Current Position 26 35.79N 77 00.53W

Powell Cay Adventure

Here we sit in Man O’War, enjoying the warm weather and tropical breeze. Well, ok, today it’s a bit cool and the breeze is more like a wind, but it’s still better than a real winter. Since our arrival in mid-December the weather has been terrific with only a couple of cold days. Quite a change from our last trip when the temperatures turned cold around Christmas and stayed that way until February.

But it’s not like we’re just sitting around doing nothing – we’ve been busy. Our hosts, Jay and Jan Manni, had ordered some furniture from the States some time ago and it finally arrived in Marsh Harbour (the main “city” of the Abacos, about 5 miles away). Arrangements were quickly made for it to be put on the local freight boat and brought over to their house. Now this isn’t a simple matter because the cay that the house is on (called Dickie’s Cay) has no freight dock, roads or other infrastructure. Each house is on its own property with its own dock.

Jay and Jan have allowed for that by creating their own version of a freight dock. There are two pilings driven into the seabed behind the property in the Sea of Abaco. Built into the hillside leading up from the water is a deck. The freight boat pulls up to the pilings and uses its crane to unload onto the deck. So far, so good, however, the house is up on a hill beyond the deck. As it wasn’t deck furniture that they ordered that meant that the furniture had to be carried along a winding path and upstairs into the house. And the guys on the freight boat weren’t going to do it. The funny thing is, carrying the furniture wasn’t too bad but tearing down the shipping crates and carrying the crate pieces away, was. The furniture is beautiful and it was worth the effort.

The Manni’s had company staying with them over the holidays and one day we took the gang over to Hopetown in Malolo (for those naysayers, note that we left the dock). As they were from Calgary, heading out “to sea” in a cruising sailboat is not something that they did on a regular basis. In fact three out of four had never done so. We motored across in a bit of a headwind, anchored outside the harbour and dinghied in to spend a few hours ashore. Our trip home was much more fun because we could sail. We put the crew to work hoisting sails, shut down the engine and enjoyed a nice (albeit short) sail back to Man O’War.

Now the trick with our dock in Man O’War is that we can only get in at around mid-tide or higher. We planned our outing to leave at about mid-tide before the high, which meant we would be coming back at mid-tide after the high, which for obvious reasons is known as a “falling tide”. In general, it is better to be on a rising tide because then if something happens (as in the ocean floor lifting itself up to snag the bottom of the keel), all you have to do is wait a little bit as the tide rises and float off. Needless to say, a falling tide has the opposite effect – if the boat hits bottom, you’re stuck as the water drops through the low tide until it starts rising again past the point where the grounding occurred and the boat refloats.

Of course we knew all of this and therefore made sure that we were back in Man O’War before the tide dropped too much for us to get to the dock. Or so we thought.

We entered the harbour and made our approach to the dock. One hundred feet away, fifty feet away, twenty feet away, twenty feet away, twenty feet away. Oh, oh. Two and a half hours to low tide and we were stuck. We tried tying the halyard from the top of the mast to a moored boat and winching ourselves over so that the boat would heel and lift the keel, but no luck. We weren’t going anywhere. We unloaded the crew, ran lines to the dock to allow us to pull ourselves in when the tide came up and waited. And waited. And waited. One of our neighbours had once described the feeling of being aground waiting for the tide to rise as the same thing as sitting in the car waiting for your wife to finish grocery shopping. Not a bad description.

At around 7:30 that evening, after being aground since 2:15 in the afternoon, we started to move. As the water continued to rise we pulled on the lines running to the dock and in fairly short order we were tied up as if nothing had happened. Now the interesting thing about the timing is that we were afloat about 15 minutes more past low tide than when we ran aground before low tide. In other words, if we had arrived in the harbour 15 minutes earlier than we did, we wouldn’t have run aground. Oh well, as one of our friends here says, “sometimes you watch the show, sometimes you ARE the show”. We were the show that day.

A more successful outing was made in Jan's 18 foot open boat to "catch" some conch. "Catch" isn't quite the right word because it's not like the conch try to run away, nor do you have to trick them into being caught. You simply see them on the bottom, dive down and pick them up. They don't even know what's happening so it's not like they try to run away or anything. Jan towed us (me and the four women visitors) on a line over the conching grounds until we got to a likely spot where we would all head off in search of dinner. We came back with enough for some conch salad.

Early in January we decided to head back north a bit to Green Turtle Cay to meet up with our friends Dick and Deb, and to visit Powell, the dogs’ favourite place, probably in the world (note, second time leaving the dock). We left in the early afternoon on a beautiful Sunday, with a rising tide (smart, eh?). We knew that we wouldn’t be able to get into Green Turtle until the next day because of the tides, so we decided to make Guana Cay, only about 8 miles away, our first stop.

Being Sunday, Guana is a busy place because Nippers, the local hotspot, has a pig roast that is party central. And it was. We met up with some friends who were heading south and had a nice time enjoying an adult beverage or two, walking the beach and watching the shenanigans. The next morning we were on our way again, heading up through the Whale and on to Green Turtle.

Tuesday the forecast cold front blasted through with a vengeance. Winds to 50 knots and temps into the 50’s at night and 60’s in the day. Our first (and so far only) taste of a strong cold front. We stayed put for a couple of days, visiting our friends and walking the beach. Well, we walked the beach, the dogs terrorized it. They were so exhausted after doing the beach for three days that they literally didn’t want to leave the boat. I guess they are finally starting to show their age (almost 10)!

The weather settled down by Friday so off we went to Powell. Unlike the previous visit, the dogs were still so tired that they weren’t chomping at the bit to get ashore. However, once we did go ashore, they couldn’t hold back and ran (almost) as wildly as usual. We decided that since they were tired out and the weather and tides were good, we’d head for home on Saturday. Just as we were pulling up our anchor our friends from Green Turtle pulled in to the anchorage, having stayed behind when we left because they were suffering a bit of the flu. They tried to convince us to stay another night (almost successfully) but since we were all packed up and knew the tide the next day would make it difficult to get in to Man O’War, we carried on with our planned departure.

We arrived at Man O’War a little early so we anchored in the Sea of Abaco behind Jay and Jan’s house. While sitting there we saw a small boat approaching. As it got closer we recognized the daughter of the first owner of Malolo, who still has the house and dock where Malolo “lived” for some 25 years. As she got closer we could see that she was waving wildly and yelling, “she’s yellow”, “she’s yellow”. Now that may sound funny to some, but we knew what she was so excited about. On our first trip to the Bahamas we had learned that Malolo had always been painted a pale yellow colour (as had all of the builder’s boats, houses, buildings, etc.) and this year we had changed her colour back to that original yellow (or as close to it as we could figure). Pam was pleased to see that. We headed in to the dock when the tide allowed.

A week or so later we got an e-mail from our friends Ted and Diana on board Deliverance telling us their planned departure date from Florida for the Bahamas. Time to head north again.

We picked a beautiful day with a nice breeze to head back up to Powell where we would meet Deliverance in a day or two on their way south (third time leaving the dock, but who’s counting?). We actually sailed the whole way up to Powell, except for the last hour or so. It was slow going, but quiet and peaceful without the engine banging away.

Powell Cay (Again!)

The dogs were fully recovered from their last trip and were raring to go when we got there. And go they did. Ted and Diana showed up the next day and we had a good time beachcombing and catching up, ending with a nice dinner aboard Deliverance.

Speaking of beachcombing, with all our outings we’ve managed to build quite a collection of sea beans. These are seeds from trees far away in the Caribbean or even Africa that float across the oceans and finally end up on a beach. They typically are about an inch or inch and a half in diameter and about half an inch thick. They are usually entangled in the seaweed on the beach that washes up in storms and very high tides and are not easy to spot.

The really good ones are called hamburger beans because they have a dark stripe around the middle and lighter top and bottom making them look like a hamburger in a bun. Our collection now stands at seven beans and three hamburger beans. Considering we’ve only found two or three beans and no hamburger beans in the past, that’s pretty impressive! Along with the beans, we’ve built quite a collection of shells and other sea collectibles.

The original plan had been to stay at Powell another day then head to Green Turtle Cay for a couple of days but the way the weather forecast looked it seemed that if we didn’t leave for Man O’War we may not get another chance for at least a week. Up with the anchor and off we went.

Now Deliverance may be a slow power boat, but “slow” in power boat language is a lot different than “slow” to a sailboat. Ted did everything he could to keep us close. He made side trips to explore the islands we were passing, he circled us, he slowed down, at one point he even anchored in the middle of the Sea of Abaco to wait for us. But he did wait and we arrived at Man O’War together.

Speaking of Deliverance, she’s a beauty. Custom designed and just launched in the spring of 2011 she has a similar design to Grayling, an old sardine carrier that Ted had rebuilt in the past, but in a smaller package. Most of the fittings are bronze and they’re already developing the beautiful patina that bronze gets.

In keeping with the style of the boat, Ted located an old Gardner diesel engine that he had rebuilt. It weighs a couple of thousand pounds and turns at a slow 1200 or so RPM’s. The sound of her running is like no other. Needless to say, she turns heads wherever she goes.

In addition to outings in Malolo, we’ve also made supply runs to Marsh Harbour in a friend’s trawler and another aboard Deliverance. This week I had my first sail aboard a cruising catamaran. Cruising cats are becoming more and more popular every year. On my first trip south in the early nineties, it was unusual to see a cruising cat and most that you saw were homebuilt. Now it seems that almost a quarter of the cruising boats are cats, so it was nice to see what it’s all about. A friend here was looking for some help trying out his cruising spinnaker, so off I went.

I have to say that the motion and sounds are very different than a monohull and would take some getting used to (and that was on a calm day!). I think I’ll stick to traditional for now. On the other hand, the cruising spinnaker was a beautiful sail that really moved the boat along nicely. It’s about the right size for Malolo, so if it goes missing, well, never mind, you never know who might be reading this blog, right Barry?

Up next is Superbowl on the big screen with Jay and Jan, Man O’War fair in a couple of weeks, then who knows? If the weather stays good we’ll probably head south, either in company with Deliverance or on our own. We’d like to cruise through Exuma again, and we’ve never been to some of the other southern islands such as Cat, Long and Conception so we’re looking at heading that way for a couple of months. Or we may just stay here.

Howard and Donna (and Storm and Zephyr)
On board Malolo at the dock, but not stuck to the dock, in Man O’War Cay

Current Position 26 35.79N 77 00.53W

As they say in the Bahamas, we “done reach”. We’re tied to our friend’s dock here in Man O’War Cay with our long travel days behind us.

Elizabeth City, NC to St Augustine, FL

When we were in Elizabeth City, before we discovered our engine mount problem, we lamented the fact that our timing was bad for Taco Tuesday at Thumpers, the local bar, and Friday soup night at the Back Street Pub in Beaufort. After all, we’d be leaving Elizabeth City on Saturday and leaving Beaufort sometime during the week once the weather was good for our next passage south. Once we discovered the problem and knew that we would be stuck until at least Tuesday morning, our consolation was that we could go to Wing Night at Thumpers on Monday, even though we would still miss Taco Tuesday. When we didn’t get the part until Tuesday afternoon, well, what could we do but celebrate with a few tacos.

We left Wednesday morning with the newly welded motor mount working perfectly and rushed through the Intracoastal to Beaufort, arriving on, you guessed it, Friday afternoon. Perfect. Fortunately our friend’s dock in Beaufort was available so we had a nice spot to tie up for the night. And to make it even better, the weather looked great for a Saturday departure for points south, hopefully Florida.

Friday afternoon, our friend Mike from Morehead City, a neighbouring town to Beaufort, picked us up and took us to his house where we saw his latest boatbuilding project. The dogs had a chance to run free in his fenced-in yard and took advantage of that by ducking into the house through the unlatched “doggy door” and devouring as much of the dog food they found inside as they possibly could before we finally figured out where they were. Mike loaded us up with some firewood since we had burned almost all of ours with the all of the cold weather. Hopefully we won’t need it until the trip home, if at all.

Friday evening we went to the Backstreet Pub with Jim, our host, enjoyed pizza for supper (with leftovers for our passage) and wandered around town. Saturday morning we got the boat ready headed to the fuel dock to load up and went out the inlet on our way south. The weather forecast looked terrific – light air (which in our old boat we like) and settled weather. We were a bit surprised that the sea state forecast was for three to five foot waves, but we assumed that was a leftover from the earlier winds and would settle down quickly. Wrong.

The seas were coming from winds elsewhere, because we had no wind. That meant that the boat rocked and rolled from side to side, stem to stern, with no way to steady her because there was no wind. Not very pleasant, but at least we were motoring at a decent clip. We arrived at the “Frying Pan Shoals Slue”, a marked channel through the shoals that saves going all the way out and around the seaward tip of the shoal, at around midnight. There was a small problem. The lit buoy that marks the entrance to the Slue wasn’t there, or so it seemed. We turned on the radar and found the buoy, but it wasn’t lit. We weren’t sure if this was because the slue was no longer a viable passage, or simply a problem with the light so we called the Coast Guard on the radio. They informed us that there was no problem with the passage, and thanked us for reporting that the light was “extinguished”. We carried on through the slue, rocking and rolling the whole way, finding the unlit inside buoys by radar finally coming out the south end two hours later.

On we went, rolling to port, rolling to starboard, then back to port again. Finally, about 24 hours after leaving Beaufort the seas started to ease and the waves lengthen making the ride more comfortable. The temperature kept rising, so much that we opened the dorade vents letting fresh air into the cabin for the first time since Marion. As we approached Charleston, the ride was considerably smoother so we decided to carry on, at least as far as St Mary’s Inlet and hopefully further. By the time we were about 30 miles from St. Mary’s we were motoring along in a gentle swell, so on we went.

The swell started building again and the rolling quickly followed. As we approached St. Augustine we decided that we couldn’t take another 36 hours of rolling, which is what it would take to get to our ultimate destination of Stuart, FL so we headed for the St. Augustine inlet. The inlet is not straightforward, with the buoys constantly being moved to follow the deeper water, and a dog leg in the channel. With the swell coming in and the tide going out, there was quite a commotion in the water, with breaking waves on either side of the deep water. We chugged our way along with the very strong outgoing current doing everything it could to stop the boat and turn it around. Our boat speed was less than three knots for most of the way in and for a period it dropped to only a knot and a half. It seemed to take forever to get in, although in reality it was only about an hour. We tied up to a mooring and relaxed.

St Augustine, FL to Stuart, FL

Our intent was to head back out as soon as the weather permitted and carry on to Stuart. The weather had other ideas. The forecast was for strong, contrary winds for as far as the eye could see. After a couple of days in St. Augustine we decided to bite the bullet and head down the intracoastal where the weather doesn’t really matter. We left Friday morning and spent the next few days motoring along with dozens of other boats, some going our way, some going the other way, virtually all of them going faster than us. Some of the areas were interesting, most were not. Some of the bridges opened for us when we arrived, others did not.

Our first night we decided to take a marina slip in New Smyrna because it was reasonably priced and we needed to regroup after our first day of “slow passes”, boat wakes, bridges and what-have-you. Next day we carried on towards Cocoa Beach, which is just past Cape Canaveral. You know, the rocket place. Just as we approached the end of the body of water leading up to Canaveral we heard a VHF transmission saying that "the Atlas rocket launch will be in three minutes".

Now we had no idea that there was to be a rocket launch, but being so close and having a view of the launchpads straight ahead, we decided to slow down and see if we could watch it.

Sure enough a few (I'd bet just under three if I were a betting man) minutes later the radio came back to life. "Ten, nine, ..." and sure enough, "Blastoff" and off it went. Donna managed to take a couple of photos while I tried to control the boat in the current and wind. They're not the greatest, but neither were conditions.

After an uneventful stay in Cocoa, we headed off for the infamous Vero Beach. We had heard all kinds of stories about Vero Beach and how once you were there it was hard to leave (hence its nickname “Velcro Beach”). Well, it wasn’t hard for us to leave.

It’s a nice enough harbour, with lots of moorings. However, instead of one boat per mooring as it is virtually everywhere else, in Vero there are three boats on each mooring. One boat is tied to the mooring and a boat ties off either side of the “mothership”. Very cosy. As one of our friends warned us, it’s ok if your neighbor is “muy simpatico”, but it can be otherwise.

The weather forced us to stay an extra night so we decided to get the full Vero experience and take the public transit to the shopping area. The buses are free (apparently one of the benefits of “Velcro”), but not very organized. One fellow had a “schedule” – he told us that it at least lets you know one time that the bus will NOT be there. Off we went. As we got off at our stop a local asked the driver when the next bus would be along for the return trip. The driver looked at his watch and said that as it was now twelve fifteen, he would be back at one fifteen.

We did our shopping and finished up before one. We couldn’t find anywhere to get something to eat and we didn’t know if we could make it all the way to the grocery store and back to pick something up in fifteen minutes, so we just headed out to the bus stop. Good thing that we did. The bus showed up around five after one instead of one fifteen. If we had not arrived at the stop early, we would have missed the bus (so to speak) and had to wait at least another hour.

The next day was to be our last as Intercoastal Warriors, or so we thought, as we headed to Stuart. Our plan was to stop nearby to visit friends, then head grab a mooring in Stuart, get the boat ready for the Bahamas, load up with provisions and head out the nearby St. Lucie Inlet when the weather turned favourable. We arrived at Manatee Pocket just around the corner from Stuart around noon and spent a great afternoon and evening visiting with our friends Andre and Olga, who were leaving their boat at a marina there while they traveled home for the holidays.

Wednesday morning we hauled anchor and set off for the Stuart mooring field. It’s a pretty crowded field and often full, but our friends Don and Susan had spotted an empty mooring and gave us directions to find it. As we approached, another boat pulled off the fuel dock and seemed to be looking for a mooring as well. The race was on!

He cut inside us and headed into the field. We knew that he was one row short of the empty mooring that our friends had told us about, so after a strategy discussion, we cut the corner and headed right for it. We put our boat between his and the mooring, blocking his view and giving us first chance to grab it. We rounded the mooring, headed right for it and grabbed it – we won! As we congratulated ourselves we noticed that the other boat was approaching a different empty mooring with a dinghy tied to it. Hmmm, it seems that he already had a mooring and was simply coming back from the fuel dock to pick it up. Oh well, we had our mooring.

We stayed on the mooring for a few days while we did some boat work, rented a car to do our final shopping and helped the local economy in the evenings. While there, we heard stories that the St. Lucie Inlet had shoaled and was quite difficult to navigate except in good weather. That limited our options for leaving as it is often necessary to leave in the dark in order to take advantage of short weather windows. We decided that the day before a potential crossing opportunity we would head to Lake Worth and wait there to leave. We left from Lake Worth our previous two trips so we were very familiar with the inlet and it is easy to use, day or night.

Stuart, FL to Man O'War Cay, Bahamas

Tuesday, December 6 was the day. The forecast for Tuesday night and Wednesday was for the winds to turn from the east (dead on the nose) to southeast and drop to 10 to 15 knots. We left the mooring Tuesday morning and spent our truly last day as Warriors “driving” the 30 miles or so to Lake Worth. We arrived late afternoon, happy to put the last of the bridges, slow passes and wakes behind us. We anchored in our favourite spot, looked around and saw more boats than we had ever seen anchored in Lake Worth. Apparently there hadn’t been a weather window for quite some time so there were a lot of boats anxious to make the crossing. It seemed that we wouldn’t be alone heading across.

Based on the forecast, we expected the wind to start shifting sometime overnight. We left our VHF radio on so that we could hear reports from boats that left early and dozed in the main saloon. We checked the winds every couple of hours, but no shift was apparent. By around 2:30am the wind hadn’t shifted direction but it had started to get lighter. We listened as a couple of boats heading out talked to each other and conditions seemed to be good, so up came our anchor. As we started moving we could see lights on many other boats as they also hauled up anchor. Heading out the inlet was like being in a line of traffic on the highway. Boats everywhere. We set our course and we were on our way.

As the night turned to day we could see a few of boats around us as we all made our way across the Gulf Stream to our various destinations in the Bahamas. We crossed into the Bahama Banks at around 1pm after a fairly easy crossing, with not enough wind to sail and only a bit of roll to the seas. We motored across the banks towards our destination of Great Sale Cay. We had hoped to carry on all the way to Green Turtle Cay but a cold front was predicted to cross over the banks in the early morning so we decided to take protection at Great Sale and see how things looked Thursday morning.

As we traveled across the Banks, we heard lots of radio traffic from boats already at Great Sale and others getting close (we’re not exactly the fastest boat on the block). We realized that there were going to be a lot of boats there, and while it’s a fairly large anchorage it would be difficult finding a spot amongst the boats in the dark. We needn’t have worried. There were about a dozen boats already anchored when we arrived around 9pm, but we easily found a spot that would offer protection from the expected overnight winds. About five more boats arrived after us.

As predicted, the front passed through at around 3:00am. We woke up to the sound of howling wind, checked that our anchor was holding and went back to sleep. By morning (civilized morning, that is) the wind had shifted again to the north and was blowing about 20 knots. We decided that although we would have to head straight into the wind and seas for the first five miles or so, it was worth leaving because the rest of the trip would see the wind behind the beam. Apparently most of the other boats made the same decision because, once again, it was like a highway.

We hauled anchor and headed out, motoring against the waves but making good time. We rounded the corner and set sail, cut the engine and actually sailed for a few hours. The wind moved more towards the bow and died down a little, so on went the engine. Most of the other boats from the anchorage, well, actually ALL of the other boats from the anchorage, had passed us by around 1pm. As a couple of boats passed by they radioed us to say that they had nice pictures of us under sail. I guess that’s one benefit of being slow and “stately” as one of the boats called us! Most of the other boats were carrying on to Manjack Cay where everyone (except us, it seems) likes to gather. We, on the other hand, like Powell Cay, an uninhabited island with beautiful beaches on both the Sea of Abaco and the Atlantic Ocean.

We arrived at Powell just before 5pm (with two other boats – what were they doing there?) and as soon as we were sure the anchor was holding we launched the dinghy. It was as if the dogs remembered the place. As we sat on the boat, the dogs anxiously looked towards the dinghy and shore. When we finally headed for shore the dogs were standing on the bow of the dinghy (which they don’t usually do) poised to jump at the first chance. Once we hit the beach, they were gone! They burned off more energy in the 45 minutes or so that we were on that beach than they had in the whole trip so far. I’m sure in their little heads they were saying, “Ah, I guess it was worth it”.

We spent a peaceful night at anchor, took the dogs ashore for another romp in the morning then headed off for Green Turtle to clear customs. We arrived around 9am, had our usual Green Turtle trouble getting our anchor to stick to the bottom, then headed in and completed the formalities.

Now it was decision time. The Sea of Abaco is too shallow south of Green Turtle for any but very shallow draft boats to pass. Becaues of this, in order to carry on to Man O’War we had to pass through the “Whale”, a passage out into the ocean, around a cay and then back in through a different cut. These cuts are very narrow and can be quite dangerous in the wrong conditions. The wind was still blowing out of the north and there was still a northeast swell, both of which are not good for conditions in the Whale. We tried to get local information but nobody seemed to have any. We saw a catamaran go through and not come back (nor issue a distress call), so that was a good sign. I managed to get some internet and saw on the local weather page that they said it would be rolly, but doable. We decided to go.

We hauled anchor and headed out. As we approached the cut, rain clouds moved in reducing visibility just to add to the fun. The swell was 4 to 6 feet and the wind waves were a couple of feet on top of that, making it rolly, but not too bad. The tide was coming in which helped flatten out the waves a bit, but slowed our speed down. We made it through, turned south and headed back in to the Sea of Abaco through the southern cut. It was not a pleasant ride, but we have had much worse.

We were glad that we decided to go because it really wasn’t bad. If we hadn’t picked up the internet in Green Turtle and seen the report that it was doable, we probably would have waited for better conditions. Now here’s the funny part – when we looked at the same page again once we were safely at dock in Man O’War we realized that the report was not for Whale Cay Passage but rather for the Sea of Abaco itself. We left under false pretenses!

Once back inside the Sea of Abaco we were in the lee of the islands and all was calm and easy. We motored the rest of the way to Man O’War, pulling out the jib as the wind allowed to help speed us along. Our friends met us on the dock. We were “home”.

We’ve settled in here, catching up on boat jobs, relaxing and enjoying seeing our friends again. Our plan is to stay here until after New Year’s then head back up through the Whale to meet some friends who will be crossing over from Florida, then heading back here in tandem with them. After that, who knows?

Howard and Donna (and Storm and Zephyr)
On board Malolo settled at the dock in Man O’War Cay

On a much sadder note, our very good friend Bart Shea recently passed away. We only knew him for a relatively few, short years but he was always an inspiration to us. He was always the first to offer to help when we were up to one of our crazy projects, adding a bit of sanity and knowledge to our plans. He added much to life in Stonehurst and it won't be the same without him.

Current Position 36 17.9N 076 13.1W

We're now tied to the wall in Elizabeth City where, as anyone following our Spot knows, we have been since last Thursday. It's a little longer than we expected, but more on that later.

Annapolis, MD to Hampton, VA

Tuesday morning arrived and the weather didn't seem all that great and we were feeling pretty lazy, so we decided to stay at the yacht club for one more day. After all, we had plenty of time to make it down the Bay and on to Hampton to meet up with Donna's family the following Tuesday.

For some reason, Donna decided to check on the internet to see if she could see where our friends from Holland on board "Lion King" were. We knew them through Dennis (whose yacht club we were visiting) and they visited us in Nova Scotia on their way south. Well there they were, sailing down the Chesapeake towards Annapolis. We told Dennis who called them and told them we were at the yacht club. They made a quick decision and a slight course alteration and headed to meet up with us at the club. We had a nice reunion that night and were very glad that we had been lazy and stayed put for the day.

Wednesday morning saw us off the dock bright and early and off to Solomons Island, about 45 miles away. We had a nice motor down the Bay in calm wind and flat seas and were anchored in the harbour by mid-afternoon. We planned on staying for a night or two, then make our way south. The weather, unfortunately, didn't cooperate. The winds were forecast to be blowing until Saturday night, which would make it a rush to get to Hampton in time. Saturday the winds were still blowing, but forecast to ease as the afternoon progressed. Time for plan B.

We left Saturday evening to do an overnight sail (using the term loosely) to Mobjack Bay, just north of Hampton. We didn't want to go directly to Hampton because the boats participating in the Caribbean 1500 rally to Tortola were occupying all of the slips and space at the anchorage. The rally was scheduled to leave Monday, so our plan was to spend the night in Mobjack, then head to Hampton Monday morning. We found a lovely anchorage off of the East River and spent a nice, relaxing day aboard.

In the afternoon I called the harbourmaster at Hampton City Piers to see if the rally was still on schedule to leave in the morning - "Yes, the weather looks good and they are leaving". That was before tropical storm (and then hurricane) Sean. We headed off for Hampton in the morning as planned. As we approached, we didn't see any boats heading out for the rally. Finally, we heard someone on the VHF call another boat about watching the rally start, only to be told that they were delayed until Wednesday. Oh, oh.

I called the harbourmaster and sure enough, the rally organizers made the decision that morning to postpone the start and see how Sean developed. Fortunately, she found us a slip at another marina, a little less central but still very convenient. We arrived around noon as planned and spent the rest of the day and the next doing boat jobs and wandering around town.

Hampton, VA to Elizabeth City, NC

Donna's parents and sister Heather arrived late Tuesday afternoon and Heather moved aboard for the trip through the Dismal Swamp. Donna's parents, being more sensible than the rest of us, stayed in a hotel and drove to Elizabeth City.

Wednesday morning we were up and ready to go in time to make the 11:00 locking at the Deep Creek lock in the Dismal Swamp. Unfortunately, the fog was so thick that we could barely see the bow of the boat. We waited for the fog to lift (which, unlike the fog in NS, it always does by mid-morning) and headed across the river to Norfolk and the entrance to the ICW. Our trip to the lock was uneventful, with beautiful fall colours all around.

Donna's parents arrived by car to watch us lock through. The lock grounds are restricted, but once Robert, the very friendly lock-keeper, found out that it was Donna's dad Willis trying to get a better view he took over a lifejacket for him to wear and invited him in. Robert showed him the workings of the lock, then told him for even more fun he should come over to the bridge control room and see the workings of the bridge that he would raise for us to go under. Quite a nice tour for Willis and some great pictures for us.

We spent the night in the canal then carried on through the second lock and on to Elizabeth City on Thursday. Surprising to us, instead of the usual crowd of boats, there were only about five in the docks and one tied to the wall that we like to use. Not complaining, just surprised. Even more surprising was the next morning when every single boat except us left the docks and only a couple showed up during the day. Very unusual compared to the normal 12 or 15 boats showing up every day.

We had a nice visit with Donna's family for a couple of days, using their car to run around and do some errands and using their hotel room for showers. Saturday morning they left for the drive back to London, ON and we decided to stay put for the day and leave Sunday morning. Good thing that we did.

Saturday afternoon I decided to install the new tachometer that had arrived for us in Elizabeth City. While I was using my handheld tach to read the engine speed, I noticed that the alternator was bouncing around more than it should. The alternator is attached to a platform that is bolted to the side of the engine (a "power takeoff"). The engine mount is bolted to the same platform. I thought that maybe the bolts holding it to the engine were loose, but no such luck. The plate was actually cracked and barely supporting the front of the engine. If it had broken right through while we were motoring the front of the engine may have dropped and who knows what damage would have resulted. We were lucky.

I called the local shipyard (again, the term used loosely) and left a message - being a Saturday, I was hoping for a call back Monday morning. Twenty minutes later the owner called back and shortly after that he was at the boat to have a look. The plan was that he would drop off a chain fall and some bracing that I could use to take the weight off the front of the engine and then remove the broken bracket. Once I had it off, he would pick it up and weld it. The plan seems to be working, but a little more slowly than we expected.

He dropped off the hoist Monday afternoon instead of Sunday, and it's now Tuesday afternoon and no word on the part being fixed yet. Hopefully it will be done this afternoon and we can get everything back together for a morning departure. If not, well, at least it's a nice spot and the dockage is free (and the local watering hole Thumpers is close by and has good specials). We've even had a few nice, warm days (and nights) although that is supposed to change tomorrow night with the passing of a front and lows back down into the 30's (F).

Howard and Donna (and Storm and Zephyr)
On board Malolo in Elizabeth City, NC

Late Breaking News: We got the motor mount back, all welded together. I reinstalled it and everything seems good so we're off in the morning.

Current Position 38 54.2N 076 30.4W

Well, the weather treated us even better than expected and we were able to get away Saturday afternoon instead of Sunday. Our friends Don and Susan visited us for a couple of hours Saturday morning (and drove us to West Marine – thanks!) on their drive down to their boat in Florida. After they left we checked the forecast and conditions and decided to head out. We had a fantastic (if a bit long) stay in Marion and have nothing but good things to say about it. The people are extremely nice, going out of their way to stop and say hello. The harbourmaster did everything he could, and more, to help us out. A very cruiser friendly town.

Marion, MA to Cape May, NJ

We knew the seas would still be pretty high from the winds over the past few days, and we were right! What we didn’t know was that the forecast northwest wind would actually be southwest, as in, on the nose. It wasn’t too strong so we motored into it for several hours as it eased and shifted more towards the north. But it was rolly.

As the evening progressed into night the seas eased a little and our speed increased as we had a favourable current. By about 3am we were in the lee of Long Island and the seas were calm, along with the wind. We had purposely stayed close to Long Island rather than go in a straight line to Cape May because we were hoping for protection from the seas and we got it. By staying close it also meant that our heading to Cape May after passing New York City would be more southerly and give us a better heading into the forecast southwest winds. That didn’t work as well because the winds never developed and we motored the rest of the way in flat calm seas.

As we approached Cape May Monday morning, we saw a “mega yacht” turning towards the inlet. Being the prudent folk that we are, we decided to let the 150 foot (give or take a few) boat go in ahead of us. Big mistake. He went so slowly up the channel that we couldn’t stay behind him. We had to pass him just so we could maintain enough speed to keep control of the boat in the current. I can’t imagine what he was thinking going so slow, nor how a boat that size could go so slowly, but that’s what he did.

As we rounded the corner into the harbour we were hopeful that the anchorage would be fairly empty. There are usually a lot of boats there and not a lot of room, especially because of the strong currents and the ship’s channel. We thought that because we were early we would be ahead of other boats arriving and because it was a pretty good day to head from Cape May up the Delaware, the boats already there would have left. Wrong. It wasn’t packed, but there were eleven other boats at anchor. Oh well, we found a decent spot and set the hook.

After a couple of hours, once we were sure that the anchor was holding, we launched the dinghy to take the dogs ashore. As we did, we saw a friend on a boat from Maine who had stayed on our mooring in the summer pull in to the anchorage. On our way back to the boat we stopped in to say hi – you never know who you will meet along the way. Overnight Monday the wind started to howl from the northwest and by Tuesday was blowing quite strongly. Needless to say, we stayed put in Cape May waiting for things to settle down. We dragged a bit on our anchor (which we were surprised about), but it reset itself with no problem.

Delaware Bay, our next body of water to transit, has strong currents and is fairly shallow allowing a steep chop to develop. We knew with the strong northwest winds it was not the time to go. Wednesday was forecast to have 10 to 15 knots from the southwest, which was much more feasible. We decided to wake up early Wednesday, check the forecast and if it still looked good, off we would go. From what we could see, if we didn’t get away Wednesday we would be stuck until at least Sunday and we weren’t really looking forward to that.

Cape May, NJ to Annapolis, MD

Well, sure enough, Wednesday morning the forecast was the same so we hauled up the anchor and headed out the canal to the Delaware. Apparently a lot of the large power boats had the same thought, because we were in a line of about 10 of them (including Mr. Slow Poke from our way in, now going a little faster). As we came out the canal and into the Bay it sure didn’t look like 10 to 15 knot winds. In fact, it looked, and felt a lot more like 20 to 25 knot winds with the seas to match. And it was. On top of that, the seas were broadside to our course. This was not going to be pleasant.

Donna sat on the floor of the pilothouse bracing the dogs while I steered. Waves crashed over the side of the boat, running through the pilothouse windows (which were not designed for this kind of action) and dripping (or some may say pouring) down on Donna. As we rolled from gunwale to gunwale we kept telling ourselves that the good news was that this would ease as we headed up the Bay into the narrower part where there was no room for waves to develop. The bad news was that it would take at least three hours before we would start to see that effect. And that’s what happened. By 11am or so, we were in fairly calm seas with a nice wind sailing along up the Bay. Donna changed into dry clothes, the motion settled down and all was forgotten. By about 5pm we were at anchor behind Reedy Island at the top of the Bay where we would spend the night before heading into the Chesapeake/Delaware Canal the next morning with the current in our favour.

I got up to check the anchor around 10pm and saw that we were on the move. There was little wind but a strong current and we were moving with it. I started the engine and backed down on the chain but that didn’t work. I let out more chain and that seemed to do the trick. Very strange. We had a less than restful sleep as we kept an eye on our position to make sure that we didn’t drag again (which we didn’t). As we hauled up the anchor in the morning we realized that some of our chain markings (that we use to mark the length of chain) were missing. We were misreading the length of chain we were putting out and that’s why we were having trouble and dragging. “Re-mark chain” went on the to-do list.

Thursday morning we were underway by 9am or so to catch the change of the tide at the C&D canal. We headed through and on to Worton Creek where, because of the forecast winds for the night, we decided to take a marina slip. Donna said that the cost would come out of her “allowance” because she really wanted to be at a slip for the night. As we motored in to the marina we passed a Quebec boat at anchor and noted for future reference that it looked like a very protected and pleasant anchorage.

Around 6pm that evening, as we were down below we heard a huge rushing noise. I went up top to see what was going on. The trees on the surrounding hills were bending in the wind as it rushed down the hillside. Seconds later the wind went from 0 to about 35 knots. I’ve never experienced anything like it. We spent a noisy night at the dock with the docklines creaking and groaning, but we did get the water tanks filled and the laundry done.

Friday morning, as we were preparing to leave a woman came down the dock. She asked if we could help them with their boat. It seems that they were the ones in that nice, protected anchorage and that when the blast of wind came through the night before the boat upped and left while they were on shore. It sailed across the harbour and came to rest broadside against the finger piers of the marina that we were in. The people climbed aboard and secured the boat and stayed there for the night and were now looking for help to get off. They were very lucky that none of the boats at dock stuck out beyond their fingers and that their boat came to rest against two fingers without causing any damage.

We suggested a couple of ways of trying to power off the dock but it wasn’t working. Finally, I got in their big inflatable with a big 15hp engine and pushed first their bow and then their stern off the dock so that they could clear everything. I yelled “thanks for the dinghy” to them as they powered off but either they weren’t in a joking mood or their English wasn’t good enough to get the joke but I didn’t see any smiles.

Once they were off, we finished our preparations and headed out from the marina. On our way by the anchorage we saw another cruising boat lying on her side against the shore opposite the anchorage – they weren’t as lucky as the French Canadians. Donna remarked that the marina fee would no longer come out of her allowance, but rather, the “insurance fund”. I couldn’t argue.

We had a nice trip down the Bay, arriving in Annapolis around 1pm. Annapolis has a large mooring field (about 45 moorings) that is normally fairly crowded but usually has a few empty mooring balls. As we pulled in to the town we saw something that we had never seen there before – only 3 boats. Hmmm, maybe it has something to do with the forecast for Saturday – 30 knot winds and snow and rain. Dennis, a friend who lives in the area was going to bring his boat around to Annapolis to meet up with us and spend the night. Needless to say, he called and said he had a change in plans and would drive over – smart move. We met up with him that evening for drinks, then spent a cold night on the boat.

We awoke (well climbed out of our berths, we were awake much of the night) Saturday to exactly what was forecast. Blowing, rainy (although not snowy in Annapolis, just further inland) and unpleasant. We braved the elements to get the dogs ashore and made it back to the boat without getting too wet. We tried telephoning another friend of ours, but the number that her husband had given us said that it was out of service – not sure what that was all about. As I was on the radio to the harbourmaster Tow Boat US hailed us. “Is that Howard and Donna?” she asked. “Well, yes it is”. “Muffin (our friend) wants you to give her a call and here’s her number”. Ah, one digit different than the one her husband had given us.

Off I go to get the phone and give it a try. This time, the line is constantly busy. I decide that I’ll try for another half hour or so and if I have no luck I’ll call Tow Boat US back and see if she can get in touch with our friend for us. Just about that time I received an e-mail from our friend with yet another one digit different phone number. Third time lucky. We arrange to meet up and Muffin drives us to her house (with a stop at the grocery store) where we can all warm up and stay dry while the dogs run around in her backyard with her dog. We watch the temperature continue to drop and the rain turn sleet-like until we finally have to head back to the boat. Fortunately it eased a bit for our dinghy ride out and we spent another cold, bouncy night aboard. Needless to say, our woodstove is getting quite a workout.

Sunday is a whole new day. Still cold, but not as bad, and sunny. We arrange to meet our friend Dennis around 2pm – he’s going to sail with us to his yacht club which is a little south of Annapolis where we can stay at a dock for a day or two. We wander around town, have some lunch (pastrami sandwiches from the deli in town – mmmmm good), then head over to the fuel dock to fill up and meet Dennis. We have a nice sail/motor to his club on South River, then spend an enjoyable evening eating, drinking and telling stories. Dennis stayed on his boat Sunday night then headed home on Monday after sharing coffee and breakfast with us. And here we sit, waiting for a front to pass today so that we can move on to Solomons Island tomorrow.

Howard and Donna (and Storm and Zephyr)
On board Malolo in Selby Bay, MD

Current Position 41 42.4N 070 45.5W

After our initial false start, we finally got away from the dock and headed south (well, a lot of west, but also south).

Bahamas Bound Again - Home to Marion, MA

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When we made our first attempt to leave on Saturday, we had only made it about a mile when we noticed that the bilge pump was running fairly constantly. A quick check below decks showed a steady flow of water coming from the transom. Not a good way to start a voyage. After a bit of circling and head-scratching, we decided to abort and head back to home port.

On Sunday, with the help of our neighbour we diagnosed our leak to a poorly caulked seam where the bottom planking meets the transom. We put a couple of drums on the bow and filled them with water to raise the seam out of the water, then reefed it out and recaulked it. The flow has stopped. Now that isn't to say that the boat doesn't leak, but at least it doesn't "flow".

Off we went Sunday evening as if we had planned it all along. We had a fairly uneventful trip, with only a few minor breakdowns and no real weather issues. The sailing was pretty well non-existent with winds just off the bow, or too light to move us along, so motorsailing was the name of the game. The weather was due to turn against us by Wednesday night, so we wanted to make sure that we arrived in port before that happened.

About 70 miles from Provincetown, we heard a fairly loud rattling noise coming from the engine. I took the cover off and had a look, but couldn't see anything amiss. The rattle seemed to come from the front of the engine, but I couldn't tell from where. We shut it down and I disconnected the alternator in case it was making the noise. No such luck. I reconnected everything and started up again. I noticed that if we revved the engine up a bit, the noise went away. When I slowed back down - no noise! Hmmmm. We ran the engine at lower revs than usual the rest of the way to the Cape Cod Canal, through the canal and on to Marion without a problem. A mechanic has had a look and can't hear/see anything wrong. He suggested that it might have been a stuck valve or something, but really had no answer. Hopefully we've heard the last of it.

We had never been to Marion, MA so we decided to make it our first stop - that and the fact that it is a customs clearing port and that the harbourmaster said that we could stay on a mooring for free! It is a very pretty town with beautiful homes and nice places to walk. And walk and walk and walk. We've been here a week already waiting for weather and we've been walking. It looks like at least Sunday before we get a good weather window to carry on. I don't think the harbourmaster realized we were moving in when he offered us a mooring!

One of the problems that we have always had making passages is getting current weather forecasts. We are usually in range of VHF weather, but that only covers the zone that we are currently traveling through, not what might be coming up in 150 miles and 24 hours later. We decided to install a SSB/Ham radio which gives us access to all the long distance frequencies which broadcast high seas weather and more (much like the old shortwave crystal radios, but we can transmit as well as receive). In addition, I passed the ham radio exam (I'm VE1HSR, but you can call me Howard) which, through the beauty of technology, lets us use the radio to send and receive e-mails while underway.

While it is nice to receive a friendly note while we're on a passage, the real advantage is that we can send a specially coded e-mail to NOAA and receive back a forecast for whatever area we requested. This allows us to receive weather forecasts for our whole passage, allowing us to plan our route and decide if we need to duck into port. It worked well on our way across the Gulf of Maine and I'm sure it will continue to help us the whole way down.

Our other big news is that the new coating (yes, another new coating) we put on our decks is working well and we have, touch wood, no deck leaks. We won't know how good it really is until the hot, Bahamian sun hits the decks and tries to dry them out, but so far, so good. And right about now, we could sure use some of that hot, Bahamian sun.

That's it from Marion. If the weather plays out as forecast, look for us to be on the move on Sunday, hopefully heading for Cape May, NJ with an expected arrival on Tuesday.

Howard and Donna (and Storm and Zephyr)
On board Malolo in Marion, MA