On a Schooner
I had the opportunity this fall to be a paid passenger/crew on a schooner going up the Chesapeake Bay. The schooner, Woodwind, had participated in the Great Schooner Race from Annapolis, MD to Norfolk, VA. The trip I was taking took the opposite route.
The plan was to go from Norfolk to Hampton the first day, to Deltaville the next, up to Solomon’s Island, anchor near Annapolis, then pull into Annapolis on Friday. But best laid plans often go awry. In this case it was it was one of several nasty wind event we’d had on the Chesapeake Bay over the last two months. This one was a nor’easter with sustained winds in the 20’s and gusts in the 30’s. What made it worse was the winds for most of the trip were coming directly from the north. And to get to Annapolis from Norfolk, you head north.
Day 1
My daughter and I arrived at the boat about an hour early. Construction has been going on at the bridge tunnel that links Norfolk with our side of the water and I didn’t want to chance a delay causing me to be late. We dropped off my gear and headed to lunch.
After lunch, I hugged my daughter goodbye and boarded for the beginning of our adventure. I dropped my gear in my cabin, then joined the others in the cockpit.
The captain gave us a rundown of the boat, told us about the man overboard procedures, and gave us the tentative plan. We then headed to Mill Creek, near Ft Monroe, in Hampton, crossing over the tunnel I had to take to get to the boat. I quipped that I could have just met them in Hampton. But then, I guess, I would have missed the briefing.
We had shrimp or beef tacos, prepared by one of the mates. They were delicious! We learned a card game I’d never played before – Mr President- which moved quite quickly. Then I headed to bed for the evening and left the others to more cards.
Day 2
The captain pulled us out of the creek and into Hampton Roads. The winds were strong, coming almost directly out of the north. The sails were up, with 2 reefs in the main. The captain let the guests take turns at the wheel. Because of the winds and the current, we were just going east and west, making little progress north. After a time, the captain took the wheel, turned on the engine, and we made our way north.
I’m sure this was fun for the captain and regular crew, since it was not what I would assume is the usual mundane voyage. But we were getting heavy waves and everyone in the cockpit was getting wet. I headed down below to stay dry and read my book.
Our goal was Fishing Bay, near Deltaville, where we could get a pump out, refill water tanks, and refuel. We made it about 4:30 pm, before they closed at 5. We asked to stay at the fuel dock overnight, but our request was denied. So we anchored out in Fishing Bay. Once we settled in, the captain received a call from one of the nearby vessels, who knew the owner of our boat and said to pass on their greetings.
I had never understood the appeal of the Deltaville area. There was little to do in the town and the landscape don’t seem that appealing. But Fishing Bay was beautiful. It was quite a splendid spot for a stopover.
That night’s dinner was curry, which was also delicious.
The rest of the folks wanted to play cards again. I bowed out since I was tired and had done very poorly on the game the previous evening. I could hear the buzz from the conversations in the aft cabins from my bunk, but was still able to settle in for the evening.
Day 3
After the rough weather on day 2, which was not expected to be much better today, the captain decided to leave a bit later in the day, when the winds would subside a bit. She also shortened our passage for the day, aiming for Reedville instead of Solomon’s Island.
The waves had lessened and the winds did come down a bit, making for a somewhat more comfortable passage. But the winds were still out of the north, so sailing was difficult.
We appreciated the shorter day. And the anchorage the captain chose was again ideal. And, like the one the day before, it was sheltered from the winds.
Dinner that night was a choice of eggplant or chicken Parmesan on a bed of ziti. Yum!
Day 4
We had a deadline of getting back to Annapolis by Friday, so today had to be a longer voyage, to make up for the day before. So the captain and mates started us out at 4 am. The wind and waves were much like the day before – still choppy, but nothing like earlier in the week. But we spent most of the day motoring in order to make up miles.
I did notice something fun that I hadn’t appreciated before. You can see rainbows in the spray!
WE made good distance, heading to an anchorage in Harness Creek, just south of Annapolis. Another beautiful anchorage, sheltered from the wind.
Day 5
Our last day! The winds finally died down to something reasonable. This was more like what we’d hoped for on this trip. And we were able to sail most of the way to Annapolis.
This was the usual stomping grounds for Woodwind, the region where there took Annapolis tourists for a short day trip. So we also got some of the spiel about the structures in the area. One such structure was the famous Thomas Point Shoal light which, according to Wikipedia, “is the only screw-pile lighthouse in the bay which stands at its original site.” It was quite impressive!
We ended the voyage with a glass of champagne, or mimosas for those of us who chose to add a bit of orange juice.
Would I do this again? I think I’d take my chances a second time. Hopefully the next time won’t be as rough. But it was well worth it to spend this much time on the water with an experienced crew.
The Saga So Far
For background information, read my last post.
I moved the boat from Wormley Creek as soon as I could. I found a spot at Seaford Yacht Club. I had arranged to take the boat on the 18th to Cobb’s Marina. But the weather report was looking pretty crappy. The next time the Marina could take it was yesterday.
To make this work on a weekday, I wanted to start early enough that I’d be done by noon and be able to put in at least half a day.
The tides didn’t look good. Low tide was at 6:30 am, just about the time I’d want to leave. And Back Creek is pretty shallow at that time. So my husband, Erik, and I went by last weekend at low tide to check how bad it really was. My handheld depth meter read 5.5′, so I had a foot under the boat. Not ideal, since I draw 4.5′, but at least I wasn’t sitting in the mud.
Thursday night didn’t go well. I’d shut my eyes and doze for about an hour, then wake up. I tried taking Melatonin and it didn’t seem to help the situation. I didn’t want to take anything stronger and risk not waking up at all.
Finally, at 5 am, I got up and headed to the marina. The boat was low in the water, that’s for sure! And most of the fenders I’d attached to the docks weren’t doing much good; they were guarding the lifelines.
I pulled everything in. I unattached the power, avoiding getting bitten by a couple of hornets who’d made the box their home. I rolled up the lines on the fenders, but threw the other lines in the cockpit to deal with on the ride over.
It stays pretty shallow in Back Creek for a bit. So shallow that Navionics has this red and black warning line on the route for the first 1/2 mile. But I got through that ok. This is still the Poquoson Flats though, so it was still about another 45 mintues before I could safely crank the engine and stop watching the depth so closely.
My autopilot, which has been going bad for awhile now, is now not working at all. I’d put it on, it would steer to port, then scream at me because it wasn’t going where it knew I wanted to be heading. So I gave up on it, locking the wheel for short periods if I needed to step away for a bit, or using my foot to steer.
Predict Wind said I could expect winds between 10 and 15 kts when I got to the bay. And, of course, I was near the shipping lanes. So it was a bit choppy. And without a sail (remember: my mast is still off) it was hard to smooth it out. But it wasn’t anything too terrible most of the time. Just a bit uncomfortable when said ships were passing.
I made it in good time, showing up at Cobb’s Marina at 11:35, which was good: the yard crew takes off for lunch at noon. I left the keys with them and caught myself a Lyft home.
Next task: get the bottom paint done while it’s out of the water.
[Top]Relocating
“Why don’t you come to the pool? It’s quite comfortable.”
“I’m not a pool person. How’s your boat?”
“I think you should hire me as your project manager when I retire.”
“You need to leave. You don’t like the work we do and now you tell me that you we don’t manage well. I think it’s time you need to leave.”
There was, of course, more. But that day, my grandkids and I were thrown out of the pool and I was told to leave the marina before 30 August, one month away.
Problem is, my boat is dismasted. As part of the plan to have all the major work done before I retire, I was having the rigging replace. So I not only had to move my boat, but I had to find a way to move the mast.
Phone calls started. Text messages started.
First I had to find a place for the mast. I wasn’t leaving the marina without it. I had work planned for the middle of August at another marina. So I called them first. They were able to move things around to be able to take my mast and store it until I showed up for the other work I had scheduled. They could also handle stepping my mast.
It was suggested that, like when one goes down the Great Loop, I put the mast on the boat with a framework.
This was the least expensive option. But it involved getting a frame constructed. And I didn’t want to, didn’t have the time to, do that.
See, part of the problem is that my daughter is getting married next weekend. I wanted to have this all taken care of before family started arriving. And I do have a real job that helps pay for my expensive habit. I didn’t want to take a lot of days off of work to take care of this.
A friend I texted suggested a moving company that handles unusual moves. I called them. They reconnaissanced at both the marina the mast was currently and the marina where the mast would be moving to. They said they could move it for $600, which I thought was quite reasonable. << shout out to Seaford Transfer!
I also had a text message going with friends I thought might be able to help me move the mast onto the trailer. See, the marina owner also told me that, not only could we not use the pool, they would not help me move the mast. Sigh!
I checked online to figure out what my mast would weigh. 600 lbs! But the friend who’d suggested the moving company also said that seemed a bit high. His estimate was 2-300 lbs.
I had 5 friends who said they could help with the move.
Two of them, Jodi and Steve, arrived early to help get some moving blankets wrapped around the mast and wrap the entire mast with rope to hold up the rigging.
We got it onto the truck and headed out.
I drove towards the new marina. On the way, I got a phone call from them. Because it was so hot (heat index > 100 degrees), they were going to try to let their crew off an hour early. No problem. We were on our way. Next issue: they took lunch between noon and 1 pm. I was arriving at the new marina at noon. The truck was behind me. So I called Seaford Transfer and told them to wait before heading over.
I went to Cobb’s Marina and filled out paperwork. I then went down the street for lunch, figuring to come back at 1 pm to watch the unloading and to grab my friend’s blankets.
When I got back to Cobb’s, the truck and trailer were there. The driver said he’d gone back to the yard and added more straps to the mast. With the traffic starting to back up, he ended up getting to Cobb’s just after 1 pm.
I watched them unload the mast. Much easier with a crane than when we did it by hand.
The mast was taken care of. Now to take care of the boat. I had 2 weeks between now and my appointment to bring it to Cobb’s. I could go the Dockwa route. But that was expensive for just 2 weeks. I check with the marinas near me. Seaford Yacht Club had a couple of transient slips. I could get into one of those for $5/night plus $5/day for power. Deal! So Sunday, barring the storms that look to be brewing, I will be taking the boat to Seaford Yacht Club.
[Top]Dead Stop
It’s cold outside. Real cold. Not cold enough that the water freezes – thank goodness! But cold enough that I don’t want to be on the water.
I had an anemometer installed by the marina 2 years ago (found the receipt – it had been that long ago!). But they never connected it to the gauges. I’d called in someone else to come take care of the final steps, but that person never showed up. So for another year, I waited for the marina to get around to it. They didn’t. So I found someone else to do it. This month. In winter. When it’s cold outside.
Well, we found a week when it wasn’t miserable.
I motored the boat to their location, not far off the marina property, docked it and left it for the repair. Then I came the next day, when the repair was done, to return the boat to its slip. As I started to pull away, the engine died, so I pulled back over and tied up again with just one line. I got the engine going and backed up again. The line fell in the water and I thought, “I need to go take care of that.” But at that point, I was drifting towards another boat, felt that was more important, and forgot about the line in the water.
I proceeded to my slip, everything going fine now, until I turned a corner. Then the engine died. At this point I’ve forgotten about the line in the water, so I think it’s engine problems and I try to restart. I do find it odd that I can’t move the throttle back to the neutral position.
Engine won’t start, and I’m too far away from my slip to pull myself in. I’m starting to drift to the other side. So I grab a line and the boat hook and a line, hoping to catch a cleat on the other side. I get the line on the boat hook, move it to the cleat, but can’t catch it before I drift again, this time to the seawall. I pull myself along the seawall until I reach the slips again. I can’t see how I can pull myself to my own slip, so I work on maneuvering the boat into the closest slip, one that’s a bit too small for the boat.
I leave the boat.
I return a few days later to see how things are doing. I haven’t been plugged into power, so the bilge pump has stopped working. It’s rained over the days I’ve been gone, and I have a leaky porthole. I don’t think that much water can get in, though.
I was wrong. There are about 3″ of water over the floorboards.
I grab the hand pump and start pumping out water. It goes way too slowly. I go over to the marina office and explain the situation, asking if they can bring over their portable bilge pump to pump out the boat. They do. They also bring an extension cord so we can get the boat plugged into power. After discussion, however, we just plug me into the neighbor’s box. He hasn’t used power in awhile and I just say that I’ll pay his power bill for that month.
Two months later, and we finally pull the boat out of the water. The line has wrapped around the prop shaft and the strut tightly. Ryan from the marina unwraps it and the shaft goes back into the boat 2″. He tries to put the boat back in the water and the shaft seal is leaking. So he pulls it back out again.
And that’s where we are today, waiting for a new shaft seal to be installed. Waiting for my engine mechanic to give the thumbs up that I didn’t damage anything on the engine. And waiting for weather warm enough to fix the gelcoat from the last adventure.
Labor Day Storm
Labor Day Storm
I was planning on sailing across the Chesapeake Bay, from Yorktown to Cape Charles over Labor Day weekend to raft up with some friends. I’d checked Predict Wind and breezes we’re expected to be about 15 knots. My boat laughs at such weather, so I wasn’t worried. I had my 2 granddaughters along. They’ve been on the boat since they were infants. I had plenty of snacks (the most important consideration) and electronic entertainment, and they did fine playing in the cabin. So we headed out.
We started out well. I’d put out the mainsail and was getting some help from that, and we were doing about 5 to 6 knots. As we left the York River and headed into the channel towards the Bay however, the wind did it’s usual thing: it was on our nose, so the sails would do not good.
Leaving the York River and heading east, we have to keep to the channel long enough to get past the shallows coming off of the Mobjack Bay. So we kept on our course, still making good time. As we entered the Bay, however, the winds picked up and so did the waves. I checked the NOAA buoy nearby and it swore those waves I was seeing were under 2 foot. Seemed higher, based on how bumpy the ride was getting. But what do I know?
As we entered the Bay, we started slowing down. Now I’m aware that part of the energy is going into getting over the waves. But still: we slowed from 5 – 6 knots down to 3½ at full throttle. My boat can do 7 or 8 usually, so that was disheartening.
Of course, things started falling. Everything that wasn’t secured in the cabin was eventually on the floor. The girls were getting nauseous, so I told them to come up to the cockpit when they felt that way.
Mind you, my 5 and 7 year old granddaughters were troopers. They never panicked. They did ask about how bumpy it was getting and I told them the waves really weren’t that big. Note to self: we need to go to Virginia Beach and talk about really big waves.
When we reached the point where we past the shallows, I decided to do some sailing with just the jib and, to pick up some speed. It worked. Putting the jib out, we made 6.5 knots.
The waves were about 2 feet now, and stuff continued to fall. We were getting pretty far north of where we’re wanted to be, so I tacked. My speed immediately dropped back to about 3.5 knots. So I said to heck with it, brought in the jib, and just motored directly towards our destination.
And then the real fun began. I heard a big sounds, like metal scraping. I assumed something else had fallen below. When I looked towards the bow, however, I saw that one of my anchors had fallen in. I put the engine in neutral and went forward to tie off the anchor. I tried to pull it up. But between the wind and the waves, I couldn’t make it budge. I texted my friends and told them what happened, that we were probably stopped for the night. I called my husband, who asked if my Towboat insurance would help. I said we would be fine. The grandkids were ok and the boat could handle worse than this.
But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I should subject the grandkids to this adventure. So I used the app to call Towboat and asked them to send someone out.
While we wait for the Towboat, I heat up dinner for the grandkids, who are still fine. I tell them the boat now looks like their bedroom. My older granddaughter tells me they have paths through the mess in their bedroom to walk through.
My oldest is able to eat most of her dinner. The youngest isn’t that hungry; most of her plate is sacrificed to the wind gods as well. What she does eat is in the commode before morning.
The first boat that came out, I explained the problem and asked for help getting the anchor up. He said he wasn’t allowed on the boat, but he could lift it onto his boat so I could haul it in. He went to where the line entered the water, then, for some reason, moved closer to my boat. Then somehow, he got the line between his boat and his motor. Then started shouting at me to cut the line. I went below to get something, came back to the bow, and cut my anchor line.
Towboat guy then asked if I was ok to motor out, since he could only tow me at 2 knots. Since I’d be going downwind, I said, ‘yes’.
But the story doesn’t end there. Within 10 minutes of starting the engine, the warning light went off. I called Towboat guy back and he returned. I got out a boat hook to grab lines from him. He threw them to me on the windward side. I dropped the boat hook grabbing for them, and it fell in the water. I put the lines on the the two forward cleats. That took a bit of time in this weather.
Once I told them they were in place, he began to move forward. Then he called me saying the lines had wrapped around my keel, so let them loose.
Oh, forgot to mention: I have (had) 2 anchors. When I cut the line for the one, Mr. Towboat pulled the second, which had started falling, and put it on the wrong side roller. He told me to pull that one up and secure it. Couldn’t be done. I couldn’t move it over, and I couldn’t pull it any further up. So I just secured it above the water line.
Back to our story. Mr. Towboat is still yelling that I need to secure the other anchor and that one of his lines is still attached to my boat and if don’t release it, he’s just going to pull whatever it’s attached to. I can’t see any lines still attached and tell him so.
Now think about it. By throwing the lines to me on the windward side, there’s every possibility that one of them slid under the boat while I was trying to secure them.
Oh, second boat hook was lost pulling his line off my anchor. When I released the line, there was a strong tug on the boat hook and I couldn’t get it back. Two boat hooks and an anchor gone now.
Mr. Towboat tells me another boat is coming to tow me. He can’t move my big boat on this weather. And he wonders why a small craft advisory wasn’t put out.
My boat is 34′ long. 12′ wide. It’s not a ‘small craft’. I’ve looked it up. It’s sailed down to the Caribbean before, so it’s handled worse than this.
Back, again, to our story.
While we wait for the second Towboat, I send the girls to bed. I explain to my older granddaughter that their berth is the safest place to be: all the walls are padded and soft, and there’s nothing to fall in there. I cuddled with them for awhile and we read the book that my younger granddaughter created in class last week.
I go back above. I pull out a line and go forward again. I tie the line to the chain on the anchor, then secure it to the cleat. I lower the chain enough that I can move the anchor to the right roller. I release the line and pull the anchor up and secure it.
Mind you. This is all happening while the boat is rocking from side to side. And, of course, now it’s rocking more than it was. We are adrift and floating broadside to the waves and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not lowering another anchor and chancing losing it as well.
After about ½ an hour, I go to sit below and watch the girls. They are fast asleep. None of this is bothering them at all.
It takes about 2 more hours for the other boat to arrive. When they do, they tell me they can’t tow me to my home marina – too difficult to get through the narrow channel in this weather. They’ll take me to another marina tonight, then come in the morning to take me to my own marina.
Ah! A fact I forgot. I started this whole endeavor at about 2 in the afternoon. It’s now about 10 pm.
Anyway, new Towboat gets close enough that they can give me the lines on the leeward side (smart move, huh!). I attach them and we’re on our way – at 6 knots.
We finally get to the marina at about midnight. I thank the new Towboat folks. I pour myself a stiff drink, have some celery and hummus and go to sleep about 2 am.
The next morning, new Towboat folks come by. They ask me for the line from the other Towboat. I say I don’t have one. They say the first Towboat said he saw his line under my stern. I said I let the one line I saw still attached go. Sigh!
I’m towed back to my own marina. I tell the second Towboat I’m going to have my boat hauled out to see what may still be wrapped underneath, since I don’t want to start the engine until the mechanic is there. I hope I don’t find a line wrapped around my prop.
So…..
Lost my anchor. Lost 2 boat hooks. Lost my phone over the side when I was rearranging cushions through this. The engine has an issue. Oh, and the stove wouldn’t light in the morning.
Lessons learned? When I saw the stiff winds I’d be sailing in, I should have bowed out since I was carrying precious cargo. Or turned around when it got rough, since I’d be traveling downwind at that point. Or just stayed anchored since what we went through was no worse than what we’d have had just sitting in that one spot all night. The anchors should have had the type of tie-down usually reserved for hurricane weather.
But hey! When you go adventuring, you either have a good time or a good story. And this one was a doozy!
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