On By eebe4
A couple years ago I watched UNA’s foremast roll off the boat and land heel first on the concrete garage floor. There was a, “Crack”. Never good. Initial examination revealed nothing. I secured the pole back on the trailer. Not long thereafter when putting the boat away, I heard a rattle when I set the mast down before setting, I hear a rattle. This time I discovered a 18″ split between 2 of the staves where the mast was solid. At the time I decided to monitor it and ordered a fiberglass sock to repair the damage, but didn’t.
Many sails later, I found myself holding onto UNA with two-reefs and needing a third. We were bashing against wind, current and seas to gain shelter in Pulpit Harbor on Deer Island. That split was front and center in my thoughts. Thankfully UNA came through, but I had haunting doubts next time. I needed to fix the mast.
Once home, it was obvious the crack had lengthened. Another problem was the mast would swell and stick in the step on occasion demanding wrestling and wiggling to unstep. Putting a plastic bag on the foot had solved that hassle for too long. So, I hand planed the heel and sanded the problem section with the ROS and 80 grit to 16″ above the deck. The stick was then saturated the wood with straight epoxy and 2 layers of the fiberglass sock were snugged on. Epoxy splashed everywhere. The 90 degree heat rapidly accelerated the epoxy’s flash point. I panicked and ran for packaging tape and saran wrap to hold the works in check.
After an overnight set, I cut and peeled the plastic off. Some had doubled onto itself and became embedded in the epoxy. There were also a few air bubble craters.
Alternating stints with the belt and ROS sanders got things back smooth, though I questioned how presentable the fix would be.
Glad I donned a mask. Dust was everywhere. Wish I had worn long sleeves. The itching began. After wet sanding (kept dust down), the results improved. I thought I’d have to paint the mast.
Some of the outside layer of fiberglass was sanded off, but only slightly. Most of the dust was resin. One more coat of epoxy, a quick light sanding and 3 coats of varnish gets us whole again. Glad to cross this one off the list and now I have more confidence in UNA’s defense against the next blow.
A Thursday afternoon drive to Frederick, MD, dinner, quick nap and we were on the road by 1:00am. By 11:30 am boats were rigged at Rockland, Maine’s public ramp located in the easternmost range of the harbor.
Weather was perfect, sunny, 80 and 10-12 mph winds. However, once past the mouth of the harbor, the fog rolled in. Visibility was reduced to 50 yards and then, nothing. Lobster boats could be heard, but not seen. The horn of the ferry warranted multiple replies. Wind lessened and incoming tide caused us to forgo Hurricane Sound for Fox Island Thoroughfare.
Ports of call: Rockland Harbor, Fox Island Thoroughfare, Perry Creek, Pulpit Harbor, Bucks Harbor, Benjamin River, Center Harbor on Eggemoggin Reach, Casco Passage, Bass Harbor, Frenchboro, Burnt Cote Harbor, Center Harbor, Pulpit Harbor back to Rockland.
This video tells the rest to be told.
After last week in Maine, this Virginia summer has been hard to take. However, each time I sail UNA, I always come back with lessons and frequently a few more things I’d like to fix/change. None of these things concern the design. They are generally tweaks of detail. One lingering item on the list regards the floor boards. Varnished douglas fir is treacherous. Sprinkling salt in the last coat eliminated the slip, but the floors always felt damp despite repeated scrubbing. The salt was expected to dissolve away. Since I lucked into some teak (can’t beat free), I thickness planed some boards, cut them to shape and routed their edges to replace those existing.
I like the results and they feel great under bare feet. The center bilge access boards remain. They look fine and I didn’t want to fix them yet. Too stinking hot!
Also, my previous anchor bag, a modified cotton laundry hamper, never dried out. Found a good practical substitute. As a bonus, it can double as a lobster pen on the next trip north! $5 a lobster was awesome.
I’ve loads of photos and videos to make sense of from our trip north so, stay tuned.
Luna has provided some nice sails over the past several weeks. Got to see some of the Old Bay Club in Kinsale this past weekend (thank you again Francie and Floyd). Lots of good food, drink and some fine sailing. I arrived with my pram Gigi and had fun rowing and sailing her Sunday morning. Saturday, Bob let me have his Caledonia Molly’s tiller and I did not give it back until we had returned from a trip out to the mouth of the Yeocomico where we beached for lunch and waited for the wind to return. All was delightful. The rains hit when we weren’t sailing. This was our second weekend there. Good friends. Very relaxing. Hats off to Jim and his Coquina. I could not quite catch him on the Saturday ride home. Well done.
As a side note: Bob’s CY is the first Caledonia of the several I’ve sailed now (lug yawl and gunter 4 strake versions) that handles closely to UNA. Molly’s foresail appears higher peaked, her keel may be a tad shorter, those differences and her 7 strakes may allow her quicker tiller response. As competitive sailors, we can’t credit performance to the helmsman, so we frequently look elsewhere. An email to the prolific designer Iain Oughtred may offer more reasons (excuses?). If given, I’ll report back.
UNA was still dirty from last November’s sail, but she showed up to dance anyway. Love this boat.
Everyone has been saying that the year has flown by. Isn’t that the common refrain every November? Either way, regretfully, the sailing season is drawing to an end.
So knowing, last Thursday, Bob with “Molly” and I with “UNA” and Huckleberry met at Mathews’ Town Point Ramp at 0800. The sky was brilliant, winds steady at 8-10 from the WNW and the air would warm to a crisp 60 degrees. The water, chilled. Could it get any better? By 0900 we were on the water.
Our boats traded leads as we jibed down the East River. Passing the old Tide Mill at Todds Point we rolled over to Mobjack and checked on a friend’s house addition project. Back in the boats, we crossed over to Tabbs Creek, tied to a piling and rafted for lunch. A short beer and I was inclined to nap under the gentle sun in the cockpit . However, Bob helped me shrug off the drowsiness and we had the best sailing back up the river’s western branch to Woodas Point. Our return sail to Mobjack was nearly all downwind and easy. A neighbor intercepted us in his Nacra catamaran and followed us back to Mobjack where we set our boats to stern anchors for the night.
Good conversation and cocktails accompanied a changing scene on the river’s eastern shore in the setting sun. Dinner was Indian food and beans and rice. By 2030 we called it quits.
Day two started 10 degrees cooler. Hot coffee, corned beef hash and scrambled eggs were required to brave the chill of wading out to the floating boats. Now we were awake. Winds began to gust in the upper teens. We each put reefs in and had a marvelous beat back up the river to haul out. Surf Scoters and Loons kept their distance along the route.
Bob, thanks for being a buddy so late in the season. The opportunity could have easily slipped away. I’m more than happy we went.
Wee took a hot lunch in town (the lobster bisque was fantastic), wished each other a Happy Thanksgiving and headed down the road. I began a list of “to-dos” for UNA’s winter wait. Our number of sails this year were limited, but those taken will be remembered. It has been a very good year. I’ve got some gold.
We had a record number of boats at the Old Bay Club’s, now annual, Fall cruise on the James River, thanks to hosts Barbara and Harris. This event is a fair weather sailor’s dream. Honestly, the accommodations surpass any bed and breakfast, … and lunch, … and dinner. We ate more than slept or sailed. Both nights’ dinners were by fire and with cocktails on the beach. Both raw and steamed oysters were followed by Pennsylvania brats Friday night. A now infamous frogmore stew was served Saturday evening. The recipe is a guarded secret, but hiding the cobs of sweet corn, thumb sized shrimp, and sausage is impossible.
Eleven boats showed up for some easy sailing between the mouth of the Chickahominy River and Jamestown. We chased and taunted each other, all claiming to be getting the better of the other. Despite the razzing, some new friends were made. As always, we had a good time.
Again, thank you Barbara and Harris.
Last Thursday with daughter and UNA, we drove to Belle Island State Park on the north bank of the Rappahannock River to met Kevin and Little T.
By 11:00 that morning we we’re sailing downriver with the tide for the evening. Winds were westerly, light and predominantly downwind. To gain some breeze, we tacked toward Urbanna on the south bank. As the breeze had all but died we took a swim at the small beach just to starboard of Urbanna’s creek entry. Water, sun and beer were just perfect as we lay on the water’s edge. Kevin, opposed to bathing, motored on in to tour the creek.
The breeze returned from the east and we took the opportunity to sail across the river to Whitehouse Creek in the mouth of the Corrotoman. That was a 15 mile day. Dinner was Indian spread over rice.
We broke our raft up around 7:30 and by 8:00 were bunked and out. UNA is more of a 1 man boat for overnighting. All the gear I typically shove to port had to be stowed for additional floor space. The evening was just cool enough and we were sufficiently in a breeze to keep the bugs at bay. Regardless, it was a restless night arresting odd sounds from a bumping tiller to a rocking mizzen mast. Morning started at 06:00, cool and bright.
A NW breeze would make the sail back up river comfortable. We enjoyed the scenes along the banks.
We met several of the OBC crew and their boats along the way.
That night’s dinner menu included camp grilled brats from PA (thanks Peter), pasta salad, mellon, pineapple and deadly brownies (thanks Francie).
Saturday’s sail was more local as a girl needed to head home. Before that however, we had another enjoyable beach picnic. The water temp was fantastic and the sun just warm enough.
I said goodbye to my little girl and headed back out to chase the other boats. Racing back into the close quarters of the creek was my favorite part of sailing for the weekend. With a piped breeze and full sail, hiking out was needed. Reminded me of Moth and Laser sailing.
Dinner that night was out at the Lancaster Tavern. Too much to eat, but that is usually the case. Slept hard. Departed after breakfast Sunday morning. Some stayed behind to sail (Barry and Dennis). Wish I had too. Fun few days. Good friends.