tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80867729117985407112024-03-05T22:57:03.460-05:00WindfallCapt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-30678824419574602412019-08-20T12:07:00.000-04:002019-08-20T12:07:49.720-04:0030th Annual Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Every year for the past 30, schooners from all over the east coast have gathered in Baltimore in mid-October for the Great Chesapeake Bay Schooner Race. In this modern age of high-tech hydrofoils this is the one chance for these graceful old vessels from out of the past to join in a fair competition.<br />
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But it's really not so much about competition as collaboration. There's nothing else like a brisk reach down Chesapeake Bay in the company of other schooners -- forty to fifty of them!-- stretching as far as the eye can see. It's like going back in time about a century and a half.<br />
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I wasn't going to go this year. After all, since I no longer work a winter charter season in Florida, my whole livelihood depends on the brief summer season here in Ocracoke. And while October is nowhere as busy as July, there are still plenty of folks here eager to sail in the cooler shoulder season.<br />
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But my son Emmet is hellbent on going. For moths now he's been bugging me about it. He's attempting to defeat my lost income argument by suggesting we open the trip to paying guests. It just might work. So I'm writing this post in case any of you faithful few who have been reading these sporadic entries over the years (or someone you know) might be interested in joining us for part or all of the adventure.<br />
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We need to be in Baltimore by noon on Wednesday, October 16 which probably means departing from Ocracoke on October 10. Depending on weather and whether we decide to sail nonstop overnight from Norfolk to Baltimore, it should take about five days to get there via the Chesapeake and Albemarle canal (a.k.a Virginia Cut).<br />
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After various pre-race festivities, the race begins at noon on Thursday, commences through the night and ends up sometime Friday morning in Norfolk. The pig and oyster roast and awards ceremony takes place on Saturday and we begin the return trip after the all-hands breakfast on Sunday morning.<br />
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If possible we'll plan to return via the more scenic Dismal Swamp Canal with a stop in Elizabeth City. We should be back in Ocracoke by the 24th. You can learn more about the race by clicking <b><a href="https://gcbsr.org/" target="_blank">here. </a></b><br />
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This aint exactly our first rodeo. Emmet and I did the race along with three close friends in 2010 on our present schooner and in 2008 with the same crew on the old <i>Windfall</i> (we were 3rd in our class!).<br /><b></b><br />
A few years before that I crewed in the race aboard the 70' Schooner <i>Leopard. </i><br />
<b> </b><br />
We can accommodate two passengers for a total of four of us on
board. There's a private stateroom forward with V berths (for a couple)
and two quarter berths in the main cabin aft. We haven't worked out
the details as far as costs but as charters generally go it won't be
very expensive. Anyone interested should send me an email:
robtemple@embarqmail.com.<br />
<b> </b><br />
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<br />Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-11187724781991208462019-04-15T16:53:00.000-04:002019-04-16T09:46:18.747-04:00HAUL-OUT TIME!All vessels kept in salt water will, over time, accumulate barnacles, algae and other marine growth. Generally, this growth can be slowed but not eliminated by the application of "anti-fouling" bottom paints, most of which contain varying percentages of cuprous oxide.<br />
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I took my schooner to a boat yard in Washington about fifty miles west of here two years ago to haul her and paint the bottom. The guy who owned the yard, although he allowed me to do my own painting, required that I buy the paint from him. Of course the only brand he had in stock was the most expensive available anywhere but he assured me it would last at least three years.<br />
<br />
"Are you kidding?" I said, "I keep this boat in Ocracoke where I'll be lucky if the paint lasts three months!"<br />
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"No, really," he said, "You'll see."<br />
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I <i>did </i>see. Three months later I donned a mask and went over the side for a look below the waterline. Sure enough, the barnacles were just as thick as before I'd hauled her. I would have called the guy to complain but I'd heard he sold the yard shortly after launching me and retired to Florida. With all the profit from my paint purchase he probably bought a luxury condo!<br />
<br />
Last summer, instead of taking her to a boat yard, I hired a local scuba diver to scrape the bottom and that pretty much got me through the season. By the time of the Christmas boat parade my propeller was so encrusted that I could hardly make three knots but it was okay. It was a parade after all and not a race. A few weeks ago when the water had warmed to the point of making hypothermia less inevitable, I broke out the mask and wetsuit and cleaned the prop and as much of the hull as I could before freezing.<br />
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With sailing season fast approaching, I hadn't decided what to do about the barnacles when, last Sunday, deep into my bi-annual tool shed cleanup, I disinterred a five-gallon can with about a gallon of anti-fouling paint in it. It put me in mind of another boat yard, also about 50 miles away with no rules about bottom paint (or much else for that matter!) and I decided to give them a call.<br />
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After trying all day Monday to reach the yard by telephone (they're generally too busy to chat with potential customers), I decided to drive down and talk with them face to face. On the 7:30 a.m. Cedar Island ferry I met up with my old buddy Capt. Carl who happens to be the one who put me onto this yard several years ago. When I told him what I was up to he agreed that was the way to do it and further suggested that showing up at lunch time with a box of doughnuts for the yard gang could only help my case.<br />
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The doughnuts did the trick and it was soon agreed that if I arrived too late on Thursday to be hauled out, they'd get to me first thing Friday morning. I rounded up my long-time sailing buddy Bill who, although five years older than me, always seems to be up for one of my ill-planned boat rides.<br />
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Bill and I pulled out of Silver Lake at six on Thursday morning. A fair breeze took across the sound under full sail and we reached the yard shortly after five p.m. -- too late to haul out but we tied up in the slip and enjoyed a delicious dinner of grilled lamb chops.<br />
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You might have noticed my reluctance to identify these boat yards and I suppose it is a little selfish of me not to help advertise these places. But over my decades of messing about in boats I've seen far too many of my favorite marine facilities taken over by folks with deep pockets and big plans. It's rare and wonderful to happen in to a place like this where, after hours, boat owners and yard hands sit around on paint buckets and swap lies.<br />
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True to his word, the yard owner hauled us out first thing Friday morning and Bill and I worked like much younger men for most of the day, prepping and painting the boat. When they launched us at six p.m., we were hoping to make it to an anchorage in the couple of hours' daylight that remained. I had a charter booked for Saturday evening and didn't want to disappoint.<br />
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As it turned out darkness overtook us before we got through the Core Creek Canal so, after adjusting to the challenges of night-time chart plotting we opted just to keep on truckin'! After what was probably the lumpiest night crossing I've ever had on the Pamlico Sound we pulled into Silver Lake at 5:15 Saturday morning and dragged our tired carcasses home. A couple of hours later my charter party called to say they thought it was too cloudy to sail that evening so they canceled!<br />
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I was happy enough with a night off. On Sunday morning I got a call from a gentleman who wanted to take his family sailing on very short notice. We had a delightful two-hour sail with a charming eight-year-old named Savannah mostly at the helm. She held a course just like a seasoned old tar!<br />
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Life is good!<br />
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<br />Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-58473937254370509332017-05-13T22:15:00.004-04:002017-05-25T14:32:03.035-04:00JIMMY BUFFETT'S GRILLWell the old Spring Cleaning bug just got ahold of my bride of 23 years and, girding her loins, she plunged into the attic in a wild de-cluttering frenzy. My job was to huddle by the small attic door and haul away the numerous Rubbermaid tubs full of long discarded children's clothes, toys and miscellany as she passed them out. Some containers were destined to return to the attic in a more orderly system after a thorough cleaning but most were consigned directly to the dump.<br />
<br />
Years of experience have taught me that it's always best to resist the temptation to travel down memory lane, digging through the "dump" pile examining the detritus of the decades and waxing sentimental. Just keep the lids on and take it straight out. I was managing this quite admirably when she suddenly shoved out a stainless steel marine barbecue grill and said, "And FINALLY we can get THIS damn thing out of our lives! You've never once used it as long as I've known you."<br />
<br />
"What?!" I cried, "Are you crazy? That grill belonged to Jimmy Buffett!"<br />
<br />
It's true. It's also true that it has never been fired up since sometime before the end of my second marriage way back in the early 90s. But there's a story there and I'm loath to let it go.<br />
<br />
Back in the summer of 1990, my second ex-wife (a.k.a., the Plaintiff) and I spent a relaxing summer aboard my original schooner<i> Windfall </i>on a mooring in "American Harbor" on Man-O-War Cay, Abaco, Bahamas. Upon arrival, we found ourselves surrounded by a motley assortment of fellow sailors and it didn't take long before a strong bond formed among us that carried over through our return for the following summer after an intervening winter of charter work in Florida. Most days were spent spearfishing the reefs on the ocean side of the island. Most evenings saw the entire population of the anchorage assembled on the deck of our schooner, grilling fish, drinking rum and playing guitars, banjos, bongos, what have you. At 10 p.m. the island generator shut down and it got <i>dark</i>. Then we'd all stretch out on the deck as a single-handed schoonerman named John, a former university planetarium director, would take us on a flashlight-guided tour of the heavens. After an inoffensively scholarly discussion of astronomy, the conversation would usually devolve into a discussion of "what's beyond beyond? Where did we come from? Why are we here?" Fun!<br />
<br />
The senior member of our crowd was a 61-year-old single-hander by the name of H.J. Merrihue. He was living aboard the 47' Cheoy Lee Luders yawl he'd recently purchased from Jimmy Buffett and was totally refitting for a planned world circumnavigation. H.J. is among the most interesting people<br />
I've ever known. He was not only a self-made man but a self-educated one who had amassed a fortune in commercial diving. H.J. wasn't exactly what's known as a "parrothead." In fact, as he might have put it, he wouldn't have known Jimmy Buffett if he'd bitten him in the ass. H.J. had simply found the boat, which Buffet thad named <i>Euphoria III, </i>through a yacht broker and had purchased her. Although H.J.'s company did major commercial diving jobs all over the world, his headquarters was in New Orleans and his bread and butter had been the maintenance of submarine cables crossing the Mississippi River. Thus the name he chose for his new purchase: <i>Cable's Length</i>.<br />
I don't know how the boat looked when Buffett owned her but H.J. spared no expense. He once told me that, when discussing a brightwork job with a potential contractor, if the the latter mentioned sandpaper courser than 400 grit "that was the end of the conversation and I'd find someone else for the job."<br />
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<br />
I happened to be having a beer in H.J.'s cockpit with H.J. and John the astronomer one day when he suddenly announced: "I've got a lot of crap on here I need to get rid of. You guys want any of this stuff?" The Force 10 stainless gas grill was slightly tarnished and wouldn't do at all. I agreed to take it off his hands to save him a trip to the dump. John agreed to remove Buffett's old stereo system. I guess he can still use the radio but I don't know where he'll find 8-track cassettes!<br />
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One man's trash is another man's treasure. Since I'm thinking of taking my little schooner south this fall, I'm tempted to pack that old grill aboard. Just might have me a cheeseburger in paradise!<br />
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<br />Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-32816653020932092942017-05-13T17:56:00.000-04:002017-05-13T17:56:56.226-04:00REMEMBERING CAPT. DON LAUNER<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
It was late April, 2010 in a boat yard in Bayville, NJ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was rolling bottom paint on my
newly-purchased Hermann Lazy Jack schooner in preparation for sailing her home
to the North Carolina Outer Banks when a car pulled up next to the boat and a
friendly, grey-bearded gentleman hopped out and introduced himself with a warm
smile.</div>
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“Don Launer,” he said. “I live right down the bay and I have
a sister ship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard this boat
had finally been sold and wanted to come meet the new owner.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Actually, I knew exactly who he was as soon as he stated his
name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d seen plenty of
photographs of his Lazy Jack<i> Delphinus<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i><span style="font-style: normal;">inside and out in the numerous
magazine articles he’d published.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a real honor to meet him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We could easily have talked all day, but he was reluctant to keep me
standing there with the paint drying on my roller so after giving me a copy of
his latest </span><i>Cruising Guide to New Jersey Waters</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, he gave me his card, invited me to email him any
time I had questions, and drove away.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Although I never saw him again, I had a number of reasons to
seek his advice and opinions by the time I docked up in Ocracoke a week later.
Our correspondence continued over the next few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I’d consult him with a question, I’d get a nearly
immediate reply, usually containing photographs and/or an attached article he’d
written about the issue at hand. Of all these consultations, one stands out
vividly in my memory.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My Lazy Jack, which was built in 1979, has an Edson worm
gear steering system. After I’d owned the boat for a couple of years, a strange
groaning sound came out from the steering shaft whenever I turned the
wheel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d always kept the gear
well lubricated, but this sounded like friction somewhere in the system. When
liberal applications of WD-40 to every part of the system failed resolve the
issue, I decided to consult the manufacturer.</div>
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I sat down and wrote an email to the customer service
department at Edson.</div>
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And then it suddenly occurred to me: WWDLD? (What Would Don
Launer Do?)</div>
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So I sent a copy of my Edson email to Don.</div>
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Later that day I received an email from Edson telling me
that, being as old as it was, my steering gear was probably in need of a
factory rebuild and if I would provide them with the serial number of my unit,
they’d tell me how much it would cost to ship it to them for an overhaul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ouch!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Expensive as I knew that would be, it was nothing compared
to income loss in the middle of my summer charter season.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But a half-hour later I got the following message from Don:</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Rob,</div>
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<br /></div>
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On the aft side of the steering system just above where the
rudder shaft enters it, there’s a square-head screw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you tighten that up a bit with a 7/16” wrench, I believe
it will take care of your problem.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Regards,</div>
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Don</div>
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<br /></div>
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Needless to say, I hurried down to the boat, opened the
hatch over the steering gear and reached in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to work by feel since only a double-jointed dwarf
would be able to see the back of the unit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But sure enough, I immediately located the screw and found
that it was loose enough to rotate with my fingers. After tightening it up I’ve
had several more years of trouble-free steering.</div>
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It’s been over a year now since Captain Don Launer finally
“slipped his cable” and sailed on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As a grey-bearded schoonerman myself in this age of “discard and replace”
I recognize in his passing the loss of one of the last of a breed of
independent sailors who took pleasure and pride in meeting the day to day
challenges of boat ownership.</div>
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Fair winds, old friend!</div>
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Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-88235266670711383122016-03-02T15:13:00.003-05:002016-03-02T15:34:06.559-05:00WINTER SAILING'S BACK AT LAST!<br />
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<i>“It isn’t that life ashore is distasteful to me. But life
at sea is better.”</i></div>
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--Sir Francis Drake</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aahhrrg!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
pulled up my newly renovated website and realized how long it’s been since I
contributed to this “blog.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
guess I’m an old Luddite who’d rather be doing just about anything other than
sitting at an electronic keyboard but today it looks like the rain isn’t going
to let up at all so I’m out of excuses.</div>
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Early last month for a couple of days the wind and humidity
went down a bit and the temperature came up to the point where a winter
crossing of the sound was no longer out of the question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since most of my sailing buddies were
off the island, I decided a little single-handed sailing was in order. </div>
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I overstocked the galley against every contingency, packed
more clothes than I’d hopefully ever need, and sailed across the sound for a
night at anchor in Juniper Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Swan Quarter ferry was the only other vessel I saw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I’ll let the pictures tell that
story.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2K49twl8S8XhaQVo1rsxWcOaSTxHWPRhM9rJcbR6w7n06oFp8GXeRp7R7c9Mts6uE9FXA8QBr4G7tKCRoa2S1xK9vqYOKFrKXrikcoFxj3yKl7CfNg3BOI6_g6zO3CwjfuvTpyqSc53Z/s1600/IMG_0887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2K49twl8S8XhaQVo1rsxWcOaSTxHWPRhM9rJcbR6w7n06oFp8GXeRp7R7c9Mts6uE9FXA8QBr4G7tKCRoa2S1xK9vqYOKFrKXrikcoFxj3yKl7CfNg3BOI6_g6zO3CwjfuvTpyqSc53Z/s320/IMG_0887.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6CJbXPiutkNmuJ9E1MmX5GWWxS31WfDaECcegcMz9W4AFOZUI8jRn8fdHiAjvM4L3nChTkCdnftbR5acNLBUW3ffeOce7d1FNC3UTM6jFl4ZrLAXdejl2ZfyjimZeAxF1Oa6WAOui9AU/s1600/IMG_0884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6CJbXPiutkNmuJ9E1MmX5GWWxS31WfDaECcegcMz9W4AFOZUI8jRn8fdHiAjvM4L3nChTkCdnftbR5acNLBUW3ffeOce7d1FNC3UTM6jFl4ZrLAXdejl2ZfyjimZeAxF1Oa6WAOui9AU/s320/IMG_0884.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyAzRTjNgokw8rZiTLLgNmXyTGA2oYJK1gEaKydVTlQXUFD-hcCJyUkXiHwLERSPyjQVgjExqKvgY1Bny9eymxaK2WA3ycBJD_m0ntOEQ3wn5vrVtRskjrb53kUa-f7jNDEzGAWca2BWD/s1600/IMG_0879.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyAzRTjNgokw8rZiTLLgNmXyTGA2oYJK1gEaKydVTlQXUFD-hcCJyUkXiHwLERSPyjQVgjExqKvgY1Bny9eymxaK2WA3ycBJD_m0ntOEQ3wn5vrVtRskjrb53kUa-f7jNDEzGAWca2BWD/s320/IMG_0879.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
Above are photos from my solo cruise to Juniper Bay. Note the fisherman topsail (the white one) in the top one. I know the selfie looks like Chris Christie rethinking his decision to back Trump but I really was having a blast! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The end of February gave us as good a weather break as we’d
had in a long time so, along with three adventurous friends, Philip, Bill and
Jim, I slipped the dock lines at first light last Sunday morning and set sail
across the sound aboard the <i>Windfall II. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">The
light WSW breeze was just a bit too W and not quite enough S to hold our course
for Belhaven so we had to leave the engine on for the first couple of
hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But later in the morning it
backed a bit to the S and with the fisherman topsail flying, we were able to
make 5 knots without the old “iron jib.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Although the forecast had us expecting sixty degrees by mid day, it was
forty-six when we left and hung in the mid-fifties most of the way across.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But hey, the sun was shining and we
were </span><i>sailing</i><span style="font-style: normal;">!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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By the traditional Bloody Mary Hour (10 a.m. when the sun
has risen above the yardarm) the seas were up and I was the only taker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By noon we were sitting around the
cockpit table noshing Philip’s deviled eggs along with fried chicken and ham
sandwiches.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At four p.m. we docked up at the River Forest Manor to take
on fuel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d only burned 17
gallons in the two complete sound crossings and a couple of day sails since
last fueling up there in November.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love that little 20-horse Volvo engine whose model the Swedes
mysteriously named “MD 20/20.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
you probably guessed, I affectionately call it “the mad dog.”</div>
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Besides the River Forest and a couple of other private
marinas, Belhaven has two municipal marinas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one next to the hospital used to be free until they put
in electricity and water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
other one, nearly a mile from downtown, is still free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Call me cheap (my kids do!) but this time of year I’m always
on the lookout for a bargain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
tied up at the latter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(And we
could have used a <i>ladder</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> – the fixed
wooden dock was considerably higher than the deck of our boat).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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The walk to town wasn’t a problem for us – we didn’t do
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having communicated by cell
phone with our good friends Frank and Patti who live at Pamlico Plantation east
of Washington and not very far from Belhaven, we found them waiting at the dock
when we got in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They came aboard
for drinks and then drove us to the Tavern at Jack’s Neck, a delightful new
restaurant converted from an old grocery store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This place had been recommended to me the night before by
Ocracoke resident Jack Whitehead who owns a house in Belhaven and spends a lot
of time there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had an excellent
dinner and I look forward to dining there again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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The wind picked up during the night and the morning weather
broadcast announced a small craft advisory<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(20- to 25-knot winds) for the sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thinking we might need to break the
return trip at Juniper Bay to allow the sound to settle down, we had a
leisurely hot breakfast at the dock before casting off at 9 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winds on our course down the Pungo were
gusty but with only the mainsail and jib (no foresail) we were relatively dry
in the cockpit and it was sunny and considerably warmer than the day before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we entered the Pamlico River we
were able to bring the wind more astern and so we put up the fore and began to
barrel along at hull speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
was no further thought of breaking the trip!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1O8OZCUkewx2pl14rET8PMV1_cJIfce-E3fwh8qIFH5bu2SPLu55rT3j5h7izP0xYL2DIV2V_VtUZuSeurNAx03SFnXFim9lYWUL4jwBFDqx5x20ZOhhAm2QxvG8VscEKgtWBKN8NXx58/s1600/IMG_0919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1O8OZCUkewx2pl14rET8PMV1_cJIfce-E3fwh8qIFH5bu2SPLu55rT3j5h7izP0xYL2DIV2V_VtUZuSeurNAx03SFnXFim9lYWUL4jwBFDqx5x20ZOhhAm2QxvG8VscEKgtWBKN8NXx58/s320/IMG_0919.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This being Jim’s first experience with sailing, I’d felt
sorry to have to start out the previous day with so much motor-sailing but
conditions on our return certainly made up for it. He did the lion’s share of
the steering, kept us right on course and didn’t complain.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s him at the wheel in the photo I took with my phone
while inspecting the foresail.<br />
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</div>
Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-90167228290123974122014-12-06T15:54:00.000-05:002014-12-07T02:33:58.532-05:00NEW SAILS!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44R0i9dfsGxG-eROXVe7W0Ady3mIBRRVd4l7aQcN2XxI9i7ivBMzUlN13h6bsjqux9SUOtHe9DNr58hwcr0e4cLD-RPZd8y7u4fhMASin3yzISzwJPQ-QPtYDnG1l7ySK9mhw01IECr65/s1600/New+sails!.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44R0i9dfsGxG-eROXVe7W0Ady3mIBRRVd4l7aQcN2XxI9i7ivBMzUlN13h6bsjqux9SUOtHe9DNr58hwcr0e4cLD-RPZd8y7u4fhMASin3yzISzwJPQ-QPtYDnG1l7ySK9mhw01IECr65/s1600/New+sails!.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Folks who remember my old schooner <i>Windfall</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> remember her black hull, white trim and tanbark
(dark red) sails. When I first acquired the boat in 1985 she had a white hull
and white sails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My ideal dream
vessel in those days was the Baltic schooner </span><i>Lindo</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> (later </span><i>Alexandria</i><span style="font-style: normal;">), a three-masted beauty which just happened to have
a black hull, white trim and tanbark sails. Immediately upon purchasing my new
schooner I painted her black and ordered red sails. </span></div>
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My sail maker tried to talk me out of the red sails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It was a 70’s thing,” he said, “Get
over it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was right, of
course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sail makers are always
right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever you may know about
sails, you don’t know diddly squat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ask any sail maker.</div>
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It’s true that in the 1970’s lots of boat owners began to
sport tanbark sails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some insisted
they were traditional, dating back to the Age of Sail when men-o-war with
darker sails were harder for an enemy to spot at a distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others argued it was just the opposite:
in the late 19<sup>th</sup> Century when steamships were making their
appearance, a fishing schooner with dark red sails would be less likely to be
run down in the fog than one with fog-white sails.</div>
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Hell, I don’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My own argument was that I spend a lot of time staring into my sails in
bright sunlight in order to keep them trimmed properly and there’s less glare
from tanbark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But truthfully?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was smitten by the <i>Lindo</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and it was, after all, my boat, my money.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And speaking of money, some of the purveyors of tanbark
sails in the 1970s claimed that the darker sails were more UV resistant than
white sails and would last as much as 40% longer. I found that somewhat
plausible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’ve ever kept a
nylon American ensign past its prime, you might have observed as I have many
times that the white stripes begin to deteriorate faster than the red stripes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
“Horesfeathers!” said my sail maker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If anything, the dyes used in the
tanbark sails render them more vulnerable to UV rays.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Either way, there’s no getting around the fact that tanbark
costs more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The three new sails I
just purchased for my schooner, <i>Windfall II,</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> would have cost $400 less if I’d settled for plain vanilla. Cheap
bastard that I am, I would have done just that had my wife not weighed in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“White sails on the schooner </span><i>Windfall</i><span style="font-style: normal;">?” she cried. “That’s like Coca Cola<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>painting all their red signs blue!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I was enamored of the old black hull/ tanbark sail theme
of my old boat I wasn’t nearly as much so as she was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the spring of 2010 when I replaced my old schooner with
the smaller <i>Windfall II</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, a white
fiberglass boat with white sails like 95% of the sailboats in America, Sundae
insisted I couldn’t sail her home from New Jersey before painting her
black.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was easy enough.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But replacing her perfectly serviceable sails with tanbark
was going to require me to write another $5000 check on my sorely stressed bank
account for nothing more than sentiment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had read somewhere about staining white sails with Minwax so I asked
my friend Steve whose opinion on such things I trust. “Why not?” he said and I
never looked back (although I probably should have – kids,<i> don’t try this
at home!)</i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sorta worked but the sails always looked tie-dyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People were always asking me if the
sails were made of leather! Ah well, my mamma always told me that if I can’t be
a good example I should at least be a terrible warning.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Having recently been charged with the task of ordering a new
1200-square-foot mainsail for the skipjack <i>Wilma Lee</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, I was impressed with the price I got from an Asian
sail maker and asked them for a quote for new sails for the </span><i>Windfall
II.</i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They came back with an offer I couldn’t refuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, there’s a limit to how many
times a guy can explain why his sails look all weird.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was there and ready to move ahead.</span></div>
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My new sails shipped out of Hong Kong Tuesday evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Fed-Ex truck pulled into my yard
this afternoon (Friday) at 1:30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The photo you see here was taken just after 4 p.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m impressed.</div>
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Let’s go sailing!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-42457614031551904572014-02-27T16:32:00.000-05:002014-02-27T16:32:32.729-05:00BEATING THE BOATYARD BLUES<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwhQOPeZGwb1KvEAb4Ybo_0Un3CpdjFnB-bWuysKbSGwNqT-U1A-dcnVm9EE9XHSediC_LZR6m2QjD5xifG33xxGQEiO8lHZhN6GbUX_eIR8TUrMF2QvdKuX1jCuQUq3GNEuucL1Vv_TF/s1600/Dolphins!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwhQOPeZGwb1KvEAb4Ybo_0Un3CpdjFnB-bWuysKbSGwNqT-U1A-dcnVm9EE9XHSediC_LZR6m2QjD5xifG33xxGQEiO8lHZhN6GbUX_eIR8TUrMF2QvdKuX1jCuQUq3GNEuucL1Vv_TF/s1600/Dolphins!.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Photos by Bill Monticone</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mention boat ownership to almost
anybody and you’re almost certain to be bombarded with platitudes
about the constant cost and/or drudgery of maintenance. A few
examples:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
B.O.A.T. stands for “bring out
another thousand!”</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Boating is grand. And then
another grand. And then another…</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A boat is a hole in the water into
which the owner pours money!</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The two happiest days in a boat
owner’s life are the day he buys the boat and the day he sells it!</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sailing,” according to <i>The
Sailor’s Dictionary, </i>“is the art of getting wet and becoming
ill while going nowhere very slowly at great expense.”</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before buying a boat you should
stand in a cold shower with all your clothes on, tearing up $100
bills!</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOlFam86Spzn1JGDjyx5qK64TVoA7r1oYLO4NVDAdJfRybun7CRxtVrnOnETfvhmBWB7cnH_wkjy1AlnfyWUyM9jBaq8i-A1yjK3CdEJRXcgWNC3Odk8Ib9sZYx_RKszjpQurxeW_Bgvs/s1600/cleaning+prop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOlFam86Spzn1JGDjyx5qK64TVoA7r1oYLO4NVDAdJfRybun7CRxtVrnOnETfvhmBWB7cnH_wkjy1AlnfyWUyM9jBaq8i-A1yjK3CdEJRXcgWNC3Odk8Ib9sZYx_RKszjpQurxeW_Bgvs/s1600/cleaning+prop.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
So why bother, you
might ask. I guess it’s because when we think of our boats, we
tend to dwell more on those rare few isolated moments when we’re
out underway and everything is as it’s supposed to be. The weather
is balmy and clear. There’s just the right amount of wind and from
the right direction at that. The engine starts when you need it to
and purrs like a well-fed kitten. All systems are working perfectly.
The bilge is dry and free of flammable/explosive substances. All of
your passengers are in good health and spirits (or, perhaps better
yet, you’re single-handing).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
If we were honest
about it, those moments may only exist in our dreams, but it’s
thinking of them that loosens our grip on our wallets (and reality).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
For most of us,
the major hassle and expense falls in the spring when it’s time to
go to the boat yard to haul the boat ashore to prepare it for another
season of mostly sitting idly at an expensive dock slip oxidizing the
paint, blistering the varnish and cultivating a healthy garden of
marine growth on the bottom.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
What the typical
wealthy yacht owner does is to take his boat (or have Jeeves take it)
to a nearby yacht yard where it is handed over to a professional
staff of highly paid specialists who clean, sand, prep and paint
everything before returning the vessel to its owner along with a
staggering bill. Very expensive.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
The rest of us
always seek out “Do-it-yourself” yards which are also very
expensive but allow you to do grueling, filthy, back-breaking work on
your boat while exposing your lungs, skin, eyes and ears to highly
toxic dust, fumes and liquids in hopes of saving a few bucks. This
seems to be just another illusion with which we poor boaters delude
ourselves.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
After a long
winter of basically indoor weather, I was feeling the need last week
to have one of those spiritually uplifting boating experiences. The
forecast looked not-so-bad for sailing across the sound on Thursday,
hunkering down for a rainy blow on Friday and then punching back
across on Saturday.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
Then, as Thursday
approached, the extended forecast began to go south on me so I
decided to give up my cruise in exchange for a long, leisurely day
sail. I packed some sandwiches and invited my friend Bill along.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
Although the
weather was pleasant enough, the experience was disappointing. On
starting the engine, I discovered a dead battery – not a big deal
since there are three others in the system, but enough to create some
doubt about the condition of the others. Would there be enough juice
to fire up the diesel when it came time to drop the sails?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
Then we cast off
the lines and put her in gear. The boat oozed out of her slip at
about half her usual speed, a clear indication that the propeller was
fouled with barnacles. When we put up the sails and stopped the
motor, the boat’s continued sluggishness confirmed what we’d
already suspected: that the hull itself was badly fouled.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
On the bright
side, a pod of dolphins decided to tag along and they hung around
with us for <i>three solid hours</i> which I believe must be some
sort of record, due no doubt to our slow pace. The engine started
when needed and we finally called it a day. But as soon as I got
home, I went online and ordered a battery and telephoned a boat yard
to arrange a Monday morning haul-out. I <i>had</i>, after all,
skipped last year’s haul-out by diving under the boat and scraping
the hull a couple of times during the summer.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
The forecast
looked promising for sailing (O.K. <i>motor</i>-sailing) down to
Beaufort on Saturday, but even so, I donned a wet suit Friday morning
and gave the prop and waterline a quick cleaning. I’d decided to
try a boatyard I’d never been to before, Ted and Todd’s, partly
because it was down wind and partly because it had been highly
recommended to me for years by boating friends who were regulars of
theirs.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
As usual , Bill
was up for it so we laid in provisions and headed out Saturday
morning at first light. The hull and prop cleaning had made enough
of a difference that we soon realized we could make Beaufort before
dark, but rather than spend all day Sunday in the industrial side of
town, we opted for dropping the hook in a beautiful wooded anchorage
in Back Creek at about 3 p.m.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
On Sunday morning
we had the kind of breakfast that makes cruising such a pleasure: hot
coffee, orange juice, mixed fruit, eggs, country ham and English
muffins as we watched the fog lift in the sunrise. A bald eagle flew
over. We sat for a while in total silence, appreciating the fact
that, peaceful and quiet as Ocracoke is, if you just shut up and
listen for a minute there’s always sound. Someone’s heat pump,
traffic on the road, a barking dog. Even the surf.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
We motored down
the waterway and arrived at the boat yard well before noon, tying
alongside a commercial fishing boat at the yard’s service pier. We
had an interesting chat with Kevin, a crew member staying aboard
while the captain took some shore leave. He told us a bit about life
200 miles out long lining for swordfish in the previous week’s icy
weather. No thanks!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
Monday morning we
met Ted, the owner, and his father Gary as the yard crew began
showing up at around 7:30. This is a no-nonsense commercial yard.
Although there were a few sailboats, mostly under 40 feet, they were
vastly outnumbered by large trawlers. Sitting high and dry on the
yard’s marine railway was an enormous steel commercial fishing boat
which was about half-way constructed. A busy welding crew worked on
it the entire time we were in the yard.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
We backed my
schooner into the slipway and disconnected the backstay to allow
clearance for the travel lift. Ted operated the lift and out she
came. A friendly chap named Milt did a superior job pressure washing
the hull and scraping the barnacles (all included in the very
reasonable price of the haulout). The schooner was lowered onto
large wooden blocks and supported with prop stands. By eleven
o’clock the boat was dry enough to paint. I ordered new
sacrificial zincs which Gary picked up for me at the local supply
house. These were attached to the propeller shaft and rudder
gudgeons to protect them from electrolysis.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
Bill replaced the
zincs while I applied the copper antifouling paint to the schooner’s
bottom with a roller. The boat was lowered back into the water at a
quarter past two and we were on our way! That was undoubtedly the
shortest time I’ve ever taken on a haul out. We had time to visit
the Morehead City yacht basin to take on fuel and motor the 15 miles
to our anchorage in Back Creek before sunset.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
On Tuesday we were
once again away at dawn for a long slog into a cold NE breeze and a
nasty chop on the Neuse River and Pamlico Sound. But with the chart
plotter and auto pilot (to say nothing of a smooth, freshly-painted
hull) things could have been a lot worse. We arrived home at 2:30,
now loyal converts to Ted & Todd’s fantastic boatyard.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.08in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-59116007944907992852014-02-05T11:44:00.000-05:002014-02-05T11:44:35.510-05:00"SO WHAT DO YOU DO AROUND HERE IN THE WINTER?
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpnzbZA1tzwF__a7d7RMp1QqQvG53_4j2V2DF2x9tNyaZBc5FOiHiTM-596QJhTDFrvgiF7FH4wlgi2vqhbD5wdHchiuh6gDfcbYpFU6So1sfoUfXSRLre2XmSvYDGwe0ftNrJHXuxWV1/s1600/The+crowds+are+gone..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpnzbZA1tzwF__a7d7RMp1QqQvG53_4j2V2DF2x9tNyaZBc5FOiHiTM-596QJhTDFrvgiF7FH4wlgi2vqhbD5wdHchiuh6gDfcbYpFU6So1sfoUfXSRLre2XmSvYDGwe0ftNrJHXuxWV1/s1600/The+crowds+are+gone..jpg" /></a><br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a question I get asked all the
time but I'm not always sure what it means. “What do<i> Ocracoke's
year-round residents</i> do here in the winter?” “What do <i>I</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
do here in the winter?” “What is there for a </span><i>visitor</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
to do here in the winter?” These are all possible interpretations
of the question.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">First
of all, people who have the contrivance to be elsewhere usually avail
themselves thereof. My son, f'rinstance is off at college. Would I
trade places with him? Twist my arm! My wife has taken our
7-year-old daughter and gone to spend a week in Columbus, Ohio where,
even though it's miserably cold, they at least have </span><i>snow</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
to play around in (to say nothing of museums, bars, movie theatres
and shopping malls.) Of all the family, it's just yours truly and
our 15-year-old left to hold down the fort.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">So let
me tell you about today. </span><i>My</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
day here on Ocracoke only two days after the groundhog assured us six
more weeks of this misery. I was dreaming away on the king-sized
tempurpedic which I had all to myself when my alarm brought me rudely
back into the harsh here-and-now. I could easily have rolled over
and slept two or three more hours but I had to wake up my tenth
grader and get her off to school.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This usually
involves at least three rounds of negotiations finally culminating in
death threats (but I no longer take them all that seriously).</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a breakfast
of her home-made granola and yogurt along with two cups of coffee
and a fistfull of meds (the joys of old age!), we rushed out the door
and hopped on the golf cart (yeah, I've got one – if you can't lick
'em, join 'em – you're not going to get there any faster than the
golf cart in front of you even if you're in a Ferrari!). Half way to
the school we were both cold and wishing we'd brought the van.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Back at home I
threw on a down vest and watch cap and took a brisk walk down to the
docks to check on my vessels. Returning to the front yard, I noticed
that the wind had blown over our recycling container so I walked over
to pick it up and that put me in full view of our back screen porch
whose door has been ripped to shreds by our cat. There were other
tasks on my mental “to do” list, but it occurred to me that I
bought some “pet resistant” screen at Lowe's three years ago for
this very issue and never got around to replacing the screen.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Amazingly, I
happened to remember where I'd put the screen (in the corner of my
wife's office, where else?) so I went to get it along with the
necessary tools. I methodically gathered together everything I'd
need for the job. It seems like half the time I spend on any task is
actually wasted in searching for a tool (like a <i>pencil</i> for
Pete's sake!) which, as often as not, is behind my ear. I quickly
saw that, in order to remove the aluminum molding that holds the
screen, I would need a Philips screw driver. In my tool shed I was
readily able to locate an assortment of screw drivers but the only
Philips was a cordless drill bit and the drill, of course, was not in
the shop. I'd left it on my boat. Or was it the other boat? Maybe
my car? The one my wife drove to Ohio!
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I got on the
golf cart and went down to the boat. I <i>knew</i> I had at least
one Philips screw driver in the drawer that my cruising friend Bill
calls “the place for everything.” That's in response to my
telling him that my motto is “a place for everything and everything
in its place.” <i>Eureka! </i>I found two Philips screw drivers
and brought them both back to the house. But before I could remove
the aluminum trim, I had to remove a rusted steel turnbuckle – one
of those long gadgets that you have to turn once in a while to keep
the bottom of the door from scraping the floor when it closes. It
was too rusty to turn so I made a mental note to buy a new one at the
hardware store.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After removing
molding, trim and torn screen, I measured and cut the new screen.
Then I hopped onto the golf card for a quick run to the hardware
store for nails and the new turnbuckle. Of course they had what I
needed but the turnbuckle, which I had expected to cost $2.50 or
maybe $3.00 was <i>$8.49 plus tax!</i> “Outrageous!” I
complained to Jim Piland, the unflappable clerk. “I'll go clean up
my old one and put it right back.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Back in my shop, I
carefully placed the rusted turnbuckle in the vise on my work bench.
Then I applied a liberal shot of “P.B. Blaster” to it (as well as
to my vest and pants – that stuff really <i>squirts!</i>).</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I clamped on
the vise grips and gave it a hefty turn. “<i>Snap!”</i> So much
for that thrifty idea.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A few minutes later
in the hardware store Jim Piland rang up my purchase of a new
turnbuckle with an inscrutable Budhistic smile.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the way home it
was time to pick up my girl for lunch. As we sat across the table
from each other eating our soup and crackers it wasn't much like a
scene from <i>Ozzie & Harriet</i>. She was feverishly texting on
her phone while I read an article in the <i>New Yorker. </i>All too
soon it was time to run her back to school. God forbid she should
walk or bike the quarter mile jaunt down Back Road. Hard for me to
understand since, like all members of my generation, I as a kid had
to walk two and a half miles to school in the snow (<i>up hill</i>
both going and coming!) but I digress...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqkyYEyiajgMGKRoZh5lLVusOvA4B73WgZRAjxRj4dGd4KADEMOHdoYoU737XrsNR8eGkBXmGPJcGlpyIlHnbHk3PAQkVOId1hrgm7Ryk6bCa4dMQpEy2w0pACTmWZ2NA7Hj9GyU9mCxW/s1600/Everything+in+its+place!+(480x640).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqkyYEyiajgMGKRoZh5lLVusOvA4B73WgZRAjxRj4dGd4KADEMOHdoYoU737XrsNR8eGkBXmGPJcGlpyIlHnbHk3PAQkVOId1hrgm7Ryk6bCa4dMQpEy2w0pACTmWZ2NA7Hj9GyU9mCxW/s1600/Everything+in+its+place!+(480x640).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a>Invariably when I
take on a project like this screen replacement, there will be one
tool or piece of material which I know I own but can't seem to locate
and without which, of course, the job simply can't be done. After a
long and futile search I always end up going to the hardware store to
get a new such item. Then, when I finish using it, I carefully put
it away – <i>right next to the original item!</i> In fact, in all
my prior screen replacements, the needed item has been the little
grooved roller thingy that presses the strip of rubber into the
aluminum molding to secure the edges of the screen. Not this time.
I remembered exactly where to find the tool. <i>All three of them!</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If my wife were
here, no doubt we'd have had this conversation:</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wife: Rob, where
are you?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: Out on the
screened porch.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wife: What are you
doing?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: Replacing the
screen on the door where the cat tore it up.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wife: How long will
that take?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: Probably about
an hour.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And in a perfect
universe it probably <i>would </i>only take an hour. But it's <i>not</i>
a perfect universe; it's Ocracoke in the winter time. <i>My</i>
house.<i> My </i>tools. <i>Me</i> doing the job. So what if, with
one thing and another, I don't finish it until suppertime? There's
nowhere in particular I need to be or anything in particular I have
to do before some time in April when the place starts to come alive
again.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-37457497544920145302014-01-30T23:26:00.002-05:002014-02-01T19:34:51.797-05:00WANNA GO SAILING?<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsK5FGPPh2Oml7BemnfRF0rA_SLEWTBOmFt778d9gK-qPfcTs6_qJSEtSrulL3e8ZNJeyPCGvTaooEGnR4SXfLXYj3xVN6DQaq84k3XZ3BXqKdYa50KtZ-M5ryazfmxrdpVDnW6NpuYTK7/s1600/IMG_2160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsK5FGPPh2Oml7BemnfRF0rA_SLEWTBOmFt778d9gK-qPfcTs6_qJSEtSrulL3e8ZNJeyPCGvTaooEGnR4SXfLXYj3xVN6DQaq84k3XZ3BXqKdYa50KtZ-M5ryazfmxrdpVDnW6NpuYTK7/s1600/IMG_2160.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Brrrr, me neither! Just looking at my
schooner with her thin coating of ice is enough to reaffirm my
admiration for the “iron men” who used to sail her wooden
forebears far out into the freezing North Atlantic from New England
and Canadian ports every winter in pursuit of the elusive codfish.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I comfort myself with the knowledge
that my boat is, after all, securely moored in a sheltered harbor and
that in a couple of days, 60-degree temperatures will melt all the
ice, I think of the men who would routinely climb the rigging with
axes in gale-force blizzards to chop away the ice before it had time
to amass enough weight to capsize the vessel. Just all part of a
day's work!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you are skeptical when someone says,
“They don't make men like that anymore,” did you ever hear tell
of Howard Blackburn? In January of 1883, this Nova Scotia-born
Gloucester fisherman was dory fishing for halibut from the schooner
<i>Grace L. Fears </i><span style="font-style: normal;">off the coast
of Newfoundland. In a sudden snowstorm, the 24-year-old Blackburn
and his dory mate Tom Welch lost sight of the schooner. Welch gave
up hope and died after the first night of bailing the dory and
busting the ice off its rails</span> but Blackburn continued on for
five days at sea without food, water or sleep, rowing the dory (with
Welch's corpse) 60 miles with his mittenless hands frozen around his
oars until he reached the coast where he buried Welch before losing
all of his fingers and one toe to frostbite. Returning to Gloucester
in the spring, he opened a successful tavern where he amazed
customers with his ability to palm coins off the bar with his
fingerless hands.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But Blackburn never lost his love of
adventure. In 1897 he joined a Klondike gold-prospecting schooner
cruise around Cape Horn which ended in failure. Two years later he
sailed the 30-foot sloop <i>Great Western</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
from Gloucester to England (alone and fingerless, no less)! And in
1901, he topped that by sailing the 25-foot sloop </span><i>Great
Republic</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> from Gloucester to
Portugal.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Of the Gloucester
schoonermen Blackburn was among the more fortunate. He did, after
all, live to the ripe old age of 72. As the Gloucester fishing fleet
sailed out each winter, it was just a sad fact of life that some
would not return. 1879 was probably their worst year with 29
schooners and a total of 240 men lost at sea. Of that number 13
schooners and 143 men perished in a single February gale.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">And
for what? Well, it all depended on luck. That and, of course, skill
and backbreaking hard work. But if you didn't drown (and, as you can
see, that was a pretty big </span><i>IF</i><span style="font-style: normal;">)
and if you managed to luck into a good catch of fish (another </span><i>IF</i><span style="font-style: normal;">),
you had a good chance of making a very decent living – two to three
times the average family income. The fishermen were all paid in
shares so they were likely to do better economically than their
wage-earning brethren ashore if they could just manage to stay alive.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">In my
early schooner sailing days back in the 1980s, I was reading one of
my favorite books on the Gloucester schooners, </span><i>Fast &
Able: Life Stories of Great Gloucester Fishing Vessels</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
by Gordon W. Thomas,(1952). The book is full of detailed accounts
and photographs of 76 schooners.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I read
about the schooner </span><i>Mary F. Curtis, </i><span style="font-style: normal;">one
of two fishing schooners chartered by Hollywood film studios for the
1937 movie </span><i>Captains Courageous</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
with Spencer Tracy. She carried cameras, film and equipment valued
at $30,000 which was believed at the time to be the most valuable
cargo any Gloucester schooner had ever had on board. </span><i> </i><span style="font-style: normal;">The
summer that I read that, I was sailing sunset cruises out of Hilton
Head Island, S.C. And it occurred to me that it was a slow night
indeed when my passengers on any given trip were not wearing more
than that amount in clothes and jewelry! </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't
contemplate turning pirate for more than a half hour before realizing
that the number just seemed low because of a half century of
inflation.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I have
to admit that in this sort of weather, I'd a hell of a lot rather
read a good book about sailing than go sailing myself. So if any of
this has sparked your interest, in addition to Gordon Thomas's
above-mentioned book, you might want to check out works of the late
Joseph E. Garland. Like </span><i>Down to the Sea: The Fishing
Schooners of Gloucester, </i><span style="font-style: normal;">(Boston:
David R. Godine, 1983) or </span><i>Lone Voyager: The Extraordinary
Adventures of Howard Blackburn Hero Fisherman of Gloucester, (</i><span style="font-style: normal;">Little,
Brown 1963).</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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Howard BlackburnCapt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-20535446951005460752014-01-16T20:55:00.000-05:002014-01-16T20:55:01.699-05:00Wilma Lee Returns to Ocracoke<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMD6Qb9_IogJHtfoSsclqgI4yOL32IrW7jBwcEMz4JeyqZpPbCuu6ziQA03sYf0xh7TYJ_16-FL_39oCzmVd7uLbYhMd8HxkLQWnk4NNRWe2kkvXUL8VD1yIVPZT5DG9mh5yYRX3kXiuMP/s1600/Wilma+Lee+returns+to+her+element.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMD6Qb9_IogJHtfoSsclqgI4yOL32IrW7jBwcEMz4JeyqZpPbCuu6ziQA03sYf0xh7TYJ_16-FL_39oCzmVd7uLbYhMd8HxkLQWnk4NNRWe2kkvXUL8VD1yIVPZT5DG9mh5yYRX3kXiuMP/s1600/Wilma+Lee+returns+to+her+element.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
The skipjack was returned to her element on Thursday.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Wilma Lee</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
is back at the dock in Ocracoke after nearly two months in the boat
yard. Last Friday Tom Pahl, Bill Monticone, my son Emmet and I defied
the time-honored sailors' superstition against beginning a voyage on
Friday and made the 45-mile trip down the sound from Wanchese. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Sundae
(my adoring wife) said, “What!? You're going to leave on </span><i>Friday</i><span style="font-style: normal;">?”
Well, leaving on a Friday might have been tempting fate, but waiting
until Saturday would have guaranteed a miserable slog to weather in
much colder temperatures and a gale on the nose. Been there. Done
that. No thanks!</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Years ago, a friend
of mine who was a captain of large merchant vessels told me he was
leaving in the morning for New York to take command of a container
ship bound for Holland. Although the ship would be loaded and ready
to depart at noon on Friday, they were not departing until 12:01
Saturday morning. I told him I was surprised that a large shipping
company would be superstitious enough to waste time and money like
that. “Oh the company's not superstitious,” he explained, “but
the seamen are. If word got out that we planned to depart on a
Friday, half the crew would jump ship!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">According
to an old legend, the British Admiralty once became so annoyed at
Jack Tar's reluctance to sail on a Friday that they set out to show
how silly the superstition was. They commissioned a warship on a
Friday, laid the keel on a Friday, Christened it </span><i>“H.M.S.
Friday”</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> launched it on a
Friday and sent it to sea on a Friday under the command of a Capt.
Friday. Needless to say, she was neither seen nor heard from ever
again!</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Of course I don't
believe all that bilge. I'm not superstitious. But before we
reinstalled the mast I did place a Sacajawea dollar coin under the
base of it, heads up. I couldn't believe the folks that last stepped
the mast had overlooked that formality. Not superstitious mind you
but hey, no point in being a damn fool about it!
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-16292954797358323892014-01-02T09:05:00.000-05:002014-01-02T09:05:31.897-05:00
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
HAPPY NEW YEAR!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Topping my list of resolutions is to post more stuff to this
blog to keep my loyal readers abreast of the ever-changing developments with
the various vessels with which I’m involved. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The skipjack <i>Wilma Lee</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
after a reasonably busy first season, is high and dry in a boatyard in
Wanchese.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Philip Howard, Hunter
Collins, Steve Musil and I took her up there a few weeks ago for annual
maintenance and a Coast Guard dry dock inspection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had hoped for a nice westerly wind to sail her up the sound
but what we ended up with was no wind at all and pea soup fog for the entire
trip!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank goodness for the chart
plotter (GPS).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only touched the
bottom once (lightly) and that was on an uncharted shoal that had built out
into the otherwise well-marked Old House Channel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The inspection was the most rigorous I’ve ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had to remove the mast (easier said
than done with a 65’ 2000-lb cypress trunk!), drop the rudder to repair a small
spot in the transom and replace a few of the stainless chain plate bolts. A
couple of fatal rigging failures in Hawaii a few years ago have caused the
Coast Guard to pay very close attention to masts and everything that supports
them. The exam, which usually takes no more than an hour, involved two
inspectors going over every inch of the hull and rig for 2.5 hours. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At least with the mast at ground level I was able to sand
and refinish it without risking a neck-breaking fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All that remains is to paint the bottom with copper
anti-fouling paint, re-launch, re-rig and bring her home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With any luck, that’ll all be done
before the end of next week.</div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
<!--EndFragment-->Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-23089892510238775392013-01-24T10:00:00.000-05:002014-01-17T07:25:59.973-05:00MAKING HOOPS<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnyRrOc0RPZARBerylZGW6LKXCutZ_kGEbgYyhYMDVhycT2nu0hGmJj5d0sEuGLYxUcqpcVfeTIpBte24zqq3IEwWTFCIdQnhsvAvWEUZhsWBKMqeNbWoMiGZbNf0it2toeyqaRMeI8mV/s1600/MONTICONE'S+MAST+HOOP+MAKER.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnyRrOc0RPZARBerylZGW6LKXCutZ_kGEbgYyhYMDVhycT2nu0hGmJj5d0sEuGLYxUcqpcVfeTIpBte24zqq3IEwWTFCIdQnhsvAvWEUZhsWBKMqeNbWoMiGZbNf0it2toeyqaRMeI8mV/s320/MONTICONE'S+MAST+HOOP+MAKER.jpeg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span id="goog_757462466"></span><span id="goog_757462467"></span><br /></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's hard to believe that less than a
year has passed since the skipjack <i>Wilma Lee </i><span style="font-style: normal;">assumed
control of my life. The 95%-restored 72-year-old oyster dredger was
donated to the local non-profit Ocracoke Alive, Inc. last February
and with the help of a motley crew of enthusiastic volunteers and a
generous grant from the Outer Banks Community Foundation, I went
about the pursuit of a U.S. Coast Guard Certificate of Inspection to
enable the old girl to carry passengers.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">The
certification process had become considerably more complicated since
I'd last gone through it 27 years before with my schooner </span><i>Windfall</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
so it was not until October 3 that we finally received the Coast
Guard's green light. That put us at the very end of the tourist
season, just in time to turn our attention to all the cosmetic issues
that had been put on hold during the more urgent business of
obtaining the certificate. Most of this work involves cleaning,
sanding, painting and varnishing but some of it deals with replacing
worn out stuff.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I
mentioned that the skipjack was 95% restored. The boat was
originally built in Wingate, MD in 1940 by a famous shipwright named
Bronza Parks. She dredged oysters on Chesapeake Bay until 1996 when,
badly rotted, she was purchased by Herb Carden of Sandy Point, VA.
Mr. Carden had a deep affection for the Chesapeake's work boats and a
strong desire to preserve them. Fortunately for </span><i>Wilma Lee</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
he also had a large lumber company! As Mr. Carden and his employees
began to strip away the deteriorated wood, they soon realized the
boat was in worse shape than expected. Practically everything except
the keel, stem and spars had to be replaced with new material. But
finally, in 2002, she was relaunched looking better than ever.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Along with the
original spars, Mr. Carden retained the original mast hoops. These
are laminated wooden rings (17 of them) which encircle the mast and
attach to the luff (forward edge) of the main sail. To be honest,
neither I, the two surveyors who checked out the boat nor the coast
guard inspectors had paid much attention to the condition of these
babies until (wouldn't you know it?), the day we had to take the
coast guard inspectors on a sail. We hoisted the gigantic main sail,
the wind billowed it out</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
and three of the
mast hoops flew into pieces that showered down on us! Needless to
say, there was a lot of throat clearing and eye rolling as I assured
the inspectors that (a) we still have 14 hoops holding the sail in
place and (b) we'd replace all of the hoops with new ones as soon as
possible.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well, last week
Bill Monticone got down to the serious business of making new mast
hoops. After scanning the internet for advice on how to proceed, he
built a custom steam box out of PVC pipe, a molding wheel out of
plywood, and proceeded to manufacture ash hoops. He asked me how I
thought we should get the new hoops onto the mast (short of pulling
the 65' cypress trunk clean out of the boat!). It was obviously a
choice of either spiraling the hoops onto the mast like a key on a
key ring and then fastening them together with rivets and/or bolts,
or borrowing a bucket truck, going to the top of the mast, detaching
all of the standing rigging (wires that support the mast), and
dropping them down from the top.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't know the
answer but I did know that there was only one best way to do it and
that Capt. Ed Farley would know what it was. Sure enough, a brief
e-mail exchange with Capt. Ed told me exactly how to proceed (the key
chain approach). It wasn't the first time I'd turned to Ed Farley for
advice and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last. Followers of this
erratic column may recall that he was the oyster-dredging captain
who, on a cold day last March, took me and two other
gluttons-for-punishment on an all day dredging trip out of Deal
Island, MD. At the tender age of 61, he was far from the oldest of
Chesapeake Bay's six remaining skipjack skippers. That distinction
belonged to The Reverend “Daddy Art” Daniels who was exactly 30
years older! Last I heard from Capt. Ed, “Daddy Art” is still at
it this year at 92.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm frequently
asked by my passengers if I've been a sailor all my life and if I
don't say, “not yet!” I usually say, “so far.” But I've
always been quick to point out that I'm still just learning. If I
thought I knew anything about sailboats and sailing, I've recently
come to realize there was a lot I didn't know about skipjacks which
are somewhat of a breed apart.. But it's been a relief and a
pleasure to discover that the small but dedicated fraternity of
skipjack owners consists of a terrific bunch of guys who are always
happy to share what they know. This includes not only Capt. Farley
but also Capt. Ben Bunn of the <i>Ada Mae</i> in New Bern, Capt. Wade
Murphy of the <i>Rebecca T. Ruark</i> in Tilghman Island, MD, Capt.
Jack Russell of <i>Dee of St. Mary's</i> in St. Mary's, MD and Capt.
Frank Newton of the <i>Nathan of Dorchester</i> in Cambridge, MD.
(There are several others but these are the ones whose advice I've
requested and received). Pretty much all of them, myself included,
are, like most of the <i>Wilma Lee's</i> volunteers, eligible for $1
cups of coffee at McDonald's. These vessels, which date back to the
late 1880's, don't seem to hold much appeal for the younger
generation of mariners.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Having been a great
eater of oysters since my early teens, I also might have thought I
knew a thing or two about <i>Crassostrea Virginica </i>(Atlantic
Coast oysters). I even spent a summer of my college years at the
University of Georgia Marine Institute at Sapelo Island working on a
federally funded oyster study. But kind friends have recently lent
me a great number of books about oysters: not only the biology but
the history, economics and politics as well as the technology of
cultivation, harvesting, transporting and cooking of these critters.
Clearly I've got a lot to learn in that department as well but, hey,
there's plenty of time. I'm not even seventy yet!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-72119752076496897832012-04-06T08:52:00.000-04:002012-04-06T08:52:29.591-04:00SKIPJACK WILMA LEE ARRIVES IN OCRACOKEEver since I gave up the original schooner<i> Windfall</i>, I've received scores of calls from people wanting to take large groups sailing. My little <i>Windfall II </i>is a terrific boat but can only accommodate 6 at a time. Well, we're finally working to address that problem.<br />
<br />
On February 29, the local non-profit Ocracoke Alive Inc. received the donation of a totally reconstructed Chesapeake Bay skipjack, the <i>Wilma Lee</i> and I have been working with them in an effort to obtain Coast Guard approval for carrying thirty or more passengers. The boat was built in 1940 in Wingate, MD by Bronza Parks and was used for dredging oysters right up until 1996 when she was purchased by Herb Carden of Sandy Point, Va. Mr. Carden has a deep love of traditional Chesapeake Bay vessels and has restored a number of them but the <i>Wilma Lee</i> was by far his most ambitious project. He hired master shipwright John Morgenthaler to tear the boat down to the keel and stem and reconstruct it with the best available materials. (Fortunately, Mr. Carden happened to own one of the largest lumber mills in the Southeast!) Wishing to put the vessel in a place where she would educate and entertain a wide public, he finally settled on Ocracoke.<br />
<br />
Although skipjacks were designed in the late19th Century for dredging oysters on the Chesapeake Bay, they soon spread south to the sounds of North Carolina as Chesapeake oyster beds became depleted and over the next half-century many skipjacks were built and used in North Carolina. One such vessel, the skipjack <i>Ada Mae</i> was built in Rose Bay (mainland Hyde County) in 1915 and is currently based in New Bern where the non-profit Coastal Carolina Classrooms uses it to educate school children about marine biology and environmental science.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cCH3V_GlkWGJ9HIS2JcIcw5M4zXWhm1M0sLjQlrawlf-yAslWThnXrDyKCLAY8NFL7B-KbvYTV8L2Gfp-TIkPe8OovCTLA5qYG3JxcDRw6ntdIlYiSHj246ogYgF81b2jNYcRV-pbHxe/s1600/CIMG2606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cCH3V_GlkWGJ9HIS2JcIcw5M4zXWhm1M0sLjQlrawlf-yAslWThnXrDyKCLAY8NFL7B-KbvYTV8L2Gfp-TIkPe8OovCTLA5qYG3JxcDRw6ntdIlYiSHj246ogYgF81b2jNYcRV-pbHxe/s320/CIMG2606.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
A couple of weeks ago, Tom Pahl, Steve Musil and I brought the vessel down from the Potomac River to her new berth at the Community Square Dock in Ocracoke where, with her 72' sparred length and 64.5' mast, she will be the most prominent feature visible to people arriving by ferry into Silver Lake.<br />
<br />
You can find out more about the <i>Wilma Lee</i> and, ever better, get involved by visiting www.ocracokealive.org/skipjackwilmalee.<br />
<br />
In an effort to learn more about how these vessels work, I went out on the skipjack <i>H.M. Krentz</i> last month out of Deal Island, MD for a day of oyster dredging and wrote about it in my wife's online newspaper, the Ocracoke Current. (www.ocracokecurrent.com).<br />
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Next time you're on Ocracoke, come check out the new vessel!Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-26516467368074793022012-01-29T10:13:00.000-05:002012-01-29T10:13:21.602-05:00SCHOONER WEATHER!<br />
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As I write this on one of the last days
of January I'm down in the newly re-upholstered saloon of my
schooner, sitting at the dinette table with the oil lamp swinging
rhythmically overhead. The weather's fantastic! It's sixty-eight
degrees with blinding rain and a southwest breeze of thirty knots
gusting to forty. The little vessel is pitching and rolling in her
dock slip with such spirit that it's easy to imagine myself at sea in
any number of places she's taken me. Springsteen on the stereo.
Life is good.
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What a January it's been! Yesterday
afternoon it was even warmer than this without all the wind and rain.
As soon as my son Emmet got out of school I took him and three
friends out for a sail. We went out to the end of Nine-foot Shoal
Channel. As we beat back against the increasing breeze the sun began
to set and we broke out our fleeces. The boy took the helm and I
went below to brew a pot of tea. Back at the dock, as we were
securing the boat and putting on the sail covers, we were even
greeted by a few mosquitoes, kindly reminding us that summer is not
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Many thanks to Lou Ann Homan for the
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Can it really be January 27th?</div>
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Chilly as the sun set.<br />
</div>Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-40022656680139070292012-01-21T17:09:00.000-05:002012-01-22T11:29:23.230-05:00OCRACOKE'S NEW CURRENT<a href="http://www.ocracokecurrent.com/"><br /></a>The big news this week is, well, the <i>news!</i>
I'm referring to the brand new online news site, <i>The Ocracoke Current</i>
which went active yesterday. This is the brainchild of my wife Sundae Horn and her partner in crime, Jenny Scarborough.
These two industrious young women have been talking about doing something like this ever since they gave up collaborating on the <i>Ocracoke Observer</i> nearly a decade ago. When they called in the assistance of internet expert Carol Pahl a couple of weeks ago it began to appear that the idea was more than just talk. And then, early yesterday morning, <i>voila!</i><br />
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They've dragged me aboard to contribute a regular weekly column entitled "The Shipping News." Yeah, I know what you're thinking: "They think Rob's going to make 'regular weekly' posts? <i>In their dreams!</i>" So, as you can understand, I'll probably be pretty busy in the coming weeks and may not be able to keep up this blog with the dependable regularity you've come to expect. Just kidding!<br />
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Actually, I think the girls have done a terrific job so far (if I say so myself). But I hope that, rather than take my word for it, you'll check it out for yourselves: <a href="http://www.ocracokecurrent.com/">www.ocracokecurrent.com.</a><br />
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If you like it, please spread the word! Thanks. <br />
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Jenny and Sundae at work. (Mariah's with the band).<br />
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<br />Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-28123391359818644992011-12-22T21:07:00.004-05:002011-12-23T08:53:54.763-05:00FALL SAILING<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKA-Ivmqge84ZYZhZpxSyu5HD3ckrqeWk_h9T7eMaQmSoP8FNQyfNUUrBoj0BJDwn0BVua3S-TV7CF5sK5vBjsWwdkl6AmkfhR4YG37I6bzi2AMaijO6drQ2NLNVD7vxHyh7olMj07b8F-/s1600/New+upholstery.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKA-Ivmqge84ZYZhZpxSyu5HD3ckrqeWk_h9T7eMaQmSoP8FNQyfNUUrBoj0BJDwn0BVua3S-TV7CF5sK5vBjsWwdkl6AmkfhR4YG37I6bzi2AMaijO6drQ2NLNVD7vxHyh7olMj07b8F-/s320/New+upholstery.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689318850440437826" border="0"></a><br />Here we are at the winter solstice already! I celebrated it by taking the family out on a sail. Actually, Emmet took us out; I handled the dock lines and hoisted the sails. The wind was light, but since it was seventy degrees, we really couldn't pass it up. We had a better breeze two days ago when Emmet and I set out to explore Nine Foot Shoal Channel. I hadn't tried that in years since the last time I took the older, larger Windfall in there on a sunset cruise and touched bottom in a few spots. It was a piece of cake with the new schooner and we sailed clear out to the open sound and back without seeing less than six feet on the fathometer.<br /><br />I can only hope that this mild weather continues into the winter. About a month ago, my friend Bill and I took a three day cruise to "little" Washington and back. We'd taken on a supply of fresh shrimp so when we got to the dock at Pamlico Plantation, we had our friends Frank and Patti aboard for Frogmore Stew (something I hadn't had since my Hilton Head days back in the 80's). I know that most of you (if not all THREE) who read this "blog" have probably been aboard for a day sail or two, but the little schooner is a pure joy to cruise in. Her only drawback is the ghastly faded pink upholstery which Sundae is currently in the process of replacing for my Christmas present. The new fabric is a nice Scotch plaid which almost cries out for a tired old salt to sit down 'neath the oil light for a wee dram o' single malt! <br /><br />Merry Christmas!Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-25889566411326824242011-11-01T10:31:00.004-04:002011-11-01T11:09:09.093-04:00OCRAFOLK SCHOOL BETTER THAN EVER<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJSXx3ryt-kEC8DmWM56WJZJBwn7l6I18iTb5ckdG761nBmFel9keba9GJzNGZaizp19E6k6hV6OQYsHV7RAhwOIy8ljh08I3WD0GGbV9NnbD3YBC5aY6MxJV78j6hZUCw8qcq8Iq63d4/s1600/Ocrafolk+school+group+shot-+2011.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJSXx3ryt-kEC8DmWM56WJZJBwn7l6I18iTb5ckdG761nBmFel9keba9GJzNGZaizp19E6k6hV6OQYsHV7RAhwOIy8ljh08I3WD0GGbV9NnbD3YBC5aY6MxJV78j6hZUCw8qcq8Iq63d4/s320/Ocrafolk+school+group+shot-+2011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670042810029734114" /></a><br />Last week the Ocrafolk School convened for its fifth annual session. A combination of old friends from past sessions,interesting new students, a couple of new course offerings and ideal weather conditions made for what most students and staff agree was the best session ever. This year Debbie Block from Massachusetts joined the faculty with a course on English paper-piecing (a quilting technique) and Gary Mitchell taught a special Ocracoke music course. Both courses got great reviews from the participants.<br /><br />And of course Debbie Wells's ever-popular cooking class was once again a big hit, not only with her students, but with the entire group who enjoyed their breakfast finale. <br />Ann Ehringhaus once again taught her photography class which treated us all to a splendid slide show on Friday ("show and tell day"). Ann took the picture of the faculty and student body seen here. Also Philip Howard, Dave Frum and I conducted our "Ocracoke Sampler" class which included a trip to Portsmouth, an all-day schooner cruise, kayaking and clamming as well as the creation and consumption of a traditional Ocracoke fig cake and some meal wine.<br /><br />For anyone interested in a real learning vacation at Ocracoke, I highly recommend that you sign up early for next October's session. You can find out more on the website: www.ocrafolkschool.org.<br /><br />The season is gradually winding down and the fall weather beckons. Since I won't be able to join my friend Tony on his annual boat delivery to the Bahamas this year due to other obligations, I think I'll cast off the dock lines early Sunday morning for a few days of cruising on Pamlico Sound. So far, the forecast is perfect!Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-65918404022127360852011-09-18T21:29:00.002-04:002011-09-18T22:02:43.480-04:00INTERNATIONAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4b63x2wAnKIjYHOrQklUA-NKZWtVoKtKlTzAk2oma9kVpgBXYQ7HG6cum5mnvSroJwwLed-ODd0sqUigR7qyTZOdO7T2Y3uxBcBjXMZY_N0PfXcj140A-vwAajgCUk0m3ESMMa8xWTmCU/s1600/R.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4b63x2wAnKIjYHOrQklUA-NKZWtVoKtKlTzAk2oma9kVpgBXYQ7HG6cum5mnvSroJwwLed-ODd0sqUigR7qyTZOdO7T2Y3uxBcBjXMZY_N0PfXcj140A-vwAajgCUk0m3ESMMa8xWTmCU/s320/R.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653885149810784386" /></a><br />Avast me hearties! It’s Talk Like Pirate Day!<br /> <br /> <br />Ahoy there all ye stout lads and saucy lasses! This be Captain Larboard Slushbucket, ye trusty advisor in all matters piratical. As ye well know, September 19th be International Talk Like a Pirate Day and it’s my aim herein to put ye on course for some proper piratical discourse so drop ye anchor for a gam [chat] and I’ll fill you to the gunn’ls with some salty terminology.<br /> <br />First off we’ll get underway with getting’ yer bearin’s. Never say “left” or “right.” That’s lubberly talk and ye best clap a stopper on it and stow it below. It’s always “port” and “starboard” and ye’ve got me starboard flipper [right hand] on that. Avast [stop!] saying “front” and “back.” It should always be “fore” and “aft.” When a pirate goes upstairs he “lays aloft” and when he comes back down he “goes below.” The bathroom’s the “head” and the kitchen’s the “galley.” If you like a wench’s looks, ye could say ye like “the cut of her jib.”<br /> <br />On this special day, I’d advise making liberal use of ye Pyrate’s Alphabet. Having only two letters, it doesn’t take long to learn: “Aye!” and “Ahhrrr!” Whenever anyone says something ye like or agree with just bellow out, “AYE!” And when they say anything ye disagree with, don’t like or don’t understand, or to which ye can’t think of a fitting response, just yell, “AAAHHHRRRR!”<br /> <br />YOUR BOSS: “Great weather we’re having isn’t it?<br />YOU: “AYE, CAP’M!”<br /> <br />YOUR BOSS: “So I was thinking you wouldn’t mind taking out the trash and sweeping the parking lot.”<br />YOU: “AAHHHRRRR!”<br /> <br />Here are a few other expressions to throw around when you’re practicing piracy:<br /> <br />Fire a shot across his bow = give him a warning<br />He slipped his cable = he died<br />There’s rocks to yer lee = you’re heading for trouble<br />Sun’s over the yardarm = it’s cocktail hour and time to...<br />Splice the mainbrace = have a drink of...<br />Grog = booze (usually a mixture of rum, water & lime juice)<br />Spin me a yarn = tell me a story <br />There’s the devil to pay and no pitch hot = we’re in a tough situation<br />Scuttlebutt = rumor<br />By the wind = broke, penniless<br />Shipshape and Bristol fashion = tidy and neat<br />Making heavy weather = exaggerating the difficulty of a job<br />Round the buoy = take a second helping at meals<br />Sojering = shirking when work is to be done<br />Lash up = temporary or sloppy job<br />Half shot or half seas under = nearly drunk<br />Three sheets to the wind = totally drunk<br />Shot in the locker = money left over after an evening’s carouse.<br /> <br /> <br />Fair winds to ye now, and smooth sailing on September 19th!Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-44848999345299121552011-09-05T22:11:00.003-04:002011-09-11T12:00:41.759-04:005th ANNUAL OCRAFOLK SCHOOL SESSIONThis morning I attended a planning session for the 5th annual Ocrafolk School to be held October 23- 28, 2011. Turns out there's room for a few more lucky participants for next month's term. Once again this year, Dave Frum, Philip Howard and I will be teaching the "Sampler" class. But there are several other exciting offerings including Debbie Wells's ever-popular cooking class (yum!). Chances are if you read my blog you probably already know enough about Ocracoke to be familiar with the folk school, but on the outside chance that there may be a few readers who haven't gotten the word, please check it out at: www.ocrafolkschool.org. <br /><br />P.S. I just checked out the website for the first time today and, while I think it's really great by and large, I was mortified by the photo of the Turk's head bracelet which displays an obvious flaw! Trust me: I won't let you go home with a bracelet like that.Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-40791111874172440162011-09-04T17:09:00.002-04:002011-09-04T17:46:32.472-04:00OCRACOKE DODGES ANOTHER BULLET (well, sorta...)Like so many recent hurricanes, Irene seems to have caused far more damage to our neighbors up the beach and across the sound than to Ocracoke. Remarkably, there was no flooding on Ocracoke and, although there was a lot of wind for quite a while, there was very little damage. The worst result for us here on the island is the damage to N.C. 12 and to the power line (both on Hatteras Island) which has necessitated closing the island to visitors through the Labor Day weekend. Rumors abound and I'm not sure how much to trust much of the information I'm getting, but I've heard that the restoration of our electricity may permit reopening to tourists early next week. It appears that the damage to Highway 12 may not be repaired enough to allow traffic from the north for several weeks to come, however, so our only access will be via the Cedar Island and Swan Quarter ferries.
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<br />In an effort to make the best of an unfortunate situation, our family (complete with dog AND cat!) took a little "evacu-cation" to visit inlaws in Columbus, Ohio. It was fun and we drove through the night on our return in time to catch the 10 a.m. ferry at Swan Quarter on Tuesday. All three kids resumed school on Thursday but only for half days Thursday and Friday.
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<br />I took the older two kids on a little sailing cruise across the sound. We left Friday (I know, I know, but I'm not a superstitious sailor!) at 1 p.m. and sailed over to a beautiful anchorage in the lee of Judith Island. Saturday morning we sailed up the Pamlico River and when I gave the kids the choice between visiting Bath or Aurora, they chose the latter. We docked up, and walked up the street, not knowing what to expect in a town alleged to have recently experienced serious flooding. To our surprise, the place was fairly well cleaned up and the Fossil Museum was even open, as was the Piggly Wiggly and a surprisingly good local restaurant. We cast off at 5 p.m. and motored down stream to an anchorage off the village of South Creek.
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<br />There was no wind this morning, so we had to motor all the way back to Ocracoke, arriving at 2 p.m. It's nice to put up the sails now and again and just keep on sailing over the horizon!
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<br />While all of us here on the island wish we could still be in the peak of the season with cash registers buzzing away, it's nice to kick back a bit and take a breather. Philip Howard has put together a traditional Ocracoke square dance at the Community Center this evening. I've got to go shower and put on my dancing shoes!
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<br />Before signing off, I'd like to thank the many of you who phoned and e-mailed with expressions of concern and, in many cases, offers of refuge. One of the few really good things to come of these natural disasters is the reminder of how many really good friends we have scattered far and wide. Thanks! Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-30077441644539091092011-08-01T11:00:00.003-04:002011-08-01T11:52:23.606-04:00BUSY SEASON<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9qKygy4sWShpYZQb4NQVYg_KdxdOiYm3F-uUC1RjD-_PLPHjJ5j-AIFZ_DydIr_BFmnOKtZRmo_Z7s23j-B9SBYTHXOPJARxX_2eqGnOYF64mxUbskb8VwpqoAKM1-fb_4UH4_bUITKV/s1600/Rob+%2526+Caroline.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9qKygy4sWShpYZQb4NQVYg_KdxdOiYm3F-uUC1RjD-_PLPHjJ5j-AIFZ_DydIr_BFmnOKtZRmo_Z7s23j-B9SBYTHXOPJARxX_2eqGnOYF64mxUbskb8VwpqoAKM1-fb_4UH4_bUITKV/s320/Rob+%2526+Caroline.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635915593768948498" /></a><br />The season is now in full swing! Hard to believe it's already August. For the past two weeks the Windfall II has been sailing four and sometimes five cruises a day. The sailing school has been as busy as I want it to be, considering the high temperatures and I've had some really great students. By now I've recovered my investment in the teaching sloop, but who needs more boats? (see "Plures Naves Quam Mentes")<br /><br />The regular mate, 16-year-old son Emmet just got back from a couple of weeks in Florida and South Carolina trying to catch up on some summer fun. While he was off the island, 12-year-old daughter Caroline stepped up to the plate and did a terrific job as crew. A few nights ago one of our kind passengers e-mailed this photo of us returning to the dock. She's saving her tip money for a September trip to Austin, TX to visit her cousins. Not hot enough for her here in N.C., I suppose!Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-77828338511988012152011-05-11T22:25:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:34:46.201-04:00FACEBOOKOur facebook page (so I'm told) is: Schooner Windfall II Charters and Sailing School. Sundae's shop is: The Black Schooner. Check 'em out.Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-59931566038079277902011-05-02T11:54:00.005-04:002011-05-03T06:35:56.183-04:00WE'RE ON FACEBOOK! (or so I'm told...)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYh0R5q0r4zOc1puvw8K8erHAEOAkqzvi_eOkO2oZW45_7XM4qP6Uabw6ID9scu4hUe6IqbAnOkIkHHvv7HQB6M1PKdvORkTr840W6UwtcfyGa1wjFoM0heyAQLDC7-69eyqOiWpUgmqxu/s1600/sailing+rob+and+philip+5.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYh0R5q0r4zOc1puvw8K8erHAEOAkqzvi_eOkO2oZW45_7XM4qP6Uabw6ID9scu4hUe6IqbAnOkIkHHvv7HQB6M1PKdvORkTr840W6UwtcfyGa1wjFoM0heyAQLDC7-69eyqOiWpUgmqxu/s320/sailing+rob+and+philip+5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602159142051759826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBtN-qw2K7XnquNwQCsHchX3tdeItPPdD_Pd8csCm1moR_z7iCvsUc7Fj6MSR8VJKH4bD9gKPmnVjjJy6XfcNLjzW49NhLsIYYY-8d_6pV0ZwPz2E9ORY4AV0kr0JLK2Y8D9t9w1nyJFc/s1600/sailing+rob+and+philip.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBtN-qw2K7XnquNwQCsHchX3tdeItPPdD_Pd8csCm1moR_z7iCvsUc7Fj6MSR8VJKH4bD9gKPmnVjjJy6XfcNLjzW49NhLsIYYY-8d_6pV0ZwPz2E9ORY4AV0kr0JLK2Y8D9t9w1nyJFc/s320/sailing+rob+and+philip.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602159020342924210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdK0KTRQT6TKkNkJZzoXlcaSc-KTFi6YrKdI4LTC9rkHB-jNYduB94PgXqoNimFXRJqk5wLDKZCWaPV1zxTQEBo76MoUveDfjayhuVFGBrBMtFeQtCHXqKYbSbJsSSQHbrFLvIfasIrwAy/s1600/sailing+rob+and+philip+2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdK0KTRQT6TKkNkJZzoXlcaSc-KTFi6YrKdI4LTC9rkHB-jNYduB94PgXqoNimFXRJqk5wLDKZCWaPV1zxTQEBo76MoUveDfjayhuVFGBrBMtFeQtCHXqKYbSbJsSSQHbrFLvIfasIrwAy/s320/sailing+rob+and+philip+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602156238426424514" /></a><br />My wife, Sundae of the Black Schooner Nautical Shop, informs me that we are now on facebook so you can "like" us. Well, being an old gaff-rigged sailor, I'm not too sure what all that means. They tell me facebook is a great way to reconnect with folks from your distant past. I can think of some folks in my distant past I'd just as soon keep right there, but if that's what it takes to be "liked," I guess I'm fer it.<br /><br />Philip Howard and I took my sailing school's newly-acquired Rainbow sloop out a couple of days ago and as luck would have it, Ruth Fordon and her husband Ken came cruising by in their outboard and Ruth took some photos. I'll post them here if I can figure out how to get them from her e-mail to this site. (There! I managed to "upload" some. Yeah, I know -- the jib halyard's too slack!)<br /><br />The Rainbow is really fun to sail! I took my girls out yesterday in a light breeze and about a dozen dolphins met us right outside the harbor. Four-year-old Mariah Daisy was ecstatic when they came up almost within touching range. <br /><br />"I saw one of them's face!" she exclaimed, "It smiled at me!"Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-55309258172667376042011-04-29T23:46:00.002-04:002011-04-29T23:57:25.768-04:00Sailing SchoolTo address some recent comments: We're planning to start a basic beginner's course to be taught from 9 a.m. until noon on two consecutive mornings. The first hour of the first day will be in the classroom. The rest of the course will be aboard our 24' Rainbow sloop. There'll be a minimum of two and maximum of five students per class.<br />The introductory tuition is $150. I'm aware of the need for sailboat rentals here but at present am unfortunately not prepared to meet that need. My goal for the course is to take total beginners to the point where they can single hand a vessel of this size in reasonable conditions. For that reason, the schedule will be largely determined by weather.Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8086772911798540711.post-19902258210841106482011-04-13T21:49:00.003-04:002011-04-13T22:10:35.023-04:00BLACK SCHOONER NAUTICAL SHOP<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIzDtsLnjtkMbUZPSOe6-j8l9NytcIhaHNO6DtIaBNw6XV1E4nPmwj1yejUyuLxA19HyOeh_G7ZNOe0KMczVbocT1atI6A1uOmyB-Dbh8DwwUEpzoKe4Erg0o4FLxGBHnqTJHGdAtDdaa/s1600/Windfall+II+024.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIzDtsLnjtkMbUZPSOe6-j8l9NytcIhaHNO6DtIaBNw6XV1E4nPmwj1yejUyuLxA19HyOeh_G7ZNOe0KMczVbocT1atI6A1uOmyB-Dbh8DwwUEpzoKe4Erg0o4FLxGBHnqTJHGdAtDdaa/s320/Windfall+II+024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595253408163692962" /></a><br />On Saturday, April 16th, my wife Sundae plans to launch her latest enterprise, the Black Schooner Nautical Shop in the old Williams House at the foot of our dock in the Community Square. As she summarized in our new rack card:<br /><br />"This old island home houses a treasure trove of nautical gifts and décor right on the water in the heart of Ocracoke village. Artwork, ropework, scrimshaw, jewelry, reclaimed sail bags, and handcrafted items from the nautical tradition harken back to the days of wooden ships and iron men. Here you can find great gifts for sailors, master mariners, or anyone who hears the call of the sea."<br /><br />For the past few weeks I've felt like a kid on Christmas morning, opening various shipments of the kind of stuff I love to browse through in places like Mystic Seaport. And, for awhile at least, it's MINE!<br /><br />In addition to new gift items, the shop features a number of souvenir items made from salvaged parts of our old schooner such as the hand-crafted tote bags Amy Howard has made out of our old sails and beautiful half-models mounted on the original mahogany hatches made by our friend Jim Goodwin. Next time you're on the island, come check it out!Capt. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10246733885470983741noreply@blogger.com5