Hallowscream!!!

Our dock neighbors

Armed with good wishes and leftover prize-winning chili from our boating friends, we left our temporary home yesterday morning under the cover of darkness to make the bridge opening at Kent Narrows at 6:30am.  It was low tide, which is the only way this behemoth mast can fit under the stationary bridge right next to the drawbridge.

We sailed through just fine.  We had to keep a sharp eye for the marks as the channel is narrow and you can lose 10 feet of water depth in seconds. 

"Damn *&^#%$%@#+*&^*"  What were these epithets flowing from the Captain's mouth?  Oh no!  The gauge for the engine coolant was off the charts!!!!  Oh crap!  What do we do?  What do we do?  Were we going to blow up?

He said we had to turn around and go back.  No, no, no!!!  All I could think of was how frustrating this whole (non) trip had been (with some bright spots, of course) and now we were having to abort the trip again.  Instead of going back under that dadblamed bridge, we sidled up to the docks at Harrison Yacht Sales. 

After what seemed-like-hours minutes of checking the heat of the unit with a manual thermometer, Gary realized that the cooling liquids were not poised to blow.  He surmised that the gauge was faulty.  Now this comes even after they had just tested it a few days before. 

I was barely awake before we left, but now with pounding heart, I had get back to fairly calm and peaceful as we decided to continue on our way.  To make things better, a warming sun made its appearance.  The weather was very cool, but dressed in layers and layers, we were fairly comfortable.  Well, two of us were.  The boy crawled back into his bunk with the heater dog and ended up sleeping until almost 2pm; that may have been because the night before he had stayed up all night reading "The Art of Racing in the Rain."  He couldn't put it down and was quite moved by it.

Lunch!

Rope Clutch

Wing and Wing

The sailing was almost too good to be true; less than 10 knots of wind was just fine for me. Gary (Cappy) even had lunch on the foredeck because the sun shone warmly enough to make it like a picnic. We worked on getting a line realigned after it had become tangled with another in the rope clutch (the box that leads lines from the cockpit to the sails and mast).  Sometimes we had to go wing and wing to get as much of the wind that was coming in from behind us; the main can keep the wind from hitting the jib, so if you have the main sail on one side and the jib on the other; you get freer flowing air strength.

Whisker Pole

Later in the day, when the wind lessened even more, we used a whisker pole to hold the jib out to grab every bit of wind power she could.  It worked great and we made pretty good time. 

Container ships, several other sailboats, crab boats, power boats, and the Lady Maryland came by. 

I ended up taking a nap around three o'clock, not a deep sleep, because occasionally I would see Gary or Elliott at the door, or Elliott glaring at me from the other side of the bed (he's weird), and then I was fully waked loud thrum of the engine starting up.  We were going to have to hightail it to make the curve at Point Lookout State Park before dark.  And we didn't succeed.  I will tell you right now that I'm not a fan of sailing in the darkness.  My eyesight is such that I can get by in the day, but at night, my brain, though seeing things, draws a blank as to what they mean.

Elliott and Gary were on deck, so I went down below to start heating up the leftover chili from our friends and bean soup from my stepmom.  Elliott came down to use the head.

"&$*#%#^$%@#^@#*^" came from the cockpit, as the boat was forcefully downshifted to keep from hitting what turned out to be those fishing nets so prevalent in the Potomac River.  Yikes!  (We surfed over some back in the day in our old boat during a "breezy" (Gary's term) sail after a hurricane had come through.) Scared me to death!  I flew up the companionway just in time to see the sticks just feet from the starboard side of the boat.  Oh my!

Cappy!

I made a new rule then and there; if we have to do night sailing again, there should always be two people on deck, one at the helm, and one with a flash light scanning occasionally for such impediments.  If someone comes below, they should ask the third to take their place on deck.  These stupid fish stakes are not marked on any map because they're moved around all the time and the owners don't even take the trouble to put on reflectors or lights or anything.  Gah!  Infuriating and my chest hurt from my heart pounding so hard!

Staring Contest

We anchored close by at Point Lookout State Park as that was our original plan, ate our awesome leftovers, kept as much heat in the cabin as possible since we wouldn't be turning on the heat overnight, and slipped into our sleeping bags to catch a more restful sleep.  For a seemingly wonderful calming sail, that was enough excitement for one day!  

"I'm sailing, I'm sailing. I sail! I'm a sailor! I sail!" -- "Bob Wiley" in the 1991 film What About Bob?

After being on the hard and then stuck in the marina awaiting repairs for several months, yes, MONTHS, we finally got out for a second sail this weekend.  We motored out to St. Michael's to meet up with Gary's parents for the OysterFest; we anchored and they appeared by our side in minutes and rafted up to us for the day.

We enjoyed the Fest and while a few of us went to watch the Chesapeake Retrievers in their fetching contest, Gary waited in line for fresh oysters.  We met up with him after the winner of the contest was announced and found him with two dozen oysters on his trays. While I had no original plans to join him in the gustatory treat, I piled on the cocktail sauce and had three scrumptious oysters.  Salty goodness all the way down.

Elliott and I walked over to the Boat Yard.  Elliott talked to the guys there and asked about the Caleb Jones (a skipjack berthed at Cobb Island and one on which he's done some of the cleanup work).  They remembered it being there while undergoing a great restoration, but hadn't heard anything about it after it left.  They were glad to hear where the boat was calling home and that it does go out occasionally.

After a quick lunch with the in-laws and getting them back to their boat, we walked around St. Michael's ourselves.  Our dog, Tuxedo, met so many new canine friends and some human ones, too.  We got a rum raisin/raspberry ice cream cone to share and we didn't fight over it awful much.

After we got back to the boat, Gary announced that there would be a stiff breeze the next day, so we would want to leave early.  We all had problems getting to sleep, but finally we slumbered.

In the morning, I woke knowing we'd be doing some serious sailing and my already tender stomach (oysters?  hope not!) started twisting up.  I decided to be proactive and sat outside in the morning sun and closed my eyes and did a short meditation.  I also grabbed my natural stress relief Bach's Rescue Pastilles -- I had one, then decided two would be even better.

I was at the helm when the sails were set and stayed there for some time.  Gary told me that I had a good intuitive touch at the helm and to just keep what I was doing (my stomach was in knots, though).  We averaged about 8 knots in 25-30 knot winds, with crazy gusts throwing in a few tricks now and then.  We were quite pleased with the graceful way in which Nalani handled the wind and the flukey changes.

At one point, we were heeled so far over that we saw water come up above the ports and got a few good splashes over the dodger and bimini. 

I got nervous a few times, but Gary said something that really resonated with me.  "Don't make any decisions now; wait until later to decide how the sail was for you."  I relaxed a bit then, and did my best to just be in the present and attempt to "enjoy" the ride.  (But I'm still a Nervous Nellie.)

The Kent Narrows bridge was in sight, so I knew in just a little while we'd be back in our slip.  We were struggling to not have to tack yet stay out of the shallows when we noticed another sailboat had run hard aground off our starboard bow.  Gary said we had to help them, so we anchored across the deeper water from them and he and Elliott got in the dinghy with the spare anchor and extra rode.

I watched through the binoculars and noticed that one of the men was outside the boat in knee-deep water.  Yikes.  My guys circled around and at one point, Gary got on board to help them with unfouling an anchor line that the sailor had been using to try to kedge himself loose.  Finally, with one person outside pushing on the boat and Gary on board manning the winch, the boat turned into the wind.  That seemed to satisfy the grateful boat owner and he said he'd wait for the higher tide, as he had a cottage right on shore. 

While they were gone, I coiled all the lines and straightened up the deck because I knew, considering how close we were, that we'd be motoring the short way to the bridge and into the marina.

We had our battle plan when we got near the slip; E was to grab the bow line and I had the aft.  Unfortunately, the crazy winds messed up our first pass.  Second pass was good and we tied up soundly. 

I made soup and rice for lunch, Elliott went to visit his friends, and the dog was very grateful for a traipse around some sweet dirt and grass.

P.S.  Gary and I are having a very romantic evening; he's reaching blindly under the forward head platform trying to find out where a leak is coming from and I'm hugging the bowl expertly wielding a socket wrench loosening bolts.  Oh, it's a sailor's life for me!

The Flip Side

So, a blog is where I can put down my feelings about things and yes, this is supposed to be about our grand adventure, but you know that hasn't really started yet.  So I've been throwing out the emotionality of our close quarters and the various stresses that are being visited upon us on a regular basis.

Today, I'm going to try an experiment.  During my talks last week with my friends, they gave me different perspectives about some of my closest relationships and some good advice.  So,  instead of my being upset and feeling like I'm bearing the brunt of things (I know, first world problems), I'm going to view this another way, from a more understanding perspective.  Here goes:

My son is a fifteen-year-old boy, the youngest child in our blended family.  He has an older mom than most of the kids he knows.  I am boring to him and he's right.  He wants people around who can talk and appreciate the subject of cars, cars, and more cars.  My eyes kind of glaze over when he starts bringing up horsepower and body styles, though I do love cars, especially classic cars (or rather, cars I grew up with), but I don't have any brain cells for dissecting the details like he does.

He is probably missing his friends from school.  Even though it was his original idea to be home (boat) schooled, which later grew into this cruise idea, he may have thought it would never happen.  He isn't playing soccer anymore, either, and that was a great outlet for his energy.  He had also expanded into refereeing younger players and that was a great stretch for his mind and body. 

Also, his hormones are raging and the lack of activity has dulled his senses.  He stays busier than I do, unless you count organizing lockers, grocery shopping, and finding all the local thrift shops.

He wants direction from us, as is usual with his age group, but he will also pull in the direction as much as possible, just because he can and it's all part of the test, isn't it?  He's also champing at the bit because he is eligible to get his learner's permit and all he wants to be is behind the wheel of a car.  The helm of a boat definitely lacks the sexiness of of a car's steering wheel.

He is a ridiculously smart guy at times and also sometimes incredibly caring and sweet.  He is great in social situations, very comfortable in almost any setting, whether at a party or in a more intimate gathering.  He knows more people at any marina we've been in than Gary and me put together.  Cars are usually a point of interest with these new acquaintances, but they certainly enjoy his company.

Now, the hubby has an awful lot on his shoulders and I sometimes forget that.  I find myself bored to tears sometimes and he is spread so thin you can almost see through him.

Besides the disappointment in our lightning strike and the extremely slow repair process (this marina has only one full-time mechanic out of the charter company we're using), we've also had to curtail our three-month Chesapeake Bay shakedown cruise.

He has done so much of the work himself, saving the mechanic lots of work and money.  He's probably learned more than he thought he'd ever have to know about this boat, but in hindsight, that will be a good thing down the road if we run into any more issues.  So, down time is nonexistent for him.

There are also some big work issues that have come up (I can't be detailed about this), and so he has a lot on his mind and a lot of decisions to make.  The thing that irritates me is that he doesn't call in his posse when he needs advice or help.  And I really wish he would.  His friends are very smart and some have had serious business experience that would be beneficial to him.  Ah well, what can one do?

Family health issues (both his mom and dad and my dad and stepmom) have popped up, too, and makes our ability to make firm decisions very hard.  I'm not of much use to him because I don't have the mechanical nor electrical ability that he needs for someone to help.

So, I'm coming back into the ship's belly with these ideas at the top of my mind and attempting to be more understanding and maybe a lot more kind.  And maybe I can also work on figuring out why I'm so sensitive to any critical remark, whether it's a 1 or a 10 on the scale.  The boys have promised to bring the sarcastic remarks down a few notches and consider responses before speaking.  And I know, if I speak to the logical part of my brain, my husband only wants me happy.  He'll do almost anything to guarantee that happiness, even in someone like me.

We have definitely redefined the "journey" part of this adventure.  Hope you'll continue along with us as we hope the physical journey will start soon.

Jumping Ship

I jumped ship this past week.  I guess I could have been court martialed as a deserter if I were on a military vessel.  But I wasn't and I'm not behind bars, but I did enjoy some time in "solitary."

Living in such close quarters with two men (well, one is almost a man) can be very trying on a sensitive, menopausal, grumpy, and easily bored me.  Last weekend, I fled.  I did give the captain and crew warning, but they weren't happy about it.  I still had to go; it was time.

I took the long way home, hopping off at the Woodbridge exit heading south.  I love driving through there, because things are so different while remaining so much the same.  Many memories there growing up in the 60s and 70s. 

I even drove through the old trailer park where I lived, which is still there and seems to be thriving.  It seems much smaller now, though, even though I lived there as an adult and where my oldest son was born.  Maybe because trees are growing up and filling in the once-empty spaces.  I stopped to take pictures to send to my sisters and father.

I drove on, and surprisingly, realized that I had also been worrying about our dog.  Our house/dog sitter is a very overtaxed person and is really never home.  Our neighbor was helping out with dog care, but I still thought it was time to check on how things were going for myself.

I'm glad I did as I found that a mass that had been on our dog's leg for a year (which the vet had said not to worry about) had burst open and needed attention.  Much of the week was spent on a vet visit which led to the dog's having surgery a few days later (at 7 freakin' a.m., too).  Had the mass stayed inside the skin, the dog could have gone on forever, but sometimes the blood vessels run out of oxygen and the skin dies (or, in our case, could have been teased open by a bored dog in his kennel).  Getting up early would be a good thing for me, but I realized that NONE of the stores I would venture into are open at that time of the morning.  Sheesh!  Better to sleep in, I say, and I do.

I made time to check the mail, clean the house, take out the trash, sweep off the front porch and back deck (yeah, in 24 hours, you could not notice as the leaves all came back!!), water indoor plants, do laundry (including upholstery that the dog decided to ooze on, and watch tons of television. 

I finished watching the remaining episodes of  Last Tango in Halifax, which was riveting television with great acting.  Sob, sob, sob.  Finished up a few Call the Midwife episodes and more sobbing.  Good grief?  Anything happy going on?  A Canadian fix-em-up show which has gotten to the point of the same plot line every episode.  More sobbing because they ran out of money AGAIN to finish the house.  Will they "Love It or List It?"  I can't take the stress!

I enjoyed the time at the house, but the housework was boring (still didn't get all the dust).  Met up with a girlfriend for dinner at the lovely and wonderful Mason Dixon restaurant; it was my first time since they'd moved from their old quarters.  Sparkly sweet wine and a chicken breast with pineapple, mango, and papaya was perfect.  My friend has the Turkey Rachel, also fantastic.  We walked up the street to say hello to my oldest son, who was tattooing, but took a minute for a quick hello hug.

Checked out a pawn shop later and I was able to restrain myself from buying anything realizing that I didn't want to add anything to my house nor to the boat (which is stuffed to the gills).

A get together with a another close friend was a late breakfast just yesterday.  I hadn't wanted to venture too far from home because of the dog's recovery and restrictions.  So breakfast close by was good.  My friend(s) and I can talk for hours, without noticing anyone else around us.  We got caught up on each others' lives, I showed her how to upload photos to FB, and we chatted some more. 

At some point, I heard a voice that I recognized in the booth behind us; I leaned out sideways from my booth just as that person leaned because he had heard a voice HE recognized.  I burst out laughing at the coincidence.  I've known this man and his wife for 34, 35 years, something like that.   They told me that they had just talked about whether they should come to that particular restaurant.  The wife said, "Well, Ruth comes here a lot and says it is good, so we should give it a try."  They came in and ended up sitting right behind us; I love when stuff happens that way.

After more laughs and goodbyes, my friend and I visited an art gallery on Route 3, Back Door Gallery, a real not-so-hidden treasure, to see a mutual friend's show.  I had already seen it but wanted to take her, so it was a good time all over again.  We both bought a print from this guy, so I will tell you to check out Saeed Ordoubadi's photography/mixed media show there this month!  Go now!

Being that we have no idea of our real departure date nor if we are even going to be able to make this long-anticipated trip has kept me in a weird mental limbo.  But still, I spend as much time with family when I'm home.  They are my grounding.  My daughter got the bulk of my time this week and she and my grandson and I spent time at her house reading books, messing around in the garden picking peppers and herbs, going to Miller Farms for a hayride and pumpkin picking, walking at the battlefield park, and, of course, one of my favorite things, eating some of her fantastic food.  I'm trying to convince her to put together a small cookbook; wish me luck.

So, exactly a week later, I am back at the boat, with recovering dog in tow.  Our two cats live outdoors and will be fine.  The Captain had prepared a lovely dinner (pork loin (which I don't eat, but it was lovely anyway), sauteed zucchini and onions, and rice).

As soon as I stepped on board Nalani, however, I got vertigo or something.  My stomach felt and still feels queasy.  The boat is barely moving, but I guess that time away turned me back into a land-lubbing dirt dweller much too quickly.  Either that, or I'm having a psychosomatic reaction to being back.  Ugh.  Now I know what it means to have to go back to the drawing board.  Not so good and I'm running out of chalk . . . .

Naval Academy and the U.S. Sailboat Show

As part owner of our boat insurance company, Gary has to pull one day of sitting at our booth at the U.S. Sailboat Show. When we can, Elliott and I accompany him, me mostly to climb on awesome boats and check out the wares at the show and Elliott to keep Gary company and run errands, if needed.  They've got a good system worked out during the show times.  If you've ever visited Annapolis, you know that parking is very dear.  The boat show organizers provide a shuttle bus from the Naval stadium parking lot.  They still charge a fee for parking, but you get a ride to the show and then back again after. 

Sometimes, sitting at the show can be boring as people pass you by to go check out the dinghys and luxury yachts, but Friday's crowd was very active and we had quite a few visitors and queries.  Of course, having nice canvas bags to give away does help some, but I was impressed with the traffic.  The people watching is good, too.  Salty old sailors, women who have no clue as they teeter around in high-heeled shoes on docks with slats between the boards.  One guy with crutches was not paying attention and his crutch tip went into a sewer grate; he noticed quickly enough to draw it up and continue on.

Elliott and I walked around a little bit, stopping to see the new Tesla.  My motorhead son was entranced, so I just waited on the sidelines.  Started chatting with a couple and they looked at my name badge for our company and said that we insured them and that if we're ever on the coast of Mississippi, to make sure to look them up.

Thankfully, I got some time to myself to do some wandering, too, as Elliott finished oohing over the Tesla and headed back to the booth where he actually fielded a few queries while Gary was discussing business with other potential clients.

First stop for me was the Hendrick's Gin tent; no young'ns allowed in there for free drinks.  This year, I enjoyed a Gin martini and something called a Floradora, yummy and fruity.  Hendrick's is good stuff and they put on a show.  All staff are dressed up in period-type costume and there was a gondola from a hot air balloon with a guy also dressed up in period costume who had his picture taken with my fellow drinkers.  He was good at the 

job and cracked us up! 

Because I rarely imbibe, I felt the effects of those lovely drinks before I left the tent.  As I wandered around, I was drawn into an area where several young men were selling heated massage pads.  Seemed like a good idea at the time, but when I've had a little to drink, I naturally heat up several degrees as shown by the bright red spots on my face.  So, when this guy put this HOT massage pad around my neck and shoulders, around my middle, and in my hand, and then started to give me the "oh, since you're an exhibitor, I can make you a good deal" schpiel, I got hotter and hotter, breaking out in a sweat.  Uncomfortable, the guy just kept on talking and talking until I pulled off the heat and got out of there and into the fresh air.

After another sales associate came along, we, as a family, got a quick lunch.  Gary and I walked around, bought some tea tree oil products (best stuff for boats and RVs) and stopped by Dream Boat Interiors of Jacksonville, Florida.  I was drawn to them because they had candles for boats; real wax, but no flame.  Very nice atmospheric decor.  The owners chatted with us, asking us where we were from; I said Fredericksburg.  One of the women said she knew where that was because she grew up in Woodbridge (as did I).  I asked where she went to school and we both went to the same high school; more queries found that she graduated just a year ahead of me.  How crazy is that?  Such a small world.

After stopping by Bob Bitchin's (magazine editor and entrepreneur--check him out--interesting stories) tent to get some tank deodorant, we went back to the booth and waited until closing.

Across the way, a double-handled winching contest drew crowds with lots of cheering.  There were lots of blue blazers and khaki pants, as well as lots of foul weather jackets. 

After the show, we had been invited to a Moody Boat Owners gathering on the Naval Academy campus.  I'd never been on the campus, so I was excited to visit.  Unfortunately, Gary had a knife (Leatherman) on him, and the security detail was quite annoyed with us or just everyone coming in for the show and game that weekend.  Anyway, I had to take it back to the car because they are obviously outlawed on the campus.   By the time we got that taken care of, we found out the visiting hours were over, so we had to have the host of the get together meet us so that we could get in. 

We got to meet several other couples who owned Moodys, and were happy to find that the host couple are out of the Charleston, SC, area.  This guy is also the who gave us the great info I wrote about a while back as to where to find the boxes for the winch power (remember?  Behind the mirror?).    They are a wonderful support group and we were happy to put faces to names and hope to meet up with them out on the water, whenever that may be.  It is starting to get cold . . . .

So THAT Could Have Been a Big Mistake . . . .

It snaked around the pilings and gingerly made its way aboard our boat, sliding around stanchions, slithering over the teak deck, and slipping into the lazarette, hooking itself into our electronics system.

Surprisingly, it was a gift from our friends on m/y Geraldine, but since it took about twenty years to allow one into my house, I wasn't very excited about having one on my boat.  I was a bit fearful.

But the boy had access to one at the friends' boats and was aching to be like everyone else here.  I just never thought this would be a consideration. So, we discussed it and made a decision to let it stay, just as long as it would not overtake our lives.  We are SO busy waiting for the boat to be repaired, you know?

And so far, it has kept a fairly low profile and makes its presence known only during major sporting events and those comedy shows that you cringe at but it keeps reeling you in (E and I did have a couple of those nights--"Is it really three o'clock in the morning?"); the sports are not my serious cup of tea, but I'll occasionally peek to watch an instant replay of a great catch during baseball or a soccer goal that looked impossible on the first look. 

**Egads!  I just realized that when we were readying to start sailing the Chesapeake for our shakedown cruise, it was World Cup time, and now we're in the playoffs for baseball.**  Way too long to be sitting still, I'm thinking, especially with the little black snake attaching us to shore cable.

So we'll live just a while longer with the slightly unwelcome guest; it's when I find myself flipping channels aimlessly while munching on bonbons with a glazed look in my eye that I may need an intervention.  I'll let you know, really, just after this NEXT show.  

Marina Meal Planning -- A Week of Cheap Dinners

Living in a marina has more than its share of perks, as I mentioned in my last blog post.  Getting to know people who know the system, as it were, helps to make eating out an inexpensive proposition.

Shortly after we got here, we found out that on Monday nights, a local pizza joint offers large pizzas for $6.00.  On Tuesday's (and through the rest of the weekdays), Annie's Restaurant has free food for their happy hours.  If you can nurse a watered down Coke as well as I can, you can get away with a satisfying meal for just a few bucks. 

On Wednesday nights, Red Eye's Dock Bar offers $6 burgers (though I just got the news tonight that they are only open starting on Thursdays for the cooler seasons) and they are a huge 1/3 pound of meat; of course, I don't eat red meat, but the boys love them.  For me, their Rachel Reuben has no equal and they also have other great sandwich offerings.

Thursdays can take you right back to Annie's for chicken wings and other bar/happy hour food, and then Friday, Red Eye's puts out a buffet-style meal of a main dish and a salad.  

Tonight it was beef tacos with a great green salad and Spanish rice.  Elliott and I ate two platefuls each, had a soda and an iced tea for just $6.00.  With a raucous game of cornhole afterwards, it was a great evening, even though Elliott won (just barely).

So, even though cooking on board is your best bet, the restaurants around here know how to take care of the local folks.  Cheers!