Treasures

Location: Undisclosed Cay, Abacos, Bahamas

Position: N 26 ?? W 076 ??

The Abacos, the northern island chain of the Bahamas, is mainly populated by descendants of English loyalists and their slaves who fled the American colonies during the revolution. Because of this there is more of a white population here than in other areas of the Bahamas. The Abacos is one of the more touristy areas, after Nassau, but that being said it's not really that touristy. We tend to try and stay with the more natural and less inhabited areas when we can, but that's not always possible.

Yesterday we went on our first beach-combing trip of the season on an almost uninhabited island, the location is secret. This is one of our favourite pastimes. On a good day we'll find sea beans, sea glass, or unusual shells, on a bad day we just get a lovely walk on a beach. Either way it's win-win!

Yesterday we really scored in the sea glass department. This was especially exciting as the whole time we were in the Western Caribbean we found no sea glass. Not even one tiny piece! Sea glass, as you may know, is broken pieces of glass which get swished around by the waves crashing them against the sand and causing them to get scuffed. The perfect piece of sea glass is a piece which has no shiny areas left on it. White, green and brown are the most common colours (think beer) so we always find more of them. Other 'prize' pieces are any other colour but especially blue, which is quite rare.

As you can see we did find a few pieces that were 'prize' but also came home with a golf ball. We found tons of sponge one of which we kept, and a cute piece of coconut that if painted could look like a monkey's head with a tuft of hair. You have to be imaginative... and what else are we going to do anyway. It's all about entertaining yourself and staying out of trouble right? Just like when we were kids.

What are we going to do with all this stuff?

Blue Water

Location: Green Turtle Cay, Abacos, Bahamas
Position: N 26 45.824 W 077 20.045

This Khronicle is about how beautiful the Bahamas are - no grounding reports, no boat job complaints, no whining!

Our boat jobs were complete, Rachel was all provisioned up, fueled up and ready to go. We finally set off from Lake Worth, Florida to cross to the Bahamas and had a delightful and, thankfully, uneventful trip. We fished (unsuccessfully, unfortunately), crossed the Gulf Stream and passed onto the Bahama Banks. The water goes from a depth of over 1,500 feet to 9 feet in the space of 20 minutes, a bit disconcerting, to say the least. Night fell and we traveled overnight across the banks. This was a bit nerve wracking in the pitch black in depths of only 8-14 feet (we draw 6 feet!), relying entirely on our electronic equipment for steering and depths. We have traveled this area before and the charts are very accurate, but after Hurricane Sandy had passed we weren't 100% certain!! Luckily nothing untoward happened. The moon rose at about 10:30 and we could see again. We were anchor down at 8:30 and all cleared in to the Bahamas before noon.

Now that we are back in the Bahamas we are filled with joy. We had nearly forgotten just HOW beautiful it is here. Our fist morning, as we traveled down the banks toward Green Turtle Cay (remember – “cay” is pronounced “key” here in the Bahamas), the sun was shining and the water, spectral in every shade of blue to green, was spectacular. It has been so long since we've been able to see the bottom in 20 feet of water! As the sun rose we looked out and remembered how much we love it here. A picture tells a thousand words so go to the blog and see for yourselves. We have been here now for 4 days and we just can't get enough of the sandy beaches, the friendly people and the oh-so-beautiful water.

Yesterday we went for our first snorkel in two years. Boy have we really missed this pastime! The water was cold but it was great to be swimming around the coral heads and re-acquainting ourselves with all our favourite fish. Mark tried spearfishing for lobster with no success, but who cares? We had a great time just swimming around looking at stuff.

It is phenomenally beautiful here. The people we meet are friendly and helpful. The friends we are with (new and old) are generous, clever, and quite enjoyable to be around. All these continue to draw us out here, wrenching ourselves away from our loved ones - who we miss, sometimes terribly. But sometimes, especially at times like these, it's all worth it. This is what it's all about.

Speechless,

Grounded

Location: Vero Beach, Florida
Position: N 27 39.725 W 080 22.384

We've been sailing for 13 years, owned Rachel for 8 years and have been cruising full time for over 5 years. In all that time we've been members of BoatUS, a boating association that offers reasonably priced unlimited towing insurance. This insurance offers free towing if you run aground, have engine problems etc. So far, knock on wood, we have never had to use it. That is until this month.

Within 4 days we grounded twice and both times we had to call Tow BoatUS and be towed off. We were in a hurry to get to Vero Beach to see an ailing friend (who we missed by one day and who sadly died the day before Christmas). Because we so wanted to see Bruce one last time, we were taking chances traveling through known shallow problem areas at low tide.

The first spot was just south of Fernandina Beach, Florida. In our log from last year when we transited the Amelia River at high tide we wrote “Several shallow spots. Do not travel through this area at anything less than mid-tide”. So we obviously were not thinking clearly. As we were approaching a turn, a passing boat told us we should keep way to the right of the channel. For some reason we decided to follow their advice and …...boom. We hit bottom. We rode up over a hump, then bumped into another one. So we ended up being stuck unable to go either forward or backward. Luckily it was only mud. A sailboat passed by us, about 25 feet further into the channel, and shouted “we're in 12 feet right here”. Great! We sat for a while but the tide was still going down so we would have been sitting there for at least 3 or 4 hours. Well, we were in a hurry and that's what we pay the insurance for, right? So we called and Captain Joe who came by and towed us off.

Then, three days later we were just south of Daytona Beach at Ponce de Leon Inlet, another known problem area. In these places the sands constantly shift so we called the local Tow BoatUS operator and asked for some local information. We were told we would be fine with our 6 foot draft except for at red marks 18 and 18A where we should favour the right side of the channel. Ok, great. We thanked him and headed down through this problem area. Everything was going fine. We had no problems and as we approached the 18 marks we stayed well over to the right side. Then.....bonk, we were aground. Again. Once again it was low tide but this time the wind was 20 knots from the side and it was pushing us further aground. Mark tried using the engine to get us off but the wind kept pushing us further onto the shoal. The boat was heeled over about 20 degrees and we kept feeling it bonk as we were pushed further onto the sand bar. Yikes!! We called Tow BoatUS and the guy that gave us the “advice” came to tow us off. He apologized and said that last week when he was there the right side was deepest. We were a bit skeptical about that statement – seems like that's an awful lot of shoaling in just a weeks time. Pretty good way of drumming up business just in time for Christmas, eh?

Today we thought that we might try going 56 miles from Vero Beach to Lake Worth, but due to the timing of a falling tide at a trouble spot between here and there we've decided to just go 10 miles to Ft Pierce today. Then we'll leave Ft. Pierce first thing tomorrow morning so we can get to the trouble spot near high on a rising tide. We're turning over an old leaf, being cautious and doing it the way we've always done it – slowly and carefully.

If the weather predictions hold we'll be heading over to the Bahamas sometime this week.

Merry Christmas

Location: Vero Beach, FL
Position: 27 39.738 N   080 22.358 W

We just wanted to wish everyone a very merry Christmas and a peaceful, happy, and fulfilling New Year.  We are aboard our "Rachel" in Vero Beach, FL. and will be here for Christmas.  We had hoped to be in the Bahamas by now, but various boat jobs needing attention before a prolonged voyage outside the US prevented that from happening.

on the beach

Reindeer cookies & gifts

Even though we'd rather be on our way sailing to the Caribbean, we are nonetheless looking forward to celebrating Christmas here in Vero.  Our solar powered LED Christmas lights are up and the stuffed moose head on the mast is decorated.  Tonight we'll begin our tradition of watching one of our old favorite Christmas movies each evening as the big day approaches.

Love to all,

Serenity

Location: South Santee River, SC
Position: N 33 08.978 W 079 19.308


In this bustling world we live in it's often hard to find a quiet place. Wherever you go there is noise, neon and over-stimulation. We, on Rachel, are lucky to have managed to escape from that, for the most part. Right now, in this serene spot, we are feeling especially thankful.

Containing some areas of “civilization”, America's Intracoastal Waterway is, for the most part, a wonderful natural and man-made aquatic highway. Just a few miles from the industry and naval ship yards of Norfolk, VA we entered the wilderness. Now, over 300 miles later, we are still a part of that wilderness.

 

This evening as the sun sets we sit in the cockpit looking out over the marsh grasses. The sky is ablaze with reds and oranges, birds skim over the water looking for their last feed of the day, a couple of guys sit quietly in a little fishing boat. Nowhere do we see neon signs, billboards, or buildings. Nor do we hear factories or planes or cars. We just sit and absorb ourselves into the serenity, the calming feeling of just being in this place. Physically and spiritually at peace.

We are so blessed to be able to enjoy this feeling on many nights and days. The ICW brings this especially close and more real. Not every day is like this but in the last 300 miles we have spent most days and most nights in spots just like this. The scenery is always different, the birds, grasses, trees, and flowers change, but the quiet......it's always there. We immerse ourselves into it and it warms our hearts.

Hunkered down, safe and sound

Location: Little River, SC
Position: N 33 51.706 W 078 38.271  

In case you didn't already know, there's a hurricane named Sandy traveling up the east coast of the US. We stopped in here to visit friends last Thursday and, given the size and projected path of the storm, decided to stay put tied to the floating docks at the marina until the storm passed.

We're doing fine. The marina is in a very protected basin so we're only seeing a fraction of the storm winds. Every once in a while a strong gust lays us over a bit, but we're feeling safe and secure. The worst is over now but unfortunately the hurricane is followed by a strong cold front so we'll be having windy and cold weather for the next few days.

Yesterday evening the buoy at Frying Pan Shoals off Cape Fear, NC, 30 miles from here, reported 42 gusting to 52 mph and 20 ft. waves with a 12 second interval. We're really, really glad we weren't out there!!

Stay safe and warm and dry out there,

It's show time!

Location: Annapolis, MD

Position: N 38 57.962 W 076 28.914

For the last month we've been hanging out in Annapolis, Maryland – one of the many 'Sailing Capital of the World'. October is boat show month here and we secured positions on the boat show staff. Sounds pretty exciting eh? Mark got certified as a fork lift driver and Julie's bookkeeping experience qualified her as a ticket seller. The whole gig was about 2 ½ weeks We helped set up the sail and power boat shows, worked both shows and then worked to strip the show back down.

For those who do not know, this show takes over the entire waterfront of downtown Annapolis and half of the harbor. Fences are erected around the exterior, huge sections of parking lots are covered with wooden flooring, and enormous tents put up. Then 50-some pilings are driven down into the mud and barges are towed in by boats and connected together to form a floating town which is filled with boats and more booths. Boats are brought in, bridges are built behind them, and more boats and barges are brought in. It was really something to watch the whole show emerge in just 3 days and it was very exciting to be part of such an amazing feat. And of course Mark had loads of fun zooming around on the forklift lifting things and putting them down.

 

We worked long hours but we had a great time and met a really great crowd of people. We were fed 3 meals a day and a lot of camaraderie developed as the days proceeded. It's been a fun and rewarding experience.

Today was our last day at work and tomorrow the winds will be from the north so we'll haul our anchors in the morning and start heading south, hoping to make tracks before the weather gets too cold.

Oh say can you sea

Location:  Sassafras River, Chesapeake Bay
Position:  N 39 21.895   W 075 58.887

Labor Day weekend. 

Cape Cod/Buzzards Bay area. 
 
For those of us who live on our boats and enjoy stopping in quiet, serene anchorages, these two just don't go together.  But that is where we are on the Thursday before the long weekend, the last fling of  summer in the US.   There is no way to escape the crowds and we are trying to decide our best plan of action for the weekend.  Our friends on Osprey and Celilo are going to make the jump down to the Chesapeake Bay but we aren't really prepared for a long trip.

But what the heck!!  What better place to spend the busy Labor Day weekend than out in the Atlantic Ocean?  It is a good weather window and with storms brewing down in the mid Atlantic, who knows when we'll get another opportunity?  At least we don't have to worry about crowded anchorages when we're offshore!

Mark prepares the boat, Julie cooks some passage food, the dinghy is stowed on deck, everything below is well stowed so it won't go flying around while we're underway.  After a flurry of activity  we suppose we're ready.  We all celebrate Mike on Celilo's, 60th birthday with mudslides (a very dangerous drink) ashore and a shared dinner aboard.  6am comes way too soon after a restless night, always the case before a passage, but we suck it up and haul anchor.

We head out into Buzzards Bay with good winds and a good forecast.  By 2:30pm we are passing Block Island, at the eastern end of Long Island.  We set a SW course for a straight shot in the Atlantic, a 230 mile leg.  The sails are set and our plan is to get to a waypoint at the bottom of the Delaware Bay at 4:30am on Monday, 38 hours from now, to catch the tide going up the Bay.  It's not pretty bucking an outgoing tide in the Delaware Bay, especially when the wind is southerly and against the current, which is what the weather gods were predicting.  For now, though, it's just a matter of sit back, enjoy the ride and make sure our timing is as close as possible.

The first night we're romping along on a broad reach at 7, sometimes 8 knots when, just after 9pm, we notice some fireworks off in the distance.  We watch them for over 30 minutes.  It is spectacular, an amazing display.  The thing that intrigues us is that we are 15 miles offshore, so the origin of the fireworks has to be at least that far, somewhere on Long Island AND we can hear the “whee...pow!!” as the fireworks rise and explode.  And we are upwind from the display.  Amazing.

The next night we are 8 miles off Atlantic City, NJ, a big gambling mecca, and we can see all the brightly lit hotels off in the distance.  We see another firework display, not nearly as spectacular but still a lovely surprise.

Around midnight we all decide that we are going to arrive too early so we adjust our sails to slow down - an intriguing and unusual process that we are not used to performing.

At 4:30am we are at our waypoint and enjoy a raucous trip up the bay with a 2.5 knot boost from the current.  At 12:30pm we pop into the Chesapeake Delaware Canal just as the current shifts to take us all the way through the canal and into the Chesapeake Bay.  We have the pleasure of sharing the Canal with an enormous car freighter from Oslo, it's as close as we'd ever want to be to anything that big.  We have to scoot way over to the side to give it room to pass.

As we exit the canal we run through a big thunderstorm with 30 knot winds and lightning striking way too close.  Welcome to the Chesapeake!  We work our way down the bay to the Sassafras River, drop the anchor, and have a good night's sleep.  It has been a long trip, 3 full days and 2 nights, but we were all glad to be back on the Chesapeake, home ground for all 3 boats, and glad to have the miles behind us.


Chilling in the Chesapeake

What a drag!

Location: Jewell Island, Maine
Position: N 43 41.286 W 070 05.455

Jewell Island is another picture perfect Maine Island made different by the fact that it was also a submarine spotting station during World War II. The remains, a couple of concrete watch towers over looking the Atlantic, bunker tunnels, and the remains of quite a few buildings, stand a lonely sentinel over the southern reaches of Casco Bay.

The anchorage here is a bit tight. It's shaped like a long, narrow “U” with rocks on both sides, shoal water ahead, and a narrow entrance to the north. It's also very popular so it can be a bit difficult to anchor without being on top of your neighbours.

As we arrive a large sailboat is just leaving, what luck! We slip right into his spot and drop the anchor. We're a bit closer than we'd like to our new neighbour behind us, but we are satisfied and have complete confidence in our anchor and our ground tackle. We should sit tight in anything less than a gale.

Jewell Island anchorage on a less busy day

The next day a smaller boat comes in and anchors right in front of us. A bit close for our taste, but not too bad. Mark has some chores to do in the basement (under the cockpit), so he takes Julie ashore for a walk, then proceeds to haul everything out into the cockpit so he can get at what he's working on. Both seats, the cockpit sole, everything is covered with the stuff we stow in the basement when it's not in use. Lines, buckets, oil change pumps, storage boxes full of various stuff, all conspire to completely clutter the cockpit. The big lazerette hatch is wide open and Mark is busily doing whatever it is that he does down there in that cavernous, yet tiny space.

Julie has a lovely walk ashore and when she returns calls Mark on the VHF to come and get her. She notices the new boat is a bit closer than it was so she tells Mark to stop by and tell them on his way in. Mark clambers out of the basement and sees the boat heading toward us – but no one's on deck! He hops in the dinghy to let them know. He hears a “Holy shit!” and they both pop up. She starts the engine, he starts hauling up the anchor by hand. “The anchor is caught on something – I can't haul it up.” he says. Mark says “you could be caught on our chain. Just sit tight – don't do anything until I get back with my wife. We'll haul our anchor and get it all sorted out. You just keep still and fend off if necessary.” He rows in quickly and picks up Julie.

While Mark is picking up Julie (a two minute trip each way), another boater has dinghied over to the smaller boat to help them. In our absence, they have decided to put their anchor rode on one of their winches to help them haul it up. As we arrive back aboard Rachel they've succeeded in lifting their anchor out of the water and, sure enough, our chain is caught on it. Unfortunately, their little exercise has also managed to pull our anchor loose in the process. So much for waiting until we got back like Mark asked!!

Now both boats are starting to drift back onto the boat behind Rachel. The smaller boat is still attached to Rachel by our anchor chain and their crew is starting to freak out!! We see what is happening and rush back to Rachel. Julie leaps aboard, grabs a boat hook, and fends the other boat off while Mark secures the dinghy, fights his way through all the basement stuff in the cockpit and gets the engine started. By now we're only about 15 feet from the boat behind us and closing. Mark motors slowly forward and that disaster is averted.

Julie suggests to the crew of the other boat (in no uncertain terms!!) that they would be well served to post one of their member to focus their energy on keeping our two boats from bashing into each other while we get things sorted out. Meanwhile, Mark has been leaping back and forth (still over all the basement junk in the cockpit) between the helm and the port side of the boat where he is intermittently fending the other boat off and tying on fenders to protect Rachel while keeping us all from drifting any further back.

Up on the bow, Julie is letting out more chain to take the tension off their anchor. Finally the small boat is able to unhook and drop our chain from their anchor. Now that they are free, they again start to drift......once again right towards Rachel. “Fend off” Julie shouts. She's on the bow madly getting the anchor up so that Mark can maneuver away. Finally the anchor comes off the bottom, Julie signals Mark “she's up” and he steers out into open water. Phew.

The little boat moves further up into the anchorage to reset their anchor. Rachel is finally anchored slightly ahead of her original spot with some extra chain out, and we can now relax and take a deep breath. Phew!!! Is it cocktail time, yet?

But wait! The cockpit is still full of 'stuff'! Poor Mark still has his boat jobs to finish, then has to re-stow the basement when he's done.

What a drag!

Musings From Maine

Location: Somes Harbor, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

Position: 44 21.699 N 068 19.665 W

Tuesday, 10 July

The Goslings, Casco Bay, Maine

A week ago we were leaving the Chesapeake Bay. Today we're in Maine. How things change when we're cruising! This time we moved our home and traded 100 degree days and afternoon thunderstorms for crystal clear blue skies, chilly mornings, and daytime temperatures in the 80s.

Maine is a special place. Morning coffee in wooly jumpers and sweat pants just after daybreak at 05:30. Chilly, calm, peaceful.

A blue heron flies by and Mark is transported back in time. Gathering driftwood logs, boards, and lobster warp from the rocks to make rafts. Running around the islands almost flying from step to step, rock to rock (not much chance of that now <g>). Wearing raggedy old sneakers, up to his knees in mud digging for clams with his dad. Heading out on the “Sylvia Jo” in the the fog, wearing oil skins and hip boots, to check Uncle Ned's lobster traps. Swatting mosquitoes while hiding under the cottage, waiting to be found during a game of “Border Patrol”. And most of all, generally messing about in small boats. 

Always restless, ever seeking new experiences, the seeds of his desire to go cruising were sown right here in Casco Bay.



buying lobster in Cundy's Harbor

Roberta holding lobsters just before 'the feast'

 



Awash in memories, he notices several small ducks floating on the surface not far from Rachel. They slowly paddle together into a flock, then within seconds of each other, they dive. A minute or so later they begin popping up, scattered about, wherever their hunting has taken them. Then they leisurely gather back together again and repeat the process.

Like these ducks, we cruisers also tend to flock together to chat, socialize, and share our experiences. When it's time, we dive off, chasing our own personal muses and searching out our own personal experiences. When we surface again, we see other boats on the horizon, are drawn together to socialize and share, and the process begins again.

Sunday, 15 July

East Boothbay

We're in East Boothbay on a mooring visiting family for a week. We're all staying most nights at Mark's cousin's cottage with Mark's mom, uncle Bill, cousin Kitty, and uncle Bill's helper, Peggy. It's almost like summer camp for old folks. Our crisp, sunny days have evolved into foggy, cool, damp mornings opening back up into sunny afternoons. We're spending lots of time on the porch looking out at the ocean. With 10 foot tides the view changes constantly. We watch kids playing on the pebble beach, swimming in the COLD sea, kayakers paddling by, schooners full of tourists out for sightseeing trips, lobstermen hauling their traps. It is almost like being on Rachel except we're the ones on land looking out at the boats instead of the other way round.

Mark's 97 yr old uncle Bill (a.k.a. “Guppy”) says “I remember my first Harley Davidson motorcycle. It was a tired old thing. The front hub was so worn the tire used to rub against the front forks.” This was followed by several minutes of reminiscing about the various Harley and Indian motorcycles (and their associated mechanical problems) he owned when he was younger.

This first one was apparently inherited from a friend at high school. The friend asked if he could walk his newly acquired, heavily worn motorcycle over to Guppy's so Guppy could tow it with his old Ford to see if they could get it started. They towed and towed to no avail. His friend finally gave the motorcycle to Guppy and left in disgust. The next day another friend came over and found that the valve and ignition timing were both way out. Together, they made the correct adjustments and were able to get it started with it's own kick starter. He then proceeded to “ride that thing into the ground”.

The stories continue and, as always, are punctuated and made more poignant by Guppy's warm wit, sweet disposition, gentle manner and boyish giggles.

This afternoon Nat Wilson brought his 1915 Hereshoff wooden sailboat down the river to the mooring right next to us. This is a rare and extremely beautiful classic wooden sailboat. There aren't many of these around and the view from Rachel's cockpit is vastly improved by it's presence. Then we realize that this 21 foot sailboat and Uncle Guppy are the same age - and they're both true classics.

August 8

Thompson Cove, Deer Island, Maine


Owls Head lighthouse

Wow, we've been here a month now, time has really flown.


Seals in Seal Bay, Vinalhaven

During this visit to Maine, we've sailed past and enjoyed looking at hundreds of small islands. Their pine- and fir-topped rocky shores peek up out of the sea, seemingly offered up like rocky cup cakes for us to enjoy. We have managed to get ashore most days for walks (at times more like clambering) around the rocky shore to circumnavigate an island, walk through a town, or climb a mountain. And, of course, many of the wildflowers are in bloom, painting the landscape with their colors and adding their delicate aromas to our walks.

61 boats attended the Seven Seas Cruising Assoc. gam in Islesboro

We've watched loons swim by and listened out for their distinct and haunting calls echoing off the cliffs. We've seen seals cavort in the water and sun themselves on the rocks. Barking at each other, they plop into the sea then hump and bump their way back on the ledges. And we saw another whale – a minke this time, we think.

We've hung out with old friends, made new friends, and spent time by ourselves - it's been a perfect balance. 

Our lives are rich beyond measure.

 



Seguin lighthouse

Taking a break after hiking all the trails on Seguin Island

View of Camden from the top of Battie Mtn.
good job there was an artists depiction of what we were looking at!!



 busy Camden harbor without the fog




Sunset behind a schooner anchored beside us