Cat Maudy Chronicles

Cat Maudy to Reedville for the winter

2011-11-06T18:13:00.002-05:00

Cat Maudy sails (or tries) south for her winter 'home'. Home this year will be Reedville VA. It's a dot on the map just south of the mouth of the Potomac. She'll be getting some work done - on the hard. Departed from Baltimore on a beautiful fall day - temps in the upper 50's. The weather window would be 3 straight days of basically ZERO wind...with light breeze from the south. South breezes mean warmer temps, so we are OK to sacrifice the sail (this time only!) for warmer temps! Three hops...day 1 to Annapolis, day 2 to Solomons MD, and day 3 to Reedville VA.

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Cat Maudy sails da'sewer waters of the Bay

2011-09-14T09:32:00.003-04:00

A week after Hurricane Lee drowned nearly every community along the Susquehanna River - we decided it was time to explore the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. We discovered...a sewer...debris large enough to puncture recreational boats, submerged huge blue barrels of questionable contents...and the water took on a shade of chocolate brown.

Despite the downsides...Cat Maudy left the Baltimore dock...for sail time...and ended the day in Annapolis.

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Winter on land...

2011-03-21T08:54:00.001-04:00

3 months of winter on land in suburbia Maryland wasn't all that bad. It could have been worse....like a winter in Canada (brrrrr). We spent our time on land....

-working working working....computer clients keeping us busy!
-created a Cat Maudy simulator to test out navionics and software

-keeping the wood stove stoked - especially when we lost power for 2 days in mid-winter snow storms

-not exercising enough (OK...anything less than an 8 hour day of endorphins is cutting it short)
-learning how to cook in a "land kitchen" - where the food cooks at warp speed
-fixing a 55 year old patio that was becoming one with the earth
-wondering if Cat Maudy missed it's captains...

And finally - it is spring! The return to Cat Maudy is now within weeks....let the sailing season begin!

Cat Maudy morphs into an Igloo

2010-12-11T06:27:00.003-05:00

For months, Captain Paddy informs me "it's coming". He is referring to our least favorite time of year -- called winter. I know what you're thinking. Paddy has amazing insights 'bout the coming of the "seasons".

The nuances of weather are amplified when you are engaged in an extended camping trip - on a catamaran. For us, the arrival of winter in Baltimore looks like:

1) frost on the dock making for a slippery and treacherous AM walk from Cat Maudy to shore.

2) no more running water. The marina decided to shut this off. It has something to do with 20 degree weather. Our running water consists now of whatever is left in our tanks. And that's not much.

3) the cockpit of Cat Maudy is filled with bottles of pink liquid. That would be anti-freeze.

4) Captain Paddy's mood is not so good. He has to put the pink liquid into the engine, the hoses...and anything else that will freeze and break.

5) our 'boat camping' experience is restricted to the salon. This is the only section of Cat Maudy that has any heat. We run all computers day an nite -- to add to the heat factor!

6) we run our propane heater INSIDE. Some might consider this hazardous. Yes, the fumes could kill you. But we're desperate for heat.

7) we avoid going down into the hulls for any reason. Here, your breath looks like puffballs of fog.

8) wool hats and 5 layers of clothing are worn 24/7. I'm starting a new hairstyle - called the matted hat look.

9) winds are blowing from the north - steady 25-35 knots - forcing new cold air to leak into Cat Maudy's uninsulated structure. It's breezy inside.

If that isn't enough to push us to land life (or better yet, migrate south for the winter!), now the igloo people have arrived. The shrink wrap boys. Within hours (and in between wind gusts) - Cat Maudy is covered in a sea of white taut plastic. The good news is, that the wind gusts no longer send blasts of cold air thru Cat Maudy's uninsulated structure. But there is a downside.

The entrance into Cat Maudy is a tiny door....that rests at an angle....making getting ON or OFF Cat Maudy a Cirque du Soleil challenge.

Here is how it works. First, you lie down on your belly and squirm around in the cold fiberglass cockpit or fishdeck...and with your arms, swim your way thru the tiny shrink wrap door. Don't stop with any momentum you have made via "swimming". Start kicking with your legs, until you are through the opening. If you are going OUTBOUND, grab onto something so that you don't slide into the 40 degree water. If you are going INBOUND - resist the temptation to stand up. Keep flailing with your arms and legs until you are past the helm station. Then, work your way up to a standing position.

Watch the videos of Paddy and Jane demonstrating their unique styles on how to enter the Cat Maudy Igloo....

After 3 days of igloo life, I caved. As much as I resisted making any transition back to land - (knowing full well it would be a temporary transition) - the igloo broke my spirit. We dragged off the boat anything that could turn to mold for the next 3 months, contents of the 'fridge, and of course Soxy....and reluctantly patted Cat Maudy a temporary good bye. Let me emphasize TEMPORARY. Don't worry Cat Maudy, the first warm spell (above 30 degrees), we'll be back. OK??

Cat Maudy hangs on as mighty mighty winds (tornado!) rip thru Baltimore

2010-11-17T17:41:00.027-05:00

It was 1:34AM, and I'm pretty sure I was in a deep sleep...when suddenly Soxy and I bolted to a wide eyed upright position. The noise was deafening....and I shook Paddy to wake him. Paddy can sleep thru any weather condition, and it is my job to share these moments. I don't want him to miss out. "Listen....listen to that noise" I demanded. It sounded like a freight train. The same sound we've experienced twice before - while aboard Cat Maudy. The sound of a tornado.

The winds roared so loud, you couldn't hear much else...except for our typically still water now turbulently breaking into Cat Maudy's hulls. I peeked out our hatch -- to see a violent sea state. I've never seen the waters in our protected cove at Anchorage Marina quite so upset. I am hoping that all of Cat Maudy's lines hold tight to dockside. I peer out another hatch to check on our anchored neighbors....and not one of the anchored boats is holding ground. Frantic sailors are doing their best to avoid crashing into nearby docks or boats.

Within 2 minutes....the wind driven freight train had moved through. We have escaped yet another tornado "direct hit". And our anchored neighbors are busy looking for a safer spot for the night. In the news...

Capt'n Janie's scary mast invention

2010-10-21T14:16:00.009-04:00

It might appear that I have too much time on my hands. Not so. Actually, it has more to do with insomnia. I lay awake thinking... thinking... thinking.... and every now and then there is an idea that won't let go.

Here are my ideas for Cat Maudy's mast re-design.

Problem: How to modify the design of the top of our mast, so that Cat Maudy can easily navigate under 65' bridges on the ICW without having to hoist one of the captains 63 feet above the water to remove "gear" that adds 2 or more feet to our "Air Draft"....and then return back UP to the top...when sailing in open water. Too much captain hoisting!!

Solution: The adjustable HINGED-HOLLOW-SPREADER with controls at the base of the mast to allow either (a) open water sailing with gear resting ATOP the mast or (b) bridge navigation with gear resting at some acceptable angle below the mast.

Watch this scary video for more on Capt'n Janie's invention ;-)

Note: This design has not been approved by Captain Paddy

Slowin' it down....in Reedville VA

2010-10-08T21:29:00.002-04:00

Not a whole lot happens in Reedville VA. Located near the southern end of the mouth of the Potomac River....Reedville is about as remote as it gets.

You will find the Menhaden fish factory nearby. This means that during "processing hours" (i.e. all day long) it smells like dead fish irregardless of which way the wind is blowin'. The locals say you get used to it. Hard to imagine.

Next to the local Cessna airport...is Jaynes Marine. It's a new "cat" yard (catamaran) on the Chesapeake -- and we are here to talk about "cat repairs" to Cat Maudy. Doug spent hours with Paddy talkin' guy boat stuff....while I spent my time eating chicken soup and trying to bounce back from a nasty cold.

By Thursday, we decided to leave Cat Maudy here for the remainder of the fall...and get her back in ship-shape. Then reality set in. Biz was callin'. And by Friday, we decided to procrastinate the repairs until the spring - once our computer work settled into a more manageable pace.

So, for now, we get to breath "real air" without that fish scent upon departing Reedville, knowing that this feature will wait for us when we return in the spring.

Captain all grins as Cat Maudy screeches down the Bay

2010-10-03T14:45:00.006-04:00

Winds 15-20 from the NW, with gusts to 25. This is Captain Paddy's ideal world. Only one bit of data to potentially foil the day...rains and gale force winds to kick in later. "Later" is the operative word. Would we make it to Reedville VA before the weather intensifies?

Departed Annapolis harbor by 8AM, and we wasted no time raising the main sail, and turning off the diesel engines. Haven't even unfurled the jib sail - and we are already doing over 8 knots. As we get closer to the mouth of the Severn, the full force of the winds are felt. For an hour or more, we sail with just the main.

It doesn't take long to see that the weather is "changing" and the skies are getting darker. We need to make better time. Thus, we unfurl the jib sail...reefed. Cat Maudy easily hits 9-10 knots, for a very smooth sail with winds off our stern quarter. Somewhere near the mouth of the ChopTank River...a huge freighter called the "Northern Juvenile", traveling at 21 knots makes a sudden turn directly at us. WOAH!! After a brief "holy sh#$" moment...Captain Paddy headed up and Cat Maudy INHALED the wind....getting us out of the path of the "Juvenile" in the nick of time. NOTE TO SELF: Big freighters make their own rules as to where the channels are in the bay...

Generally, when I get a call from shore (my brother) giving me weather updates -- this usually means the weather is going south faster than predicted. Sure enough, BRO reports heavy weather in Solomons, MD by noon. We are 11 miles to Cove Point - near the Pawtuxent River. The winds gusts are now increasing, and Cat Maudy tops out at 13.2 knots. Sweet.

The skies are dark, and the rains have started. We are 2 miles from the entrance to the Patuxent River - and decide to abandon the notion of finishing todays trip in Reedville VA. Instead, we'll take cover in Solomons, MD. Our 50 mile trip to Solomons took just over 5 hours of sail time.... Needless to say - Captain Paddy is in a very happy place!

Woa - we actually LEFT the dock in Baltimore!

2010-10-02T15:14:00.002-04:00

After a failed first attempt on Friday...Saturday's departure from Baltimore proved more successful. The winds have subsided MUCH from gale force - and it appears we will have a leisurely, no hurry sail south to Annapolis.

Leisurely it is. Highest speeds are 6 knots...and by the time we reached the Chesapeake Bay Bridge...we had slowed to 1.5 knots. This is a notch above floating backwards. The winds have disappeared. We motored to Annapolis harbor and decided to grab a mooring to stimulate the Annapolis economy (and grab showers, water taxi and all that fun stuff).

On shore, I just "HAD" to go for a 4 mile run through the Naval Academy...Jus Say'n!

Tropical Storm Nicole: 1 Cat Maudy: 0

2010-10-01T14:19:00.005-04:00

Now that the rainy portion of Tropical Storm Nicole has moved north of Baltimore - we are left with her tailwinds. A bit fiesty (some call this GALE FORCE) - and strangely I was game for a sail to Annapolis.

We waited til noon - giving me ONE LAST EXERCISE OP and the gale winds a chance to subside based on professional weather forecasters. If you ask me, the winds got stronger after noon - but hey, who's askin'? Paddy and I finished provisioning for a trip of unknown length, and only one known destination. Where the wind is blowing. The wind is blowing from the north - so it should be a fast sail - to whereever we decide to stop.

Left the A Dock at Anchorage Marina around noon...and we are quickly blown out past Ft. McHenry. "Maybe we should double reef the main?" I suggested to Paddy? Captain Paddy positioned Cat Maudy upwind and had plenty of work to do to hold her in place, while I attempted to raise the main to a double reef point. Once in place, all 3 of the reef lines need to be tightened.

I tried using my strength. No luck in tightening these lines. I tried the power tool....it sounded like the rigging would break. I tried step 3 - which usually works...."salty sailor talk". No avail. The reef lines are jammed up - and in these heavy wind conditions...there was no fixin her.

We had only one choice...to return back to base camp. The problem now, is that our A-DOCK landing (perpendicular to the winds) would be very tough to land a wide-ass catamaran. So, we made an emergency landing on the Anchorage P-DOCK. From a dock point of view, we traveled about 500 feet today.

And the reef lines? They were just "tangled". Likely I never noticed the "tangle" - as I usually do not depart knowing I have to double reef. For today, Tropical Storm Nicole wins. Cat Maudy will depart dockage tomorrow.

Cat Maudy leaves the dock for Labor Day!

2010-09-05T09:19:00.006-04:00

After 60 days of scorching temperatures over 90 degrees in the mid-Atlantic, a typical shortage of summer winds (which would have been too hot anyway), an exercise regimen that included 5 sprint triathlons and a host of other excuses (oh yeah - WORK!) - Labor day weekend changed all of that.

Temperatures plunged into the delightful range of mid 70's, the humidity is gone, and thanks to a "cold front" - winds are steady 20s with gusts to 30. If Cat Maudy can't get outta Dodge now...then she better have a pretty good reason.

In typical Cat Maudy form...we had no plan. Other than to depart the dock, and get the best angle on the winds. Where we are headed is unknown. How long we'll be gone - again unknown.

What is known...is Soxy's tummy wasn't quite ready for motion. Soxy has been living large being an 'A Dock' kitty at Anchorage Marina for the summer - and suddenly bouncing around in waves was not part of her plan. Soxy is not in a good mood.

We put a reef in the main, and headed out the Patapsco River doing steady 8.5 knots. Added a reefed jib sail - and speeds are up to 10 knots. Unlike Soxy, Captain Paddy is grinning ear to ear and easily holding onto his lunch.

With winds from the west - we had many options once we reached the mouth of the Patapsco River. Feeling spontaneous, we opted to head south.... Will we then turn into the Magothy River? Nope.

We continued south under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge - and considered a nice quiet anchorage at Whitehall Bay vs a more 'urban' anchorage in Annapolis. True to form, we couldn't decide - and opted to just let Cat Maudy go where she wanted. She choose Annapolis. We anchored in front of the US Naval Academy - and enjoyed an evening of glorious temperatures in the 60s and 70s.

Road Trip to the Adirondacks: Little Sand Point provides more endorphin highs

2010-07-18T17:09:00.003-04:00

After Paddy's successful debut in the world of triathlon relays - it was obvious that perfect weather, and temperatures in the mid-70's were calling for more "activities". Our wake up early AM conversation went something like this.

Jane: "Do you want to go for a walk?"
Paddy. "No".
Jane: "Do you want to hike up Panther Mountain today?"
Paddy: "No".
Jane: "OK. Maybe you should drink more coffee....I'll go for a bike sprint around the lake...and we'll continue this conversation when I return."
Paddy: "OK"

I know better than to try to get a "yes" from a man who hasn't had enough coffee. With that, Mr. Huffy (heavy duty Trek bike with the fat wide tires) and I took off for a nice workout around Piseco Lake. I did stop and smell the roses....and take some blog pics. The scenery in the Adirondacks is too incredible to simply blur on a bike sprint.

By the time I had returned to our campsite - Paddy was in an agreeable mood. We took off for a hilly bicycle tour along Old Piseco Road - and burned off another 6-8 miles.

It was another windy day in the Adirondacks, and the little lake was all churned up. It was Day 3 of fun in the Adirondacks - and we now had this lake swim figured out. Swimming would be in ONE direction - i.e. WITH the wind and waves. Add a boogie board and flippers for the return trip (against the wind and waves) - and you have a perfect swim/fun water workout.

The "monkey" appears to be finally off my open water swim back. Not completely, but a little bit maybe. For the first time, I carried on a conversation while swimming (other than "Paddy - get closer!")....laughed at one of Paddy's jokes.....and at one point even took off far from my Paddy/boogie board safety net -- to swim the final 300 yards to shore. A pretty big moment in my "learn how to swim as an ol' fart" world.

Piseco Lake is a fantastic lake for swimming. Fresh water. Clean fresh water. Perfect temperatures. No lake grasses. Another week in this environment - and I might actually become a real swimmer. For now....making big strides will be enough.

We returned to our campsite, and made a roaring campfire. Paddy wanted to toss in all of the pine firewood all at once. This probably wasn't such a good idea - since the fire got pretty high. But we didn't burn down anything - and roasted a bunch of marshmallows.

After 3 days in the Adirondacks, the lack of internet, or any technology has become a wonderful loss. I have ceased checking my Blackberry, and whatever happens in the rest of the world - can stay there. I'm not quite ready to depart from this magical place - but I'm pretty sure we will be back again next year.

Road Trip to the Adirondacks: Piseco Lake Triathlon

2010-07-17T17:06:00.001-04:00

It is 6:30AM, and Paddy and I are busy prepping for the Piseco Lake Triathlon. Paddy remarks this would be a good sailing day. Translation -- it's windy. The wind gods were ignoring my pleas for calm waters. As we sat on the campsite picnic table - looking out over the waterfront - there was no mistaking that sound. The sound of waves lapping the shoreline - one right after another. I saw whitecaps build on the lake. I’m not sure I can do an open water swim in whitecap conditions. I'm not even sure I can do an open water swim in calm conditions... I start thinking of better ways to spend my day rather than attempt this open water swim. But, this TRI is not simply a "jane pursuit" today -- I had convinced Paddy to join me as a relay team. We would be the "Team TRI -- Jane and Paddy". I would do the swim and bike -- and Paddy would complete the 3rd leg in the event -- the walk or jog to the finish. We are a team. I had to at least...TRY. Paddy was counting on me.

Paddy and I hop on our bicycles - for a 4 mile ride from our campsite, to the Irondequoit Inn. We could have driven the monster RV - but it didn't seem right to move the beast once it had nestled into our campsite. The Irondequoit Inn is a bed and breakfast, that sits overlooking Piseco Lake at the northern tip. It has a tennis court, sprawling land with fabulous views, and a soft sandy beachfront. The Irondequoit Inn is hosting the start of the triathlon - the swim portion. Perhaps the water would appear less lumpy from the beachfront? I had high hopes for calm "seas".

Paddy is happy to be done with the hilly bike ride from the campsite. He takes a rest at the top of the hill, while I head to the water to study the swim course. I'm hesitant to register for the TRI, until I have a chance to see the swim course close up. I've only done 3 open water swims prior to this event -- and in each case I had a personal swim buddy (or buddies) near my side. Today, I would be by myself. I stare at the course. A line of buoys runs parallel to the shoreline. I make a few mental notes. I could swim to shore if I get in a panic. The winds and waves have increased. There is no denying it - the water is choppy.

One lone race official is busy prepping the swim exit chutes. I ask him a zillion questions. The little people in my head want to know many things. "Is the water over my head" I asked. "Yes - at least 10 feet" he assured me -- as if I was hoping that he would say "yeah - it's nice and deep for you". The direction of the a quarter mile swim is out-and another quarter mile back. You follow a line of buoys into the waves and wind then turn around and swim with the wind and waves on the way back to shore.. The official assured me there would be big pontoon boats 300 yards apart for the swimmers to grab. In case you need a rest. He assured me there would be plenty of kayaks and canoes for swimmer support. It all sounded well organized. I'm still not sure I can do this -- but Paddy and I decide to go and register anyway.

Paddy and I hopped back on our bikes – for a 1/2 mile ride to the Piseco Lake Airport. Registration for the TRI occurs here - at the Piseco Airport grounds. We filled out a form, handed over some moolah – and signed up as a team. There it is. In print. I would do the swim and bike, and Paddy would do the walk / jog.

The Piseco Lake Triathlon is a unique Triathlon. Not that I am worldly when it comes to triathlons - but I have done a few. Here in the Adirondacks, they do not use official “race chips” to automatically time the participants. There are no bike numbers or running bib numbers. As a matter of fact - there are no paper numbers at all. No numbers except the numbers you are body-marked with. The theory is -- once you enter or exit each leg of the event - you loudly call out your number to the race official. This is how they keep track of you. I love it. Very low-tech. Very Adirondack.

As we handed the registration form to the race official, the nice lady gave me a green post-it sticky with the number C-42. This is our team number. C-42. We are instructed to take the green postit sticky marked C-42 to the body marking lady – and she will write our number on our arms and legs. Body marking is the only way for the race officials to know who you are. Paddy and I now have C-42 written all over our arms and legs. I think this means we are officially registered.

Now mind you - nobody handed us a map, or any instructions for the Piseco Lake Triathlon. Just the little green post it sticky with our number - C42. I assumed that was all we needed to know.

Paddy and I hopped back on our bicycles - and rode back to the Irondequoit Inn. There are no bike racks...no "personal space" that is marked only for you. Just find a spot on the lawn or tennis court - and leave your bike there. This is how the Piseco Lake Triathlon works. You pick a spot in the sand - any ol' spot will do. So Paddy and I left our bikes near the tennis court fence.

I look around at the other bikes, and note some very serious athletes here. Some bikes were equipped with $5000 bike wheels on top of fancy $5000 bike frames. These bikers must know how to ride in nearly "off road" conditions on a race bike. I had already opted NOT to use Ms. Madone for this event. Why? Not because I’m mad at Ms Madone for becoming a noodle during my last 2 triathlons. Not because we’ve had words. Instead, the roads around Piseco lake seem more like a dirt trail, rather than smooth pavement. Huge potholes, gravel and lots of road dugouts. The old Trek jalopy (i.e. Mr. Huffy Puffy) with the big fat wheels will be my bike of choice today. Mr. Huffy won’t be anywhere near as fast as Ms. Madone – but he is much better equipped to handle the terrain.

Riding Mr. Huffy simplifies the equipment needs too. No special clip on shoes are required, I can just wear my running sneakers. Paddy is busy holding on to a coffee mug, my swim goggles and swim cap, smoking a pre-Triathlon cigarette and proudly displaying his body marks – C42. This is his way of getting psyched up. We head down to the beach. Other triathletes have gathered and it is becoming quite a crowd.

Other swimmers are commenting on the lake conditions. Most of the chatter revolves around how “choppy” the lake is. The winds have picked up, and I’m having many self doubts. The little people in my head are chatting nonstop about how rough the water has become. It’s time to tone down the little people. I look at the pontoon boats who are now in position along the swim course. I discuss strategy with my team – Paddy. “I think I can make it between pontoon boats – so I just have to swim from boat to boat.” Plus,, there are lots of support boats swarming around. “I think I can do this” I finally said to Paddy. "I think I can do this". Paddy nods in agreement. He hopes the swim starts soon so he doesn't have to listen to my incessant anxiety over the open water swim.

The official with the megaphone announces it is time to get in the water. We all get in the water at once. A big crowd lurches forward. There are no swim waves, no organization of swimmers….just everyone gets in the water at the same time. Of course I linger back. Way back. If I stayed any further back - I would be standing on shore. Every other swimmer is far ahead of me. The whistle blows….and the bodies surge forward into the water. It is pretty shallow at the start – so we get to walk along ways in the water before we need to start swimming. There is no turning back now.

I am the very last swimmer into the water by a long shot, and I’m hoping that all of the support boats take notice. My message is keep a close eye on me OK? I start swimming. So far so good. No panic, I’m just breathing and getting into a rhythm. I make it to the first pontoon boat no problem – and consider continuing on to the next pontoon boat without stopping. On second thought it is a bit of a distance to the 2nd pontoon boat. I stop for a moment and catch my breath.

It is a LOT harder than I thought. That is, swimming into a headwind, and waves. Due to the curve in the shoreline, the further out into the lake I swam, the the bigger the waves. I’m doing my best to stay on top of the waves – but it isn’t working too well. The waves run close together, and they are breaking over me. I just need to get to the next pontoon boat. That's my only thought. I am actually passing other swimmers. Pretty rare for me – and I only hope that the support boats are still paying attention.

I arrived at the 2nd pontoon boat – and now I’m breathing hard. Not because I’m panicked, but it is VERY hard swimming in these conditions. Head wind, and waves crashing over your face - unrelenting. This makes my swimming pool practice sessions seem like easy-peasy. But it's time to let go of the pontoon boat, and head for the next one. A particularly big wave crashes over me and I suck down a bunch of Piseco Lake. For a moment, I panicked. I called out loudly for help. And immediately flipped on my back to try to relax. Get a grip Jane. I don’t need help….I can do this. The big people in my head are in charge of the little people now – and I can do this. I did the back stroke for awhile and this was much easier. Somehow, I made it to the last outbound pontoon boat.

I meet up with a fellow triathlete swimmer - who is clinging on to the final pontoon boat. “Are you ok?” he asks. “Yeah” I reply. “Just need to catch my breath”. He responds – “Come on darlin – you and I will do this together”. At that point, we exchanged names. Meet Hank. My new swim buddy. Hank leads the way to the final orange buoy, and I follow obediently. Hank yells out to one of the support boats -- "keep a close eye on us ok?". Hank encourages me to keep swimming. Suddenly - I was no longer alone. Along with another pokey swimmer in our proximity (Joe) and a lady who was too tired to tell us her name….we had become a uniquely bonded swim team of 4. The final 4 swimmers in the Piseco Lake Triathlon who are in the water longer than anyone else, and pretty damned determined to complete the swim. From this point - until we reached the shoreline, we would be looking out for each other.

I rounded the final orange buoy in the outbound direction. Hallelulah. We can now turn around and head back. Finally we are swimming WITH the waves and the wind – and it is SOOO much nicer. Our team of 4 - swam from pontoon boat to pontoon boat – together. Here is how it went down. We would all decide we were "ready" to depart from one pontoon boat - and swim to the next. Usually I was the first to arrive at a pontoon boat (go figure that?!)....and I wasted no time locating the swim ladder to hang onto - and catch my breath. Technically, I was feeling pretty good at this point, but I wasn't going to leave my new friends behind. “Hank – over here – I’ve got a swim ladder with your name on it”, and Hank would always replay “Jane – you’re the best, I’ll be rite there”. Then I would yell – “How are you doing Joe” – and he would check in as well. After a few seconds of rest at the pontoon boat – Hank would ask if we are ready to keep going…and despite how tired any of us felt – we always replied “ yeah - lets do it”.

This scene repeated itself from one pontoon boat to the next….and finally Hank yelled out to me “Jane – you can stop swimming now – we can stand up”. Music to my ears and sure enough I could stand. Our little team of 4 had made it – and we were bonded through the remainder of the TRI. We were smiling now, with high-fives all around. It was an incredibly satisfying moment standing on the beach….having conquered the high winds and waves.

Paddy patiently waits for me to wipe the sand off my feet - and stuff my bare feet into my sneakers. Paddy's turn is soon coming. We trot up the hill together from the beach…to the tennis court – where Mr. Huffy Puffy is waiting. I hop on, only to discover that the seat position is set for someone with a height of Michael Jordan. I never realized Paddy was so tall? This won’t work – I can’t reach the pedals. I hop off…and spend a few minutes adjusting the seat height. Off I go.

Since I am at, or nearly at dead last – I wonder if I’ll see any bikers at all. Especially riding on Mr. Huffy. Three miles later – my wish came true. I see a biker who is body marked. A fellow triathlete. I realize I’m riding Mr. Huffy – who is a magnitude of 10 times slower than Ms. Madone – but I can’t resist chasing a bicycle. Even on Mr. Huffy. Mr. Huffy and I quickly pass the first biker…and I begin thinking there are more cyclists ahead. Soon I pass a group of 5….then more and more appear. Mr. Huffy and I are super excited to be back with a pack of athletes – and not at the end. I’m guessing that I passed between 30-40 bikers. The vibe is tremendous along the bike route. Piseco Lake residents are out cheering us on – and there are race organizers everywhere - all busy writing down your number as you go past. I'm not really sure if I'm supposto - but I yell out "C42" every time I see someone "official". In case they need to know.

As I near the turn to head back to the Irondequoit Inn – the road becomes a buzz with race officials and volunteers yelling out frantically to the cyclists – to “go to your right”. Hmmm…this can’t be correct – as I know that my next turn to get back to the Irondequoit Inn (where Paddy is patiently waiting) is to go to my left. Maybe I have to go around some little road for more mileage?

Nope. We are herded into a parking lot at at the Piseco Lake Elementary school. I notice well over 100 bikes just laying about across a field. What’s going on here? Then I see a sign – pointing to the exit for the runners. What? I’m nowhere near the Irondequoit Inn – and Paddy is waiting for me to hand off the invisible “wand” so that he can be the 3rd leg of the triathlon. Nobody told us that the bikers would NOT be returning to the Irondequoit Inn where we started the swim. Instead – we have to start the run leg from a completely different location.

Back at the Irondequoit, Paddy is becoming the information hot line for triathlon spectators. “When will the athletes be returning here” – peeps would ask Paddy. “Soon….the bikers will come back here – and then the runners will take off” - Paddy confidently advised. Tho it sure is strange, Paddy thought -- "surely ONE biker should have returned by now". But, Paddy patiently waits – and tells others to do the same. “They’re coming” he insists.

I drop my bike like all others (at any ol spot in the field) at the Piseco Elementary school, whip off my helmet…and start running. This is crazy. What if I had ridden Ms. Madone with my special clip on bike shoes. I would not have been able to run (or walk) in these. What about Paddy? He is waiting for me back at the Irondequoit Inn! I assumed that the transition area was back where we started???

Despite the confusion…I had my cell phone with me. I called Paddy and simultaneously started to run toward the Piseco Airport. I'm breathing pretty hard cuz I just biked Mr. Huffy into the ground and passed 40 bikers to give us a shot of not being last - and Paddy can't understand a word of what I'm saying. I keep repeating myself. “I don’t know what’s going on – but they had us start the run from a completely different spot” I panted. “You have to leave the Irondequiot Inn now…and walk past the airport until you see me” I instructed Paddy - who was every bit as clueless about this transition from the bike to run – as I. “Just start walking…and we’ll meet up in the middle”.

Paddy trots like a bat-outta-hell…and is walking with big long strides. Beads of sweat form at his forehead....and his t-shirt is beginning to resemble a sponge. Neither of us know what the heck just happened to the transition area…but for some reason – in the Adirondacks, a triathlon means there are 3 separate locations where you can end up. The lady forgot to write this on the green postit sticky with C-42. The first location is at the lake (Irondequoit Inn). The second location is as the Piseco Elementary School – where you ditch your bike anywhere….and start running toward the 3rd location – the Piseco Airport. Oh my.

My swim buddy Hank (who I passed on the bike) – had caught up to me on the run. We shared more high-5s and cheered each other on. We will probably never see each other again - but I can assure you we are tri-buddies for life. I wasn’t planning on running today – and my focus was finding my teammate Paddy - so that he could have his glory moment. And there he is….in his unmistakable orange t shirt. Hustling his butt to complete the 3rd leg in our team relay. I must say, I have never seen Paddy walk this fast. There was a genuine giddyup in his stride, and he was sweating bullets.

As we made our way along Old Piseco Road toward the Piseco Airport – finally a large group of race organizers were in sight – marking the finish line. “What do you think Paddy – should we run in the last 20 feet together” I asked. “How much is 20 feet” Paddy inquired, clearly tired, yet determined to make a good finish. As we got closer – the triathletes who had already finished – were actively cheering in those of us yet to reach the finale. “Come on Paddy – lets run it in”….and with my prodding, the peer pressure of the cheering crowd – and the excitement of the moment -- there was no stopping Paddy. He jogged across that finish line – as we held hands high for a spectacular moment for Team C42.

Paddy had done it. He completed his first triathlon relay event - and he was clearly diggin' the endorphins. We headed straight to the food tent – and discovered they were serving homemade ice cream. I absolutely love this triathlon. Ok - there was a bit of confusion over multiple transition areas - but that can be long forgotten with some homemade ice cream.

It is now our turn to be supportive spectators. We wait, watch and cheer on the remaining triathletes as they cross over the finish line. Paddy and I - team C42 were FAR from last place…and we spent the next 45 minutes cheering peep after peep.

Our triathlon day is not over yet - there is more exercise on the agenda. It’s time to retrieve our equipment – which by now is spread in 2 separate locations. I opt to head back to the Eleementary School and grab Mr. Huffy. It will be a 3 mile walk…but I’ll get there eventually. Paddy heads back to the Irondequoit Inn – for another mile of walking – to grab Ms. Madone. We agree to reconvene at the Irondequoit Inn.

Fortunately for me, a fellow triathlete driving her pickup truck along Old Piseco Road -- offers to give me a ride. How delightful. I found Mr. Huffy lying in the field at the Piseco Elementary School– right where I left him – and rode him back to meet up with Paddy. Here we traded bikes. I was reunited with Ms. Madone – and Paddy is back with Mr. Huffy. Paddy and I road our bikes along the remaining 4 hilly miles back to the campsite.

The day was classic Adirondack magic. We are in the heart of the beautiful, tranquil Adirondack Park, where the temperatures are in the upper 70's and the vibe is fantastic. Paddy completes his first EVER relay triathlon. He did it. He hustled. And finished strong. And if the TRI athletics weren’t enuf, he rides his bike on hilly Adirondack miles - just to show up at the event.

That new giddyup in his step....lasted the rest of the weekend. Rock on Paddy. As for me, there were 4 people who had to be pulled from the water that day. 4 people who did NOT complete the swim. And I wasn’t one of them.

Road Trip to the Adirondacks: Endless Rain

2010-07-16T16:59:00.002-04:00

In Maryland there is something of a drought occurring. It is well into the 90 degree range every day, and the earth is scorched a dusty brown. People walk around in a daze, with their tongues hanging down to the road like dogs…unless they have found an air conditioned escape. In upstate New York – it is monsoon season. Temperatures are in the 70 degree comfort zone…and it’s raining. Rain is not part of my plan.

Of course we are nice and dry in our big RV box – but I am getting worried about getting rained out of a day of open water swim on Piseco Lake. You see, Saturday (tomorrow) is the Piseco Lake Triathlon. Convenient how this triathlon just HAPPENS to occur during the time we are in a camper-DOO just a few miles down the road. But I need to swim in the lake. Swimming in open water is not one of my strong suits – so a little practice swim would be helpful.

By 5PM, the rains have ceased – and we whip into swim gear. For Paddy, swim gear includes a boogie board and diver fins. He will be swimming by my side, as I attempt to swim otherwise unaided from our campside (23A) to the official campsite beach – ¼ mile away.

There is a bit of a breeze, and the duo Paddy-Janie team heads out into deep water, parallel to the shoreline. I like swimming with the wind and waves, and waste no time making it to our destination. Paddy fins along on the boogie board no less than 10 feet away. I actually have enough energy to carry on a conversation. Something like – “Paddy – you are too far away – get closer”. Irregardless that the conversation revolves around swim proximity – things have certainly changed from 2 years back – where I would not have had any air in my lungs for chatter.

We turn to head back, and the practice swim becomes more of a struggle. The wind and waves makes it much harder to swim in the opposite direction, and eventually I grab on to the boogie board and let Paddy guide us back. I sure hope it is not windy tomorrow for the triathlon.

Road Trip to the Adirondacks: Soxy goes camping in a CAMPER-DOO

2010-07-15T20:10:00.015-04:00

Thursday: 7/15/2010

We departed Thursday morning from an unrelenting heat wave in Maryland. Cat Maudy is idled at the dock. No wind. Extreme heat. It was time to get outta Dodge (also known as the Port of Baltimore). The plan, was an extended weekend camping trip – in one of the most remote, areas of the Adirondacks. An area where people bring tents, and leave all toys behind. A place where there is no internet…a place where there are no showers…no mainstream grocery stores for miles. A place where only the most hearty of campers visit, year after year.

And then there is us. We rented a monster RV. There would be no electric hookup, no sewage hookup, no water where we are headed….but it didn’t matter. We are determined to enjoy some basic creature comforts in our big rental RV – including (a) an escape from bugs (b) a porta-potty built in (c) and a way to bring along Soxy on a camping adventure. Oh yeah, and the thought of NOT having to pitch a tent, and wonder if the bears would be sniffing the tent perimeter all night is another benefit.

We picked up the big RV rig in Harrisburg PA. It is 23 feet in length and looks huge parked next to our car. Soxy will love this. NOT. Soxy does not like it when her home is moving, and spent most of the 9 hour trip crying as loudly as she could. Eventually, she gave up making noise – and then wanted nothing to do with us. Soxy is not seeing the big picture here – and obviously doesn’t appreciate the benefits of RV’n over tenting. Or perhaps she is just mad that I forgot her litter box.

Paddy took to the RV helm, and guided the beast among the thick traffic along I-81 through Pennsylvania. It didn’t take long to notice that the RV drinks a LOT of gas. It is also obvious that there are no grocery stores along any of the exits on I-81. Soxy will just have to cross her legs until we can find her a litter box. In the meantime, we are growing broke feeding the RV at the pump.

Somewhere in the burbs of Binghamton NY, Paddy handed over the RV helm to me. Within minutes, google routed us along some tiny country road with no shoulder, filled with winding turns and steep hills. I had my hands full keeping the RV on the road. The beast is not easy to drive. As we drop down on a 7% grade, the RV transmission goes bizerk. I can’t slow her down, and I can’t get the transmission to stop revving. I am beginning to wonder if I am surrounded with bad juju on downhills. Finally the beast breaks out of its transmission funk…and I’m back to wondering if the next downhill will be as breathtaking.

We make it to Norwich NY. The home of Walmart. I race inside of the supercenter the size of 10 football fields…and ask 4 Wal-greeters for directions to the pet department. Poor Soxy has gone the entire day without a litter box, pissed as hell at the fact that her home keeps moving….and no longer on speaking terms with the big people navigating the RV ship. I found a litter box and litter in the biggest store I have ever set foot in….and raced out as quickly as possible hoping to never have to need this Walmart supercenter again. Soxy is back in business.

Paddy takes over the helm after my transmission trauma….and drives the RV beast through Utica and beyond. Beyond takes us to one more gas station for a fill up…before we can enter “Adirondack Park”. Once in Adirondack Park, good luck finding a gas station. The roads are narrow, but the scenery along the way is stunning. A few log cabins are grandfathered into Adirondack Park – before the State of New York decided that development was not such a good idea. Beyond that – you are surrounded by beautiful mountain ranges, creeks, reservoirs, streams and lakes that are delightfully untouched by mankind. Except for acid rain…and other pollution that has no boundaries. Such details.

Our destination is Piseco Lake. My family had been camping in a small state run campground called Little Sand Point for nearly 50 years – and I am super excited to be making this voyage with Paddy. True to Adirondack form – Piseco Lake and it’s 3 campgrounds are nearly the same as it was 50 years ago. Two very notable changes this time. 1. Showers. The state of NY has constructed a building with flush toilets and 9 shower stalls. Wowie zow. This is livin’ large for the Adirondacks. The water stays on for about 30 seconds. After that you press a magic button…you’ll even get 30 more seconds of spray. Wash quickly, unless you want to spend your time pressing the darned button every 30 seconds. 2. Cell phones work. Never before could you use a cell phone in this section of the Adirondacks. Guessing that when the Park Ranger started using online reservations, he needed to be – online. Thus, not only does the cell phone work – but we *could* get internet too. I think we can do without internet for a few days.

Paddy navigated the big monster RV into a mainly TENT only campground – amidst many stares from the TENT campers. Yes – it’s a big monster RV and doesn’t belong here – but we’re parking her at campsite 23A – right on the water, and staying anyway. So deal with it – hard core tenters! We pull up to the water spigot to put some aqua into the RV tank. There is no hose connection at the campground spigot. Paddy does his best to jam the hose up the spigot, while I jam the other end into the RV – and I’m pretty sure those campers who were staring at us had plenty to talk about around the campfire. We looked like camping rookies with water spraying everywhere….and small droplets actually making it into the RV tank. After 30 minutes of getting soaked, we decided the gallon of water we actually got into the tank was good enuf.

The beauty of an RV – is that you can just PULL IN – and be done with setting up. By now, it was dark, and no need for us to get out of the RV. There are probably bugs out there. And don’t forget the bears. I made sure to lock the RV doors – just in case the bears knew how to work the door latch.

Sailing? What's that?

2010-06-15T19:10:00.004-04:00

It's been a month since we last sailed. Many days passed with lighter than normal winds, higher than normal temperatures, and a swelter factor that was beginning to feel like mid-August. Add an infusion of triathlon training and working for a living...and we were beginning to think that sailing was a thing of the past.

But not so. Finally a breeze. Finally a break in work projects. And Cat Maudy got a rare opportunity to leave the "A" dock. The sail was perfect, and we topped out at 11 knots of speed over ground. Cat Maudy ate a few monohulls for lunch (just say'n ;-).... and we even managed to remember details such as pulling up the fenders, hoisting the main, tacking, and avoiding the big ships in the shipping channel.

Baltimore...At Last

2010-05-13T12:58:00.001-04:00

Bundled in cold weather gear, we left our mooring in Annapolis in hopes of a slow sail into B'more. But alas, NO wind at all. Not even a smidge. It's all good. We motored the last 30 miles of Our Big Adventure - back into familiar territory. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge, the Magothy River, Bodkins Point, hundreds of crabpots....and of course up the debris-filled Patapsco River. Some container ship is missing half of it's lumber from the Amazon forest. It can be found floating in the Patapsco.

Our Big Adventure, which began last fall (October for Paddy, and November for me) has been an amazing gift. We've learned to appreciate time. I no longer wear a watch - and generally have no idea what day or time it is. I do wear a compass watch. It tells me wind direction. Go ahead, ask me the time - and I'll give you North...South....East or West - or some variant inbetween.

In summary:
8 month voyage
6 weeks to return from Biscayne Bay to the Baltimore Harbor
Caught 1 fish
Return trip: 700 offshore miles, 300 inside passage miles, 200 Chesapeake Bay miles
Overall trip: 2500 miles on water, 100 miles in a car
Top sail speed: 14 knots on Chesapeake Bay
Top average day hop speed: 9.2 knots from Ft. Lauderdale to Lake Worth
4 John Shuttleworth boats in the same mooring field
Biscayne Bay sailing rocks!
Favorite ports: Charleston SC, St. Augustine FL, Ft. Lauderdale FL, Coconut Grove FL, Norfolk VA
Cat Maudy steering/rudders are finally "fixed" after 4 years of going in circles!
We left the grid - and lived on 3 solar panels and a wind generator

Transforming our lives, into slow motion, and eliminating the need for instant gratification (pizza delivery, a midnite dash to the grocery store for chocolate to name a few), has given us a rare opportunity to take stock of the importance of each other, each moment, family, friends and those whose paths we cross for a day. It has been an incredible voyage....and I really just need to get my endorphins now.

Stay tuned... the next chapter is just beginning!

At Last

...

The big blow no show

2010-05-12T19:12:00.005-04:00

Rest days. Yeah right. You think you need a day of rest from a big sailing adventure, cuz you're a tad weary, and wake up the next day to discover that the winds are favorable. It would be a sin to waste favorable winds...on rest. Time to prep the boat -- for sailing.

We departed from Solomons at a leisurely 8AM, with freshening winds blowing from the west. I admit, I'm in some sort of hurry to restore my endorphin-depleted lifestyle. When Paddy looked at the forecast and suggested that we might want to reef the main due to projected winds of 25 knots....I said no. Hard to imagine. This never happens. Usually, Captain Wuuus (moi) wants to sail only with the SS Handkerchief. Not today. We will get every bloody speck of wind that Cat Maudy can capture.

We motored at most a mile out of the Patuxent River - when the west winds took over. I hoisted the FULL mast sail, and we unfurled the FULL jib. No hankie sails today. With these winds -- it was setting up to be a fast sail to either Annapolis, or possibly Baltimore if we could snag 10+ knot average. Thunderstorms are projected for the afternoon - so we needed to be "in some port" by 3PM. It is so completely foreign that I think about "how fast we need to sail" -- I can only attribute it to my severe lack of endorphins. Visions sprout in my head about riding my speed bike cross country...or running my next road race....or just getting the jiggle out of my wiggle would be a good start after 1000+ northbound miles on a sailboat. I digress.

The winds were stronger than I expected, and Cat Maudy loved every bit of it. She raced around Drum Point at the mouth of the Patuxent, and like a stealth machine cruised past all of the other sailboats. Probably because they were all reefed down. Probably because they weren't so desperate for endorphins.

No sooner had I started to calculate our arrival time into Annapolis at a 9+ knot rate - the winds QUIT. Just like that. One minute - they are blowing 25 knots...and the next minute, it's all over. Completely over. It ended. No more winds AT ALL.

We complete our 40 mile mostly motor hop to Annapolis, and pony up to one of the mooring balls in the Annapolis Harbor. 30 minutes later, Cat Maudy self cleans - as we are greeted with 2 hours of rain and thunderstorms. Tomorrow winds will be light. It could be a rest day. Then again, maybe not.

Touchdown into Maryland

2010-05-11T05:13:00.005-04:00

After 700 miles of offshore sailing during our "return to the north", it's hard to imagine that our most robust sail of the journey (to date) occurs on home territory. The Chesapeake Bay.

We departed downtown Norfolk at 6:15AM, and spent the next two hours motoring to the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. We had a few obstacles along the way. US Warships. The really big ones. The aircraft carriers. We patiently waited for these huge ships to back out of their ports, and gain speed heading out the channel. You need to stay 500+ yards away, or else they point guns at you. Sipping coffee, we are in no hurry to become target practice.

As we entered into the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay - the seas are flat, and the winds moderate. With the jib and main sail up - Cat Maudy is ready to capture every scrap of wind - should it beef up. And it did.

It is generally a mistake to cut across the Horseshoe shoal (north of Willoughby Bay) to save time going north on the Bay. Usually this shallow shoal is laden with crabpots - but mysteriously, there were NONE. I scanned the water line repeatedly with my binoculars searching for one of the little land-mines that would ultimately connect with our prop and rudder....but NONE existed. This is most unusual, and I figured stealth crab pots were lurking for us "up ahead". Remained on high alert for crabpots while cruising the southern bay shallow waters - just in case.

It is not particularly warm here. Temperatures are in the lower 50's....and with the winds and steady rains - it feels like 30. Bundled up with long undies, 3-4 layers of clothing plus foul weather gear, 2 hats, goggles and mittens - you would think we were cruising in Alaska. Where did the warm weather go?

It didn't take long for winds from the east to give us a chance to sail. Without motor. Our sail speeds ranged from 7.5-9 knots, and Captain Paddy's mood is changing for the better. The sea state is getting very lumpy. The waves in the Chesapeake hit you about 1 per second. There is no "wait" between waves - and it didn't take long for Soxy to get cranky. She likes a stable ride, it it is getting hard to keep any footing.

Cat Maudy is one of probably 2 dozen sailboats that have decided to depart Norfolk in the AM. We catch up and pass most of them (ok...just sayin' ;-), but by the time we reach the Potomac, the winds have gone into kick-ass mode - and the majority of the other sailboats bail out for the day. Waves are up to 4 feet, and fortunately the winds have shifted more to the southeast. This helps the stability factor - and we are no longer being bounced around as much. Two other sailboats and Cat Maudy - make up the remaining regatta, headed toward Solomons, MD. We are now making steady 9 - 11 knots of speed. Add some 25 knot gusts - and Cat Maudy screeches along at 14 knots.

Without having Popeye The Sailor Man on board, trimming the sails, and prepping to gibe the boat for a final tack into Solomons - takes every ounce of strength I can muster. And that's not much...or nearly enough. Somehow we managed to gibe without breaking anything. Our final tack brings us to more beamy seas, and the winds are howling. Cat Maudy shoots like a bat outta hell. I sure hope there are no crab pots in the vicinity, because there is no time for navigating around these. We race for shore, and tuck up into the mouth of the Patuxent River, escaping the feisty Bay seas.

The winds were so stong - that we blew out a batten on the main sail. We didn't notice this, until it was time to bring the main sail down. The loose batten, that no longer rests in its track - is now flopping everywhere....and no matter what I do, it keeps connecting with the lazy jack lines. All of this techno-sail-mumbo-jumbo just means that I can only bring down the main halfway - until it gets tangled up because the the broken part. And, it's windy as all get-go. Paddy is busy holding the boat in place, and gives me one of those "you gotta figure it out yourself" looks. Each time that the broken part gets tangled in the lines...I have to RE-hoist the main sail about 6 feet...to untangle. Then try to lower it again without making contact with the zillion lines that it wants to connect with. This is fun. (NOT). I've now re-hoisted the main 3 times...and re lowered - with no success. My happy mood is long gone. Time for plan B. Let's just say that Cat Maudy and I exchanged some very SALTY words. I can't repeat them here, but it seemed to work. The main sail finally lowered in position a top the boom.

12 hours....100 miles from Norfolk to Solomons
Top sailing speed = 14 knots
Temperature = brrrrrrr

Takin in time at Norfolk's waterside

2010-05-10T15:54:00.004-04:00

The Waterside Marina is located in the heart of "tourist trap" downtown Norfolk. We love being tourists - and this is becoming one of our favorite layover stops. There is no shortage of restaurants, easy access to grocery and the weekends are filled with free concerts, wine tasting festivals and art vendors.

It doesn't seem to matter that the winds are blowing 30 knots from the north east, and we can't make any headway traveling north. We're not going anywhere. At the moment.

So we enjoy some cruising downtime. This includes:

- jogging and more jogging. catching up on a severe lack of endorphins

- eating fabulous salads at Jillians Restaurant - a whopping 20 footsteps from our dockage

- sharing winter boating stories with fellow cruisers at the marina

- working....yep...we still need to make a living!

- turning on the propane heater. The warm air from southern Florida is just a memory

- provisioning...for what may be a 3-day sail up the Chesapeake Bay

Clearance under Fixed 65' Bridges on the ICW: Our experiences during 1st week of May 2010

2010-05-09T18:41:00.015-04:00

for tall masted sailboats

Every time we approach one of these 65' fixed bridges, with our 63.5' air draft, it appears we won't clear...until inches before potential contact with the bridge. If only someone would take notes - so that we could have some feel as to whether the measuring stick is accurate, or the water levels are running high vs low....and general observations. Hey? Maybe that "someone" should be me? Below are my notes for all 13 fixed bridges between the mouth of the Cape Fear River (NC)....and Norfolk, VA.

Other tall masted sailboat may not have the same experiences we did -- due to tidal fluctuations, the lunar cycle, and winds...so be sure to navigate carefully and wisely based on your own observations. Here is what we found:

Note: Our VHF antenna is 2' above our mast height of 63' 7" This would make clearance (without contact with VHF antenna) to be 65' 7".

Carolina Beach Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 295.7
does bridge have measuring stick? Yes
measuring stick reads: 68'
tidal timing: 2 hours after high tide (low high tide)
our experience: NO contact with our VHF antenna
winds: 15 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: good
notes: we had plenty of clearance, even with weekend boaters creating wake

The following bridges are affected by ocean tides:

North Topsail Beach Route 210 Bridge (NC)
mile marker 252.4
does bridge have measuring stick? Yes
measuring stick reads: 67'
tidal timing: 2 hours after high tide (low high tide)
our experience: Ticked top of VHF antenna
winds: 15 knots southwest
accuracy of measuring stick: probably high...estimate closer to 65.5
notes: we had plenty of clearance

Emerald Isle Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 225.7
does bridge have measuring stick? Yes
measuring stick reads: 65.5'
tidal timing: 1 hour before low tide (low low tide)
our experience: Ticked top of VHF antenna
winds: 10 knots southwest
accuracy of measuring stick: good
notes: we had plenty of clearance

Atlantic Beach Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 206.7
does bridge have measuring stick? Yes
measuring stick reads: 66'
tidal timing: 1 hour after low tide (low low tide)
our experience: NO contact with our VHF antenna
winds: 15 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: good
notes: we had plenty of clearance

US Route 70 Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 203.9
does bridge have measuring stick? Yes
measuring stick reads: 66'
tidal timing: 1.5 hours after low tide (low low tide)
our experience: NO contact with our VHF antenna
winds: 15 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: good
notes: we had plenty of clearance

Core Creek Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 195.9
does bridge have measuring stick? Yes
measuring stick reads: 67'
tidal timing: 3 hours after low tide (low low tide)
our experience: NO contact with our VHF antenna
winds: 15 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: good
notes: we had plenty of clearance

The following bridges are affected by wind tides:

Hobucken Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 157.2
does bridge have measuring stick? No
measuring stick reads: I got a Stanley electronic measurement from the bow of 60' 11'. Add this to our bow height of 3' 10" off the water - and this bridge measures 64' 9" .
tidal timing: --
our experience: Ticked our VHF antenna
winds: 10 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: --
notes: we had plenty of clearance

Wilkerson Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 125.8
does bridge have measuring stick? YES
measuring stick reads: 65'
tidal timing: --
our experience: Ticked our VHF antenna
winds: 10 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: good
notes: we had plenty of clearance

Fairfield Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 114
does bridge have measuring stick? NO
measuring stick reads: --
tidal timing: --
our experience: lightly ticked our VHF antenna
winds: 10 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: -no measure, but best guss is 65' 5"
notes: we had plenty of clearance

Coinjock Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 50.1
does bridge have measuring stick? YES
measuring stick reads: 64.5 from southbound entrance, no mark on NB entrance
tidal timing: --
our experience: ticked & slightly dragged our VHF antenna
winds: 10 knots southeast
accuracy of measuring stick: -fair
notes: much tighter clearance than we expected

Route 726 Highway Bridge (NC)
mile marker 28.6
does bridge have measuring stick? YES
measuring stick reads: 64.5
tidal timing: --
our experience: ticked and dragged at 90 degrees our VHF antenna
winds: 20 knots northeast
accuracy of measuring stick: -probably reads higher than actual clearance
notes: we barely cleared this bridge

Great Bridge Highway Bridge (VA)
mile marker 12.6
does bridge have measuring stick? NO
measuring stick reads: --
tidal timing: --
our experience: lightly ticked our VHF antenna
winds: 20 knots northeast
accuracy of measuring stick: -no measure, but best guss is 65' 5"
notes: we had plenty of clearance

The following bridges are affected by ocean tides:

Route 64 Highway Bridge (VA)
mile marker 7.1
does bridge have measuring stick? NO (bridge appears to be a bascule bridge, but it does not open!)
measuring stick reads: --
tidal timing: 2 hours before low tide
our experience: no contact with our VHF antenna
winds: 20 knots northeast
accuracy of measuring stick: -no measure, but best guss is 66'
notes: we had plenty of clearance

Arrival in Norfolk marks the end of the Inside Passage

2010-05-07T07:23:00.010-04:00

Coinjock NC to Norfolk VA

Departing CoinJock at 7AM should give us plenty of time to arrive into Norfolk by late afternoon. This final section of the Inside Passage is marked with 3 fixed 65' bridges, numerous drawbridges, and a lock.

We exited from the stump laden land cut, and entered our widest body of water for the day - Cutterick Sound. Winds are from the north east at 20+ knots. Which means that this shallow Sound has livened up to a bit of a chop. It also means we can unfurl the jib and gain some time.

There is lots of spray going over Cat Maudy's bow, and the ride is a bumpy. Soxy retreats to the salon. We motor sailed at 8.5 knots, and continued to motor sail up the North Landing River. The North Landing River eventually narrows into another land cut - and we are back to motors only. Here we meet our first 65' Cruisers Challenge Bridge...and despite my most optimistic efforts to find signs of low water...this turned out to be our toughest bridge clearance of the trip. The bridge measurement marker reads 64.5'....and this clearly was wrong. I would guess less than 64 feet. We cleared, and dragged our VHF flexible antenna at the top of the mast at a 90 degree angle the entire distance of the bridge. The strong winds from the northeast are pushing water up into the land cuts. We have one more fixed bridge to clear while in the "wind tide" region of the Inner Passage. I'm trying not to think about this bridge being any lower than the one we just cleared.

There is no measuring aid on the last fixed bridge affected by wind tides. We carefully watch the clearance of the sailboat directly in front of us - to give us a guage. On the prior bridge, like us, they barely cleared. On this bridge - it looks like they had more clearance. We creep up slowly....and good fortune is with us. Barely a tick with the VHF antenna - and we easily clear this final hurdle. Final hurdle before the lock that is. We still have 1 remaining fixed bridge when we exit the lock.

As we get closer to Norfolk, we are met with a series of timed opening drawbridges. Cat Maudy is in a brigade of 5 motor yachts and 2 sailboats. Here is how it works. The motor yachts race to be first in line for the first bridge opening. No problem. Once the bridge opens....you have to make the next bridge either on the hour or half hour. Sometimes this is too speedy for sailboats. So the motor yachts race ahead. It looks like the bridge will open for the motor yachts, and the sailboats will need to wait for the next opening.

But wait. The bridge tender sees that it has 5 motor yachts ready to go thru their bridge - and also sees that if he waits 4-5 more minutes, the slow-poke sailboats will catch up. (this only happens in Virginia on the Inside Passage....in Southern Florida the bridge tenders never wait for anyone) He's not into doing any more work than required. It's Friday after all. And someone is thinking "miller time". So, he doesn't open the bridge until everyone in the brigade catches up. As you can imagine, the VHF Channel 13 (bridge tender channel) is a buzz with motor yachts who don't want to wait for their slowpoke sailboat friends. Don't mess with the bridge tender. He's in charge. And he waits for the sailboats. What a lovely man!

After 3 times of realizing that there is no need to rush to the next bridge - cuz the Bridge Tender Dudes are part of a network (and it's Friday) - the speedy motor yachts finally "get it". For the remaining opening bridges, they realize there is no need to rush. They will just have to wait for the slowest member of the pack anyway (the sailboats). We now travel in one long caravan - sailboats and motor yachts together - all at the same speeds. I sense Cat Maudy has a sly grin on her face, watching the motor yachts maintain her pace.

With such a large caravan of boaters all together, and Cat Maudy at the back of the pack - the "Great Lock" for a moment looks like there won't be enough room for us. A small fishing boat ahead of us moves to the final "large boat" spot - which would eliminate us from being able to enter the lock. My New York "Yankee" instincts take over. I race to the bow and yell - "go to the other side - we don't have any room" at the fisherman. Normally, fishermen are drunk and would give me the middle finger - at such a request. But, we are in southern Virginia - and people still refer to you as "ma-am". Much to my surprise - the fisherman acknowledged, smiled at me, and went to the other side of the lock giving us plenty of room to join the brigade. Mind you, this would never happen in Maryland....or Florida....or most anywhere else. The poor fisherman then struggled to re-adjust his fenders, and lines for the other side of the boat -- barely missing a collision with another boater. He was single handed. My yankee bad.

The final fixed bridge was a cakewalk. Back in tidal currents now, it appears we are a low tide. Wonderful. We arrive at the Waterside Marina in downtown Norfolk - where the young dockhands want us to navigate Cat Maudy into an impossible position. Strangely, Paddy hands over the VHF to me - and wants me to work it out. I think this means, to turn my "yankee" back on. I tell them "NO way" can we navigate into a dock slip - and repeat that our beam is 28'. The lovely young dockhand tries to suggest another slip. I tell him "NO" again - and tell him where we can land Cat Maudy. He gives in - and we tie up onto the facedock. I tip the dockhands real good. Being a yankee is so conflicting.

We are in Norfolk. Yippie-I-eh!

The fish are where?

2010-05-06T05:31:00.005-04:00

Belhaven NC (approx) to CoinJock NC

It is slated to be a sweltering 90 degree day, plenty of sun, light winds and muggy. We moved into position at 6:30AM under our new "bimini shades", glad to know that we will no longer be scorched by the sun.

The line of cruisers had started. We are all headed in the same direction. North. The start of the day will be a 15 mile land cut between the Pungo and Alligator River. When you look at the map - it seems that Cat Maudy has sprung wheels and is traveling on land. I can assure you this is not the case. We are still floating. It is just along a narrow land cut lined on either side with exposed tree stumps. Avoid the tree stumps at all costs. More ideas for our evolving Cruisers Challenge board game!

We creep up to the short Wilkerson Bridge. Why this bridge was built at 64' instead of the standard 65' feet is anybody's guess. In any event, I have my Stanley electronic measuring stick poised and ready. The water levels appear low. How do I know this? I stare at the grasses along the banks of the channel...and look for the transition from green grass...to yellow...to exposed mud. If I see plenty of exposed mud - then the water levels are low. If I see only green grass, then the water levels are high. You are probably wishing you had this kind of excitement in your day.

Surprise of all surprises. The Wilkerson Bridge now has a "measuring stick" (this was missing during our prior trip on the Inside Passage). The measuring stick next to the Wilkerson Bridge reveals 65 feet of clearance. Oh happy days! We creep up to her anyway - and clear with plenty of room. I put Stanley back into my pocket - glad to know he was not needed today.

We have a light breeze - just enough to keep the bugs at bay. The land cut between the Pungo and Alligator Rivers is a breeding ground for bugs. The water is a chocolate brown, which we are told is due to the soil. Ok, I'll buy that. The days of clear turquoise blue water found in South Florida are long gone. But there is plenty of life under the surface of the chocolate waters. We discovered this in our toilet bowl. Bear with me here. Boat toilets (heads) are designed to BRING IN outside water which is used to FILL the bowl. So, as I walked into the 'head' - and peeked into the bowl - little minnows were swimming. It's a bit un-nerving seeing little fish swimming in your toilet bowl.

We passed through our next 65' fixed bridge with plenty of clearance - and are feeling mighty confident now about the water levels. Once on the Alligator River, we deviate slightly from our course to take a few shortcuts. One of our monohull traveling companions hails us to ask about the water depths. We report that the actual depths are higher than what is noted on the chart. And we don't think much about this.

There are light winds, enough to gain a few tenth's of a knot by unfurling the jib - but not a lot of speed. We travel along the Albermarle Sound - a large shallow body of water that takes us to the North River.

OK. Crab fishermen listen up. Would you like to save some money? I have a thought. Can you make the buoys a COLOR that we can see? Black, dark blue and dark green....NOT WORKING. We can't see 'em. Orange, Red, Yellow....these are GOOD...we can see these. How does this save you money? If we can see them, we have a better chance of avoiding them. If we can't see them....they get wrapped on our rudders and props....and we have to CUT the buoy from the crab pot in order to be set free. If you can't find your buoy...then you can't find your crabpot. All it takes is a BRIGHT COLORED BUOY - and you probably won't lose as many crabpots as a result. Just a thought from a blonde boater.

The fixed bridge in CoinJock NC - turned out to be the shortest we've encountered. It is 64.5 feet - but we clear it anyway. The higher water depths we noticed on the Alligator River...were a result of wind tides. Yes, the wind is light - but it has been blowing from the south for nearly a week. Apparently in some sections of the Inner Passage - it pushes the water levels higher....and in others - it is lower. Good luck trying to figure all of this out.

We arrived at the CoinJock Marina, along with our brigade of fellow cruisers at 4:30PM. The marina is one very long face dock on the ICW - and the marina folks try to fit you all in - in one big lineup. We race off the boat - and head straight to the air conditioned restaurant for a cool one. Two diet cokes and and hour of A/C - and we are fully recharged. 45 miles to go to Norfolk.

Little discoveries along the Inside Passage

2010-05-05T19:02:00.005-04:00

Swansboro to Belhaven NC (approx)

Up at 5:30AM we had the engines crackin' at 6 - and started moving Cat Maudy northward. Our first fixed 65' bridge was lined up for low tide. Yeah right. I'm not sure what's up with the tide tables, but we keep finding that low tide is really closer to high tide. Irregardless, it appeared as if the water levels between Cape Fear...and Swansboro were lower than we expected (probably due to some lunar cycle) - so even when the tides are not at their lowest -- we were seeing plenty of low water. If you don't understand anything I just said - then you "get it". Forget trying to understand the tide charts and water levels. They is what they is.

The first hour of motoring we skirted with patches of dense fog. So dense, that a trawler who was motoring along, doing the "la la la", directly in front of us....suddenly veered off to port and within a few seconds ran aground. Lesson learned: Stick with your GPS when you can't see a thing. We slowed to 5 knots...and blindly worked our way thru the next few miles.

The bridge heights are looking very favorable to us. We easily glided under the first 2 fixed bridges with height markers on the bridges displaying well over 65' of clearance. The third fixed bridge - in Moorhead City - registered at 67' and for the first time EVER - we didn't even bother to slow down. Cat Maudy is getting a bit confident eh?

As the fog gave way to intense sunlight, it looked as if we would be overdosing on Vitamin D - until we made a bit of a discovery. The 2 helm stations on Cat Maudy are "exposed" to the elements. If it's raining....you get wet. If it's sunny - you get a tan. If it's windy - you hang onto your eyeballs...that type of thing.

Here we are, four years into owning Cat Maudy - when we discovered we had "bimini shades" for the open cockpit. Sure enough - a nifty zipper connects the hardtop bimini - with two huge cloth extensions - which cover each helm station. So that's what these little scraps of cloth are for? Who knew? I can assure you, the Captains are living large now. Under the newly discovered "bimini shades".

Speaking of the motor yacht named Living Large -- they were NOT having a good day. The ICW channel northbound from Moorhead City - some 20 miles inland is surprisingly shallow. You can be right in the middle of the channel, and let your mind wander about what's for dinner....when all of a sudden, without notice - you are in 2 feet of water. Just like that. You quickly check to starboard and port and wonder - 'woa - did I just doze off at the wheel?' - but no, you are smack dab in the center of the channel. As we passed Living Large, and his companion TowBoat US - it looked strangely quiet in their wheelhouse. In their case, they had veered well outside of the channel. Guessing the Admiral was having a little "chat" with her Captain.

This must be prime "crabbing" season - as it didn't take long to discover that crabpots are everywhere. This includes not only the shallow waters lining each side of the ICW channel, but in the channel itself. I guess there are no "rules" when it comes to dropping crabpots in the water. Navigation is challenging enough with the shallow depth. Paddy calls this "Cruisers Challenge". We spend the next hour devising a monopoly-like board game designed for Cruisers. "Go to Jail" is more like "Run aground"...and winning a fortune is more like "Sail in flat seas at 11 knots" - that type of thing. Or, an unlucky move on the board game would be "hit a crabpot....slow to 2 knots....and waste an hour trying the unleash the beast from your rudder". You get the idea. Maybe we should return to paying more attention at the helm.

Along with a brigade of other sailors and cruisers, we motored up the Neuse River...to the Pamlico River...to the Pungo River - and finally to an anchorage that wasn't cluttered with crabpots at 7:30PM. A long 13 hour day, covering 88 miles of the Inside Passage. We are two miles from the dreaded "Wilkerson Bridge" - all 64 short feet of her. Will save this excitement for tomorrow.

Charm on the ICW

2010-05-04T19:57:00.009-04:00

Wrightsville Beach to Swansboro, NC

There are two natural body of water wonders to choose from, when navigating by boat up and down the eastern seaboard. One, on the outside - from the ocean. And the other - on the inside - the Intra Coastal Waterway (ICW). The ICW isn't always majestic, or even natural for that matter. For example, southern Florida's ICW is sadly overdeveloped, and any natural beauty requires you to have a bounty of cash. But along the coastline of North Carolina, the ICW offers a mixture of tranquility, nature at it's finest, and some of the most unique "hurricane housing" architecture you'll find anywhere.

For Cat Maudy, with her 'tall girl' mast - navigating along the ICW becomes strategic. We must "time" getting under the fixed bridges at lower tides, and many of the drawbridges only open on the hour. Twice, we missed "the hour" by less than 5 minutes. This caused us to motor in circles - and passing 55 minutes of time waiting for the next drawbridge to open. It's not easy to "time" the drawbridges. Sometimes, we travel at 9 knots when the current is in our favor. Usually, as we cross an inlet...the current works against us, and our speeds drop to 5.5 knots. It doesn't matter if the tide is ebbing or flooding. You never really know how long it will take to get to any destination. Part of the charm on the ICW.

A 5 mile stretch of the ICW between Wrightsville Beach and Swansboro, North Carolina - is a military base. Called Camp LeJeune. Nobody plays with Barbie dolls here....this is serious GI Joe war games "get out of my way" stuff. Signs along the ICW indicate that boaters must "STOP" cruising if the red lights are flashing. I triple checked. They were NOT flashing red. So we continued.

Hard to imagine what "goes on" here when the red lights ARE flashing - but when they are NOT it is quite unnerving. Gun artillery goes off incessantly, and Top Gun jets swoop toward Cat Maudy at warp speed. The sounds are terrifying, and this continues for 5 miles. I manage to get a few photos of the swooping fighter jets, before deciding that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe they don't want their picture taken? Their guns sure are awful big.

We end the day - at anchor, in Swansboro. Swansboro is a quiet ICW town, just north of Sneeds Ferry - and shrimp boats line the shoreline for the evening.

Wrightsville Beach...for a day, or 2

2010-05-03T07:18:00.003-04:00

It isn't yet "prime time" at Wrightsville Beach - but you would never know it by the number of beachgoers and boaters. Anyone who owned a boat....or related to someone who owned a boat...or just grabbed mom -n- dad's boat for the day - were out lookin' for "action" on the ICW.

Sunday. A weekend on the ICW. We decided to stay put, and take in the local flavors. This included multiple trips to Roberts Grocery Store - a classic old-fashioned "country" grocery store - located right along the main drag of Wrightsville Beach. In business since 1919 - the family who runs Roberts - take you back in time. There are no bright lights here, no pristine floors or fancy coolers. Just enough options to choose from, and an inhouse butcher shop - in case you need fresh meat. We tried their "Famous Chicken Salad"...and it was so delicious and unique - we stocked up for our ICW trip to Norfolk. One or two more visits to Roberts - and they would surely know me by name.

A block from Roberts Grocery - is a surf shop called Wings. Paddy's fashion dreams come true inside Wings. Orange plaid shorts, bright orange swim trunks, and more orange plaid with every other imaginable color mixed in.... You might want to wear your shades from here out - around Captain Paddy..

Wrightsville Beach offers a perfect opportunity for exercise. Roads with extra wide lanes plus shoulders, makes for ideal biking, running or walking. Of course, I OD'd on endorphins for 2 days. It was magnificent!

Changed plans...

2010-05-01T11:06:00.008-04:00

We departed Bald Head Island at 7AM hoping to get beyond the Cape Fear shoals before the seas grow. About a mile and a half offshore....heading straight into the swells...the 'queazies' took over. Cat Maudy pitched into the swells. Over and over. This would go on for 2+ hours. I tried staring at the horizon...but the horizon kept moving. To keep going...I would be seasick.

We turned around, and headed back in to the Cape Fear River. Wrong seas for the wrong gal.

Paddy climbs the mast to bring down the equipment at the very top. This includes the tri-color light, and wind equipment. These items add extra height to our already "too tall" mast for the ICW fixed bridges. We will have to go inside at this point - and navigate under the 65' fixed bridges along the ICW. Since our height is 63.5' - we don't want to risk close calls with the wind and lights on the top .

We depart Bald Head Island at 12:30PM - for a 25 mile trip to Wrightsville. Low tide is 4:30...and we would be at the one and only fixed 65' bridge around 3PM. Luck is on our side - and the bridge shows a clearance of 68'. We easily pass under this bridge - and motor on thru the busy ICW. Lots of pleasure boat traffic...and shallow depths keep all the boaters hugging the middle of the channel. Arrive at the Seapath Marina just after 4PM - and spend a delightful evening with fellow cruisers John Lennon and his wife Vicky - the artist. They are enroute traveling the Great Loop - in their motor catamaran. Yup....we hung out with John Lennon. Cruiser John Lennon that is.

Winyah Bay to Cape Fear River

2010-04-30T11:26:00.003-04:00

All set for a 75 mile day hop to the mouth of the Cape Fear River - we hoped for the best - without having our trusted sources of weather info guiding us. We assumed, the weather forecast is the "same" as yesterday. 10-15 mph winds from the southwest - with more of the gusty stuff. The only problem with ending our day hop at the Cape Fear River...is returning back to the ocean for day 3.

The Cape Fear River has shoals that extend 15 miles offshore. There is no shortcut. If you go into the Cape Fear River, then to exit, you have to get banged up by southwest seas for 3 hours....or take the ICW on the inside. Better yet, we could do an overnight and bypass the Cape Fear River....but my exhausted bod says "no".

It is a long stretch between Winyah Bay and Cape Fear. We spent most of the time 12-15 miles offshore. Every now and then, a boat would appear on our horizon - and we would stare it down until it was out of sight. Any visual distraction to take my mind off the fact that we are all alone out here. Since we could no longer see the shoreline, I adjusted the GPS to show the coast line despite the fact we are nowhere near it. Little comfort things to get thru the day.

The winds were negligible thru 2PM - which means we had the engines burnin' fuel. By 3PM we unfurled the jib sail - and were motor-sailing at 8+ knots. As we got close to the mouth of the Cape Fear River - it was windy as all get-go, and the combination of shallow waters and seas bouncing back from the coastline - made for a bumpy ride.

Less than a mile inside the mouth of the Cape Fear River - we discovered a tiny marina / golf complex tucked behind a narrow channel to our starboard side. It was 5PM, and most marinas are closing - but we got lucky. They had a slip for us for the night. Paddy motored into the Bald Head Island Marina - and we sidled up to the face dock for the night for $20 - an unheard of rate. Then, we received a $20 coupon for dinner. Do the math. Dockage plus dinner for about $20. Nice. If you have to enter the Cape Fear River - Bald Head Island is a great place to stop. Plus, there are no cars here.

Plans in motion - to Winyah Bay

2010-04-29T10:28:00.002-04:00

Southwest winds 10-15 knots with gusts to 20 in the afternoon. That was the forecast. The weather folks weren't kidding about those gusts.

We departed the Charleston Maritime Center at 7:30AM. Charleston is one of my favorite ports, and I was having mixed feelings about leaving. But, we had to take advantage of each and every weather opportunity - and it appeared we would have 4 days of good sailing winds. 4 days translates into 4 of our last remaining ocean hops. We could have also done an overnight and skipped the 4 hops....but they are just too darned tiring.

Day 1 - Charleston to Georgetown (Winyah Bay)
Day 2 - Winyah Bay to Cape Fear River
Day 3 - Cape Fear River to Wrightsville (Masonboro Inlet)
and Day 4 - Wrightsville to Beaufort.

That was the plan. And as we have well discovered on this sailing voyage - all plans are subject to change at any given moment. This would be no different.

The coastline between Charleston and Georgetown is laden with long reaching shoals that extend 6-8 miles from the coastline. The days of hugging the coast line (such as in Florida are over - and we have to stay further offshore to bypass the shallow spots. The water color is noticeably different as well. You can see the shoal areas by the color of the water. The water becomes a murky brown, as if completed churned up by the sand.

We motor sailed with the main only for the first 7 hours. It wasn't until we turned toward Winyah Bay - that we started to get a breeze. The winds went from 6 to over 20. Just like that. Steady 20+ knots of winds pushed us up the long channel into Winyah Bay. The channel is flanked by a combination of submerged and visible jetty's. The tidal current was working against us - so with the surf pushing us in and the current pushing us out - it was a bit of a rough ride toward land.

Heading toward a protected anchorage, our charts were showing a channel of 23 feet of water. It turned out to be closer to 5 feet. Not even close to 23 feet. Assuming that massive shoaling has taken place. Noticing that all of the fishermen in boats were hugging the shoreline - we aimed for shore. Sure enough, the depth returned and we set down anchor for the night.

By midnight, the winds settled down. I tried checking my standard set of online weather sources - only to discover that we were nowhere within Internet range. This gave me time to reflect upon what life was like before we became glued to the 'net. Kind of hard to imagine. We would make our next offshore hop tomorrow without our brains exploding on weather details. I'm getting nervous.

Cancelled Blessin'

2010-04-25T08:38:00.002-04:00

While strong thunderstorms and near gale force winds may have put an ending to Charleston's Blessing of the Shrimp Fleet -- it left room for Plan "B" -- a relaxed and shrimp laden afternoon with our Charleston friends Cindy and Bruce. A walk along the pier under the Ravenel Bridge made it clear why the Blessin' was cancelled. Winds gusted to 35 knots, making the Cooper River void of boat traffic. With the exception of one small sailboat. He apparently had not tuned in to the weather channel.

Cindy and Bruce "define" southern hospitality - and it didn't take long for Paddy and I to settle into a relaxed southern groove. Despite being 600 offshore miles away from Baltimore, thanks to Cindy and Bruce -- Charleston felt like home.

Can't get enuf of the big aquarium....

2010-04-24T20:35:00.016-04:00

Still groggy from lack of sleep....I dragged my bod off of the Mega Dock...and over to the nearest tennis court for an hour of singles, followed by another hour of doubles. Chasing a little ball around the court, and trying to focus on hitting it with the racket strings was a bit of a challenge - but I had the best excuse going for any mis-hits. "I just got off my boat OK?" Despite lacking the precision to hit the ball squarely - the abundance of endorphins and camaraderie made up for it all! Thankfully my partner Cindy, and opponents were gracious enough not to mind. Love this southern hospitality!

By 11:30AM, slack tide, Paddy and I moved Cat Maudy from one side of the peninsula (on the Ashley River)....to the other side (on the Cooper River) - to dock for a week at the Charleston Maritime Center. The rates were cheap (relatively), and from our new location - we were within easy walking distance of grocery stores, pizza delivery, and the Charleston Aquarium.

It wasn't as if we were lacking for marine life. We live and breath marine life. So, why not spend an afternoon getting close and personal with otters, bald eagles, sea horses, eels, albino alligator, penguins, sharks...monsta' turtles...and hundreds of species of fish?

The most popular exhibits -- based on the number of 5 year olds in attendance - are the river otters and the huge loggerhead turtles. I admit, it's hard to walk away from these exhibits. The river otters appear to be fed a diet high in sugar. There is no shortage of energy with these creatures - and they were happy to perform a show demonstrating endless enthusiasm in the form of diving, swimming, staring at their fake dam, followed by more swimming.

The loggerhead turtles are found in the "big ocean bowl" exhibit - where they swam in a counter-clockwise direction with hundreds of other huge fish. I assume the fish, sharks and turtles in this exhibit got together one day, and decided that the fishbowl highway runs counter clockwise. Everyone seems good with this program, except the turtles. These guys are cruisin' for a bruisin. About every 5 minutes, the turtles change course to clockwise, and this is where the real fun begins. Big fish collisions! The water churns with excitement. Who knew that turtles were such troublemakers?

A day hop...becomes an overnite offshore sail into Charleston

2010-04-23T19:10:00.034-04:00

Our forecasted weather window of lite westerly breezes has morphed into winds from the north - for the second day. The bad news...is the winds are from the north, and we won't be sailing. The good news...is that the winds are light - so we motor sail.

We depart our mooring in Fernandina Beach with a swift moving ebbing current. Cat Maudy is nearly a go-fast boat moving at 10 knots leaving the harbor. With now 2 days of barely any winds - the seas are smooth, and we head northward to our next day hop destination -- St. Catherine's Sound - just south of Savannah Georgia.

Twenty miles north of Fernandina, we approached the channel to St Simon's Inlet. A large motor yacht is hailing the Coast Guard requesting guidance into the channel. The Coast Guard refuses to help. Not even a little - like hey -- head "west" or something like that. We could see the motor yacht just ahead of us. The Captain gave up asking the Coasties for help...and hailed us to see if we could give any assistance. Paddy told him to head at 303 degrees from the outer sea buoy...and follow the channel buoys 'red...right...returning'. The other captain profusely thanked us for our help. He 'splained he had been offshore and up for 35 hours, was shorthanded on crew...and probably too tired to see the difference between land and water. While I have to wonder why a boat like his doesn't have GPS software that will show him the way, or even a good set of binoculars to SEE the channel markers....I can appreciate being overly tired on your boat.

Can we talk? Has the Coast Guard stopped helping the little people on boats - i.e. fishermen and cruisers? Do they not like us? Maybe the Great Recession has hit them hard - and they don't have any more money for boat fuel? Whatever it is, the Coasties seem preoccupied with other important duties. Such as polishing their guns, training to shoot at boats, or practicing war games on coastal waterways. These are skills your average cruising mariner can appreciate. During one stretch, for 15 hours...the Coast Guard repeatedly reported a disabled vessel 15 miles off shore that was taking on water -- and all OTHER vessels should assist. Now, if I was on a boat that was sinking...it sure would have been nice if help could arrive. OK? Just say'n.

The landscape of Georgia is a stark contrast - from South Florida. South Florida is filled with high rise hotels and condos - with every inch of beachfront property owned by wealthy individuals or corporations. In Georgia - there are no buildings....no (or very little) beachfront development. It is quite refreshing. The coastline consists of one island after another, separated by "sounds". Most of the sounds provide access from the ocean -- to inland, if you are planning to use a rowboat. The sounds are extremely shallow, and include shoaling out 6-8 miles into the ocean. There are TWO deep water channels in Georgia. One in the southern end called St Simon's Inlet - which takes you into Brunswick, and the other further north leads you into Savannah. In between, unless you REALLY REALLY want to get to Georgia from the ocean, and are willing to risk running aground....you might just want to keep on going.

This is exactly what we discovered. After motor-sailing from 6:30AM to 4PM - we were two miles away from the channel into St Catherine's Sound. But, when we got to the "channel markers" - we discovered there were none. Apparently someone decided that the channel into St Catherine's Sound....starts 3 miles IN from the outer shoal. This means, we would have had to "wing it" for a few miles HOPING we don't run aground...til we made it to the "channel". Think of it this way - you are in your car, and trying to get to I-95....but there is a big forest for 3 miles between you and the highway. You have to go off-roadin. You have no idea how to get TO I-95...but you have to go thru the forest to get there. So, if you can figure it out....and weave thru the trees, then you get to hop on the highway. Otherwise, enjoy the trees in the forest.

So, here we are - 4PM at St. Catherine's Sound. We couldn't safely get into shore. It is time to consider some new options. Our next port is Savannah Georgia. The outer sea buoy is located 20 miles from us. We could motor there at 7knots....but it is a long channel from the sea buoy to land - at least 8 miles. From there we would need to travel another 12 miles up the river to find any anchorage. It would be dark by 8pm. Not a good option.

The only other option - is to keep going. All night, to Charleston. It's hard to imagine that this is our best option, especially after I had just sworn off of any more overnight sails and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But, it is our best option. Really, our only option. In addition, the course correction needed to head to Charleston -- allows us to shut off the motors, and just sail. This puts Paddy in a VERY good mood. The weather is favorable - 8 knot winds from the south...and Cat Maudy is back to being a sailing machine. She loves lite air - and is cruising along at 6 knots. Nice.

The sail is quickly becoming the best sail of our trip. With a gentle breeze, and flat seas...Cat Maudy is eating up the light air off her stern quarter. We predicted arrival into the Charleston Harbor around 8AM. I rush to the galley - and prepare dinner and snacks for the night. PB&J's all around.

Just shy of the Tybee Sound off the coast of Georgia, we are greeted by a school of dolphins. These creatures love to swim, jump and play near the beam and bow of our boat. Their presence makes for a wonderful diversion from staring at the horizon, the trip odometer or the most current GPS position. I grab my camera to capture the moment - and Flipper & Friends do their best to avoid being filmed. Switching to video mode proved to have better results. Gotcha!

We reached the channel marker for Savannah while we still had some daylight. This is a good thing. Savannah is an active shipping port - and despite the fact that we only had a mile to go to REACH the channel...incoming and outgoing commercial freighters were moving in and out of the channel at 15 and 23 knots. We had to GIBE the boat twice to let the freighters have right of way, before Cat Maudy could sprint to get to the other side of the channel.

By 8:30PM, the twilight from the setting sun disappeared, and a three quarter moon rises to provide just enough glow for low lite, nite time visibility. The sky is clear, and with the combination of starlight and moonlight, gentle lapping seas, and a constant southwest breeze - the night was becoming magical. Still, this is no time to let down your guard. We are between 8 and 10 miles offshore, and there are unmarked buoys, sunken ships and depths as shallow as 20 feet. Every 5 minutes we scan the dark horizon for any shadows or lights, the charts for any course deviations, the AIS software in case a big ship is heading our way, and the radar to show us anything else we may have missed. The attention to detail feels much greater at nighttime.

VHF channel 16 is buzzing with activity. Flares go off near St. Catherine's Sound - indicating some mariner is in trouble. A fishing vessel 60 miles offshore has a disabled engine. More vessels hail the Coasties with their troubles....and true to form, the Coasties simply broadcast the troubled position - and suggest other boaters in your area assist you. We notice the lights of two other sailboats who appear to be traveling a similar course to ours, en route to Charleston. Our comfort factor goes up a notch. We have "ghost friends" nearby.

By 1AM, the winds had shifted to the southwest, and had lightened up. Our speeds were degrading to the "TOO SLOW" range. Time to turn one engine back on and kick up the speed. We continued with one engine, motor sailing until daybreak (6AM). The shipping channel into Charleston is now less than 11 miles away. We make a slight course change toward the channel - and this gives us a better direction for the winds. Back to sailing - and Cat Maudy trucks along at 7 knots!

Just as we arrive near the Charleston shipping channel - the Coast Guard announces they will be shooting off their guns at 8AM near Charleston. Of course! They want all mariners to stay away from the shooting zone. At the same time, they announce a vessel is taking on water and needs help. Perhaps another boater could help them? hmmmm..... We sail as quickly as possible into the Charleston Harbor...away from the shooting spree. Our two "unknown" sailboat friends from the night, arrive shortly thereafter.

While sailing up the harbor, and back in cell phone range, I hook up a game of tennis - with my Charleston "tennis connection", Cindy. The overnight sail is over, and it's time to focus on getting endorphins. Cindy informs us that this weekend will be buzzing with the "Blessing of the Shrimp Fleet" - a big event that occurs on Sunday here in Charleston / Mt. Pleasant. It appears to be an opportunity to eat a LOT of shrimp. We vow to find out more about this - once we get some much needed sleep.

We grab a slip at the Charleston City Marina. The folks here at the City Marina are the nicest imaginable. They speak with a delightful southern drawl. My conversation with the dock hand goes like this:

me: How was the weather this winter in Charleston?
CityMarina folks (CMF): yes, ma'am...we sur had a col one
me: Did you have any snow?
CMF: yes ma'am...we even made sno balls
me: OK, I'm going to throw you this bow line...are you ready
CMF: yes ma'am....thank you ma'am
me: OK, I'm gonna throw you this spring line....ready?
CMF: yes ma'am...thank you ma'am
...and on and on

I then ask the dock hand if he knows anything about the "Blessing of the Shrimp Fleet". Most people would say - "no sorry.." and be done with it. But, not here. We are in the heart of southern hospitality - Charleston. The dock hand replies "yes ma'am....I've heard of it...let me find out more for you"....and contacts the Marina office to get more information for me. The lady at the marina office, takes it on her own to research the "Blessing of the Shrimp Fleet", and then comes to FIND ME (walking down the pier) - and tell me how they can help me to GET THERE. Not just with a map....but they will DRIVE US to the other side of the peninsula, and then pick us up to bring us back....and wanted to know WHEN we wanted to go. OMG. How hospitable is that??

Offshore to Fernandina Beach

2010-04-21T17:04:00.006-04:00

With a 4-day unheard of weather window, we were jones'n to make 4 consecutive day hops...to Charleston SC. I had plenty of time to triple check the weather before we departed at daybreak. That's because the anchor alarm started blaring at 3AM. Our software "thought" we had moved from our anchored position....but really we hadn't moved. Since you never really know for sure - I didn't dare turn off the alarm. My sleep state was over.

Every weather and mariner forecast predicted that seas would be flat...with light winds from the west. No chance of thunderstorms. One out of three of these components turned out to be correct.

The seas were VERY flat. Light swells gently rocked the boat from the southeast. The winds however - were from the NORTH. Not "North WEST" or "North North WEST"....but completely NORTH. And we are headed NORTH. With the winds hitting us on the nose - there would be no sailing today. Thunderclouds were forming everywhere. We motored. As fast as possible.

The highlights of our trip from St Augustine to Fernandina Beach include:

- 4 sea turtles, of which I had no luck in photographing so you'll have to take my word on this

- many dolphin friends joined Cat Maudy for the ride

- we watched the Coast Guard do training exercises near Jacksonville, and we're very happy they didn't point their weapons at us

- staring at very BLACK clouds hoping they wouldn't turn into waterspouts

We arrived at Fernandina Beach Florida (on Amelia Island), as our last stop in Florida - on our northbound trip. To the right of the channel...was Georgia. We are so close, that we can throw rocks at Georgia...but we didn't. That wouldn't be nice.

To the west...is beautiful, pristine swampland. Beautiful in comparison with looking to the east. In the east, are a series of paper factories...which smell bad, and dozens of shrimp and fishing boats...which also smell bad. All of these bad smells are attracting a lot of bugs. We waste no time closing all of the hatches.

We arrived at the Fernandina Harbor mooring field - and latched onto a mooring. The currents in north Florida are swift - and we didn't want to wake up discovering we had dragged anchor into Georgia.

How OLD is the city of St. Augustine? Captain Paddy 'splains...

2010-04-20T16:46:00.003-04:00

Captain Paddy takes a break from sailing...to provide a history lesson on St. Augustine, FL. St. Augustine has been a US city for a LONG time. A very LONG time. This is a very very very OLD city. Get it? View this Paddy video classic.

Zombies....in St Augustine

2010-04-19T13:51:00.016-04:00

Somewhere around 11:30am....3 full hours into a deep sleep upon arrival in St. Augustine...we awoke to a huge BOOM that shook the boat. Being at anchor, it was easy to imagine the worst. We were anchored close to barges, cranes and bridges....maybe Cat Maudy dragged anchor and hit one of these beasts? Or, maybe another boat dragged into ours? We bolted from a wonderful dream state...and sprinted to the cockpit for a "looksy".

Nope. No collisions. We haven't moved. And, no one has run into us. OK....maybe we are so tired that we are imagining huge BOOMING sounds in our sleep? And then we heard it again. BOOM. The explosion rattled the boat.

Our anchorage is located adjacent to a FORT. The cannons at this FORT are still working. They are working exceptionally well, as a matter of fact. Every 30 minutes for the next 7 hours - Cat Maudy jumps an inch outta the water, Soxy's hair stands up straight....and we keep thinking about how nice it might feel to sleep. Maybe when the tourists go home.

There we were, Paddy and I....blissfully riding a fancy tandem road bicycle leaving Chicago on Route 66 -- heading to California. Paddy was breaking wind (no...not "that" kind of wind)...catching bugs in his teeth...and I was pedaling high on endorphins. We were dragging along a tent, a laptop and two padded boat cushions for seating. Soxy rode along in a basket. We planned to stop in a KOA campground for the nite. They have showers at the KOA...and we would need one. My SPOT beacon rested on the handlebars and I could no longer remember when I transmitted my last GPS position. It didn't matter. We were biking Route 66 and there was no telling what we would see and who we would meet....

This is how far I got into my perfect dream --biking only a few miles outside of Chicago -- when all hell broke loose at 3AM on Cat Maudy. The "YO -- you're dragging anchor" alarms fired on all cylinders - and Paddy and I scramble to the cockpit. The barges, cranes and bridges sure seem a lot closer at night. Next to us...our anchored boat neighbors had bonded. They had dragged into each other...and were heading our way. We had 90 feet of chain out....and Paddy turned on the engines, while I went forward to prep the windlass for raising the anchor. We watched and waited. We blew our boat horn to wake up our dragging neighbors. Eventually they heard us...and moved their boat.

The tidal currents in St. Augustine are strong. Raging would be a better description. There is a 5' tidal change between low and high tides, and when the winds oppose the currents - even the best anchoring plans can go sour. For now, we haven't moved enough -- to reposition. So we monitor our surroundings for the next hour.

Just as daylight arrived....so did the crane and barge workers. Incessant noise from construction started at 6:30AM. Cranes dropping large loads of rocks into dump trucks. Workers yelling at each other...and tugboats blasting their horns. For now, I'll just bookmark my dream...there would not be room for sleep in St. Augustine.

Slim pickins - offshore to St. Augustine

2010-04-18T13:32:00.015-04:00

I've come to the conclusion that Ft. Pierce is a foul weather abyss. Expect endless days of easterly winds and pounding seas. You know you're desperate for a sailing weather window, when you consider going offshore in conditions that previously would have been unacceptable.

So, here are the options. Saturday. One day. One 24 hour day. No more...no less. This is our "window". After that - no more weather windows out of Ft. Pierce for a week. Easterly winds would subside eventually around Ft. Pierce....but would become favorable further "northward" along the coast. Translation: We could depart Ft. Pierce early Saturday....the sea state would be BIG and UGLY....but eventually the seas would get better. Swells from the east would remain BIG til we got beyond Cape Canaveral...then the sea state would subside. This boils down to two choices:

(1) We could sail for 1 day and get to Cape Canaveral in the daylight....or (2) use the full 24 hour window of opportunity - and sail overnight to St. Augustine -- 164 miles.

There wasn't much conversation on Cat Maudy for the first 4 hours offshore. I spent much of my time staring off at the horizon to avoid being seasick....and Paddy tended to steering the boat. So far, this was not "fun"...and I had to turn off the "little people" in my head who were chatting incessantly about how rough the seas are.

Within 30 miles of Cape Canaveral the winds and seas began to subside. This was the deciding moment. We either continue beyond Cape Canaveral to St. Augustine for an all-niter (160 miles)....or head in to Cape Canaveral (65 miles). Talk about undesirable options: Sail further offshore into unknown sea conditions and sail in the dark VS stop at Cape Canaveral and wait another WEEK for the next weather window. We opted to keep going. I couldn't imagine being stuck in Cape Canaveral for a week.

The winds had subsided, and we were motor-sailing. Cat Maudy maintained a speed of 7 knots. At one point, we were 12 miles offshore - allowing us to clear the shoals around Cape Canaveral. You could barely make out the largest of buildings on shore. At this distance the coastline was hazy. Things were looking pretty "lonely" out in the ocean - until FLIPPER discovered the roar of our engines. When I first noticed the dark fin of this large mammal....I thought maybe it was a shark. But as he gracefully slid thru the water, and hopped over the surface, keeping pace alongside the beam of Cat Maudy - this was no shark!

Apparently, Flipper was having so much fun discovering US....that he sent a SONAR-GRAM to all of his porpoise buddies miles away. From a mile radius all around Cat Maudy....the water surface came alive with FLIPPER's friends all racing toward us. They stopped whatever they were doing -- feeding, napping, whatever porpoises do -- and are full speed heading toward us. Within 60 seconds - Cat Maudy was the "place to be". Dozens of porpoises came to greet us...and spent a good 15 minutes cruising, jumping and playing alongside Cat Maudy. It was very cool.

We passed by the last shoal of Cape Canaveral at 6pm, and changed course to head closer to the shoreline. By now, we had consumed our second (out of a total of 4 in 24 hours) PB&J sandwiches. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are the food of choice during bouncy sea states. No need to spend time prepping food in the galley....if that means you'll be too seasick to eat it. So, we eat the 'easy stuff'' - PB & J's.

Daylight hours were waning...and by 8:30pm twilight was replaced by moonlight. We are now 14 miles north of Cape Canaveral, and the sea state could not be better. Light swells from the south, and winds from the south to southwest. If we weren't pedal to the metal to make the 24 hour weather window...we could have just "sailed". By adding engine power to the sail mix -- helped us keep a 7 knot per hour pace.

I grabbed an hour of shuteye around midnight, and then Paddy took his turn for an hour of zzzz's. It might not sound like a lot, but just an hour of sleep can really perk you up. Time for another PB&J.

By 2AM...our moonlight was replaced by starlight, and a coastline of city lights. Soxy, our cat decided this was her moment to investigate the innards of our stack pack. The stack pack is a bunch of material that is used to "wrap up" our main sail. When we are sailing, the stack pack just "hangs" on either side of the boom. When we discovered Soxy was nowhere to be found....she had discovered hiding in the stack pack. Now, we are cruising along at 7 knots (sometimes 8)...there is dew all over the deck....it's dark out.....and Soxy can't seem to figure out how to get OUT of the stack pack. Instead of returning to where she go INTO the stack pack (near the mast)...she decided that the only way OUT - is at the end of the boom -- which hangs out over the water.

Now, Soxy is family. But with that said....we are not about to put ourselves in peril trying to save her. OK....maybe a little peril.... What is up with cats? Did you ever notice how they climb up a tree....find a little limb to dangle on....and can't figure out how to return to the base of the tree? Nooooo....you have to rescue them. They like this. They want you to rescue them.

Soxy is peering at us, trying to get OUT of the stack pack - at a position where she will surely fall into the water. Aiii.... I tether to our forward lines...and creep toward the mast on a slippery deck. From here...I coax Soxy to walk along the boom FORWARD toward me. As soon as I can reach her...I grab her around the shoulders...and she hugs me in a death grip. Kitty saved. No one in the water. And, Soxy is quarantined INSIDE the boat until further notice.

By 4AM the sea state has completely flattened, and we enjoy a perfect offshore westerly breeze. We continue motor sailing....for optimal time. By now, our eyes are blurry....and it's hard to tell the difference between a boat who might be navigating near you....or if it is just lights from the shoreline. We are getting really tired....and daybreak can't arrive soon enough.

We arrive at the St. Augustine inlet around 7:30AM - and navigate to an anchorage. Anchors down....confirmation that we are "holding" ground....and collapse from exhaustion.

Ft. Pierce - home for a week

2010-04-16T12:33:00.009-04:00

After 5 days at anchor, I wondered if Cat Maudy had sprouted a new "home port". Ft. Pierce, Florida. Earlier in the week, with 2 ocean sail, back to back hops --
(1) Ft. Lauderdale to Lake Worth (45 miles), and
(2) Lake Worth to Ft. Pierce (60 miles)-- it looked as if Cat Maudy was cruising on a northbound ROLL. We were in the mindset that nearly every day would be a sailing day.

WRONG. The weather windows had completely evaporated. Each day introduced worse sailing conditions than the prior day. Strong winds from the EAST produced whopper seas and sea conditions. Exasperation, frustration, and resignation that "there's no place like home" - resembled Ft. Pierce.

We made the best use of our time at anchor...getting work done for clients...staring at every imaginable weather service on the Internet hoping that ONE day would look favorable....and staring at each other. There is only so much one can take....and Paddy knows when I need to get to shore and exercise. 5 days without land endorphins is well over any girl's limit. We bought a night at the inn (i.e. dock slip space at the Harbortown Marina) - and within minutes I had the tires pumped up on my roadbike (Ms. Trek Madone).

It's hard to put into words the feeling when clipping into your roadbike, prepping for a high cadence workout....when tires meet an actual road surface. Unable to ride my Trek roadbike on land (it's been hooked up to a trak stand on Cat Maudy) for 4 months -- I had forgotten that breathtaking feeling about riding on real pavement. It was glorious beyond description. My mood picked up considerably....and it suddenly didn't matter that we had been stuck in Ft. Pierce.

Paddy knows a good thing....and bought us a second night at dockside. This allowed me to exercise fanatically making up for lost time on land -- with a day filled with biking...running...and swimming. Life is good!

We also prepped the boat for eventual sailing. I said "we"....but really this means Paddy. He handles the much needed boat chores while I get my happy-face on. Paddy removed all of the fresh water from our storage tanks -- and replaced it with good ol' chlorinated drinking water. Turns out we had a bit of a problem with our drinking water supply. While spending time on Biscayne Bay we had gotten into the habit of MAKING our own water, and filled our storage tanks with de-salinated, filtered water from the Bay. It wasn't until I experienced a gut wrenching dose of intestinal unpleasantness....that we figured out our "made" water was not so good. Enuf said.

Gambling with weather

2010-04-09T20:14:00.007-04:00

I have a few rules when it comes to sailing offshore. One, is NEVER travel on "weather transition" days. "Never" seems pretty strong. Mostly "never".

These are the days where the winds are clocking around to a new wind pattern. For example, if winds start out in the AM from the South....and are predicted to be blowing from the NORTH by the afternoon -- this would be a NO NO for sailing. Generally, the winds clock FASTER than they are predicted...and in our case we would be doing battle with winds on the nose.

So, when I woke up at 3:30AM to study the latest weather patterns, it looked as if we had a small window. Winds would be south / southwest...and by 4pm...they would be out of the north. If we could make the same speeds we made during the sail from Ft. Lauderdale to Lake Worth (or even 8 knots) - we would be in Ft. Pierce in 6 hours. Knowing that the transition days clock to new wind direction ALWAYS earlier than predicted....we would have to leave....early. Pre-dawn. Just because the winds always transition early. If we don't sail today....we may be stuck in Lake Worth for 3-4 days waiting for weather.

By 5AM we decided to go for it - and at 5:30AM motored out of the Lake Worth Inlet. It is 55 miles to Ft. Pierce. The sea state was delightful. Calm. One problem tho. There was very little wind. So much for plans to travel at 8 knots minimum. We motor sailed for the first 3 hours...and then the winds picked up from the southwest. I am becoming greedy. If our speed dropped below 8 knots, I started fussing that we needed to trim the sails better. We need 9+ knots to make up for lost time.

Be careful what you wish for. We are 45 minutes from Ft. Pierce, and the winds are transitioning. Out of the west now...over 20 knots. We pick up more speed - and reach the inlet by 12:10. Just in time. 30 minutes later, it rained...and the winds clocked over to north east. We lucked out gambling today. I won't make a habit of it tho.

Departing Ft. Lauderdale

2010-04-08T19:52:00.002-04:00

Cat Maudy's leak is fixed...and we are ready to move on. She is launched back into the water at 10AM... Slack tide is 10:30AM. It couldn't be better timing for one more trip on the New River through downtown Ft. Lauderdale.

We learned our lesson navigating INBOUND on the New River. This time, I checked the schedules for the Carrie B and Jungle Queen sightseeing paddle boats. They would not be meeting us head on. Plus, we tucked behind mega-yacht Euphoria....and just followed them for the ride OUTBOUND. It also helped not being Easter weekend. We had zero traffic on the New River.

The weather windows are reasonably good for offshore cruising - so we plan to depart Port Everglades - and sail 45 miles north to Lake Worth. Winds are 10-15 from the East. Generally I don't prefer easterly winds or seas. Too much bounce on the beam. But the weather deteriorates by the weekend - so we go for it.

As huge swells and waves rolled INTO us, I started having second thoughts about our choice of weather opportunities. We are heading due EAST out of the channel. The swells pushed the bow of Cat Maudy WAY up in the air....and then she crashed down into the trough just in time for the next wave to come crashing over the bow and foredeck. OH my. We continued out of the channel, and my thoughts were fixed on the belief that the ride would be better once we changed course.

Finally, we rounded the last shoal, and changed to a northerly course, Sure enough the sea state was more tolerable. Not great...but tolerable. We averaged 9.2 knots...with a high speed of 11 knots. Apparent winds were 12 knots. We couldn't figure out why Cat Maudy was hitting such fast cruising speeds - but I wasn't complaining. The faster we get to Lake Worth....the faster we can be done with these bouncy seas. Go Cat Maudy GO!

We cruised into Lake Worth Inlet in just over 4.5 hours. And spent the night analyzing weather, patterns, sea states and predictions. Can we make another hop to Ft. Pierce before the weather crumbles?

Hubub at the LMC

2010-04-07T19:24:00.002-04:00

The Lauderdale Marine Center boat yard is filled with the largest yachts you can imagine. Well over 100 feet in length. Most of these yachts are larger than a 3000 sq foot home - 4 and 5 stories tall. The yard is a buzz with hundreds of contractors and servants - to the owners of these mega yachts. And then there's us. Itsy bitsy Cat Maudy - compared to these monster ships. Cat Maudy is hauled onto land to fix her leak. We sat next to a yacht called "Barbie". My barbie doll fishing pole felt right at home.

Keith, the expert from Yanmar (the engine folks) - started right away working on the leak. He had the engine and our sail drive out of the boat within the first hour. And, he found the leak. The "seal" that is supposto SEAL out the water....had a huge gash. Looked like a knife wound. Before the end of the day, Keith had the problem fixed...and all of the parts were put back together. Nobody knows WHY the seal was gashed. It just is.

Paddy is convinced that each and every time Cat Maudy is hauled out of the water - we have to paint the bottom of the boat. "Bottom paint" - is some really nasty black or blue paint that is designed to prevent growth of sea organisms on the bottom of your boat. Bottom paint smells bad, gets all over you ...and is toxic. I'm really looking forward to this.

We rent a car and spend the afternoon picking up all paint supplies (tape, paint, stir sticks, paint suits, shower caps, goggles, gloves....) and prep the boat for two coats of paint. I've got this down to a science. This will be the 4th time in 3.5 years that we've painted the bottom of Cat Maudy.

The remaining 2 days on land at the Lauderdale Marine Center are a blur. Two coats of bottom paint. A road trip back to Miami to pick up mail left behind. Provisioning as if we will not get to a grocery store for the next 3 months. Including, stockpiling Starbucks coffee. Paddy needs his coffee.

The New River

2010-04-04T18:53:00.004-04:00

The New River in Ft. Lauderdale is touted as the American version of waterways and channels in Venice. If this is true, then I will scratch off my bucket list any attempt to ride the river boats in Italy.

The New River is not designed for mega yachts, sightseeing paddle boats...or even catamarans for that matter. It is best suited for rowboats and kayaks.

Ok. I will concede. It's a beautiful weekend. It's Easter weekend. Which means that everyone who owns a boat in Ft. Lauderdale is on the water. Prossibly not the best time to attempt navigation up the winding, narrow, hairpin turning, waterway through downtown Ft. Lauderdale called the New River. But, we had no choice.

We did all the right things. Kindof. I plotted the 4 bridges I needed to hail. We put out all of our fenders (bumpers) around the boat. Just in case of a little collision. I scratched out a picture of all the hairpin turns and highlighted them in yellow. Yes yes yes...we have GPS. I didn't need to draw a picture.

We waited for slack tide. I made 3 "Securite" calls on VHF Channel 16. Um. That would not be correct. A bunch of captains started yelling at me to use Channel 09 for the New River. Otherwise, nobody hears you. Such details.

So, I switched to VHF Channel 09 and made 5 more "Securite" calls alerting mariners in the opposite direction that we are a wide-load catamaran inbound on the New River. It didn't matter. Between the Carrie B and Jungle Queen sightseeing paddle wheel boats, and the mega yachts that practically consume the entire width of the narrow "river" - it seemed as if Cat Maudy would soon become a monohull sailboat.

You could not see boaters coming toward you around the hairpin turns. I didn't hear anyone else making "Securite" calls. So, you basically had to peek your nose around the corner...hope for the best....hit the throttle hard if it is clear....or back down just as fast and hope that the boaters behind you will notice.

Despite the supercharged stress level of navigating the New River -- we eventually made it to our destination. Lauderdale Marine Center. We tied up to their dock....and stepped onto land. It was a glorious moment.

Many new friends at Lake Sylvia

2010-04-03T18:21:00.000-04:00

After sailing to Ft. Lauderdale on a leaky boat - we had safely made it to our anchorage in Lake Sylvia, near the Port Everglades inlet. The magic kick-butt pump pushed out the incoming water, before you had time to notice the water level in the engine compartment was rising. We now had to wait on anchor for 2 days - as Cat Maudy is scheduled to be hauled outta the water on the following Monday. Whew. All is good. Time to let down our guard.

Anchoring in Lake Sylvia is nearly the same as rafting up with some other boater you have never met before. The notion of having plenty of room to swing around your anchor safely without colliding into another boater is gone. The currents are tricky, and anchoring is not for the novice. We've had plenty of experience dragging anchor.

We anchored Friday afternoon, and after 24 hours of changing direction due to tides, and looking at neighboring boats in very close proximity - we felt pretty secure. So, when a mega power yacht dropped anchor 20 feet from us (far too close) - we stopped expressing concern. Everyone seems to anchor too close here - so just go with it. It's a friendly Florida thing.

Thirty minutes later, while eating popcorn for dinner - a huge THUD shakes our boat. I run out to the foredeck - and sure enough, the mega yacht dragged anchor - right into the bow of Cat Maudy. Paddy and I made a noisy fuss trying to get the boaters attention. The captain and crew were below deck, and hadn't noticed they had dragged anchor - or the collision with Cat Maudy. Cat Maudy and the mega yacht were now "one".

Finally we got their attention. The captain of the mega yacht informed us how tricky it is to anchor in Lake Sylvia - since WE are new to the area. hmmmm. Let's see. Dude...YOU dragged anchor into OUR boat".

Welcome to Ft. Lauderdale!

Pon pon pon pon....Cat Maudy is taking on water

2010-04-02T10:47:00.008-04:00

When Captain Paddy broke the news that Cat Maudy had sprung a leak...and water was coming in -- I admit my first thought was getting OFF the sinking ship.

Sure enough, all of the little seals that are used to keep the water OUT of the engine compartment - BROKE - and now water is sloshing in. Paddy's thinks we need to sail Cat Maudy 30 miles offshore up to Ft. Lauderdale - to get the boat hauled out. Yeah right. I'm going to knowingly get into a sinking ship...go offshore for 30 miles and tap my heels together 3 times....repeating "there's no place like home". This is way above my pay grade.

After getting over the initial shock that we are suddenly taking on water, the next step is trying to figure out how to STOP it from coming in. So, we dried up the water as best we could, in the engine compartment and watched. Every little wave bounce...forced new water in the starboard engine compartment. The seals around the engine are breached. There is nothing we can do to stop it while she sits in the water. Now what?

Surely there is a boat yard in Miami that can haul out Cat Maudy? Yes and no. There is a boat yard up the Miami river, with a crane that could lift CM outta the water. Unfortunately, the guys are more interested in PAINTING Cat Maudy rather than fixing the LEAK....so we weren't too comfortable with their expertise. We continue to talk to everyone we know - only to determine that the boat yards we need -- are located in Ft. Lauderdale, and not Miami. Going offshore is becoming the only option.

Going offshore on a sinking ship is not on my bucket list. I double checked. So, we prepped for the worst, and hoped for the best. The prep part includes purchasing a submersible pump...that can pump out upto 1100 gallons per hour. I tried to imagine 1100 gallons - and this seems like a lot. Paddy spent the night wiring up the kick-ass pump - while I re-read the life raft/ abandon ship instructions, reviewed the weather conditions for the umteenth time...and prepared a ditch bag. A ditch bag contains your most important belongings, i.e. everything you MUST keep -- in the size of a knapsack. It is used when you need to "ditch" the boat. i.e. Abandon ship. Soxy, our cat could not understand why I was trying to stuff her in a bag.

Offshore weather conditions were calling for 8-12 knots of winds from the east. It turned out to be closer to 20 knots from the east - and the seas were quite lumpy. My job, among other sail trimming and hoisting tasks...was to check on the water leak every 15 minutes. The routine went something like this: I felt around the compartment door for water....held my breath....opened the door....no water gushed over the doorway....whew.....checked the water level....discovered the little pump is working like a champ...more whew.....and shut the compartment door. Ft. Lauderdale cannot come soon enough!

By mid-afternoon - Cat Maudy entered Port Everglades in Ft. Lauderdale. She is still afloat despite taking on water. We anchor in Lake Sylvia, near the New River - and exhale a huge sigh of relief. We are within reach of the boat yard now and wait in the queue to get hauled out....and repaired.

Weather excitement in the mooring field

2010-03-29T16:21:00.006-04:00

At some point, you realize you've become acclimated to extreme weather. Floridians do this all the time during hurricane season. When they are not lined up 100 deep in checkout lines at Home Depot, gas stations and stores that sell ice. OK...maybe Floridians are not as acclimated as I think.

Today's forecast - called for tornado's and water spouts on Biscayne Bay. Naturally, we are on a direct course for this excitement - and there is not a darned thing we can do about it.

The first batch of squalls caused anchored boats to drag, and float through the mooring field. The Dinner Key marina folks had this one under control - and hauled the adrift boats to another location.

The next batch of squalls included the potential tornado. We must have missed it. I'm not complaining. The winds kicked up enough to break our wind speed gauge. The boat shook and rain came at us in horizontal blasts. Visibility nil. Then, it was over. Water spouts developed near No Name Harbor on Key Biscayne. Two helicopters crashed in the Port of Miami. Everyone was safely rescued. All in a day.

Kite Skiing

2010-03-28T10:29:00.000-04:00

Love to water ski and don't own a boat? Get a kite!

Kite skiing appears to be the most self-reliant method to go skiing whenever you like (assuming you have some wind) - and where ever you want to go.

This kite skier - who navigated through the mooring field missing tall sailing masts and a zillion boats on a busy weekend -- makes it look very easy. He has to manage the line to make sure he doesn't get tangled with other mariners, watch for boating traffic on the move, get the best winds, and stay upright. Surely, he has done this before. Captured on the blog video cam!

Bicycles and Bayside

2010-03-27T09:32:00.005-04:00

A bicycling advocate was surely on the "design committee" when Miami metro rail was first proposed. It is practically impossible to ride your bike on the roads in Maimi. Having lived in NYC and metro-DC, I can assure you that Miami drivers win the gold medal for "I drive - and am in a huge hurry" attitude. For the past 2 months, Paddy and I ride our bikes with extreme caution....and in tandem....assuming the drivers are not interested in 2 hood ornaments for the price of one.

However, directly underneath the raised metro rail...is a delightful bike and jogging path connecting South Miami to Downtown. A path completely devoid of automobiles.... a bikers dream. This path, would be our ticket to Bayside Miami - in downtown.

The weather was perfect with light headwinds en route to Miami out of the north. Within 45 minutes - we had arrived at the end of our path. This should have been downtown Miami - just 2 blocks from Bayside. Instead, the path ended at the Miami River. I guess the path designers forgot about putting a bridge over the river so that joggers and bikers could complete their journey. Small details. Time for plan B. We abandoned the biker path...for scary Miami roads. Slowly winding our way over one drawbridge, and a series of sidewalks and one way streets - we arrived at Bayside - intact.

It comes as no surprise that Bayside is a tourist trap. The harbor is filled with boats providing sightseeing tours, and Go-Fast boats offering speed rides in the Atlantic. Food choices range from the typical Americana...to local flavors. The language? Predominantly Spanish. Which is OK, other than the constant reminder that I need to get beyond Lesson 2 "Learn to speak Spanish" in Rosetta Stone.

Keeping with the Miami-vibe, we opted for Cuban food. And, we weren't disappointed. Black beans, rice, plantains, and one last close-up glimpse into Miami. The weather is morphing into summer, and soon Cat Maudy will be departing this Miami winter respite. We took our time, taking it all in.

3 fisherwomen and a barbie

2010-03-25T05:12:00.017-04:00

With temperatures in the mid 70's, steady breezes from the south, and waters begging for fishing, our day at Boca Chita Key transformed into "Island Time". Let me explain how "Island Time" works. You wake up in the AM....look at your overstuffed inbox, stare at your ambitious workout schedule, spin thru the many phone calls that you need to respond to....and then walk away. Those demands can wait. Shhh....I didn't say that. For now, time stands still. Should we go for a leisurely walkabout on the island, or just make "boat talk" with other mariners? Should we make plans for a potluck dinner...or figure out the best fishing hole? Or, should we just play with a hermit crab?

It doesn't take much to perk up my curiosity when seashells start walking by themselves. Linda and I discovered a small seashell attempting to run from our path, so we had to get to know this little creature. Meet our new friend Cliff. Cliff, the hermit crab. How did Cliff get his name - you ask? Just as we discovered him, a femme boater, wandered in our path looking for her husband Cliff. Cliff apparently had wandered off. She said she had hubby on a short leash....but he escaped anyway. We think Cliff was trying to hide under this little shell. Of course we said "no", we hadn't seen her husband Cliff - as we held him on a large leaf behind our backs.

It took a bit of time getting to know Cliff. He had one large claw...and hid under his shell any time he saw Linda's hand whoosh over his eyeballs. After 1/4 mile of walking, with little Cliff....we came to an understanding. If Cliff stopped trying to walk on the palm of our hands....we'll stop screaming and dropping him to the ground. It seemed to work.

Now, it was time for Cliff to meet our hubbies, and fellow boaters. We released Cliff on the picnic table in front of our boat. Paddy was the first to meet Cliff and had had never seen a hermit crab before. I'm pretty sure he is excited about this. We proceeded to introduce Cliff to any boater who passed by. Cliff got a LOT of exercise trying to get away from us. There goes another 2 hours. It's all good. It's "Island Time".

Eventually, the lady who had lost her hubby Cliff....found him. And we released our Cliff back to Boca Chita nature. hmmm....now what should we do? Oh yeah -- let's go fishing!

3 ladies. One barbie doll fishing pole. And a dingy. Everyone had something to contribute...and nobody had a clue about fishing. I had the pink barbie doll fishing pole, huge work gloves from Home Depot, an official Florida fishing license....and snacks. Linda had a bucket for the fish, the dinghy...an anchor...and knew how to start the outboard motor. Karen had a container filled with live shrimp and crab bait....local knowledge about the best fishing holes....and a makeup kit. We were ready to catch some fish.

After some debate about what constitutes a "fishing hole" - we agreed to drop anchor in the strong tidal current between Boca Chita Key, and Sands Key. The first challenge, was getting the live bait out of the container. The scene was predictable. The shrimp jumped....we screamed. The shrimp jumped again....we screamed more. Linda suggested we should start with dead bait...and work our way up to the live bait. Karen found a dead shrimp....and we squinted our eyes and looked away - while Karen baited the hook. With a dead shrimp.

Linda made the first cast. Nothing. Linda cast again....and wowie zow....like magic - a whopper of a fish took the bait. Our dingy was a buzz with excitement....the fish was dangling off of the barbie doll pole....and Karen was busy providing instructions and simultaneously looking for her makeup kit. It's important to look good for the pictures. Captured on video

It became obvious that SOMEONE would have to touch the fish. In my view, anyone who knows how to start the dinghy outboard motor...should be the one to handle the fish. So, Linda man'd up....and with the huge Home Depot gloves....she grabbed the fish in one hand....and apologized to it profusely for the next 3 minutes while she attempted to remove the hook. It was quite the spectacle. Karen snapped a picture...I filled the bucket with water....and Linda dropped the fish in the bucket. The fish proceeded to splash and jump wildly. We all screamed....and repositioned ourselves as far as possible from the fish frenzy in the bucket. I grabbed Karen's life jacket...and placed it over the bucket. At least the fish can't jump out now.

It's now my turn with the fishing pole. Karen baited it for me - with a nice dead shrimp. I cast it into the fishing hole. So I thought. Karen told me I didn't need to cast it so far. Linda said I was reeling it in to fast. Karen though I should let the bait sink more. Someone wanted me to jerk the line more. Yikes! Suddenly, our dingy was filled with fishing experts...and my days of carefree casting were over. The fish did a good job eating the dead shrimp bait....without getting caught on my hook. So, it was time to hand the pole over to Karen.

Despite the fact that the fish are biting...AND we had a visual on some VERY LARGE fish below the surface - Karen wanted to relocate to another fishing hole. Okey-dokey. We relocated to another fishing hole....and not a nibble. It was at this moment -- that I understood the art of fishing. When you are catching fish....then it's about the fish. When you're not catching fish....then it's about the "fishing stories". And, we had no shortage of stories.

As we continued to fish, dish out, or receive instructions, get the hook stuck on rocks, reposition to new fishing holes, gradually work up to using the "live" bait...and peek at our (I mean, Linda's) miniature trophy fish for the next 2 hours --- the only thing that was missing -- was catching any more fish. It didn't matter. We returned to the Boca Chita Key harbor....proudly displaying our ONE fish....and describing for anyone who would listen....the "big one" that got away.

Back for more of the 'CHI

2010-03-24T08:27:00.025-04:00

A trio of 'cats (Chateau, MakeItSo and Cat Maudy) left the Dinner Key mooring field early Tuesday morning to capture a sweet westerly breeze. The 2 hour sail south to Boca Chita Key is easy sailing thanks to the flat waters of Biscayne Bay. Big seas on a big ocean are way overrated. Give me flat water sailing on the "BB" any day.

If you are not making a passage to the Bahamas, then a visit to Boca Chita should be high on the "places to see" list. With spectacular sailing, lazy kayaking, an abundance of fishing opportunities...blazing sunsets...making way to mesmerizing sunrises -- this little slice of the National Park System is a treasure accessible only by boat. Lucky for us.

Anxious to try out my 'barbie doll' fishing rod in the brisk currents on the north side of the island - I waded to the sandbar, and began casting. Followed by more casting. And, still more casting. Which pretty well sums up my fishing experience. I'm getting a LOT better at casting, but there is work to do, on the "fish catching" part. Fortunately no one was counting on "fresh catch" for dinner...

Highlights of the day include:
-Captain Superwuus muscled Cat Maudy's main sail to the top without electric tools (watch the video)
-Captain Superwuus needed a long rest after hoisting the main sail
-Captain Paddy had a good sail and is in a very good mood (watch the video)
-Karen on Chateau played footsie with Fire Ants and Captain Larry had to toss her into the harbor to get rid of them
-Linda released air outta the bottom of their blow-up kayak to make it less "tippy".
-Rick's sinking butt is now works as a kayak keel.
-Kirby (R&L's pooch) spent most of the day hiding from the Park Ranger and can't understand why no dogs are allowed here
-Soxy, tries not to think about dogs

Mama "N" has flipped the switch

2010-03-23T07:48:00.011-04:00

After 6 months of mother nature filling her cheeks and blowing wind from the north with all her mighty might, Mama "N" is finally tapped out. It's as if a switch has gone off, and she took a moment to look at the calendar. And, just like that - the weather patterns changed. We've waltzed into spring and the air is suddenly filled with heat, humidity and light breezes from the south. The fish have returned to the BB, the water temperatures are rising and it's almost time to bring on the bikini. Well...let's not get carried away.

The pleasantries of Florida are changing too. Perhaps this has something to do with the 2010 census, but the state of Florida is desperate to up it's population count. If you are in the Florida vicinity for more than 90 days as a boater, Florida considers you a "quasi resident" and will assess you a special "welcome to Florida" tax. Plus, you'll be included in the Florida census rolls. Never mind that Florida is not your "home".

Paddy and I discovered these Florida features firsthand while on shore, as we played "dodge the census men". While we've enjoyed twirling on our mooring ball at the Dinner Key Marina for the last 60 days - we're not ready to make hurricane alley our home port. And surely, I could never call "Miami Dade" HOME - considering the lack of community swimming pools. Just as I was about to explain the swimming pool shortage issue to the Census Men....Paddy stepped in, grabbed my arm, and explained to the boys we had to be on our way.

Sigh. I thought they should know.

Barbie gets her REEL on

2010-03-09T18:50:00.054-05:00

While waiting for Paddy to locate "stuff" at the West Marine boat store...I wandered aimlessly, and ended up in the fishing pole section. Dozens of macho brown and grey colored expensive fishing poles are on display. A large chain lashes them together, and locks them securely to the store. Behind the maze of pricey poles, "Lady Fisher" catches my eye.

She is a beauty. Long lean lines of white and pink...with a stunning rose colored CASTING reel. I imagined the long "Whhiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrr....." sounds of my first cast. She is lightweight....and comes with 14 pounds of test line. 14 pounds seems like a plenty large fish to me. Plus, this pole is not locked to the store. Translation...affordable? No doubt this barbie doll "Lady Fisher" is calling my name.

"Paddy...look...it's a pink fishing pole that casts too....what do you think?" I felt like a kid in a candy store who found what she wanted. Let the annoying sales pitch begin. Paddy rolled his eyes....and had no choice but to agree that this fishing pole is meant for me. "Don't you think we need a pink lure to go with it?" I suggested. What fish could resist pink?

It didn't matter that our bike transportation wasn't ideal for carrying a fishing pole. We pedaled through the busy streets of Coconut Grove, while I held my new BB doll fishing pole ...nearly blinding a pedestrian....taking out low lying branches in trees....and being granted a surprisingly wide birth by passing cars.

Paddy is not entirely on board with my fishing plans. Neither of us are interesting in handling a flopping fish...and all of the gory details associated with prepping it for the frying pan. Such details for another day. What are the chances I would actually catch a fish?

We affixed a lure....and my Barbie Doll fishing pole is ready for takeoff. My first cast went pretty well....and I reeled in a bunch of sea grasses. Something went wrong during my second cast....and the line wadded and twisted into a huge gnarly mess. It took over an hour to free the reel from the wad of fishing line....and save my lure. Still, it wasn't looking good. No matter what I did....a wad of twisted line insisted on forming. Eventually discovered it wasn't necessary to cast the line as if I'm trying to whallop a tennis ball. Much less energy is required. Plus, by keeping your thumb on the line at all times, the line stops wadding up.

Cast after cast was working well. "Whhiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrr.....click" Love that sound from the reel - as the line casts over the water. By now, I no longer hooked our rigging, or my clothing. Yet, Paddy and Soxy play it safe - and watch from inside the salon.

I am very happy casting with my pink BB Doll....and catching sea grasses. But, there is more action underneath the surface. Suddenly, my BB Doll pole bent and came alive. Not a lot of bend mind you.... But, there is a fight going on....not a lot, mind you... but there is a tug of war....and Barbie Doll is awash in excitement. I hoist my first fish as it twists and flips wildly. "Paddy....I caught a fish....come and see....what do I do now?"

We decide it's a small barracuda. "I don't know...it's your fish"...Paddy responds. "Well....I'm not going to touch it....can't you help me?" I beg. "No."

I stand on the bow of Cat Maudy....trying to decide my next move. Maybe he'll fall off the hook and go back to swimming with his friends... Or maybe he'll die while I have him dangling in the air just a few feet away from Cat Maudy. Soxy our cat can eat him for breakfast. Gross.

The little 'cuda looks thirsty....so I let out the line and plunk him back in the water for a drink. "You're torturing him"...Paddy yells to me. Aii....neither of us want to touch the little beast. I hadn't planned on catching anything quite so soon. Finally, Paddy relents...and unhooks the 'cuda from the lure...and sets him free.

Looks like I have to work up to fishing....the fish handling part. I put away BB Doll temporarily....until I get some gloves. Pink gloves of course.

A week on the BB

2010-03-06T10:18:00.023-05:00

Biscayne Bay (BB)

I often wonder if the "roaring 40's" -- a latitude of 40-50 degrees with huge winds in the Southern Ocean -- have migrated north. To Miami. There is no shortage of wind in northern Biscayne Bay. We spent two days peering at the wind gauge - and monitored steady 35 knots (40MPH), and gusts to 40+ knots. The water shuttle service shuts down when the winds blow over 30 knots. Unable to get to shore, this gives us plenty of time to:

* catch up on computer work projects
* eat foods we would normally leave untouched in the pantry

* fix the port engine...that wasn't previously broken....until Paddy decided to fix it
* fix the dingy engine. this one is definitely broken.

* see our first manatee (which looks like a floating sand dune)
* watch boaters make dramatic arrivals in high winds into the mooring field or nearby anchorage

Attempting to grab a mooring (or anchor) in super high winds, is a bit of a challenge. A motor yacht circles 20 or more mooring balls before he decides to "go for one". As he approaches the mooring ball...his first mate reaches out with their ONE AND ONLY boat hook to grab the mooring line....only to get the hook caught in the line. The boat hook is ripped out of her hands...and sinks.

VHF channel 68 is a buzz, with neighboring boaters offering up a boat hook for this new arrival to borrow. The captain has enough trouble getting close to the mooring ball. He decides NOT to get close to another vessel to borrow a boat hook. Again and again, the motor yacht makes his approach....and each time, a mega gust of wind blows him further away. His first mate is trying to catch the line with her hands - since their one and only boat hook has sunk. It's not looking good. I'm busy providing telepathic support. "C'mon, you can do it....grab that mooring ball....c'mon c'mon c'mon" As I scan the mooring field with my binoculars - other boaters appear to be offering telepathic support as well. We all have our binoculars on this drama. After an hour of missing the mooring ball, finally, the wind cooperates for a split second -- allowing the Captain to get close. The first mate grabs the mooring line and holds on tight. I'm exhausted just watching them.

But wait...there's more. A big monohull has decided to take a shortcut across the anchorage. It's either low tide, or the captain forgot to check his charts. The anchorage can be very shallow - and sure enough, his keel hit bottom. Hard. He's now heeled over. Waaay over. Nearly on his side. All in heavy winds. TowBoat US to the rescue. Three hours later, with two tow boats on the scene...he is towed to a mooring ball. We assume he damaged his prop - since he could no longer operate under power.

Just behind the mooring field, is an anchorage with 20-30 boats that have seen "better days". Despite how hard and long the wind blows, the boats at the anchorage never seem to "drag anchor". They hold their position, as if they are permanently moored. Um....that's because they ARE!

Our friends Karen & Larry arrived on Chateau sur la Mer. The winds are gusty. As Captain Larry searched for good spot to anchor, the winds had other plans. Before he knew it, his prop got entangled in an anchored boat's line. Chateau is down an engine...and has become "one" with the anchored boat. Within minutes, dinghies and captains from other boats arrive on the scene - including Captain Paddy on our dinghy with the broken engine. Our dinghy engine dies out every 20 seconds. This should be helpful.

Chateau didn't just choose any ol' boat in the anchorage to bond with. It's owner is not aboard. This particular boat has a spider web of 5-10 anchors out. No wonder these anchored boats don't drag anchor. If one anchor loses grip....there are a half dozen more anchors to keep on holding.

It's heartwarming to see so many boaters offering to assist - at their own personal risk. But, too many "captains" is not necessarily a good thing. I'm not sure who is running the "show", but from a distance, it looks like chaos. Captain Larry slips into a wetsuit....and dives under Chateau to assess the situation. No one seems to be watching the diver. Except me....on binoculars. This is now my job - and I don't take my eyes off of him. Larry dives....and dives...and dives...to no avail. The line is wrapped too tight around his prop. It needs to get cut free. The water is cold...and Larry hops back aboard.

Captain Juan - on one of the dinghies....is poised and ready. He takes over the diving...and after 30 or so dives...comes to the same conclusion. The anchor line needs to get cut free. The owner is reached via cell phone. He insists that another anchor gets added to his spider web of existing 5-10 anchors. Captain Larry and his team of dinghy captains obliges. The troublesome anchor line is cut....a new anchor is dropped...and Chateau limps away from the monohull and its spider web of anchors.

Dragging anchor....

2010-02-27T18:15:00.014-05:00

After studying the weather for hours, we came to the conclusion that it was anybody's guess. All week, the forecast for each day couldn't be further from accurate. We assumed when the forecast called for light air....then it would probably be a nice windy day to sail to Key Largo. Key Largo is 35 miles from Dinner Key Marina - an easy sail down Biscayne Bay - to Angel Fish Creek....and then out to Hawks Channel on the "outside".

Naturally, the forecast is right-on for the day we choose to sail. Light air it is. Very light. You could say no wind. There was no wake behind Cat Maudy as she did her best to cruise at 2 knots. All of the other sailboats passed us. That's because they had their motor running. Not Cat Maudy. She is bound and determined to sail without the sounds of her engines.

At this speed, it took the bulk of the day to sail 17 miles, far short of our destination at Key Largo. But all was not lost. Our mooring neighbor Tom had invited us to join him for a sailing / fishing excursion at Sands Key. Sands Key is halfway between Dinner Key and Key Largo -- and Cat Maudy wasn't going any further under sail. We navigated around the shoal, and entered into some very shallow waters - until we reached the anchorage. I dropped the anchor and let out 40' of chain rode. All the while, in awe that not only could I see the anchor, but all 40' of chain just laying on the bottom of the bay. Back at our home port in Baltimore - there is no visibility (thanks to pollution and muck)...so it is pretty spectacular being in clear water.

I could have easily just stared at the anchor and chain on the floor of the BB, but Paddy was fussing that we needed to secure the "bridle". The bridle is used to take the stress off of the chain - and distribute the load between the hulls. Paddy and I spent the next 30 minutes trying to figure out how to untangle the bridle...and connect it to the anchor. It appears we have forgotten how to anchor. One too many days at a mooring ball.

The evening was quiet, with barely a ripple on the Bay. We would plan to rendezvous with Captain Tom the next morning- to learn the many tricks he had up his sleeve on catching fish. In the meantime, we relaxed in the solitude of the Sands Key anchorage with 5-6 other anchored boats.

The weather for our fishing adventure was expected to become volatile. Early AM would be calm...but by mid-day, gale force winds would roar from the southwest....later turning to the west...and then becoming northwest. Part of this forecast would prove to be correct.

As the winds kicked up by 9AM....two of our boat neighbors dragged anchor. We double checked our anchor and it seemed secure. I gloated. Remind me never to gloat. "Yeah...we have a kick ass anchor...we don't drag"....that kind of gloat. Tom's boat had dragged 200 yards away from us toward the shoal. A Beneteau had dragged anchor and landed on the shoal. Tom was on rescue mode in his dinghy - and he pulled the monohull off of the shoal into deeper waters. By the time we arrived in our dinghy to assist -- both boats were secured.

Time to go fishing! Well, we watched Tom as he fished. I wasn't going to embarrass myself with my special trolling rod. Tom uses a "casting rod". Someday I'll get one of those. Paddy and I rowed our dingy toward's Tom. We tried to be very "quiet" (i.e. no engine)....as we closed in on Tom's fishing hole. The winds were getting fiesty, so Paddy and I had to apply some muscle into rowing. All of a sudden...my oar broke in half! For a moment, I wanted to believe that I may have to tone down my upper bod workouts? But no, that wasn't it. The oar had rotted out.

With 1 and 1/2 oars, we made it to Tom's location, and tied our dinghies together. We drifted into the mangroves. I was ready to film the entire adventure...from Tom catching a monster barracuda...to the blood letting. But, the fish were not interested in any lure that Tom tossed at them.

By now, the winds had kicked up to that magic velocity that results in you getting soaked in the dinghy. We tried to stay close to shore....until the last moment and then make a beeline for Cat Maudy - but it didn't matter. We were already drenched, and the waves were getting bigger. We hopped onto Cat Maudy...just in time. The winds are starting to howl.

Cat Maudy is making an unusual groaning noise. It was hard to hear above the howling wind...but there was no mistaking the groan. "We're dragging anchor!"...Paddy yells... I go forward to check it out. Yup...there is a huge "drag line" mark made on the bottom of the Bay (since you can see everything!). We are dragging. OK...I promise never to gloat about our kick ass anchor again.

Maybe we should find an anchorage with better protection from wind? Then again, protected anchorages don't exist on Biscayne Bay. Especially when the wind is clocking nearly full circle at gale force. We consider a sail back to Dinner Key. Gale force southerlies...we should be back to the mooring field no time. We decide to do "something" other than dragging anchor at this unprotected anchorage...

Time to pull up the anchor. I admit, it is far easier to pull up anchor in light air...than heavy. There is soooo much pressure on the chain...We had to be careful not to overly stress the windlass. With Paddy navigating, and me providing useless information about where I thought the anchor was in relation to the front of the boat....we somehow managed to raise the anchor without destroying any electronics.

Now...we are heading directly INTO the gale force winds from the southwest...and slowly departing Sands Key. We are making a whopping 3 knots of way with the force of the wind on our nose.

I whip out the binoculars. "Paddy, do you think it's a problem that we can no longer see the Miami skyline, or Key Biscayne?" Very dark clouds had now moved in. I'm guessing heavy rains to our north have limited the visibility to normally pronounced skylines. But which way is the storm moving? If the storms are moving north (and away from us), then we will miss the storms. If the storms are moving south, then we will be sitting ducks in a narrow channel on the wide open Biscayne Bay when they hit.

Aiii. Cat Maudy reverses course...I guess we'll go back to the unprotected anchorage -and try to set the anchor before the massive storms move in. We return to Sands Key...and this time, we put out 80' of chain rode. Double our previous length. We connect the bridle in 2 minutes. It seem our "anchoring" skills have returned. Nothing quite like a bit of stress to put your skills into high gear.

Next, we race to lash down the sail - and tie up any loose ends. The sky is becoming black...and the wispy low lying clouds are getting closer. Paddy uses our nav software to draw a "gps circle" around our boat. This way, if we start dragging anchor again - all sorts of alerts and warnings will ring loudly.

The storms get close...we are already dragging anchor again. I'm in "beg mode" now. "C'mon Ms. Buegel german-made anchor...hang on to the sandy surface OK? Puullllesssseee...." And after dragging 10 feet...she held tight. Thirty minutes later....the winds subsided. A gigantic rainbow rose to the east, and a stunning bright red sun, set to the west. The storm was over.

Or, so we thought. By 8PM the winds were intensifying from the west, and by 9PM the winds howled so loud, you had to shout to be heard in the cockpit. Every weather forecast I checked on the computer, was not looking good. It seems like the weather folks got one right. It will blow into the 40 knot range tonight. We can only hope for the best, that our anchor holds. Paddy and I work out a "watch schedule". I have insomnia, so this concept is a bit silly. But, it is important to keep Paddy happy, so I go along with the schedule. By 2AM, Paddy takes a walk around the deck to check the bridle...and comes back with BIG eyes. "We've got a problem".

He and I put on our nifty strap-around-the-forehead-headlamps, and race to the port cleat. The wind hits us smack in the face, and I have to find something to grab onto - to avoid being blown off the boat. The temperatures are in the 40s and my butt is quivvering.

Holy moley. The bridle is holding on by a hair. It is nearly off the cleat. Paddy wants to fix it "properly" by starting up the motors....and inching forward until the pressure if off the bridle....and then I can re-wrap and secure the bridle back onto the cleat. I prefer the "we don't have time" for perfection solution. So, I suggest that we wrap another line through the loop in the bridle....and secure the second line to the cleat. There was no time to debate. We couldn't lose the bridle.... Within a minute, we had the 2nd line wrapped around the noose of the bridle, and the new line is "locked down".

With the winds intensifying, Paddy wants to prep the 2nd anchor. If the first anchor starts dragging in the middle of the night with these winds....we won't have much time to react. We dig out the second anchor, tie it onto a massively huge line....secure it to the boat...and plunk her in the water. We return to the salon and hope for the best. Paddy suggests I get some sleep. Yeah right. I listen to the howling winds for the next 8 hours, and re-check our "position" every 15 minutes.... I don't need any electronics or weather predictions to tell me how much the wind is blowing. I know the wind intensity by feel and sound. By 11AM Sunday....the winds subside. With 2 anchors down, Cat Maudy held her position. Whew.

Fishing....the real deal.

2010-02-24T15:27:00.020-05:00

Our Dinner Key mooring ball neighbor Tom stopped by today on his dinghy. Earlier in the week, Tom had shared his 'fresh catch' with us - a bag filled with raw fish fillets. I cooked it with a lemon herb rub, and we had it for breakfast. Hard to believe this is "fish". Hands down it's the most delicious meat I have ever tasted. It had no fishy smell, no fishy taste, firm, white dense meat - and Tom had done a fab job removing all the bones. We made quick work of polishing off this tasty treat. Any disappointment with my sport fishing debut (using a trolling rod) at Boca Chita Key was becoming a distant memory.

"Tom - that fish you gave us was the best fish we've ever tasted....what kind of fish was it?" I inquired as Tom pulled up his dinghy next to Cat Maudy. "Baby barracuda...before they become big and poisonous. I catch them when they are less than 4 feet..." Tom explains. I did my darnedest to get past the part where the fish might be poisonous. Time for a quick body scan. Nope, no numbness has set into the limbs...the heart seems to be pumping...and forgetfulness is alive and well. We continue to listen on to Tom's fishing story.

WARNING: The story you are about to read is gruesome. Unless you are a fisherman.

OK...If you must continue reading....then allow me to paraphrase...

After Paddy and I departed from Boca Chita Key, Tom went out on his dinghy with a real fishing pole (i.e. a "casting rod"). After experimenting with 10 lures - he found one the fish liked. He played a cat-n-mouse game with the fish. If the lure just moved along at a steady pace - the underwater world ignored it. Instead, he's got the lure hoppin, skippin and jumpin - above and thru the water....and BAM...a barracuda strikes. It's just the right size barracuda per Tom's magic eye measuring stick. Tom gaffs the 'cuda - so that he can bring it into the dinghy. Once the gaffed 'cuda is on board....Tom opens up his 5 gallon bucket partially filled with water.....and then slits the throat of the 'cuda....stuffs him in the bucket...puts the lid on, so the beast can bleed to death while he is flailing about. This way, all of the blood bleeds out of the fish while he is alive or nearly dead....and then there is less chance for poison stuff from the blood to mix in with the fillet. Or some reasoning like that. When Tom returns to shore...the fish is fully "drained"....and ready to be sliced and diced for the frying pan. I didn't ask what happened to the bucket of bloody water.

Eeeeewwwwww. Is this what fishing is about? This does not sound appealing. Tom is almost as excited about fishing, as he is sailing. He and Paddy are discussing future sailing plans on Biscayne Bay - to even better fishing territory. Tom wants to show us the best fishing on the BB - somewhere in the mangroves. I'm already feeling queasy. Maybe I'll just stick with my trolling rod....with over sized hooks...and no bait. We can watch Tom fish, and let him do the bloody execution ritual. I'll be happy to just cook any extras he can't use.

South Beach....

2010-02-20T08:36:00.003-05:00

No visit to Miami would be complete without spending a few hours in South Beach. Paddy left me in charge with figuring out the transportation route and scheduling. "Great - let's ride our bikes 30 miles to South Beach and back." I suggested. Paddy gives me a blank-look "what are you out of your mind?" stare. This means NO. So, I revise the travels to include a combination of water taxi, bicycle ride, metro rail, metromover...and bus.

Fortunately, the Miami public transportation website includes a color coded map....and I zoom in at 500% for the severely vision impaired. I do my best to follow the squiggly lines with a paperclip pointer on my screen, to no avail. Maybe you can figure out where to take a bus to South Beach using this map? I have a theory on how this map was created....

It's career day "at the office". This is the day where mom or dad brings in one of their kids to expose them to their job and office buddies. The guy in charge of Miami public transportation brings in Suzie, his 4 year old daughter with her box of 64 bright colored crayons. She is busy making daddy a picture...when daddy's boss shows up to pick up the latest map showing bus and metro rail routes. He picks up little Suzie's drawing by mistake, and publishes this to the Miami Dade website. No one notices the difference.

I did my best to figure out Suzie's map....and concluded (incorrectly) that we needed to ride the rail to the Civic Center stop. From here, we could catch the "M" bus to South Beach. This would turn out to be the "scenic" route. Paddy is decked out in his finest fashions with a bright orange T-shirt (now there's a first) and orange checkered shorts. As we waited in the not-so-nice section of the Civic Center for 45 minutes for the next "M" bus - this gave us plenty of time to spend with the panhandlers. With Paddy's colorful outfit screaming "TOURIST" - we had no shortage of panhandling friends. Finally, the "M" bus arrives....and we are none to happy to hop aboard.

It "feels" like the "M" bus is headed in the wrong direction. Paddy whips out his James Bond phone with the GPS locator...and sure enough - we are not traveling toward South Beach. Paddy and I try to hush-hush our concern...but basically everyone on the bus knows we are lost tourists - and they either stare at us...or offer help by repeatedly pointing in multiple directions. It was a miracle, that the bus finally turned to cross the "causeway"....and head toward South Beach We're back on course.

We don't know exactly "where" to get off the bus. Paddy spots a restaurant called "Big Pink". This seems close enough. We jumped off the bus...and made a beeline toward the beach. I suddenly feel (a) OLD and (b) OVERDRESSED. I'll feel better once we find FOOD. We leave the beachfront...and return to Ocean Drive. 5 blocks later, we are at the "Strip"....and Paddy's orange fashion choice fit right in.

The "Strip" in South Beach is filled with tourists from every country....overdressed (like moi)...to scantily dressed, and cars ranging from Ferrari's to vintage Buicks. Every maître d’ wants you to dine at their restaurant, and the size of the drink seems to be a big attraction. Across the street you will find inline skating has not lost it's thrill. Just beyond the over sized walkway, are a series of beach volleyball courts. You have to have some pretty decent volleyball skills to play here. Spectators gathered to watch 6 guys (aka Team Speedo) convert volleyball in to a mix of soccer and dodge ball....and a few courts away...4 ladies playing what appeared to be professional beach volleyball. They never missed!

Despite dozens of restaurants featuring fresh seafood and beautiful salads....we opted for cheap burgers and fries...at Johnny Rockets. Yum. And, no lectures about my diet choice OK? We spent the next hour getting our groove on at South Beach. People watching. My favorite moment? An old man, in his mid 80's sits in a wheelchair. He can barely hold his head up. His wheelchair is parked along a busy sidewalk. He's no dummy. He picked this location for a reason. 10 feet away, a vibrant young lady, barely dressed in a red bikini 3 sizes too small...pole dances. Rock on old man. Get what you can. I doubt this therapy is covered under Medicare.

Sport fishing debut...

2010-02-17T16:13:00.010-05:00

If paradise resembles anything like Gilligan's Island, I'm pretty sure we found it. Boca Chita Key is just 15 miles south of downtown Miami. It is also part of the northern Florida Keys -- a 180 mile expanse of submerged coral reefs and islands. If you want to drive your car thru the Keys, you'll start at Key Largo...and end up in Key West. I'm guessing you find stores, tiki-huts and peeps. To visit the northern keys - you'll need a boat. No stores...no peeps...no Hollywood entertainment...no Starbucks....just pristine waters, remote sandy beaches, friendly boaters who look out for each other. And....some amazing fishing. So I'm told.

With winds blowing from the North (I don't think winter is planning to quit until June!) - we quickly cruised down Biscayne Bay...past Key Biscayne, Stiltsville...to our destination at the harbor of Boca Chita Key. The waters are a beautiful turquoise blue....clear and shallow. You can easily see bottom. It's a bit nerve wracking navigating through the shallow channel, thinking that you would hit bottom at any time.

We tied up Cat Maudy along the sea wall, and spent the next hour just staring at the views from our boat. To the west, is Biscayne Bay - and in the distant horizon is mainland Florida. A forest fire is raging right next to Florida's nuclear power plant. Ok, maybe this view wasn't so pleasant. I trust the Florida forest rangers will get that burning mess under control, before it reaches the nuclear reactor. Looking north, is a lighthouse marking the entrance to Boca Chita Key, and behind it, is a faintly visible Miami skyline. To the east....are palm trees, white sandy beaches....and every shade of blue water you can imagine. There is no surf from the Atlantic side of the island. Any wave action is broken up by the miles of coral reef.

Paddy and I ventured on a walk around the island. The walk should take all of 10 minutes- but we had our cameras. This means, our walk will take the remainder of the day. At least, until we use up all of the storage space in our digital cameras. There are so many beautiful scenes here -- that just when you think you have discovered the most picturesque....a view even more magical stares you straight in the eyes.

Between Boca Chita Key...and it's neighboring island to the north, the current rips during flood or ebb tides. According to fellow boaters - the channel of water that moves with the most velocity - is where you can find the best fishing. That's all I needed to hear. I have visions of catching fish for dinner.

With my Florida fishing license, a fishing pole, some smelly chicken from the back of the fridge, a hook large enough to catch a killer whale, and my bicycle gloves - I was ready to make the big catch. OK. I don't really have the "correct" gear -- but it's amazing how versatile bicycle gloves can be.

I armed my 3 pronged mega hook with 3 stinky pieces of chicken, and tried hard to remember the days when I was 10 years old and fishing with my dad. I think dad always baited the hook for me, but I can't be sure. These hooks are pretty sharp, and I don't think that bicycle gloves with missing fingertips is such a good idea. But it will have to do. I stepped into the water...and for 10 seconds stopped breathing. My feet went numb. This water is FREEZING!!! I needed to catch a fish...fast! I made my way to the sandbar, just shy of the strong currents, with numbness now reaching my knees. From here, I can cast the three pronged hook into the rippling current - and hope that a big fish was hungry for aged chicken.

"Back up Paddy", I yelled to Pat who was standing on shore. I prepare my windup, whip back the rod....fling the line forward....and watched the hook drop 3 feet in front of me. "I think this pole is defective" - I yelled back to Pat. "Jane, I've been trying to tell you, this is a TROLLING rod...not a casting rod.". Hard to imaging that someone would design a fishing rod where you couldn't cast out the line. I had to keep trying. A few more casts....with my trolling rod....losing more chicken bait on each fling....I had to agree. There is no casting with this rod.

As I trudged back to shore, with lower extremities turning blue, there was not a stitch of bait left on my triple hook. What's up with a fishing pole that isn't meant for casting? No question, I was disappointed that my trolling rod can't cast.

In the meantime -- Paddy was busy saving my sport fishing debut. Along the sandy beach, mixed in among the thousands of seashells...Paddy discovered Freddy....the fossilized fish. Freddy has human looking teeth....and a bony bod that was as hard as rock, and has probably been dead for years. Thanks Paddy! Fossilized Freddy the Fish....will serve as my photo-op catch of the day. Not quite as exciting as a fish struggling to get unhooked from your line, and the thrill of reeling it in...but Fossil Freddy will do in a pinch. I returned Freddy back to the seashell covered beach....and began scheming plans to troll off Cat Maudy - using my TROLLING rod. Who knew such details?

Camping out at the Culinary Tent....at the Coconut Grove Arts Festival

2010-02-15T18:48:00.009-05:00

After staring at our computers, and each other for most of the morning - it was time to tackle a large dose of humanity - at the 47th annual Coconut Grove Arts Festival (CGAF). With the winds gusting to 30knots from the southwest - a soggy dinghy ride with 3 foot waves was out of the question. We will wait for the once per hour, water taxi shuttle to shore.

The water taxi rides are a perfect way to get the lowdown on weather windows, cruiser stories, and seeing who clocked the most winds in the near hurricane that ripped through the marina the night before. I had clocked just over 60MPH....but two sets of cruisers insisted that another burst of wind ripped through the marina hours later at over 70MPH. With each cruiser we spoke with....the windspeed increased by 5-10MPH. Pretty soon, someone will have recorded a Cat 5 hurricane. Cruisers...have a lot in common with fishermen.

Our marina is located at the heart of the Coconut Grove Arts festival. The roads to and from the Dinner Key Marina are barricaded -- funneling all human traffic into a ticket booth. It didn't matter if you had no intention of visiting the Festival....if you wanted to cross the street to get to the other side...you must pay the admission. In the spirit of supporting starving artists....we paid for two tickets....and gingerly stepped into a gulf stream of humans.

As we lost all comfort of personal space....Paddy and I plodded with the herd of peeps. Walking is out the question. We stopped when the peeps stopped....waited for them to adjust their baby carriages....watch them become confused.....or suddenly change direction when a peep realized their significant other (whom they were having a conversation), was a stranger. It was easy to get separated and lost - and there is no chance of hearing a cell phone ring with the drone of 150,000 humans. Paddy and I tried drafting...where I lead and he follows only inches behind me....keeping a precise cadence with my footsteps. This works well for inline skating...not so well at the arts festival. Too many peeps....and I thought for a moment that I was holding someone elses hand. Fortunately, Paddy's fashion choice from his wardrobe of 30+ BRIGHT ORANGE Orioles shirts (courtesy of one too many free-t-shirt nights at Camden Yards with my brother)...came in handy. today.

After walking past a mere 15 artist booths (out of many hundreds!)...it was time to locate FOOD. There were dozens and dozens of food tents specializing in Pizza, Greek, Chinese, American, Cuban....and on and on. With so many food choices, Paddy and I opted for the tent with the shortest line....and shared an overpriced Cuban sandwich. We skipped the $4 soda. We've morphed into cruiser mentality.....which is somewhere between cheapskate and freeloader.

Our next stop - is the Culinary Tent. Every hour, a distinguished chef prepares some delicacy...tells you all the details how the food is prepared.....and then a group of lovely ladies walk around and serve you samples. We found 2 chairs....and parked our butts for what could become the remainder of the day. Oh sure, there are some terrific artists from all over the world just a few steps away....and OK...maybe we've only seen 15 or so.....but in the Culinary Tent - we're talking free food.

You know that feeling you get when suddenly you are in the right place at the right time? You couldn't have planned it had you tried....but when you stumble upon it -- you practically want to go play the lottery -- or at least brag to your best friend?

Try to contain yourself, when I tell you --- that within minutes...Jeff Lindsay - the writer behind Showtime's series DEXTER (the friendly serial killer - who only kills the bad guys making it all OK...OK?)....was featuring Blood Oranges, some fennel thing and how to use knives. I can feel your envy, so try to settle it down. YES YES YES....we are BIG FANS of the series Dexter. Don't ask how we watch this without TV on our boat. All right, you can ask. We download it from the Internet for FREE. What else would you expect from a cruiser?

Jeff reveals during his cooking presentation:

- his inspiration for the character "Dexter" came when he was speaking at a Kiwanis Club luncheon...looking out at the real estate brokers, insurance agents....and bankers....and thought that serial killing may not be such a "bad thing"

- it took Jeff 5 years to get his book published...after being turned down dozens of time, and being married to a Hemingway!

- he writes every day from 3:30am - 6:30am....and that's it. 5-6 pages per day

- you can spend 3 hours a day writing...and get 5-6 pages...or spend 10 hours a day...and get 5-6 pages. When you've squeezed all of the juice out of the orange....you're done. Don't waste more time trying to squeeze juice from a dried up orange.

Sitting in the Culinary Tent, eating FREE FOOD...and listening to the writer who "created" Dexter - was turning out to be a bonanza of a day. Paddy and I returned to the boat...with bellies full of food from the Culinary tent, and having visited the least number of artist's booths...

Gale rips into the 'BIS

2010-02-12T16:50:00.024-05:00

70 MPH of wind is a TAD above GALE Yet, the weather forecast images took on a rainbow of colors, and a range of numbers we had not seen before from our unprotected anchorage on Biscayne Bay.

Surely the "70" listed on Weather.com website was a typo. Just to be safe, we removed anything from deck that could go flying, and secured 3 heavy duty lines to the mooring ball. And waited....

The skies darkened....and the distant horizon lit up with spectacular lightening. Suddenly the eerie sounds of 60+ MPH winds rip thru Coconut Grove FL while we sit helpless on Cat Maudy attached to a mooring ball. I stopped looking at the wind speed when it hit 54 knots. Within seconds - we had zero visibility, and the wind howled louder than an oncoming train. You could not see your adjacent boating neighbors - 50 yards away. All we can do is "hope" that our ropes hold tight to the mooring ball.

It's pretty scary being out in the belly of Biscayne Bay twirling around your mooring ball (anchor) - with winds so loud you can't hear your own voice. Do not know what we would have done if our boat broke free. There are lots of boat anchored…and no visibility… Best not to think about that.

In 15 harrowing minutes...the massive storm front had moved eastward toward the Bahamas...and the rest of the evening would shake the boat with gusts of 35 knot winds from the west. With firsthand knowledge of 60MPH of winds, any silly notion about relocating Cat Maudy south, during hurricane season - is no longer on the table. Watch this video -- just moments before 60MPH...(and after). OK OK...when the winds hit 60MPH...I hid in the hull!

U only live once....

2010-02-04T11:13:00.000-05:00

La la la...it's Thursday at 8AM....

I check my voice messages...there is one from my tennis friend Joan....

"Hey Jane - do you want to play in a Cat II National Championships 45 & Over doubles tournament in Ft. Lauderdale? A player had to default...and you can substitute in. Your match will be at 3PM today...call if you can make it."

I should have said NO:
1. I haven't played competitively in 5 years

2. I've barely picked up a racket in 5 years

3. I live on a boat

4. I don't know where my tennis sneakers are

5. My USTA membership has expired

6. I don't have any tennis "clothes"

...and then my inner, more irrational voice took over:
What the hey? We planned to rent a car and be in Ft. Lauderdale anyway to pick up boat parts....so why not play a tennis match while I'm there? I put together a combination of inline skate race clothing & a running skirt....this will have to "do" for tennis attire. I also packed my swimsuit and goggles. you never know when there will be a swim opportunity!!

Paddy and I hopped in the dinghy to make our way to shore....when Paddy reminded me I needed tennis rackets. Oh yeah. Minor detail. I returned to the boat....found 'em hiding in the bilge. Armed with tennis rackets and an outfit that didn't match, our dinghy surfed it's way to shore with 20 knot winds and following seas.

Despite a shortage of rental cars due to "Superbowl weekend" in Miami...we managed to get a rental....and rushed to Sunrise FL to pick up boat parts, and consume some amazing Peruvian food for lunch. Next stop...The Tennis Club of Ft. Lauderdale.

Moments before our match was called to court, I met my doubles partner - Tanya. "Hi Tanya...I'm Jane. I just got off my boat...and haven't played competitive tennis in years. You're cool with that, right?"

Without a doubt - my game was quite rusty....both physically and mentally. For example, when my partner Tanya was serving - she requested that we play "Australian". Hmmmm...I remember that concept vaguely. I had to ask Tanya to be more "specific" (i.e. 'splain Lucy!!!).

Tanya played beautifully, and our main draw opponents were quite good. They handed us a good can of whoop ass. My debut back to the tennis scene was quick and painful. Yet I was sure, that if we could have played 30 sets or more....we eventually would have taken one! But alas, these tournaments are limited to 2 out of 3 sets - and we didn't stand a chance. ...moving on to event #2... Swimming laps in the pool. And...tennis was quickly forgotten.... at least until the consolation rounds get started. Stay tuned....

StiltsVille erodes away...

2010-02-03T18:02:00.040-05:00

Our mooring neighbor Captain Tom Mestrits at Dinner Key Marina, invited us for a sailing tour of upper Biscayne Bay along Key Biscayne on his John Shuttleworth 40' catamaran.

It was an opportunity we couldn't pass up. Tom has "local" knowledge of Biscayne Bay, and has modified / fine tuned his cat for racing (with numerous trophies to show for it). We were anxious to see how a "Cat Maudy" sista-ship sailed in comparison.

The most noticeable difference between CM and the sista-ship...is the ease of tacking using a self-tacking jib. It was glorious. In non-sailing terminology - this means that you can change direction on the cat without having to lose speed, skip the part where you yank the sail as fast as possible so that it is taught...no need to crank the winch til your shoulders ache to tighten up the bugger....or beg the Captain to avoid making turns cuz it's soooo dang tiring. hmmmm....if we could only make Cat Maudy tack with less effort??...

With 15 knot winds from the north, Captain Tom sailed us into the channel near StiltsVille. Years back, a bunch of folks decided to live "off the grid" - and built their homes on STILTS....on top of the coral reef along the northern tip of Key Biscayne. During Hurricane Andrew...mother nature decided to take over - and eliminated all but approximately 10 of these homes. Shortly after the homes were destroyed, the state of Florida decided that StiltsVille wasn't a good idea after all....evicted the remaining residents...and prohibited any rebuilding. What's left, is a bunch of boarded up homes on stilts...slowly eroding away - in what appears to be the middle of Biscayne Bay.

We rounded the northern tip of Key Biscayne, got a glimpse of No Name Harbor and mega-homes built by people with no shortage of mooolah....and eventually returned just south of downtown Miami - to Coconut Grove. All the while...being "chased" by sailors who recognized Captain Tom's catamaran....and were hoping for an impromptu race.

Little Havana....gone Americana

2010-01-30T06:40:00.003-05:00

After researching Bayside in downtown Miami - we decided that the marketplace was far too tourista for our tastes, with strip and shopping malls identical to those found anywhere in the US. Restaurants such as Hard Rock Cafe, Bubba Gump and block after block of Starbucks was not the experience we were craving. We can see corporate conglomerate America anywhere. Instead, we wanted to see culture, something unique....we wanted to experience Cuban Miami. We wanted to see and smell the cigar factories, the cuban food, the lifestyle. I wanted to be immersed in Spanish....no English. Bayside - would not do. It is modeled after American culture. We had to visit Little Havana - the authentic Cuban neighborhood in Miami Florida.

What better way to experience Little Havana - than to ride our bicycles to this slice of Cuban culture? It was time to brush up on my Spanish. Hola mi amigos! I had a few phrases memorized, and can distinguish between a dog (un perro) and a car (un carro), and can count from one (uno) to 10 (diez) in espanol. This will have to do for our adventure into Little Havana.

From our marina - the bicycle ride to Little Havana was less than 4 miles each way. We joined up with Catamaran travel mates senor Rick and seniorita Linda for a much anticipated cuban culinary experience. A "local" had recommended Versailles for the best Cuban food, and online reviews were favorable for La Carreta. Both restaurants are located in the same block on 8th Street at 37th Avenue. We could decide once we arrived.

We opted to eat at Versailles. The menu was in English. The food was good, but I had to wonder, with an english menu - was this really authentic Cuban food? The menu has been modified for the gringos....has the food been americanized as well?

Perhaps the scenes of electrified Cubans in the streets, cuban music everywhere and Cuban owned establishments from the days of Elian Gonzales were too vivid in my mind. As we rode our bicycles along block after block of pawn shops, car dealerships and convenience stores - the only difference was the writing on the billboards. Here, the words are in spanish. One car dealership was roasting a pig in the parking lot and blasting cuban music from a boombox. This may have to count as my most memorable cuban experience in Little Havana....gone Americana.

To experience Havana (La Habana), an adventure to Cuba may be required. hmmm....how to get there?

Dinghy adventures...in Biscayne Bay

2010-01-23T17:43:00.004-05:00

Living on a mooring ball, 1 mile from land out in Biscayne Bay requires some strategy and forward thinking when making trips to land. Like checking the weather. I live "in the moment". A newbie at living at anchor, and commuting to land.

So, as we rode the dinghy to shore early Saturday morning - for an all-day Endorphin Rendezvous with family in Boca Raton - weather and state of the seas later in the evening, did not enter into my brain. La la la la la, life is good, getting endorphins, hangin' with 'fam....la la la la la.

Some 12+ hours later, as we drove our itsy-bitsy compact rental car thru 2 thunderstorms, and crosswinds which caused lane changes without notice....I started to wonder what the "BB" (Biscayne Bay) might be like for our dinghy ride back to Cat Maudy.

Quik observation: The palm trees along the shoreline were bent over, and flags were flapping wildly. Yes, we have wind. A LOT of wind. Plus, it was a headwind. Waves will be crashing into us.

Anticipating a dunking, I bundled our laundry, and backpacks into plastic trash bags and tied them securely. We piled 3 huge plastic bags into the front of the dinghy.

As we rounded the barrier island (which protects the docked boats at the Dinner Key Marina) , we were met with a WALL of waves. Woa. Big ones when you are in a dinghy. It was dark. The winds were blowing 25 knots from the east. And, I sat, holding on to 3 bags of belongings, and holding up a mini flashlight as our Nav light.

As the waves came crashing over the dinghy, and hitting me in the face, the flashlight seemed no longer important. It was time to hold tight to the dinghy. Wave after wave crashed over the dinghy and into my face. I can assure you that the water IS very salty. I drank a lot of it. Captain Pat was driving, and groaning and moaning with each soaking. We were dripping wet, and I focused on anticipating the waves, and getting to Cat Maudy someway somehow.

Naturally, Cat Maudy is moored (anchored) furthest from shore. This helps ensure that the dinghy turned into a swimming pool, and we were completely drenched. Because the waves were so large, we had to go slow....

Finally, we made it to Cat Maudy....and dragged our water logged bodies on deck. And, sat for a moment, recovering, staring at the Miami skyline....and thinking. Next time....we'll check the weather...

The Perfect Sail...to Coconut Grove

2010-01-18T05:25:00.017-05:00

It's a rare moment when Captain Pat and I agree on sailing conditions. For example, 6' seas are a tad large to me, while Captain Pat doesn't bat an eye. Alternately, 10-15 knot winds is ideal for me, and generally not enough to move the boat for Captain Pat. We spend a LOT of energy negotiating and compromising. It's all good.

Within minutes after the hydraulic repairman evaluated our steering troubles (the RAM's are leaking again!)....we removed the dock lines, and departed the Las Olas Muncipal Marina in Ft. Lauderdale. After waiting for two drawbridges to open, we were in the main shipping channel, with what seemed to be hundreds of fishing boats. Destination....Miami - a short 20 mile ocean hop from Port Everglades.

Today's weather of sunny skies, temperatures in the 70's, a route less than 2 miles offshore, winds from the west at 10-15 knots, no rolling swells and at most 1 foot waves - were PERFECT sailing conditions....from both Captain Wuus (moi) and Captain Pat's vantage points. The water color is a stunning turquoise blue here - and it's easy to become mesmerized by the moment. Cat Maudy reacted with sailing speeds of 7-9 knots. In less than 2.5 hours - we were entering the channel at Port of Miami. (Want to see what the "Perfect Sail" looks like? Watch THIS VIDEO)

Looking back at a month of sailing, motoring, and waiting for weather in dreadfully frigid temperatures and sea state conditions more stressful than relaxing, the voyage south -- was all worth it today. We had finally made it, intact, to Miami. And, we had the Perfect Sail for the final hop along the east coast of the US mainland.

Once inside the Port of Miami, we followed the ICW channel markers south, along Biscayne Bay to the mooring field at Dinner Key Marina. Dinner Key is located in Coconut Grove FL - south of Miami. At a rate of approx $10 per day, Dinner Key seemed to be one of the best cruising deals along the east coast. This rate includes:

- unlimited water taxi

- a pump out boat that comes to you - in the mooring field!

- showers

- dingy dock/landing

...and close proximity to grocery, boater stores, shopping, restaurants, nite life...and opportunities to exercise. The people are genuinely friendly and delightful. Could this be paradise?

But wait. There ARE alligators (and crocodiles?) here. The marina folks have spotted them. hmmm. This will surely impact my kayaking workouts. There will be no carefree, aimless wandering, explore the bay, kayak rides. Rather, I will learn to "sprint kayak" thru the mooring field....and stay far from the grassy waters closer to shore.

One engine fails in the midst of strong currents and narrow waterways...

2010-01-13T13:37:00.009-05:00

Somewhere near the Hillsboro Inlet, we noticed our starboard engine shaking violently. Not a good time to be down an engine - when trying to navigate in narrow waterways, wait for drawbridges to open...and contend with strong tidal currents. We were down to one engine, and I had my finger on the VHF ready to hail Tow-Boat US.

As Captain Pat tinkered with the throttle, the engine and all other "boy stuff"....I contacted the Los Olas Municipal Marina - to see if we might be able to afford a slip - while we get the engine situation resolved. Rumor has it that Ft. Lauderdale is very expensive. Miraculously, their rates were reasonable...so I signed us up. Guess we won't be sailing to Miami today...time for boat repairs.

BUT WAIT, Captain Pat working some mechanical genius...got the engine fixed....and we are now back to TWO working engines. Should we continue on to Miami....or check out some Ft. Lauderdale. Opted to stay a night in Ft. Lauderdale.

Turned out to be a fabulous decision. Couldn't have picked a better location - if I knew what I was doing! With temperatures for the FIRST TIME since departure from Maryland in the 70's....we docked at Los Olas Municipal Marina....peeled off the winter jackets, 4 layers of clothing...and wool hats....and morphed into beach babe southerners.

The Los Olas Municipal Marina is located in a perfect setting from my vantage point. With jogging paths and bike lanes everywhere....and 2 blocks from the Swimming Hall of Fame....I could sense that endorphins would soon be running high!

We spent the next 5 days at dockside, soaking up the 70 degree temperatures, getting caught up on computer work and exercise ...and bicycling to the grocery and boat stores - some 5 miles inland.

Low tide, fixed bridges...and making way to Boca Raton

2010-01-12T13:19:00.004-05:00

What is boat life like? Pure luxury, champagne all around...and a life a leisure right?

I'll let you know when that happens. In the meantime....I use the binoculars and my zoom-in camera to check the bridge marker every 30 minutes starting at 8:30AM. We need the marker to read 65' or more (simply because we don't trust the measurements anymore!)... Once we get maximum clearance, we'll pull up anchor....and carefully make our way thru. The Lake Worth Inlet is on the other side of the bridge -- which allows us an EXIT to the ocean. The other option is to continue on the ICW....(since we don't have enuf time by now to make the next inlet before nightfall)....and anchor somewhere in Boca Raton.

On the INSIDE (the ICW) between Lake Worth and Ft. Lauderdale - we will have NO fixed bridges to contend with. However, we will have 23 "opening" (drawbridges)....which could mean significant wait time for them to open. Decisions...decisions....decisisons....

By 11:30AM, I could see that the bridge marker would give us maximum clearance for navigation. With what STILL appeared as minimal clearance....we barely made it under this final bridge. At least, we're done with fixed bridges on the ICW!

We opted to continue travel on the ICW....with the hopes that we could get close enough to Ft. Lauderdale -- for an ocean sail the next day - to Miami. Jello plan...subject to change!

As we approach the more affluent areas south of Lake Worth - notice that both the drawbridges and waterfront properties look like castles.

Basic math vs High Water?

2010-01-11T12:09:00.006-05:00

Irregardless of your views about global warming, I can assure you from a "water" or boating standpoint -- that either one of two items are happening along the ICW:

a) either the folks who design and construct the bridges can't do basic math or
b) the water levels are rising.

Let me 'splain. FIXED bridges...that span over the intra coastal waterway (ICW) are supposted be 65 feet in height -- as measured by MEAN HIGH TIDE. This means....on the average high tide....a boat with air draft of 63.5 feet (like ours)....should be able to get under the bridge without ripping off the mast. The math that I took back in high school....tells me I should have a 1.5 feet of clearance at the AVERAGE high tide.

But, something is VERY wrong here. On LOW tide....we find only 64 feet in bridge height -- which gives us that breathtaking, heart palpitating - 6 full inches of clearance. So, maybe you can help me understand....whats up with that? Are all of the architects and construction workers using a different math these days? Or....are the water levels getting higher and higher. You decide. The next time I think it's a good idea to travel along the ICW....please kick me.

We reach our final FIXED bridge to navigate under before nightfall. Unfortunately, the timing puts us at precisely high tide. Considering the lack of room our mast clears at LOW tide....we opt to anchor for the nite just north of this fixed bridge. Our next low daylight tide....is 11AM Tuesday. We drop anchor and collapse with exhaustion over the stress of these fixed bridges.

Captain Wuuuus attempts climbing the mast...

2010-01-09T11:43:00.003-05:00

With temperatures NOW in the upper 20's and low 30's...ocean coastal sailing in our open cockpit is downright unappealing. We decided to "drive the ditch" to the next inlet (Lake Worth) - and see if the weather might be any better. To do so, someone has to climb the mast - and bring down all of the goodies on top (tri-color light, anemometer, weather vane) - so that they don't collide with one of the 5 fixed bridges between Ft. Pierce and Lake Worth Florida.

It was time for me (aka Captain Wuuuus) to man up and give the mast climb a whirl. In 35 degree temps and 18 knot winds....I attempted my first mast climb. Locked in snug in our new bosun's chair and safety harness....Pat hoisted me upward. All is good at the first spreader (20 feet in the air)....but not so good at the second spreader (45 feet in the air). By now, my hands were frozen from grabbing the mast....the wind pushed me around....and Captain Wuuuus needed to return back to earth. Pronto. Maybe next time. For now, I handed the job over to the pro....Captain Pat...who made the climb...and descent without incident. Whew.

Bundled with many layers of clothes, we now wait for low tide in the AM....and depart Ft. Pierce.

Florida goes ARCTIC...Ms. Madone takes on the Park Police

2010-01-08T08:09:00.005-05:00

While waiting on the right weather window in Ft Pierce Florida - we took the opportunity get caught up on Cycon work, monitor every detail of the weather, and tour the local landmarks.

Local landmarks include:

- the Publix supermarket

- West Marine

- the marina laundromat

- Fort Pierce Inlet State Park

Which one of these sounds the most exciting? No, not the marina laundromat. Try the Fort Pierce Inlet State Park. They charge $2.00 for bicyclists to enter the park...which is a small price to pay considering my need for endorphins. Once inside the park, I revved up my bike cadence, got locked into a delightful spin....and noticed a cop tailing me through the park. Was I doing something wrong? I paid the $2 entry fee. Curiosity got the best of me. I had to stop and ask "why are you tailing me?".

What do you think the response was? Take this simple quiz:

a) I am biking too fast

b) I am biking too slow

c) They have never seen a bicyclist before

d) It is a slow day in the park...and not much else to do

If you guessed "D"....you would be correct! Glad I could provide entertainment to Ft. Pierce park police.

Back to monitoring the arctic weather in Florida...an excerpt below from the Weather Channel:

Across Florida, the weather was freakishly cold for a state that's a winter respite for so many. There were snow flurries spotted in several parts of the state, as far south as Naples on the gulf coast. In Miami, the temperature was forecast to drop just below freezing overnight and threatened to break the record for low temperatures in the city.

In perhaps a bit of an understatement, Melbourne-based National Weather Service forecaster Bob Wimmer said it was an "unusual weather event."

As the arctic cold began to ease in some parts of the nation, residents in northern Florida were under a hard freeze warning with temperatures expected to drop to 20 or below overnight.

In the Florida Keys, a tropical paradise where people usually pay attention to the heat index, a term more often reserved for Northerners was being used: wind chill. Gusts were predicted to make the air feel like the upper 20s.

Ice sailors...

2010-01-06T02:56:00.013-05:00

Apparently Canada is MAD at the US. I'm guessing it's something we said. All of the cold air that normally stays in Canada for the winter -- is now on permanent loan to Florida.

With no end in sight for the frigid temperatures in central and southern Florida - we decide to depart Cape Canaveral, and sail offshore for a day hop to Ft Pierce. By 6AM, the temperatures were 35 degrees. The winds were 15-20 knots from the northwest, putting the wind chills into the 20's. Nice.
These are temperatures you would expect off the coast of Alaska in the Bearing Sea. NOT Florida. Florida is "The sunshine state". The place where snowbirds descend in the winter to ESCAPE the cold. The place where your arthritis suddenly disappears. The place where you wear t-shirts and shorts year round. I should be SWEATING here... Still, we remain hopeful, that someday we'll experience heat.
The sea state turned out to be favorable for a day hop to Ft Pierce. Following seas, steady winds from the northwest...and some rollers. OK, the rolling swells were a bit large -- in the 4-6' range -- but not uncomfortable, as we stayed tight (within 3 miles) to the coastline.
Highlights of the voyage include:
- I've lost all feeling in my hands and toes
- our rudder worked today....no more traveling in circles!
- fastest speed of the day - 12 knots with a reefed main
- I saw frost in Paddy's beard
- we are now 60+ miles further south
- the temperatures are not any warmer in Ft Pierce
- snow is predicted in Orlando
- with 6 layers of clothing, I now resemble the Michelin man

Jetty Park

2010-01-04T07:51:00.005-05:00

All weather forecasts were predicting 4-6' waves out of Cape Canaveral. Seemed a bit large for my 'weenie sailor' comfort zone, so we opted to wait for calmer seas. In the meantime, I had to SEE what these 4-6' waves looked like...up close...in person.

Time for power walk to Jetty Park - located at the inlet to Cape Canaveral. Jetty Park is a delightful campground and beach walker paradise. The walk TO Jetty Park from Cape Marina is filled with Cruise line ports - with huge buildings and enormous parking lots. Not much of a visual, providing all the more inspiration to walk at a fast clip.

I imagined huge walls of water breaking over the jetty. Probably even bigger waves than were forecasted. Yeah right. The sea state was perfectly calm. Sure, the breeze was stiff...but hardly a wave rocking the fishing boats - close to shore. I realized that close to shore (for northwest winds) was the place to be. If 4-6' waves looks like this, then I'm ready to sail!

Titusville to Cape Canaveral FL

2010-01-03T11:43:00.000-05:00

As the citrus crops in Florida get a week of record freezing temperatures - we are, in the midst of central Florida, trying to go south...and stay warm. It is obvious at this point, that I packed the wrong set of clothing for this trip. It's also obvious, that this year -- south means Brazil. Florida is not south enough. T-shirts and shorts? Forget that. 4-6 layers of everything I own is now the norm.

With great pain, I unplug our 50 amp shore power at the Titusville Marina - and remove any last hope of heat for the next 3 hours. We can heat our salon only when at dock. Away from dock? It's all about consuming hot tea, hot soup, and trying not to think about the numbness in your toes.

Fortunately, the ICW trip from Titusville to Cape Canaveral FL is short. No fixed bridges to navigate under (whew!), and every bascule bridge opened for us as we approached. At one point, the seagulls mistook our boat for a fishing vessel - and chased us for hours. This was the highlight of the trip - for Soxy.

We plan to stay at Cape Marina in Cape Canaveral (and grab more heat) for the nite - and then depart offshore to Ft. Pierce the next day. Only 3 problems. The sea state was looking a bit feisty, the temperatures would be in the low 30's, and there was no marina availability in Ft Pierce. Apparently a sport fishermen tourney is happening -- and all dock spaces are taken. Thus, we would have to anchor in Ft. Pierce with no heat. Ugh. After analyzing weather, wind direction, wave height, off shore buoys, temperatures, for hours - we decided to procrastinate the final offshore decision until the next morning. Maybe things would change? Maybe it would warm up?

For now, we've reunited with Cat travel mates Rick & Linda (MakeItSo) in Cape Canaveral. Dinner plans were made for a nearby seafood restaurant called FishLips. A local Yachtie-Yachta friend of R&L (Maryanne) offered to drive. It appears that our most pressing dilemma, was to figure out how to fit 5 people in a mini-Cooper. It can be done!

Highlights of Titusville FL

2010-01-02T08:47:00.001-05:00

Should the NASA program at Cape Canaveral ever get scuttled, the town of Titusville FL would most likely disappear. Not that there is much town here to begin with!

Some elements of Titusville, have already moved on. The Post Office for example. Don't waste your time looking for a mailbox here. When the Post Office left Main St. Titusville one year ago, it appears that they grabbed all of the neighborhood mailboxes as well. Not one mailbox to be found here.

While searching for that elusive mailbox, we stumbled onto the the Space Walk Hall of Fame (housed in an ol' 7-11 style building). The Space Walk Hall of Fame is run by retired NASA employees, who want to ensure that the NASA history is preserved. They collect donated items from NASA employees (such as clothing and space suits), and even house the NASA command center from the 1960's (which was once destined for some NASA dumpster). We spent an hour learning NASA-speak....and felt thoroughly educated (for the day) from our delightful tour guides.

As we departed, and made a donation, the retired NASA folks volunteered to mail my letter for me. Who needs a mailbox? Love small towns!

ICW, Mosquito Lagoon to Titusville

2009-12-31T11:36:00.002-05:00

It's hard to describe the tranquility at Mosquito Lagoon. With winter temperatures in the 50's -- there were no mosquitoes here! This area is a vast body of shallow water, in between the barrier island and the mainland in central Florida. Utterly peaceful, quiet and undisturbed views abound.

There is no shortage of dolphins, pelicans - and an underwater world that I can only "guess" at beneath the surface. Manatees? We've seen plenty of signs about the manatees - but have yet to see any.

By 7:30AM, Cat Maudy & MakeItSo brought up anchors...and began travels south on the ICW. Today's destination would be Titusville FL (for us), and Cocoa Beach (for MakeItSo). If we weren't so stressed about the fixed bridges (3 in Cocoa Beach) - we would be joining our travel mates for New Year's Eve celebration in Cocoa. But alas, we would end 2009 at Titusville - and see what this town has to offer.

The marina staff located us on the "Party Dock" (the E Dock). Pilings are decorated in Christmas paper, and boats are glowing in Christmas lights. It appears that happy hour has already started (well before noon!) - and the folks are super friendly. I hope the party dock won't be too disappointed when I become drowsy around 8PM.

Pat and I immediately took off to explore the "town". Titusville is quaint, small - and offers a coffee and gourmet chocolate shop (which also serves lunch)-- so I can't imagine what else is necessary here? Lunch menu includes vegetarian foods. Life is VERY good.

Later that day - we ventured into the closest supermarket - called the "SAVE A-LOT". The prices are UNHEARD of. It's as if I hopped a ride to the past (30 years ago). Pasta....30 cents a box. Bread....89 cents. Cat food....cans the size for dogs...and 4 for a dollar. There will be much time spent at the SAVE A LOT as we provision up for the next 30 days!

Apparently the manatees hover in the marina where we are docked. Unfortunately, 2 days before our arrival...they left...and headed south. I think the manatees have the right idea. Temperatures in the next few days will be in the 30's at night. C'mon Florida -- give a girl a little heat OK?

Happy New Year!

ICW, bridge drama and the poo police

2009-12-30T10:25:00.003-05:00

I awoke to a brisk 48 degrees inside of Cat Maudy. Soxy was glued to me under the covers and it was obvious that we had not yet reached "the south".

Today would be a full day of motoring on the ICW, with many 65' fixed bridges to navigate under. Rumor has it, that the water levels are up. In addition, the state of Florida has "adjusted" some of the bridge water markers to reflect the low hanging LIGHT instead of the fixed bridge height. Thus, you wouldn't know if the marker was for the fixed bridge...or the low hanging light.

Cat Maudy needs 63'8" to navigate under the bridges and clear the mast. I dusted off my digital Stanley "measure stick" and began practicing to hit distances 60+ feet above me. We need an accurate read on the bridges to assess if there was sufficient height for clearance.

The first fixed bridge of the day -- we came upon nearly at high tide. Pat navigated slowly under the bridge allowing me to do my belly-flop on the bow, and press the "measure" button on Stanley until I could get a read. Luck was in our favor! I got 2 reads on the bridge -- both at 62'. Add approximately 4 feet for the bow above the water line -- and this gives us 66' clearance. 2 full feet of glorious room to spare. It was a good start to our day -- and we easily cruised under this bridge.

The 2nd bridge we came to -- was at lower tide -- should be easy to get under eh? Same routine, Captain Pat inched us up to the bridge - and my first read shows 60'. AIIIIIII! My second read - confirms 60' feet of clearance. Add this to our 4' from the bow line....and we've only got a few INCHES to clear. OMG.

Our travel mates Rick & Linda on MakeItSo - decided to give it a try. I cringed as I watched their mast BARELY clear. This would be painful. With a huge leap of faith, and cheers from the fishermen along the banks near the bridge....Cat Maudy - with only inches to spare...made it under this bridge. My body began to ache from the stress. Hopefully the remaining 7 fixed bridges we would navigate under....would not be this painful.

At this point, MakeItSo takes the lead under the fixed bridges - and we calibrated the remaining bridges based on the clearance that MakeItSo achieved. One bridge was marked as 63 feet -- tho actually it had more like 66 feet of clearance. Another was marked at 64 feet....and by now Pat and I were complete basket cases of nerves.

There must be A LOT of car traffic in Daytona FL. Bridges are constructed everywhere.-- connecting the mainland to the barrier island. In approximately 5 miles, we encountered 6 fixed bridges. Most of the bridges were excruciating close encounters. My thoughts are focused on getting south of Daytona -- so that we would be done with fixed bridges on our travels to Cape Canaveral. Just one more bridge to go.

But wait! We're being chased by the boat Sheriff! And, this is not just the "Sheriff"....it's the POO police! Yep, they boarded our boat - to inspect our toilets....to make sure that "bad stuff" did not escape into the waterways. The POO police dropped bright yellow dye into the toilet...and then flushed away. In true Cat Maudy always-in-need-of-repairs form, ...the toilet with the fresh dye overflowed all over INSIDE of our boat -- spilling the dye everywhere. Oops. Minor detail. I forgot to tell the Sheriff that head doesn't work.

So, you're wondering "what about the other working head?" YES, of course we are compliant with POO rules! No yellow dye escaped into the water. By now, Soxy was meowing wildly. Who was this sheriff intruder? If he wants to inspect POO -- Soxy has a lovely litter box to demo. Just please keep the dye away thank you. We said goodbye to the friendly poo police in Daytona.....there would be no fining Cat Maudy today. Just another toilet to fix.

Gradually, the currents in the ICW began working against us, and our motoring speeds slowed. We would not make it to our destination at Titusville FL. Instead, we would anchor at Mosquito Lagoon for the night - and enjoy temperatures in the upper 50's.

Heat seeking sailors...

2009-12-29T05:19:00.001-05:00

37 degrees in St. Augustine FL? I had to look twice at the thermometer just to be sure. It couldn't possibly be 37 degrees -- after all, we are in FLORIDA! But, we are still too far NORTH. And, as much as St. Augustine is a very cool place to hang....it's just not cool at these temperatures.

After multiple conversations with our travel mates Rick and Linda on catamaran MakeItSo, we abandoned the notion to sail offshore in these temperatures. It looks like we'll be staying in St. Augustine til after New Years. But wait...after checking the weather for Jan 1....it is forecasted to be even COLDER than today. Time for a new plan....

The dreaded ICW is now the option of choice. Instead of waiting 4-5 days for the next blast of northerly winds, in 2 1/2 days, we could be in Cocoa Beach...further south....with more heat. This would make it far more palitable when sailing offshore when that next northerly wind window appears. The plan? Day 1 would be a very short hop. 14 miles on the ICW - til we reach our anchorage near the Matanzas Inlet. Day 2 plan....somewhere south of Daytona Beach....and New Years Eve - in Cocoa Beach. Let the warming begin.

Cat Maudy gets her "steering on"!

2009-12-28T05:16:00.003-05:00

The port side rudder was LOCKED into place. It would not turn - making steering Cat Maudy a challenge. So when we paid a visit to the St. Augustine Marine Center - (who were short on staff due to the December holidays) - we weren't sure what to expect. Would Cat Maudy need to wait a week to get hauled out for rudder repairs? Could the rudder be repaired with Cat Maudy in the water by the skeleton staff?

To our amazement, the moment we arrived at dock - we were greeted by a team of repair specialists -- who immediately determined that (a) they could repair the rudder without removing Cat Maudy from the water and (b) they would assign Ronnie to work on it right away. Talk about SERVICE!!!

Ronnie and Pat wrestled the rudder off the boat....and wheeled it to the Shop for repairs. The rudder was lifted, so that the shaft could rest on a vice grip....while the bearings and rudder could be dismantled. The end result? The shaft was not bent....the bearings were fine....but the aluminum shaft had corroded around the bearing....causing it to expand and exert pressure on the bearing...and locking up the ability to turn the rudder. Sheezz....a lot of details. I need to go for some exercise.

By 4PM (6 hours after we arrived)...the shaft had been cleansed of corrosive pixie dust, barrier goo applied to prevent further corrosion, the rudder assembly restored and returned back onto the boat. Cat Maudy has steering again!!!! Many thanks to the staff at the St. Augustine Marine Center. You guys rock!

The Sheepshead are biting!

2009-12-26T05:07:00.000-05:00

Our new found fishermen buddies Holland and Shawn found some of the best fishing grounds inside of the St. Augustine Inlet, and only a few yards away from Cat Maudy. Naturally I cheered like a wild woman when Holland caught his first Sheepshead fish (the fish that have human like teeth). Sssshhhhhh. Cheering for a fisherman would be "incorrect". No need to attract OTHER fisherman to this hotspot - so I promised to keep the commotion down when the next fish was caught.

Time to buy my Florida fishing license. I imagined fresh catch for dinner every night. Perhaps, I wouldn't know what to do if I were to catch a fish....wouldn't know how to kill it....and surely wouldn't know how to fillet it. But those are details that can be dealt with another day.

Here's what I learned from our fishing friends:
- you can keep 15 sheepshead per person per day. That's a lotto fish!
- the bait is an itsy bitsy crab thing
- chum by scraping off the barnacles near a dock or bridge piling
- then add some broken up mussels to add to the chum flavor
- put your hook down...and start reelin' em in!

The H&S fishing team caught 24 fish that day....just 6 short of their daily limit for 2 people. And, not only did they donate 2 of these fish to us....but took the time to show us how to fillet them! Thanks Shawn & Holland....our fresh sheepshead fish dinner was truly divine!

Christmas-time in St. Augustine FL

2009-12-25T22:40:00.014-05:00

Christmas Eve at the Pizzeria and Christmas day at the Columbia Restaurant in historic St. Augustine - with CAT mates Rick & Linda (MakeItSo), Larry & Karen (Chateau sur la Mer), Shelly and Lynn (Anythings Pawsible).

The jammin' and Christmas sounds of St. Augustine made for a festive atmosphere as we took a break from thinking about boat repairs and how to pay for them!

Christmas nite? Listened to live jazz cuban music, shared more yachtie yachta stories about places we've been, cheap marinas, expensive marinas, the desire to travel to cuba, and yes indeedie - that darn salsa dancing is harder than you think! Soon we'll be departing our separate ways, with new cruising destinations...and surely to meet up again.

There is a HUGE freighter directly in front of me!!!

2009-12-23T20:02:00.018-05:00

5:30AM, on December, 22, (the day after solstice, and the second shortest daylight hour day), a convoy of 3 catamarans departed the Charleston Harbor in SC. The temperatures were a balmy 45 degrees, and light winds. After waiting dockside for 6 weeks due to a series of excuses such as: work, inertia, flu, boat repairs, convoy coordination, cold weather, too windy weather and more -- the conditions were finally "perfect" - from my standpoint. Lite winds...cold, but not freezing...and 3 catamarans ready to go.

Rick and Linda's catamaran MakeItSo won the prize for the most boat repairs in a 48 hour period (AIS, navigation lights and a brand new battery charger installed only 12 hours earlier, and countless reboots to see if anything would improve). Our boat, Cat Maudy took a very close second place award, with it's ongoing rudder mal-alignment issue, and sails that require a crew of 5 to hoist. Larry and Karen's boat Chateau sur la Mer, was short on diesel and running on fumes (without wind and the use of sails), but Karen skillfully cooked up bean soup to the rescue! Yes, the conditions were perfect for a 200 mile offshore overnight cruise!

Jane’s Boat logs:
12.22 8AM Conditions Calm & Lumpy – I can live with this
12.22 10AM MakeItSo hugs shoreline for Internet connection. I aim for MakeItSo.
12.22 11AM No seas at all – lovely!! Metabolism is in overdrive. Eating every 2 hours. Maybe this is nothing new?..I suppose I normally eat every 2 hours...12.22 1PM Pat wants to hoist the main. I need to workout more. Sail is too big. I insist on 1 reef – you never know when big winds suddenly appear.
12.22 2PM lite air – thank u jesus
12.22 3PM steering problems. I have to tether on the port pulpit…and dangle over the rudder to release the hydraulics. Joy! What’s with this POS rudder?
12.22 6PM last stitch of twilight. Visibility nil. Stars and moonlite. I hope our radar works. Soxy is not herself. I have to hold her a lot.
12.22 10PM Pat sleeps. I head the boat toward shore.
12.23 midnite Cat Maudy and MakeItSo share radar, navigation and AIS info. What a wonderful world
12.23 1AM What’s up with these freak’in rudders? I get to dangle over the port pulpit again. I hope Jaws isn’t waiting for me.
12.23 3AM Pat sleeps. La la la….all is good. HOLY SH*# there is a huge freighter directly in front of me!!!!!!!! Take evasive maneuvers. I’m wide awake now. Can’t wait for daylight
12.23 4AM A little breeze is appearing. Hope it stays little. Why is the air from the south? Soxy is not eating.
12.23 6AM daylite cannot come soon enuf. We’re getting winds from the East. It’s supposto be from the north. Wrong again!
12.23 8AM little itsy bitsy breeze is causing the seas to act up? Getting lumpy.
12.23 10AM Pat is diggin’ the breeze. Down to 1 engine, motor sailing at 7.5 knots. It’s actually OK. As long as it doesn’t get feisty.
12.23 1PM We approach St. Augustine inlet. I bring down the main. It’s a monster…takes forever allowing me to bounce around and try to hang on. Oh yeah, I get to dangle over the rudder again. We need steering to get thru the inlet.
12.23 2PM Soxy is no longer talking to us. I’m guessing motion sickness.
12.23 6PM Soxy is back to being our pal

Pat’s Boat Logs
12.22 10AM Karen makes bean soup for Larry. Suddenly, they are catching air! Head out further from shore.
12.22 12PM Busted No wind. 1 engine (starboard) to save fuel.
12.22 1PM Radio communication w/Larry down and back w/Rick. Hoisted Main. Waiting for wind
12.22 3PM steering problems persist. I recalibrate from the helm.
12.22 5PM Larry sleeps. Too much bean soup.
12.22 8PM Jane sleeps. I head Cat Maudy out away from shore.
12.23 1AM recalibrate the rudders every 2 hours now. Steering is bad.
12.23 3AM Jane wakes me up and is fussing about a freighter. Yep, she almost hits it.
12.23 5AM Jane makes me a grilled cheese ‘sammie. 5knots apparent from the east. Hope to unfurl the jib by dawn.
12.23 7AM Unfurl the jib – we are now motor sailing. Hoping for more wind.
12.23 2PM Wait 30 min for the Bridge of Lions to open. Our marina is on the other side of the bridge
12.23 3PM Secured at dock.

Northwest winds did not exist, and any winds were from the south. This provided the benefit of warmer weather, along with the accompanying concern that the forecasters got this one completely wrong. North west winds should clock to North...then North East....but southerly winds (albeit very light) should not have been in our weather window. And why were they clocking east? I could see the potential for big seas erupting. But, they didn't. At least until after we arrived at St. Augustine.

32 hours later, we arrived at St. Augustine, FL and successfully avoided mating Right whales, and becoming bowsprits on incoming freighters at the St. Simon Inlet. Even with starlit nighttime skies, and radar hinting that a "blip" might be important, you just can't see a thing in the dark. Including inbound freighters at the St. Simon inlet.

At the end? 3 catamarans...intact, Boat repair list...expanding. 6 crew members....exhausted. And more cruising stories to tell. It was time to make plans to celebrate Christmas, in St. Augustine.

Cruisers become "family" for a day

2009-11-26T09:20:00.036-05:00

As cruisers arrived at the Charleston Maritime Center - Dockmaster Bob generously volunteered to OPEN the KITCHEN doors and the adjacent conference room to cruisers for a Thanksgiving feast.   Living on a boat, I have learned to cook with a single propane cooktop burner - which basically means I skip the cooking notion altogether and just make salads.   Now, a REAL kitchen means microwave open, a real oven that you can fit more than a fistful of food, larger than human sized refridgeration and a sink with running hot water.   Thanksgiving can't come soon enough!

What began as a carefully choreographed meal plan for 8 - quickly morphed into a free-for-all mealplan to feed 28.   Nobody knew what food choices were being selected for the pot-luck dinner - but with a full sized kitchen, and a bunch of hungry cruisers, it was destined to be a feast.   The traditional turkey and ham, was supplimented by even more turkey...a pork tenderloin...Bob's special Fish Stew - and an assortment of side dishes with enough food to feed a crew of 50!

There were no shortages of dessert - from apple pie, cherry pie, pecan pie, chocolate cake, cranberry pie and key lime pie to name a few.   Bellies were full, waistlines expanding and the atmosphere was filled with delightful chatter, talk of next port destinations and of course, boat repairs!   Thanksgiving in Charleston - cruiser style!

A tour of Charleston...

2009-11-18T11:20:00.001-05:00

Busy with client work, sailing Cat Maudy out of Charleston is delayed - until after December 1. But that doesn't mean that we can't spend some time capturing local flavor. My Charleston tours are more like an exercise jaunt around the tip of the Charleston SC peninsula. Notable sights include:

Cat Maudy waits...for the Admiral

2009-10-31T16:04:00.071-04:00

After a 72 hour sail from Baltimore MD to Charleston SC, we take in the sights including:

The Historic Battery
The Recently built Ravenel Bridge

...and everything inbetween.

Waiting 30 days...for Admiral Captain Jane to arrive.

Baltimore to Charleston Recap

2009-10-21T12:30:00.094-04:00

Delivery Crew (L to R) Bill Edward, John Martin, Pat Todd, Frank Rubright

Baltimore to Norfolk
Departed Balitmore 0919 140nm 21.5hrs avg: 6.6kts SOG

Norfolk to Cape Hatteras
148nm 23hrs avg: 6.4kts SOG

Cape Hatteras to Cape Lookout
77nm 11hrs. Avg: 7kts SOG

Cape Lookout to Frying Pan Shoals
79nm 9hrs 8.8kts SOG

Frying Pan Shoals to Winyah Bay
67nm 8hrs 8.3kts SOG

Winyah Bay to Charleston Harbor Entrance
55nm 7hrs Avg: 7.8kts SOG

Bad weather and big seas...Cat Maudy sails to Charleston

2009-10-19T08:14:00.012-04:00

Notes from dockside:

Friday, Oct 16, 2009 9AM:
On an unusually COLD (40 degree) and drenching rain day in Baltimore, Cat Maudy departs the docks at Anchorage Marina...to head south to Charleston SC. Captain Pat heads up a very capable 4 man crew of John Martin and Frank Rubright from Michigan, and Bill Edwards from Baltimore MD. Finding the right weather window, along with crew availablity is not always easy. With unusually cold and downpour rains, accompanied by gale force winds - this would not be a weather window where I would leave the dock. But alas, I am not on this leg of the southern trip, and the decision is made by the Captain and crew.

Thanks to SPOT - those of us at dockside have complete visibility to GPS positions of Cat Maudy while at sea....and thanks to NOAA weather buoys - the actual wave height, winds and sea state conditions are readily available. Sometimes, this is too much information. The buoy's indicate the sea state conditions at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. And, the conditions are deterioriating rapidly. It is now 4AM, and I can no longer watch.

Saturday, Oct 17, 2009 6:30AM:
The good news, is that the air temperatures are in the 50's. The bad news is that the winds are blowing 25-30, and it feels like temps are in the 30's. Pat calls from cell phone range to report in. He sounds exhausted - but not as bad as he sounded yesterday. Once out of the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay - there is no turning back. There are no harbors or ports to sail into - until you reach the southern portion of the outer banks - at Beaufort, NC. Each time a new SPOT position was transmitted by Cat Maudy - I ran all of the speed and weather checks, to evaluate how they were doing. The weather checklist includes:

Cape henry data buoy: For sea state off mouth of the ChesapeakeChesapeake lt off Chesapeake bay entrance: For near shore wind conditions

all Chesapeake bay data buoys

cape hatteras data buoys: diamond shoalsall hatteras data buoys

main southeast data buoy page
cape hatteras forecast
south mouth of the bay forecast

Virginia near shore forecastcape hatteras forecast from NWS.NOAA

Sunday, October 18, 2009 9:15AM

Pat calls from the satellite phone. They are double reefed on the main, and have a reefed jib...and are cruising along at 9 knots.

Monday, October 19, 2009 9AM

Cat Maudy and crew approach the entrance to the Charleston harbor...

Livin' it up - OLD is the new YOUNG!

2009-09-27T11:57:00.002-04:00

50's are the new 30's. Ok, maybe I'm pushing that a bit, but I'm now officially part of the "AARP Club". Let the member benefits begin!

Cat Maudy's repair list is nearing completion (i.e. we're taking a break from spending $$$)- but she is still dockside. My big day would be filled with land-lubber activities. After sharing coffee and tea with Captain Paddy - it was time to find a workout. I met Jill (sister-n-law and workout partner) at the Merritt Club the moment it opened - and we raced to the pool to be sure to get a lane. Racing was not necessary. Nobody else was silly enough to go to an outdoor swimming pool - with air temperatures in the upper 50's. As we were about to begin our swim with a photo-op....Longshoreman Walt arrived at the pool scene for a swim - and asked to be in our picture. Notice the scary man in our swim photo - this is Walt. We don't know him. He's a longshoreman. We didn't ask any more questions.

Swimming was glorious, where I highlighted 30 days of freestyle learning - and Jill demo'd the "Pro" version. Something to aspire to. We hopped onto as many machines as possible - to achieve 50 events for the day. From biking, to ellipitical, to stair climbing, to balancing, to step aerobics...and finally some hoop action -- the gym workout was just the right dosage for this new member of the 50's Club.

Morning endorphins were running high - and it was time to hook up with big bro Chuck, fluffy sis Jill, girlfriend Tami and hubby Paddy for a trip out to Misty Manor Riding Stable - to go horseback riding.

I have never been on a horse. My mom loved to ride horses as a child, until she had a tragic fall, nearly died, and ended up in the hospital for 6 months. She never rode after that, and refused to allow me to ride a horse in my younger years. Fast forward many many years - and it was time to see what horseback riding was all about. I envisioned my big day, in a corral, on a geriatric horse that didn't have the energy to do anything frisky, and someone holding it's leash - guiding me in circles for an hour. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

Misty Manor Farms...is a "REAL" farm / riding stable. Horses, pigs, goats, extra large dogs, cats all run free. There are no fences here. There is no corral. This should have been my first clue.

We all had to sign a LOT of paperwork saying that we understood that:

horseback riding is very dangerous, and the horse could kill us
it wasn't the horse's fault if it did
you could wear a helmet if that made you feel better

None of us opted to wear the helmets. Perhaps the corral was just out of sight?

It was time for horse assignments. Paddy was first to hop on his horse named "Lightening". Paddy & Lightening seemed at ease with each other. Lightening was docile - and Paddy & Lightening patiently waited for the rest of us to get mounted. I'm guessing Paddy was a Cowboy in his previous life.

Jill was next, and she was assigned a horse named "Alaska". They bonded immediately. Well, of course they would. Jill spills out that she had taken horseback riding (English) as a youngster. English riding is similar to how the jockeys ride a racehorse. I worried the farm folks would think we are experienced riders - based on the show by Cowboy Paddy and Cowgirl Jill.

Time for bro Chuck to saddle up onto a horse named "TJ". TJ had a mind of his own - and immediately headed for the large tub of water to quench his thirst. TJ was in charge, tho Chuck appeared very comfortable with that fact. My brother is very easy going.

My turn. I saddled up onto "Winston". I repeatedly informed the farm folks that I had NEVER ridden a horse before. They smiled and nodded, and assured me that Winston was the perfect horse for me. I put one hand with an iron clad grip on the saddle, and the other held onto the reins. Winston made a beeline for the drink bucket, and he (and I) dipped many times.

Tami, has been my childhood friend since the age of 6. One of my early recollections, has been her (and her siblings) undisputed FEAR of animals. I'm talking kitty cats, dogs, gerbils, toads, frogs, you name it. One year, her mother tried to correct the children's misguided fear -- and bought a few cats to roam free in the house. All I can remember -- is that every child SCATTERED when the cats appeared in their rooms. The children were terrified. It did nothing to alleviate their fears. So, I was STUNNED (and amazed), to hear that Tami would be joining us for this horseback riding adventure.

Tami was last to get saddled up, and perhaps too nervous to catch the name of her horse. We'll just give him a name - "Horsey". I stared in amazement at Tami bonded with this very large animal.

Our horse guide - Dave - blathered out trail riding instructions:

Follow the horse in front of you -in single file...in a specific horse order. No exceptions.
My horse Winston would bring up the rear.
Stay on the muddy tail...off the trail are hornets nests - and they get really mad this time of year
Winston has to stay far back from Horsey (directly in front of Winston)- cuz Horsey liked to kick backwards.

This was a good opportunity to try out religion. Please let Winston keep a good distance form Horsey.

That was IT for instructions. Cowboy Pat was directly behind Trail Guide Dave, followed by Cowgirl Jill and Cowboy Chuck....All 3 looked very comfortable on their horses.

But wait. Where is the corral? Where is the human on the ground with the leash? None of those appeared.

So, there we were. 5 of us, and trail guide Dave along a skinny trail, single file, thru the fields and forests.

Winston was not keen on playing "follow the leader", and Horsey was moving at a much slower pace than all of the other animals. Since Winston could not leap frog ahead of Horsey, Tami & I gradually lost ground from the rest of the pack.

At this point Winston decided it was time for lunch. He put his head down, and happily rummaged off the trail. Tami's horse had stopped completely. No more forward propulsion. Trail Guide Dave yells at us for failing to control our horses. Okey dokey. Perhaps some instructions would help?

Dave finally provides a few instructions. We are to kick the horse to get 'em to move faster, pull their heads HARD to the right or left to make them move in that direction. Oh yeah, and pull the reins back to make 'em stop going forward. It sounded so violent. Tami and I were on the same page. We would not kick the horses to make them go faster. We preferred that they move slowly.

I don't think Winston had been fed for a week. He was hell bent on eating. I kept pulling his reins per Dave's instructions so that his head could not make it down to the foliage...but now all Winston does is jerk his head up and down uncontrollably. Winston is not happy, and I'm starting to get a bit concerned.

Winston has finally had enough of trailing slow-poke Horsey. Winston decides to make a break for freedom, and gallops in the opposite direction. I'm hanging on for dear life...and bouncing along a top of Winston. Holy moley!!! I do what any novice horseback rider would do -- scream for HELP!!!!!!!!!!!

Trail Guide Dave arrives just in time -- to yell at me again for not controlling my horse. I'm not sure which is more appealing - Dave yelling at me for having no clue how to ride a horse, or Winston taking a shortcut back to the ranch. Pat, Jill and Chuck wait patiently on very calm horses....for Tami and I to catch up.

Things seem to be going better as we weave thru the woodlands, jump over very large downed trees, and ride single file down to the riverbank.

About 10 feet from the riverbank - Chuck's horse TJ has decided that there is NO WAY he is going to keep going. Can't say that I blame TJ. The trail gets extra muddy, and who knows what's in that water? Dave yells at Chuck to slap his horse in the butt.

I watch in amusement. It appears that I'm not the only one who refuses to slap and kick the horse to make em go faster. We waited a very long time for Chuck to convince TJ to get down the little bank and hop in the water. TJ finally obliged, despite very strong objections.

Unfortunately, while waiting for TJ to make his move, Horsey and Winston began acting up. Tami becomes terrified of her beast....and I'm getting more nervous by the minute. I pretend to be the horse whisperer, to no avail. Winston has a violent head bucking thing going on - and I start a new religious moment praying that he doesn't thro me off. Every other sentence, I try to convince Tami that "all is OK". Cowboy Paddy and Cowgirl Jill at the head of the line were smiling, laughing, taking pictures and enjoying the moment. Eventually, our horses resumed "follow the leader"...and we were now hoofin' it thru the riverbed.

We traversed thru the river, and up the riverbank into the Patapsco State Park...for a brief road crossing...and then up a mountain. Tami, in a quivering voice inquires every 5 minutes "Are we done yet? How much longer?" I reassure her that we are almost back to the ranch. But, Tami is much too smart for my benign response. "Jane - How do you know how close we are to the finish?" I'm just "sayin".

Tami wants to beat feet...get off her horse in the middle of the trail, and walk back. I can relate. As I suggested to Tami that she think other thoughts for awhile...suddenly all of that head bucking by Winston tore the reins completely out of my hands. The knot that holds the right and left rein came undone...and the reins were dangling on the ground. OMG....I yell out "I've lost steering!!" Dave is not quick to respond...and Winston steps on the reins nearly throwing me over his head. I yell again - "I've lost steering".

Perhaps "lost steering" is boat terminology -- but it applies to horses. Many minutes go by until Dave shows up to grab the lost reins. I quickly restore the knot in the reins. Now, Tami is in a frenzy....since I was in a frenzy....the horses sense the frenzy, and we go round and round on this frenzied merry go round!

I'd sure feel a lot better if Winston would stop the head bucking. It seems if the horses keep moving along without stopping - Winston settles down. We are approaching a brief hill climb. The lead horses on Cowboy Pat and Cowgirl Jill gallivant at a brisk pace up a short hill. Sure enough, Cowboy Chuck and TJ also gallop up the hill. Woaaa. Tami will freak when her horse starts galloping. So, I give play by play instructions -- "Tami - your horse is going to run up the hill...so hang on with everything you got...he'll stop at the top...it's OK"....Both Tami and Horsey made it to the top of the hill intact. Winston and I followed suit - and miraculously, our horses settled back to slo-mo at the top of the hill.

As we passed along the wide open field, with the riding stable in sight...TWO HOURS from when we started this adventure...my only thought was "how quickly could I get off of Winston?". Tami interrupted that thought - and immediately informed the farm folks that she needed to be FIRST off her horse. Before I knew it, Tami had dismounted and made a 100 yard dash for the car.

Out of the corner of my eye, a very unusual situation was unfolding. In an instant, Alaska, along with Cowgirl Jill took off on a FULL SPRINT inside of the barn. I watched sissy disparately pull back HARD on the reins - without ANY success. There was no controlling that horse - Alaska was on a mission. Sissy and Alaska are now out of view - somewhere in the barn. As much as I wanted to know if Sissy was OK...First things first. I just HAD to get off of Winston. It was a glorious moment stepping into the mud and horse poo. I was back on land and off the bucking beast.

Paddy, Chuck, Sissy, Tami and I were reunited, and walking around like cowboys. It will be days before I can bring my knees together. Cowgirl Jill and Alaska were just fine. Apparently, Alaska was hungry and wanted to be first to the food trough. I can relate.

Next stop...barbeque, amazing salads and toffee-crunch CAKE....along with a slide show of how I've aged over 50 years (thank you Big Bro - only you would know!). From this slide-show, I've learned a few simple things about myself:

I'm always exercising
My clothes don't match, and I've never acquired any fashion sense
I love CAKE!

Many thanks to family Paddy, Chuck, Sissy, Tami, Emma, Mike and Fred for putting on a most memorable day!! You guys rock!

The Big Cat House

2009-09-19T12:40:00.066-04:00

Rich from Georgetown Yacht Basin, Galena MD worked on Cat Maudy's saildrive problem.

He had the drives out of the boat a couple of hours after we were blocked on the hard.

Rich found that in addition to the rubber diaphrams we needed prop shaft seals and damper plates on both drives.

So while Rich was making things right with the saildrives Jane and I worked on our own to do list. (Jane was pretty excited about this!)

I cleaned and lubed the Variprops. We replaced all the engine control cables except one. We put the "Cat Maudy" graphic on the bows and put on some bottom paint. Jane painted the forward v-berths. Repairs went quickly and on friday 9/18 we were ready to go back into the water.

Finally, the fix is in and we leave the "Big Cat House" at Georgetown Yacht Basin early in the morning. Destination Baltimore MD.

Sassafras River and Chesapeake Bay fog rolls in...

2009-09-18T10:04:00.001-04:00

We left Georgetown Yacht Basin in the pre-dawn. As we motored through the twists and turns of the Sassafras River area of dense fog were sculpted by a light NE breeze. This of spit of land provided a very nice photo op and then I made kinda B & W. We moved along at idle. I could hear another boat but couldn't see it so when we were completely shrouded in fog... Hmm

We broke loose of the fog at the mouth of Sassafras only to encounter another bank as we headed south to Baltimore.

The new damper plates make a hugh difference. The Yanmars purrr.