all wrapped up

Mike and Jen helping fix the inside-out jib.

A little over a week ago I was planning a nice day cruise with friends. It would have to be shorter than usual due to the need to time the tides, and no one would want to go swimming in the 60 degree water, but it would still be a nice, crisp, sunny day for a sail. A lot of preparation was needed to get the boat ready to go, both because of loose items on deck and inside, and because the roller furler for the jib still needed to be rationalized. Mike, Jen, and I spent a good three hours getting her ready to go. I'd had a couple of experienced sailors not get the jib set up quite right, so we needed to unfurl it and figure out how to get the line to furl it in the right direction. It had kept wrapping inside-out. My jib has a wide blue border which when the sail is furled provides UV protection to extend the life of the sail. We needed to get enough line wrapped on the furling drum and then have the drum spin in the correct direction so that the cover would be on the outside. A few times unfurling and furling the jib and Jen used her geometry skills to figure it out for us. She may not be a sailor (yet), but she's smart and determined, which is exactly what we needed to fix the problem.

I had realized in an "a-ha!" moment back in September that the reason the jib wasn't trimming properly to sail upwind was that we were using the wrong blocks for the jib sheets. Prior trips out the jib sheets had been run through turning blocks just aft of the winches in the cockpit. To get a tighter angle on the sail to head upwind, we needed to first run the sheets through blocks farther forward. Those blocks have been shackled to some anchor chain up at the bow, likely for safe keeping when the prior owners traded her in. We shackled those blocks to cars on the jib tracks that run along the top of the toe rail on either side of the boat. I've heard that I can get horn cleats that will run on the jib track, which would be much easier for tying my spring lines rather than running the (very long) spring lines through the cars. I would also like to add cam cleats inside the cockpit below the winches as they will be easier for me to manage when singlehanding. The wish list never stops growing it seems.

The dinghy dock high and dry.

With the sails in order we secured the pets below and started the engine. In the cold fall weather it took a few tries to get her to turn over. In the summer she always started on the first go. Diesels just don't like the cold it seems. But we got her running. A couple of hours before high tide the depth sounder said 5 feet. I draw almost five, and the depth alarm beeps incessantly at 5.2 and below. We were now at high tide but when I turned the depth sounder back on we were in 4.4 feet of water. Three days of steady NW winds were blowing water out of the bay, so although the tide was coming in, the water level had continued to fall. We tried pulling her out of the slip on the lines. I tried gunning the engine, which probably just dug us deeper into the mud. After all that preparation, the sails finally in order, our day sail was hard aground. I repeatedly apologized to Mike and Jen but they were great sports and we just hung out in the cockpit and had drinks before strolling down to the pub for a late lunch.

The trip out wasn't only going to be a pleasure cruise, however. The harbormaster's pump out boat has been out of service awaiting a part and my holding tank was full. I also had no idea how much fuel was in the tank and it is best to keep the tank full over the winter to minimize condensation. I do have facilities at my marina and they are not far from my slip, but trust me when I tell you it isn't ideal to have to bundle up, climb up on the pier during a low tide, and run to the head at 3AM. Add rain or snow to the mix and it's even less fun. With the tank full that also means there is sewage sitting in the hoses; over time it will permeate the hose and make the boat very stinky. So, getting over to the fuel dock for a pump out was a priority.

My furry crew can't seem to handle a boat hook.

Midweek I popped by the pub for lunch to see if I might find someone willing to take a little cruise across the creek with me. I probably can handle taking her over by myself just fine, but because my docking situation is a little tight I am more comfortable having someone to help fend me off other boats or pilings while docking. I didn't manage to find anyone at lunchtime but went back about 3PM (circa high tide and the beginning of happy hour). The guy I asked for help initially chided me that I should be able to do it myself without help, but when I mentioned I had a cooler of beer aboard he agreed to come along for the ride. He's an old salt and knows his stuff, so he barked at me a bit for being trepidatious around other boats. He did give me some good tips though to keep moving between gears in short bursts to kick the boat in one direction or another and keep good control over her while docking or waiting to approach the fuel dock. I was surprised to only take 7.4 gallons of fuel. I put some cetane enhancer in before filling her up, but wish I had had stabilizer to add. Now I have the stabilizer, but might need to use up a little fuel to make room for it in the tank. This winter I really have to be diligent about starting the engine once a week to keep her happier, especially if I will have to take her out to find pump out facilities. The harbormaster's office said they will run the pump out boat on Saturdays through the winter, but I'm not exactly holding my breath since they don't even have the boat running at all right now.

My huge, sturdy, lightweight IKEA bag is great for laundry.

After the little cruise across the creek I resigned myself to an evening of laundry. There is free parking at one of the local laundromats, but that one is definitely the kind of place I worry about someone stealing something. Although parking is a nightmare downtown, I still head to the laundromat on Maryland Avenue, which is clean, uncrowded, and I don't worry as much about someone stealing my panties. Although Galway Bay is a pricey watering hole, it is directly across the street from the laundromat so I generally have a pint there and just run across the street to put items in the dryer et cetera. I managed to knock out three loads of laundry in an hour and only drink one pint of Magner's Cider. When I first walked into Galway, a guy stopped me and asked "Was that your plan all along?" I looked at him quizzically. "Was it your plan to put your laundry in and then come here and drink while you wait?" he asked. They seemed to think that was a humorous, but sound, strategy. It does make the whole laundry day experience a little more pleasant, though I would still prefer to have laundry right at my marina.

I tried to get the dog to dress up for Halloween but she wanted nothing to do with it. Myself, I was a corpse bride. I think next year I will wear the gown but have day of the dead makeup. It'd be really nice to have a whole group in that theme or at least have a skeleton groom to complement my costume. The party at Davis' was fun and then I met up with friends for dinner at Vin 909. I had to work the next morning, so I couldn't make it a late night, but it was certainly better than last Halloween.

Winter aboard is here in full force. I definitely need to add a heated mattress pad for the v-berth. The oil-filled radiator is warm, but even with a couple of fans going I am not getting the heat evenly circulated throughout the boat and the salon remains much warmer--perhaps by ten degrees--than the stateroom. I don't really mind bundling up to sleep with flannels, thick socks, a sweatshirt, and hat, but that isn't exactly a sexy nightie and it isn't exactly romantic when an overnight guest is shivering. Now you know the secret to my youthful appearance: the meat-locker temperature of the stateroom is like being cryogenically preserved every night. Just kidding... it's that 45+ sunblock, being a non-smoker, chipmunk cheeks, and being young at heart.

Perhaps the mattress pad should be a reward if I ever manage to clean up the interior of the boat! I have had her in a pretty good state at points, but the last flurry of cleaning and organizing was interrupted half-way, so now piles of clothes, kitchenware, and tools are stacked in every available space. I pulled everything out so I could clean and organize storage lockers, but now I am just buried under stuff. Then came moving out of the office, so more stuff came aboard and my car is packed to the brim. I need to get groceries today but there is no where in the car to put a 30 lb. bag of dog food much less any of the other groceries. I have sold, thrown away, or given away probably 90% of my worldly possessions, but let's face it: I still have too much stuff!

I have been storing pots, pans, and food in the cubbies behind the settee and the dinette but am now rethinking that approach. Because dog hair seems to get everywhere in the boat (sigh), I end up having to re-wash all the items stored in those cubbies before I can use them. I also cannot use all the space in those cubbies because I need clearance to lift pots and pans in and out. I am considering using one of the cabinets that currently houses clothes and shoes for the pots and pans, and storing off-season clothing and extra bedding and towels in the cubbies. Then I can fill them all the way up and they will act as insulation against the hull. The problem is those cubbies are prone to terrible condensation because they are against the hull, though it is not as bad now that they are all lined with Reflectix insulation. So, if I put soft goods there instead of pans I have to protect them from the moisture lest they be soaking wet and moldy. I may get oodles of zip-lock bags and/or space bags so items will stay dry. I just have to buckle down, find a few days I can set aside, and tackle the organizing head on. I need to get to it before too long so I can have friends over for cozy dinners aboard and "special cocoa" with peppermint schnapps and baby marshmallows.

I'll leave you with this: Max thinks the top of the dodger is a groovy hammock. Silly cat.

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.

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.

bruised but not broken

Now the bruises have really come out. Black and deep purple. Large ones and small ones. Smaller ones dot along the inside of my right arm, and a light but painful one on my left forearm. A huge black one about 5" by 1" beside my knee distracts from many others along my leg. On the left side of my midsection it looks like someone punched me in the ribs. And centered at the small of my back a small but very dark bruise. We'll see how long these mementos of Thursday Night Races linger, having been tossed back and forth, bouncing off winches for two-and-a-half hours. Not my idea of fun.

Initially, I wanted to shake it off and hope for a better experience next Thursday. But my precious few days off need to be focused on making progress aboard and enjoying myself. I think I'll focus on saving up to replace a few pieces of the running rigging so I can get my own vessel under sail. I've been urged to do so before the much gustier winds of September and October arrive.

So, the port tube on the dinghy is once again deflated. I rushed the job because I generally prefer to work on these projects on my own. But now I will take the time to pull up the prior patches, remove the current adhesive, and use Hypalon contact cement a friend is donating to the cause. I'll have to hope for a day that the weather and my work schedule are both clear. The GFlex epoxy on the bottom of the dink may have sealed up some holes, so I still need to check that and plan for patching the others on the bottom as well. The remaining GFlex should work well on the threshold of the companionway; I just have to find a day I can leave the boat open for the 7 to 10 hour cure time.

The hard sailing dinghy had been in the water since January, so I seized an opportunity to get a dockmate to help me pull her out of the water. He volunteered to scrape the barnacles, so I wasn't exactly going to say no.

She was immaculate when given to me, so I feel bad that she looks so rough now. But I couldn't have undertaken some of my projects without her. I just wish the dingy dock at the marina did not have the owner's dink somewhat permanently on it, otherwise it would be far easier to drop her back in the water now and again to practice sailing with her.

I don't know what is in the new propane tank that was supposed to be purged, but so far I have not had any problems with cooking and baking. Yesterday I made cheesy garlic biscuits, yum.

I had three biscuits left, sealed in a ziploc bag on the galley counter. Breakfast for this morning. When I got up I found an empty ziploc bag, cleanly sliced open, on the cabin sole. Apparently, as I slept some sneaky cats stole my biscuits! I'm not sure if the dog was in on it, I would usually wake up from her jumping off and on the bed, but only Hunter is sneaky enough to have stolen the bag off the countertop. Well, at least I got two-thirds of the batch.

taking inventory

The past several days have been busy! Saturday was a bit of a milestone, having pulled out all the sails for the first time. My friend Phil from Sublime Sustenance came over to help me take inventory of my sails, evaluate my running rigging, and help me understand what all the running rigging does. The heat was brutal, but Phil cheerfully spent almost three hours helping me pull sail bags from the depths of the lazarette, lay the sails on the lawn, fold them back up, hoist and lower the jib at least three times because there's something hinky going on with the roller furler, and hoist the main.

Among the discoveries: The main has two sets of reefing points. The metal jib halyard is beginning to split in places and needs replacement. The sheet for the furler is badly worn and needs replacement. Although I do have jib sheets hung on the rail, they look rather tired and will likely also be replaced. (Ouch, all this line is gonna cost me!) Some sail bags were marked as having a 100% jib and a Genoa, but both turned out to be back-up mainsails. The one in better condition I marked as back-up number one. The other may also stick around as a back-up, but when I get around to learning my way around my sewing machine it may become sail bags or a harbor shade. I also have a storm trysail, which looks to be in new condition, and an anchor riding sail for life on the hook. There were no sail ties to be found, and several of the bungee cords being used as sail ties gave up the ghost once unhooked. (So I have a good excuse to buy pretty brightly-colored sail ties at boat show in October.) And the big blocks on the toe rail appear to be placed for a spinnaker, so I will likely need to buy additional ones to install for the jib sheets.

Even though we didn't cast off the lines, it was good to evaluate the sails, know what I have, and what I need to get. That's the first step to taking her out under sail, hopefully sooner than later.

Monday I tried to row over to Port Annapolis to visit a friend and hang out by the pool. I had to begin by bailing out the dinghy, which was half full of water from a few days of torrential downpours. When I shoved off and tried to get underway I discovered the oars are too long. Previously, I had only rowed the dink with friends, so each of us could take an oar and one would sit forward, the other aft. Rowing solo, when I extended the oars to grab each by the handle and not have them crossed, the oars did not want to lift back out of the water after each row. I had to abandon rowing and just use one oar to paddle as if in a canoe. What a chore! The wooden oar was heavy to repeatedly lift from one side of the bow to the other, and the current simply wanted to push me back from whence I came. I made it, but was very glad to just get a dink hop home with my friends towing my dink behind us.

Tuesday was my first real sailing lesson. Well, I took some lessons many moons ago at Community Boating in Boston, but quickly met an instructor who would just take me out on the bigger keel boats and heel us over dramatically. Let's just say it was all flirting and no learning. So, yesterday I headed to the other end of Eastport and had a 3-hour "TrySail" lesson at J World. It was a LivingSocial deal I couldn't pass up, and for the basics getting started it's usually better not to let your dad, boyfriend, or close friends teach you to drive. The class can be up to four people but I lucked out and got a one-on-one lesson. Because I already know most of the equipment terminology we were able to jump quickly to points of sail and understanding wind direction, and got away from the dock pretty quickly.

I was a little surprised to be at the helm from the outset. The instructor did all the sail trim, but only took the helm a couple of times when we got in tight quarters and needed to act very quickly. I was very nervous about how far heeled over we were but the instructor promised me that even if we put the sail flat on the water at 90 degrees, the keel would pop us back up. We came out of Back Creek, sailed around the Severn River, went into Annapolis Harbor, and then reversed course to return to Back Creek. Most of the time was spent heeled over, at times even burying the rail. At one point the instructor noted how much more comfortable I'd gotten with how much we were heeled; I didn't tell him I was keeping my eyes on the tell tales and on my course so I wouldn't look down and notice the gunwale grazing the waves!

I have no sense of direction and often can't even get right and left correct. So the points of sail and judging wind direction was something I was prepared to be mostly awful at. There wasn't much wind at the dock, but once out in the river it kicked up quite a bit. The instructor's tips for finding the wind and knowing when you are directly into the wind, both by judging the wind on your face and by the reaction of the sails, were very helpful. By the end of the lesson I could tell him accurately whether we were close hauled or on a run and had started making adjustments on my own when the tell tales started lagging.

One regret of the day is that when I headed out in the morning I was running late and forgot my phone. It's not that I needed to make any calls, but it would have been cool to turn on my Navionics app and track my course tacking and gybing through Annapolis Harbor and all. So, next time I have to remember to do that!

Although I am glad to get a good lesson under my belt and look forward to going out and becoming a competent sailor, it is still a mode of transportation to me, not an end in itself. I know how to drive, but I don't "enjoy" driving. Driving is simply something necessary in life to conveniently get to places one wants or needs to go. I want to go to far away and interesting places without breaking the bank on diesel, therefore, I need to be able to sail and be able to singlehand my boat. And whether under power or under sail, I will gradually build my seamanship knowledge and skills (which, sadly, are already better than some more experienced boaters I encounter). I would jump right in and do the 5-day basic keelboat course if I had an extra thousand dollars laying around, but I don't. Although racing culture is not my thing, it is a free way to get more experience, so perhaps I'll start signing up to crew for J World's Thursday night races.

In other news... a little update on the air conditioning situation during this brutal heat wave. Although my air conditioning blows cold, the V-berth is always 5 or 10 degrees warmer than the salon. I've tried various and multiple fans both in the V-berth and to pull cool air from the salon and blow it into the V-berth. Nonetheless, I toss and turn with it too warm to sleep comfortably, when only 6 feet away the salon is 70 degrees. Yesterday I picked up a small Vornado fan, which is supposed to create whole-room circulation due to the particular design of the blades et cetera. Vornados are about double the cost of other fans the equivalent size, but I decided it was worth a try. Well, within a few hours the V-berth was cooled off to the point I actually needed to sleep under a blanket! It seems to be pulling the cool air in from the salon but also re-circulating the warmer air from the V-berth out. Every little victory counts!