One More Ocean Adventure

The rise and fall of the Ocean swell change can change from a dry gentle rolling motion to something more like a ride on a wet log flume in a matter of minutes. Crossing the Gulf Stream from Ft. Pierce, Fla. to Port Lucaya. Grand Bahama in early December looked as if it was going to be a smooth ride. And it was, for the first 12 hours.

At 6:30 a.m., a slight breeze from the southeast barely rippled the still waters as Imagine glided away from the mooring ball at the Vero Beach City Marina heading towards the inlet at Fort Pierce. Ahead of us the sailing vessels Blackthorn and Edelweiss followed the meandering Intracoastal Waterway to the Atlantic Ocean.  Breeze Hunter  brought up the rear.

East southeast winds freshened to 12 knots as the four boats travelled on an incoming tide out to the open ocean.  Seas were somewhat confused at the mouth of the inlet, but as we adjusted our course, the waves became four to six foot gentle swells with eight to10 seconds between each rise.  With light wind on the nose, Imagine pointed to Grand Bahama Island and motor sailed with only the mainsail. 

The west wall of the Gulf Stream was located fifteen miles off  Fort Pierce.  The deep dark blue waters of the stream moved quickly northward.  Instead of chugging along at 7.5 knots, Imagine slowed to 5.2 knots as the powerful current fought against the set southeasterly course.  The sun was bright. The skies were blue.  The seas provided a gentle forward to aft ride.  Blackthorn and Edelweiss hoped to get lucky and dragged fishing lines behind their boats.

Around 6:00 p.m. Clouds began to fill in and the winds increased to17 knots.  The swells became untamed waves that were spaced much closer together.  By the time I came back on watch at 11:00 p.m. The waves were spitting spray. Ed told me to put on my foul weather gear.  Of course I ignored him and opted for a light wind breaker.  The wind  picked up to 22 knots, gusting 25. Imagine was now pounding forward and aft, bouncing as she plowed through the wind driven waves.  Ocean spray whipped around the port side of the boat and into the cockpit.  "What's so bad about a little spray? At least it is warm," I thought. 

It wasn't 10 minutes later that Imagine dipped into a trough between two waves.  As she tripped into the hole a wave washed over the bow, dodger and bimini, filling the decks with water that spilled into my lap and onto the sole before draining back to sea through the deck and cockpit drains.  Okay, that was a little more wet than I needed.  It was now way too late for foul weather gear. 

Over the next five hours.  I keep an eye on the other boats. Blackthorn fell behind on Imagine's starboard stern.  Edelweiss followed and Breeze Hunter sailed off to port.  The lights from their masts bounced up and down in the frothing waters.  I know that they too are having a rough night.  Occasionally, we call each other on the radio to check on how everyone is holding up.  There is comfort knowing that there are others traveling the same watery road.  

Seven hours later, after playing trampoline with mother nature, Imagine sails into the lee of Grand Bahama Island.  The seas settle as the the land blocks much of the wind.  I'm more than happy to go below at 4 a.m. It is time for Ed to take over. 

He wakes me at 7:00 a.m.  We prepare to enter Bell Channel leading to Port Lucaya Marina.  Breeze Hunter, with a shallower depth than Imagine, calls out the depths on the VHF radio as we follow them into the shallow channel at dead low tide.  The lowest depth is eight feet and all is good as we peer at the sand through the clear turquoise waters.  Ed seamlessly allows the current to push the salty boat towards a long fuel dock where Kathy and Darius from Breeze Hunter grab our lines.  Blackthorn and Edelweiss are anchoring out while Jim, on Blackthorn, dives on his prop.
It is 7:30 a.m.  Twenty-five hours have passed since the journey began. An hour later we are in a slip. The yellow quarantine flag waves above Imagine's deck.  We clear customs by 10:00 a.m. and raise the Bahamian courtesy flag. We straighten the boat and toast a bagel.  Next we contact our family to let them know we are safe.

Music from Count Basie Square at the Port Lucaya Marketplace is festive and seasonal.  I sit in the cockpit enjoying a soft breeze under blue skies surrounded by the colorful Bahamian waters.  Palms trees seem to sway in time as Bahamians in the square belt out Christmas Carols with a lilting sing song accent.  "Oh night when Christ was born, oh night divine, ya mon!" 

In the square palm trees are adorned with colorful Christmas lights.  A 25 foot tree sits among toys and packages. Bahamians bombard Ed calling out  who their Christmas wishes.  Without a drop in the beat he answers, "I'm going to have to think about that.  I know what you were doing last  Thursday night."  Everyone laughs.  The ladies want to touch his beard.

What a difference a few hours can make.  Was it only a few hours ago that I was saturated with seawater?  There's the saying that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel.  Well we found it.

I wish everyone a joyous holiday season and a New Year filled with only the best that it has to offer.

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.