November 9 and 10 Overnight from Wrightsville Beach to Charleston 162 Miles

To plan arrival times from overnights so as to coordinate with tides, marinas being open and daylight, one has to assume a speed. Divide the distance in nautical miles by speed in knots and you get hours. Several questions in the Coast Guard Captains licence exam involve this fact and an assumed constant speed, which power boaters can more or less maintain. For overnight passages, we assume ILENE will make an average speed of 6.5 knots. We left at 9:30 am with a plan to arrive in mid morning the next day.

But sailboats have only moderate control over their speed, which is largely wind dependent. And it takes a minute or two of going the wrong way while putting up and lowering the mainsail, and relatively slower motoring speeds for the miles of the going out at the beginning and coming in at the end. And our course was lengthened when, due to the wind being directly behind us too slow, we took a wider turn around Frying Pan Shoals to avoid a dead run. That shoal extends quite a few miles out from the north side of the mouth of the Cape Fear River. Conversely, our course was shortened slightly when we cut the last buoy, R2, and passed near Rattlesnake Shoals off the entrance to Charleston. (That shoal is 16 feet below the surface so we could go directly over it, but why take even theoretical chances.) But the greatest variable is the wind. We had a few hours where the wind gave us less than four knots, and two hours in which we made a thrilling 8.5.

We had about three hours of very light rain in the late afternoon. One cant get rainbows without rain.

Some dolphins played with us at dusk.
Our dinner was a delicious and filling hot bowl of peppers, onions, sausages, pasta, red sauce and cheese that Lene had partially cooked before we left; we ate in the cockpit in the dark. Lene maintained the watch from 7 to midnight and I came on for the rest of the trip. It got cold during the wee hours but full foulies and gloves kept the chill out -- no pain. When Lene took over we were going only 3.5 knots on a very broad reach so I authorized the engine at 5 knots and we hauled the mainsail to midships to be a stabilizer. This was a mistake, in the sense that we wasted fuel and engine hours: sometime during Lenes watch the wind came back, and just aft of the starboard beam. So at midnight I eased the mainsheet out and we jumped to six knots. I shut down the engine and let out the genoa to play as well and our speed built to seven and eventually to variations over nine for several consecutive minutes. Eventually, we furled the genoa for the last three hours to delay our arrival. We had a beautiful sunset,

but the sunrise took place "off camera"  because heavy dark clouds blocked the eastern horizon during that event. The night time watches were quite boring due to the absence of even a single other boat out there to be seen, much less to worry about; we really had the ocean to ourselves.

The high speed portion was thrilling. ILENE seemed to be saying "I was born to go fast and Im having fun out here!" Comparatively little heeling, and not big waves, just an exuberant dash through the open seas, out of sight of land with enough light, after the moon came up, to be able to see a bit. "Thanks, Dad", she seemed to be telling me.

In my last post I worried about the auto pilot but it performed very well during this passage. We expect minor variations in our heading among strong forces out there and auto steered admirably, though noisily, with a soft squeaking/beeping sound that I need to investigate.

This bridge is just a bit upstream from us.

Im getting the spring lines in place for our arrival; end of the bridge, right.

Bottom line: we arrived in the Charleston Maritime Center at 10:30 am, 25.5 hours after we left, with an "average" speed of 6.35 knots over the assumed 162 nm.

Read More..

January 10 From South Belle Isle Anchorage to Anchorage off Dinner Key 9 4 miles

Not many miles today and not much wind at first. Only about half of the distance was in open water after the bridges and before the Dinner Key Channel entrance. In short, while we could have put up a sail, I did not.

We passed five behemoth cruise ships viewed from the Miami end of its Main Channel and some racing boats. Well to be accurate, the latter passed us -- at screaming high speeds. There were two regattas in Biscayne Bay. It is not deep but deep enough -- for a large part of its wide open area.

We went all the way in through the channel to the marina area, protected by a barrier island, south inside that island and then back part way out in John Brennan Channel, which is too shallow at its entrance for us, but wide enough beyond the marked sides of the channel to serve as the anchoring area. But most of that area is now filled with moorings. We looked for an anchoring spot. Our first two drops were south of this channel. The first of them put us too close to another boat; its master came on deck and looked worried. So up anchor and then down again, thirty yards away, no problem. But lets check the tides. We had 7.5 feet of water but oops, its high tide now and we will have only 5.5 feet six hours from now at low -- not enough. So the windlass got another workout and we went over to the north side and further out from shore and found a good spot in 8.5 feet and the anchor got set hard and firm with 50 feet of snubbed chain. By now it was afternoon and the wind was stronger. We had a date to meet another of Lenes
grade school chums, Janet, and her husband, Ed, who live in western Miami.

The dink ride was a longh one, .93 miles, and a rough one, with the waves -- and rougher on the way back in the dark. I got a bit wet from spray on the way in and Lene got even more of this on the way back.

By the way, here is our 10.5 feet long rented SUP lashed to the lifeline stanchions; too rough to try it today. And Lene does not have the official uniform for female SUPers yet: a bikini.
Ed and Janet drove us to the Fairchild Tropical Botanical Garden. This is a large well run place, temporarily enhanced by many large Chihuly blown glass sculptures which take special significance from comparison to the shapes of the fauna in which they are placed. Thus spiky glass amid cacti, a technicolor eucalyptus tree with a mammoth arrangement of many blown glass tubular shapes mounted on a spiky frame and glass lillies with the real thing:

We took a free 45 minute trolley ride narrated by our docent, a very knowledgeable retired botanist.

And then dinner at the Peacock Inn by Cocowalk.  A lovely day, but a roughly windblown night on anchor. After one more night out here we will be at the Coral Reef Yacht Club, which required an email from the Harlem YC Secretary to admit us. Thanks again Ellen,

Read More..

Header Photo Classic Moth Midwinters and Report from 2015

The previous header photo was of the 2011 Classic Moth Midwinters, held at Gulfport Y.C Florida, the last one I attended.

The 2015 Midwinters were held again at Gulfport Y.C, over the crossover February/March weekend. Ten Classics attended but unfortunately, this year, no-one from the Florida fleet raced. Saturdays racing was called off with the threat of thunderstorms but Sunday offered up warm temperatures and a pleasant racing breeze. Mark Saunders arrived with a makeover on his venerable Mistral; he added a "Linton rocking" rig and a new North sail to secure victory in Gen II class. The three Mistals finished at the top of the heap in Gen II with a Skol, a Duflos, and a modified, Lane Reeves Mistral following. In the Gen I class, long time class stalwart, George Albaugh in his Olympic Europe, finished comfortably ahead of three other Olympic Europe dinghies.

Much thanks to Amy Linton, who bore the brunt of the organizing this excellent regatta.

A mix of photos from Amy Linton and John Zseleczky.

One of the starts. #79 is Mike Parsons in his Mistral. #2721 is Frickie Martschink in his Skol, and #4067 is Lewis Hayes, hugging the RC boat.

Erik Albaugh in his Lane Reeves, mod-Mistral. Lane Reeves, when he bent up this Mistral, ended up with a finer bow and a flat transom.

Frickie Martschink - he of the post Lunch of Champions - had good speed in his Skol.

Winner of the Gen II class, Mark Saunders in his Mistral.

Famous designer, Charlie Morgan showed up to look at the fleet. It appears he cut his teeth on the Moth when he was a "youngin". Here is talking to Tom Price of the Chesapeake fleet. Charlies son is standing next to Charlie.

Two of the four Classic Moths from the Chesapeake fleet who attended. On the left is John Zs Mistral (he finished 2nd in Gen II) and on the right is Tom Prices Duflos.

Rod Koch, George Albaugh and Erik Albaugh debate one of the finer design points of the Lane Reeves mod-Mistral. George and Erik made up the other portion of the Chesapeake contingent.

Click here for other posts on the Classic Moth Midwinters.

Read More..

The Strongback Advice from John Bridges

The CABBS blueprint of the strongback.

We received our plans from CABBS and started thinking about the first step to build the prams. My brother is in the process of cleaning out his garage for this project, and I havent had a lot of time to go over the blueprints. It seems pretty clear that the first thing that needs to be done is the Strongback.

I contacted John Bridges who has been building Optimists since 1963.  I saw a post comment he made on the WoodenBoat Forum and traced that back to the work he has done with the Moraine Sailing Club. 

John (brown shirt) lifting a hull off the strongback.

"I first built Optimists in Trinidad back in 1963 using the plans as published in the Rudder magazine.  I think we just set up a pair of 2" x 6" timbers on the floor as a base to work from.  Since then I have built others in Chile, Colombia and Ghana.   Some where along the line I built the present strong back here in the USA  which has been used to build about a dozen Optis out of the 17 that I have helped MSC members to build. my strongback is on legs to raise the hull to a convenient height for working and avoid to much back bending. 

The first operation is to make the centre frame and two transoms.  These will have extended side pieces so that they align with the (straight and level) datum i.e. base of the strongback.   I have the cross bearer for the bow transom, bevelled so that the Bow transom can be screwed to this and it is important that the other two cross bearers are at the correct distance from the first one.

Strongback in use during one of Johns group building projects.

I usually use ring shank Phosphor bronze ring shank nails to hold the plywood in place on the chines whilst the glue sets. Epoxy is messy stuff so we are usually using PL2 Construction adhesive these days. For several years we have used Lauan Plywood (Interior use but with Exterior glue) and have found that this lasts for at least 6 years without problems providing it is kept painted and stored out of the sun and rain.   

1948 Optimist Plans

It can be covered with fiberglass cloth which adds to weight and durability.  The USA made Pine plywood does not weather well.  For more permanence Marine Plywood is available for about $95 per sheet (cf 20 for Lauan) It is all a matter of, as we say in England "You pays your money and takes your choice".  (Johns photos)

As we get started on this project we will be posting pictures and video of the Optimist project. We hope to create a good record of our mistakes as well as triumphs.

Read More..

November 20 and 21 Overnight from Hilton Head SC to Fernandina Beach FL 102 NM

Goodby Hilton Head.

The only tricky part of this passage was at the beginning. South is to the left on this chart:

The deep water is shown as white and shallower is blue. We came from Hilton Head (the knife point) through Calibogue Sound and then had to cross over through blue water to Tybee Roads, the entrance to the Savannah River (beside the fork). The Roads is well marked by red and green buoys (purple dots to you) on the passage to the sea, lower left. But not many buoys in that blue water and some three foot depths. The fact that the sands shift make the chart not that accurate and we went at low tide so this was the scary part but we never saw less than ten feet of water.
The annoying part was how totally wrong the weather forecast was. Lene has become a bit obsessed about checking many sources to get it right and they all said the wind was from the northwest, behind us, but only five to ten knots, so we expected to need the motor, reduced our planning speed, left at 11 am instead of three pm and planned to get to the breakwater of the St. Marys River just after daybreak the next day. But the wind was much stronger, 15 to 20 knots, and from 220 degrees, the very direction we had to go. We played with tacking for a few hours with main and small jib, making great time but not in the right direction, so the remaining distance to the entrance was not diminishing much and the time remaining to get there on these courses would get us there in the late afternoon of the next day. So we furled all sails and motored directly into the wind, with each wave reducing our speed when the bow slammed back into the water after being lifted by the oncoming seas. No heeling, no rolling, just pitching and slamming.

During my after-dinner off-watch, 7:30 to midnight, the seas laid down a bit, increasing our speed. When I relieved Lene, the winds had come far enough westerly, the predicted direction, that we could sail, close hauled. But I was not about to try to put up the main in the dark, alone. So shutting off the engine I only used the genoa and it gave us, at various times, as little as three knots and as much as six, which was enough. The long and the short of it is that we turned into the St. Marys River entrance and Cumberland Sound, about 15 minutes after daybreak. It was cold, no moon, lots of stars in the clear skies. Sunrise:

Our choices at the end were threefold: north to an anchorage behind Cumberland Island, west up the St. Marys River or south to Fernandina Beach on the back side of Amelia Island, whose paper plant runs day and night and lights up the area at night for miles.

We chose Fernandina because our friends Dean and Susan of Autumn Borne were here, but plan to visit the other two locations in the next week. We took a mooring, our first mooring since we left the Harlem on October 8, grabbing it at about 7:30 am. The next hour, before breakfast, was devoted to putting away all of the stuff needed for an overnight passage and lowering and pumping up the dinghy. We are in FLORIDA at last! But it is still cold.

Well what to do all day? Lene liked the idea of my going ashore and leaving her with the kitties. On our way through the entrance from the sea we passed Fort Clinch on the northern tip of Amelia Island. A good place to explore, but, I was to learn that it was a far piece. A little more than a mile eastward on Atlantic Avenue, which runs the width of Amelia Island to the Atlantic,and then, after entry to the State Park that contains the fort, three more miles north through beautiful woods with nature trails, camp sites, observation points, a fishing pier and bike trails. I hitched a ride after about half a mile, with a man who it turns out is a park employee.

The fort, like many, was built after the British had bombed our cities in the War of 1812, but unlike most of those in the northeast, it was the scene of historic events, though minor ones, in later wars. It has a commanding position at the mouth of the St. Marys River, through which we had sailed this morning.

It was not quite finished when the Civil War began and the Union Army scrambled to try to get it ready but it was taken by the confederacy, without a shot being fired and surrendered to the North by General Lee, who gave up all of Florida to concentrate his forces in more strategic areas elsewhere. Fearing attack by the Spanish, it was again prepared, somewhat, during the Spanish American War, but that was the type of war we have sought but not obtained ever since: a decisive victory and over in a few months. So Fort Clinch was again not ready in time, and also, the Spanish were in no position to attack. And it was a Coast Guard observation base in the World Wars. It became a State Park and the fort was restored somewhat by the Civilian Conservation Corps, during the depression.
You can see the larger bricks in the lower half of the construction before the Civil war, with the second story added later of smaller bricks.

What made the visit memorable was the performance of Henry Work, a talented artist, in costume as a non-combatant who showed us arms, the infirmary, the storehouse and played the fife. He is a volunteer and has also volunteered to do such a gig at the fort in the Dry Tortugas if the National Park Service accepts his generous offer. I hope they do.

I got to talking with fellow tourists, Norma and Pierre, a retired couple from Montreal who tour the US almost six months each year in their truck drawn trailer. Such nomads are a lot like us, driving land yachts, sharing camaraderie and information with fellow travelers but unlike sailors, they can see the interior of the nation too. They drove me to see their campsite ($25 per night, compared to our mooring at $20) and then back to the marina, where I dinked back to the boat after buying fish, per the Admirals orders.

Aboard were Dean and Susan who had brought a bottle of red. We spent a pleasant few hours together before each couple cooked its own dinner on its own boat.











.

Read More..