Success is boring. We got up in Coinjock, NC, got ready to travel while eating breakfast and making coffee, started the engines, got underway, drove the boat for about 9 hours, and we parked at a marina in Hampton, VA, for a good night's sleep before we do it all again tomorrow. It may be boring, but thinking that we may realize a goal that just a few days ago seemed nearly impossible has those silly grins pasted on our faces again.
The day wasn't as completely boring as that, but pretty close. There's some excitement simply because there are now just two of us doing what 4 used to do. Granted, we're not standing 4-on/4-off watches around the clock, but we're both driving the boat off and on during a long day. Besides driving, we went through 3 bridges today that had to be moved out of our way, passed through one lock that required us both to handle lines, and navigated through the busy Norfolk area.
There have been minor victories along the way. Chuck suggested that I drive the boat away from the dock today. He told me exactly what to do, what the boat would do, and what I could do if there were any surprises. It went exactly as he described, and I pulled the boat away from the dock for the first time. He also handed me the wheel while we had to wait for bridge openings to just practice driving. I turned the boat in a full a circle while holding the same spot in the canal using only the shift levers. At another bridge, I maneuvered the boat in line behind 4 others and held that position until the bridge opened.
I still monitor the engine room, checking temperatures and pressures every 2 hours at a minimum. On the second or third check of the day, I noticed that the port transmission was running a few degrees hotter than it had been, and the fluid pressure was slightly lower and fluctuating a bit. I told Chuck that we needed to shut the port engine down so that I could check the transmission fluid level and add as needed. Chuck agreed, we shut down the engine, and I serviced it. After restarting the engine and running at speed for a short time, it was clear that the transmission was running cooler and the pressure was stabilized and consistent with what it had been.
If I hadn't learned that problems on a boat don't just go away or fix themselves and that action has to be taken, the transmission symptoms might have been magnified into a trip-ending disaster.
We're now in a slip at the Salt Ponds Marina in Hampton, directly off of the bay, roughly 5 miles north of the Hampton Bay Bridge Tunnel, 80 NM from our destination. If we get an early start tomorrow and have favorable weather throughout the day, we should be in Solomons tomorrow before dark.
Looking back at all we've done to get this far, it's incredible to think that we've almost done it, but I won't stew in that just yet. There's a ways to go, and still lots to do to complete the journey.
I almost dozed off staring at the screen. I'm going to post this and go to bed. Goodnight!
Greg.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Third leg interrupted
We had a minor setback yesterday due to weather. Who'd have thought that after 3 full days on the open ocean with incredible weather that we'd be beaten up so badly on the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) that we'd cry "Uncle!"? As I already reported, the offshore passage wasn't perfect. The last several hours were not fun, but we survived those and incorrectly assumed we'd overcome the worst conditions we'd see during the trip and the final legs would be smooth sailing. We were wrong.
It wasn't just that the weather was so bad, but it was a combination of things. Operating the boat in high winds, waves that are too much for the autopilot and require someone to actually steer the boat, occasional rain showers, and the thought that our next stop was an anchorage with high winds that might require constant monitoring and possibly even resetting the boat's anchor in the middle of the night add up to high stress and a low reading on the fun meter.
We'd been fighting a ferocious 15 - 20 knot crosswind with 3- 5 foot waves for 3 to 4 hours, and the next leg would point the bow directly into that mess, and we just couldn't do it anymore. When we honestly appraised what we'd been through and our readiness to continue, we bailed and booked a spot at the first marina available where the Pungo River makes a 90-degree right turn at Belhaven, NC.
The stop was ~6 hours earlier than planned, so our schedule was significantly impacted, AND Scott's plans to leave the boat had to be adjusted. We were disappointed. It wasn't as bad as breaking down and staring at a major repair for 2 days, wondering if it would ever happen, but it was disappointing.
When we plan to stop at a marine, we research the possibilities with a cruising guide for the area, I call the one we choose on the phone to let them know that we're coming and to verify that they have a spot for us, and if they do, the marina usually gives us an idea of where they'll park us. They then give me a radio frequency on which to contact them when we're approaching the marina so that they're ready for us with line handlers and to give us any final instructions.
For this particular stop, the marina told me that they had a spot to park us along a pier that we could angle into against the wind with a long approach. It sounded perfect. Even though Chuck has proven to be a great boat handler, he appreciates it if we can avoid difficult or drastically new docking challenges.
When we got close to the marina, I called them on the radio, and the plan changed completely. Not only were they giving Chuck a new docking challenge, they were asking him to do something that most people would avoid at all costs. They asked us to motor well inside the marina area, turn the boat stern-to the pier, and then back it into a narrow slip. Most marinas would be protected from the wind and the challenge of backing inta slip would not be that significant, but we were still experiencing a 20+ knot wind from the stern. Crazy!
With the slip we were supposed to back into off the bow, Chuck saw the pier and parking spot with the long approach that the marina had originally described and pointed, yelling from the fly bridge, "Over there!" but the marina staff waiting to handle our lines shook their heads and answered back on the radio, "No, Captain, we need you to back into this slip," gesturing like airline handlers at the tiny slip they were standing at. Unhappy but resigned to accept his fate, Chuck set up to back into the assigned slip, and he handled it beautifully. No, the landing wasn't perfect, but nothing or nobody was hurt in the process, and it ended successfully.
We spent an uneventful night in Belhaven, a claim I suspect is made quite often, and we all woke up more refreshed than I think we've been throughout the whole trip. The disappointment of the previous day was forgotten, spirits were high, and we were anxious to get the modified 4th leg of the journey started.
For those of you who just read this blog because you're fans of Scott, you can stop reading. We left him in Belhaven this morning, making it a much better place than we found it. He was an incredible asset throughout the planning, preparation, and initial phases of getting this adventure off the pier at our starting point, and he will be sorely missed. In the nation of Branwen, he is a national treasure. I look forward to having him aboard in the future to show him how the boat has improved with his sage advice.
Chuck and I left by ourselves on the fourth leg of the journey, waving to Scott who walked down the pier beside us as we left. (Yes, that's about how fast a trawler moves.) We planned to end the day at Coinjock, NC but were concerned long-term about completing the journey with just the two of us and near-term about the weather crossing Albermarle sound. It's a large, shallow body of water that can get whipped into a frenzy with just a little bit of wind, and we were expecting more than a little bit.
Well, we made it safely to Coinjock. The day was mostly uneventful. Yes, there was weather and waves and a few rolls bigger than we'd have liked along the way, but the rolls didn't scramble the boat's interior as badly as those experienced before Belhaven, partly because we've improved as a crew and had the boat in better shape, due largely to Scott's suggestions.
While there's too much food on board that will have to be eaten eventually, we're eating out tonight, because cooking and cleaning up is a lot to do after a full day on the water.
Greg.
It wasn't just that the weather was so bad, but it was a combination of things. Operating the boat in high winds, waves that are too much for the autopilot and require someone to actually steer the boat, occasional rain showers, and the thought that our next stop was an anchorage with high winds that might require constant monitoring and possibly even resetting the boat's anchor in the middle of the night add up to high stress and a low reading on the fun meter.
We'd been fighting a ferocious 15 - 20 knot crosswind with 3- 5 foot waves for 3 to 4 hours, and the next leg would point the bow directly into that mess, and we just couldn't do it anymore. When we honestly appraised what we'd been through and our readiness to continue, we bailed and booked a spot at the first marina available where the Pungo River makes a 90-degree right turn at Belhaven, NC.
The stop was ~6 hours earlier than planned, so our schedule was significantly impacted, AND Scott's plans to leave the boat had to be adjusted. We were disappointed. It wasn't as bad as breaking down and staring at a major repair for 2 days, wondering if it would ever happen, but it was disappointing.
When we plan to stop at a marine, we research the possibilities with a cruising guide for the area, I call the one we choose on the phone to let them know that we're coming and to verify that they have a spot for us, and if they do, the marina usually gives us an idea of where they'll park us. They then give me a radio frequency on which to contact them when we're approaching the marina so that they're ready for us with line handlers and to give us any final instructions.
For this particular stop, the marina told me that they had a spot to park us along a pier that we could angle into against the wind with a long approach. It sounded perfect. Even though Chuck has proven to be a great boat handler, he appreciates it if we can avoid difficult or drastically new docking challenges.
When we got close to the marina, I called them on the radio, and the plan changed completely. Not only were they giving Chuck a new docking challenge, they were asking him to do something that most people would avoid at all costs. They asked us to motor well inside the marina area, turn the boat stern-to the pier, and then back it into a narrow slip. Most marinas would be protected from the wind and the challenge of backing inta slip would not be that significant, but we were still experiencing a 20+ knot wind from the stern. Crazy!
With the slip we were supposed to back into off the bow, Chuck saw the pier and parking spot with the long approach that the marina had originally described and pointed, yelling from the fly bridge, "Over there!" but the marina staff waiting to handle our lines shook their heads and answered back on the radio, "No, Captain, we need you to back into this slip," gesturing like airline handlers at the tiny slip they were standing at. Unhappy but resigned to accept his fate, Chuck set up to back into the assigned slip, and he handled it beautifully. No, the landing wasn't perfect, but nothing or nobody was hurt in the process, and it ended successfully.
We spent an uneventful night in Belhaven, a claim I suspect is made quite often, and we all woke up more refreshed than I think we've been throughout the whole trip. The disappointment of the previous day was forgotten, spirits were high, and we were anxious to get the modified 4th leg of the journey started.
For those of you who just read this blog because you're fans of Scott, you can stop reading. We left him in Belhaven this morning, making it a much better place than we found it. He was an incredible asset throughout the planning, preparation, and initial phases of getting this adventure off the pier at our starting point, and he will be sorely missed. In the nation of Branwen, he is a national treasure. I look forward to having him aboard in the future to show him how the boat has improved with his sage advice.
Chuck and I left by ourselves on the fourth leg of the journey, waving to Scott who walked down the pier beside us as we left. (Yes, that's about how fast a trawler moves.) We planned to end the day at Coinjock, NC but were concerned long-term about completing the journey with just the two of us and near-term about the weather crossing Albermarle sound. It's a large, shallow body of water that can get whipped into a frenzy with just a little bit of wind, and we were expecting more than a little bit.
Well, we made it safely to Coinjock. The day was mostly uneventful. Yes, there was weather and waves and a few rolls bigger than we'd have liked along the way, but the rolls didn't scramble the boat's interior as badly as those experienced before Belhaven, partly because we've improved as a crew and had the boat in better shape, due largely to Scott's suggestions.
While there's too much food on board that will have to be eaten eventually, we're eating out tonight, because cooking and cleaning up is a lot to do after a full day on the water.
Greg.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Starting the third leg
The second leg - Indiantown, FL to Beaufort, NC - separated the men from the boys and there's much to tell of that separation, but so that I don't get too far behind I'll start with where we are now. I also have to apologize for losing the ability to post pictures. I have a single point of failure in that process, and I haven't figured out how to overcome it. I'll keep working it and will post pictures when I can.
The last day of the 3-day offshore journey was the worst and the best. We were already tired and just plain weary of the constant noise, motion, and lack of sleep, and we were ready for a break. BUT THEN, to make it the worst part of the trip so far, the weather kicked up and tossed us around pretty good for a full 12 hours. We all got even more tired of picking up things and moving the furniture out of the way so we could simply get from point A to point B. Later, Todd reported that he found the insulated coffee urn on its side, and he had to mop up that mess.
Before we'd realized that the autopilot was unable to keep up with the following seas coming from at least 2 different directions, maybe 3, we'd taken some pretty good rolls. Todd and I were sitting on the fly bridge, about 16 feet off the water, moving pretty good and probably enjoying the ride more that we should have been.
I happened to look back on a particularly violent roll (probably thinking, "Yippee!") and noticed that the dinghy was sliding back and forth on its cradle. "That's not supposed to happen," I said to myself. Looking closer, I saw that the bow line holding the dinghy to the cradle had parted which allowed the dinghy to move from side to side. The travel was being limited by the bridle that was attached to the davit or crane, but those lines aren't that great, and the davit is not designed to take that kind of stress.
I secured the dinghy bow to a stanchion so that it couldn't slide back and forth. At about that time, Chuck noted that the autopilot was just not handling the seas well, and he took over over on the wheel. We all took turns steering - except Todd for some reason - for roughly an hour at a time. At about two hours out from Beaufort, we gave control back to the autopilot, and it was doing okay with it.
As we drove into Beaufort after 3 days at sea and fighting the confused, stormy seas of the final 12 hours, we were disappointed that there wasn't a victory parade marking our arrival, but we had our own celebration planned. After that, we wanted to get a decent stretch of real sleep without the concerns of all that could go wrong while 30 to 50 miles offshore.
The marina assigned us a slip that presented Chuck with many new challenges, the most significant was that he'd never pulled the boat into a slip before. All of the marina's outward piers or face piers had huge private yachts on them, so the marina chose a slip for us that was inside, just on the other side of one of the large yachts, that we couldn't see until we we'd gone past the large yacht, turned the boat around and were pointed at the slip from the channel outside the marina. There was some wind blowing us towards the shore, but not as much as we'd been fighting out on the ocean.
Chuck makes driving the boat look so easy. Nice and slow, Chuck had the boat practically stopped and then inched ever so slightly in the needed direction. Watching him, my lessons have been: keep it slow, correct as needed immediately, stop/back up as needed to try again. Chuck never had to use the back up and try again option that I remember. He'll say that he made many mistakes each time, but he corrects for them so quickly that those of us observing the evolution don't see them. Yes, we may be moving a little slower than a vessel being driven by a more confident and experienced helmsman, but we haven't broken anything or embarrassed ourselves maneuvering the boat in close quarters. I'm sure I'll do that later.
The marina staff came down to meet us to handle lines, get shore power hooked up, and pass the fuel hose. We got safely in the slip and had lines over in the hands of the marina staff and Chuck asked from the fly bridge, "Have you got it?" One of the marina staff quickly shot back, "NO," with a "are you kidding?" tone in his voice to let Chuck know that they weren't going to get the boat where it needed to be by pulling it. Why not? Too big? Ha! Instead, they gave a few commands or requests to bump the engines forward so that the boat could be tied in the slip at the appropriate place, and then they said the engines could be shutdown.
We'd never fueled the boat before, so that was a learning experience. Heck, most everything I do with the boat is a learning experience, and that's uncomfortable when there's so much at stake, but that's part of the "fun" of boating.
Anyway, back to the fueling. Scott was there to help me, and he pointed out that we should have the oil absorbing 'rags' handy to catch and mop up any spills. There is a scupper beneath the fuel ports that we plugged with one of the rags. I told the man at the pump how much fuel I thought I'd take, and he planned to warn me about 20 gallons before getting there so that we could be watching for the end and catch any overflow. The first tank took much less fuel than I'd expected, so Scott was surprised by a quick burp of the tank that pushed out a tiny bit of fuel as the handle shut off. Since we were ready for it, the fuel was easily cleaned up.
Even though we knew my fuel estimates we way off, we were similarly suprised when the other tank became full and burped out a bit more fuel. Again, the cleanup was easy. I'll calculate actual the fuel usage later and let you know, but I'm already very happy that the average fuel flow rate throughout the trip was much less than expected.
I feel all of the women other than my wife nodding off, so I'll move on.
While there was no parade, Danielle was waiting to pick up Todd, and I'm sure that she was parade enough for him. He was packed and ready to go when we pulled in, but he stuck around to help us with chores until he felt he'd done all he could and we were ready to clean up for dinner.
I'm very glad that he was able to share the offshore portion of this adventure with me, and I think he had a good time even though he's disappointed that we didn't see any sharks or a whale of any kind. He saw lots of dolphins and flying fish - more than he wanted - but not those other items on his list. Oh well, he'll have reason to return and do it again.
The three remaining crewman cleaned up, walked around town until we found a place we wanted to eat, and shared a victory meal and adult beverages. While there were chores to accomplish, the intentions to get them done before going to bed were overtaken by the strain of the last few days, and we all agreed to go to bed and attack them in the morning.
Being safe in Beaufort, getting Todd on his way home as planned, sharing a meal with Chuck and Scott, and retiring for a good night's sleep combined to make the day the best we've had so far. The part of the day that earned it its worst rating doesn't seem so bad anymore and will be soon forgotten - except in the stories that we'll tell about it that will get scarier and longer and . . . well, you know how that goes.
Now we've left Beaufort and are heading for the Alligator River. There's a large body of water called Albemarle Sound that we won't be able to cross before nightfall, so we'll spend the night on the southern side of the Sound in Alligator River and then start across the Sound fresh in the morning.
More to come.
Greg
The last day of the 3-day offshore journey was the worst and the best. We were already tired and just plain weary of the constant noise, motion, and lack of sleep, and we were ready for a break. BUT THEN, to make it the worst part of the trip so far, the weather kicked up and tossed us around pretty good for a full 12 hours. We all got even more tired of picking up things and moving the furniture out of the way so we could simply get from point A to point B. Later, Todd reported that he found the insulated coffee urn on its side, and he had to mop up that mess.
Before we'd realized that the autopilot was unable to keep up with the following seas coming from at least 2 different directions, maybe 3, we'd taken some pretty good rolls. Todd and I were sitting on the fly bridge, about 16 feet off the water, moving pretty good and probably enjoying the ride more that we should have been.
I happened to look back on a particularly violent roll (probably thinking, "Yippee!") and noticed that the dinghy was sliding back and forth on its cradle. "That's not supposed to happen," I said to myself. Looking closer, I saw that the bow line holding the dinghy to the cradle had parted which allowed the dinghy to move from side to side. The travel was being limited by the bridle that was attached to the davit or crane, but those lines aren't that great, and the davit is not designed to take that kind of stress.
I secured the dinghy bow to a stanchion so that it couldn't slide back and forth. At about that time, Chuck noted that the autopilot was just not handling the seas well, and he took over over on the wheel. We all took turns steering - except Todd for some reason - for roughly an hour at a time. At about two hours out from Beaufort, we gave control back to the autopilot, and it was doing okay with it.
As we drove into Beaufort after 3 days at sea and fighting the confused, stormy seas of the final 12 hours, we were disappointed that there wasn't a victory parade marking our arrival, but we had our own celebration planned. After that, we wanted to get a decent stretch of real sleep without the concerns of all that could go wrong while 30 to 50 miles offshore.
The marina assigned us a slip that presented Chuck with many new challenges, the most significant was that he'd never pulled the boat into a slip before. All of the marina's outward piers or face piers had huge private yachts on them, so the marina chose a slip for us that was inside, just on the other side of one of the large yachts, that we couldn't see until we we'd gone past the large yacht, turned the boat around and were pointed at the slip from the channel outside the marina. There was some wind blowing us towards the shore, but not as much as we'd been fighting out on the ocean.
Chuck makes driving the boat look so easy. Nice and slow, Chuck had the boat practically stopped and then inched ever so slightly in the needed direction. Watching him, my lessons have been: keep it slow, correct as needed immediately, stop/back up as needed to try again. Chuck never had to use the back up and try again option that I remember. He'll say that he made many mistakes each time, but he corrects for them so quickly that those of us observing the evolution don't see them. Yes, we may be moving a little slower than a vessel being driven by a more confident and experienced helmsman, but we haven't broken anything or embarrassed ourselves maneuvering the boat in close quarters. I'm sure I'll do that later.
The marina staff came down to meet us to handle lines, get shore power hooked up, and pass the fuel hose. We got safely in the slip and had lines over in the hands of the marina staff and Chuck asked from the fly bridge, "Have you got it?" One of the marina staff quickly shot back, "NO," with a "are you kidding?" tone in his voice to let Chuck know that they weren't going to get the boat where it needed to be by pulling it. Why not? Too big? Ha! Instead, they gave a few commands or requests to bump the engines forward so that the boat could be tied in the slip at the appropriate place, and then they said the engines could be shutdown.
We'd never fueled the boat before, so that was a learning experience. Heck, most everything I do with the boat is a learning experience, and that's uncomfortable when there's so much at stake, but that's part of the "fun" of boating.
Anyway, back to the fueling. Scott was there to help me, and he pointed out that we should have the oil absorbing 'rags' handy to catch and mop up any spills. There is a scupper beneath the fuel ports that we plugged with one of the rags. I told the man at the pump how much fuel I thought I'd take, and he planned to warn me about 20 gallons before getting there so that we could be watching for the end and catch any overflow. The first tank took much less fuel than I'd expected, so Scott was surprised by a quick burp of the tank that pushed out a tiny bit of fuel as the handle shut off. Since we were ready for it, the fuel was easily cleaned up.
Even though we knew my fuel estimates we way off, we were similarly suprised when the other tank became full and burped out a bit more fuel. Again, the cleanup was easy. I'll calculate actual the fuel usage later and let you know, but I'm already very happy that the average fuel flow rate throughout the trip was much less than expected.
I feel all of the women other than my wife nodding off, so I'll move on.
While there was no parade, Danielle was waiting to pick up Todd, and I'm sure that she was parade enough for him. He was packed and ready to go when we pulled in, but he stuck around to help us with chores until he felt he'd done all he could and we were ready to clean up for dinner.
I'm very glad that he was able to share the offshore portion of this adventure with me, and I think he had a good time even though he's disappointed that we didn't see any sharks or a whale of any kind. He saw lots of dolphins and flying fish - more than he wanted - but not those other items on his list. Oh well, he'll have reason to return and do it again.
The three remaining crewman cleaned up, walked around town until we found a place we wanted to eat, and shared a victory meal and adult beverages. While there were chores to accomplish, the intentions to get them done before going to bed were overtaken by the strain of the last few days, and we all agreed to go to bed and attack them in the morning.
Being safe in Beaufort, getting Todd on his way home as planned, sharing a meal with Chuck and Scott, and retiring for a good night's sleep combined to make the day the best we've had so far. The part of the day that earned it its worst rating doesn't seem so bad anymore and will be soon forgotten - except in the stories that we'll tell about it that will get scarier and longer and . . . well, you know how that goes.
Now we've left Beaufort and are heading for the Alligator River. There's a large body of water called Albemarle Sound that we won't be able to cross before nightfall, so we'll spend the night on the southern side of the Sound in Alligator River and then start across the Sound fresh in the morning.
More to come.
Greg
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Back on the grid!
We lost cell service shortly after going offshore. Todd said that he was still texting until midnight, but the success rate became less and less until it just drpoped off completely around 12 miles offshore.
We're aware of the stress that not knowing causes our friends and loved ones after being out of the constant contact mode that we're used to these days, so we're doing our best to mneuver close enough to a well-popuated shoreline to get cell coverage. It's 0930 Thursday morning, and even though we've hit our mark at the time planned, we apparently overestimated the cell coverage in this area. We're off Hilton Head about 15 miles without coverage, but we've turned to angle closer to the coast while continuing homeward until we can do a data dump and let everyone know that we're doing great.
After noon today will mark 2 days underway, 3 quarters of that out of contact, and everything - absolutely EVERYTHING - is going great. The crew has settled into the 4-on/4-off watch rotation, and the boat is performing as we knew she could, even though the owner is still learning how she works.
With a 4-on/4-off schedule, everybody has stood several watches by now. All of us are getting sleep when we can, but we'll all be tired when this is done. Each person on the crew has found their niche, talent, or area of interest and is focused on that area, keeping everyone else informed of what's going on. For example, I try to do most of the engine room checks, because I've spent the most time down there and will know before anyone else when something's not right. While I may take short naps throughout the day, I'm keyed to go down to the engine room every two hours. I note what I find each time I check so that anyone can see what's been going on in my area, and everyone else has been down to the engine room with me, so they know generally what to look for, where to find it, and how to record it. Everyone else is doing simalarly but focused on their "thing."
We're planning to pull into Beaufort, NC, Friday afternoon. Todd's girfriend, Danielle, will meet us there. Todd will definitely leave with Danielle at that time, but I'm not sure what Scott's plans are. He may elect to leave then or continue on with Chuck and me until a later stopping point. That will all be worked out with family before we get to Beaufort.
Now that our AIS is working and we've been in the system for a few days, you can use an application like Boat Watch or Ship Finder to locate us. I don't know anything about them, so I'm not recommending either one, but try them out yourself. Branwen's call sign is WDH9878.
We've been connected for a few hours, but I've had my own personal connectivity issues. Sorry there aren't photos, but I'm anxious to get this sent and will add pictures later when I have my personal problems resolved.
Greg.
We're aware of the stress that not knowing causes our friends and loved ones after being out of the constant contact mode that we're used to these days, so we're doing our best to mneuver close enough to a well-popuated shoreline to get cell coverage. It's 0930 Thursday morning, and even though we've hit our mark at the time planned, we apparently overestimated the cell coverage in this area. We're off Hilton Head about 15 miles without coverage, but we've turned to angle closer to the coast while continuing homeward until we can do a data dump and let everyone know that we're doing great.
After noon today will mark 2 days underway, 3 quarters of that out of contact, and everything - absolutely EVERYTHING - is going great. The crew has settled into the 4-on/4-off watch rotation, and the boat is performing as we knew she could, even though the owner is still learning how she works.
With a 4-on/4-off schedule, everybody has stood several watches by now. All of us are getting sleep when we can, but we'll all be tired when this is done. Each person on the crew has found their niche, talent, or area of interest and is focused on that area, keeping everyone else informed of what's going on. For example, I try to do most of the engine room checks, because I've spent the most time down there and will know before anyone else when something's not right. While I may take short naps throughout the day, I'm keyed to go down to the engine room every two hours. I note what I find each time I check so that anyone can see what's been going on in my area, and everyone else has been down to the engine room with me, so they know generally what to look for, where to find it, and how to record it. Everyone else is doing simalarly but focused on their "thing."
We're planning to pull into Beaufort, NC, Friday afternoon. Todd's girfriend, Danielle, will meet us there. Todd will definitely leave with Danielle at that time, but I'm not sure what Scott's plans are. He may elect to leave then or continue on with Chuck and me until a later stopping point. That will all be worked out with family before we get to Beaufort.
Now that our AIS is working and we've been in the system for a few days, you can use an application like Boat Watch or Ship Finder to locate us. I don't know anything about them, so I'm not recommending either one, but try them out yourself. Branwen's call sign is WDH9878.
We've been connected for a few hours, but I've had my own personal connectivity issues. Sorry there aren't photos, but I'm anxious to get this sent and will add pictures later when I have my personal problems resolved.
Greg.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
We're moving again!
What a crazy day, but we're underway and we've already made great progress!
I don't think any of us slept that well. Well, Todd didn't roll out of bed until after 8:00, but that's okay. One of us has to be well rested for the long trip ahead, and it's good that it's the one with the young eyes.
The yard kept to the schedule they promised. The part was delivered around 8:30 and was in Bob, the mechanic's, hands. Scott saw him around that time and Bob told him that he just had to go to the restroom and that he'd by right down to install it. Bob showed up an hour later. That's frustrating, but perfectly understandable. I'm sure there was a lot more to do in that hour than just go to the bathroom. He did show up well prepared with the right parts and tools, and he set right to work.
Bleeding the air from the lines after the part was installed was a long process. The part was installed by 11:00, but the servicing and bleeding wasn't completed until after 12:30. We were golden! Sure we were on our way, the shore power and water were removed, the engines were started, and were warming them up when Chuck noted that none of the electronics were on. I was more frazzled than I realized by that point, but as I checked every switch, rotary dial, and circuit breaker, I couldn't find any set differently than they'd been set before when everything worked as it was supposed to.
In complete desperation, I called the yard service manager and asked him to come help us restore DC power to the boat. He graciously agreed and came right down in his golf cart and set to work. After 15 minutes of poking his voltmeter around the engine room, he agreed that there was no ship's DC power available. As he was crawling across the top of the battery banks, something popped when he touch one of the battery cables, and the lights came on. Ah, a loose battery cable. We tightened that down and DC power was restored. I thanked him - what service! - told him to please bill me, but he said there'd no charge - what service, and what a great price!
I told Chuck to fire up the engines again while I cleaned up the engine room and we'd be ready to go as soon as he was ready. As I popped my head out of the engine hatch in the cockpit, Scott suggested I handle the stern line, so I pulled it in and pushed us off. We were underway at 13:45.
We even got a break when we were roughly a half mile from the last lock at 3:30 just as the door was closing, and I asked the lock keeper to wait for us. Without committing one way or the other, he told us that if we didn't make it, we'd have to wait until 4:30. We came around the corner and saw the doors closing, and I told him that we were close and could make it if he was willing. The keeper didn't say anything, and there was a significant pause while he thought about it, but the lock doors stopped closing and then began opening. That was a lucky break, and we needed one.
Now we've been steaming for almost exactly 5 hours, and we're making great time, we haven't broken anything or run aground. We'd been following the boat that was in the lock before we got there, and they cut the corner on the wrong side of a red mark and ended up aground right in front of us. They powered themselves off, but I believe they retired to a port of opportunity to check out their condition.
As we turned the corner at Stuart, FL and headed north, we were greeted by a pod of dolphins that played in our bow wave a bit. Instead of grabbing my camera to get pictures, I ran out on the bowsprit empty handed to just stare at them. I agree it was selfish on my part, but I'll own it and not apologize for it. I'll do better next time. The water in that area was the beautiful turquoise blue, very close to the color of the Branwen shirts that Mary made for us.
Scott has done so much to get us ready for this trip. I haven't begun to give him the credit he deserves for his vast knowledge and thorough mind, but I'll add many of those details later. I wanted to point out that one of the most visible things he's done is get our US flag flying proudly from Branwen's cockpit while we're underway. The crew, the boat, and having the US flag waving to all as they pass us makes me proud, and the pride in all we've accomplished in such a short time settles the butterflies in my stomach a bit when I think about taking this boat with this crew offshore.
I don't know how much longer we'll have connectivity. We hope to be leaving Fort Pierce for the big ocean sometime after dark tonight. Chuck has adjusted our planned path so that we stay within 20 to 50 miles from shore, so maybe we'll get lucky and have occasional cell coverage, but I doubt it. We'll check in when we can, but remember that we'll all be fine and will be checking in with you soon.
Greg.
I don't think any of us slept that well. Well, Todd didn't roll out of bed until after 8:00, but that's okay. One of us has to be well rested for the long trip ahead, and it's good that it's the one with the young eyes.
The yard kept to the schedule they promised. The part was delivered around 8:30 and was in Bob, the mechanic's, hands. Scott saw him around that time and Bob told him that he just had to go to the restroom and that he'd by right down to install it. Bob showed up an hour later. That's frustrating, but perfectly understandable. I'm sure there was a lot more to do in that hour than just go to the bathroom. He did show up well prepared with the right parts and tools, and he set right to work.
Bleeding the air from the lines after the part was installed was a long process. The part was installed by 11:00, but the servicing and bleeding wasn't completed until after 12:30. We were golden! Sure we were on our way, the shore power and water were removed, the engines were started, and were warming them up when Chuck noted that none of the electronics were on. I was more frazzled than I realized by that point, but as I checked every switch, rotary dial, and circuit breaker, I couldn't find any set differently than they'd been set before when everything worked as it was supposed to.
In complete desperation, I called the yard service manager and asked him to come help us restore DC power to the boat. He graciously agreed and came right down in his golf cart and set to work. After 15 minutes of poking his voltmeter around the engine room, he agreed that there was no ship's DC power available. As he was crawling across the top of the battery banks, something popped when he touch one of the battery cables, and the lights came on. Ah, a loose battery cable. We tightened that down and DC power was restored. I thanked him - what service! - told him to please bill me, but he said there'd no charge - what service, and what a great price!
I told Chuck to fire up the engines again while I cleaned up the engine room and we'd be ready to go as soon as he was ready. As I popped my head out of the engine hatch in the cockpit, Scott suggested I handle the stern line, so I pulled it in and pushed us off. We were underway at 13:45.
We even got a break when we were roughly a half mile from the last lock at 3:30 just as the door was closing, and I asked the lock keeper to wait for us. Without committing one way or the other, he told us that if we didn't make it, we'd have to wait until 4:30. We came around the corner and saw the doors closing, and I told him that we were close and could make it if he was willing. The keeper didn't say anything, and there was a significant pause while he thought about it, but the lock doors stopped closing and then began opening. That was a lucky break, and we needed one.
Now we've been steaming for almost exactly 5 hours, and we're making great time, we haven't broken anything or run aground. We'd been following the boat that was in the lock before we got there, and they cut the corner on the wrong side of a red mark and ended up aground right in front of us. They powered themselves off, but I believe they retired to a port of opportunity to check out their condition.
As we turned the corner at Stuart, FL and headed north, we were greeted by a pod of dolphins that played in our bow wave a bit. Instead of grabbing my camera to get pictures, I ran out on the bowsprit empty handed to just stare at them. I agree it was selfish on my part, but I'll own it and not apologize for it. I'll do better next time. The water in that area was the beautiful turquoise blue, very close to the color of the Branwen shirts that Mary made for us.
Scott has done so much to get us ready for this trip. I haven't begun to give him the credit he deserves for his vast knowledge and thorough mind, but I'll add many of those details later. I wanted to point out that one of the most visible things he's done is get our US flag flying proudly from Branwen's cockpit while we're underway. The crew, the boat, and having the US flag waving to all as they pass us makes me proud, and the pride in all we've accomplished in such a short time settles the butterflies in my stomach a bit when I think about taking this boat with this crew offshore.
I don't know how much longer we'll have connectivity. We hope to be leaving Fort Pierce for the big ocean sometime after dark tonight. Chuck has adjusted our planned path so that we stay within 20 to 50 miles from shore, so maybe we'll get lucky and have occasional cell coverage, but I doubt it. We'll check in when we can, but remember that we'll all be fine and will be checking in with you soon.
Greg.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Filling in the details
Sorry that I dashed off at the end of the last post without finishing or proofreading. I found some grammatical errors and fixed those, but there may be others I've missed. Just as most people won't go back to read the corrections, I find it difficult to reread and edit something that I've already put out there. I'm moving on.
Since I dumped the bad news and then left everyone hanging, I'll address that first. I couldn't write about it when we first learned about it or even for a few days afterwards, because I wanted to relate what a great time the first day was up to that point with appropriate perspective that included the good and bad as a package, because that's the way life goes.
It's insufficient to say that we were all very bummed about the breakdown. Chuck could hardly talk or just didn't want to, but everyone was a bit grouchy or just wanted to process the bad news on their own, and it completely ruined my ability to write about the good parts. Now that I am able to see beyond the bad news and reflect on the day and the trip so far as a whole, I can describe both the good and bad in their appropriate lights.
After recovering from the initial kick in the gut of the bad news, I jumped on the Internet and searched for service options for our steering system. I left phone messages at two nearby search results, but we also learned that Indiantown Marina is a "full service" marina, and their service department would be able to look at the problem on Monday and let us know what could be done about it. The reason I ran off this morning was to get to the service manager shortly after they opened and get on his calendar.
The service manager came down to survey the problem within 15 minutes of our visit, and he had a mechanic assigned to work it immediately after his visit. The mechanic returned a little after 8 and completed removal of the broken part a little after 9. And then the service manager came back to the boat to explain that the rebuild kit was out of stock at their supplier's but that a new unit that appeared to be a drop-in replacement could be picked up and at the boat Tuesday morning. I went for the replacement option.
That's where we are, waiting for the new part, for it to be installed, and then have the fluid in the system replaced, air bled out of the lines, steering checked, and then sent merrily on our way. I'm hopeful that all of that will occur in time for us to make the two-hour transit to the next lock before it closes at 5 PM. Once through the lock, we'll continue on the path I outlined earlier, possibly heading into the open sea sometime tomorrow night or early tomorrow morning. That's the optimist in me talking, and that's what I'm going with for now.
I've stories to tell from the trip to get here that I skipped over, and I need to list all that we've accomplished while we've been here at Indiantown, but I'll have to save that for later. When we weren't doing projects today, we were visiting with Nicole and the grandkids (thanks for coming by), Todd and I had father/son time, the four of us at once or different pairs of us had guy time, and that didn't leave much time for blogging. Now it's time to go to bed.
Be well.
Greg.
Since I dumped the bad news and then left everyone hanging, I'll address that first. I couldn't write about it when we first learned about it or even for a few days afterwards, because I wanted to relate what a great time the first day was up to that point with appropriate perspective that included the good and bad as a package, because that's the way life goes.
It's insufficient to say that we were all very bummed about the breakdown. Chuck could hardly talk or just didn't want to, but everyone was a bit grouchy or just wanted to process the bad news on their own, and it completely ruined my ability to write about the good parts. Now that I am able to see beyond the bad news and reflect on the day and the trip so far as a whole, I can describe both the good and bad in their appropriate lights.
After recovering from the initial kick in the gut of the bad news, I jumped on the Internet and searched for service options for our steering system. I left phone messages at two nearby search results, but we also learned that Indiantown Marina is a "full service" marina, and their service department would be able to look at the problem on Monday and let us know what could be done about it. The reason I ran off this morning was to get to the service manager shortly after they opened and get on his calendar.
The service manager came down to survey the problem within 15 minutes of our visit, and he had a mechanic assigned to work it immediately after his visit. The mechanic returned a little after 8 and completed removal of the broken part a little after 9. And then the service manager came back to the boat to explain that the rebuild kit was out of stock at their supplier's but that a new unit that appeared to be a drop-in replacement could be picked up and at the boat Tuesday morning. I went for the replacement option.
That's where we are, waiting for the new part, for it to be installed, and then have the fluid in the system replaced, air bled out of the lines, steering checked, and then sent merrily on our way. I'm hopeful that all of that will occur in time for us to make the two-hour transit to the next lock before it closes at 5 PM. Once through the lock, we'll continue on the path I outlined earlier, possibly heading into the open sea sometime tomorrow night or early tomorrow morning. That's the optimist in me talking, and that's what I'm going with for now.
I've stories to tell from the trip to get here that I skipped over, and I need to list all that we've accomplished while we've been here at Indiantown, but I'll have to save that for later. When we weren't doing projects today, we were visiting with Nicole and the grandkids (thanks for coming by), Todd and I had father/son time, the four of us at once or different pairs of us had guy time, and that didn't leave much time for blogging. Now it's time to go to bed.
Be well.
Greg.
There were several highlights along the way from the marina where we started to our intended first-day destination, Indiantown Marina. There were two locks to "lock through," the Okeechobee Lake to cross and miles of water to navigate safely, enjoying the sights and weather along the way.
We were doing regular engine room checks while underway. I had been down for the 3 we did throughout the day, the first one by myself, the second with Todd, and for the third I asked Scott to join me, because he had a critical eye and had some questions about things I was seeing that I couldn't answer. The engine room is noisy while running at speed, but with hearing protection on it wasn't bad, and thankfully I had two pairs of sound attenuators. It's also hot, but not as hot as I thought it would be. During each check, we'd record for both engines: fuel pressure on the Racor filter housing, oil pressure,and transmission temperature, and then I'd usually note any general observations, like "oil seeping from port engine oil filter, tried to hand tighten but too hot," bilge conditions, etc. Later, I'd use the general observations to ask questions or make adjustments that couldn't be made while the engines were running.
The engine room checks were okay, but there were a couple concerns that we were watching: The shaft logs were not dripping, the starboard fuel pressure at the Racor was climbing and currently in the middle of the yellow zone, and Scott noticed a very minor leak in the steering system that we agreed to clean up and monitor.
We had planned to stop at Indiantown Marina, because we couldn't make the third and final lock between our starting point and the ocean before the locks closed at 5 PM. The marina was easy to find, just 80 yards or so off the canal. Their dockage area is small compared to where we came from, the land boat storage area is huge, and it is covered with many, many boats.
Chuck did a masterful job backing into a spot on the 'face dock' with another boat already on the dock. The owner of that boat came to catch lines as we pulled in. We completed tying up and our arrival boat chores. I was so excited about the day that I sat down immediately and cracked open the computer to begin the "Could it get any better?" post. Shortly after I'd written the title and talked about grinning from ear to ear, I heard Scott call from the engine room hatch in the cockpit, "Greg, you'd better come see this."
Not wanting to leave my current task, I asked, "Is it a show-stopper?"
"Just come see," he answered.
Behind the ladder to the engine room is where the steering mechanism is, and the small leak we'd noted earlier on the shelf where the steering slave cylinder was installed had become a huge puddle of oil. I looked inside the engine room at the steering fluid reservoir and noted that it was empty or very close to it, and the pressure gauge on the top was at or very near zero. Our hydraulic steering had lost all fluid and was now useless.
We have to run to talk to the marina service guy right now, but I'll put this disaster in perspective and describe what we're up to in order to keep going. I'll know more about the latter when we return and schedule a service call, so holding that for later will be best.
Back soon,
Greg.
 |
| Todd and Scott preparing the fenders for the lock ahead. |
The locks were a new experience for me. Scott had recently sailed in Europe where he had to go through hundreds of locks, so he was familiar with the many variations the locks could present. The general things a boat operator needs to know about a lock is: How to request passage, when is it okay to enter, what side of the lock to be on, whether the lock provides lines or the boat must have lines ready, and another nice-to-know is how much the lock will lift or lower the boat. The locks along the canal are all operated by the same organization, so the procedures seemed to be consistent among them.
The basics of the process will be documented on the charts for the area. The lock keepers monitor a specific VHF radio channel and will respond to requests for opening or passage made on that frequency. At our first lock, the keeper gave us pretty thorough instructions, something like: "There is currently a westbound vessel in the lock. Approach the lock, remain starboard to let the westbound vessel pass, wait until the light turns green to enter the lock. You can use my lines, use either side of the lock to tie up, and the lock will lift you a foot and a half. Expect about a 20-minute wait." Those were very thorough instructions with some additional information that was helpful.
We had to use our binoculars to find the light the keeper referred to, and it was a typical traffic stoplight, currently red. Chuck let us deckhands know that he intended to tie up starboard side to, and then Scott guided Todd and I through the preparations. Two of the large round fenders were tied fore and aft midships. Todd was to monitor those and rescue them if it we approached the lock wall with any speed that could possibly roll the fender out of the way or scrape it off. Scott was positioned in the cockpit and I was on the bow, both of us had a boat hook, and our job was to collect one of the lock's lines, loosely affix it to a cleat on the boat, and then monitor it as the lock filled, taking out slack to keep the boat next to the wall.
After hanging out outside the lock for 10 to 15 minutes, the lock doors opened, and we could see the westbound boat on the starboard side of the lock. The boat in the lock seemed to take forever to move away from the wall and begin moving out of the lock. We heard the lock keeper shout something at the boat, but we couldn't quite make it out. I imagined it was something like, "What are you waiting for? Get out of here," but that's what I wanted to say, and I suspect the lock keeper was nicer and was probably just wishing them a good day.
Chuck motored the boat gently to keep our distance and the boat's position to starboard while the outbound boat passed us, and then we waited patiently for the green light. And waited. And waited. Finally, Chuck called on the radio, requesting a green light. There was a 15-second pause, and the lock keeper responded, "Ignore the red light, proceed into the lock, Captain." Apparently, there was a malfunction of some kind, or the lock keeper wasn't able to get back to the light control to make it green, but the lock was ready, and we entered.
We were ready, knew what to expect, and the process was fairly simple. Apart from Chuck skilfully moving the boat to the starboard wall and getting next to it and stopping at the point we wanted to tie up, the hardest part was deciding which lock line to grab and secure to the boat. The lock lines were dangling down from the top of the lock wall, spaced approximately every 20 feet. The boat came close to the wall and practically stopped, so I grabbed the line closest to the starboard spring line cleat, checking to make sure that Scott had a line nearby, and then I took a turn around the cleat and waited to adjust it as the boat moved. That was it. We were ready to move a foot and a half.
The lock doors closed. There may have been some water pumped into the lock where we sat to lift us some, but what appeared to happen is that the lock doors on the exit side began to open very slowly, letting in the higher water on the other side at a very controlled and comfortable rate. The change in height was barely noticeable. My only indication of vertical movement was that the line I was holding became slack. I supposed the wall was also moving down slowly, but I didn't really notice that.
At one of the locks, Scott pointed out that there are small bollards (vertical attachment points) set into the wall every 6 feet or so. Some of the locks he'd transited in Europe required the boat to use their own lines, and the only way to attach the boat to the wall was by using those bollards, and those locks moved the boat much more than a foot and a half. The line handlers had to scramble to move the lines up or down the wall as the boat was raised or lowered, keeping movement away from or along the wall to a minimum, because there were often many boats in the lock at one time, sometimes packed in tightly. Today we were lucky to be the only boat in the lock at both locks.
Once the exit doors had opened completely, we were at the new water level and ready to continue on our journey. Chuck gently moved the boat away from the wall and began moving forward. The keeper did tell us to proceed, reporting that there were several boats waiting for the lock around the corner to the right, and that they should stay clear.
Once around the corner, we had to wait for a group of air boats that had just launched from a boat ramp there and were crossing the channel. The picture below is lousy but gives some idea of what we saw as we came out of the lock and turned the corner.
We were doing regular engine room checks while underway. I had been down for the 3 we did throughout the day, the first one by myself, the second with Todd, and for the third I asked Scott to join me, because he had a critical eye and had some questions about things I was seeing that I couldn't answer. The engine room is noisy while running at speed, but with hearing protection on it wasn't bad, and thankfully I had two pairs of sound attenuators. It's also hot, but not as hot as I thought it would be. During each check, we'd record for both engines: fuel pressure on the Racor filter housing, oil pressure,and transmission temperature, and then I'd usually note any general observations, like "oil seeping from port engine oil filter, tried to hand tighten but too hot," bilge conditions, etc. Later, I'd use the general observations to ask questions or make adjustments that couldn't be made while the engines were running.
The engine room checks were okay, but there were a couple concerns that we were watching: The shaft logs were not dripping, the starboard fuel pressure at the Racor was climbing and currently in the middle of the yellow zone, and Scott noticed a very minor leak in the steering system that we agreed to clean up and monitor.
There are other highlights along the way that I'll cover later, but the day is beginning aboard the boat and I need to cut to the chase. I won't leave a tease as I did at the end of my last post and not delivery, so here goes.
We had planned to stop at Indiantown Marina, because we couldn't make the third and final lock between our starting point and the ocean before the locks closed at 5 PM. The marina was easy to find, just 80 yards or so off the canal. Their dockage area is small compared to where we came from, the land boat storage area is huge, and it is covered with many, many boats.
Chuck did a masterful job backing into a spot on the 'face dock' with another boat already on the dock. The owner of that boat came to catch lines as we pulled in. We completed tying up and our arrival boat chores. I was so excited about the day that I sat down immediately and cracked open the computer to begin the "Could it get any better?" post. Shortly after I'd written the title and talked about grinning from ear to ear, I heard Scott call from the engine room hatch in the cockpit, "Greg, you'd better come see this."
Not wanting to leave my current task, I asked, "Is it a show-stopper?"
"Just come see," he answered.
Behind the ladder to the engine room is where the steering mechanism is, and the small leak we'd noted earlier on the shelf where the steering slave cylinder was installed had become a huge puddle of oil. I looked inside the engine room at the steering fluid reservoir and noted that it was empty or very close to it, and the pressure gauge on the top was at or very near zero. Our hydraulic steering had lost all fluid and was now useless.
We have to run to talk to the marina service guy right now, but I'll put this disaster in perspective and describe what we're up to in order to keep going. I'll know more about the latter when we return and schedule a service call, so holding that for later will be best.
Back soon,
Greg.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Can it get any better?
Many times throughout our first day underway we just looked at each other, smiled, and admitted how glad we were to be a part of this adventure, but I should back up and start at the beginning.
Todd and I arrived in the shuttle after midnight, and I went straight to bed and fell asleep shortly after. Todd was still reading when I closed my eyes, but his eyes were at half mast, so I'm sure he was out shortly after I was.
I heard Chuck and Scott talking around 4 AM, just mumbles in the background of whatever dreamland I was in. I didn't want to wake up. My head hurt, and I felt slightly hung over, probably due to dehydration. Even so, as I became conscious and began to understand some of what they were saying, I had to get up when I heard enough to determine they were plotting a takeover by preparing the boat for launch without me.
I struggled awake and dragged on my clothes, being careful to not disturb Todd sleeping on the air mattress at the foot of my bed. Scott and Chuck were already outside, deciding what had to be done to get underway. The list included: unhook the water and power and configure the boat for running on its own power and water; put things away securely inside the boat; turn on and warm up the electronics; configure the station being used to drive the boat with binoculars, charts, etc.; start and warm up the engines, and others. We didn't have a full list of what needed to be done understood among us, some of the items were obvious, others not so much, and we didn't know how long it would take to do all that needed to be done. Much of it unknown, some of it unrealized, we dove in and attacked it.
We ate breakfast, and I got Todd up around 6:00 AM and told him we would be getting underway shortly. I was thinking we'd be pulling out in 10 minutes or so, but somehow the time slipped away, and it was 6:20 before I started the engines. We warmed them up for what we thought was a reasonable time, everyone completed their pre-launch trips to the marina's restroom, and we slipped off the lines and pushed the boat off the dock around 6:30.
Chuck was a master driving the boat. We started pointed the wrong way, away from the marina's channel to the canal. At its widest, there there were roughly 4 boat lengths available to turn around in. Chuck gently backed the boat near the middle of the available turning space, and then using mostly the engines turned the boat completely around with very little movement forward or backward, perhaps half a boat length total. Once turned towards the canal, he shifted both engines forward and steered the boat through the very narrow marina channel. Through the channel, Chuck turned the boat left into the canal, bumped up the throttles, and headed east. The hardest part of the trip was over. We were really underway, the journey started.
The grin on my face wouldn't come off. After months of planning, anticipation, talking and constantly thinking about this day, wondering if it would ever come, it was here, and it was glorious, better than I could have imagined. There were still butterflies in my stomach. I knew there was a long way to go with lots to learn along the way, but we'd overcome the invisible forces that held the boat in the marina until it was ready to make the trip, and finally the boat was moving closer to her new home.
We learned how to operate the electronics along the way. We'd played with them before getting underway and glanced at the manuals, but the true understanding came with using them. There are different chart plotters at each helm, both with dated charts, but the boat's GPS position is shown accurately on both, and the depiction of the canal and the navaids along the way were right on. I used the Navionics+ application on my tablet as a backup, Chuck consulted his handheld GPS as needed to confirm what the boat's older systems were telling us, and there were other applications available on our phones to triple- and quadruple-check our course, speed, and movement over the ground.
As if the excitement of just being underway wasn't enough, the anticipation of discovery was high. Todd remarked at one point that the canal we were traveling though could have been a scene from Jurassic Park. The canal is teeming with wildlife that we rarely see, and we were excited to find what lay around the next bend, along the banks we traveled between, and in the water ahead of us. We saw many birds of many varieties, alligators floating like logs in the water alongside the boat, a few other boaters, fisherman, sailboats, and air boaters.
Todd and I arrived in the shuttle after midnight, and I went straight to bed and fell asleep shortly after. Todd was still reading when I closed my eyes, but his eyes were at half mast, so I'm sure he was out shortly after I was.
 |
| Admiring the sunset from the bow the night before the launch. |
I struggled awake and dragged on my clothes, being careful to not disturb Todd sleeping on the air mattress at the foot of my bed. Scott and Chuck were already outside, deciding what had to be done to get underway. The list included: unhook the water and power and configure the boat for running on its own power and water; put things away securely inside the boat; turn on and warm up the electronics; configure the station being used to drive the boat with binoculars, charts, etc.; start and warm up the engines, and others. We didn't have a full list of what needed to be done understood among us, some of the items were obvious, others not so much, and we didn't know how long it would take to do all that needed to be done. Much of it unknown, some of it unrealized, we dove in and attacked it.
 |
| The morning of the launch - beautiful! |
We felt we were ready to go shortly after 5:30 AM. We were standing around, looking at each other, and couldn't think of one more thing that needed to be done. Chuck decided there was just one more requirement: we needed to be able to see where we were going. His definition of enough light was to be able to see both sides of the channel. That seemed a reasonable requirement. I checked and saw that sunrise would be at 6:30 AM, and we figured that there would likely be enough light 20 to 30 minutes before that.
We ate breakfast, and I got Todd up around 6:00 AM and told him we would be getting underway shortly. I was thinking we'd be pulling out in 10 minutes or so, but somehow the time slipped away, and it was 6:20 before I started the engines. We warmed them up for what we thought was a reasonable time, everyone completed their pre-launch trips to the marina's restroom, and we slipped off the lines and pushed the boat off the dock around 6:30.
Chuck was a master driving the boat. We started pointed the wrong way, away from the marina's channel to the canal. At its widest, there there were roughly 4 boat lengths available to turn around in. Chuck gently backed the boat near the middle of the available turning space, and then using mostly the engines turned the boat completely around with very little movement forward or backward, perhaps half a boat length total. Once turned towards the canal, he shifted both engines forward and steered the boat through the very narrow marina channel. Through the channel, Chuck turned the boat left into the canal, bumped up the throttles, and headed east. The hardest part of the trip was over. We were really underway, the journey started.
 |
| The journey begins. |
We learned how to operate the electronics along the way. We'd played with them before getting underway and glanced at the manuals, but the true understanding came with using them. There are different chart plotters at each helm, both with dated charts, but the boat's GPS position is shown accurately on both, and the depiction of the canal and the navaids along the way were right on. I used the Navionics+ application on my tablet as a backup, Chuck consulted his handheld GPS as needed to confirm what the boat's older systems were telling us, and there were other applications available on our phones to triple- and quadruple-check our course, speed, and movement over the ground.
As if the excitement of just being underway wasn't enough, the anticipation of discovery was high. Todd remarked at one point that the canal we were traveling though could have been a scene from Jurassic Park. The canal is teeming with wildlife that we rarely see, and we were excited to find what lay around the next bend, along the banks we traveled between, and in the water ahead of us. We saw many birds of many varieties, alligators floating like logs in the water alongside the boat, a few other boaters, fisherman, sailboats, and air boaters.
Next, the started great but ends badly.
Collecting the crew and completing preparations
Chuck and Scott were delayed 'til Friday due to bad weather in Philly Thursday night. They left early Friday and arrived on the same flight that delivered me to the boat on Wednesday. With their delay, I spent the time I would have been traveling to pick them up on Thursday to complete some shopping and eating at a local pizza joint 30 miles away in the nearest town.
I felt really good about the boat and her readiness to make the trip when I left to pick up Scott and Chuck on Friday morning. I had some lack of confidence in my knowledge of a few of the boat's systems - starting the engines, for example - so I'd made arrangements to discuss those with a marina employee after returning from picking up Chuck and Scott at the airport.
Friday morning I made a last stop at the Wal*Mart on the way to the airport and then collected Chuck and Scott. We returned to the boat around 1030. Chuck and Scott settled in, and I let the yard know that we were ready to go through the systems with their most experienced technician. Scott listened in as I addressed my list of questions with the tech and added some good questions of his own. We covered engine start and shutdown, generator start and shutdown, how to position the main electrical switches for different power sources, specific questions about plumbing and waste management, fuel selection, changing the fuel filters, and a few other topics. It was very helpful, and when we were done, I felt my knowledge was good but confidence was low due to lack of experience. That would come with time, and I was ready to put in the time underway to get that experience.
After the tech left, we set about completing preparations for the trip. I asked Chuck and Scott to get comfortable, poke around, ask questions, and review the food aboard to find any missing items that they thought would be needed for a week afloat. They had to complete their crash course to become familiar with the boat and create a shopping list so that I could make the run into town, complete the shopping, and get back before I had to leave around 9 PM to pickup up Todd and turn in the rental car.
One of the items the tech suggested we have was a gallon jug of diesel to top off the filter canister after changing filter elements. Coincidentally, I'd looked for an approved diesel container during the Thursday evening shopping trip, but the smallest I could find was 5 gallons. That was too much. I later asked the tech what he used, and he'd been using a plastic Arizona Iced Tea jug for the past 2 or 3 years. Though I imagined getting arrested for filling an unapproved container with fuel at the gas station, Scott latched onto the idea of diesel in the Arizona Iced Tea jug and wouldn't let go.
In turn, they asked me to get to work on the AIS, because they couldn't wait to play with that new toy and see how it worked. They also felt that it would be very helpful during the offshore portion of our trip. I surveyed what I needed to complete the AIS installation, and Scott and Chuck completed their shopping list. I headed to town by 3 PM to pick up just a few items. Scott and Chuck stayed aboard to nap and continue familiarizing themselves with the boat.
I went to the hardware store first to get what I needed for the AIS install and to check again for a smaller diesel container, hoping by some miracle they'd gotten a shipment of 1 gallon containers since yesterday. No miracle, no luck. I decided, without enthusiasm, to embrace the Arizona Iced Tea idea. I then completed the grocery shopping at the local Winn Dixie, only missing 1 item on the list, plastic hangars.
Chuck and Scott were somewhat refreshed when I returned, loaded with more questions. Scott's questions usually started with, "Do you have . . . ?" or "Have you tried . . . ?" and many of the questions resulted in a new item we needed for the trip. Simple stuff like tape, an all purpose lubricant, or motion sickness medication. Stuff you'd typically find in any household - well, maybe not the sea sick stuff - but that I hadn't thought of for the boat yet. Chuck was busy thinking about the journey, updating his charts with Scott's ideas about the offshore passage, and developing his plan for getting the boat off of the wall it was tied to, turned around, and headed out the narrow channel towards the canal.
I was wondering how I was going to fill the Arizona Iced Tea jug with diesel, turn in the rental car, pickup Todd, and then return - with my jug of diesel - in the shuttle. I decided I'd take a bag to hide the jug, something that would be commonly carried by an airline passenger; I wouldn't go in the airport with my jug of diesel if I could help it; and if I got arrested filling the unapproved container, the crew was on their own. I might be done with boating forever.
Fortunately, a new plan emerged. Scott and Chuck were hot and would appreciate a ride in the air conditioned rental car, we all needed to eat something, the "Do you have . . . " shopping list had a few items on it, and Todd's flight was delayed at least an hour. Those factors added up to another trip to town with everyone to complete the shopping, eat, fill the gallon jug with diesel, and then return to the boat. We executed the new plan flawlessly, except I asked Scott to fill the gallon jug so that I could be spared jail time, but he refused, and I didn't even use the term "sacrificial lamb" that I was thinking when I asked him.
The trip back to the airport to return the rental car and pickup Todd went equally well. I'd been talking to the shuttle driver throughout the day, and he was already aware of Todd's delay and would be ready to pick us up when he arrived, however late it became. The trip back in the shuttle was fine. I wanted to take a quick nap, but the shuttle driver was chatty. Thankfully, Todd kept him busy while I faded in and out.
I made sure Todd was familiar enough to get around the boat to find what he needed and had a place to sleep and then I crawled into bed and was out. Any day that ends without getting arrested is a good day.
Greg.
I felt really good about the boat and her readiness to make the trip when I left to pick up Scott and Chuck on Friday morning. I had some lack of confidence in my knowledge of a few of the boat's systems - starting the engines, for example - so I'd made arrangements to discuss those with a marina employee after returning from picking up Chuck and Scott at the airport.
Friday morning I made a last stop at the Wal*Mart on the way to the airport and then collected Chuck and Scott. We returned to the boat around 1030. Chuck and Scott settled in, and I let the yard know that we were ready to go through the systems with their most experienced technician. Scott listened in as I addressed my list of questions with the tech and added some good questions of his own. We covered engine start and shutdown, generator start and shutdown, how to position the main electrical switches for different power sources, specific questions about plumbing and waste management, fuel selection, changing the fuel filters, and a few other topics. It was very helpful, and when we were done, I felt my knowledge was good but confidence was low due to lack of experience. That would come with time, and I was ready to put in the time underway to get that experience.
After the tech left, we set about completing preparations for the trip. I asked Chuck and Scott to get comfortable, poke around, ask questions, and review the food aboard to find any missing items that they thought would be needed for a week afloat. They had to complete their crash course to become familiar with the boat and create a shopping list so that I could make the run into town, complete the shopping, and get back before I had to leave around 9 PM to pickup up Todd and turn in the rental car.
One of the items the tech suggested we have was a gallon jug of diesel to top off the filter canister after changing filter elements. Coincidentally, I'd looked for an approved diesel container during the Thursday evening shopping trip, but the smallest I could find was 5 gallons. That was too much. I later asked the tech what he used, and he'd been using a plastic Arizona Iced Tea jug for the past 2 or 3 years. Though I imagined getting arrested for filling an unapproved container with fuel at the gas station, Scott latched onto the idea of diesel in the Arizona Iced Tea jug and wouldn't let go.
In turn, they asked me to get to work on the AIS, because they couldn't wait to play with that new toy and see how it worked. They also felt that it would be very helpful during the offshore portion of our trip. I surveyed what I needed to complete the AIS installation, and Scott and Chuck completed their shopping list. I headed to town by 3 PM to pick up just a few items. Scott and Chuck stayed aboard to nap and continue familiarizing themselves with the boat.
I went to the hardware store first to get what I needed for the AIS install and to check again for a smaller diesel container, hoping by some miracle they'd gotten a shipment of 1 gallon containers since yesterday. No miracle, no luck. I decided, without enthusiasm, to embrace the Arizona Iced Tea idea. I then completed the grocery shopping at the local Winn Dixie, only missing 1 item on the list, plastic hangars.
Chuck and Scott were somewhat refreshed when I returned, loaded with more questions. Scott's questions usually started with, "Do you have . . . ?" or "Have you tried . . . ?" and many of the questions resulted in a new item we needed for the trip. Simple stuff like tape, an all purpose lubricant, or motion sickness medication. Stuff you'd typically find in any household - well, maybe not the sea sick stuff - but that I hadn't thought of for the boat yet. Chuck was busy thinking about the journey, updating his charts with Scott's ideas about the offshore passage, and developing his plan for getting the boat off of the wall it was tied to, turned around, and headed out the narrow channel towards the canal.
I was wondering how I was going to fill the Arizona Iced Tea jug with diesel, turn in the rental car, pickup Todd, and then return - with my jug of diesel - in the shuttle. I decided I'd take a bag to hide the jug, something that would be commonly carried by an airline passenger; I wouldn't go in the airport with my jug of diesel if I could help it; and if I got arrested filling the unapproved container, the crew was on their own. I might be done with boating forever.
Fortunately, a new plan emerged. Scott and Chuck were hot and would appreciate a ride in the air conditioned rental car, we all needed to eat something, the "Do you have . . . " shopping list had a few items on it, and Todd's flight was delayed at least an hour. Those factors added up to another trip to town with everyone to complete the shopping, eat, fill the gallon jug with diesel, and then return to the boat. We executed the new plan flawlessly, except I asked Scott to fill the gallon jug so that I could be spared jail time, but he refused, and I didn't even use the term "sacrificial lamb" that I was thinking when I asked him.
The trip back to the airport to return the rental car and pickup Todd went equally well. I'd been talking to the shuttle driver throughout the day, and he was already aware of Todd's delay and would be ready to pick us up when he arrived, however late it became. The trip back in the shuttle was fine. I wanted to take a quick nap, but the shuttle driver was chatty. Thankfully, Todd kept him busy while I faded in and out.
I made sure Todd was familiar enough to get around the boat to find what he needed and had a place to sleep and then I crawled into bed and was out. Any day that ends without getting arrested is a good day.
Greg.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Just a day in the life of a new boat owner.
It has been an eventful, busy, and overall successful day and a half. OH, and HOT! I love the heat and I love it even more when there's high humidity to go along with it, but it has been two days of temps in the mid- to upper-90s with equal humidity, and I'm ready for a break. It just so happens that the break is approaching or skirting close enough to cool the air and lessen the humidity. A thunderstorm is about 8 miles away (thanks to my nifty radar) creating a good blow and show as it passes, but I don't think I'll get much water from it, and that's good. Without the rain I can leave the boat open and take advantage of Nature's air conditioning.
After getting my rental car yesterday, I went straight to a Super Wal*Mart that's on the way to the marina and spent 2 hours filling 2 carts and my little Civic with groceries for the trip, and I still don't think we have enough food, but every time I've planned a trip and been responsible for the food, there's been way too much. I don't know that I'll keep the streak going,
Throughout the shopping trip, I was communicating with Nicole who was planning to bring the kids and dinner to the boat when she thought the youngest was ready for a nap. The timing turned out well. I'd gotten to the boat and had most of the groceries on the boat when Nicole pulled up. She dived right in and started putting things away for me, and when she was done with that, she unpacked the boxes I'd shipped from home and directly from vendors to the boat.
We cooked and ate dinner - it was delicious - I read a story to Julian that Nicole videoed so he could watch it anytime, then we cleaned up so we could hug goodbye. They were all great sports with the heat, the food was wonderful, and it was a great visit. And we didn't take one picture - well, besides the video - so I have no record of their visit to post. I hadn't unpacked my camera yet, and Nicole was mostly busy helping and keeping Sydney from diving off the steps to the salon floor. Oh well.
Dave, the mechanic, was finishing up his work in the engine room just as we sat down to eat. Not quite finished, because he discovered a leaky coolant hose on the generator and wanted to change it but couldn't because the engine had been running and was too hot. Instead of having him drive back out here or begging the yard to do it, I volunteered to get it done. I was up bright and early and attacked it in hopes of getting it done before it got too hot. Too late. It was too hot when I woke up, but it had to get done.
And it went well. I had the usual difficulty removing coolant hoses that had nearly become one with the engine parts they were attached to, and I tore up a knuckle trying to reach one of the clamps, but I needed to check out the first aid kit I'd gotten for the trip anyway. I'd hoped to have the yard guy here today to help me get the generator started and leak check it, but they were busy. We'll do it tomorrow.
I found the nagging water leak and fixed that. The owner had told us he'd noticed water in the bilges that had always been dry, so he knew there was a leak somewhere but wasn't sure where. Using no skill at all, I stepped on a small patch of wet carpet where should have been dry carpet, tore the nearby cabinet apart, and found water spraying or spritzing from under a hose clamp that wasn't tight enough. That seemed too easy, but I tightened it up and was done. No more leak. I then filled the fresh water tanks back up.
I discovered the TV works. I'm only getting local channels, but I've kept up with the news all day, and I noticed that iit doesn't change much. I've heard the same 6 top stories on a never-ending rotation sprinkled with the occasional special interest story, but it provides the noise in the background that I like to have.
Oops, the rain did make an appearance. I'd already come inside, because the bugs were being attracted to the laptop screen and then to me. The bugs convinced me that the idea I had to beat the heat by sleeping outdoors isn't one of my better ones.
I got a few projects started enough to figure out what I need from the hardware store finish the jobs or at least make significant progress before the next trip to town.
I put away all of the engine room spare parts that I'd ordered. Nicole opened the boxes for me, but we put them aside to stow below later. I made several trips to the dumpster to throw away boxes and packing material.
And I made so many adjustments and minor repairs around the boat that I've forgotten half of them.
Chuck and Scott were supposed to arrive today, but their flights were cancelled due to bad weather in Philly. They're coming in the morning instead. One less night on the boat in this heat without A/C is a good thing.
I'm boring myself, and it's cool enough now to take a shower and get ready for bed. It'll be another busy day tomorrow, but Chuck and Scott will be here to share it with. Now that my laptop is unpacked, I'll try to keep up with reporting the events.
Greg.
After getting my rental car yesterday, I went straight to a Super Wal*Mart that's on the way to the marina and spent 2 hours filling 2 carts and my little Civic with groceries for the trip, and I still don't think we have enough food, but every time I've planned a trip and been responsible for the food, there's been way too much. I don't know that I'll keep the streak going,
Throughout the shopping trip, I was communicating with Nicole who was planning to bring the kids and dinner to the boat when she thought the youngest was ready for a nap. The timing turned out well. I'd gotten to the boat and had most of the groceries on the boat when Nicole pulled up. She dived right in and started putting things away for me, and when she was done with that, she unpacked the boxes I'd shipped from home and directly from vendors to the boat.
We cooked and ate dinner - it was delicious - I read a story to Julian that Nicole videoed so he could watch it anytime, then we cleaned up so we could hug goodbye. They were all great sports with the heat, the food was wonderful, and it was a great visit. And we didn't take one picture - well, besides the video - so I have no record of their visit to post. I hadn't unpacked my camera yet, and Nicole was mostly busy helping and keeping Sydney from diving off the steps to the salon floor. Oh well.
Dave, the mechanic, was finishing up his work in the engine room just as we sat down to eat. Not quite finished, because he discovered a leaky coolant hose on the generator and wanted to change it but couldn't because the engine had been running and was too hot. Instead of having him drive back out here or begging the yard to do it, I volunteered to get it done. I was up bright and early and attacked it in hopes of getting it done before it got too hot. Too late. It was too hot when I woke up, but it had to get done.
And it went well. I had the usual difficulty removing coolant hoses that had nearly become one with the engine parts they were attached to, and I tore up a knuckle trying to reach one of the clamps, but I needed to check out the first aid kit I'd gotten for the trip anyway. I'd hoped to have the yard guy here today to help me get the generator started and leak check it, but they were busy. We'll do it tomorrow.
I found the nagging water leak and fixed that. The owner had told us he'd noticed water in the bilges that had always been dry, so he knew there was a leak somewhere but wasn't sure where. Using no skill at all, I stepped on a small patch of wet carpet where should have been dry carpet, tore the nearby cabinet apart, and found water spraying or spritzing from under a hose clamp that wasn't tight enough. That seemed too easy, but I tightened it up and was done. No more leak. I then filled the fresh water tanks back up.
I discovered the TV works. I'm only getting local channels, but I've kept up with the news all day, and I noticed that iit doesn't change much. I've heard the same 6 top stories on a never-ending rotation sprinkled with the occasional special interest story, but it provides the noise in the background that I like to have.
Oops, the rain did make an appearance. I'd already come inside, because the bugs were being attracted to the laptop screen and then to me. The bugs convinced me that the idea I had to beat the heat by sleeping outdoors isn't one of my better ones.
I got a few projects started enough to figure out what I need from the hardware store finish the jobs or at least make significant progress before the next trip to town.
I put away all of the engine room spare parts that I'd ordered. Nicole opened the boxes for me, but we put them aside to stow below later. I made several trips to the dumpster to throw away boxes and packing material.
And I made so many adjustments and minor repairs around the boat that I've forgotten half of them.
Chuck and Scott were supposed to arrive today, but their flights were cancelled due to bad weather in Philly. They're coming in the morning instead. One less night on the boat in this heat without A/C is a good thing.
I'm boring myself, and it's cool enough now to take a shower and get ready for bed. It'll be another busy day tomorrow, but Chuck and Scott will be here to share it with. Now that my laptop is unpacked, I'll try to keep up with reporting the events.
Greg.
Chuck's Version
Up until now I've been pretty quiet concerning this delivery. I posted a little something to Facebook to let my followers know that something kinda big (for me) was coming. So here is the beginning of my blog entries.
This trip started for me many years ago when Greg came to me and asked if he could join Sam and I on the old Lightning I'd bought to race on Thursday nights. Well, I guess I actually need to go a little further back. Sam, Greg and I worked together on the same project. Sam and I worked on the same team and Greg worked on another. Sam had said to me one day that he'd like to learn to sail.. I said, it was easy anyone could do it and that I'd teach him. It just so happened that I had a boat that I'd had for many years but that had been neglected in recent years. The plan was that I'd work on getting my boat ready to sail but in the meantime we needed something to sail. So I bought an old 19' Lightning and he and I learned to rig and sail it together. It was different from the larger keel boats I was used to but we persevered and showed up each week for the local races. Greg over heard us talking at work and asked if he could join us as he'd like to learn. He admitted that he was a powerboat kind of guy and really had no aptitude for sailing but was interested none-the-less. Over 10 years later he's still sailing with us. We no longer race but we still go out once a week for an afternoon/evening sail on Calliope my Pearson 28. It was during these weekday sails that Greg first started talking about wanting a big boat to spend a lot of time on.
Everyone thought it was just a daydream and that it would never come to fruition. So in the spirit of daydreams, I said "HELL YEAH!!! If you find something in Florida, I'll help you bring it up." Once. I said that once! He remembered it and is now holding me to my word.
Fast forward to December 2014:
I got a text from Greg saying he was looking at a couple of boats. One in the region and one in Florida. I offered a little friendly advice as I'd had some experience in this area and when the deal fell through, I thought, yep, this is just a pipe dream. Then after the first of the year and a particularly heavy snowfall requiring all of us to get out there and shovel walks and driveways, I got a text from Greg, saying he'd found a boat in Florida and that he'd had enough snow; He was going to Florida to look at it. In the next couple of days, I found out that he'd put an offer in and that it had been accepted. Okay now we're getting serious. As his friend, I felt compelled to offer what advice I could and the next thing I know I'm on my way to Florida to attend the survey.
After seeing the boat noting it's strengths (which were many) and weaknesses (which were few). I was ready to make the trip which is now in it's final planning stages. Greg has covered all that in previous posts so I won't rehash that.
So I'll talk about Scott. I wouldn't be making this trip if Scott weren't along. Scott and I have sailed together on each other's boats and on other peoples boats for 30years.
We've known each other for probably 50 years and as Greg said we each went our separate ways as adults. I had a career in the Coast Guard which put me on the water professionally and was bitten by the sailing bug in the late 70's. That's when I bought CALLIOPE. Scott sailed with me once in those early years but he wasn't bitten until later. Once he'd been bitten, he'd call me up every year or so and ask if I still had my boat and if we could go out for a weekend. We had some awesome trips in those days. When he got into the larger keel boats he'd invite me to sail on his boat and they were always an adventure. I don't think I ever turned down an offer to sail with him. Scott has over the years had many many adventures to include sailing through a hurricane in the North Atlantic but most recently he sat for and was issued his Captain's license from the U.S. Coast Guard.
So when this trip came together, there was only one person I wanted to fill out this crew. Only one person I trusted implicitly. We don't always agree on how things should be done but we always get there safely and with lots of stories to tell.
More to follow...
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
The end is nigh!
The waiting, the money flying out of the bank like bats from a cave at sunset, the anticipation, frustration, and doubt that I even own a boat all come to an end tomorrow. I'll get to the boat sometime after noon with a car full of groceries to put away and breathe a deep sigh of relief knowing that in just a few short days we'll be "Kickin' the tires and lightin' the fires" to start the trip home. Phew!
And the doubts and concerns! They will still be there like that nagging feeling you've forgotten something as you leave your driveway on that vacation or business trip. The usual way I dispel those thoughts is to tell myself, "If I absolutely have to have it, I can buy it on the road." Unfortunately, that's probably not true this time. Even if there aren't magic words to make the doubts and concerns go away, the reality of being on the road should melt them away.
I'm exhausted with the preparation and thinking about preparing when I should have been sleeping. But that's it, I'm at the threshold of the journey, eager to take that first step, but I think I'll get a few hours sleep first.
Posts between now and getting underway may be short, but I'll check in long enough to update all on the preparation progress.
Greg.
And the doubts and concerns! They will still be there like that nagging feeling you've forgotten something as you leave your driveway on that vacation or business trip. The usual way I dispel those thoughts is to tell myself, "If I absolutely have to have it, I can buy it on the road." Unfortunately, that's probably not true this time. Even if there aren't magic words to make the doubts and concerns go away, the reality of being on the road should melt them away.
I'm exhausted with the preparation and thinking about preparing when I should have been sleeping. But that's it, I'm at the threshold of the journey, eager to take that first step, but I think I'll get a few hours sleep first.
Posts between now and getting underway may be short, but I'll check in long enough to update all on the preparation progress.
Greg.
Monday, June 15, 2015
The journey
I laid out the journey on a chart program called Navionics+ on my tablet and used it to approximate the times shown on the graphics below. Recognize that these times don't include the many real-world influences that could either slow us down or speed us up. It also doesn't take into account the crew's wishes. The crew may not want to make a 4-day offshore passage. We may run out of food or soda or something the crew needs to be comfortable. Seasickness . . . I'd better stop. You get the picture.
Speculating about the things that could go wrong is straying into another blog topic I had in mind, "What could go wrong?" that keeps me from sleeping as well as I normally do. I know Chuck has been having similar thoughts when he should be sleeping. Just know that the four of us have tried to think of everything we should prepare for, and we've done our best to be prepared.
And now I realize that I don't have any motion sickness remedies. Hey guys, if you need them, bring them. And bring extra for those who don't know yet that they need them, because they've never done anything like this before.
Back to the journey. I arrive at the boat on Wednesday to buy food, stock the boat, and put away all of the stuff that I've had shipped to the boat over the past 2 weeks. I have a few projects I want to at least start before we leave, and I'll work on those Thursday and Friday. Chuck and Scott arrive late Thursday, and Todd arrives late Friday. We will leave early(ish) on Saturday to be at the first lock by 0700 when it opens. Here's the chart that diagrams the first day and part of the second:
The Navionics+ chart program tells me that it is just under 13NM to the first lock, and that it will take just under 2 hours to get there at 7.5 knots. We can do a little better than 7.5 knots if we want to, but I charted the journey at 7.5 knots as a conservative average. To be there when the lock opens at 0700, we'll be leaving the marina around 0500. Chuck and I are both early risers - if we sleep at all the night before - so the early start shouldn't be a problem.
The next lock on the other side of the lake is 6-1/2 hours from the start. Getting through the first lock will add some delay to the times, but even if it adds 30 minutes, we should be at the second lock around noon. If we're there that early, we may rethink spending the night at Indiantown Marina, or we may all be ready for a break after the excitement of finally starting the trip and not sleeping much the night before. Even if we did continue on, that might force us into an unfamiliar anchorage, anchoring the boat for the first time or navigating unfamiliar waters in the dark. We'll talk it over as we go and decide what to do.
To transition from the above graphic to the next, note that I restarted the clock from the Sunday morning start at Indiantown on the first graphic and then drove off the top towards Fort Pierce. The total time from Indiantown to the Fort Pierce inlet is 6 hours and 23 minutes. We have another lock to go through between Indiantown and Stuart, so that could slow us down roughly 30 minutes.
The next graphic picks up the trip at the Fort Pierce inlet and shows the rest of the way to Solomons with the total distance from the second start point and the time in hours shown at each major point along the way. I simplified the route shown by the blue lines on all of the graphics, but the depiction is close. The farthest we plan to cruise from land is ~100 NM, and that furthest point is shown on the graphic east of Jacksonville. If the weather's iffy or we're still gaining confidence in the boat, we'll stay closer to land which will increase the total trip distance somewhat, possibly a lot if we have to seek the shelter of the Intracoastal Waterway, or ICW.
We're going to drop Scott off at Deltaville, VA after we get into the Chesapeake Bay, and that stop is not included in the distance or times shown. 116 hours is 4 days and 20 hours. Let's call that 5 days. That plus the first day makes 6 days.
We may decide to get fuel along the way. Fuel gauges and boats don't seem to go well together and since we don't know this boat well, we may not want to let the tanks get too empty. Plus, the boat should ride better as there is more full in the tanks.
Like fuel gauges, plans don't go well with boats. Boaters need to have them, but all boaters know that a plan is something to deviate from, never what actually happens. The graphics above show what could happen in an ideal world with smooth seas, no wind or current, and a perfect boat driven by infallible machines, but probably not what will happen.
The graphics should give the crew and those following our progress some idea of what to expect. If we travel offshore out of Fort Pierce and all goes well until we get off the coast of North Carolina, you may not hear from us for ~3 days. The crew may not be comfortable being out of contact that long, so we may stray from the lines I've drawn above to get close enough to shore to update our weather and let our loved ones know that all is well.
This boat has been all over the East Coast of the US, down the river system from New York to the Gulf of Mexico and into the Caribbean and South America where the previous owners lived on her for 6+ years. It is capable of going anywhere there's water deep enough to float her - about 4-1/2 feet. She's a good boat, and she'll get us all home safely. I'm excited to get going and prove it!
Greg.
Sunday, June 14, 2015
The boat and getting her ready for the trip home
Branwen has two steering stations or helms, one topside - the fly bridge - and one inside in the pilothouse. The fly bridge is underneath the topmost awning in the above picture, and the pilothouse is behind the forward-facing windows. There are two heads - bathrooms - each has a toilet, sink and shower, two staterooms - places to sleep - a galley or kitchen, and a main living area known as the salon or saloon. The engine room is beneath the salon where there are two main engines that turn propellers to move the boat through the water, a generator, and other support and comfort systems like air conditioners, water pumps, lots of electrical 'stuff', and tanks to hold fuel and water. The fuel tanks are located in low places all over the boat, holding a total of roughly 1,400 gallons of diesel, and the water tanks hold over 400 gallons of fresh water. There's also a pilot's berth, another place to sleep, in the pilothouse.
The previous owners lived on the boat for many years, and then parked her behind their home in Florida for roughly 6 years after they retired from cruising. While the boat was parked, some of the maintenance that would have normally been done on a boat being actively used was not done. When I bought the boat, the impact of the 'deferred maintenance' was noted by the inspectors, or surveyors, I hired to go over the boat for completing the sale, and the price of the boat was reduced some to reflect the work that needed to be done to get the boat ready to cruise again.
Chuck and I went over the surveyor's reports and decided what had to be corrected before the boat was ready to make the voyage to Maryland. Some of the corrections were done by the marina where she was parked after the sale, and the intense mechanical work was done by the mechanic I'd hired to survey the engines. The work took longer than I expected, the timeline is outlined below.
The boat became mine at the end of March, the former owner drove her to a nearby marina, and she was hauled out on April 1st, put on blocks, and then worked on out of the water, or "on the hard," until May 28th. While she was on the hard, the starboard main engine was removed and rebuilt, the props and shafts were removed, the props trued and the shafts replaced with new, the engine room fire suppression system was inspected and recertified, and several other minor discrepancies were corrected. As she was put back in the water on May 28th, the starboard engine was fork lifted back onto the boat, and then the mechanic worked for several days to complete the engine install and do a major service on the port engine and the generator. Completing the generator work is the mechanic's final task which is planned to be done June 16th.
I visited the boat 3 times while it was being worked on, two times with Mary. During each visit I studied the boat's systems and monitored the work completed, the work being done, and the work yet to do. Mary and I lived on the boat during the last visit. Actually living on the boat and depending on its systems to exist was the best way to learn about the boat. During the last visit I also had the benefit of the former owner's time to explain the boat's systems. It came at me fast and furious, and the boat was still torn up for the mechanic's work, so I'll be getting a refresher course from the yard's experts on a couple of the systems I'm fuzzy on before we start the journey home.
Another important task to complete before beginning the voyage home was to 'officially' christen the boat with her new name. Mary prepared a temporary sheet of vinyl with the new name which she applied and covered the day before the ceremony, and then we were joined by my daughter Nicole, her husband Chris, and my two grandkids, Julian and Sydney, to participate in the denaming and renaming ceremonies. The first picture below shows Mary leading the denaming ceremony while Nicole and Chris work to keep the kids engaged. It was incredibly bright and hot on the bow, and we were all squinting and sweating. The kids did great. The second picture shows Julian and Mary unveiling the new name after the renaming ceremony.
Mary leading the denaming ceremony
Julian and Mary unveiling the new name
Next, I'll outline the voyage home with a rough estimate of where we'll be when.
Greg.
The delivery crew and land support
[A picture of the crew - in crew T-shirts - will be added before we get underway.]
In addition to Chuck, the delivery captain, and myself, Greg, the proud and poorer owner, Captain Scott and my son Todd will be joining us for the journey.
Chuck has known Scott since childhood. They were friends, each in separate families that did things together as they grew up in Virginia in the 60's. Though they each took different paths from there, they maintained contact and their friendship. Scott has been as active on the water as Chuck, possibly more active in some ways. I met Scott briefly several years ago as he was passing through Solomons on his sailboat and he has acquired his USCG Captain's license.
When the sale of my boat became final and we knew there'd be a delivery sometime in the future, Chuck suggested we invite Scott, and of course I agreed. I'm glad Scott agreed and is able to join us, and I look forward to getting to know him better and to learn from him along the way. He's already been a big part of preparing for the trip, suggesting many things for safety and comfort that wouldn't have occurred to me.
Todd, my oldest son, and I have been boating together since he was 4, roughly 24 years total. We began boating with another family on their boat in California in the early 90s and then got a boat of our own in 2000, shortly after moving to Maryland. Todd's work situation is not as flexible as the rest of the crew's, but his supervisors have been very supportive of him making this trip, changing his leave dates and even agreeing to go short-handed as the delivery dates have changed. I'm very thankful for their support. Todd wouldn't be able to make the trip without it. While we've had good luck with our small boat being reliable and USUALLY getting us back to the ramp each time we launch her, there have been on-water failures from which we've had to either limp or be towed back to the ramp. Throughout our on-water adventures, Todd has shown that he's equally able when there's fun to be had and when the going gets tough. He's quick to offer solutions to problems, keeps a cool head, and will jump into help before being asked, and he's quick to see and point out the humor in any situation. Having him on the crew is not only a significant father/son event, he'll be a great asset.
In addition to those of us on the boat, there has been and will continue to be a supporting crew back home behind every one of us. My wife Mary will be anxiously waiting at home to hear every step of the adventure, standing by to help, if needed. She'll be getting regular updates via cell, text, email, and this blog when we have connectivity, but I know that she and others will be concerned when we lose connectivity and the period between reports lengthens. We'll do our best to keep everyone informed, but accept that there may be 3 to 4 days without communication from us. We'll warn you when connectivity is getting weak or about to be lost.
I've read the blogs of others planning offshore passages, and they've asked their families to NOT call the Coast Guard when the messages from the voyagers suddenly stop. It's scary, I'm sure, but we'll do our best to warn you before it happens and give our best estimate when communications should improve.
It's been over 5 years, but I did a transit down the east coast in a US Navy ship in sight of land - usually well populated - most of the time. I was surprised at how little cell coverage there was under those conditions, and we're planning to be out further than that for 3 to 4 days at a time. Have faith in us individually and together as a crew to be as safe as possible and to get ourselves out of any jams we might get into.
I'll put together a float plan and leave a copy with Mary, probably posting it here in some form, so that everyone will know what to expect and to have some basis for knowing when to be concerned and when not to.
On the boat and ashore, we've assembled a great crew, and I look forward to starting the adventure and sharing with all of you the highs and lows - mostly highs - along the way and then the celebration as we arrive safely at our destination.
Next, I'll talk about the boat and the work that has been done to get her ready for the trip.
Greg.
In addition to Chuck, the delivery captain, and myself, Greg, the proud and poorer owner, Captain Scott and my son Todd will be joining us for the journey.
Chuck has known Scott since childhood. They were friends, each in separate families that did things together as they grew up in Virginia in the 60's. Though they each took different paths from there, they maintained contact and their friendship. Scott has been as active on the water as Chuck, possibly more active in some ways. I met Scott briefly several years ago as he was passing through Solomons on his sailboat and he has acquired his USCG Captain's license.
When the sale of my boat became final and we knew there'd be a delivery sometime in the future, Chuck suggested we invite Scott, and of course I agreed. I'm glad Scott agreed and is able to join us, and I look forward to getting to know him better and to learn from him along the way. He's already been a big part of preparing for the trip, suggesting many things for safety and comfort that wouldn't have occurred to me.
Todd, my oldest son, and I have been boating together since he was 4, roughly 24 years total. We began boating with another family on their boat in California in the early 90s and then got a boat of our own in 2000, shortly after moving to Maryland. Todd's work situation is not as flexible as the rest of the crew's, but his supervisors have been very supportive of him making this trip, changing his leave dates and even agreeing to go short-handed as the delivery dates have changed. I'm very thankful for their support. Todd wouldn't be able to make the trip without it. While we've had good luck with our small boat being reliable and USUALLY getting us back to the ramp each time we launch her, there have been on-water failures from which we've had to either limp or be towed back to the ramp. Throughout our on-water adventures, Todd has shown that he's equally able when there's fun to be had and when the going gets tough. He's quick to offer solutions to problems, keeps a cool head, and will jump into help before being asked, and he's quick to see and point out the humor in any situation. Having him on the crew is not only a significant father/son event, he'll be a great asset.
In addition to those of us on the boat, there has been and will continue to be a supporting crew back home behind every one of us. My wife Mary will be anxiously waiting at home to hear every step of the adventure, standing by to help, if needed. She'll be getting regular updates via cell, text, email, and this blog when we have connectivity, but I know that she and others will be concerned when we lose connectivity and the period between reports lengthens. We'll do our best to keep everyone informed, but accept that there may be 3 to 4 days without communication from us. We'll warn you when connectivity is getting weak or about to be lost.
I've read the blogs of others planning offshore passages, and they've asked their families to NOT call the Coast Guard when the messages from the voyagers suddenly stop. It's scary, I'm sure, but we'll do our best to warn you before it happens and give our best estimate when communications should improve.
It's been over 5 years, but I did a transit down the east coast in a US Navy ship in sight of land - usually well populated - most of the time. I was surprised at how little cell coverage there was under those conditions, and we're planning to be out further than that for 3 to 4 days at a time. Have faith in us individually and together as a crew to be as safe as possible and to get ourselves out of any jams we might get into.
I'll put together a float plan and leave a copy with Mary, probably posting it here in some form, so that everyone will know what to expect and to have some basis for knowing when to be concerned and when not to.
On the boat and ashore, we've assembled a great crew, and I look forward to starting the adventure and sharing with all of you the highs and lows - mostly highs - along the way and then the celebration as we arrive safely at our destination.
Next, I'll talk about the boat and the work that has been done to get her ready for the trip.
Greg.
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Finding my delivery captain and then the boat
I’ve dreamed of someday having my own boat, a big boat, large enough to take me and my wife most anywhere, a boat on which a couple and occasional guests could comfortably live for weeks at a time, possibly years. Part of realizing this dream was to learn more about boats by being around boats and those who knew about boats.
I met Chuck at work in the early 2000‘s. Not long after meeting him, I learned that he had agreed to teach someone else we worked with how to sail. He got a small sailboat and the two of them participated in the afternoon races put on weekly by the local sailing club. I wanted to participate, but I didn’t want to inject myself into their arrangement, so I volunteered to fill in when they needed someone. They pulled me in as a third crew member right away which was a bit crowded on the small boat and probably more weight than could be carried to be competitive, but winning wasn’t the goal.
As I got to know Chuck and respect him for his knowledge of boating and his boating experience, I told him of my dream to someday have a big boat. I told him that if my dream ever came true, he was going to be my delivery captain. I don’t know that I ever asked him if that was alright with him or if he agreed. I just told him that’s the way it was going to be. He may have not been concerned about actually having to play the role, because I think he and the third member of our sailing crew doubted that my dream would come true. A bet might have been suggested, but I don’t know that both sides would have been covered.
Over the 2014 Christmas holiday, my wife and I looked at and made an offer on a boat in Virginia and, as my designated delivery captain, I kept Chuck informed throughout the whole process. There was another boat like it in Florida, and Chuck remarked, “Delivery from Virginia would be easier.” The deal on the Virginia boat fell through, thankfully, and pursuing the boat in Florida seemed too hard.
In fact, the Virginia boat experience was so bad, primarily because of the brokers involved, that I swore off boat buying for a few years, at least boat buying that had anything to do with brokers. Since I didn’t think it was possible to buy a boat without a broker these days, I assumed my boat buying days were over. I began to doubt that my dream would ever come true. I even <gasp!> started looking at sailboats, thinking that a sailboat I could afford to buy outright in a private sale might be my only chance at having a boat that could take me places, even if it wasn’t the boat of my dreams.
But I didn’t give up completely. I held out some hope, and I dabbled, looking occasionally, seeking out boats for sale in places I’d never looked before, pretending I wasn’t really interested, if that's possible sitting by oneself at a computer.
One of those places I looked where I’d never looked before was craigslist in South Florida. I figured that’s where the boats are. I didn’t know if craigslist’s reputation among boat buyers and sellers was good or bad, but it seemed a bit like the Wild West of boat buying. Even so, over the President’s Day weekend that’s where I found the boat of my dreams being sold by the owner at a reasonable asking price. I found it on Sunday, and while I was shoveling snow on Tuesday, I decided that I had to go see her.
Again, I kept Chuck informed. I made an offer after looking at her, and the owners accepted it before I left their place. When I set up the survey, I asked Chuck to join me, and he agreed. Actually, when I told my wife that I was having the boat surveyed, she said, “You’re taking Chuck, right?” But I’d already planned to ask him and assumed he’d come with me. Chuck advised me on surveyors, and I picked them after looking at their websites and talking with them. We surveyed her 2 weeks later, and I negotiated the final price with the owners within 5 days of the survey. Chuck reviewed the surveys and offered his advice throughout the final negotiations. When the deal was final, we celebrated - virtually.
All along, I let everyone know - the previous owners, the surveyors, the folks at the yard, casual observers, EVERYONE - that Chuck was my delivery captain. I’m still not sure I ever asked him, but he hasn’t complained or suggested that I’ve taken advantage of his (usual) good nature. We’ll see if he holds it together during the actual delivery or if I finally find out what he’s really thinking about being drafted to be my delivery captain. I’ll let you know.
It’s been a long journey from completing the purchase to getting the boat ready for the trip home, but Chuck and the rest of the crew have hung in there with me, ready to go when the boat is ready. We’re going to start the journey soon, and then we’ll find out how ready the boat and we all are to make the trip. Wish us well.
Greg, the proud new owner.
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