It was stressful, but we made it out of the marina!

Today we moved out of the marina and into an anchorage so we could stop hemorrhaging money for a dock slip. Initially we had been told that we might be able to haul out on Wednesday (today), but the strong winds have put the kibosh on that so the earliest haul out would be next week. At $138.80/night, we had no intention of staying in the marina past this morning. Ten days was bad enough.

Jeff and I were both really stressed about moving the boat out of the slip. The engine can truly seize at any moment. It could last a month, a week, a day, an hour, a minute. The last thing we wanted was to have it seize while we were maneuvering through the marina and collide with another boat.

It’s windy today, but the wind was blowing on our bow and we were the first slip in from the t-head with the fuel dock behind us. All we had to do was wait for slack, wait for an empty space at the fuel dock, and back her out. From there it was a few hundred yards to the breakwater and we’d be home free.

We filled up our external dinghy fuel tank with three gallons, waited for slack, took a deep breath, and went for it. I can’t begin to describe how relieved we both were once we were clear of the marina, and we heavily praised Big Red for hanging in there!

Now we’re at anchor for free. It’s far from the best anchorage we’ve ever been in as far as protection is concerned, but when the dockmaster heard we were planning to anchor by the USS Yorktown, he strongly advised against it. With these winds, he said a few people always drag when the current changes, and that’s the last thing we need. So we sacrificed some physical comfort for mental comfort instead.

So what’s next? Now that we’ve left the slip, it feels like everything is falling into place and we are in a REALLY good headspace. We’ve decided not to get the work done by Zimmerman here in Charleston. The lack of communication has been unimpressive, and we haven’t been able to find any reviews on the quality of their engine work with a job like this.

We have received several recommendations for WW Williams out of Thunderbolt/Savannah. All they do is diesel work – 18 wheelers, pleasure boats, commercial boats (they take care of the pilot boats that bring the cargo ships into Savannah), etc. They are FAR from cheap. Far. From. Cheap. In fact, the estimate made us both blanch when we saw the hourly rate (which includes travel time to the marina).

However, they clearly know what they are doing and their communication has been outstanding. We called them on Monday morning and had an estimate at 6:00 a.m. this morning (Wednesday). Zimmerman knew by noon on Friday that we needed this work done, and we still haven’t received any information from them besides a call saying we can’t haul out until next week at the earliest.

A few other things in WW Williams favor: they will do the job from start to finish, so the amount of time we’re waiting will be minimized. The only exception to that is if a pilot boat has a problem in which case it’s all hands on deck because it affects a container ship, but we’ve been told that’s rare. They will also do it in the water, so we don’t have to pay for a haul out and land storage. And they can get started within a few days of our arrival.

Besides WW Williams, we called Hinkley in Thunderbolt to cover our bases. Their hourly labor rate was 1/3 less than WW Williams, but we had to haul out of the water and it would take 4-5 weeks to get the job done (they don’t do the work start to finish). We had also read mixed reviews about their work which made us pretty nervous. After lightly investigating a few other mechanics and places, WW Williams it is!

Now what? We were going to wait for a weather window to go outside, but the wind is howling for days with MAYBE a small window this weekend, and then more howling. The wind is bad (for us) for going outside, but absolutely perfect for continuing to sail inside – both in strength and wind direction. The only tricky part will be Elliott Cut – a .2 mile stretch where the current can rip and the wind is blocked by houses on a high bank.

After getting some advice from our friends on Lone Star, we have decided to put the dinghy together tomorrow morning and side-tie it to Pegu Club. We’re going to hit Elliott Cut at slack tide and simply use the dinghy engine to motor us through the Wappoo Bridge and Elliot Cut. Then it’s back to sailing on the inside. The first daylight opening at the Wappoo Bridge is at 9:30 tomorrow, which is right around slack. It’s perfect timing.

Next week is Thanksgiving, so we aren’t planning to get to Thunderbolt until after that. We have plenty of time, and honestly, we enjoyed our fancy sailing from Georgetown. Might as well keep it going! Looks like we’ll be getting our tomato pie in Beaufort after all!

Making lemonade out of lemons.

Yesterday (Friday) was another highly successful day of sailing down the ICW, from Graham Creek to Dewees Creek. In fact, we didn’t need a tow from Infinity at all!

It was warmer than the day before, and although the wind started out light, it picked up enough to give us a steady downwind push to allow us to sail for a quick 15 nautical miles. Once again, almost every boater was very kind by giving us a slow pass, and a few people complimented us on going for it and wished us luck.

We weren’t the only boat having mechanical problems! The trawler was getting a hip-tow, passing us in the early afternoon.

We are very fortunate in several ways, only a few of which are: the geographic location where the engine problem occurred; our familiarity with the ICW along with what we’ve learned over the past five years of cruising on it; and the forecast.

If this had happened on the Waccamaw River, for example, there would have been too many trees to give us enough wind, regardless of how hard it was blowing. Or it could have happened on the Alligator River where we were VERY far from any repair facilities.

Had this been our first year, we wouldn’t have known what areas had the potential for sailing, and what didn’t. Instead, we knew exactly what the next 40 miles or so would bring. A mostly straight waterway with a few areas with trees (but occasional gaps in those trees to allow for puffs of wind to come through), and then a very long stretch with nothing but marsh where the wind could blow uninterrupted. We also knew to leave at almost high tide to give us more wiggle room to use the entire width of the river without worrying about running aground. Perhaps most importantly, we had the confidence to know we could do this.

Finally, the weather. The location and what we’ve learned wouldn’t have helped us at all if the wind had been on the nose, or calm like it had been the few days before it happened. Instead a timely front pushed through with accompanying northerly wind that blew strong enough to move us downwind. That was 100% luck.

Wing and wing down the ICW.

So put all of the above together, and the result is that we didn’t have to rely on Infinity to tow us the whole way, although he repeatedly said he’d be happy to. But it was great knowing he was behind us as our “support boat” if needed!

We also didn’t have to pay for an obscenely expensive tow from Georgetown. We were able to take advantage of our knowledge and the weather to get close enough to Charleston where it’s a slightly-less-than obscenely expensive tow. Wait! Don’t we have unlimited towing? Why yes. Yes, we do. But we have learned that unlimited is not defined the way it used to be. But that’s a subject for another post.

Instead, we enjoyed a truly unique experience of peacefully sailing between Georgetown and almost Charleston over the past few days. We heard birds singing, pelicans splashing, and dolphins puffing through their blowholes. All things that are usually drowned out by the engine. And we really felt like we accomplished something too.

So my goal is to hang onto those good feelings as we anxiously await the mechanic’s diagnosis. He’ll be at the marina on Monday. Hopefully we’ll know what’s going on shortly after his arrival. Fingers crossed.

“Fancy sailing.”

It was a chilly, but sunny, sail down the ICW yesterday, covering just over 20 nautical miles. The wind was basically cooperative with a downwind sail, although the shifts through the trees kept Jeff busy moving the sails back and forth.

We were able to spend a substantial amount of time sailing wing and wing, and the motor vessels that passed us were VERY considerate, giving us slow passes as Infinity explained the situation on the VHF (which is not always the case.)

Jeff and I call sailing in rivers and creeks, “fancy sailing.” It’s not something we can do often, but it’s a lot of fun when it works out.

We had to call it a day about 20 minutes away from our anchorage when the wind died and the current was against us. Infinity had been patiently staying behind us for the duration so he motored up, we threw him a line, and he towed us the rest of the way.

Honestly, we were a little bummed because we were hoping to make it the whole way, but all in all it was a successful sail and a fun day. Dropping the anchor in one of our favorite anchorages (Graham Creek) was a nice reward for the day.

We had Infinity over for a dinner that was appropriate for the chill: warm tomato soup and Mexican grilled cheese sandwiches (otherwise known as quesadillas – we only have tortillas on board, not bread.). A good night sleep followed, and now we’re ready to keep sailing to our next anchorage. The adventure continues!

Infinity anchored at Graham Creek.

A weather lay day.

Yesterday (Wednesday) was a lay day due to the strong winds. We stayed well-protected in the anchorage, I made brownies, and we had a marathon session of Mexican Train Dominoes with Infinity going from double twelves down to double blanks. Infinity won.

It was our coldest day and night of the trip with a high only in the mid-50’s and a low of 39, so we took advantage of our Honda generator and our portable heater to warm up the boat.

We were hoping to run the heater all evening (it’s only us and Infinity in the anchorage), but the exhaust from the generator was getting trapped somewhat by the weather cloths surrounding our cockpit. The wind was on our beam (the current overpowers the wind around here so your bow points into it instead of the wind), but the exhaust wasn’t getting carried away as much as we had thought it would. Next time we’ll open up the dodger window to aid in circulation and shut the generator off right before we go to bed.

Regardless, when we went to bed the boat was warmer than it would have been, and it was a snug night tucked in amongst all of our blankets and sleeping bags.

Today we’ll shove off around 11:00 to continue sailing down the ICW. We’ll have the current with us for most of the afternoon, so if Infinity has to tow us we should barely make a difference. Hopefully we’ll end up in Graham Creek tonight, which is one of our favorites.

Heading north – part 2. Plugging away at it.

As I mentioned in my previous post, by now it was May 15th, we needed to get up to Connecticut, and we were only as far as Beaufort, SC. But with some cooperative weather we figured we could scoot up to Norfolk and jump outside to at least Cape May (if not all the way to Groton) and be there in about three weeks. Well, you know what they say about cruisers’ plans written in sand at low tide.

Weather kept us in Beaufort for four days. Not a bad thing in and of itself – regular readers know how much we love Beaufort. We hit all of our regular haunts, ate our tomato pie, and attended a nice gathering of current and former cruisers at the home of cruisers who had settled down there upon swallowing the anchor.

It’s not a visit to Beaufort without tomato pie!

From Beaufort we had hoped to jump from Charleston to Cape Fear in a single overnight, but north winds thwarted those plans. Thankfully we still had the ICW as an option, so we put the hammer down and made it to just south of Southport, NC in 3 1/2 travel days. And then we got stuck. Strong north winds of 20-30+ knots kept us at St. James Marina for a week. We needed to go north, going outside wasn’t an option, and inside was also closed to us with very strong wind against the current on the Cape Fear River.

After a week we had a one day break in the weather so we dashed up to Carolina Beach, then had to wait for two more days. We knew from prior experience that the next bridge wouldn’t open in those winds.

All was not lost, however. We were finally at Carolina Beach when Britt’s Donuts were open (they are only open seasonally, and boy, were they worth the wait!). We also found some excellent pizza on the boardwalk, and it was a bright sunshiny day so Jeff did some metal detecting while I read my Kindle on the beach.

Our friends on Twin Sisters have raved about these donuts, and OMG! They were fantastic!
Jeff loves metal detecting on the beach.
You can buy Italian ice right on the beach – such a great idea! And yes, I did!

After we left Carolina Beach, we picked our way up the ICW taking advantage of every weather window we could grab. It was basically travel for one day, wait for two. Travel for two days, wait for one. As we fought the weather, our frustration level started rising.

A typical example was when we were riding out a blow just south of the Alligator-Pungo Canal. The anchorage was well-protected even though a cold wind of 25 knots was blowing from the northeast. We had planned to wait out the day warm in our cabin vs. motoring into the cold wind since we had a two-day window beginning the next day for crossing the Albemarle Sound.

Our scenic anchorage just north of Belhaven.

Checking the weather in mid-afternoon, we saw that the Albemarle Sound window had shut, and now our only chance for at least a week was the next day. Gritting our teeth, we raised the anchor and had a cold ride up the canal, anchoring just before sunset so we could cross the Albemarle the next day.

At least the Albemarle was behind us. But now the forecast was showing nothing but north winds for the next week. Crew morale was starting to dip.

What a FANTASTIC sail!

We have traveled between the Abacos and Eleuthera many times now (we skipped the return trip during Covid because we went straight from the Exumas to Florida). Invariably it turns into a motor fest. Either there are days of too much wind so we grab the first non-windy day we get, or there is nice wind but it’s a tad too on the nose to sail, or it’s behind us and it isn’t strong enough for us to cover the 50 miles before it gets dark.

With our Pelagic autopilot on the fritz, I was NOT looking forward to hand-steering this time. The forecast showed, once again, too much wind on Friday and not enough wind on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, before going back to too much wind. So as of late afternoon on Thursday, we had resigned ourselves to motoring on Saturday.

But wait! Now the forecast was looking much better for Friday! 10-12 knots, gusts to 17 knots, just behind the beam, seas of 3-4 feet. That sounded great, and all of the forecast models agreed. So with a quick change of plans, we were heading out on Friday to hopefully sail across for the first time.

Not so fast. We motored from Spanish Wells to past Egg Island, and we were only seeing around 5 knots of wind. What the hell?? We’re supposed to have wind! But another 45 minutes later the wind freshened. And freshened. And freshened some more.

Our 10-12 knots just behind the beam ended up being primarily 15-18 knots at 60 degrees off the nose. The 3–4 feet of seas ended up being 4-6 feet plus. This was definitely a sporty sail in our book! But Bob the Monitor windvane was helming like a champ. All we had to do was sit back and hang on.

With the benefit of a slight current in our favor, Pegu Club was flying at over 6 knots most of the day. We even passed a catamaran that was sailing. It is unheard of for us to pass a larger sailboat. Granted, catamarans don’t sail well at that angle, but I’ll still count it as a win.

After we passed the catamaran we had a humorous/bizarre moment with them. We were at least 300 feet away when we passed them, and when I looked back they had moved over to our other side and were gesticulating at us.

We hopped on the radio and the woman complained that we were too close when we passed them (again, it was at least 300 feet.) Because we were so far away, I was completely perplexed and blurted out the first thing that came into my head, “We’re from New England.” I’m sure that statement made no sense to her, but in my mind I was thinking, “Lady, that was nothing. You should see how close people pass in southern New England.” She responded with, “Stay 100 yards away!” Ohhhh-kay. Later we were laughing about it with our friends on Minx, and Tanya said, “Tell me you’re new to boating without saying you’re new to boating.” Exactly!

Anyway, back to our sail. A few waves hit Pegu broadside, spraying us with salt water where the weather cloths ended, but as Jeff is fond of saying, “It’s a water sport.” We were so grateful that our friends on SV Lone Star had suggested that we make weather cloths before we left this fall! We would have been SUBSTANTIALLY wetter without them, and we’re going to extend them a bit more this summer.

As we approached Little Harbor cut, the thought crossed my mind that I wanted to sail through the cut. The wind angle was right and we had enough wind, but I knew Jeff wouldn’t go for it so I didn’t mention it. We started the engine, and after 30 seconds it cut out. We started it again. Same thing. Looks like we were going to sail through after all! I did admit to Jeff later that a little part of me thought, “Yay!” when the engine stalled. It’s amazing how much more confidence I have vs. when we cut the dock lines in 2018.

We called the catamaran that we had passed earlier on the VHF to let them know we had to sail in, and they said they’d give us plenty of space (at least 100 yards, I’m sure. 🙄) We sailed in without any issues, tacked our way to the anchorage with everyone who had heard us on the VHF watching the show, and dropped the anchor under sail for the second time in our lives.

What a tremendous day!! It was the best 50+ nm sail we’d had in a VERY long time.

As for the engine? It was no big deal. We foolishly hadn’t topped off our fuel tank before we left that morning. Even though we had about 1/2 a tank, the fuel-pickup is on the high side and we were heeling enough that Big Red was sucking in air. After we anchored we added another jerry jug of diesel to the tank, and the engine started just like it was supposed to. Lesson learned.

And just like that, we were back in the Abacos.

“This don’t look like the Coachella Valley to me.”

We ended up staying a week in Mattituck. For awhile we joked that we were going to be spending Thanksgiving there. We were extremely well-protected as several fronts rolled through, and we waited patiently. We read posts from cruising friends who were motoring steadily down Long Island Sound, bashing their way down the New Jersey coast, then bashing some more up the Delaware Bay. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. We weren’t going to do that if we could help it. If that meant sitting around for awhile, then so be it.

While we were in Mattituck we poked around in the Italian market that we had enjoyed last time, we went grocery shopping at the bigger market, and had some of the best damn BBQ we have ever tasted, including in the south, at Meat’s Meat which was new to us. The only downside of staying there was when we woke up one morning to discover that the boat had been thoroughly strafed by the damn cormorants. That sucked, and took quite awhile to clean up.

A beautiful Mattituck sunset.
I loved the name of this local bar.
SO GOOD! Ten out of ten.
Pegu Club hanging out in the anchorage.

Finally our patience was rewarded and it was time to leave.  It was going to be a tack-fest with wind on the nose for the first two days to Port Jefferson and Northport, but the third day would be an excellent beam reach to Port Washington where we would be well protected for the next lengthy weather system.

The predicted wind the first two days ended up being on the higher end of the forecast, so much so that we decided from now on we would take the highest forecasted gusts and assume that’s what we would see for the steady strength.  But it was three wonderful, boisterous days of sailing.  

Pegu Club was a very salty girl after our sail from Mattituck to Port Jefferson.

We were actually surprised at how comfortable we were with the conditions.  I thought that taking the winter off would make us a bit more tentative, but it seems to have had the opposite effect.  We tacked back and forth through winds in the upper teens and low twenties the first two days, and we learned quite a bit about the best sail trim for Pegu in those conditions.  

On the third day we had the forecasted beam reach to Port Washington, but first we had to blast our way out of Huntington Harbor with a steady 24 knots on the nose.  Once again, we were shocked at how we handled it.  In the past, we absolutely would have turned around.  Instead we knew that if we could just suck it up for 15 minutes or so, we’d be banging a left and flying down the sound on a beam reach.  And we were.    

A blustery beam reach to Port Washington.

In fact, we were so thrilled with how great the sailing was that we made our way into the wrong harbor!  As we were sailing along, we started saying “Hmmm.  Wait a minute.  This doesn’t look like Port Washington.”  Or as Bugs Bunny said, “This don’t look like the Coachella Valley to me.”  That’s because it wasn’t.  We were one harbor too soon.  Our punishment was fifteen minutes hard on the wind, blowing 20 knots, before turning off onto a beam reach again.  Ah well.  Lesson learned.  Always put a route in the chart plotter, even if we think we know where we’re going!

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Oops – wrong harbor!

Once we were actually in Port Washington, we took one of the transient yellow moorings and settled down for what we knew would be an extended stay while we waited for decent weather.  It was fine with us, though.  Out of all of the places we’ve been to on Long Island Sound, Port Washington is our number one choice for a lengthy stay.

Will we ever make it to Norfolk, let alone Connecticut?

Of our three cruising seasons, this is the earliest in the calendar that we have headed north, so it shouldn’t be surprising that it’s been the most challenging as far as weather is concerned.  Winter and spring are still battling it out, so the trip has been filled with starts and stops.  Chris Parker has been saying in his emails that this pattern has been more reminiscent of early spring than of May.  Great.

We are currently in Belhaven, NC and have yet to be able to travel for more than three days in a row before having to stop for weather.  And believe me, some of those days have been less than comfortable.  We had a particularly rolly, rollicking ride north on the Neuse River with the wind blowing 20+ knots – fortunately behind us.  It wasn’t unexpected, but that doesn’t make it any fun.

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Pegu Club going by Fernandina Beach, taken by our cruising friends on S/V Barry Duckworth.

We had hoped to hop outside when the opportunity presented itself, but so far those times have been so infrequent that it has made more sense just to keep moving north on the ICW vs. sitting and waiting for a window to maybe open up.  At times my frustration level has been high, to put it mildly.  I am SO OVER the ICW. Continue reading “Will we ever make it to Norfolk, let alone Connecticut?”

A series of poor decisions.

I think it’s almost inevitable.  If you do anything long enough, you start to get a bit complacent.  The only problem with doing that on a boat is Mother Nature will give you a smack in the face to bring you back to your senses.  Fortunately the repeated smacks we experienced over a a few weeks didn’t do any damage except to our psyche.

Leaving Red Shanks turned out to be the first of a series of poor decisions for Pegu Club’s crew.  After a rolly motor sail to Lee Stocking, we enjoyed a great day anchored in front of “our” beach, doing some snorkeling and swimming.  The water was already warmer than it had been just a few weeks ago which was a welcome development – it will only get warmer as the days go by!

Looking at the weather forecast, the wind was going to clock more to the south-southeast which meant that the anchorage in Lee Stocking would be fairly exposed.  We decided we would ride it out the next day – our first poor decision.  The winds ended up being substantially higher than forecast so that by mid-morning it was honking in the steady low 20’s with higher gusts, bringing 3+ foot waves onto a lee shore.  For non-sailors, that means the wind was blowing towards the land – not good.  We raised the anchor and motored over to Rat Cay – a much better decision.

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A pretty sunset off of Rat Cay.

The next day we took a look at the tide tables and the weather and decided we should move north in anticipation of a front that would be arriving in several days.  It was a long day but a very nice sail, and we ended up back in Pipe Cay where we anchored in our up-to-that-point favorite spot in Pipe where we planned to wait out the front.  Our second poor decision.  We dropped the anchor slightly west of where we had during our previous visits – something that we would find out later was our third poor decision. Continue reading “A series of poor decisions.”

The Chesapeake Giveth, and the Chesapeake Taketh Away.

This will sound like sacrilege to some, but I’ve decided that New England is far superior for sailing compared to the Chesapeake.  And that’s saying something given that we have only sailed in southern New England.  We haven’t even gotten to Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket, Buzzards Bay, or Maine which is renowned for incredible cruising grounds.

But the Chesapeake?  Meh.  Yes, there are plenty of anchorages.  But they are generally up rivers so it can be a pretty fair distance off of the Bay.  You don’t have to go five or ten miles up a river to get to great anchorages in New England. 

You can’t swim in the summer in the Chesapeake because of the plethora of jellyfish unless you head up to the far northern part of the Bay where the water is more fresh than salt, and the visibility in the water is lousy.  The water in southern New England is too chilly for swimming until late June/early July but the clarity is significantly better, and while there can be jellyfish, there are about a tenth as many as we saw this summer. Continue reading “The Chesapeake Giveth, and the Chesapeake Taketh Away.”