May 2020

We arrived in Lake Worth, Florida on the 1^st May.  The anchorage was pleasant enough, though not of our usual preference, and we worked out where we could go ashore for shopping, etc. but we wanted to make progress up the coast so, when an opportunity arose 2 days later, we took it.  We left our anchorage mid afternoon on the 3^rd and headed out into a NE’ly F3.  Theoretically, this should have veered round a couple of hours later, to enable us to head back out into the Gulf Stream on the starboard tack.  As on our previous passage, however, it stayed resolutely from the direction that would allow us to either parallel the coast or head at right angles to it.  Not wishing to repeat a mistake, we continued on the port tack and, even though our heading was south of east, within 5 miles we were tracking well north of it.  By 22:00, we were in the core of the stream and tacked round with over 3 knots of push.  The wind looked like it was going to be favourable to take us all the way to Beaufort, North Carolina, which would put us within a few miles of our target of 35 North, required for insurance cover after 1^st June.  The only problem was an area of forecast thunderstorms, which might overtake us before arrival.  We watched this carefully and, as we approached the point where the Gulf Stream makes a right-angle bend to the East, made the decision to continue in a straight line and head for Charleston, South Carolina. We arrived here, with an hour to spare before sunset on the evening of the 5^th.  Even with some very light winds, this was our fastest ever passage, making 370 miles in 49 hours giving a speed over the ground of 7.7 knots.  Elsie’s morning watch on the 5^th achieved 61 miles in 6 hours all in calm seas.  If only all sailing were like this!

We motor sailed up the entrance channel, or more exactly, just outside it as it is very busy with large cargo ships, and dropped the anchor off Fort Johnson.  We stayed here overnight and then motored the couple of miles to a busier spot, opposite the municipal marina.  Expecting it to be fairly busy, I deliberately chose to make the move on the ebb, so that I could see how everyone else was lying.  Unexpectedly, there was a large clear spot and we were able to anchor with the nearest yacht 25 metres astern but well to one side and a smaller one 15 metres further, directly astern of us.  Dinghy launched and off for a good walk, shop and Uber back to the dinghy dock.  By now the current had changed to the flood. As we motored back to Ruby, I couldn’t see the small yacht, which should now be about 40 metres ahead of us.  Horror – as we approached, we saw that it was actually alongside and, with a poorly maintained rubbing strake, taking large chunks out of our gel coat.  Her anchor rope was underneath Ruby.  Not wishing to cut this with our very efficient rope cutter, I just used our rudder to swing us back and forth.  The first attempt was unsuccessful and, as we had towing insurance, I called for a tug.   After several further attempts, we managed to separate and we heaved up the anchor.  As it broke surface, we could see that we were fouling the other yachts anchor rope, but managed to drop this without too much difficulty.  We decided to move back to our previous anchorage but, as we started to manoeuvre, there was a large vibration from the propeller.  As we were drifting clear of other boats, we re-anchored, waited for the tug, and got him to tow us there.  We managed to get the number for local divers and they agreed to come out early the next morning.

The diver found nothing, apart from a slightly loose anode on the saildrive, which was tightened.  A quick engine run showed no significant vibration, so we considered job done.  We dinghied ashore and had a pleasant walk along the shore and back through the centre of town.  Nagging doubts remained, however and on Friday, we picked up anchor for more engine trials.  This time, the vibration was much worse.  Had the anode broken loose and was it flapping around?  It seemed unlikely that it would cause so much of a problem but I called the divers again.  They couldn’t come back until Monday morning.  We spent the weekend doing not very much, although I did go for a 6 mile round trip walk to a hardware store for some bits and pieces.  Elsie, meanwhile, had cut up a large slice of water melon and marinated it in rum.  This made a delicious, though rather potent, substitution for ice cubes in our sun-downers.

 

Sun-downers with added kick

While waiting for the diver on Monday morning, I contacted a boatyard and made arrangements for a further tow to take us there.  This was a good precaution as the diver found nothing further.  She removed the anode, on the unlikely possibility that it was the cause of vibrations, but no.  So, it was a 12 mile tow past Charleston and up the Wando river to the City Boatyard.  We would not be permitted to stay on board, while Ruby was out of the water and we checked that hotels were operating.  They were unable to lift us that afternoon, so we stayed on board that night, making a provisional Airbnb reservation for the following night. 

 

The prop shouldn't look like this.

As soon as we were lifted on Tuesday morning, the problem was obvious.  The two blades of the folding propeller were at different angles to the hub.  Closer inspection showed that one of the teeth which should keep them synchronised had been sheered off, possibly by excessive lateral force from the other yacht’s anchor rope.  While the boatyard is far from cheap, the staff proved their worth by tracking down a replacement propeller (unfortunately in Sweden) and getting estimates for this and repairs to the gel coat.  Since we were obviously not going anywhere for a while, we confirmed our Airbnb and booked for a week.  It was a 2 mile walk, mostly along a busy highway, but it gave us some exercise.  On Wednesday, I returned to the boatyard, to do some hull cleaning and arrange some other jobs.  Elsie walked the other direction for some shopping.  Unfortunately, finding the propeller was the high point of the yard’s efficiency and I spent the next week project managing.  Constant driving meant that we were ready to launch the following Thursday (even though I had to fit the new propeller myself – management had forgotten that the engineer had a day off).  Back in the water at 16:00, away at 17:30 and back at anchor at Charleston at 20:00.  We needed to do this as the last weather window to proceed east for at least 10 days was closing the following morning.  It was not going to be great sailing but, if we didn’t go, we would either be stuck where we were or have to motor up the ICW.

 

An early rise on Friday 22^nd saw the anchor up at 06:00.  We had following winds most of the way to Charleston but they were light and, to avoid running into head-winds, we had to motor sail a lot of the way but it was better than going up ‘the ditch’.  We were not alone in this judgement as we saw at least half a dozen other yachts following the same path.  There was a choice of anchorages on arrival.  We could enter the river and stop opposite the coastguard station, which is safe but not scenic and gets a lot of passing traffic or continue another 5 miles to Cape Lookout Bight, which is a large, almost totally enclosed lagoon.  We had been here a couple of times before and there were usually a couple of other boats but there were deserted beaches and plenty of room.  There was no immediate hurry to move on, so we opted for the latter.  As we approached, on Saturday evening, Elsie called that she could see some masts already there.  ‘I can see six, no, eight’, ‘more’.  In fact, as we rounded the spit, I counted 34 sailing boats and 8 motor yachts, not to mention a couple of shrimp boats.  Some of the yachts were those we had travelled with; some were flying the ‘Q’ flag, so had presumably just arrived from the Caribbean but most were locals.  We had omitted the Memorial Day public holiday from our calculations.  Never mind, there was plenty of room and we found a surprisingly large space to anchor, celebrating our arrival with ‘Dark and Stormy’ rum and gingers. 

 

On Sunday morning, at 07:00, we discovered the reason for our large space: we were on a direct line between the entrance and the markers for Barden Inlet, a popular fishing area, and the locals, in their speedy boats were heading for it, seemingly at 20 second intervals and doing 30 knots.  We rose, picked up and moved out of the firing line, which reduced traffic a bit but there were still a few close passers-by.  As the day progressed, the picnickers arrived and the beach was fringed with dozens of motor boats disgorging the hoards.  We elected to stay on board.  Although Monday was Memorial Day, it seemed that the shops would be open, so we headed into Homer Smith docks, catching the morning tide and tying up at 11:00.  There is a courtesy car but it was busy, so we walked the mile-and-a-half to the Piggly Wiggly supermarket for a few supplies, returning for lunch. Later in the afternoon, our wonderful OCC port officer, Dianne, visited, bearing her usual gift of peanuts and we arranged that she would pick us up in the morning to take us to breakfast at a local restaurant.  Around her visit, Elsie managed a couple of loads of laundry, rejuvenating our saloon cushion covers.

 

We were joined at breakfast by Nicky and Reg, from Blue Velvet, who updated us on their adventures over the winter.  They had managed to get down as far as Honduras before lockdown and seemed to have made the most of being some of the few guests in what was normally a busy tourist spot.  It looked as though there would be a weather window for us to depart on Wednesday morning and go the outside route round Hatteras, so we let go at midday and headed back to the Cape Lookout, having a nice beam reach on the way.  A re-check in the morning showed that we should have SSE 20 knots, gusting 25, pretty much all of the way.  This was a bit more than ideal for the 70 miles between the Capes of Lookout and Hatteras, where it would be on the beam, but well within Ruby’s capability. We put 3 reefs in the main and headed out at 0900.  At first, the winds were lighter than forecast, though there was a larger swell than we had expected.   This continued to build to over 4 metres and, with the wind increasing to 25, gusting 30, made progress, though rapid, very uncomfortable.  Once past Hatteras, we were able to come round to a broad reach and the swell reduced, making it more pleasant.  Of course, now that we could handle the wind, it started to reduce and, by 08:00 on Thursday, we were motor assisting and we continued, juggling sail plan and motor power as the wind varied all the way.  We entered the Chesapeake at dusk and elected to continue as the following morning the wind was due to die, then re-start from the north.  The last 30 miles were made under full sail with the wind increasing back to F5-6, which finished us with a romp up the South River at Annapolis.  We entered Harness Creek, one of our favourite spots on this coast, and anchored at 14:40, a little surprised to find it almost deserted. 

 

Saturday morning dawned fair and by 10:00 the joint was jumping.  There is a place to rent kayaks, paddle boards, etc and on previous visits there were usually a few of these out at weekends.  Now, every one was taken, with queues building.  Dozens of small motor boats also arrived to celebrate the end of Covid lock-down.  We had work to do: tidying, cleaning and drying so just got on with that over the weekend.  We did go ashore for a walk on Sunday, to get a few more cleaning supplies and then sat down with our sun-downers to watch the last of the weekend visitors leave that evening, leaving us in peace.

  

April 2020

In which we spend 4 weeks at anchor at Key West, waiting for developments on Covid 19, then start moving north again.

We arrived in Key West in the small hours of the first of April and, after a much-needed sleep, moved round to Garrison bight at first light.  As Elsie described, we picked up a mooring and completed check-in procedures, thus relieving any anxiety that we would not be permitted to stay.  On our way back from check-in, we flagged down a local who advised that there might be an unofficial place where we could land the dinghy to get provisions. Satisfied that we could at least survive, we spent the remainder of the day tidying up from the passage and catching up with the outside world.

 The following morning, I made a series of phone calls to try to clarify what shore access was permitted.  The city marina confirmed that, as we were not resident, we couldn’t use any of their facilities, including the mooring buoy that we were currently tied to; This was not their decision, but that of the authorities, though they were unsure of which ones.  I tried the coastguard, not them.  The Fish and Wildlife commission (which had issued orders about social distancing on small craft), not them.  The city council, not them, but the county. I was given a number to call, which turned out to be a snitch line for local tax-payers. Unable to talk to anyone in authority, I emailed the county head of emergency response, who appeared to have issued the ruling.  No reply was ever received.  Eventually, another marina agreed that I could use their dinghy dock and, leaving photo ID, could have an hour to shop.  Since they were several miles from the supermarkets, this would need taxis, but Ubers were operating.  Dinghy in, call taxi, 10 minutes; taxi ride, 10 minutes; shop, 15 minutes; call taxi, 10 minutes; ride, 10 minutes; back with 5 minutes to spare.  Can I fill my water cans? Yes.  So we now had access to food and water and were sheltered from all but the worst weather.  We just had to find a better parking solution.  There were a couple of yachts anchored outside the mooring field in a big open area, so we let go the buoy, found a nice big space and dropped the anchor.  During the afternoon, we were passed by boats belonging to the Coastguard, police and Wildlife commission, not of which even slowed down, so we seemed to have passed the last test.

Key West anchorage

Like many millions of people round the world, we now had to get used to a much slower pace of life than even we were used to.  Not being permitted to exercise ashore, I took to early morning calisthenics, something I hadn’t practiced for over 45 years.  It had to be early as by 8 AM it was too hot for anything energetic.  We forced ourselves into a routine of study periods etc. but, like all those other millions, we discovered that merely having unlimited time didn’t mean that we actually got round to writing that book or learning advanced mathematics.  I did clean Ruby’s bottom and topsides and freed a couple of seized locker catches; Elsie repaired a cushion or two and cleaned the cabin deckhead but too much time was spent on social media and reading about the news from around the world.

Passing bar.  They didn't stop to offer us a drink.

After a few days, it was time for another shop, so we headed to where the local had indicated.  The chart showed a large bank, drying at low water, so we rigged seat and oars in the dinghy, in case it was too shallow to motor.  It transpired that there was sufficient water to get in and, underneath a bridge, a 4 m metre wide beach where we could land and walk to the supermarket.  Only when we got to the top of the bank did we see the sign warning of crocodiles.  We never saw any of those, but there were some large lizards and, strangely, cockerels.  All our basic needs were now met so the routine continued:  water, every 2 days: shopping, once a week; laundry, once (self-isolating in sub-tropical temperatures, you don’t get through many sets of clothes); propane refill, once.  The hot water calorifier, which had been functioning well a couple of weeks earlier, now ceased to work, and many hours were spent flushing this through with various chemicals, unfortunately without success.  There is a blockage, requiring about 30 PSI to overcome. We can manage without for the time being so we will hope that it clears itself as it has once before.  While working on this, the seal on the raw water engine pump failed so another shore trip was required to exchange this, and its spare.

Don't hang about on this beach

While not in any hurry to go further north, we kept an eye on the weather.  After a couple of weeks, we saw a potential window coming up, to take us up to Lake Worth, near Palm Beach, Florida; pause, then further to Beaufort, North Carolina.  We prepared for this then, with about 12 hours to departure, the weather for the second leg started deteriorating and, as we didn’t want to get stuck in Lake Worth, we stayed put.  Of course, soon after our departure slot had passed, the weather improved again, but we had missed it.  Ten days later another slot, though not quite as good, appeared and, as we were now getting near to our original schedule, we took it.

On the afternoon of the 29^th, we motored back round Flemming Key (home of U.S. special forces) to take fuel and water, then anchored, waiting for the optimum departure time, 21:00  The theory was that we would head south from the fairway for an hour, to get into the fringes of the Gulf Stream; the wind would veer sufficiently for us to tack and then it would be a downstream ride all the way.  As so often, the weather didn’t read the script: the wind did veer just sufficiently to force us to tack but then hesitated for 6 hours so that it was not until the small hours that we got the full benefit of the current and 08:00 before we could ease the sheets and relax.  The stream makes a right angle turn and it wasn’t long before we were broad reaching making 8 -9 knots over the ground with 10 knots of relative wind.  It would have been nice if the wind were to back but it was forecast to veer, so we were expecting to have to goose-wing for a few hours before broad reaching on the other tack.  Instead it died.  At the same time, we were getting severe weather warnings from the other side of Florida.  We checked and re-checked the forecast and confirmed that our, Eastern, side should be clear but Elsie spotted a dark line on the horizon and, even though we were only getting 5 knots and the radar was showing no rain, we put in 2 reefs.  As we finished, the wind veered through 120 degrees and increased to 25 knots.  For the next several hours we had NW F6, instead of the forecast SW F3.  With wind against current, this made things uncomfortable, to say the least.  Eventually, it did back to west and decreased to F4, so we had a few hours of more comfort.  By 02:00, it had veered and increased again so it was back to crashing into the waves, only almost compensated for by the 11 – 12 knot progress.  When I rose for my watch at 05:00 on the 1^st May, we were just coming level with Lake Worth, though we were 16 miles offshore, so tacked round and had an easy reach in.  We reached the fairway buoy at 08:00 and by 9 were at anchor in this very affluent widening of the I.C.W.  We tidied up and settled to wait for the next window to continue north.