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
Oh man, no parade?
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