Cruising with Grace

20 May 2018 | My kitchen, Needham MA
16 May 2018 | Mooring 831, Hewitts Cove, Hingham MA
04 May 2018 | Cape May harbor, off the Coast Guard base
25 April 2018 | Onancock Creek
10 April 2018 | Barefoot Landing Marina, which is free while they are closed
02 April 2018 | Turtle Island, just inside the border with South Carolina
26 March 2018 | St Augustine Municipal Marina, right next to the Bridge of Lions
22 March 2018 | ICW Mile 946
17 March 2018 | Old Bahama Marina, West End, Bahamas
11 March 2018 | Conch Marina, Marsh Harbor
04 March 2018 | Anchored off Russell Island next to Spanish Wells
24 February 2018 | Off Monument Beach, Stocking Island
18 February 2018 | Anchored off Stocking Island, across the harbor from Georgetown
11 February 2018 | Georgetown
04 February 2018 | Nassau Harbor Club Marina
28 January 2018 | In a slip at the Nassau Harbor Club Marina
19 January 2018 | Anchorage between Whale and Bird Cay
15 January 2018 | South of Frazier Hog Island
11 January 2018 | Browns Marina, Bimini, Bahamas
07 January 2018 | No Name Harbor, Key Biscayne

Epilogue - what I learned

20 May 2018 | My kitchen, Needham MA
I wrote this blog for three audiences. First is my family and friends; some sailors and many not, who wanted to follow along with me. Second is people who are thinking about a trip like this and want to know what it's like. The third audience is me. Already this whole experience is getting fuzzy in my memory - when was I at St Augustine FL? Was it 3 months ago that I was snorkeling with the eagle rays at Warderick Wells? What about that night anchored off Mangrove Cay and it was absolutely silent? Where was the last place I went swimming off the boat?

My friend and cruising buddy Tom Benson signs off his Facebook posts with "Don't let your dreams be dreams!". It's very empowering to make a life-long dream a reality - especially when it is a challenging dream like taking a small sailboat single-handed to the Bahamas and back. This was an adventure - great at the best times but not always easy (or fun).

I learned you need to be resourceful and resilient. Things did not always go as planned - stuff breaks, or the weather is bad. You have to be resourceful to work around those things - dealing with what breaks, like my genoa the two times it did. You have to be resilient because, while the great times are great, the 'not-so-good times' wear on you. It takes a lot of energy as, when you are by yourself, you provide all the energy. During the first two weeks of this voyage last fall I found myself thinking "this is hard - I'm not sure if the boat and I are up for it." Single-handing is hard - as Piglet says in the Winnie-the-Pooh story in which he's entirely surrounded by water "It's so much more friendly with two"

A neighbor asked me "would you do this trip again?". The answer is not THIS trip. The ratio of time spent getting to the Bahamas and back to time spent in the Bahamas was off. As I said in a previous blog post, when I was there, I was already thinking about getting back home. I missed spots I wanted to go to - like the blue hole at Rock Sound, the pink beaches of Eleuthera, and more of the Abacos.

This whole journey has had a subtle impact on me - a mix of confidence and something like serenity. Knowing I can deal with whatever comes. Not stressing over things ranging from 'strange noises from Grace's engine' (which were all in my mind) to what I will do now that I'm retired.

An epilogue is 'what happens after the end of a story'. For Grace, this will be a desperately needed clean-up and repair of things that were not urgent. For me, this trip was a transition from work and career to a new life of retirement. My epilogue ranges from what cruises on Grace I will do this summer with Tom, my Bahamas buddy, David, my buddy on the way down, and Ron and Jay, my remote companions, to what I will do in retirement to bring structure and purpose to life.

Final runs and last days

16 May 2018 | Mooring 831, Hewitts Cove, Hingham MA
Sunny and warm
I left Cape May, NJ 11 days ago for the remaining legs of my trip home - up the 110 miles of the New Jersey coast, thru New York harbor and the East River, east thru Long Island Sound, and lastly north thru Buzzards Bay, the Cape Cod Canal, then to Hingham. These were the runs I did in reverse last fall.

The New Jersey coast has always intimidated me a bit. 110 miles to Sandy Hook with only a few places to stop. My plan was to break this 110 miles into two days, stopping in Barnegat Bay for the night. Barnegat Inlet has a bit of a reputation, and I now know why. After a very pleasant, but long day motoring north in light breezes and 2 ft swells from the SE, I turned into the Barnaget Inlet channel. 2 ft swells became 4-5 ft steep breaking waves as the swells met the outgoing 2 kt current. The shallow water alarm in my depth instrument would go off when Grace was in the trough of waves. Coming by the breakwater, these waves would lift up Grace's stern and I would be surfing down them at over 10 kts. I'd have to hank the wheel to keep Grace from turning sideways in the troughs. But I made it in without a problem and found a spot to anchor. I would never want to go thru Barnegat Inlet if the seas and winds were any stronger!

I spent the next night anchored off Sandy Hook, and on Monday headed up New York harbor and the East River. This is a very dramatic leg, going past the buildings along the East River, but I took so many pictures last fall that I didn't take any this time. When I came down last fall, I timed my passage to start when the current through Hell's Gate was slack - this time I was passing up the East River when the current was running close to full speed. The water swirled and looked the way water in a pot would look just before it breaks into a boil.

My run up Long Island Sound was somewhat leisurely, as I was meeting Laura at Block Island on Friday. The first day, I stopped for an hour at Great Captain Island off Greenwich CT to see the lighthouse. Laura has an ancestor; James Bird, who was the 3rd lighthouse keeper on the island in the early 1800s. In the history of the lighthouse, there are two keepers who rescued mariners, other keepers who got the Lighthouse Services 'Efficiency Award' (whatever that was), but nothing in particular about James Bird. So I presume he just keep the lights on and raised a large family on the island.

Each morning of my days on Long Island Sound would start with thick fog. It would burn off during the morning, most days replaced by sunny skies and very light winds. I arrived at Block Island Friday morning and met Laura as she got off the ferry from Pt Judith.

The Nature Conservancy has designated Block Island as one of the "Last Great Places". It is mostly rural, with rolling hills, stone walls, beaches and bluffs overlooking Block Island Sound. Friday; a warm sunny day, Laura and I rode bikes to the north end to see the North Lighthouse, which is a copy of the lighthouse on Great Captain Island. Saturday morning; a cool rainy day, we rode bikes in the south end of the island until we were too wet and chilled to continue. The two nights we stayed there were the first times I didn't sleep in the aft cabin on Grace since December 28!

Sunday morning Laura got on the ferry, and Grace and I continued our journey north. I was entering familiar territory, as I'd sailed this area over the past few years. One night was spent at Cuttyhunk Island, at the end of the Elizabeth Islands chain, and the next night - my last of this long adventure, anchored off Duxbury. Tuesday morning; over 7 1/2 months since I started out, I motored past Boston Light, thru Hull Gut and to Grace's mooring in Hingham. The familiar hills and islands were green with spring growth. It may be hard to believe, but this return was almost as exciting as when I, along with Faith Afloat with Tom and Luke, arrived in the Bahamas over 4 months ago.

Upon picking up the mooring, and securing the boat, I poured some of the bourbon I bought last fall into two glasses. I went forward and poured one glass on the bow, took a sip from the other glass, patted the boat and said "Grace, you did well. You did very well."

And so this voyage ends. I will have one more blog post after this one, where I will share my reflections on what this experience has meant.

The Chesapeake, revisited

04 May 2018 | Cape May harbor, off the Coast Guard base
Hot weather! Dug out the shorts and sandals!
Chesapeake revisited

Last fall, the Chesapeake Bay was my first 'destination' on my way south. All the miles I did before that were just to 'get there' - someplace I'd want to explore. But the weather was mixed, and I had a deadline to get to the start of the ICW Rally, so I didn't really see much of it. I wanted this time to experience more of it.

Chesapeake Bay abounds with picturesque creeks, small towns and secluded anchorages, and so is a wonderful area for cruising. The southern part is flatter, with more salt marsh, and the water is saltier. Unfortunately, it's not great for swimming in the hot summer, due to sea nettles (a type of jelly fish). The northern part is hillier, with bluffs lining the bay. The water is fresher, due to the rivers flowing into it, so a good area to explore - and swim during the summer.

Over the 11 days, I went to eight different spots:

I left Hampton, VA and sailed (sailed, without the motor! First time in 1 1/2 months!) to an anchorage in the East River off Mobjack Bay. Nice, quiet spot; disgusting soft mud on the bottom, which got all over the anchor chain - and me, when I pulled it up (mud like this is the case in almost every anchorage).

Next I went to Onancock Creek, rowed into the town docks and explored the town. I stopped in a bakery and treated myself to a cinnamon sticky bun. This is a nice place to visit. I stayed there two nights due to a passing weather front.

From Onancock, on a windless, foggy day, I motored to the Hooper Islands for no other reason that it was a convenient stop-over on my route north. I bypassed Tangier Island because it was not far enough from Onancock and I wouldn't make as much progress as I'd like. The fog was so thick this day I couldn't see more than 200 yards (thank goodness I have radar).

I went to Solomon's Island to get fuel and water. I'd stayed at a marina here on my way south. This time I anchored in a quiet cove up Mill Creek. A very sheltered spot so I felt nice and secure that night as a line of intense thunderstorms rolled through.

From there I went to Oxford, arriving before noon and anchoring in Town Creek. This is another nice town to spend an afternoon.

Annapolis was my next destination, with a 5 hour sail across the bay going 'wing-and-wing' (see picture in the Gallery). Since it is so early in the boating season, I got a mooring right off the center of town. I spent two nights in Annapolis, and used the lay day to go to an 'all you can eat' Sunday brunch, and explore a bit of the US Naval Academy. A large part of the visit to the academy was spent in the museum, seeing its collection of ship models (I am fascinated by these models).

Monday, April 30 was a cold, windy day as I motor-sailed to Worton Creek.

Tuesday, May 1, I arrived at Chesapeake City, which is on the C&D Canal, and is in effect the end of the Chesapeake Bay. Highlight of Chesapeake City is the C&D Canal Museum, which has models and dioramas of the canal and river boats, and the original steam engines that pumped the water to power the locks the canal had when it was first built.

I am now in Cape May, NJ, after a 3 am motor down Delaware Bay yesterday.

I have about 400 miles left on the entire 4000+ journey I started last September. It feels a bit like, when my wife and I are driving back from Maine to our home in Needham and we pass by the Mass Turnpike, 'we're almost home'.

The Dismal Swamp Canal

25 April 2018 | Onancock Creek
Cloudy, 50s
I haven't posted a blog update in two weeks, as I've been focused on moving north. I've covered over 400 miles since then, in 40-50 mile increments up the ICW, with one 3-day stay in Beaufort NC for provisions and a weather-caused lay day. Along the way, I went up the Waccamaw River, and the Cape Fear and Neuse Rivers, and transited the Pamlico and Albemarle Sounds. I passed Mile 0 on the ICW this past Saturday, and am now making my way north up the Chesapeake Bay.

The high point of my last 354 miles on the ICW was the Dismal Swamp Canal. It is the oldest part of the ICW, started when George Washington was president. It was dug by slaves rented out by their owners, and freed blacks - although after reading about how horrendous the conditions were, I can''t imagine anyone voluntarily working on it. The Dismal Swamp, which surrounds it, was part of the Underground Railroad as it was a place fugitive slaves could hide. These same swamps were also used by moonshiners making bootleg liquor. Although the only 40 miles long, it is a large part of the image and allure for people who want to do the ICW. It was closed when I came south in the fall, and so the Rally group took the commercial Virginia Cut route.

Last Friday I left Elizabeth City (mile 50) and went up the Pasquotank River to the start of the Dismal Swamp Canal. The Pasquotank River is narrow and windy, with cypress trees along both sides - a good introduction to the canal. The canal itself is straight and narrow - perhaps 50 ft wide, and the trees along the banks overhang the canal such that I needed to watch that my mast didn't tangle in them. Despite care, Grace's deck got covered with leaves and small twigs. The first milestone was the South Mills Lock. Although I got to the lock past its scheduled time - and the lock gates were closed, the lock keeper opened them up for me, and I rafted up to a motorboat which was doing the Great Loop Cruise (north to New York, west thru the Erie Canal and Great Lakes, south down the Missisippi River, east along the Gulf Coast, around Florida, and then back to the East Coast).

The lock raises you up 8 ft. As the water boiled into the lock, it stirred up large clumps of algae, and I thought 'oh no - this will clog the engine cooling water intake...' Sure enough, as I left the lock, smoke started coming out of the exhaust and my high water temperature alarm went off. No choice but to shut off the engine and let it cool down. The same motorboat I rafted to in the lock offered to tow my along the canal until I could clear out the clog and restart the engine. Five miles later, we arrived at the the North Carolina Welcome Center, tied up to their dock for the night, and I used the afternoon to go to the museum and walk through the surrounding swamp and forest.

The next morning, as mist swirled over the canal, I continued along the rest of the Dismal Swamp Canal, through the Deep Creek Lock (shutting off the engine while in the lock so I wouldn't have overheating problems a second time), then to the end of the ICW - and the end of my ICW adventure, then over to Hampton VA for the night.

A week ago, I actually wrote a blog post called "Route Planning", which described the process by which I would decide my destination each day as I traversed the ICW. It also listed every stop I made as I counted down the miles. I didn't post it, of course. Now that I'm in the Chesapeake, route planning is very different, as there is a multitude of creeks and coves on the west side and the east side where I can go while I head in a generally northward direction. I am going to try - try, to go a bit slower and enjoy this special area more than I did last fall.

In about 3 weeks, Grace and I will be back in Hingham, her home port.

Bird-watching

10 April 2018 | Barefoot Landing Marina, which is free while they are closed
Grey, cool, but better than yesterday!
I've been watching birds a lot as I motor along. I am not a bird-watcher, and can identify very few birds. My friend Gene is a bird-watcher, and sometimes I email him a description (very infrequently a picture, as I'm too busy steering), with the email subject "What bird is this?". My descriptions aren't very descriptive, with adjectives like 'very small', 'not so small', 'a bit bigger'. But he very often replies with some good guesses and pictures of the possible options.

I find it very interesting to watch how they behave. Terns (I don't know what type of terns)have been very common . They swoop, and then hover. You can see them looking down in the water. Then they dive down, and almost immediately swoop back up - sometimes with a small fish in their beaks. Pelicans also dive for fish, but it is very different. They crash into the water, and then bob there for a minute. No idea if they've caught anything. I've also seen a lot of gulls that I believe are Bonaparte Gulls (Gene said that was one type of gull that matched my description). They seem to skim across the water, and then fly up.

Pelicans are everywhere. They follow crab fishermen as they tend their traps - gliding along a foot above the water, and then landing all around the crabber's boat, waiting patiently with that knowing look pelicans have. When the crabber is done with one pot, and races off to the next, they take off and glide along just behind the boat.

I've also seen: a Bald Eagle carrying a stick to her nest; ospreys in their nests, flying around, and in one case, one chasing another which had a large fish in its talon; a small bird neither a tern nor a gull that sits on crab trap floats or bobs in large groups in the water; and swallows flitting around chasing insects. A lot of cormorants, and something that looks like a cormorant, but with slightly grayer coloring and 'a bit larger'. Just to round out the fauna, I've seen one alligator on the side of a very shallow stretch of waterway, and a very large turtle - could be a loggerhead, that came up right next to the boat, saw me, and dived.

It's been a while since I've updated you on my route and progress. Since the last post, I've anchored in the Beaufort River, just off Beaufort SC (mile 537), South Edisto River (mile 509), Stono River (mile 472), and spent two nights at the Carolina Yacht Club. My son Andrew flew down for the weekend, and despite a drenching Saturday afternoon and evening, we had a great time - drinking craft ales, having lunch with my wife's uncle at the yacht club, taking a horse drawn carriage tour, eating a great dinner. He saw me off Sunday morning - helping me get Grace out of the slip, and then going to the airport. This weekend was a very welcome chance to visit and a change from the continual moving north.

But now I've picked up the pace. One night at Avendaw Creek in the middle of the salt march (mile 435), then a night anchored in Thoroughfare Creek (mile 388) in the middle of cypress trees. Now I am tied up at a free dock in North Myrtle Beach (mile 354). At this pace, I will be at Mile 0 of the ICW in about 11 days. I see very few other boats heading north - clearly a sign that I am returning too soon. The weather suggests that - mornings in the mid-40s, days in the 60s. Oh for the warm Bahama days!

I expect blog updates to become a bit less frequent - and possibly less interesting with fewer photos, as I focus on getting back to New England.

Mornings

02 April 2018 | Turtle Island, just inside the border with South Carolina
Hot, somewhat windy - and the start of being buggy!
Mornings have always been one of my favorite times. While the ICW is boring (less so in Georgia), mornings along the way can be pretty special.

For much of the past week, I've been making my way north through Georgia, and except for one night at Jekyll Island, I've been anchoring out in tidal creeks. Some mornings are absolutely still, with the water like glass. When I'm underway, Grace's wake is the only thing that disturbs this stillness. The shoreline is reflected in mirror image. I can see the reflections of pelicans as they skim the water.

The dawn chorus of birds starts at first light - about 45 minutes before the sun rises (at about 7:20 here). As I sit in the cockpit with my coffee, in the middle of a dark salt marsh, chirps, trills, whistles and occasional squawks are all around me. This is something we don't get in the suburbs where many of us live.

Evenings are special, too, as I sit in the cockpit drinking a beer. But mornings along the way have a unique quality to them.

I'm continuing to head north - motoring along twisting Georgia rivers, through broad salt marshes or around hummocks and islands. This is quite different from the mostly straight Florida run. While I'd like to skip some of this by going outside into the Atlantic and then coming in an inlet further north, I have not yet found the right sets of inlets, at the right time and the right conditions, and so continue motoring my way. (Being a single-hander, I look for legs I can make in 10 or so hours, so I can get to a good anchorage early in the evening.)

I stayed in St Augustine an extra day due to the weather, and used this extra day to visit the St Augustine Distillery, and give Grace a fresh water bath. On Tuesday, I anchored out at Sisters Creek (mile 738). Wednesday I moved north (leaving Florida) and spent two nights at Cumberland Island, anchored in the Bricknell Creek (mile 703). I used part of this lay day making my 3rd repair to the water-lift muffler, and then explored the island a bit.

Cumberland Island is a national park, has some historical sites, a fantastic mansion I toured, and a herd of feral horse (140 during this year's count). The mansion - Plum Orchard, was built by the Carnegies at the start of 'the modern conveniences era'. It has a water-powered elevator, DC electric power (including a DC outlet next to one bathtub!), and an early electric ice-maker the size of a small car. The mansion is laid out to keep the servants out of sight of the guests except when called - even the doorknobs are different based on whether they are on the servant side or the guest side. I heard, but did not see any feral horses, but did see two armadillos nosing through the leaves.

The next day was rainy, and I spent the night at the Jekyll Harbor Marina (mile 684) so I could make a provisioning run. Last fall the Sail To The Sun rally spent three nights here. There is a lot to see here, which I saw it last fall.

Since then, I've spent one night at New Teakettle Creek (mile 646) and the next night at Redbird Creek (mile 606), and tonight I'll be at Turtle Island (mile 572), just over the border into South Carolina. These anchorages are on tidal creeks in the middle of the marshes. They are a bit challenging to anchor in, as the currents can be strong (1 1/2 kts), reverse twice a day, and they can act strangely on Grace. Sometimes Grace will sit back with the anchor line pointing out front, sometimes the anchor line stretched back along the hull with the anchor behind me, and sometimes Grace will be sideways to the anchor - not just when the tide is changing but for hours at a time.

The Georgia section of the ICW is poorly maintained and has notorious shallow stretches, some of which can only be transited when the tide is up. On one of these very shallow stretches, I saw my first alligator 'in the wild' - but I was too busy feeling my way through to take a picture.

I'm going at a somewhat leisurely pace as I will be meeting my son Andrew in Charleston the end of this week and Charleston is only slightly more than 100 miles away.
Vessel Name: Grace
Vessel Make/Model: Catalina 320
Hailing Port: Needham MA
Crew: Alex Cullen
Extra: This trip will be my 'transition to retirement'
Grace's Photos - Journey down to Florida - 2. Beaufort SC to Ft Laurderdale
Photos 1 to 46 of 46 | Main
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Grace at rest for the next three weeks
I  don
Wedding - one of two I saw: Fort Lauderdale Beach
Dance company: Ft Lauderdale Beach
Fort Lauderdale Beach
Nice  to be able to dock your yacht next to your home!: I acturally saw even bigger ones
Mar-a-lago: couldn
Coast Guard off Mar-a-lago
Waves at Vero Beach
Rally - last dinner?
Mangroves - Vero Beach islands: Not as big as mangroves I
Boats anchored in  the narrow creeks: Vero Beach
Kennedy Space Center panorama
Vertical Assembly Building: I
Launch pad
Crawler used to move rockets to launch pads: This thing is huge
Saturn V rocket
Saturn V rocket: I
Atlantis Space Shuttle
High water mark: apologize for the odd angle of the picture!
Castillo  de San Marcos: Spanish  name for the fort
View from fort to anchorage area
Another view from the fort
Musket firing demonstration
Daytona Beach view from the waterway
Kennedy Space Center
Fernandina Beach mainstreet: At night these trees are covered in lights for Christmas
Pelicans on dock: Fernandina Beach.
Hurricane victim: All along the waterway, you see boats high and dry in the marshes, or sunk by the shore.  This one looks like it was a victim of Hurricane Mathew in 2016.
Statue, Historic District
Mansion decorated for Christmas
Crab fisherman with  pelicans: Pelicans fly over and then bob patiently waiting for scraps
Courtyard, Crane Mansion,  Jekyll Island
Faith Chapel, Jekyll  Island Historic District: Notice the gargoyles on the steeple
Driftwood Beach, Jekyll Island GA
Driftwood Beach, Jekyll Island GA
Anchorage view in thee morning: notice the colors
Cozy (albeit messy) cabin
Bug: Just thought this was an unusual bug
Brown water, green trees, blue and white sky
Scene on the Ashepoo River: No question what their politics are!
Beaufort SC mansion
Windmill Marina view: Marina  is part of a gated residential community
Beaufort SC mansion
Grace under genoa sail
Lunch at the Carolina Yacht Club: Left-to-right: Me, Uncle Doug (who is 97), Sam
 
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