hoisting the sails

A week ago I took the boat out for a day cruise with friends. The plan was simply going to be a repeat of the cruise two weeks prior: motoring up to Whitehall Bay and dropping the hook for a few hours before motoring back to Eastport. I felt that with several friends aboard I would be able to dock her and have friends fend us off and handle lines as necessary. I jury-rigged a nav station at the helm by taping a car phone holder to the pedestal so we could use the Navionics chart plotter on my iphone. I loaded up charts on my laptop in PolarView as a backup.

Before heading out I wanted to take advantage of an offer to go aloft to install a Windex wind indicator atop the mast and check the sheave for the jib halyard, (I want to replace the wire cable halyard with line and need to make sure the sheave is smooth and won't cut the line). My friend Dave brought two climbing harnesses. Mike was the grinder on the winch to hoist Travis up, while Dave belayed in case of a fall. Travis likely would have climbed right up like a tree frog, but I'm glad he agreed to wear the safety harness; I wouldn't want to see him get hurt and wouldn't want the two eight-year-old girls along for the cruise to see someone go splat on the deck. I definitely want to learn to go up the mast for myself. And many thanks to Travis for going aloft for me!

We motored out of Back Creek and before I knew it, Travis was preparing sails to be hoisted. I explained I hadn't planned on sailing her today and that the jib sheets were actually in the trunk of my car. He just grabbed some spare docklines off the rail and used them for one jib sheet we'd need to run to the other side when tacking or jibing. So, before I knew it Ambrosia's sails had been hoisted underway for the first time since I bought her.

My intended destination of Whitehall Bay would be a lengthy cruise under sail because it was pretty much dead upwind. We headed across the Bay toward Kent Island a while with the intention of tacking and heading back across toward Whitehall Bay. Everyone was a little nervous when Travis announced he was going below for a nap and leaving us to sail her ourselves. I had only had one half-day sailing lesson, but gratefully my friend Lane also knew enough to generally keep us out of trouble. While I was below somehow our remaining crew managed to do a few 360s with the boat, but no one was hurt during accidental jibes and everyone just seemed pleased to be out enjoying the Bay.

We eventually chose to just head to a simpler destination south off Bay Ridge and drop the hook for lunch, swimming, and fishing. With that downwind target, we even ended up sailing a little bit wing-and-wing--with the jib out to one side and the main out to the other. At some point we got up to 5 knots, not exactly flying, but just right for a relaxing sail with friends.

We got her docked without incident. Unfortunately the jib is a hot mess on the furler because I think the "spinny thing" (that's a highly technical sailing term) was supposed to go to the top but is shackled to the furling drum. I need a calm day to unfurl the jib, drop the sail, and rehoist it with the head of the sail attached to the "spinny thing." And though I'll still be a committed barefoot sailor because it gives better traction and warning of impending slips, I did manage to smash my pinky toe into the pump out fitting and bleed all over the deck. My toe was a painful mess for several days but now seems to be healed up alright. Poor Hunter puked twice, but then found a low hiding place and curled up there for the duration. Max tends to lay on the settee looking a little loopy. I sure hope they both get their sea legs soon.

All-in-all a great day on the water and good times and plenty of tequila once back ashore. I'm thankful for all my friends here in the Annapolis area, and glad that life afloat lets me meet new kindred spirits. And I can't help it, I have a weakness for floppy hair, it's in my nature. (And don't worry, that's not "the floppy-haired sailor guy;" when I said game over on that one, I meant it.) Travis wisely told the two eight-year-old girls never to fall in love with a sailor because he's here one day, and gone the next. It's true and good advice for shore-based folks to follow. As for me, I can't imagine being with anyone tied down to land...I need a guy who understands why I live aboard, who wants to cruise away and chart our own course in life wherever and however we please. As one friend said when I was left behind last fall...next time I'll be the one cruising away leaving some guy crying on the docks. Indeed. I certainly won't be waiting around to find a sailmate and soulmate; you never find love when you're looking for it. You bump into it when it's least expected. Until then, all I need is my anchor and sails, for they will set me free.

dropping the hook

I put together a crew of friends for a little cruise on Saturday. I'm still shopping around and deciding on the new running rigging, but needed to burn through old diesel so a trip under power was needed anyway. The last time the boat had gone out, five months ago, it took an hour to start the engine so I was worried about whether it would start up easily or give me fits. I had poured some cetane enhancer in the fuel tank on Thursday to increase our chances of an easy start. Between the warm weather and the cetane enhancer the engine must have been happy and started up on the first try. The tide was going down and already rather low, so we pulled ourselves out of the slip with the lines and then off we went.

I set my Navionics chart app to record our track. The 5.7 nautical mile outbound trip took two hours. Here is our course in Google Earth. My phone was acting fritzy on the return, probably had overheated in the sun, so we used a friend's Polar Navy chart app and paper charts for the return trip.

I like the Navionics but it is frustrating that it will only give me a North up display. A course up display is much more intuitive for me. I also wish it provided distance rings. The Polar Navy app showed two concentric circles, one about one nautical mile from our current location and another about two nautical miles out. The Polar Navy app seemed to work on my friend's iPhone, but when I bought the app it wouldn't even load the charts and there was absolutely no support provided by the developers, so I deleted the app and got a refund. I don't want to be overly dependent on a chart plotter, but it does make things so much easier.

I went very slowly coming out of the creek. I get nervous around lots of other boats because I can't stop or turn on a dime and you never know whether other boaters are drunk, stupid, or both. But I am definitely getting a better sense of which boats are a concern on my course and which will pass well before our courses intersect.

The pup dog is scared to walk on the decks when we are docked. She tends to put her nails out and instead of gaining traction she ice skates. But as soon as the lines are off, she forgets how scared she was and usually runs up and down the side decks to look at the water, birds, and the passing scenery. This trip was no different, but she did get a surprise when running up the port side deck and losing her footing as we got rocked by someone's wake. She apparently was splayed out and lucky not to have gone overboard. A friend went up and sat beside her and before too long she forgot about the stumble and had her sea legs again.

It was a different story for the cats. Although the cats had been on short trips across Back Creek and out into the Severn River, they had never been out into the Bay. The boat was rocking a good deal from all the wake of passing powerboats on a busy day on the water. I heard Hunter crying (yelling at me, really). When we arrived at Whitehall Bay and I asked a friend to see how much anchor rode was in the anchor locker and whether it was tied to anything in the locker; he returned and let me know that the cats had puked and pooped all over. On the bed. On the settee. On the cabin sole. In the galley. The largest mess was a puddle of puke on the bed where one of the cats must have projectile vomited Exorcist-style. Whether it was all from Hunter or from Max, too, I still don't know how that much stuff came out of those small creatures. Max was actually cat-napping most of the time on the settee and didn't look stressed at all. Hunter, on the other hand, pretty much Velcro-ed himself to the cabin sole and didn't want to budge. Poor seasick kitty. I think he'll eventually get used to it. Fingers crossed.

We anchored in Whitehall Bay for a few hours. I ceded the helm to Dave so I could go forward and get a lesson on anchoring from Phil. This was the first time dropping the hook on Ambrosia. Once the anchor was set we toasted with mimosas and then it was time for lunch. I brought an assortment of Mediterranean-style nibbles for our picnic afloat: grapes, nuts, stuffed grape leaves, Kalamata olives, mixed olives tossed with feta, fresh mozzarella, orzo with baby spinach, fusilli with olives and mozzarella, french bread, red sangria I had made, and a couple bottles of Santola vinho verde from Portugal.

The trip out was cloudy and gray, and it looked like rain was coming. But somehow as soon as we anchored the skies were blue and the water was glassy. An afternoon of swimming, kayaking, fishing, and just relaxing aboard.

Now I finally have some photographs of Ambrosia away from the dock. And, yes, we cruised along with my Cypress Adirondack chair on the bow.

Navigating the crab pots that are scattered everywhere was a little more difficult at dusk, but we were treated to a beautiful sunset cruise home.

I had wanted to handle the boat from start to finish, but in the tight and shallow quarters of my small marina, I just couldn't manage to back her into the slip. In theory it's a nice three-point turn and using a bow or spring line to pivot off a piling into the slip. But she doesn't handle as easily in reverse and I became too nervous about hitting adjacent boats, so I asked my friend Phil to help dock her. I was disappointed that I didn't do it myself, but docking takes a lot of practice and I otherwise handled her well for our cruise. A great day on the water with friends.

leaves

Two nights ago when I got home I saw leaves scattered all over the water in the marina. It's early August yet and the air conditioning is still cranking pretty much 24/7, but leaves on the water made me feel fall is right around the corner. And then winter. And the terribly low tides that trap me in the slip and make it exceedingly difficult for the pup dog to get on and off the boat.

Where has the year gone? A year ago I was just beginning my boat shopping and was about to start this blog. I've survived winter aboard and a variety of challenges, but feel so behind on boat projects, boat handling, and sailing. I'm planning on taking a five-day basic keelboat course and certification in September, which should go a long way toward increasing my confidence in hoisting the sails and casting off the lines. But in the meantime, the poor boat hasn't been out in five months! The last cruise aboard was a windy, snowy day in March when friends helped me motor across the creek to get the holding tank pumped out.

So I lit a fire under myself and organized a group of friends to take the boat out this weekend. I had hoped to get some running rigging replaced in time for us to make it a sail, but it looks like that will take a little longer. (I really ought to have someone climb the mast and check that the sheave for the halyard is smooth and in good condition so the new halyard won't get hung up or chafed.) But I need to burn through all the old, stale diesel in the tank, so a motoring cruise serves a very useful purpose, too. Fingers crossed for good weather tomorrow and a high enough tide to get into the slip when we return.

Yesterday marked yet another addition to the fleet: a liquid logic kayak.

I saw the post on craigslist and was skeptical because I hadn't seen any kayaks listed for less than $400, and usually more. The sellers were a family who just finished a two-year cruise beginning in San Francisco and ending here in Annapolis. It was just one less thing they'd have to worry about taking home on the plane, so they decided to go ahead and sell it. At $150 it was an amazing deal! Included with the kayak (about $800 new) was a carbon-fiber paddle, helmet, PFD, spray skirt, and flotation bags. It's really designed for white water river kayaking, but will be great for me to bar- and marina-hop around. It's shorter, only weighs 39 pounds, and has enough room that I can stow a bag with eats and drinks by my feet. Thanks DoolittleCruising! For this gal on a serious budget, this was such a great find, will be put to good use, and proof to me that good boat karma counts.