They say that time flies when you're having fun





 And we're having a lot of fun, so the days are slipping through my fingers at a scary fast rate. How can it be that 2 months have gone by since we put the boat up on the hard? Didn't Hannah tell us just yesterday that she was getting married? And more importantly, where has all the rum gone? This summer was a whirlwind 8000 roadtripping miles of family, fun, good friends, and amazing scenery. Once again we started in Virginia, headed to Minnesota and North Dakota to see our families, turned left and made our way to New Mexico, where there was a big party with a small wedding in the middle.

Our family grew by many as we welcomed not only our new son-in-law, Cameron, but his entire family into the fold. It was a very beautiful Hannah/Cameron/New Mexico wedding: a beautiful clear blue sky, a gorgeous estate, green and cool, a beautiful bride and her handsome groom, family and friends dressed in the very best of elegant picnic attire, a Dia de los Muertos bride and groom piñata, fish tacos, rum bar (courtesy of the bride's parents), sack races, wild flowers bouquets and dancing outside on the grass under the twinkling lights and stars. We, of the older generation went home by midnight, but the party went on into the wee hours and, from what I understand, continued the next day. As my dad said, after watching his first grandchild get married, "The bar has been set pretty high for the rest of the grandkids." 

  

After the wedding we continued our "wear out our welcome" tour of our families. We headed to Phoenix for a bit and then back to Albuquerque and on to northern New Mexico where we spent some time looking at land. We'd like to find somewhere to build a cabin and eventually do 6 months on the boat and 6 months off.
In between family visits, we were camping again. We usually stay at the KOA campgrounds, having a fondness for bathrooms and showers and such. Most of the KOA's have some kind of a gift shop with local kitsch for sale. It actually might be a requirement: the dusty forgotten gift shop to the left of the check-in. I've never bought anything but, I always look, I just never know what to expect. In the KOA in Tucumcari NM, I found a treasure, the new mug I've been looking for. It's bright sunshine yellow with a big red Zia sun on it. I love it!

Currently, we're back on the boat, but still in the yard. The picture above is the view from the cockpit, looking around the yard. There are lots of people here, working on boats in varying states of seaworthiness.  We'd planned a quick bottom paint job and then back in the water, BUT as with all things boat, the plans changed. It goes like this. We have a new anchor, it's bigger than the last one and it doesn't fit on the bow as well as it should. The anchor roller needed to be removed and moved back and re welded, so the anchor could fit properly.  Enter our friend, Billy, who has a shop with a TIG welder. Off came the bow spirit. It'll be another week.
The picture below is of Celebration on the hard, minus the bow spirit.

 

A really cool thing

One of the really cool things we've done lately, is sail through New York City. Not just to the city but through it. The East River runs 14 miles from the Throgs Neck bridge on the west end of Long Island Sound to the Battery on the southern tip of Manhattan. Steve did LOTS of planning for this passage. Currents on the river can reach 5 knots and we certainly didn't want to be going against them. At the midway point of the trip, where the East and Harlem rivers meet, the current can be so strong, the area is called Hell Gate. It didn't give these newbies warm and fuzzy feelings. The key was to time the currents so we could go through the city and continue on our way down the New Jersey coast.
Steve timed it perfectly and it was an amazing day.

We entered the East river, going under the Throgs Neck bridge, it was our first view of Manhattan.

                                              Sailing school, just past the bridge.

 

 

There were beautiful, expensive homes all along the river. Yes, that is a float plane in the garage.

We went under the bridge and past La Guardia airport and Rikers Island prison. Just across the river from Rikers was a maximum security barge. It had curling razor tape everywhere and a tunnel of the stuff leading to the barge. The upper left corner was a basketball court/outdoor area, also heavily razor wired.  I nicknamed it the 'party barge'. It made me claustrophobic just going by.

 

 

 



 

                  Another barge, this one looks like a residence with indoor and outdoor space.

 

 



 

   As we came around Rikers Island, we got our first good view of Manhattan. Hell Gate bridge is to the left.

 

There were so many beautiful old buildings and apartments. The rooftop gardens were everywhere.

Going through Hell Gate.

                                            The UN and the Chrysler building.

More beautiful apartments.

               River traffic, my captains course didn't cover right of way issues with planes.

                                                  Old and abandoned looking Domino Sugar mill.

                      Around another corner and our first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

The detail on the undersides of the bridges was ornate and beautiful. They don't build 'em like that anymore.

                            Brooklyn Bridge at the bottom of Manhattan.

 

 

One final corner and we were in busy New York harbor. The Statue of Liberty straight ahead. Tugs, ferries, planes, helicopters, sailboats, barges, and any and every other kind of conveyance in between.

It was a 2 hour trip through the city and one I'd really like to do again.

 

 

Tidbit: Throgs don't really have necks. The area around the bridge was name after the Rev. John Throggmorton who settled there in 1642 and it eventually was shortened to Throg.

 

Tidbit #2: The East river and the Harlem rivers are said to be the only rivers in the world with two mouths and no source.

 

 

I've gotten a little flack lately for not updating the blog. OK, I've gotten LOTS of flack and even a few hand grenades. but we were having so much fun at Gary and Alex's dock, time flew. We've been back in the US for about 6 weeks after our winter season in the VI's.  It's been great to use the phone and internet whenever I want, go to the grocery and find all the things on my list. Whaa hooo! It's the little things in life that are the most fun!

So we got pretty spoiled staying at a dock for a month. A dock with great friends and their great neighbors, unlimited access to a fabulous garden, gluten free bagel Sundays and use of a car. It was hard to leave. We actually stayed longer than planned because I needed a rather extensive physical and had the chance to do it all while we were there. Again, Alex, thanks a million for the use of your car.
We've been reacquainting ourselves with sailing in this part of the world. As Florida sailors we rarely had to deal with currents, tides were less than 2 feet and we seldom had fog. In New England the currents can run 4 knots, the tides rise and fall 8-10 feet twice a day (thus creating the current) and the fog just hangs around whenever it bloody well feels like it. It makes entering and exiting ports and canals a challenge: trying to figure out if we should go into a river with the current but against the wind, or against the current and with the wind, or wait for slack and motor like crazy.

Celebration on the dock behind Gary and Alex's house. We started out on a mooring ball, but the currents in the river were so strong and squirly, that we were doing wild loopdie loops around the ball. I think some of the neighbors complained that it was making them seasick to watch us, so we moved to the dock. The tide here is about 8 feet and combined with the strong river flow it makes for some serious eddies. This picture is at high tide, you can see the bridge to the dock is level.

                                                      Low tide and we all but disappeared.

           Fog in the Cape Cod canal, odd to be going under a bridge and not really be able to see it.

Greetings from in the fog

Morning in Block Island, RI, in the fog and rain.

As Jim pointed out in the comments about our last posts, this is quite a change from St Croix. In the course of 2 weeks we've gone from hot, sunny days, warm turquois waters and balmy nights under the stars, to cold, wet, foggy and "Have you seen my gloves?" As we came north from Bermuda, adding layer upon layer of clothing, I kept asking Steve "Whose idea was this anyway?" He was always very quick to point out that it was mine. Hmmmm.

We decided (back on one of those balmy warm nights, when we couldn't even imagine cold) to sail north, in one chunk, as far as we're going to get this year and then work our way south along the east coast before putting the boat up and driving around the country, bothering our relatives along the way. We almost made it. We're just south of our final destination of Amesbury MA and the home of friends Alex and Gary and their mooring on the Merrimac River. We ducked into Block Island to avoid yet another cold front and it's accompanying storms. Beautiful, but the mooring rates have gone up 50% since last we were here, it's now $45 a night. We'll be leaving ASAP.

The entrance to Salt Pond, looking north.

We had a nice trip up from the USVI. I won't use the 'b' word again, but it was nicely uneventful. Just a couple of days of sloppy seas, good wind most of the way and another 1500 miles under the keel. We didn't plan a stop in Bermuda, but the weather decided for us. It was a wonderful surprise and has been added to the list of places to go back to. I have loads of pictures and will do a separate post on Bermuda soon.

Last of the Salty Dawgs

May 31st:

It's getting a little lonely out here as most the bigger, newer, faster boats in the rally continue to make port. Several made it this morning, a few more will reach port tonight. We on the other hand expect to be in sometime Sunday so we'll be the last on the Salty Dawg net for this Spring Rally

Meanwhile it remains pretty much like we like it....not too eventful. Today we are seeing wind and that will continue to pick up through the remainder of our trip. Right now we are crossing the Gulf Stream several hundred miles south of Block Island. Rolly and a few squalls, confused seas like the stream does but we have ~15 more miles to where we expect the north bound. We'll be through it by day and expect the sea to settle, and a bit better point to the west. Winds forecast 15-18kts or so for the night and tomorrow..should be good sailing. We are looking forward to being on land again.

Position
Time: 2013/05/31 20:10:40 (GMT)
Latitude: 37-12.68N
Longitude: 070-33.85W
Speed: 6.0

Steve & Lynn


May 30th:

Another day at sea and all is well. We have decided not to go around the Cape this trip but to go inside. On going around the cape. We are going inside. Wind is forecast to be pretty strong from the west and WSW (25-35) while we would be outside...then followed by another cold front on Monday eve/Tuesday. Right now going west far enough to make it an easier reach when the wind picks up.  We should be somewhere in Buzzards bay, most likely Cuttyhunk or Woods Hole by Sunday afternoon.  Would have loved to have made it one shot but not to be this trip. No desire on this boat to be in weather already forecast to be bad if we can avoid it.

Boat chores: put one of the backup anchors on the bow this AM while the weather is good and seas settled. A little vegetable oil in the evacuation pump for the holding tank and working through another John Scalzi novel
.
Position:
Time: 2013/05/30 15:14:29 (GMT)
Latitude: 35-02.71N
Longitude: 068-46.19W

Steve & Lynn

In Bermuda!

My apologies for not posting anything up until this point but they are safe and sound in Bermuda.  Here is the most recent report:

Sitting St Georges Harbor, Bermuda. We resigned ourselves to a couple things two days ago. First that we would have to stop in Bermuda or be subjected to forecasted 35kt winds with squalls up to 50kts as we crossed the gulf stream. Second that we couldn't reach Bermuda by tonight so would have to wait off shore to enter.

After two days of spectacular sailing we are just 5 miles out and will be in before dark. Not sure how it worked but the seas stayed flat and the good ship Celebration ran steady across them making between 6.5 to 7.5 knots over the 48 hours. One point this morning we slowed to 4, then after sever hours it picked up again. TO insure the extra speed I experimented with flying the storm jib on it's sta in the foretriangle. Love it, extra 25 feet of leading edge with no impact on the genny, more speed and yes I took some pics for posting later...double headsails with Bermuda in the background.

Maintenance: One water-maker membrane is good, the other bad. The bad one is now plumbed out of the system; we're down to making just 20 gallons/hr. Hot showers and a cold drink tonight once we're settled.

Time: 2013/05/23 22:50:54
Latitude: 32-22.43N
Longitude: 064-40.53W
St Georges Harbor, Bermuda

Buck Island, St Ctoix

The day started with the palest of sunrises, a barely-grey morning that slowly went silver, then yellow. We sat in the cockpit sipping coffee, watching the pelicans and frigate birds shake off the night and begin their breakfast dance. The pelicans and gulls diving and fishing, the frigate birds stealing from any and all.
We were anchored just off the beach of Buck Island in St Croix. Buck Island is a park, run by the US Park Service that's just a mile or so off the coast of STX. It's uninhabited and boats need a permit to stay overnight. During the middle of the day, the place is crowded with day snorkelers and beach walkers, but at evenings and in the early morning, it's just us boaters and there were only 5 of us.

It was a pale, gentle start to the day.

View from the beach, MrMac is centered and Celebration is on the right.

 

We had sailed out to BI to meet our best buds and sometime buddyboaters, Chris and Anne on MrMac. They had just arrived from the marine shopping mecca of St Martin and were in need of distraction. The weather was perfect: the clouds were almost too white, the sky was almost too blue, there were almost too many shades of turquois in the water to count. We did our best to appreciate it all. We snorkeled and hiked and  sundownered until way past dark.

 



 

I love that last line. With all our stopping and picture taking and gazing at the views and lizard watching, it took us much longer than 1 hour. We saw no other hikers even though the beach was busy.

 

 

The top of a Turks Head cactus, tiny pink flowers and bright pink seeds.

 

 

The bromeliads and air plants were everywhere.

 

Buck Island is an interesting combination of cacti and succulents and tropical plants. It's very dry most of the year and very, very wet the rest of the time. Average rainfall is about 40 inches, most of it coming from August to November.

The reef on the north side of Buck Island, from the viewing platform 300 feet up the hill. We sat here a long time.

 

 

Updates

I'm back from my 3 week trip up north. I've actually been back for 2 weeks now, but the sun is so sunny and the water so blue, I've had a hard time staying inside to write about it. I headed back to Minneapolis (where it was 3. Three shouldn't even be a number when it comes to temperature.) to do wedding dress shopping with Hannah, who is getting married in August, and MOH dress shopping with Amanda, who is her MOH. It was a grand time, lots of family and laughter, some tears. My little girls are all grown up.

After Mpls I headed to Phoenix to thaw and see more family, and do a side trip to Mexico to stay in my sisters lovely condo on the Sea of  Cortez. I flew back to St Thomas and we immediately sailed south. We made it back to St Croix just in time for St Paddy's day. 

 

For some unknown reason, St Pat's day is a HUGE here.  Personally, I think it's because it falls right in the middle of Lent and it's a great opportunity to let loose for a day. Whatever the reasons, the partying starts early in the morning and goes late into the night, or in this case, until 4am.

 

We watched a 3 hour parade where the spectators were just as much fun to watch as the floats and bands. Everyone was in green. Green hair, green skin, green glasses, hats, shoes, socks. Water fights were had, drinks were lifted, we all had a wonderful time under the bright, hot sun.



 

 

 

Love his sideburns.

There were girls twirling flaming hula-hoops...

                                                          ...and leprechauns

                                            and a bartender on every float.

                                        Green was the color of the day. These guys had wet-paint hands
                        and were trying to put handprints on various parts of the women in the crowd.

                                               Love her smile, even her bike was green.

 

It was hot, but the bands played on

You're going to do what???

The RaftUp this month asks these questions:

How did you get the idea to go cruising? Was it you, your partner, a friend that put the idea in your head? How long was it between when you first decided to go -- buying the boat -- actually setting sail? When you first starting telling friends and family that you were going to do this, how did they respond? Has it affected relationships on land? What was the hardest part of the transition from land to sea (this can be mental or physical)? Was it easier or harder to get going than you thought it would be? How long have you been out? Do you keep a place on land (house, storage...)? Why? Is your boat now your home or do you dream of having a normal land-life again?

Endless horizons, endless options.

 

The first time I set foot on a sailboat was the day we moved aboard, 10 years ago. I know it sounds like it was a lark of sorts, but anyone who has ever met Steve knows  he doesn't have much 'lark' in his genetic makeup. There was actually a lot of thought and planning involved. At the same time, we'd already done 12 moves in 20 years and we knew very well that nothing was forever. We could choose to move on at any time.

I grew up in North Dakota (AKA: Almost Canada). It's not a region known for water sports. What water we had was generally frozen, we ice skated and played ice hockey. Sailing was as foreign and exotic as fresh pineapple and coconuts. I first saw a real sailboat in Duluth MN when I was 18. It looked so easy and romantic. 
Fast forward 20 or so years. The girls are both in college. We're in Albuquerque NM with a pending Air Force assignment to Tampa FL. We start looking at houses there.  We have MAJOR sticker shock at the housing prices there. This is 2003 when even a tiny ranch house there was selling for $500K. I joke about just buying a boat and living on it. We laugh. We look at more houses.  Just for the heck of it, we check out some boat listings online.  Boats are much more affordable. They look so spacious. The water is so pretty. I'm sold.

Steve does weeks of homework and research and sees dozens of boats with the broker. We know nothing of brands or reputation. We buy a 1977 Hallberg-Rassy 41'. It doesn't have anything we were looking for: air conditioning for living aboard in Florida, refrigeration ( it had an ice box), electronics. But she's a SOLID, blue water cruiser. So, we move aboard and then take sailing lessons. I am the Sargent Schultz of sailing, I know nothing.

We start the first of many Project lists. The first biggie: new engine mounts. The engine is literally falling into the bilge. We replace the wiring, the plumbing, add holding tanks, recaulk the teak deck, re rig, remove davits and add a stern rail, add all the electronics and in mast wiring. It was all learning on the job. Steve did ALL the work himself, he knows our boat inside and out and upside down. This was about a 6 year project. We were both still working full time. After Steve retired, he took a year to add a new engine and water maker and refrigeration compressors and 100 other things that have to be taken care of before we leave to go cruising.

We've been out cruising full time for almost 4 years now. The transition from land to sea wasn't very hard for us. We're used to having to find our way around new cities/countries every couple of years, finding the good local restaurants, the grocery stores, the shortcuts. We tend to make friends easily. We accept local customs and don't want everything to be the same way it was 'at home'. The hardest part for us as family with grown children is not having that Family Home for everyone to meet at for holidays and vacations. It's much harder to make advance plans and to accommodate the girls work schedules. The work of day to day life on the boat is also much harder than I ever expected. Going to get groceries can be an all day chore. Ditto for laundry. And sometimes the logistics of planning food for a group for a few days puts me in a panic.

We accumulated a lot of art works and interesting furniture pieces from our travels and we do have a 10 x 10 storage unit in Albuquerque. It's been 10 years since I've seen most of what we have in there. So I'd have to caution anyone to think reaaalllyyyy hard about what you want to put into storage. We've probably spent $8000 in 10 years on that storage unit.

Our boat is our home. We plan to be there for many more years, but I do have to admit that after more than 25 years of continuous moving, I'm thinking more and more about having a permanent home. I'd like to paint a wall a color that I like, and plant a new bonsai tree or two.
 

Dingy??

        We live on a boat, some folks who read this do, or have too. Ours isn’t a big boat by many cruiser’s standards but too big to take to the dock all the time and stay within our budget. So we also have a small boat, a “dingy”, to get to-from shore with stuff and us of course. You know laundry, groceries, rum, boat parts, walks and all those kind of things. And there are “dingy” docks, some owned by cities, some marinas, restaurants etc.

    Generally cruisers spend enough $$$ locally that it makes good sense to have a “dingy” dock. Generally at busy “dingy” docks, folks use long painters so everyone can maneuver in and out regardless if the “dingy” is double/triple parked. Generally if you have a big boat you either hire/pay for a slip or get a “dingy” to get to and from shore. And there is my rub.




Dingy to the left (blue/graythird row)
is our 8 1/2 footer for comparison
We DO have a Tiller extension though!

    At what size is it no longer a “dingy”? Perspective perhaps…if the mother-ship is 36 feet a big “dingy” might be a six or eight footer. But if the mother-ship is say 100 feet will a 12 footer suffice?  It doesn’t seem to.

    We’re in the USVI’s right now and even for this 24+ year US Air Force veteran who’ has witnessed a few big “dingy” contests, it’s a bit overwhelming. I mean damn, some of these really qualify as mother-ships. Every day there are a ½ dozen plus rigid and RIB boats with outboards exceeding 40 horsepower, several in the 14-18 foot, 100-140 hp range, electric start, integral navigation lights and GPS/chart plotters. Is that a “dingy”?  This more rigid platform, convenience, and additional size could be an offset for the effects of age and lost dexterity allowing people to do things they love much later in life. (Pfizer analogy SO tempting here) Mostly though it seems they are young crews, owners, and guests of very large and quite expensive yachts.  So it’s probably big and fully outfitted just because it can be.

     While there are rarely hard rules there are conventions, like the long painter I talked about. It’s just being considerate of others so most people do it. But not everyone, so sometimes there actually are rules. Annapolis for example has a rule for their “dingy” dock limiting size to (hope I remember this correctly) 14 feet. Oh that’s right, there are rules here too. Limit is 12 feet, no locking, and no overnight. Hmm.

    Options: the “dingy” dock could get bigger; “dingys” could get smaller; or maybe those non-“dingy” i.e. pseudo mother-ships could hire slips. Meanwhile our painter keeps getting longer and the off-loading more challenging as we climb over and through the “dingy” mass/mess.  Good news—Lynn has only gone in once. Not here.