Choptank Chomp and Romp

About a month ago I got an invitation to go sailing. I said, “Yes”. Had I known the conditions would be cold, wet and blowing, I may have reconsidered. I’m glad I had only suspicions as the time. Romping along the Eastern Shore’s Choptank was a blast. We sailed on my buddy Kevin’s Catalina Capri 22 “Big T”, a nice design and good sail-er. We met up meet up with Phil, Doug and his Cornish Shrimper “Tidings”. The sheltered harbor had pleasure and work boats that caught our eye. The mix provides the town with a nice feel.

the schooner “Adventure”
Adventure again
Skipjack
Harbor mural

Outside the breakwater entrance, winds were a steady 20-24 mph with gusts near 30. The sail was lively.  Anxioous to see how Big T sailed, I hogged the tiller all the way into the Tred Avon where Tidings tried to overtake us under full motor, but alas Big T turned her head and rolled on ahead and turned the corner past Oxford’s Strand to visit Cutts and Case Boatyard up the creek there. One of the Cutts brothers, Ronnie, loaned us his truck to shop for track slides that had blown out earlier in the day. We took our time studying the many beautiful old wooden boats there.

A Ralph Wiley design
the piers
Fine catboat with inboard rudder

Heading back out the creek, we passed the motorboat Tidings again and sailed up the Tred Avon to Easton. Big T reached along.

motorboat “Tidings”
workboat at speed

We rafted up for a good dinner by Chef Doug. An after dinner snoot warmed us enough to shove off and anchor for the night. It was still blowing good. The next morning we found ourselves aground 100-150 yards downwind. Motoring failed to release the bottom, so we raised sail, hung from the shrouds and with a buff had enough healing moment to slip away. Breakfast was back rafted. Hot coffee was welcomed. A decision was to sail over to the Little Choptank. That was the last we saw of Doug, ship and crew.

Over canvassed with the only reef in the main and a small jib we bashed into the Choptank. Soon we dropped the jib to carry on. With those 30 mph blows, we still had too much sail.

Choptank bashing

After a couple hours of wet and wild, we cracked off to head into San Domingo Creek. Since we never saw Doug and Phil venture out, we figured they had abandoned the plan early. Later Kevin was phoned that the journey had been made. We’ve yet to be given proof. It was a subject that kept Kevin awake throughout the night. I half thought he was ready to raise sail and go verify.

Back of St. Michaels
Workboats there
Good scenes

We touched bottom a couple times before settling on an anchorage. The sunset was quick and the cold dropped on us. I can’t recall what we had for dinner other than pumpkin pie. We retreated to sleeping bags and were likely out by 20:00. We did awake around midnight to have another taste of pie and yacked for maybe an hour. The likelihood of Doug and Phil getting to the Little Choptank without our noticing was of course revisited. Two deserts in one night is a good deal and aided in crashing until sunrise.

Early morn

Hot coffee and biscuits the next morning started us off as we had a wonderful early morning beat back down the creek into the Choptank and rolled home on a reach.

Cap’n Kevin

It was some exhilarating sailing, some fun conversations, and good pie! A great few days. Thanks Kevin!

Spartina’s Cameo

 

Born and raised in Norfolk, VA, I watched a recent video of the town’s recent  “reinvention” with much interest. One fellow in the film comments that the town has been burned to the ground twice. It is its military and transportation significance that has drawn such attention. Norfolk’s Naval Base and Air Station is reputed to be the world’s largest. The first burning was led by Loyalist Governor Lord Dunmore who, with his three ships, shelled the city, destroying 800 buildings (or 2/3’s of the city). The Patriots then burned the balance of their town (that’s commitment), leaving only the walls of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church standing. A cannonball remains today in one of the church walls. That razing was on New Years of 1776. In 1804 a second destruction resulted from fire breaking out along the waterfront. Some 300 buildings were lost then. One could argue that a third destruction has been ongoing since then as Norfolk is landlocked by the Elizabeth River, Hampton Roads and the Chesapeake Bay. Recent history has forced choosing between what to keep and what to let go. The town is confined to a footprint that cannot expand. However, neighbors Portsmouth and Chesapeake may raise objections to that statement as all three push to grow and prosper in the region.

This black and white film drew nostalgia for my hometown and though I’ve lived away from Norfolk for too many years, I still consider her home. As I viewed familiar sights and heard names with nostalgia, the sails of a small yawl briefly slid across the screen. I immediately recognized them belonging to Steve Early’s “Spartina” and forwarded the video to him for viewing. He posted it with more comments in his blog. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Spartina graces the Elizabeth River.

A Thankful Sail

For the two days before Thanksgiving, my daughter and I took what may be the last overnight in Luna as the season is closing. We had intended to start Monday, but weather (freezing temps) and schedules weren’t encouraging.

To make the “log” short, we left the slip under sail on a gentle WSW breeze, slipped down River, crossed Mobjack, and nosed into Browns Bay. Our dinghy Gigi was in tow.

crossing Mobjack

Lunch was a good ale and turkey wraps prepped by “Matey”.

ale
galley work
wrap

The late Fall sun was low and brilliant, coloring the marsh grasses and evergreen pines. Once in Browns Bay, distracted by the view, we nudged Luna onto a mud bank as the ebb tide was 30 minutes from low. Two sailors on the bow and a winding outboard weren’t sufficient to push the long keel towards deeper water. Pulling out the 16# claw, I rowed out 75 yards to set the anchor.

off to kedge an anchor *
laying the rode *
return trip *

Back at the boat, a firm tug on the rode set us free. Shortening the line, we decided to anchor for the evening. We had a good evening listening to music and watching the sun set.

Gigi

 

patina
I thought leaving the mizzen would allow Luna to follow Gigi, but the wind dropped to nothing and the dinghy began kissing the bigger boat. Therefore, we arrested the dink against the starboard side where it stayed quietly for the night.
dinghy, be still.
The evening was fine. Dinner with the new galley cabinets worked well. Sleep came around 8:00, way too early, but he freezing temps drive one to the warmth of the sleeping bags.
rising moon
Matey
jet trails
silhouette *
a hat in the making *
The next morning after some hot oatmeal and coffee, we motor back across the still bay to check out Pepper Creek. Loons, scoters and coot make their appearance as we slide along.
outside Pepper Creek
Once in the creek we are greeted by a setter on a pier. Somewhat confused by our encouraging voices, he barks out warning while wagging his tail. As we turn around in front of him we stick bottom. Should have listened to Rover. This time the dinghy pulls Luna off by the tail.
Pepper Creek entrance
guard dog *
no wind *

The breeze freshens once we leave the creek. We raise all sails and pass a boat “drudging” for oysters as we begin the beat up into the East River home.

“drudging” and cat napping
Here’s a short take on the smooth reach home.

Happy Thanksgiving!

* photos by A Girl Named Leney.

Jamestown’s "Bed and Breakfast"

If you hadn’t gathered, we typically sleep either in the bottom of our boats, or in a tent, and are forever rolling over because the sleeping bag has you notted up once again. Therefore, it can be quite disorienting to sail all day, enjoy cocktails, have a marvelous meal prepared for you and find yourself waking up in a queen sized bed. However, it was so for the inaugural cruise of The Old Bay Club. We’re basically a confederation of not so daring sailors who love their comforts and detest rules. Why Harris and Barbara were so gracious to open up their beautiful home to this motley crew, I’ll never know. For 2 1/2 days we were allowed to stay at their “bed and breakfast”. To come home rested after a great weekend of sailing was an unusual pleasure.

Our hosts and fellow club members: Barbara and Harris in their Caledonia Yawl Mabu.

From their place on the James River we 4 boats sailed downriver to see replicas of the three ships that began the settlement of the colony.

The original Susan ConstantGodspeed and Discovery set sail from London on December 20, 1606, bound for Virginia. The ships carried 105 passengers and 39 crew members on the four-month transatlantic voyage. A 17th-century source noted that a total of 71 people were aboard the Susan Constant, 52 aboard the Godspeed and 21 aboard the Discovery. The expedition was sponsored by the Virginia Company of London, a business venture that had been organized to form a colony in Virginia. The fleet reached the Virginia coast in late April and, after two weeks of inland waterway exploration, arrived at the selected settlement site on May 13, 1607.

Our voyage was not so world changing nor daring, but we did complete ours successfully. Winds were westerly for an off wind sail to and an easy 2-3 tacks home to weather. We practically hit the tidal current perfectly coming and going. Fall’s colors were near peak and the winds fairly gentle. Very nice.


UNA pushing the fleet.


skipper
1st mate

The sail downstream was maybe 1 1/2 hrs. We beached just upstream from the Jamestown ferry to stretch and have lunch.

Some of the gang.

Here’s an interesting contrast of boats and technologies. I wonder how the 3 ships stayed together as their sizes are so different.

 

The second day was spent drifting up the Chickahominy on the incoming tide. Now 5 boats, 4 of us even lost steerage at one point as Barry in his light Melonseed proceeded to sail away.
3 boats all headed for the same destination.

Winds never saw 5 mph, but the day was still a winner on such a beautiful river.

Barry before …

And Barry after. Way up ahead is Caesura’s red sail dead center in this pic.

We had a short lunch on a short beach among the cypress stumps. It was all other worldly.

 

 

 

 

The return faced the current and challenged the sailor. It demanded staying in the shallows and chasing stripes of wind on the water. The following day was grey with a drizzle. Some sailed. Some packed and went home. Great weekend. Thank you Barbara and Harris!

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Simple Afternoon

About two weeks ago, my daughter and I finally coordinated schedules to sail Luna together. She was there last spring to help survey and haul Luna home, but hadn’t seen her in the water, much less take a sail. Well, with a perfect 8-10 kt breeze, a camera and picnic lunch, we shoved off across Mobjack and into the Severn and back. Simple. Just right. I’ll let the photos tell the rest.

a bow
the tack
lazy afternoon

 

lazy skipper
raising the pennant

 

a girl
watching the bow wake
 
All photos but the last 2 are hers.  Lastly, a short video of mine.


 

B-17 "Nine O Nine"

Two weeks ago a B-17 Flying Fortress, B-24 Liberator and a P-51 Mustang visited Chesterfield County airport for the weekend. My youngest boy and I went out that Friday to tour the planes. He has been playing the video game War Thunder and recently had achieved a level that allowed him to fly a B-17. The look on his face as he climbed in and out of the real thing was priceless. He also was a walking encyclopedia of B-17 specs. We took loads of photos. The Nine-O-Nine was built at the end of the war in Europe, 1945. She flew 140 missions and was credited with shooting down 3 German planes.

Nose art and victories.

Regretfully, the B-24 was absent after a necessary landing in Stafford to attend to an engine problem. However, we found out that the aircraft were to depart that Monday morning, so we grabbed a thermos of hot chocolate and headed back to the airfield that morning. By luck a simple request got my son a tour of the late arriving B-24.

B-24

 

 

 

 

 

 

P-51
17, 24 and 51
We finished the morning on the observation deck waiting for some action. Patience paid off as we got to see and hear the B-17 start up, taxi and take off. What a memory. What a living piece of history.

A Stitch In Time … Saves The Varnish

I’m sure as UNA ages her owner will favor more paint over varnish, but for now, he can’t “let her go”. One area of constant wear on the finish has been between the tiller extension and gunwale. Though the extension has a pronounced “hump” to clear the gunwale and smooth edges, it has regularly sawed off the rail’s finish. Just over an hour’s worth of work and $7 of scrap leather hopefully fixes the problem. For oar leathers, diamond hole chisels were purchased. Reused here, a long 30″ strip of suede was punched to be sewn onto the tiller.

chisel and scrap demo.

The strip width is 1/8″ shy of wrapping around the tiller. This allows one to draw the leather tight around the stick. Once punched, the leather was soaked in warm water for 10 minutes. Then the strip was dabbed dry and stitched with a double strand of waxed twine onto the tiller. Initially the stitches were on top of the stick. I moved them to the side before the leather dried too much. Looks better I think.

tiller extension with leather
close up

This should solve that problem. Now on to solving the slick floors with some anti-skid.

Pamlico Pleasures

Katman and Little T met us in Oriental, NC ‘s public ramp next to the Route 55 bridge on Midyette Ave. About a dozen parked trailers indicates it is heavily used by fishermen in the area. This ramp is concrete and flanked by two nice floating piers. For the next three days, the winds are predicted to be out of the NE, shifting more easterly on the third day. Our goal, 40 miles away as the crow flies, was Ocracoke Island. That puts the wind on the nose outward bound. Around 10:30 we were rigged and under way.

The wind was crisp at 10 kts with gusts to 12-15. The NE direction was steady and only a few headers made tacking necessary with the inevitable Neuse River shoreline. It is a wide river with as much as a 5 mile girth in places. Once at the mouth, the wind dropped out. We anchored behind Swan Island on the north shore for the night. The evening gave a wonderful sunset while rafting and brilliant stars once we set tents for the night.

Una and Little T
At Swan Island
Katman (aka KMac)

At some point around midnight a motor boat roars into the anchorage which is protected by 1 foot shoaling at both ends of the island. I grabbed the flashlight, ready to point us out when the speeding boat was stopped as they dug up the bottom. Some choice country words were heard as the boat then slowly proceeded t the back of the small bay. They were out for the fish and could be heard having success as they came back rowing along the far shore. The mosquitoes were also out all night and only a towel over the head kept them at bay.

Morning was cool with winds strengthening. After coffee and rice cakes with peanut butter. We haul anchor, put in a reef, and head on out. Where the sound and river met was a confused sea state. It looked to be a rough and wet day. UNA did fine and gave no concern.  At one point a stacked wave 5-6′ in height caught us off beat and UNA pierced the top to bring on a few gallons of water over the bow. Once past Brant Island Shoal Light, the waves became uniform as we rolled over the 3-4′ waves. I risked the phone for a video once waves and wind slowed.
Other than a few shrimpers and the occasional ferry, we saw no other boats. Not able to fetch Ocracoke  we tacked above Cedar Island and again several other times negotiating the shoal waters along Portsmouth Island south of our destination. I don’t know if the waves had churned the waters to murky or if the cloudiness was typical, but even in 12″ of depth you couldn’t see the bottom. The centerboard took soundings. Winds abated as we sailed in the lee of Ocracoke and waves dissolved as we slipped in to survey Silver Lake. Once around the harbor and we tied up to the Community Pier  which has an old shack housing an interesting waterman’s museum. Across from the pier was tied a Skipjack.
Skipjack “Wilma Lee”

Named the Wilma Lee, she is over 70 years old, donated to Ocracoke Alive, Inc. ( a non-profit), and is for hire to sail. She happens to be one of only 32 skipjacks left afloat out of a fleet of once 800. More of her history can be read here.

I hose off the salt from UNA, put on dry clothes, and we head to Dajio’s for a good dinner. Back at the pier we enjoy chatting with several of the locals. Like most small towns, Ocracoke is also suffering in this dismal economy. However there remains a strong pride int he locals who are hard working and now that Labor day has passed, may feel that their island is theirs once again. I suspect our mode of travel is our passport of acceptance by them.
Eventually we cast off and sail downwind under mizzen to the SE corner of the harbor for the night. New snaps for the tent have replaced the difficult velcro webbing and rusty “stainless” loops under the gunnel. Setting up is now quicker and much improved. With bedroll over army blanket and armatures, sleep for night number two comes easy.
Next morning we’re up before sunrise. Kevin motors around the lake before we head to Pony Island Restaurant for a good breakfast.
Morning motoring
We see a green heron at the pier.
heron

After a final roll around the harbor, we head out under full sail. Winds are 10 kts from the east.

 

Little T forges across the shoals bumping along (and she needs 8″). UNA reaches more northerly to save her ruder in deeper water along the entry channel. They meet again a mile or so out and we run for hours across the Pamlico.
Marsh Cat and Cedar Island ferry.
The ride is a dramatic difference from the day before. No spray and we slip along on a gentle sea.
Once in the Neuse again, we go wing and wing with the main to weather. Thankfully the day has been overcast, keeping the sun off yesterday’s burn. Around 16:00 we pass the shrimp boats resting at the foot of Oriental.

 

We choose to anchor off Dewey Point near our beginning. Kevin notes we’ve sailed over 95 nautical miles. That is a record for UNA. Knowing that she can and in those conditions is reassuring.
We tour the harbor marinas in Little T. Few of the hundreds of sailboats seen are of interest. Its mostly miles of neglected plastic. The sunset is spectacular.
Oriental
UNA at anchor.
Back at anchor, a swim is refreshing. Dinner is good grilled chicken and rice. Night three is the most restful.
Morning is cool. A slight breeze beckons. Breakfast is coffee and pan made biscuits with butter. The sail to the ramp is short. We’re already planning for next time.