Thankful for the rain

Summer Days stops and helps a grounded sailboat

The season of goodwill and giving thanks has arrived.  Imagine is tied to a face dock in an unseasonably chilly Georgetown, South Carolina.  We thought we would be in Florida by now and sharing a communal Thanksgiving dinner with fellow cruisers in Vero Beach.  Not happening.

The temperatures continue to hover in the mid-forties and near gale force winds continue to howl offshore as yet another storm haunts the coast. While I wish I had warmer weather, I am thankful for the rain and cold temperatures that have kept us dock bound.  We could have run into the storms offshore.  Ten-foot waves and 30-knot winds aren’t fun when there is no land in sight.

We left Coinjock, NC almost two weeks ago.  Imagine snaked through foggy marshes, motored across the still Albemarle Sound, followed the magenta line through the Alligator Pungo Canal and anchored outside Belhaven, NC. 

Even though skies were gray and cold, it was nice to be moving again.  For a brief moment the skies gave way to blue as we watched as a motorboat turn around to pull a sailboat off a shoal.  I was thankful that it wasn’t Imagine aground.  It made me thankful for the good Captain on the motor yacht Sunny Days who cared enough to help a fellow boater.

The following day, traveling the Bay River, we hung over the bow rail and laughed as a pod of dolphins played in our wake, swimming, diving, jumping and spraying the foredeck as they cleared their blowholes.  The dolphins fell behind as we turned into the Neuse River.  

That evening we anchored with three other sailboats on the South River.  Despite the cold dismal day, it was a good one.  A quiet anchorage, a free dolphin show and homemade bread that filled the cabin with it’s wonderful essence, what more could one ask for?

The following day Imagine continued south towards Morehead City Yacht basin to fill up on diesel.  The sun came out for the first time since we left our homeport.  By the time we tied to the fuel dock, we had shed our gloves, hats and layers of vests, sweaters and jackets.   It was 75 degrees.   That, and a two-day weather window, encouraged us to take Imagine offshore to Georgetown.  The 24-hour offshore jaunt would save us four days doing the Intracoastal Waterway crawl.   After calling family with our changed float plan, Imagine headed offshore through a flotilla of small fishing craft taking advantage of the Veteran’s Day holiday and the beautiful weather.

By nightfall, the skies turned cloudy again.  Wind clocked to the south and on our nose. Ed pulled in the headsail and cranked down the main to keep them from flapping.  He went below as I came up for my five-hour watch.  The radar showed some rain heading our way.   As Imagine plowed southward the winds kicked up and the waves reached about five feet as we passed through the brief storms.   I was thankful that the rain was coming from the south in short bursts that lasted no more than a half hour.  With only a bimini and dodger for protection, the open cockpit would not have kept me dry.

Gray skies followed us as we sailed into Winyah Bay the next morning.  Imagine was docked at Georgetown’s Hazard Marina on the Sampit River by noon.   We would stay here a couple of days until the next weather window would take us to Florida.  

Eight days later the wind howls from the Northeast and the tubular rubber fenders squeak as the wind blows Imagine tighter to the dock.  It has rained every day.   On day three we meet up with some boating friends for lunch in historic Georgetown.  I am thankful for all of my friends, both on land and on sea.

The ICW from here to Florida is not an option for Imagine with its deep six foot, five inch draft.  Five to seven foot tides are the norm in South Carolina and Georgia.  With the winds the tides can go even lower.  With the shoaling in the shallow ICW, it is not prudent for us to attempt this section.  We wait to go offshore.  I have a warm boat to wait in and again I’m thankful.

Thanksgiving season is one time that I remind myself of my blessings. Sometimes it is hard to remember all that we have to be grateful for, especially when bombarded with images of war, greed and disaster crashing into our living rooms, our computers, our radios and even our cell phones.  No matter how challenging one’s life is now, there is someone who is in worse shape.

During this season, I work to be kinder, to share a smile with strangers.  That small gesture might make their day.  I appreciate all who inspire me.  I am thankful for my education and the fact I can read, and write, and see, and hear.  I am thankful for my memories and for those who make a difference in the lives of others.

I know time of year is hard for those who have lost loved one’s recently and in the past.  Take a moment in the comfort of the many memories you will carry forever in your heart.  Know your loved one will never entirely leave you.   Be thankful for all the years you were able to share.   

Throughout the year there is so much to be thankful for. For me it is my family, my husband, my children, my grandchildren and the new one that will arrive next summer.  It is my morning cup of coffee, a good book, a rainbow, and friends.   Now that I’ve started, I can go on and on. 

If you are reading this, I challenge you to take a moment during this time of thanksgiving and goodwill to discover what makes you thankful.  Happy Thanksgiving.

Ready, Set, Wait!

The Vero Beach City mooring field is full.  Boats raft two or three on a single mooring ball.  Many boaters stop for a night before heading to Lake Worth or Miami, both popular launching spots to cross the gulfstream for the Bahamas.  A few stay for weeks. The anchorages south of Vero fill quickly as mariners wait for the next weather window to cross. 

A two-day window ready opened earlier in the week. Boaters restocked with fresh fruits, vegetables and meats. The fleet was ready to go to the Bahamas… but wait!  Once the sailing vessels and motorboats crossed, 25 to 30 knot winds out of the north and east would keep them pinned in place for several days.  A few sailors left. Many more elected to wait for the next window.

So why wait?  It’s less expensive to layover in the States.  Many Bahamian ports of entry now require boaters to check in from a marina. Like in the States, boats are charged the by foot.  In addition, Bahamian marinas might charge up to $.45 a gallon for water and $10 (or more) a day electric. 

Sitting at anchor waiting to move to another location uses provisions and can be uncomfortable in heavy winds.  Groceries are more expensive in the Bahamas as is gas and diesel.  Depending on location, Internet and phone service may not be available.  Like many other boaters, Imagine’s crew waits for the next window that might come as early as five days… or not. 

It took Imagine 25 days of snaking south; out on the Atlantic Ocean and along the Intracoastal Waterway before morning temperatures rose above 42 degrees.  Imagine and crew dodged two heavy storm periods by staying at marinas in Coinjock, N.C. and Georgetown, S.C.  By the time the crew of Imagine reached Vero Beach City Marina, the sun decided to make a statement.   The bibbed foul weather pants were shed, the gloves, the hats and finally the jackets. 

It took no time to hook the mooring ball pennant, untie the dinghy from the foredeck, inflate the flattened boat and launch it overboard.  As Captain Ed guided the Honda outboard with a line, I lowered it with a halyard. After two pulls the engine started. The water taxi was ready. 

It appears that Imagine will swing on the mooring ball for a while as we wile away the hours waiting for the next weather window to cross to Port Lucaya, Grand Bahama.  While we wait there is a lot to do.  We catch up on the laundry, washing the winter clothing that warmed us on the way down. 

In the boat world the laundry building is the place to hang out.   Friendships blossom.  Old friendships pick where they left off last season.  Boaters get together for happy hours.  They finish boat projects started before heading headed.

The marina lounge fills with electronic devices each morning as boaters charge computers, tablets and phones.   E-mail is checked.  Websites flash across screens.   NOAA Weather, Passage Weather and Weather Underground marine forecasts get a lot of traffic as boaters confirm wind predictions, wave heights and sea status.

We continue to wait and listen to tales about Cuba.  Our Canadian friends on Pioneer, Ron and Judy, spent two seasons there. Canadian, Tom on Polar Pacer, also has spent a time there.  Both stress that Cuba is changing.  It is becoming modern.  They talk about the classic American cars, the cigars, farming and the beauty of the countryside.  

There are yoga classes nearby and photo workshops offered by professional photographer Jim Austin who resides on the sailing catamaran Salty Paws.  I took a walking workshop that Austin offered and learned some really neat tips on how to get better pictures on my small digital camera.   “Don’t be afraid to use the macro.  Get up close. Use the flash,” he advised.  

Adventurous boaters paddleboard across the harbor.  We first witnessed this balancing act four years ago in Key West.  It is a sport that has grown. Paddleboards now glide across the water nearly everywhere we go.  Fishing kayaks seem to be the flavor of the week.   In Florida it isn’t unusual to watch boaters balance precariously as they cast and fish from colorful kayaks. 

Vero Beach City Marina and Mooring Field is a great place to stay if one has to sit and wait for favorable crossing conditions.  There Go-Line bus service takes boaters from the marina to the grocery store, a big box store, or the Indian River Mall.   The bus stops at a marine store, electronic store, home improvements store and even a liquor store.   The lounge also offers a lending library where boaters can exchange books, trading books read for new titles.

While Imagine waits, company stopped in.   Ed’s cousin came up from West Palm Beach for an overnight visit.  Another friend from Delaware drove down for the day, from where she was vacationing in Daytona Beach.  We visited the beach in Vero, a short walk away.  Eating lunch at beachside restaurant, we watched the waves gently lap the sand one afternoon and pound it the next.  Another night we invited boating friends for dinner on Imagine as they passed through Vero to points south.

The waiting continues as Imagine marks off its first week on the mooring ball.  The stay is nearly over.  It appears that the weather window has opened wide.  If the weather forecast remains stable, Imagine and crew will leave Vero Beach for Fort Pierce in about 48 hours.   From there it is a 120-mile southeasterly sail to our next destination.  If all goes as planned, this time next week, Imagine will be cruising turquoise Bahamian waters.  

Heading South

Hurricane/Tropical Storm Sandy left damages yet untold and uncalculated, from the Caribbean and the East coast of the United States.  Homes were destroyed.  Businesses flooded and landmarks have disappeared.   The massive storm seems to have no end. 

Boat queue heading South

Ed had stayed on Imagine during the storm, rocking and rolling as Imagine swayed with the wind and the waves.   On Tuesday, a two-foot surge greeted him with the morning’s high tide.  It was predicted to be four. He was trapped on the boat as water covered the docks.  At the time Gregg Neck Boatyard was without electricity.  At home the television, Internet and phone was turned off earlier in the week in anticipation of a Sunday departure.  We had no idea of the devastation that Sandy was creating.

Winds and waves were high and NOOA weather issued small craft advisories when Imagine left port on November 1.   The temperature was 45 degrees as we pulled the spider web of lines from the pilings, gathering them on deck.  Winds blew 15 to 20 knots out of the Southwest with gusts to 25.  Angry gray clouds moved quickly across the sky.  Debris and tree limbs downed by the storm floated by when Imagine backed out of the slip and headed for the drawbridge in Georgetown.  

It was noon. Our first stop was to pick up gasoline and top off the diesel tanks. The next stop would be Whorton Creek, where we would anchor for the night.  Twenty-five nautical miles later we dropped the hook as one-foot waves buffeted the boat.  Imagine bounced much of the night as the wind driven swells pounded the anchorage.

Sandy had moved on, but the after effects of her wrath chased us down Bay.  With the wind on the nose, pulling the anchor in the morning proved to be a challenge.   Between each swell as the chain slacked momentarily, I cranked in the chain, inch by inch, with the manual windlass. 

Once out on the Chesapeake the anticipated West North West winds predicted by NOOA didn’t materialize.   It was going to be a long day of motoring, past Poole Island, past Tolchester, past Baltimore, past Annapolis and on towards Solomons.  Boat traffic was light on this cold and windy day.  

Even in early November avoiding crab pots can be a nuisance when the floats that mark traps bob up and down with the waves.  Seven hours after we began the day’s trek, Imagine anchored for the second time this season.   We were 60 nautical miles further south… windblown and cold!

The ritual south continued.  Rise at dawn.  Heat the tea.  Layer clothes and dress in full foul weather gear.  Day three moved us another 61 nautical miles South. We anchored at Fishing Bay, protected from the 16 to 20 knot winds that had finally clocked to the West North West.  We were able to sail this day, at times bobbing along at 8.5 knots.

While the weather has been brutally cold and sun has been hiding somewhere behind the gray cloaking clouds, there is always something to bring a smile to the soul.   As we head toward the next destination, I watch the elegance of pelicans as they do their avian conga.  As the lead bird soars, so do the dozen or so behind.  They soar left and right, then up and down, undulating in perfect synchronization until they find the perfect place to land.   Flocks of black ducks bob on the waves and take flight as Imagine enters their space. 

We push towards Norfolk and mile marker one of the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW and begin to pass Navy ships.  Some are outgoing.  I’m proud of our Navy.  My father, my husband, and my son all served in the U. S. Navy.   The day ends tethered to a free dock near the Dismal Swamp cut of the ICW, mile marker 7.3.   While the day remained gray and cold, winds subsided to 10 knots.  We were 56 nautical miles further south. 

Day five begins with sunshine as Imagine plows through Virginia and into North Carolina.  This part of the journey finds us waiting for bridges that open on the hour or half hour.   Imagine enters Great Bridge Lock with three other sailboats.  We tie up as water fills the lock, raising its level before the doors open at the other end and we can sail out.   There are eight motorboats and 10 sailboats in queue waiting at the next stop for a swing bridge to open.  It appears that we aren’t the only ones heading for warmer climes.

Imagine follows the magenta line on the GPS through the narrow ICW as it twists and turns its way South.  At the end of the Currituck Sound in North Carolina, I take over the helm.  Seconds later I hear a funny noise and look at the depth sounder.  We are in 2.6 feet of water.  At 3.1 foot Imagine is aground.   We are stopped. The GPS, shows I was in the channel, but managed to find the only shoaled area near the edge of the channel, compliments of Sandy.  We called Towboat U.S. and wait.  Ed fails to back Imagine off.   As boats passed we rock a bit.   Minutes later, Ed tries again and we move!   I was happy to cancel the call for service.

Imagine is now docked at Midway Marina in Coinjock, NC.   Its crew has electric. The ceramic heater warms us.  It is a balmy 62 degrees inside. With a new northeaster coming through the area, we made a decision to wait it out in comfort.  Today’s 40 nautical mile trip puts us 242 miles along (278.4 statute miles).

We continue to learn of the damage that Sandy left in her wake.  Parts of the marina’s docks are gone.  The fuel tanks are out of service.  The manager told us that the beach road to Onancock and Hatteras was completely washed out.  I count my blessings.  My thoughts and prayers go out to all those who are struggling to move forward after Hurricane/Tropical Storm Sandy.   

                                                       

                                                       

Jacob at Eight

Jacob Gilchrist, 8, fishing.

Long ago I forgot what it is like to be eight.   Eight is a busy time, a curious time… and eight is full of energy.  I was reminded of this when eight-year-old Jacob Gilchrist and his grandmother, Michele Burke, made a recent trek from Penns Grove, NJ to Galena, Maryland to visit Imagine.

It didn’t matter that the skies were grey and the temperatures only in the 50’s.  Jacob was on an adventure from the moment he exited the car.   Immediately he was in the land of Lilliput.  Towering sailboats, dry-docked and blocked, with masts reaching even higher made an obvious impression.  Jacob said that the boats made us all look like mice, so small.  

Ed quickly explained that sometimes there is as much sailboat under the water as above because of the living spaces.  With that, Jake was eager to see what Imagine had to offer.   I was eager too, but I wanted to get out of the damp cold air.  “Come on Jacob, let’s go,” I said as he stopped to look at each boat docked along the pier.

Jacob, Ed, Michele

As we carefully made the transition from the dock stepping up to the deck of Imagine, Jacob said it was going to be easy and scrambled aboard hopping into the cockpit.   We explained that a cockpit was kind of like a back porch and to enter the boat one had to go through a door called a companionway.   We continued that one should always make their way down the steep steps facing towards the steps while holding on to the handrail because a wave might knock one off balance.   On cue a wake from a powerboat rocked Imagine.   The look on Jacob’s face…priceless.

His disappointment was obvious when we told him we would be sitting at the dock because of the weather. We promised to invite him another time for a ride.

For a while Ed and Jacob explored the marina.  Lines hanging off the docks into the water captured the young boy’s curiosity.   Ed explained that some people hang crab pots off the docks.  They pulled up a pot to check and were rewarded with not only four large Blue crabs, but also a foot long catfish.  Of course the pot went back into the water to wait for its owner.

With Jacob around, nothing went unnoticed.  Why so many lines?  What do dock lines, spring lines and other lines do? What is a spinnaker pole?  How do you pull the sails up and down? 

What is a rudder?  Finally, how do you get the rudder to turn back and forth leads to removing the cover from the helm?  “Wow, that’s the steering wheel?  It’s big,” Jacob exclaimed as he moved next to Ed and put both hands on the four foot teak and stainless wheel.  Of course, the next question was, “How do you turn on the engine?” 

When Jacob said wistfully, “I always wanted to drive a boat and fish from a boat,” our resolve to stay docked weakened.                What the heck… how hard is it to take off the lines?

Next thing we know, Jacob is helping to secure the lifelines. He helps to pull up the fenders festooned in a bright orange lifejacket.   He watches everything.   Imagine, for the first time since early June backs out of a slip.  Jake stands next to Ed at the helm and grins.  “I always wanted to do this.”  We all grin.

Ed maneuvers Imagine into the middle of the river and tells Jake that it is his turn.  He explains to Jake about the depth finder.   “When the number gets lower than six-feet then you have to come back towards the middle.   If it gets to three-feet, we’re parked and you will have to get out and shovel,” Ed said with a wink.

Jake’s head bobbed and moved side to side as tried to look around the life-raft, mast and other boat blind spots.  “How do you see?” he asked.   “We usually sit on one side or the other so the mast isn’t really in the way,” Ed replied.

When Jacob said excitedly that he always wanted to fish from a boat, an old spinning rod appears.   With youthful optimism and faith, Jacob casts over and over knowing each time he was going to get a record-breaking fish.     Fish jumped around us, but there were no biters on this cold and grey day.

Jacob, with serious concentration etched on his face, steered us back towards the dock.   Ed took over as we entered the slip.  Jacob watched me and grabbed the spare boat hook. 

As I grabbed the starboard lines, he snagged the lines off the port side pilings as if he had been doing it for years.   The kid is a natural.  He remembered the spring lines and on his own, deployed not only the fenders, but also the fender-boards.

It was time for the day to end, but not quite.   Jacob just had to show his grandmother the neatest thing.   We hiked to the other side of the marina where he proceeded to pull up the four-foot crab pot to show us the treasure inside.    As he moved to turn on a faucet to wash his hands at the end of the dock, water sprayed wildly.  Jacob jumped quickly, only getting a “little wet.”

Needless to say, the day was one of smiles and warmth that was not weather related.   It was full of eight-year-old energy and inquisitiveness.  I think we might have helped open the door for a future sailor.  Jacob will be invited back to visit us on Imagine one day… and next time we will catch that fish.  

We were both surprised and delighted to receive the note below a week later.  “Sharron and Ed, Thank you so much for taking me out on your boat!  I learned so much and had an awesome time.  And I really liked driving the boat!  Your friend, Jacob.”   You are welcome, Jacob!