New Sunroom

After building the hardtop for the boat, one of the next items needed was a replacement dodger.  For those that don't own a boat, the dodger is essentially the front windshield for a boat.  It isn't strictly necessary as, unlike a car, you aren't cruising along at speeds fast enough that something flying in from the front isn't likely to cause injury...but anyone that has spent much time at the helm of a boat on a less than perfect day may disagree.  When we completed the hardtop in Virginia it was around Christmas and we were in a hurry to head to warmer locations.  At the time I jury rigged the old dodger so we would have at least minimal protection.

The jury-rigged temporary dodger.

During that cold and rainy trip south, it became very apparent that just a simple dodger up front wasn't really sufficient to protect someone at the helm from bad weather.  The cold rain always seemed to be blowing in from the starboard side and that made manning the helm a miserable experience.  So, back before this virus when I was looking at heading to the Bahamas in February, a better dodger and side protection...at least for the starboard side...was very high on the upgrade list.

Having an enclosure made was not going to be an option as that would be too costly for something just to improve comfort for the upcoming trip (small sailboat enclosures usually cost more than $4000 and I'm sure mine would be much higher due to the size).  A while back we purchased a Sailrite sewing machine and part of the justification of that purchase was to tackle projects like this.  My goal was to create a cost effective and serviceable solution that could be used when needed and taken down most of the time. Just like the hardtop, this would be my first time attempting to create something new for the boat, so higher end materials were less of a concern.  If I really screwed things up, at least I wouldn't feel as bad about it if the materials didn't cost a fortune.

First thing was to come up with a design. At first blush, it seems like a fairly straight forward process...create some fabric and clear vinyl panels that would enclose the front and at least part of the sides of the cockpit.  Of course, the devil is in the details.  I wanted to utilize the existing lower mount for the old dodger and then there was what to do about the sheet winches that are right in the middle of where enclosure panels would normally go.  Ideally, having all the winches inside the enclosure so you can stay dry while adjusting sails would be good, but in the end I could not figure out a way to make that happen.  In the end I came up with a design for a front panel and two smaller side panels that would wrap around behind the winches so that one could at least operate the winches with the panels in place.  I also planned for partial panels along the sides so the helm would be protected.

From there I came up with an estimate of how much clear vinyl and material was needed for the project.  5 yards of vinyl and 4 yards of material looked like it would be enough.  Checking online, I was able to find a supposedly marine grade vinyl for about $85.  Sunbrella, on the other hand was about $25 to $35 per yard.  I decided to check a discount fabric store in nearby Wilmington and found they had a roll of Sunbrella in an off-white color that just about perfectly matched my gel-coat for $17 at yard.  Another $100 worth of zippers, snaps, thread, pattern material, and other sewing notions from Sailrite as well as reusing a few zippers from the old dodger and it looks like I could make an enclosure for around $300.  On that trip from Virginia, I'm sure my wife and I would have gladly paid $300 for the added comfort of a dry helm out of the wind.

Creating the dodger pattern.

After watching and re-watching several of the how-to videos from Sailrite, I began the process of creating patterns for the front dodger. Of course, creating patterns by myself, outside, in the wind was a bit of a challenge. Trying to get the plastic stretched tight and marked before the wind would come along and blow it all down took several tries and in the end was not perfect...but good enough. Creating the dodger in the salon, when the dodger spans the distance across the salon and galley was an interesting task.  I cut the Sunbrella material into the numerous strips I needed using a straight edge and wood burning tool. Fortunately some of the tricks I picked up from the how-to videos as well as judicious use of the Sailrite seam-stick basting tape for canvas helped a great deal with the assembly and sewing tasks.  After a lot of sewing, I had a new dodger that took advantage of the extra viewing area afforded by the new hardtop.

Cutting long strips of Sunbrella

Next came the two small panels that ran behind the winches.  It was a pretty straight forward process to pattern and create those small panels out of the Sunbrella material.  These panels extend past where the existing mounting hardware was, so I had to add snaps to hold the bottom of the panels.  While on the Sailrite site I found that they had a new type of snap called a Snad that utilizes 3M VHB tape so I wouldn't have to drill holes in the hull for conventional snaps. The only downside to the VHB based solution that I've found thus far is that it takes up to 72 hours for the snaps to fully bond to the surface.

Sewing the dodger.

After getting the winch panels done, I realized I actually had enough material to make full side panels for the cockpit instead of the half-width panels that I originally planned to make.  I was having a difficult time determining how to best secure the half panels, so this solved that problem...but created another.  Snaps were less likely to hold such a large panel in place in the wind so I had to come up with another solution to attach the panel to the arch.  While trying to figure out the best way to attach the panels, I went ahead and created the panels.  When I made the hardtop, I included a design element that would hopefully aid in the installation of a full enclosure.  The bottom of the "handrail" edge around the hardtop can be slit at the bottom creating an awning track.  This track would then allow for installation of enclosure panels using a pre-manufactured bolt rope that slides into the slot. The solution for holding the panel to the arch is essentially the same solution.  I took the old awning track that came off of the arch when I installed the hardtop, cut it in half, and attached the segments to the arch.  One more zipper per panel and more of the bolt rope, and viola, the panel is attached.  The boat now has a 3/4 enclosure, with the back left open.

The end result isn't perfect, but it is functional and doesn't look too bad.  The vinyl isn't as optically clear as the expensive stuff (it has minor distortions that I think are due to the manufacturing process) but it is good enough and well worth the trade-off for keeping warm and dry. If I keep up with the maintenance of the vinyl (regular polish and UV protectant...same as is recommended for the much more expensive vinyl products), I have confidence that they will last a long time and will be a nice addition to the boat.

Departures, Bad Omens, and Bad Internet

I know it has once again been a while since I made a post.  Sorry, but it has been difficult to find time or the motivation.  Then when I had the time, other things conspired against me.  So, to catch everyone up with what is happening…

After getting the cushions done, I wrapped up a little outstanding maintenance and we finished cleaning up the boat so it would be presentable for sale.  I think it now looks better than anytime we have owned it. Our broker made the trek up from St. Augustine and took some pictures and videos for the listing. He seemed very impressed with the current shape of the boat. We met with and hired Carolina Yacht Care to watch over our boat in our absence.  We divided up everything we owned into things we wanted to keep and things we could give away or donate (we already sold a few things like the folding bikes). After finding homes for the donations, we packed up all but a couple of the boxes of stuff to keep into the two cars. The extra boxes were taken to the post office and shipped back to Colorado.

Ready for her next owners.

A couple days before we left, our eldest dog started getting sick. We put her on a bland diet and that seemed to help. We departed Southport on the 17^th, despite the threatening potential ice storms that were predicted to block our path.  Fortunately, we left late enough that we missed most of the ice and only found heavy rains. Unfortunately, this was when one of the clips holding the driver’s side windshield wiper blade on my car decided to fail. I noticed it was at an odd angle and pulled over in the rain to investigate.  Finding the failed clip, I managed to tape the broken wiper clip to the arm and it held until we could find a replacement blade in the next town.

That evening at the hotel, our eldest dog got sick again.  This was a pattern that ended up repeating itself pretty much every evening for the remainder of the trip. The driving marathon ended up taking 4 very tiring days of getting up, getting in the car, driving as far as we could manage, find a hotel, and repeat the next day.

After arriving in Denver, the very next morning I was hit hard by a nasty chest cold.  For those that don’t remember, pretty much the exact same thing happened the last time I was in town. If I were a superstitious sailing type, all of these things might be telling me this might be a mistake.

There was a bit of a communications snafu with the broker, but the boat listing should be up shortly. That is if the spotty internet we have where we are currently staying will manage to work long enough to work out the details with the brokerage company. 

The path ahead seems quite clouded and the sea and warm breezes continue to beckon to me.

Back in Southport Again

We departed Beaufort for an overnight sail to Southport just before 4 PM in order to make the Beaufort bridge opening (saving us a little time having to backtrack and take the other route through Morehead City). The drawbridge opening had us and a couple fishing boats heading out for the evening.  I don't know exactly what it is about the Beaufort inlet, but for the second time in as many passages, it was a rough ride.  I guess the outgoing current combined with the easterly swell to make for a choppy entrance.  We bounced our way out and after turning on course, the sea mellowed out...somewhat.

The forecast was for 1 to 2 foot waves on a 12 second period and light winds from the Southwest.  While the winds would be directly on our nose, the seas should make for a fairly comfortable ride.  Of course, what to weather forecasters know about the weather.  The actual winds were around 15 knots, but it was from the south-southwest. There was a swell from the east that was probably a foot or two on 12 seconds, but the higher winds were also creating waves from the south that were also a couple feet on a six second period.  Not quite as smooth as forecast.

Still, the winds gave us an opportunity to sail, just not directly toward our destination.  We were making about 5 knots, with 2 or 3 of those in the actual direction we wanted to go (VMG). We sailed all night and by early in the morning we had made it a little over half-way.  At that point, we decided to fire up an engine and motor sail to get a better angle.  As the wind shifted around to be right on our nose, the sails came down and the other motor was started so we could make it to Southport before nightfall.

Our planned route (blue) and our actual course (magenta).
Tacking across the Onslow Bay danger area.

We arrived at the Masonboro inlet around noon, a couple hours later than planned...but at least we got to sail some so it was worth it.  The down side of being late was that we missed the ideal timing window for the trip through Snow's Cut and on to the Cape Fear river.  In an ideal case, I would have liked to have been at Snow's Cut at high tide so there wouldn't be a lot of current and then we could ride the falling current down the river.  Since we were late, we found we were fighting a 3+ knot current from the Carolina Beach inlet through the entrance to Snow's cut.  Something very noticeable when you are only traveling at 6 or 7 knots to begin with.  After only making 3 knots over the ground as we approached the cut, we did pick up another knot in the cut.

Once into the Cape Fear river and heading downstream, our speed was up to a brisk 8 or 9 knots even though the waves and wind were (as usual) directly on our nose.  It didn't take long until we were in Southport.

Normally I would stay at Deep Point marina as I like the combination of amenities and price.  Unfortunately, the number of cruisers heading south combined with the damage caused by Matthew and they didn't have any space available.  Fortunately, they did have one space left at their other marina, Indigo Plantation.  We made our way there, found the one last space for a wide-beam boat, and we were tied up and secure in Southport.

The following days we retrieved the car left at Dowry Creek, met some friends for dinner, met a couple fellow Leopard owners that were in the area, and started looking into what we should do about the remaining trip.  With all the damage in St. Augustine, dock space is at more of a premium than it is here and that comes with a premium price. At this point, we are considering leaving the boat here in Southport.  We have a dock at a reasonable rate and it is fairly well protected for the area. The down side is that it is a bit far from our broker and we will need to see about finding someone to keep an eye on the boat.

We haven't made any decisions yet, but we are running out of time so we will need to come up with a plan soon. Meanwhile, we are enjoying this charming town.

A Sudden End

This is certainly not the post I thought I would start writing just a few days after returning to the boat.

Our brand new Smartplug chordset

We were returning to check on the work that was done in the boatyard and determine our next steps. I thought I would be writing about our brand new custom poly fuel tank that should last significantly longer than the old one. And the new coat of anti-fouling paint and how it should adhere far better now that all the old layers are gone. And the new SmartPlug shore power connector and cord set that make shore power a little safer. I hoped I would not be writing about boatyard screw-ups like those I've experienced in the past. I certainly never expected to be writing this.

Our brand new fuel tank, full and ready to go.

Unfortunately, I'm writing to let you know that our adventure appears to be ending before it even really began. Four days after returning to the boat, my wife tells me she just can't continue living on the boat. 

While I don't recall if I have written about this, it is not a completely new subject around here. Back when we were finishing up the hardtop, my wife first mentioned that she wasn't happy with how our new life was unfolding. Since arriving on the boat, her experience consisted of a few long passages racing our insurance hurricane season requirement up the coast and a lot of time working on the boat. Having lived most of it in a boatyard at that time, I couldn't blame her and can't say I was feeling all that great about those months. Cruisers often speak of this life filled with high highs and low lows and we seemed to be at a low. I, however, had the advantage of good memories of the previous year on the boat to help keep me going. We talked about the issues and decided to press on to the Bahamas next season and then reevaluate after that. I figured once some of the highs could be realized, it would help balance things out.  You know, that whole fun to suck ratio thing.

In fact, one of the reasons I decided to risk trusting a boatyard again (despite my previous experiences) was so that she could take a break from the boat and go see family. The boat still needed the work but we didn't have to be the ones to do it and I figured the break would do us both some good. Up until we arrived back in Baltimore I thought it had helped. During the trip we told stories about life on the boat to friends and she seemed more upbeat in general. Dolphins playing at the bow of the boat, anchored in the Keys, and the mass of lights of cruise ships passing in the night were some of the often repeated stories.

I was more than a bit stunned when, during a discussion of our next steps while sitting on the boat, she exclaimed that she just cant do this anymore. Honestly, it left me reeling. For a long time we have invested a lot of effort learning to sail, chartering boats, searching for a boat, buying it, fixing it up and transitioning to full-time live-aboard cruisers. We've endured time apart, too much time in a boatyard, unexpected repairs, and other roadblocks. To me it feels we are so very close to cresting the maintenance hill left by the prior owner. It is absolutely heartbreaking to give up now.  With the Olympic coverage playing in the background as I write this, the analogy of an athlete training for the Olympics only to suffer a career ending injury just before getting on the plane to Rio seems a good analogy.

Three ducklings adrift on a piece of wood in the marina.
I wonder if they feel like I do right now?

My wife said she felt a wave of anxiety and dread wash over her when we got back to the boat. Even if we were to try and push on to the Bahamas, I see now that it will likely not be a fun experience for either of us. Ever since the discussion at the boatyard in Virginia she did a good job of hiding how bad she was feeling from me, but these feelings seem to have been building ever since that time and have finally boiled over. I wish I had understood how bad she was feeling much earlier, but now I think the damage is well beyond repair if it ever could have been repaired. The only solution seems to be to get rid of the thing causing these feelings. So, it looks like sometime in the near future, Rover will be up for sale.

Another soul adrift in the marina, just hanging on this morning.

We are still trying to figure things out, but I guess we will soon start moving off of Rover and then prepare her for sale. What is next for us, I simply do not know.  Right now we are just working on picking up the pieces.  My hope is that we can still find an escape from the rat race, but...I guess...it will not be on Rover.

Designs

The last few days I've been going back and forth on several design options for my hard top bimini replacement. I didn't realize that there would be this many decisions to be made for such a simple sounding project.  It's not rocket science, just a mostly flat fiberglass panel.

I've been in touch with a couple of friends who have Leopard 38's with hard tops to get pictures and design ideas.  One had a tubular aluminum frame, and plastic panels were laid on top to create the bimini.  The other was a molded fiberglass top that only utilized metal for a few struts at the front of top to hold it above the cabin roof (it may actually be one of the $15K tops built in Florida).  They are both nice tops and served their purpose, but the decision on which direction to go was an easy one there.  I'm no welder, so the more I can do out of fiberglass the better.  I guess I'm no expert at fiberglass either, but at least I've done small fiberglass projects with some success.

The next part of the design was how I wanted the top to cover the cockpit.  The soft top comes straight forward from the arch and then curves down as it gets to the helm, and I don't particularly like that.  All of the winches, except for the dinghy/traveler one, are also out in the weather, and it would be nice to have access to them from a dry location while sailing in rainy weather. So it made sense to try to create a 3-D model of the cockpit and see how various top configurations might look.

The top with an example 230 watt solar panel 

I downloaded a program called SketchUp and began working on creating a model of our cockpit. I wasn't looking for a detailed replica of our cockpit, just a rough approximation except for a few critical areas like the dimension and curve of the arch and cabin top as well as the location of the two sheet winches.  It took me a while to fight with learn to use the program but I finally gave up got the model close enough to be useful. Angled and curved surfaces were a pain to model.

I tried a variety of different ideas.  Should I embed the solar panels into the top thereby reducing the amount of materials I may need and allowing for better cooling of the panels?  Do I want to integrate a water collection system into the top? How far can I extend the top and brace it while allowing sufficient clearance for the winch handles? Can I integrate wiring chases into the design for the solar and cockpit lighting?  Can I integrate storage into the top?

The side profile of the top...I think it looks decent.

So far, I've decided that the best approach I can take is one of relative simplicity.  I'm adapting simple designs that I know have worked for other people, adjusting only to simplify the build and as needed to fit the boat.  I've had a difficult time finding solid engineering data so I'm leaning on the existing working designs as well as the advice of a couple of aerospace engineers I've met here at the marina (yep, I did in fact ask a couple of rocket scientists). The pictures you see in this post are what I have come up with.

An underside view of the top.  A couple minor drawing glitches.

The plan is that most of the top will consist of a foam cored fiberglass panel.  I'll use either 3/4" or 1" foam that will then have two layers of 12 oz biaxial cloth glassed on each side.  I may add a third layer to the bottom side for added rigidity as a deck surface.  The best information I have indicates the panel alone should be more than enough to support the weight of people and gear.

The handhold edge, bolt rope and rear tab detail.

U shaped channels will be created that run from front to back on the underside of the top to provide for wire chases as well as add a little additional rigidity across the length of the structure.  At the front and around the window cutout at the helm seat, a foam doubler may be added for additional rigidity in those areas,  Around the edges I'll create a rounded surface to act as a hand hold and to provide a bolt rope slot for attaching fabric dodgers.  The rear tab for mounting the top to the arch will be solid fiberglass around all mounting locations. In all locations where there will be penetrations, holes will be over-drilled and filled to seal the core.

So, what do you think?  I know some of you out there have some experience with fiberglass...so what have I missed?  I think I'm going cross-eyed staring at this drawing on the computer screen.

North From Southport

If you have been following along on my Facebook page, you already know we have made it far enough north to satisfy our insurance.  Unfortunately, we've been too busy and Internet access has been too sparse to get blog posts done, so I'm going to catch up here as time and wifi signals allow.

We finally departed Southport around 11 AM on Memorial day to make our way up the Cape Fear river and ICW to the Masonboro inlet for an overnight passage. We left at 11 in order to use the tide to our advantage and to time our arrival at the Beaufort inlet the following morning. As you might expect, the waterways were crowded with boaters enjoying the holiday weekend. We encountered a lot of small boats and water skis and I'm not sure all of them were what I would call...sober.  But, we ran the gauntlet and made it out the inlet and back into the Atlantic.

Sailing in the Atlantic

We had an Ok nighttime sail with seas that weren't quite as rough as when we left St. Augustine and made good time as we arrived at Beaufort around 3am. We hove to and waited for daylight before making our way in and beginning our ICW bypass of Cape Hattaras. Just past Beaufort we encountered another catamaran and it turned out to be Dragonfly,  who we had met in Southport a couple days earlier.  We chatted with them on the radio a bit while motoring up the canal.

Dragonfly motor sailing with us.

When the canal opened up into the Neuse river, we were both able to turn our motor boats back into sailboats again. Having more sailing experience (OK, we simply made some mistakes in anticipating proper sail configuration and when to make a turn), Dragonfly left us behind. But we were able to sail most of the river without burning any diesel...and that is a good thing anytime you are on the ICW.

Of course, the river narrowed and we were once again required to engage the old Iron Genny to get us to the next spot where we could sail again. By the time we got to the Pamlico river we were seeing 30 knot winds at our backs. We sailed under reefed genoa alone up through the Pungo river. At that point it was getting late and we were exhausted so we decided to spend the night at a marina in Bellhaven.

As we passed the breakwater in Bellhaven (which was not doing it's job, by the way), we found Dragonfly anchored in the bay. We made our way to the marina and, despite the strong winds, made it safely to the dock. Having not had much sleep in the 36 hours that elapsed since we left Southport, we got the dogs off the boat for a bit and then collapsed in our berth for the night without even having dinner.

Memorial Day in Southport

We have decided to hang out in Southport until Memorial Day, mostly waiting for more favorable winds to continue our trek north (the winds blowing from the north are expected to shift east and then south by the end of the holiday weekend).  We are also taking advantage of the marina WiFi to continue researching boatyards where we can have some work done once we get "up north"...wherever that is.

Provisions...

Southport is a picturesque little waterfront town.  It obviously survives on tourism these days as the old downtown area has lots of little antique, gift, and knick-knack shops. Right along the water are a few restaurants that are nice places to hang out in the evening, have a beer, and watch the boats on the water.  One of the best places to grab a bite to eat is the Yacht Basin Provision Company, better known as just "Provisions".  They are a simple bar and restaurant where you can satisfy a seafood or burger craving, and the prices are cruiser friendly (We both had a nice crabcake sandwich for $5.95...sides were extra...and split 1/4 lb. of peel and eat shrimp at around the same price). They even have a dock you can stay at if you can find the space and eat there...but only one of their spaces will fit a catamaran.

The bar and seating at Provisions

Being the frugal sort and yet still wanting to stay at a marina as we get the dogs more used to life on a boat, we decided to re-position the boat from the Southport Marina (where we limped in on one engine) to Deep Point Marina that is just outside of town (about 2 miles).  Instead of paying $1.75/ft/day (or $66.50) we are paying $1.20/ft/day (or $45.60) and getting the 3rd night free.  In addition, Deep Point has a pool and free laundry...a couple of nice amenities.  The down side is, of course, they aren't right in the middle of town.

Deep Point Marina, with Rover on the right.

While we were here, I also got to meet back up with someone I met the last time I was passing through town.  Walt and his wife had sent me a note through the blog and wanted to come down and meet me and see the boat.  At the time they were just taking sailing lessons and wanted to check out my boat and chat about my experiences.  I guess they liked the boat, because now they own a 1999 Leopard 38 too.  This time we got to compare notes on the boats and any tips and tricks we had figured out along the way.  Getting a chance to see another identical hull is always a great way to get ideas for improvements or just better ways of doing things.

Walt and Us on James and Emily's Catamaran

While we were chatting on his boat, a very cool young couple that Walt met the previous night dropped by.  James and Emily are in their late 20's and are just getting back from a cruise from New England down to the BVI.  And get this, they did it on a catamaran they built themselves.  How cool is that!  Looking at the boat, you wouldn't think it was home-built...it looks very nice and professionally finished.  We had a good time talking with them and hearing about their trip, and I only wish I had thought to do something like this when I was younger...bu better late than never, right? They have a blog of their trip, you can check it out here: http://dragonflysail.com/

Chatting with James and Emily

So, in this mad rush to get north, we are still taking a little time to enjoy ourselves.  Now if I can only find a DIY boatyard in the Chesapeake that can accommodate a 21' 3" wide catamaran.

And We're Off

For the first time since we bought the boat over a year ago, our entire household is on the boat. The house back in Colorado has sold and just about everything we own is floating in Hammock Beach. Or, it was anyway...

We have been rushing up against our insurance deadline to be north of Cape Hatteras by June 1 so we needed to start our move north.  Given the tight time frame, we can't really just meander up the coast as we would have liked, but instead need to make it a quicker trip.  The plan was to take the ICW up to St. Augustine, the next inlet, and then sail on the outside up to Southport NC.  The weather forecasts looked like it was going to cooperate for the trip, so on Sunday afternoon we departed.

The trip up the ICW went fast as we were riding the current out.  We left just after 3pm and made the 6pm opening of the Bridge of Lions in St. Augustine.  While waiting for the bridge, a Gemini catamaran pulled up behind us, and it was no other than my friend (and former broker) Pete.  He was moving a newer Gemini Legacy to another local marina after it had been at a local boat show (as I've said before, maybe the hardest working man in the boating industry).  It was a nice surprise to see him as we were heading out.  He even managed to snap a few pictures of us.

Waiting on the Bridge of Lions...or pirates.

Pete following us through the bridge.

After making our way out of the inlet, we found the ocean was a little more active than forecast.  Instead of the 2 foot seas on an 8 second period and 15 knots of wind, we were greeted with 3 foot seas on about a 4 second period with winds of 23~26 knots. The one plus was that both the waves and the winds were from the south to southeast so it would feel more comfortable going northeast than any southerly direction. Not the ideal conditions for introducing my wife to a night passage, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.

Unfortunately she did get a bit seasick that first night.  After taking some Bonine she started feeling better.  Over the course of the night the winds and waves did finally calm down. By 5am the seas were around 1 foot on a 6 second period and she was feeling good.

For my non-sailing readers...or those not familiar with the above numbers, the quick rule of thumb on sea state is that it is usually pretty comfortable when the wave height in feet is one-half (or less) the wave period in seconds.  As the ratio approaches 1:1, things start feeling pretty rough.  So, in general you would rather be sailing in 4 foot seas on a 12 second period than in 3 foot seas on a 3 second period.  Hope that makes a little sense.

Another sunrise on the Atlantic

That first morning we were also visited by our first pair of dolphins.  They were having fun playing in the pressure wave at the front of the boat.  Later on in the trip we were visited two more times by dolphins that came to play.  Of course, I think I run across photo-averse dolphins since each time I decide to go get a camera, they generally disappear.  Oh well, it is nice to see them and superstition claims their visits bring good luck...and we could certainly use that.

Along with the gentler seas the second day came more fickle winds, so we ended up doing a a combination of sailing and motor-sailing most of the day.  Winds cycling between 3 and 8 knots during the day.  By that evening the fickle winds had allowed the seas to calm to 1 foot on a 9 second period.  A good time for the wind to pick up a bit so we could sail...and it did.  Maybe it was the luck of the dolphins, but regardless of the reason I'll take it.  We were able to sail through the night on 8 to 14 knot winds, and by our second morning we were abeam Charleston, SC.

There is an interesting phenomenon that occurs when sailing at night.  During the day, you can look in all directions and see nothing but the ocean for the entire day.  Once night falls, it seems that all the big cargo ships appear as if out of nowhere.  Maybe it has just been the timing of my passages that I seem to go by all the traffic lanes in and out of the major port cities during the night, but both my wife and I have noted that these large ships appear like The Flying Dutchman in the movies. In any case, trying to decipher the navigation lights from the myriad of deck lighting on these large ships can keep you entertained at night.

A rare daytime cargo ship sighting.

Well, there are things that need to get done today, so I will have to save the rest of the story for next time.  Until tomorrow...

Goodbye Brunswick, Hello....Southport

As I'm sure you are aware, I am trying to move my boat from Brunswick Georgia up to the Chesapeake bay area before the end of the month.  As the result of a recent post, I had a few people volunteer to help out.  One blog reader that contacted me said he had taken the ASA courses and had done some sailing but might be a bit rusty.  Since he was nearby and was willing to do the entire trip, it sounded like a good solution to moving the boat.

We met a few days before the planned trip and talked a little bit about the trip and the boat and everything seemed to go OK so we planned to have him come down last Wednesday and spend the night so we could get an early start Thursday and hopefully make Beaufort NC by Saturday.  The winds were forecast to be in the teens for our trip with seas of 1 to 2 feet on a four second period (for those that aren't aware, the comfort level of the ride has as much to do with the distance, or period, between waves as it does the height of the waves...and the closer the period in seconds comes to the wave height in feet, the more uncomfortable the ride is supposed to be).

We get up and make our way to the fuel dock at the marina to get fuel and a pump out before departing.  While I had arranged to get fuel when they opened in the morning, apparently someone came the night before and bought all of the fuel they had so we had to go to another marina to get fuel for the trip.  This put us a bit behind on our ambitious schedule to make it to Beaufort by Saturday.

We headed out the inlet and into the Atlantic, raised the sails, and started heading north/northeast.  The wind wasn't as high as forecast initially, so we started out motor-sailing (using both an engine and the sails to power the boat).  After a little while the winds picked up to around 12 knots and we were able to shut down the engine.  Finally, really sailing, with no motors, toward a new destination.  It felt good.

Yes, this IS a sailboat.

The weather was great, the sea was comfortable and we were making between 5 and 6 knots.  Speed of just a little under half the wind speed seemed pretty good to me.  At one point I discovered a stow away on board, I have a feeling he will be surprised when we get to our destination....if he survives the trip and gets off the boat at that point.  At one point I felt a little bad for him and offered him a little fresh water but he didn't seem interested.  Don't know how long he can survive without food, but I hope he knows what he got himself into.

My little stow away.

As the sun set, the sailing conditions remained very nice, with one foot seas and winds from the east/southeast between 10 and 12 knots.  This gave us a nice beam to broad reach sail.  For safety overnight we reefed the main sail and that reduced our speed to between 4 and 5 knots. A little after sunset we were off the coast of Savannah, Georgia.  Savannah is a pretty large port and there were a number of large cargo and container ships moving about in the area.  I periodically fired up the radar to check for vessels in the area and we kept a look out for them.  Since it was a nice clear night, we were able to see and avoid (although I don't actually recall having to alter course...but perhaps we did).

Sunrise from the helm.

We took 4 hour watches overnight and it was uneventful.  The water rushing past the hull with only the occasional need to fire up an engine or the generator to recharge the batteries (I'd run the generator if I needed AC power for other things...like cheating and using the microwave, otherwise I would use an engine so we could get a few more knots for a little while).  As morning approached, the winds died down and so the "iron genny" (the motor) was started again so we could maintain a 5~6 knot speed.  During my morning watch there was a small pod of dolphin (I think I saw 6 or so jumping out of the water) heading directly for the boat.  I thought they might be coming to play at the bow as they often do so I went to get my camera.  Of course, when I got back out with the camera, they were nowhere to be found.  Oh well.  It was cool to see them.

Track of the first half of the trip

We passed by Charleston around 8 AM and continued motoring most of the day.  In fact, the wind was light enough from behind us that I couldn't keep the sails filled when motoring so I doused the sails entirely. Doing some calculations on where we were, I decided we weren't likely to make it all the way to Beaufort before sunset on Saturday, so I decided we would divert to Southport, NC.  Finally in the afternoon, the winds started picking up and we were able to raise the sails and once again shut down the engines.  By sunset we were in Long Bay and about 45nm from Southport.

Sunset.  There is land over there somewhere.

Naturally, the winds picked up a bit overnight and even with reefed sails we made it to Southport at about 4am.  Since I didn't want to navigate the channel at night and no marinas would be open anyway, I decided to heave-to and wait for daylight and the local marinas to open.  After sunrise we made our way into the channel and, after a little additional waiting, got a hold of the marina and we were back on a dock.

Track of the second half of the trip.

I wish I could say that everything went well on the trip, and as for the sail itself it did.  Unfortunately I made some decisions that led to quite a bit of frustration.  With the fuel fiasco and the added delay, I skipped doing a few maneuvers that I had planned before we headed off.  Had I stuck to the plan I think I would have realized earlier that my crew was more than just "a little rusty".  I'm no sailing instructor, but perhaps if I had better understood his lack of basic sailing skills I could have compensated before the frustration set in.  We ended up parting company in Southport and I shuttled him back to get his car and to pick up mine.

I learned quite a bit on this trip.  For one, I need to do a little better job evaluating crew skills before setting off on a trip.  I learned that, while it is easier to have a hand, I can single-hand the boat if I need to.  I learned the grace of a dolphin swimming through the ocean in the morning.  I learned the peacefulness of watching the sun rise over the ocean when no land is in sight.  I learned that I really need to get my wife out here with me soon.

P.S. If you are in the Southport, NC. area (or somewhere else) and would like to go sailing and help me move the boat, let me know.  You don't need to be an expert, just have some desire...and an honest evaluation of your skills so I can set proper expectations. And don't be offended if I quiz you on a few things so I get an accurate assessment.

P.P.S. If you are concerned with our stowaway...despite his occasional precarious perch (at one point I found him on the foot of the genoa when I unfurled it) and lack of food, I did see him roaming the boat after we made it back to dock.  So, he survived the trip too.  Hope he likes North Carolina.

Look Ma, It Really IS A Sailboat

Other than a very brief period during the sea trial, about a 1 minute stint in the ICW near Palm Coast, and our brief period before the engine impeller imploded on our trip up to Brunswick, we never have really had a chance to actually sail our Leopard 38. Something I remedied this past Friday.

It was supposed to be good sailing weather with blue skies and winds around 15 knots out of the southwest.  I just couldn't pass that up.  Since my wife is not around to go sailing with me, I conned Doug on s/v Pieridae, a friend I made here at the docks in Brunswick, to go with me to do a little actual sailing.

We left the docks around 10:30am and motored down the East River to "the bridge".  Once we made it under the bridge, we raised the sails and shut down the engines.  There is just something about a sailboat cruising along without the drone of the engines in the background.  It was nice.

The Brunswick Sidney Lanier Bridge

We sailed down the St. Simons sound on a nice broad reach with the boat making between 5 and 7 knots.

St. Simons Sound

It was grueling work...but someone had to do it. ;-)

A "rough" day as the captain

We went through the sound, past St. Simons Lighthouse and through the inlet out to the Atlantic Ocean.

The Atlantic with sails unfurled

It was a beautiful sail.  A few times we were running with the wind dead at our backs and we managed to keep the boat wing-on-wing for a little while (for my readers not savvy on sailing, this is where the wind is behind you and you have the Mainsail off to one side and the Jib or Genoa off to the other so the wind can "push" on both sails)

Sailing win-on-wing

Of course, since the wind was behind us leaving, it was on our nose as we came back.  We spent some time beating (tacking) back into the inlet and past the St. Simons lighthouse.  It had been so long since I really sailed a catamaran, that I screwed up the first couple of tacks and got the boat in irons.  Doug actually suggested we try back-winding the Genoa to help push us through the turn and that is when I remembered that was actually what I was taught to do.  We then had a good amount of practice with that maneuver as we crept our way back into St. Simons sound.

Tacking torward St. Simons Lighthouse

Unfortunately, during our return, both the wind and the outgoing tide conspired against us.  Each tack seemed to produce lower and lower forward movement (referred to as Velocity Made Good) toward our goal.  The points in the zig-zag pattern of our track on the chart plotter kept getting closer and closer together.  Deciding that we needed to get back before dark, we reluctantly fired the engines back up, furled the sails, and motored our way back to the marina.

When we got to the marina, the wind was blowing over 25 knots or so across the docks and that made it fun getting Rover back into her slip.  But with a little help from dockside, we got her safely back home.

Boy it felt good to get the boat out and sail.  I only wish my wife had been here to enjoy the day with me.

And thanks to Doug for being crew and ships photographer on the trip.

Not The Way We Wanted To Arrive In Brunswick

After spending the night at Palm Cove Marina in Jacksonville Beach, we get an early start so we can make it the rest of the way to Brunswick.  The wind is again on our nose, expected to clock around to the northeast in the afternoon...so we might as well just continue motoring up the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). This time was different though, for the first time there will be no captain or instructor or other help, just my wife and I and our Leopard 38. I know I am ready and my wife was too.

We cast off lines, depart the dock, and motor down the narrow channel back to the ICW and we were soon making our way north in the crisp morning air.  The clouds from the previous day were long gone and it looked like it was going to be a better day than the previous one.

Ironically, this part of the trip does provide a little more of a navigation challenge than the previous day, but we got good briefings on the route from the captain as well as my friend and former broker Pete, so we figured we were in pretty good shape.  It is always good to have local knowledge and on this section it would definitely help keep us out of trouble.

Turbulent Atlantic Avenue bridge in the distance.

The ICW is in a pretty wide river through Jacksonville, but there is one area where the most of the flow squeezes under a causeway bridge.  This was the first challenging spot on which we were briefed. Going under this bridge can be a bit tricky if there is much flow...and of course we were fighting the current a bit when we got there.  The boat speed dropped from 7 to 4 knots as we made our way under the bridge and steering became a bit squirrely. I'm glad I was warned about this and the passage under the bridge, other than slow, was uneventful.

Soon the ICW opened up into the St. Johns river and my wife and I were looking at a naval shipyard that had some large military vessel in dock.  We were admiring the ship while allowing a wide berth to anything military (seems like a prudent idea) when it donned on me that we were briefed about this as well.  Sure enough, I check the chart and the shipyard was where we needed to make a turn in order to stay on the ICW.  Glad I caught that before we motored for a half an hour in the wrong direction.  Of course, just after the turn there is also a bascule bridge (fancy term for a draw bridge) that we needed to open (unlike some motorboats, our 59 foot mast doesn't fit under these so well).

Marina at Fernandina Beach

In the confusion of getting back on course, I forgot to check the name of the bridge...but wanting to get a call in sooner rather than later I took a guess and haled the bridge using the name of the street I found on the chart. Now I've heard stories of bridge tenders that won't respond unless you hail them with exactly the right bridge name on exactly the right channel.  Perhaps it was the entertainment of my abrupt U turn or maybe this tender is just nicer than some, but fortunately for me he was more forgiving and simply responded with the correct name.  I requested the next bridge opening and he told me to continue my approach (I knew that the bridge was on-demand and figured this would be the response, but I've also been told to be as nice as possible to the bridge tenders because they can easily make your life difficult...and besides there really isn't any reason not to be pleasant to someone providing you a service).  As soon as we cleared the bridge I radioed back that we were clear, thanked him, and wished him a nice day.

Just like stacking dominoes...only bigger.

The next point that we were briefed on is the submarine base at Kings Bay.  The ICW comes right up along side this restricted area and you need to make very sure that you turn when you are supposed to, or I imagine you will have some explaining to do to with some people that have big guns and no sense of humor. You also cannot cut the corner here because, while the river seems wide, it is very shallow outside the channel markers.

As we motor up the inlet toward the base we seem to once again be fighting the current (the joke about the wind and current always coming from the direction you want to go in a sailboat seems to be holding true) and we were making between 4 and 5 knots again.  I move over to the edge of the channel in hopes that the shallower water might reduce the currents effects a bit and we did pick up maybe half a knot...better than nothing.  We come up to the base and I see warning signs and a patrol boat sitting at the entrance.  I keep a watchful eye for the ICW markers and make our turn right when we are supposed to.  So no conversations with grumpy military officials for us that day. And sorry, no pictures were taken in the area either.

Once we turned onto the ICW, the depth dropped from the 30 or 40 ft. we were seeing back to the 8 to 12 that is more typical of the ICW.  Even thought we were still fighting a bit of a current, our speed did pick up some as well.  We continued motoring up the ICW, meandering through the countryside and enjoying the sun and scenery that floated by.  I did wonder if we made the right decision going up the ICW since it wanders around a bit in northern Florida and Southern Georgia.  Probably best for us newbies to just enjoy the wandering up the ICW though...even if it does take a bit longer.

Eventually the wandering did get the best of me and I noticed that ahead in the Saint Andrew Sound, a little south of Jekyll island, we were going to be close to the ocean in a rather wide sound. The wind was going to be coming close to setting us up for a nice beam reach through the sound.  So, as we got to that area, we pointed the boat into the wind for a minute and raised the sails.  The wind was blowing over 20 knots so we did reef both the main and the genoa.  We turned back on course, trimmed the sails and pulled the engines to idle.  Finally...we were a sailboat...well, almost.  Since we didn't have a long time to sail, I figured it was best to just keep the engines running at idle instead of shutting them down and restarting them a few minutes later.  So, technically with the engines running (even in idle) we were still a motorboat, but we were sailing...and with the reefed sails we were making the same speed we had been with the engines engaged.  It felt good!

The 15 or so minutes seemed to pass by very quickly and we were soon at the point where we needed to turn into the narrow and shallow ICW channel behind Jekyll island.  Oh well...at least we finally got to sail our sailboat...and that was great.  We furl the genoa, engage the engines again and turn into the wind and drop the main.  Back to full motorboat mode again.  We throttle the engines up and with my wife at the helm I was forward to secure the main sail, halyard, and reefing lines.

As I return to the cockpit my heart sank.  I notice what appears to be steam or smoke coming from the starboard engine room hatch and that faint smell of hot metal from an engine overheating.  I quickly check the engine temperature gauge and find it pegged in the red even though engine alarm had not gone off.  My wife, still being very new to the boat simply didn't notice difference and since she was looking forward, she did not see the steam and (probably thanks to her encounter with Zicam) didn't pick up on the hot engine smell.  So, I quickly shut the engine down, grab a fire extinguisher, and go check the engine hatch.  It does seem like steam and not smoke so I slowly open the hatch.  Steam billows out of the engine room...but fortunately there is no fire.

If there is one thing I learned in aviation, it is that redundancy is a good thing.  One of the advantages of a catamaran is that it has two engines and in our cat one engine can push it along at a pretty respectable speed (at least 3/4 of full speed with both engines).  So, we continue to make our way along the ICW on our port engine while we try and figure out what to do. We are perfectly safe at the moment, but you see, this new captain is pretty sure he will have a problem trying to dock on a single engine in a crowded marina.  I've gotten pretty good at maneuvering with the two engines...but this was a bit much to ask of myself.

Not the way you want to arrive at a marina.

We decided to avail ourselves of the services of our newly acquired SeaTow membership (think AAA of the ocean) and get towed in to the dock. They get us into our slip and we get the boat tied up.  I'm sure glad I bought that membership, the "free" tow would have otherwise cost us $600.  I also have to thank the folks at Brunswick Landing marina, even though we got there late, they stayed and helped us get tied up and give us the key cards to the clubhouse/bathhouse before they left for the evening.

Rover sitting quietly in her slip as the sun set.

With all the steam in the engine room we weren't able to assess the situation with the engine even after we arrived.  The next day we rent a car in order to go shuttle my car from Palm Coast to Brunswick and then hopped on a plane back to Denver.  So, assessing the engine will have to wait until I return in a week. This certainly wasn't the way I wanted to end our first trip in Rover just the two of us, but it seemed like the prudent thing to do.

Renaming Our Leopard

I'm still catching up on the posts...but at least heading in the right direction now.

While my wife and I were both together on the boat, it seemed like the best time to perform the renaming ceremony.  For anyone that isn't familiar with all the superstition surrounding sailing vessels and the high seas, there is a lot of it. And naming, or renaming, a vessel is one of those items steeped in tradition and lore.  Since we had already submitted the paperwork to the Coast Guard to change the name (which I hear might be processed in a few more months), it was about time to make the name change happen.

The basic concept is that you need to appease the gods of the seas and wind (Poseidon/Neptune, Boreas,  Zephyrus, Eurus, Notus) and it seems, just like with many a sailor, drink is the appeasement of choice for the sailing gods.  So the ceremony consists of asking the gods to be good to the boat while pouring copious amounts of champagne or wine into the water or flinging it through the air.  There are some other "options" and variations on the theme, but they all seem to have that in common.  I do wonder why it is not rum...but then I don't really want to waste perfectly good rum do I?

Here is a write-up on the ceremony we used:
http://www.boatsafe.com/nauticalknowhow/rename.htm

To get the old name off of the boat was easier than I thought it would be.  I ended up using a plastic scraper and my newly acquired heat gun (if you own a boat and intend to do any work on hoses, you'll need one of these) to remove the old lettering.  A little heat loosened the glue and the letters peeled off fairly easily.  A little goo gone took care of what little residual glue remained.

Farewell Breathe

After the letters were removed we could see both the old name (Breathe), and the prior name (Magnificat) in the gel coat. There was some discoloration and the gel coat, of course, does not wear under the vinyl letters so they are raised a bit.  I used some rubbing/polishing compound to try and smooth it out before adding the new letters.

Applying the letters is pretty straight forward.  We got the lettering from Lettering On the Cheap (which may be a bit of a misnomer but weren't bad, had easy to use online design tools, and delivered pretty quickly). The letters come attached to a big clear temporary sticker used for positioning.  Following the online video instructions on their site, we were able to get the new lettering applied to the boat a few hours before the ceremony was supposed to start.  Of course, we had to immediately cover up the new lettering so as not to offend the gods until the ceremony was complete.

Our first attempt at the ceremony was postponed due to the cold and rain (so much for "Sunny Florida" during "the dry season") but several guests showed up anyway so we ended up having an impromptu party...or maybe it was the pre-naming celebration.

The next day the rains held off so we were able to complete the ceremony.  Unfortunately we didn't have quite as many people show up as the previous day, but it was a fun time anyway.  We asked begged the gods to be kind to our fine vessel and poured and flung champagne (keeping the corks from the naming ceremony on board to ensure the boat stays afloat is apparently another tradition), then finally removed the covering from the new lettering.

Hello Rover

So, it is now official, we have a cat named Rover. If you want to know more about how we came upon this name, check out this post.  Now a few random pictures from the ceremony and party (sorry...my wife won't let me post any including her yet).

Opening one of the sacrificial bottles of champagne.

A few friends waiting on the dock while we did the ceremony.

Champagne, wine, beer...something will appease the gods, right?

Hopefully the first of many gatherings of friends on Rover.

A special thanks to Britton and Dieter for providing some of the pictures...and for reaching out when they noticed I was in their area.  The cruising community is very cool because of people like them (and most every cruiser or wannabe cruiser I've had the fortune of meeting thus far has been very cool).