Pictures from the trip - Page 2

The boat in her slip at Belhaven, NC.  Notice the nearly vertical flags in the background, the strain on the line holding the boat in her slip, and the distance of the stern to the dock.  Backing the boat into this slip against the wind was a challenge, and Chuck pulled it off like a pro.

There are many more pics I could bore you with, but those I've posted are representative and tell the story.  Thanks again for your support throughout the trip, and I wish you a happy 4th of July!

Greg.

Pictures from the trip - Page 1

The crew:  Me, Todd, Chuck, and Scott.  Taken in Beaufort, NC, after completing the 3-day offshore portion.  I was bare footed.  Everyone else was wearing heels.

In our first lock from Chuck's perspective.  Note the lines hanging down from the walls on the right side.  The exit doors are opened slightly to equalize the water level.

Personal Flotation Device Familiarization.  While on the canals across Florida, Scott talked Todd and me through donning, arming, manually inflating, and then stowing our Type V PFDs which were brand new, still in the bag before we started.  We agreed that these would always be handy and would be worn at night and during periods of rough weather.

This shows the weather we experienced the first day while crossing Florida on the canals and Lake Okeechobee.  What weather?

After the breakdown in Indowntown, there was lots of time to waste:

A gator hanging out next to the boat at Indiantown Marina.

Todd with his niece and nephew, Sydney and Julian, at Indiantown Marina.

Tearing the pilothouse dash and overhead apart to complete the AIS installation.  Chuck was always at the ready with helpful suggestions.

With the steering fixed, we continued on our way:

Our first sunrise offshore on Wednesday, 24 June.

Chuck looking at the dolphins.  Unfortunately, it was very difficult to get pictures of them.  They visited often but didn't hang around long.  There were times they'd jump right in front of the boat, crossing the bow, but without a camera constantly ready, capturing photos of the action was impossible.

Here's the flag waving from the transom that I mention in an earlier post.

Chuck telling a sea story while the crew listens and the autopilot drives the boat.

I tried to capture the change in the seas after rounding Frying Pan Shoals, but the picture doesn't do it justice.  This picture doesn't show how deep the troughs are at 3 - 5 feet, but comparing this photo to the previous 4, it is easy to see that the character of the sea had changed significantly.

Scott and Chuck strolling the boardwalk in Beaufort, NC, recovering from the rough seas of the past 8 hours.

Near the end of the ICW as Chuck an I entered the Norfolk industrial complex.

Shortly after the above picture was taken, we rounded the corner into Portsmouth where several US Navy ships were docked for maintenance, including at least one aircraft carrier, possibly two.  I had my camera to my face, taking several photos, and I heard an admonition in the high distance, "Do not take pictures of US warships."  Lowering the camera, I looked up and saw a guard post on the aft end of one of the docked aircraft carriers from where the voice had come.  Once upon a time I was in the Navy and took many pictures of Navy warships while I was on active duty, so I didn't think twice about taking pictures this day until the voice from above informed me that I was doing something wrong.  Our lives have changed since 9-11, and that's sad, but I understand.

We were coincidentally (maybe?) shadowed by a Navy security patrol boat as we completed our transit through Portsmouth.  Chuck expected that they'd board us any minute and ask us for the memory card from my camera, but they never did.

The Norfolk cityscape.

Sunrise as we leave the marina harbor entrance on what would become the last day of the journey home.

The photos are no longer inserting where I want them to, so I'm going to start a new page.

We made it!

Chuck and I pulled out of Hampton at 0600 Tuesday morning and parked Branwen at her new home in Solomons, MD, at 1600.  We had an uneventful - thankfully - run up the Chesapeake with 2 to 4 foot seas and the wind from our stern.  We averaged a little better than 8 knots for the final leg.

Approaching the slip at Calvert Marina on Tuesday, June 30th

Again, there was no parade, no crowd to share the celebration, no band to meet us, but it didn't matter.  Chuck and I had been quietly celebrating since entering familiar waters north of the Potomac, and there were folks waiting for us at the slip as we pulled in.  My wife, Mary, and her brother, who just happened to be in town for a meeting, were there, and someone Chuck and I work with came to see us pull in and to give Chuck a ride home.  That saved Mary and me a short trip in the wrong direction, and I appreciated it very much.

Tied up in her new home at Calvert Marina, MD.

But we couldn't just jump off the boat into our cars and head home like we all wanted to, because after such a long trip there was a lot to do to put the boat away in the slip the first time.  Chuck and I had to pack our personal gear, but I also had to get the laundry and perishable food off the boat.  Mary brought coolers with ice and helped empty the frig and freezer while Chuck and I packed and secured the boat in the slip.

It didn't take that long to get everything packed up, loaded in the car, and then on our way home.  After getting home and unpacking, I relaxed, putting the boat completely out of my mind for a short while, even though I could still feel the earth rocking beneath me as though I was still on the boat.  I got a great night's sleep that wasn't interrupted by the constant barrage of thoughts about what I had to do next to keep the boat and the crew going or what might go wrong next that I should prepare for.

Thoroughly rested, I woke up in the morning with a mental list of chores I needed to do: go back to the boat to collect some personal items I'd forgotten, set some switches appropriately for being in the slip that I'd neglected to check, order supplies for periodic maintenance that had to be done, review lessons learned and determine what needed to be repaired, replaced, or eliminated, make sure she was still where we left her, etc., etc., . . .

It's all part of the joy of being a boat owner.  From The Wind In The Willows by Kenneth Grahame:

"Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing — absolutely nothing — half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing... about in boats — or with boats. In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you've done it there's always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better not."

Over the next few days I'll go through the photos from the trip that I wasn't able to post while we were on the boat and weave them together into a post that describes highlights I'd either forgotten about or skipped because a picture was needed.  Check back this weekend, and I'll have it done.

And that'll be it.  The delivery is done, so there won't be any more to say about it.  I'll continue to chronicle Branwen's adventures in my own blog, but I doubt that'll be interesting to most who followed the delivery crew.  Thanks for checking in along the way, caring about us, and pulling for a successful conclusion.  We appreciated your support.

Greg.