Another try? And wonderful sunrises and sunsets in Chesapeake Bay.

Well, “Hello from exactly where I was a week ago!”. 

After Alice, a delightful new friend, offered to bring me a load of groceries from the local Walmart on Sunday 10/22, I raised anchor and sailed out at sunset. The winds, as forecast, were rather unpleasant.... but then became worse and worse and the forecast deteriorated as well. Various weather stations were reporting winds speeds of 30 kts and neither Monty nor I were enjoying ourselves at all. Forecasts told me that things would only get a little better in the next 24 hours and I knew that we'd be utterly miserable in the ocean, so I turned into the wind and fought my way upwind, gaining perhaps a hundred yards per hour, heeling over enough that my galley sink filled nearly full of salt water... By sunrise, things were a tiny bit better and by noon we were suffering from LACK of wind. After spending a night heaved-to, the wind picked up enough to sail a bit and we headed toward Tangiers Island, but the forecasts for THAT said we'd have trouble finding a sheltered anchorage, so we changed course BACK to our former spot and dropped anchor there at 1am.... and were fast asleep by 1:15.

In the morning, with Monty eager for land and water glassy and peaceful, I lowered the dinghy and tossed aboard the anchor line and bungee, then snagged my shoes etc.... and glanced around to see the dinghy twenty feet behind me. In my exhausted state, I had tossed ALL lines aboard. DOH!

SO.... swim? How about tossing in a paddleboard? Yes, but how about simply tying the anchor line to a fender and using the sailboat engine to motor over there? Even better: maybe use the slack 100' of anchor line to allow me to back the sailboat to the dinghy! That worked well! 

Anyway, I'm back in a safe anchorage, recovering, repairing my leaking faucet, jib rip, cracked cockpit surround, etc. Monty is VERY happy to be back and I think the second and third nights out probably helped him [and me] with any PTSD we might have had from the rough first night: always important to get right back on the horse. And I've been meeting folks and swimming in the still-warm water. And there a some interesting "red beard" sponges growing here.

Cold strong winds will arrive Monday evening, along with rain and clouds. When it eases up, November 2, it looks like I'll be able to head south again... and it will be pretty cold and sunny... Thank goodness for an enclosure around the cockpit!

So many wonderful sunrises and sunsets...

And a couple nice moonrise moonsets:

If at first you don't succeed... try sailing south again

After the last post, Monty and I set sail... upwind. The noise of the wind and impact of the waves made things pretty unpleasant, not to mention the strength of the wind dipping our lee deck in the water, not to mention the old vinyl window cracking and letting in the abundant salt spray. After six exhausting hours of fighting... and taking another look at the forecast that said my worst conditions would be at midnight... and looking at Monty's unhappy face [seasick?], I reconsidered and turned back to Dutch Harbor. The sail back took only an hour and a half and, with huge relief, we dropped anchor in the fading daylight and hit the hay. 

The next day, I climbed the mast to check on the masthead and found the forestay was failing. I had been putting off the replacement, but since I had at least five days to kill I tackled the job. I have since climbed the mast at least six times and gone through a lot of grumbling, but finally tightened the stays and raised the jib yesterday, just as the wind started to rise for the storm coming through today. 

And I've gotten a lot of compliments on the boat appearance/character while working on it. I DO enjoy having a boat I've done so much on.... although there IS something to say for a boat you don't need to think about much.

SO... this afternoon I should head out through the fading storm, wind across my beam, racing along at six knots or so, straight for the Chesapeake Bay. Waves should build to about five feet by midnight... although I might skirt Long island to avoid them... then diminish steadily. Winds should max out at 20 knots [at midnight: ugh], then drop. It SHOULD be a simple and fast passage, but you never know. When I get to the Chesapeake I can consider whether to haul out and paint the boat bottom or continue on to NC or even FL. I would really like to get the bottom paint crossed off my list.

I feel sorry for Monty on the long sails,although he does fine. He really enjoys being in a place where he can get to shore twice a day, take a nice walk, and sniff things.

Somehow I don't think he enjoys sunsets, shooting stars, and the rush of water nearly as much as I do. But he sure enjoys a comfortable spot beside me.

Waiting on the wind

"There is a tide..." and I seem to have missed it. Now I'm anchored in Dutch Harbor, waiting on another weather window.... and seeing NOTHING in the next week. Let's rewind a bit....

My engine has given me fits this summer, insisting on leaking fuel from the injection pump. I can attribute this to age and, even more, to my unschooled attempts to improve things. A video I watched in which a fellow tried to reseal his pump terminated with his wry observation "it seems to be leaking from, well, everywhere." He then sighed and said "well, I know better how to fix it and taking things apart the second time should be much faster." So, I was in the same boat: took it apart a couple times, and finally got the leaking down to something reasonable, thank goodness. The worst thing is that I need to drain the coolant and move the exhaust manifold and drop the starter in order to work on the pump. UGH!

I delayed heading south for several reasons, mostly storms and hope of getting to Maine or the wide beaches of Provincetown spit this summer, but time ran out. Finally we had a nice weather window: days of wind from the south that would take me to the NJ coast, then a sudden turn to blow from the west and shoot me down to Delaware Bay or even Chesapeake Bay, a nice chance to visit friends and fam in the DC region and paint the boat bottom, then down to FL before it gets too darned cold.

On Oct 4, departure day, the dockmaster in Onset encouraged me to clean the boat bottom and I decided he was right. Working hard in cold water, surrounded by bait fish, felt GREAT!... although a bit numbing and I had to get out and warm up for a couple hours in the 80deg weather. The second time I went in felt so good that I could not resist finishing up by climbing up the fairly high floating dock dock rather than the easy dinghy.... and I overstressed my leg in the effort. 

After one final walk with Monty, I departed at 1:30pm, when the current became favorable, and sailed/drifted out the Cape Cod Canal and across Buzzards Bay.

Over the next day, my hip-femur joint gradually stiffened up until I walked like a pirate with a peg leg and the wind, supposed to be on my beam, came from ahead such that I could not even clear Block Island. Then darkness fell and fog came in.... so I decided to detour into Narragansett Bay and drop anchor off of Jamestown, RI in a little harbor we've used before. Safe and stable at 9pm, Monty and I went below and fell asleep and slept until sunrise and a warm and delightful day...

That was three days ago. I wrote the previous paragraphs yesterday. My leg feels entirely better. After one more unseasonably warm September/October day things went gray; then cold, windy, and clear. Windy and big waves out in the ocean, yes, but maybe I should head out anyway once the worst has passed.... I'll look at the forecasts.... Hmmm.... possibly, I'll depart today: it looks like the weird and fluctuating winds might allow me to make my way south quite effectively.... Final decision after noon today...

It is nice being back on board, although sometimes stressful. I DO like being back in my home, taking Monty for walks, making some progress on improvements, chatting with nice folks ashore and meeting their dogs,

seeing sunrises

 and sunsets,

listening to the sounds of water lapping at my hull. I sure look forward to warm nights down south and hope I can get there in time to enjoy the Geminid meteor shower under warm, dark skies. And I'd love to learn how to catch shrimp the amateur way this year, without the huge environmental damage of trawlers or farms.