Lionel and Elsie go sailing

Thursday, November 14, 2019

November 2019

In which we make our way from the United States to the Caribbean an d Elsie decides that she has done enough offshore passages.

We started November on Greta and Gary’s dock in Norfolk Virginia, waiting on weather to take us to Bermuda, a staging post for our winter in the Caribbean. Apart from our northward voyage in the spring, when we had hitched a lift from the Gulf Stream up to Norfolk and then followed the coast to Block Island, it was our first major offshore passage since Bermuda – Antigua of nearly a year before, when we had a horrendous start which had tested Elsie’s nerves. For several days, it had looked as though Saturday, 2^nd would be a good time to leave. Winds should be generally light and anything over 15 knots should be from behind the beam. It looked as though we might have to motor for a fair way but this was worth it to get an easy passage and rebuild confidence. So, on Friday, we got a lift from Greta, topped up the propane bottle and did our provisioning, including a dozen cases of beer. We also topped up the water. Fuel was at 90%. We left the dock at 0945 and motored down the Elizabeth River to a place where we could install the wind steering rudder (it makes manoeuvring in confined spaces tricky). Preventers were rigged; safety lines attached; all loose objects stowed away. We were ready.

Elsie setting off in hope.

As expected, we had to continue motoring down the Chesapeake. At 14:00, the wind had risen sufficiently to get the sails out and motor-assist. By 18:00, with a N’ly F2, we were able to progress under sail alone. The forecast was for the wind to back a little and increase to F4, with maybe gusts to 20 knots. This seemed to be working out when Elsie came on watch and we put in 2 reefs so that she would have a comfortable night. The Cape Hatteras area is notorious for rapid weather changes and, once again, it proved our undoing. The wind continued to increase and by 02:00 it was F6, with gusts to F7. We put the 3^rd reef in but Elsie was shaken and, at change of watch, suggested we return. I looked again at the forecast. It continued to show that, if anything, we would have too little rather than too much wind and I made the decision to continue, in the hope that a few days of lighter, favourable, winds would get us back on track. I seemed to vindicated that day. We kept the 3^rd reef in and just used variable amounts of genoa to be comfortable as the wind varied between 10 and 20 knots. That evening, with lighter winds, the batteries needed charging, so I started the engine. Twenty minutes later, the over-temperature alarm sounded and we had to shut it down. We carry a portable generator for just such situations, so I got that out and gave us an hour’s worth of charge to see us through the night. Fortunately, the winds continued to be light, so I was able to work on the engine on Monday. Opened up the sea water pump: 3 of six blades missing from the impeller, which was only 100 running hours old. Replaced. Engine run. No flow. The missing blades would have migrated to the heat exchanger, restricting flow, but I wouldn’t expect them to block it completely. Nonetheless, I opened it up (managing to catch most of my new coolant as I did so). Yes, the blades were there. Re-assemble; re-run; no flow. I took each pipe off in turn to blow it though and found that the one from the intake to the filter was blocked. There were a few little mussel shells in the filter, which gave a clue. With some trepidation, I disconnected the pipe from the sea-cock; gentle trickle. Poke with screwdriver; stronger flow. Re-connect; re-run and, hurrah, proper flow. Another bunch of shells in the filter.

The wind now started to veer round. NNE, NE, ENE. We put the wind on the port bow and followed it round. This, unfortunately, meant that we headed in the direction from which the wind had been blowing a couple of hours before, with residual swell causing us to slam into it which both slowed us down and made it very uncomfortable. Eventually, it veered enough that we were able to tack, head East and have an easier motion although we had to remain hard on the wind on this new tack for the rest of the day and through the night. Up to this point, the forecast had been for very light winds, but from ahead, for the last 100 miles, meaning that we could not arrive in daylight on Thursday, so we had no reason to hurry as I preferred not to enter harbour in the dark. Our new forecast on Wednesday evening, however, showed that, if we made good speed, we could arrive with an hour to spare so we piled on the canvas and proceeded. Once again, it was Elsie who caught the, un-forecast, gusts in the small hours. With too much sail up, she had a stumble, hurting her ankle. The wind did die at mid-day and we motor-sailed, then motored, the rest of the way. That afternoon Elsie broke the news that she had decided not to continue doing something which she had come to hate – long offshore passages. Did this include the next leg down to St Martin? Yes. Given the experience of the last few days, this was not surprising but it was still a blow. We had both known that the decision was coming but hoped that we could make it down to our Winter cruising ground and plan future voyaging with the need for long passages. We did make it to St Georges before sunset and proceeded to the customs dock to check in, made easy as they had our details from before and had already completed much of the paperwork ready for us. We then motored across to the south side of the bay, poured large rums and breathed a sigh of relief.

Friday was spent tidying up from the voyage, licking wounds and tying to work out what to do next. While Bermuda is nice, it has limited appeal and we definitely didn’t want to spend the winter there; Elsie’s mind was firm that she was not going to make the next passage; I was half tempted to do it solo but that was firmly vetoed. We ran through people we knew who might be tempted to sail with me and sent invitations but nothing doing there. The Cruising Association have a ‘crewing service’ where they match people wanting sailing experience with those needing crew. I framed an ‘advert’ for this and read through many profiles of possible people, finally sending invitations to the six most likely. Over the next 24 hours, I got 3 responses: 2 would or could not help; 1 was interested but wanted more details.

On Saturday, Elsie opened her heart on the internet, posting the same message as on the blog, both to general friends and on the OCC page. The result was rapid: huge support, both emotional and practical. She was offered a home to ‘look after’ in Cornwall for the Winter; we were recommended people who might be interested in helping me and friends from the summer said they would try to work out how they could re-arrange their own lives to help. By Monday, we had a firm plan: Elsie would fly back to the U.K. and a Scandinavian couple, Mads and Lotta, who had hauled their own boat, would join me and sail down to Antigua. After that, it just required details.

Life continued on board. We managed a little trip ashore on Saturday. On Sunday, we moved to the anchorage on the North side, as the wind was forecast to shift and increase. A good move as, by evening it was starting to blow. This didn’t prevent us from going ashore to the White Horse pub for sun-downers, including an introduction to ‘Dark and Stormy’ cocktails – very appropriate to the weather outside. There were several other cruising couples there, all of whom reported getting ‘beaten up’ on the crossing, which made us feel a little better. Amongst them were Gino and Carolyn, from Andiamo. They had been about 12 hours behind us and had been struck by lightning, taking out their navigation lights, their wind indicator, their fridge and their autopilot, meaning that they had to hand-steer for over 24 hours. So, just maybe, we were right to press on. Monday was a maintenance day: While Elsie did the laundry, I cleaned the carburettor of our little generator. It had been running a little rough and was found to have dirt in the main jet. I was very pleased that it ran well afterwards. Not so pleased that fuel was leaking but a bit more torque on the bowl bolt sorted that. We managed to get some water from the dinghy club, where Elsie was doing the laundry and were back to nearly full tanks. More maintenance on Tuesday. Since getting our ‘new’ windlass, we have slowly been accumulating twist in the anchor chain. This might be because the chain is getting worn or, maybe, the gypsy (which is shaped to lift the chain) is the wrong size. As a temporary fix, I pulled all the chain out of the locker and took, maybe, 30 -40 turns out of it, re-marking it in the meantime. Elsie spent hours researching flights and, eventually, booking them to take her home on Sunday, via New York and Paris. In the afternoon, we removed to mainsail lazy bag, which needed a new zip. On Wednesday, we took that ashore for repair then bussed into Hamilton, the Capital. A little shop browsing; a long visit to a gallery that imports carvings from Zimbabwe and a shop at a supermarket that has a better selection, and better prices, than that available in St Georges. Gino and Carolyn came over for sun-downer drinks. . Thursday was spent on little jobs, a long walk, then collecting the lazybag and re-fitting it.

On Friday, Mads and Lotta, my crew for the trip to Antugua, arrived. I bussed round to the airport to collect them and we also bussed back, though the driver wasn’t too happy at us bringing luggage on board. Saturday was forecast to be wet and windy but we ventured ashore in the morning to do the walking tour of the town. Quite entertaining, though a little hammed up. Mads and I got roped into the ‘ducking the gossip’ drama but little got done in the afternoon. Then on Sunday it was time for Elsie to leave. The mid-day flight to New York had been fully booked which meant she had to catch the 0830 one so we booked a taxi for 07:00. She then had a 12 hour wait at JFK airport and a further connection through CDG at Paris before getting to Glasgow on Monday afternoon. Not an enviable trip. Mads, Lotta and I went for a walk in the afternoon. We were just about ready on board, apart for the usual wait on weather so on Monday we went for a little sight-seeing trip.

Crystal cave

Mads and Lotta in St Georges

First to the crystal cave, which was very nice but rather over priced at $24 per head; then into Hamilton to look for a bikini for Lotta (not available), buy rum, a little walk round the town and then a major dry goods shop before returning to Ruby. At 5, we went over to Andiamo for return drinks with Gino and Carolyn, who were still waiting on auto-pilot parts. The weather forecast was still holding good for a Wednesday afternoon departure so, on Tuesday, we headed over to the fuel dock to top up with diesel and water. Mads and Lotta then departed for a longer sight-seeing trip, down to the Naval Dockyard then back through Hamilton to buy fresh food. Mads cooked some excellent burgers for supper. We would have savoured them even more had we known how long it was going to be before our next good cooked meal.

Wednesday started windy, as forecast but we ventured ashore for a walk in the morning and stopped off to check out and collect our duty-free rum. Lunch, then at 14:45, picked up anchor and ventured out. The wind was 20 knots, as forecast, but had not veered as much as we expected and was on the beam rather than from behind. I wanted to head away from it but Mads had plotted a blue line to Antigua and, on his watch stuck to it. Just as on our previous departure from here, once we were south of the protecting banks we encountered a very nasty steep, short sea, with lots of spray and occasional green water over the deck. Lotta suffered badly and even Mads couldn’t face food. I couldn’t be bothered to cook just for myself so just had a sandwich for supper. Lotta was too ill to go below and spent the first 24 hours occupying one side of the cockpit while Mads and I kept alternate watches from the other. Thursday continued windy though, with the wind now coming from behind, it was more comfortable. Lotta was able to go down that evening, though was still not up to eating, so I just made bacon and egg for myself and Mads.

Lotta crocheted a hat for Mads en route

There was a tropical storm, Sebastian, to the south of us. It was forecast to head east before we got to its latitude but, to be sure, we continued with the wind on the starboard quarter through the night to give it plenty of room. While downloading weather on Friday morning I tried to make a cup of coffee. The gas would not light which was odd, because I could smell it. Then the gas alarm sounded. Everything off and investigate. The flexible hose which had been fitted, at great expense, in Annapolis had broken. This was very bad news. It could not be repaired on board and we had no other means of cooking so it was going to be cold food from here to Antigua, still 5 days away. Even worse were the potential consequences: Propane is heavier than air and will sink to the bilges. Unlike in a house or caravan there are no holes for it to escape so there it will remain. Any spark could cause an explosion and fire which, on a small boat in the middle of the ocean would probably be fatal for all on board. I opened as many hatches as was prudent in the prevailing conditions, removed the floor boards to assist ventilation and used the hand bilge pump to try to pump the gas out. Elsie was pestered with many messages through the morning to advise her of the problem and ask her to try to find a solution for our arrival.

Weather downloaded, we could see that Sebastian was indeed clearing to the east, so we gybed round to put the wind on the port quarter to start making ground to the east. After the afternoon forecast, I finally had confidence to shake out he third reef for the first time since departure. On Saturday morning, this was followed by the second, as the wind was forecast to slowly veer round to the east and remain below 15 knots all the way to Antigua. There was a sad ceremony at mid-day as the fridge was emptied and all our fresh meat, which could now not be cooked, was thrown overboard to feed the sharks. Sunday dawned clear with, as forecast, an easterly 15 knot wind, giving us perfect sailing. Unfortunately, by late afternoon showers were appearing and we had to reduce sail again. At 8 PM, the wind unexpectedly veered to south and remained there all night, forcing us to motor. It relented a little on Monday morning and we were able to sail, albeit slowly as it rarely got above 8 knots. By 16:00 it had veered again and we motor-sailed for several hours. At 23:00 it finally co-operated and we were able to sail again. By 08:00 on Tuesday it had settled in the east and we were able to continue our gentle curve towards our destination. Convinced, 24 hours later, that it was going to stay just behind the beam at 10-12 knots, I finally took out the last reef. If we managed to average 5.5 knots, we could make Jolly harbour before sunset, have a restful night and check in the following morning. The wind accepted the challenge and increased to 14, then 16 knots. By the time we were in the shelter of Barbuda, we were making 8 knots over a flat sea with 18 knots of wind. Great fun.

Predictwind tracking from Bermuda (arrowed) to Antigua.

We arrived at Jolly Harbour at 14:00 and went straight to the customs dock. I had managed to remember the password for the local clearance system and was done in 20 minutes. By that time, Trevor, a local mechanic, was aboard looking at the cooker. Elsie had researched him and I had phoned on our approach. 30 minutes later, he had fitted a new hose. We had a cooker! I had, however, promised a meal ashore, so we went out to anchor did a quick tidy up, broached my new bottle of Goslings dark rum and had a celebratory ‘Dark n Stormy’ apiece, before dinghying back for our first hot meal in a week.

3 dark n stormys

On Thursday morning, we managed to find, and book, flights to take Mads and Lotta back to the states for a week later. They then took the laundry ashore while I did a bit more tidying up and relaxing. . Light winds were forecast for Friday and Saturday so we had a gentle programme. Friday, we had a little provisioning run then shifted anchor a couple of miles, to do a little snorkelling round the five islands reefs then a walk ashore in the afternoon. Saturday, we went a little further north, to Pinching Bay, more snorkelling, then back to Jolly in the afternoon to book out and intended to top up on fuel and water but, as the fuel station closed at 15:00 missed out on that. We finished the month back at anchor off Jolly Harbour, cleared and ready to go down to Guadeloupe to change crew back to the usual establishment.

Ruby at anchor off Jolly

Monthly stats:

Over ground 1591
Logged 1785

Saturday, November 9, 2019

Another fine mess - by Elsie

Well it’s happened, I’ve lost my nerve. No more long distant sailing for me. I’ve made a pact with Neptune sealed with a large tot of our best rum. He rules the waves but will let me sail if I don’t impinge much on his territory.

Do you know how much it has taken to say these words? Anger. Tears. Anguish. Feeling a failure. Then realism, knowing I can’t do it anymore. Being thrown around a boat for days on end. Not being able to eat or sleep or read or listen to music. Taking 20 minutes to go to the head. The simplest task taking forever. Being so terrified that I can’t move. Its no fun anymore.

Yes, it was a bad passage, Norfolk, Virginia to Bermuda. The weather which was downloaded every 12 hours was never the same. In fact, sometimes the weather was coming from the opposite direction it forecast. Each time our plan changed. We have to go north, we have to go south, we need to keep hard on the wind, we need to come way off the wind. Before we started, we were worried about the amount of motoring we might have to do. No need to worry. We motored hard to get into St George before nightfall and that was about that.

Am I failure? Am I letting myself and other people down?

I am definitely letting Lionel down. He is scurrying around trying to find crew for the passage from Bermuda down to the Caribbean. I’m letting myself down. No one likes to admit they have limits, reaching that limit is a shock, reaching that limit in the Atlantic Ocean is terrifying. Failure? What a horrible word. I feel a failure. After 4 years and 35000nm I should be able to cope with most things but I can’t. But then, reality hits. Through the Med, I’ve crossed the Atlantic, I’ve sailed through the Caribbean, I’ve made it up the east coast to Canada and back down without mishap. Is that being a failure, or am I trying to make excuses for myself?

I know people change, their outlooks, their tolerances, their goals. We cast off from Cork in August 2015 with all the expectations of who knows what. We had sold up and packed everything we wanted to keep in a shipping container. We didn’t know how long this adventure was going to take but we were going on it. Sometimes we spoke about round the world, sometimes it was a year in the Med, sometime it was crossing the Atlantic and coming back to Scotland in the next season. The world was our oyster and we were going somewhere. Lionel had just finished treatment for cancer and he was just happy to be alive. We knew we had the check ups and maybe subsequent treatment to face but life was good. However, we were realistic. We spoke about giving up sailing and finding a new adventure if this one did not work. The agreement was if one of us was miserable the sailing stopped and we moved on. We went on our merry way.

Now I have to face the reality. I am miserable doing off shore long distance sailing. I am quite happy on short hops and day sailing but I can’t face the day after day off shore. There was tense 24 hours when I faced my concerns and told Lionel. He felt let down, very let down and so he should. He had asked me a couple of weeks back if I was sure I was OK to go offshore to Bermuda then down to St Martin. I said yes, I was looking at it as a challenge. In my defence I did suggest turning back after 24 hours. We already had contingency plans, as all good sailors always have, Morehead, work our way down the coast, jump to Bahamas then head to DR and Cuba but we went on and now we are anchored in St George, not having a clue where to turn to. Somehow, we have to get down to the Caribbean. Just 7 days sailing to St Martaan then I will be happy to continue amongst the islands to Cuba then up the coast to Nova Scotia. Seven days and I cannot face it.

Why am I telling you all this? Why am I not hanging my head in shame and hiding myself away from REAL sailors’ gazes? The reason, simple. We all share our good times, our land marks, our triumphs but when it comes to the end its always “the boat is up for sale”. Yes, there is reasons given some of the time, goals have been met, grandchildren arriving, injuries or just moving on to bigger adventures. I have never read someone saying enough is enough. I have never seen the words “I failed”. I know I am not the first sailor ever to give up off shore sailing because they have lost their nerve and I will definitely not be the last. Its something not to be celebrated but it’s a reality in our lives and people like me should not be looked at as any less sailors because we don’t do it anymore.

I am not as brave as I thought I was

I have let the love of my life down terribly

Life will never be the same again

“Well, that’s a fine mess you’ve got us into”, in the words of Laurel and Hardy.

Sunday, October 20, 2019

October 2019

In which we hang around the Chesapeake, visiting a couple of boat shows and prepare to cross to our winter cruising grounds.

We started October at the top of the Chesapeake Bay, having come from Atlantic Highlands all the way down the coast of New Jersey, up the Delaware and through the C&D Canal. We were both tired and looking forward to taking it easy for a few days. On Tuesday, 1^st, we just took advantage of the afternoon ebb tide to motor the 8 miles to Howell Point, at the mouth of the Sassafras River. With a light southerly wind, we had another peaceful night, only punctuated by occasional gunfire from an army range across the river. This varied from automatic rifle to heavy artillery. The wind was still blowing up the bay on Wednesday, but forecast to veer later. We left at 08:55 and started to beat down the bay, with a slight heading current so progress was slow. The fairly narrow passage between the shallow banks was narrowed further by the danger area around the military zone, which was definitely active with small patrol boats positioned every few miles, so we had plenty of practice tacking. By 13:30, we had made about 20 miles when the wind did suddenly veer and we were able to head south on a reach to the Annapolis bridge and round to Whitehall Bay. This is a delightful anchorage, well protected from everything except the south and, once again, we had it to ourselves so we could have a recharge of our social batteries before proceeding to the maelstrom of Annapolis. On Thursday, we motored the last 6 miles up the Severn River to Weems Creek. Here we found a few OCC boats, including Five & Dime, one of our companions from the Summer cruises. Dinghy ashore for a little light shopping and again for ‘happy hour’ at an Irish pub in the centre of the town to catch up with friends.

The Power boat show was on and we decided to have a day looking at the ‘dark side’ on Friday. The only ones that we were genuinely interested in were the ‘trawlers’, moderate sized cruising boats which we could conceivably move on to if we found sailing getting to be too strenuous but still wanted to be on the water. We could still cruise to the Caribbean in the winter, up and down the east coast in the summer and possibly complete ‘The Great Loop’ by going up the St Lawrence to the Great Lakes, through canals to the Mississippi to the Gulf, round Florida and back up. Unfortunately, there were very few of these present, the overwhelming number of craft being small boats for fishing or family day trips, with a number of very high-end fast cruisers. Nonetheless, it was an enjoyable day out.

That evening, we welcomed a guest on board. Suzanne, who was our first house sit host, 2 years before, joined us for the weekend. On Saturday, with a moderate easterly wind, we sailed 35 miles down the Chesapeake to Madison Bay, on the Little Choptank River. It was a near beam reach most of the way with just a few miles of beating up the river at the end. A huge area to anchor in, which was just as well as, when we came to lower the anchor, no result apart from a low voltage warning. Fiddling with connections gave no joy, so we dropped the anchor by hand. The following morning, experimentation gave no progress, so we had to haul up by hand, running a rope back to a cockpit winch to do so. A couple of practices, to slicken up our dropping technique, and we got underway back to Annapolis. Although the forecast was for S’ly F3, we left a reef in the main until we got out into the bay and it was as well that we did. The wind went from 8, to 12, to 18 knots by the time we were heading north and, by mid-day it was over 20. We started on a broad reach, and put in a second reef, but then went to goose winged with a full, then reefed genoa. We still managed 8 knots, with the occasional 10 as we surfed down the building waves, which had over 120 miles of fetch from the Bay Bridge. Suzanne is an experienced sailor and seemed to enjoy it. Back to a broad reach to enter the Severn river, accompanied by many Navy sailing boats heading home from their day out. The wind dropped as we got into the lee of Annapolis and was down to 8 knots by the time we returned to Weems Creek. This made positioning easier as we dropped the anchor almost where we had before. A very late lunch, then dropped Suzanne back ashore before collapsing, exhausted, for the night.

Monday was spent working on the windlass. We managed to borrow a length of signal sized cable from Curt, on Five & Dime, and tried to work logically through the system, eliminating possible causes. The prime suspect, the hand controller, was first to cleared, Then the windlass motor and gearbox. By bypassing sections of cable at a time, we were able to demonstrate that it was the logic system, between the busbar and the solenoid relay that was the problem. To permanently bypass this, I needed to buy suitable wire and was just setting out to do this, involving dinghying ashore and walking 4 miles, when a local passed in his skiff and offered to give us a lift if we ever needed one. I quickly accepted his offer and got the required parts. An hour of running wire and fitting a new fuse and the moment of truth – could we use the windlass? Yes. Hurrah! I noticed, however, that the starter battery was low. A quick check showed that it was not charging. Was the logic for the windlass ‘no charge – no use’ and was this the reason that we had had the failure? As it was late in the day, I left further investigation until the next day. On Tuesday morning I found a very sad looking terminal on our auxiliary alternator. Was this the source? Disconnecting it produced a flash, so it obviously wasn’t completely dead. On re-connection I now found that now neither battery bank was charging and gave up in despair. Elsie’s focus was on getting a new cooker, to replace ours which has been getting very worn and inefficient, so we dinghied ashore and were about to summon an Uber when another boat’s crew arrived and summoned one for themselves. We were going the same way, so shared. At the boat show, Westmarine were handing out bags with stickers basically saying ‘if you can fit it in here, we’ll give you 20% discount. We believed that they could supply our chosen cooker so Elsie asked the manager if he could fit one in the bag for us. Amazingly, he said that he could. A significant saving. A little wander around Dollar General, to get a few give-aways for the Winter and the hardware store for a new terminal for the Alternator, then a four mile walk ‘home’. Another day of playing with wires on Wednesday only resulted in more confusion but the evening was the annual OCC dinner. Having met so many wonderful people in the last 2 years since we last attended, we had a great evening catching up with old friends. We also met a few new ones, including Suzanne Chapple, who organised a long and very successful cruise in company around the western Caribbean the previous year. We would very much like to go along if she ever does it again, so were pleased to ‘make our mark’ with her. The keynote speaker was Pete Goss, a serial adventurer who recounted the story of his round-the-world solo race of 20+ years before, including such episodes of sailing 160 miles into a hurricane to rescue a fellow competitor and doing a major operation on his own arm in mid Atlantic. All told in a very modest and self-deprecating fashion. The best of British.

High speed cat

When weight is so important that you have a carbon fibre loo

Thursday was the first day of the sail boat show. It was the preview day, costing twice as much for entry as other days but we deemed it worth the extra as it is quieter. It seemed that everyone else had the same idea as it was heaving. We split the day up into sections, looking at a couple of boats then going around vendors’ stalls. There were people we wanted to see: the cooker manufacturer, to check vital dimensions and see if they could beat Westmarine’s offer (no); Gill clothing as Elsie has an issue with her nearly-new jacket; Balcan Electrics to see if there troubleshooting guide would be of assistance with our alternator problems (no, but he put us onto a workshop that might help).

On the boat side, we were pleased to note that Dufour seemed to be dragging themselves up from the poor finish we saw a couple of years before; Beneteau and Juneau, not so much. We visited Pete Goss’ new cruising boat and had a nice chat with his wife, Tracy. A trip out to the alternator workshop resulted in a long walk home but we gained confidence that they could help. On Friday, I was kindly given a lift back there, with one of the alternators, before we went back to the show for a second day. We had no great plans for this so just popped onto any boat which didn’t have long queues. Looked at a couple of brands we hadn’t seen before, Tartan and Catalina, as well as Hanse and Bavaria. Also visited a couple of ‘out there’ boats: a Pogo 40, which we had seen an example of in Spain a few years before. It is a stripped down almost racer, with minimal crew comforts. The previous one had been owned by a middle-aged couple, which seemed a little odd to us; this one was crewed bit a fit young couple which seemed far more appropriate. We finished on Eagle, a 53 ft carbon, foiling, wing-masted catamaran, rigged out as a party boat. In the evening, there was a pot-luck supper at a property adjacent to the creek, where a few of our friends were staying.

On Saturday, I was given a lift to pick up the alternator. Disappointment as still no charging, possibly due to the other one also having failed, but we could not remove this until after we had moved round to a dock where we would get our new cooker on Monday, so we just tidied up for the weekend and hoped. On Sunday, our friends from Washington, Starla and Fred, picked us up from the boat ramp and took us to Baltimore for the day. We had a pleasant walk along the waterfront to an area where there was a beer festival happening. We lunched on mussels and beer, followed by a cookie and ice cream combo from a store which delivers cookies until 3 AM, for those with insomnia.

New cooker

Monday, we motored round to the South River and a dock owned by the OCC Port Officer, Westbrook Murphey. This was to collect our new cooker, which duly arrived and we took our old one to the dump. Unfortunately, the new one had been adapted to US fittings and would not connect to our French pipework. Visits to 2 stores and several phone calls had not solved the problem at the end of the day. Also disappointing were the alternators. I removed both, together with the ‘smart’ controller from the auxiliary one, for testing. The controller seemed to have failed so needs replacing. As we were without a cooker, we walked to a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner. I enjoyed my meal but Elsie’s was far too salty. Tuesday was spent working on the two technical problems, with little progress apart from finding a plumber who was prepared to work on the cooker. We spent the evening at out hosts’ house, with a great meal prepared in honour of Mike and Karen Bury who, hopefully, had that day sold their boat, Chapter Two. On Wednesday, I figured out the wiring on our new regulator and, at least, got one alternator working. We then had a little game of ‘musical boats’ to allow ‘Believe’ to come into our dock, with us mooring alongside them. The plumber returned and connected up the stove, at extortionate cost as he had had to search widely for parts. Thursday brought no more progress on the other alternator but Elsie managed to get the laundry done. By Friday, I had totally run out of ideas and appealed to friends in the Cruising Association and Ocean Cruising Club for help. This bore fruit on Saturday as Peter Whatley from the OCC took the problem in hand from the other side of the Atlantic and convinced me to take the alternator to bits. New brushes, fitted by the helpful technician, were jamming. A bit of filing down and a lot of cleaning and success! We finally had two working alternators again. We intended to start moving again on Sunday but we awoke to constant rain and decided to remain put and just do a bit of tidying up. Monday was brighter and we left the dock at 09:00 to motor across the South River to Harness Creek. Ashore for shopping at the hardware store (electrical fittings) Westmarine (bit for outboard) and supermarket. Away again at 12:40 and motored / sailed across the bay to St Michaels, anchoring at 17:45. Before sunset, I fitted my new part for the outboard. It was a ‘Doel Fin’ hydrofoil which provides lift and helps to get the dinghy on the plane. I had to modify it a bit to fit our motor but, on trying the next morning, it seemed to work.

Alternator brush

We had come over, mainly, to visit Tod and Anne, friends from the summer cruises but also to visit the Chesapeake Bay museum. So, on Tuesday, ashore to look round that. Interesting for the history of fishing, especially shellfish and also boat building in the area. We followed this with a very pleasant pub lunch with Tod and Anne, then back on board for supper.

Frames for replica ship at CB museum

Away early on Wednesday for a good downwind sail to Cuckold Creek, a very picturesque anchorage near Solomons. On previous occasions, we have had this to ourselves, but had to share this time. Another early start on Thursday and down to Ingram Bay, near Reedville. Another quiet spot. Friday started flat calm, so we delayed until mid-day before sailing down to Little Bay. Here, we were delighted to find more friends, Nicky and Reg on Blue Velvet and George and Frances on Twin Cove. We were invited on to the latter for sun-downer drinks and snacks. Saturday was again a slightly delayed start for wind, then a great beam reach down to the York River and run up to Sarah Creek, pleased to find our usual spot unoccupied. The marina here, York River Yacht Haven, is remarkably accommodating and, for a $10 fee, we had full use of their facilities on Sunday: Laundry; showers and even use of their courtesy car for a little shopping. While waiting on laundry we joined Harltey and Lesley on board Atsa for a cup of tea.

Twin Cove

The afternoon was spent on Engine play. Our domestic hot water, which is heated by the engine, had been running cooler and cooler and now was rarely getting above tepid. I decided to try removing the pipes at the engine end and blowing through. Pressures were much higher than expected; We had to put up to 25 PSI to get things moving, then a gout of orangey brown mud arrived in the waiting bucket. We repeated several times until the water ran clear with only one instance of a blow-back, which resulted in a spray of mud over the engine and aft cabin. Up anchor on Monday, first for fuel and water then a sail down the river and towards Norfolk. We anchored for the night in Willoughby Bay: a large, shallow, well protected area at the entrance to Norfolk. The only downside is the Navy base with constant helicopter activity and we found ourselves under the circuit with aircraft passing 200 ft overhead every few minutes. There was a pause at sunset, then night circuit practice which somewhat disturbed our evening cocktails but they did finish at 10 to give us a quiet night. We were delighted to discover that we had hot water for showers!

On Tuesday, we motored the final 9 miles to park ourselves on the private dock at the condo of Greta and Gary, OCC port officers. There is a block of 29 apartments, each of which has the use of a dock, but only about 3 are permanently occupied so G&G have negotiated visiting facilities for cruising yachts. This is a great way for us to get close to the city and also meet with other visiting OCC members. On Wednesday, 2 more arrived: Kialani, a circumnavigating American family and Blue Velvet. We spent the evening, with the others, in G&G’s apartment for a great eating, drinking and chatting session. Thursday morning was spent planning our next move: probably down the coast to Beaufort, NC, as the weather didn’t look good for going to Bermuda, followed by another blow through of the engine cooling system and top-up of the coolant. We then did a little shopping and visited the Chrysler Museum of art after lunch.

Monthly stats:

Over ground 350
Log 363

Saturday, September 28, 2019

September 2019

In which we cruise back from New England to the Chesapeake, with a little side trip to look at RVs

At the start of September, we were at anchor just outside the harbour at Nantucket. On the morning of the first, we took the dinghy in and had a walk along the shore, past the lighthouse and our anchorage to the root of the breakwater and back through town to the supermarket for a good shop then caught the bus back. By this time, the currents were working in our favour, so we picked up and sailed the 25 miles to Vineyard Haven on Martha’s Vineyard, anchoring to the North East of the port. It was a little rolly so, in the morning, we moved a little closer and took the dinghy into town. This proved a little disappointing with no nice walking close. We considered taking a bus around the Island but decided that we probably wouldn’t see much we hadn’t a couple of years before so, on return, we picked up again and caught the afternoon currents west along the Elizabeth islands to anchor for the night at Cuttyhunk.

The plan was to go ashore the following morning but, on waking there was a sailing breeze so we continued on towards Rhode Island. Rather than go into our usual stop, Newport, we intended to spend a few days moving round the many anchorages in the surrounding rivers. The first of these was Third Beach on the Sakonnet. A nice little bay with the western side full of moorings but plenty of room to anchor to the East. I suspect that in holiday season this would be full of jet-skis etc but we were past Labor Day and all was quiet.

Hurricane Dorian was still in the Bahamas but due to head up the coast in a few days so the plan was to head up to Bristol, well inland, and sit it out. Two things happened to change the plan. First, the forecasts of Dorian’s track steadied and agreed that it would pass well offshore this part of the coast. The second was I got to internet browsing and discovered that the biggest RV show in America was taking place the next week in Pennsylvania. We have always said that, when we get too old to sail, we will continue the adventure on land but we really don’t know what sort of vehicle would suit us best so, after sundowner rums, we decided that this was a learning opportunity too good to pass up. We wanted to ensure that we had a safe haven, should Dorian change his mind on routing, but Newport or New London would provide that. So, when the wind rose on Wednesday morning we picked up and, lazily, cruised under genoa alone along the coast and up the Narragansett to Newport. Quickly ashore, to get the best clam chowder in New England at the Red Parrot then a brief walk along the northern part of the mansions, a bit of shopping and back to Ruby. That evening a saucepan handle, which had been a bit wobbly, fell off so Thursday was another shopping day. We walked the couple of miles to T J Maxx, found exactly what we were looking for, then spent another hour browsing other shops but really just bought a few giveaways for the Winter. On Friday, the wind looked good for a gentle sail to New London so we had an early start and headed out, to discover that it was not so gentle. Ten became twenty, became thirty knots, from right behind. We were making 8 knots, sometimes ten, with a three reefed main (with a good preventer) and a small, tight jib to damp the rolling. The plan of routing through Watch Hill Passage was abandoned because of the swell and we took the longer, but safer route round Fishers Island. The rain caught up with us as we entered the Thames River but stopped in time for us to pick up a mooring and tidy up. This was the night that Dorian was due to pass but forecasts were for no more than 20 knots. Nonetheless, we had a good tug on the mooring to make sure it was firmly attached to the bottom! The forecast was correct and, once the trains had stopped, we had a peaceful night.

With Dorian passed, we could sail on with confidence. We left Port London at 07:05 on Saturday and, with 2 reefs in the main, headed west. For the first few hours, the wind was the beam, F4, and we made good speed. By midday, it had dropped to F3 and we shook out the second, then the first reef, hugging the north shore both to get a smoother ride and because it was forecast to back later in the day. At 1500, there was no sign of this happening so we headed straight for our destination, Port Jefferson, where we knew we could find an easy, safe anchorage. With 8 miles to go, the wind did back and increase a little so we ended up close hauled with one reef back in. We anchored at 1700. We were hailed by one of our companions from the summer rallies, Fiscal Stray, but they chose to take a mooring.

The Winds were not so favourable on Sunday, being light and from the west, but we elected to sail the 30 miles to Port Washington, so had a day of tacking. As it was a beautiful day and possibly the last chance in the season for the locals, the water was crowded but we made some lucky guesses with the wind shifts so made reasonable progress, although it did take over 9 hours to reach our usual anchorage, just outside the main mooring field. Monday was spent doing laundry and shopping, with one interlude. The Bay Constable noticed that there was no registration on the dinghy (compulsory in the States, but not required in the UK). He not only ticketed me for that but also for not having a ‘sound producing device’, though this is covered by a whistle fitted to a lifejacket and, amazingly, for not having a fire extinguisher. Elsie’s research showed that this was also not required.

On Tuesday, we moved onto a mooring ball and went ashore to drive down to Pennsylvania to visit the world’s biggest RV show. Elsie writes about this:

bit too small

After our adventures up North we had made better than predicted progress South. We didn’t really want to get to the Chesapeake too early as we had already done a lot of exploring there two years ago and we have become rather blasé about NYC. So, reaching Port Washington Lionel announces “Let’s go on an adventure? Well, if you know me you won’t be surprised at my answer. “Yes” then, “where and what for?”

We have talked on occasion about what will we do when we get too old and unfit for sailing or when we have had enough of living on a 40 foot sail boat and both of us have come up with some bizarre ideas.

· * Pet/house sit round the world

· * Buy a motor boat

· * Buy a retirement home in South of England

· * Buy a barge and travel the canals of Europe

· * Go back to Scotland and live out our days tormenting the grandchildren

· * Live in a caravan at Lasham and fly gliders

· * Do some land travel in a RV or Trailer

The biggest RV show in the world was about to take place in Hershey, yes, the place where the chocolate comes from. Lionel decided this would be a good place to go and have a look at RVs, trailers and all things camping. I thought it would be good fun just to have fun so we made plans. An Airbnb was booked for four nights, a compact car was hired for 5 days and tickets for three days were reserved for the show, it runs for five days but I thought that would be overkill. I wasn’t even sure about three days but they were booked. If we got bored, we could always take a look at Gettysburg which was only a half hour drive away.

Port Washington is an ideal place to leave a boat for a short period. It has very good mooring balls which are easy to rent at $25 per day and if you are on a ball the water taxi is free. They used to give two nights free but alas no more. There is a rail station a mile into town that will take you into the city and cars for hire in the next town. The hire car company will pick you up so no need for expensive Ubers or taxis.

So, on Tuesday 10^th September we find ourselves sitting on the town dock waiting to be picked up by our hired compact car. A very nice sleek Ford Fusion drew up and we were whisked away to a company somewhere near, I haven’t got a clue where we went. The conversation was the usual one, where are you going, for how long, where do you come from, are you on holiday, did you sail over the Atlantic, was there any storms, how long did it take you etc. As Lionel signed the agreements the salesmen were more interested in our sailing than trying to get more money from us which was very refreshing but they did forget to tell us an essential so Lionel had to run back and ask them how we dealt with toll roads. After that was cleared up, we were on our way.

Negotiating New York City at any time of day is daunting but we managed to get over the George Washington Bridge that spans the Hudson River and on to New Jersey Turnpike, yes the one Simon and Garfunkel sang about. I am a nightmare in a car when I am not driving, asking questions all the time and making remarks about the scenery etc. If anyone tries that when I’m at the wheel they are not so politely told to shut up so I don’t know how Lionel puts up with it but he does. We made one pit stop on the way and arrived in good time at Middletown, Harrisburg where we were staying for four nights. The first thing we had to do was to find a supermarket, easily done, and we decided to walk and stretch our legs. This was definitely Hicksville, a working-class neighbourhood with lots of large houses converted into apartments. They do like their religion though, with a large church every couple of blocks mixed in with the run-down seedy pubs. The supermarket sold alcohol as well, bonus, so we were soon back in our temporary home munching away and swilling the food down with copious amounts of beer and wine (I’ll let you work out who was drinking what). As it was an early start the next morning it was early to bed.

The “Biggest RV Show in the World” was held at the Hershey and Giant Stadium, an ice hockey stadium. As we approached this grandeur park, we realised they were not joking. Lionel had bought three-day tickets, the show was open from 10 till 8 at night and we had joked about maybe spending Friday at Gettysburg to learn some more American history. I don’t think so! If we were going to do justice to this place it would take at least three days. The website had indicated that it would be a far quicker process if tickets were bought in advance so we confidently strolled up to the very long queue expecting to find a quick and easy way for advance ticket holders to skip the long and winding column. Alas, no. We stood with the rest of the advance ticket holders watching the guys who had not been so organised stroll right through security and up to the cash desks. Hmm. At last we got in and were handed a program, map and bag for all the goodies. Where to start? This was just not a chance to look at the latest RVs from all the manufacturers but there were also seminars held inside the building on various topics. We had earmarked a few we thought would be interesting, the first one being “So you think you want to buy a RV?” It was very entertaining and the gentleman who took it obviously knew his stuff. He explained the different types – Fifth Wheel, A class, B class, C class and B+ class. He also went into some detail about what to expect when travelling in a RV and what it would be like to live in one fulltime. No surprises there, it sounded very like life on a 40-foot boat without having to worry too much about the weather. As we came out, I think we felt quite smug, we could relate to almost everything he said.

seminar

After lunch we decided to dedicate the rest of the day looking at A class RVs. Those are the bus ones that usually are towing a small car to run about in when you park your gas guzzler. There are two types, gas pullers and diesel pushers so named because the gas (petrol in UK speak) engine is in the front and the diesel engine is in the back. Yes, I have been listening. The gas propelled were significantly cheaper but did not have as much storage underneath the living quarters and they were not as reliable so our first decision was made. If we went down this road it would be a diesel pusher. Lionel had more experience than me so he decides to look at the Fleetwoods first. Beautiful, wonderful, everything you would need in a compact 39-foot bus.

full size shower

Full galley, sorry kitchen. Beautiful sleek head, sorry bathroom and televisions everywhere – even one outside so you wouldn’t miss the game as you took in the last rays of sun. I actually asked a sales man how many TVs there were in a 40-foot model -5!!!! We have one TV on Ruby which won’t work over this side of the Atlantic and to tell you the truth I don’t miss it. I’d rather listen to the radio. Lionel made the mistake of asking about outside kitchens. “We don’t do them” answered the salesman with a look that would have withered a field of corn at 100 paces. These things were huge and you would be effectively driving a 40 seater bus on the wrong side of the road. Do you understand my concerns? All of them had what was called slide outs – parts of the vehicle which basically slid out when it was parked to give approximately 50% more room inside. For these to work for us we felt the toilet, the bed and the kitchen must be easily accessible with the slide outs in so we could top for a short break without having to go to the trouble of putting them out. Some of the beds folded up as the slide outs came in which I didn’t like as I thought it might damage the mattress and there was no storage under the bed. Things were falling into place, what we wanted and what we didn’t want. After looking around a few more manufacturers we realised we both had expensive taste and picked the Tiffin models as our favourite. The Americans seem to like very dark wood which was not to our taste but the salesman said there were different combinations of wood, leather and flooring so when it came to buy you picked whatever combinations you wanted.

sitting room

On the way round we spotted a B+ class which we both though might be a possibility. These are like Luton vans with a bed usually above the cab. It was surprising the space inside, although yet again I felt there was still not enough storage. We both liked the Wraith models which had storage instead of a bed above the cab, full size cooker, fridge freezer, queen size bed and large shower. Lionel thought it might not be as comfortable to drive as the bus models so we organised a test drive for Friday morning. In between wandering around looking at different buses we took in two more seminars which were not so interesting – films about travelling in Alaska and the Rockies. It was mainly a marketing gimmick for people to buy the full-length DVDs although the scenery was spectacular and it did a lot reinforce the idea of land travel in USA and Canada. By this time my head was swimming and I wanted to go home. Off we went via the supermarket again and spent a pleasant evening pouring over the brochures and deciding what we would do the next day. Another early night was called for as the next day was going to be full on.

Thursday was dedicated to looking at fifth wheels. They are towed by a truck but more an articulated mechanism than a tow bar and ball. The seminars today were insurance and matching a truck with the fifth wheel which was very informative but we definitely need more information and help. The insurance was a waste of time, it was geared up for Americans and we did not sit through it. Lionel was very cheeky and joined the queue to buy tickets on the day so we got through the gate much quicker this time.

5th wheel

The fifth wheels are huge, they start at 35 foot and get bigger, and bigger, and bigger, with lots of slide outs and a huge wardrobe in the bedroom that can be plumbed for a washing machine and dryer if required. We identified something around 37 foot would suit us and plunged in. I had done some research on the internet and had identified the five best for full time living. We were not impressed with four of them but the Pinnacles looked good and had almost everything we needed. Wandering around looking for the next make we wanted to look at we stumbled upon a make I hadn’t heard of, Vanleigh. They were situated right beside the Tiffin and we thought they might be connected so we went to have a look. The first one we headed to was beautiful but the price was eyewatering. The sales lady directed us to the Pinecrest models, which were a little more in our price range. Absolutely beautiful, although the finish wasn’t as sleek and I didn’t like some of the décor. But we found “the one” in the Vilano models, perfect length, perfect layout and loads of storage – my dream fifth wheel.

island sink and work space

An American sized fridge/freezer, a full-sized cooker with oven and a combi microwave. A huge shower, the bed faced the correct way (across the van) and there was enough cupboard space in the bedroom for all our clothes, even the ones we had vacuum packed underneath the bed on Ruby. The slide outs worked too, the bed, toilet and kitchen were useable when everything was slid in. They usually contain the dining area and make the living space about a third larger. As the bed is orientated across the van it means when the slide is out the bed can be walked around on three sides. This one had space for a washer and dryer but that was not one of our priorities as we have lived without one for over four years. It is amazing how you can adapt to not having such luxuries as a car, a TV and things like a fully equipped kitchen. We were mighty impressed with these models and they were almost in the correct price range. One of our worries about buying brand new is the resell value. Although this company is run by the next two generations of Tiffin manufacturers, it is a completely different company and they have only been making RVs for two years. It is looking good at the moment, the 2018 models are still holding their prices but who knows what will happen in the future? We still have at least a couple of years before we have to make a decision which is probably in our favour.

full size cooker and fridge/freezer

On Friday we were in and round to the Wraith stand by nine thirty. The salesman and his sidekick took us to the demonstration arena to have a test drive in what is an elongated Luton van. The demonstration arena was a large car park which the organisers had left empty, a bit of a disappointment. I had first go and managed to get the speed up to about 25mph without hitting anything. It was surprisingly easy to drive, the mirrors made sure the driver could see all the way round and there was a camera for reversing. I did hit the exhaust pipe on the kerb but so did Lionel. It was a stupid design that had the end pipe coming out at the off side just about kerb height. Li had a drive on the road and said it was quite comfortable but there was a lot of noise, just like being in a van. Apart from the exhaust, the were a few things rattling around inside which they said were all lose because of missing screws, not a good example of their workmanship. We thanked them then went and looked at some of the novelty trailers (we would call them caravans) and the tiny houses which were basically house that could be legally taken on the road on the back of a trailer then plonked down on a chosen sight, more long term and not for us as we wanted to see all the country not just that bit.

Iconic airstream

Lionel had arranged a viewing of a used RV nearby. It was a Fleetwood Pace Arrow, an upmarket model but not one of my favourites. He only went to see it to get a drive in it and so he could compare the smaller Luton van model with the big buses. We wandered round the show for another hour and had a look at some of the stalls inside the arena. We found an interesting one that would help with registration of vehicles and mail delivery etc, kept the details of that one. Finally, we took another look at our favourite Vilano models for the last time. Luxury living here we come! After lunch we left for our viewing of the second hand bus. It was very disappointing. It was 12 years old but they were still asking a considerable amount of money for it. The people who owned it obviously had a dog as it stank and the passengers chair had been chewed and there were dog hairs everywhere. It was interesting to see how the slides opened and shut. I declined a chance to drive it but Lionel had a considerably long drive and said afterwards it was comfortable and he felt it was a far better vehicle to drive than the smaller one. We thanked the salesman and headed back to our Airbnb for our last night.

Traffic New York style

The drive back to Ruby was uneventful but the roads were far busier it being a Saturday. We thankfully eventually got back to Ruby early afternoon. It was a good fun break but I still cannot even contemplate selling her and giving up sailing. I know there will come a time that we have to because of ill health or just becoming too elderly. Lionel did point out he will be 80 in 16 years and he didn’t want to leave our land exploring too late and I did understand living on a boat at that age would be problematic. The conclusion. I think we both want to travel more and see different things. This continent is huge and has it all, cities, deserts, forests, mountains and vast open spaces so its probably a good place to start. The RV seems a good way to land travel and it would be easy to move with the sun. I am definitely leaning towards the fifth wheel route as I preferred the layout and space although I’m not sure about driving a 7 litre truck around as our primary vehicle. There are lots of pros and cons but it is a definite maybe, now on to our next high sea adventure…

even underfloor storage for grandchildren

PS We will be taking names for holidays in our RV in two years, probably.

Going solo

We returned on Saturday to find Ruby safe and motored back to the anchorage. Sunday was a lazy day with just a trip to the fuel dock for diesel, petrol and water. Monday, we did a little more provisioning, starting to lay in our winter stores and also a little maintenance. Feeling bored with Port Washington, on Tuesday we took a little sail across Long Island Sound to City Island, which sticks out from Pelham, in the Bronx. There is a nice anchorage, between two mooring fields and, according to Active Captain, a dock at the end of each street for dinghies. The docks are there but all appear to be private so, instead, we tied up at the Harlem Yacht Club (with European prejudices, this seems like an unlikely entity) which we were allowed to do as it was out of season. From here, it was an easy walk to Pelham Bay Park, which is billed as being bigger than Central park. It may be, but much of it is overgrown and, although it has a nice beach, this fronts onto Long Island Sound which isn’t exactly pristine. Labor Day being past, everything was closed so there was the usual out-of-season seaside dinginess. On first arrival, we were disturbed by the sound of gunfire: single, volley and automatic, but a little research showed that Rodman Neck, to the south of the park, is the home of NYPD’s firing range.

Pelham Bay Park

We still had the East River to negotiate and, as favourable afternoon currents would make us arrive in the centre of New York too late in the day, we had to wait a few days until morning ones would not necessitate a dark-O’Clock start. As we hadn’t had a decent sail in a while, we set off east, into an easterly wind, on Wednesday and spent six hours beating up the 21 miles to Northport logging 39 miles in the process. On Thursday, dinghy to the Town Dock, a walk and a little shopping. On our way, we bumped into the same school crossing attendant we had met two years before. She cracked the same gag about us looking a bit old for high school students (no-one else would be walking, with back pack) and directed us to the same supermarket. We even stopped at the same ice-cream shop on the way back. By Friday, the wind had shifted to the west, so we had the joy of beating back the 17 miles to Port Washington logging just 28 miles this time.

Police boat on the East River

It was time for laundry to be done. We realised that, although we had owned the new dinghy / motor combination for over six months, Elsie had never driven it so she had a little wander round the anchorage on Saturday before finally plucking up the courage to go ashore by herself while I did a few things on board. Ashore, together, in the afternoon for shopping then motored 5 miles closer to the East River entrance, anchoring in Little Neck Bay. Up at dawn to motor, with the current at times over 4 knots in our favour, through the centre of New York City. We pulled over to starboard passing Roosevelt Island to allow a tug and barge to overtake and then encountered a police launch, with attached machine gun, who required us to cross to the other side while passing the United Nations building. Prompt obedience! Round the bottom of Manhattan, then against the current up the Hudson. A shout from Elsie. Water coming from the engine. A quick check showed that it was coming from the fresh water cooling and would soon reach a critical condition. Very fortunately, there was a light southerly wind and, unfurling the genoa, we were able to just stem the tide and ‘hover’ opposite pier 40. I’m sure this puzzled a few other river users as we remained essentially stationary for over an hour. I phoned TowboatUS for assistance but they hadn’t appeared by the time the engine had cooled sufficiently for me to do a temporary repair and top up the water. Slightly worryingly the 79^th St marina reported that they had no free moorings but, as I needed spares to do a permanent repair, we continued with the expectation of anchoring north of their mooring field. On arrival, we found a choice of four vacant moorings and took the one closest to the marina. We spent the afternoon walking through Central Park and back down the river side.