles nearer the ocean. We took the ferry yesterday over to Norfolk and toured the retired battleship BB-64 Wisconsin and the US Navy Museum, both in the mammoth Nauticus complex. Both are worth your while to see.

Jessica on her new vessel
Just kidding, DR LISA, and congratulations!

Monday, ‎May ‎18, ‎2015

For six consecutive days Walkabout has been motoring north on the ICW making as much as seventy and as little as twenty-eight miles per day. Now there are only ten miles left before we get to Norfolk, VA but today we will rest at the free dock at Deep Creek. Though there are no amenities here at all we can walk to the supermarket or a restaurant if we feel the urge. Last night we had Chinese carry-out.

The town of Deep Creek is just before the northern end of the Dismal Swamp Canal, there is a lock right next to us, it's opposite is at the south entrance and they control the old canal's depth. Presently the canal's water level is six inches lower than normal so yesterday we hit log after submerged log. They float up from the bottom, especially after power yachts churn the water up and four of them went through just before us. It's very unnerving. No damage was done we hope but I'll bet all the barnacles were cleaned off our keel.

Thursday morning after an early start from Mile Hammock, in Camp LeJeune, NC, we went aground on a shoal at Onslow inlet and had to be towed off. The incident cost us two hours but could have been a lot worse. However, it looks like our diesel engine was strained and now loses oil pressure at idling speeds when its hot. Its just fine at startup in the morning and while running at cruising speeds, but I have to be careful when slowing down.

At Elizabeth City on Saturday their Potato Festival filled the streets with merriment. Carnival rides, fireworks that night and extra greasy fries were the order of the day. Not for us, we went to Quality Seafoods for oysters, scallops, fish and hush puppies all crisply fried - oh the cholesterol! We also enjoyed an interesting, enlightening chat with a bosun's mate serving on the USCG vessel Kennebec which places and maintains the ICW, and other, channel markers. The officer explained how the USCG determines where the NAVAIDS (aids to navigation) are situated: Certain criteria is followed but politics sometimes plays a role, ie: "Not in MY front yard!". Luckily, the guardsmen have the final word and they are, after all, sailors. Also of note, less NAVAID markers are being installed to replace those lost. And that's a shame, in my opinion.

The National Office of Anxiety and Alarm (NOAA) isn't cooperating with our plans to go offshore to Cape May, NJ earlier than this weekend. It looks like we'll be in the Chesapeake until then. But we are still ahead of schedule and should get home by mid-June.