Voyage of the Peregrine

The Florida Keys and Home Again

2007-05-24T09:31:00.000-04:00

On March 29th we enjoyed another great sail from Key Biscayne down to the Florida Keys proper and anchored off Pumpkin Key.
Anne and Judi met us in Key Largo on Good Friday and their visit was the highlight of our Florida Keys interlude. We stayed the first three days at Gilbert’s Resort and it was a very interesting place, especially so if you are interested in surveying the consequences of a marina/hotel going 30 years with no maintenance. For instance, the steel doors of the of the marina showers were so badly rusted that an adult, male raccoon could easily walk through the hole in the door and join you in the shower.
At John Pennekamp Park we all watched three large manatees comfortably interacting with swimmers off the beach.
We spent an entire day at Key West shopping and sightseeing and attended the sunset celebration at Mallory Square. The square was jammed with jugglers, musicians, fire-eaters, tee-shirt salesmen, and one escape artist all competing for the attention and dollars of the tourists. I’ll say nothing more about Key West, except that this was the only community, which offered clothing-optional dining, and the moral environment has grown so degraded that even Jimmy Buffet moved out of town.
We enjoyed our best snorkeling of the entire trip with Ann and Judi at the Hens and Chickens reef on the ocean side of Islamorada. The sea floor was covered with living coral, including purple fan coral. Thousands of colorful (and a few colorless) fish swam beneath us. A school of 12-15 large black groupers glided by while I was in the water.
Ann and Judi’s second resort, The Ragged Edge, was much nicer than Gilbert’s, and we spent evenings there playing cards by the pool while Annie watched T.V. in their room ( I presume old Shirley Temple movies).
After Ann and Judi departed, we remained at Plantation Harbor Marina and got to be better friends with sociable and generous Dave and Betsy Chase. Our last evening in Islamorada Dave and Betsy asked whether we’d like to motor with them and their friend Rudy to a nearby restaurant. We departed in their flats boat, maybe 17 feet long intended for fishing in shallow water, We flew over the water about 10” off the surface, quite a different sensation after sailing. Annie, Mary Ann and Dave took turns steering.
The restaurant was charming, near Snake Creek on the ocean side. Rudy, a professional musician as well as boat captain sang and played a couple of Jimmy Buffet numbers with the house musician while waiting for our order. After eating, Dave informed us we were off for a boat ride. The check? We never saw it; somehow Dave paid for our dinners without us seeing a thing. And I ordered a chicken sandwich; I could’ve had lobster!
The next day we started north and after an en route thunderstorm anchored that night at Pumpkin Key in perfectly flat water. As we arrived, a large Southern Stingray leapt out of the water twice with loud splashes. As Mary Ann and I sat in the cockpit watching the sunset colors on the calm surface, another stingray swam past the boat cutting the water with his tail. Our last night in the Keys.
Then we began traveling north with nights in North Miami, Palm Beach, Lake Worth, Vero Beach, New Smyrna Beach and finally St. Augustine.
The Saturday ride from Miami to Palm Beach was especially remarkable. On a warm, sunny afternoon we seemed to be sharing the Intracoastal Waterway with all of the tens of thousands of boats/yachts in south Florida. We were literally surrounded with boats ranging from ten-foot fishing boats up to yachts well over a hundred feet in length (and worth several millions of dollars). Some motored at safe speeds while other powerboats roared by at 20-30 knots creating huge wakes for their fellow boaters to negotiate. The usually narrow channel here has steel or concrete bulkheads, so the waves moving away from us bounced off the walls and returned to rock the Peregrine again. Lake Boca (in Boca Raton) had contained only five boats anchored on our earlier trip south, but on this afternoon a hundred boats were anchored there, many rafted together in clusters of young boaters playing loud music, drinking, wrestling, laughing and generally enjoying the beautiful setting.
Our last anchorage, St. Augustine, was one of our favorite stops; we again attended mass in America’s oldest church and enjoyed excellent pizza at Pizza Alley’s. Mary Ann and Sarah believe that the shops here are the best, stylish clothes at reasonable prices.
Finally, it was time to lower Peregrine’s 52’ mast and haul her out of the water for the truck ride home. The crew at Comanche Cove Boat Yard was competent and eager to help (maybe having three pretty women on board made them more attentive), but we were told that someone had to ascend the mast to tie a bowline from the hoist sling to the mast’s lower spreader. This was an important task and since Annie was the lightest person available, she volunteered. She got it right the first time, and the mast came down without a hitch.
The voyage of the Peregrine was over.

Expenses

I fear that some readers may think that our voyage must have required either great wealth or willingness to go deeply into debt. Not so. Most cruisers are notoriously frugal and live on very little. Certainly, if one must dock in a marina, eat in restaurants every day, and smoke Cuban cigars, if would be easy to go through $10,000+ a month, but if the cruiser anchors in harbors, maintains the boat himself, cooks on the boat, and enjoys reading, swimming, sailing and snorkeling, then a crew of four can be very comfortable on $1,000-$1,500 a month. Some live on much less. For most folks, cruising is much cheaper than living in Toledo.

Concluding Thoughts

I’ve been asked over and over again whether the voyage was all that I thought it would be. No, it was both more than I expected and less.
Cruising to a beautiful, foreign land is a romantic venture. One expects some danger and hardship and one expects to be stirred by exotic beauty. Magazine travel and yacht ads do all they can to market romance. They never include photos of litter, drunks, or the very ugly stray dogs, which haunt the streets of Marsh Harbour. No one expects to throw stones at vicious dogs when setting off for a gallon of milk.
On the other hand, glossy photo ads cannot capture the beauty of sunrise on Man-o-War Cay or the underwater colors of reef fish and coral.
Cruising is also an exercise of hope. The hope is that sometime during the cruise, while watching the sun rise or set, or walking along a deserted, windy shoreline, or swimming with dolphins, I will have a revelation. My faith will increase; I will fully appreciate the miracles of creation. The veil will be lifted from my eyes. Well, maybe and maybe not.
I did learn some things about my family and myself.
We were all able to adjust to living in cramped quarters and respect the needs of each other. There was no grumbling on stormy, cool days. No one got hysterical when we were out in the storm. When the wind was howling and the waves were 7-9’ feet high, no one screamed at me, “You’re an incompetent captain; we’re all going to die, and it’ll be all your fault!!” If they thought it, they didn’t say it.
Of course Annie sometimes complained about being away from home and her friends, but she would complain on a perfect day as well as on a rough one.
About myself I realized that long-term cruising is not for me, at least not now. We encountered many live-aboard couples who had sold their homes and cars and moved aboard a boat permanently. I chatted with one fellow in Ft. Lauderdale as he sipped amber fluid on ice, puffed on a Cuban cigar, and played solitaire on his laptop; he had been sitting at that dock for nearly six months. I think I would either go mad or begin sipping a lot of amber fluid.
Sarah might say that my ambivalent feelings toward leisure result from being raised as a Protestant, but after 30 years of useful labor, the hours of idleness were often burdensome. Any little task was a relief; disassembling the boat toilet, cleaning and fixing it brought great satisfaction (and made the boat smell better).
Still, it was a great trip. We got leaner and browner and stronger, and the Bahamians are generous, honest, Christian people. We got to know many of them in a way that a weeks stay in a hotel would never have accomplished.
Finally, I am grateful to my shipmates. Sam grabbed all the gusto he could and the trip down the coast would’ve been enormously more difficult without him. Sarah brought great enthusiasm and energy with her when she arrived in early February. Annie was almost always a source of joy. I am most grateful, however to Mary Ann. She left the comforts of home behind (including plentiful hot water) and never complained about it. She was always excited by new islands and new adventures, offering her help and encouragement. I think she enjoyed the trip more than I did (even though I never let her fix the toilet) and would be eager to cast off again.
It was a good trip.

Grand Bahama Island and Back to America

2007-05-17T16:53:00.001-04:00

During our last week in the Abacos, we visited the uninhabited islands of Manjack Cay, Allans-Pennsecola Cay, and Great Sale Cay. The tradition on Allans-Pennsecola Cay is to leave the name of ones boat on the Signing Tree on the windward side of the island, so we carved “Peregrine” into a piece of driftwood and hung it from the tree.

After a lovely all-day sail to Great Sale Cay we anchored in placid waters and blew our conch-shell horn as the sun sank on our last day in the Abacos. The sunset blowing of the conch shell is a tradition in the Bahamas and in Hopetown or Marsh Harbour one might hear a dozen shells of various size and tone sounding as the sky turns orange and red.

The next day brought another perfect sail over (very) shallow waters to Old Bahama Bay Resort/Marina on the west end of Grand Bahama Island. There is no anchorage here, so just sailors pay the marina price and enjoy themselves; there is much to enjoy. Aside from the exercise room, T.V. and internet access, patrons were allowed use of the beautiful pool, beach, pool table, ping pong, bicycles, and Hobie cats on the pristine beach. There was a shortage of 13-year-old girls on cruising boats, but Annie buddied up with Carrie Clark (two boats down) and they spent most of their spare time together.

Carrie’s dad was a generous fellow and former starting offensive lineman at Clemson University. In addition to the American and Bahamian flags, he flew the Confederate Stars and Bars, two Clemson Flags, and an upside down South Carolina flag. When you’re 6’6’’ and maybe 260 pounds, nobody questions your flag choices.

West End Settlement was the the most impoverished Bahamiam village we encountered , but as had been the rule the residents were friendly and eager to help visiting yachtsmen. Working at the resort and fishing seem be the main sources of income here, and alcoholism was clearly a problem.

At Sunday mass (3/10) in the tiny St. Michael’s church, Fr. Dan (who attended St. Meinrad Seminary in Indiana) preached an impassioned, excellent homily. After mass many parishioners introduced themselves and three of them offered us a ride back to the marina. We would miss this level of hospitality when we arrived in Florida.

On a ride to Freeport (3/12) our bus passed a funeral procession for a Miss Mary Williams near the Anglican Church. The 200-300 mourners seemed to all be dressed in stylish black dresses or black suits and white shirts.

Incidentally, I received a bit of a compliment at the International Bazaar in Freeport. A middle-aged security guard gave me directions and then asked if I were Bahamian. I thanked her and asked why she thought so. “I don’t know; you just look Bahamian.” Maybe I’d been in the country long enough. The morning of our sixth day at West End dawned on clear skies and winds from the east, so we could finally sail toward Florida. A much happier sail than our trip over, the winds and the seas were behind us and even as the swell grew higher, we slid down the waves with smiling faces. We watched hundreds of flying fish skim the water, sometimes for a couple of hundred feet, and encountered a pod of brown Atlantic Spotted Dolphins who played in our bow wave for 15 minutes before leaving us.

A few days later, we met Ann and Dan Clegg at a marina in the Palm Beach area. Sarah made us great hoagies for dinner, and the next day (3/19) Dan treated us to a spring training game between the Dodgers and Cardinals in nearby Jupiter, Florida. On the 20th Dan proved himself to be a real sailor next day on Lake Worth.

After goodbyes to Dan and Ann, we headed down to the Keys and waited in Key Biscayne a few days for improved weather. While standing at the bus stop in Key Biscayne I asked a 70-year-old pedestrian for the time. I was wearing khaki shorts, a Land's End polo shirt and boat shoes; I had showered and shaved that morning. “Excuse me, sir; do you know the time?”

He looked me over and said, “Sorry, I don’t have any change.” I guess panhandlers dress differently in Key Biscayne than they do in Toledo, but it was a helpfully humbling moment. Near our mooring in Crandon Park, Key Biscayne, was a narrow mangrove-covered island about 300 yards long which was packed with Snowy Ibis, Brown Pelicans, Black Vultures, various terns, and Magnificent Frigate birds. We had seen frigate birds in the air throughout the Abacos, but never so many as here. We didn’t know whether they were nesting, but dozens of adults and immature frigate birds were perched in the trees on the west side of the island.

Mass at St. Agnes Church in Key Biscayne was quite the contrast from West End Settlement. The large church was well supplied with Italian marble. There was a good deal of chatter before mass, especially in the front right side of the sanctuary which contained what might’ve been called the Very Well Groomed Ladies Guitar Choir. The choir also contained a middle-aged man plucking a bass fiddle and an apparently retired gentleman beating a native-American-type drum with his fingertips.

It is a very active parish with several Sunday masses in English ands Spanish and two masses each weekday, but I don't remember any introductions or ride offers after Mass.

Key Biscayne may contain the most expensive housing of the entire trip. We saw a three-bedroom condo on the ocean advertised for $3 million, and I know you could buy a real house in Palm Beach or Boca Raton for the same price. We definitely aren’t moving to Key Biscayne.

Voyage of the Peregrine -- The Saga Continues -- May 9, 2007

2007-05-09T13:04:00.000-04:00

I know it’s been a long time since out last blog entry, but I feel compelled to finish up and share, at least, the highlights of the last half of our cruise. I will, therefore post the remaining blog entries over the next couple of weeks; I hope you'll enjoy them.

When our laptop computer quit for good, we received quite a few calls and e-mails, “Did you sink?”; “Are your dead? “, and, most often, “Did Father Waja ever come back?”
I am now prepared to answer those and other questions our readers may have. The answers are: No, no, and yes, Fr. Waja did return to his pastoral duties in the Abacos, but more about that later.
Our voyage entered phase two (or maybe three) when Sarah arrived February 5th. After a couple of days in Marsh Harbour, we began sharing our favorite Bahamian places with Sarah. Sarah’s first taste of the real Bahamas was on a perfect day (80 degrees, light breezes, clear skies) on Treasure Cay beach. I lack the powers to describe the lovliness on the south end of the 3.5 mile crescent beach: white-pinkish sand, fish darting about in the gin-clear water, small islands dotting the surface east toward the ocean. It was about as good as it could get. Sarah waded far out into the shallow, warm waters.
Of course, it wasn’t all fair weather. We were anchored in White sound on Green Turtle Cay one morning (6:15 AM) when the winds and rain cut loose. The wind was howling (perhaps 60 knots) and heeling us far over on our port side when I struggled out of bed to assess the situation. As I worked my way through the main cabin, Sarah asked quietly, “Dad, are we in a tornado?” Well, we weren’t, but it was a serious storm which caused damage both on land and the water. Our anchor held firm, but another sloop about our size (Ke Le out of Marblehead, Ohio) broke loose in the wind and plowed into a large catamaran (Seven @ Sea containing a married couple and their five kids), so both boats had to re-anchor in the wind rain and, now, nickel to quarter-sized hail. A vessel nine miles north of us on Powell Cay told me that the 150-miles-per-hour winds had ripped off his bimini and otherwise damaged his boat. He insisted that a tornado had hit Powell Cay.
And so it went. Periods of balmy, delicious weather broken up by two or three days of windy, cooler conditions. And we were anticipating and especially an strong northerly front as we entered Hopetown harbor the last weekend before Lent

Hopetown was very crowded during this stormy period, so we rented a dock, but I was anxious to switch to a less expensive mooring, so I motored over to ask Rudy Malone if he had any moorings available.
Rudy is a hard-working, lean, 60 year old whose nose has a lot of character, in fact, it has nothing to fear. His moorings were full but suggested I should call (on the VHF radio) a mooring owner who answers to, “Alley Hoop.”
“Alley Hoop or Alley Oop,” I asked.
“Alley Hoop! Like the song.” And then he began singing in a high, thin voice, “Alley Hoop Hoop, Hoop, Hoop Hoop; Alley Hoop Hoop, Hoop, Hoop Hoop.”
“I see, Alley Hoop. Thanks, Rudy.
Although our relationship never progressed beyond Rudy giving me dockage or ice or water and me giving him money, I will miss Rudy.

The next day we dinghied to mass in strong, cool winds. Hopetown is well-protected from weather, but northerly winds were blowing over 40 knots as the four of us set out in our 8-foot dinghy to cross the harbor. We usually exited our dinghy at public docks, but due to the chop, we knew it would be difficult to climb from the boat to the dock, so instead we ran the dinghy onto a beach just a few yards from the spot Wyannie Malone first landed at Hopetown in 1783.
And waiting to minister to us was Father Waja (Roger) who seemed rested and upbeat about tending to the flock.
Due to the bad weather, Mass was held in the public library rather than outside under a tree. The building was full, and I sat next to a large, black 16-year-old Bahamian boy named David who suffers from autism and other possible ailments. Smiling and with downcast eyes, David spoke softly throughout the Mass. He typically picked up on some phrase from the liturgy or the homily and repeated it. Fr. Roger said, “the eyes of God”; David murmured, “the eyes of God”. It continued, “Lamb of God”, “Love is patient”, “those most in need of thy mercy”. Later, he took my hand and wished me “the peace of God”. I wished him the same.

Two days later (February 22) the weather had improved and we encountered the sailboat Mysterious Ways for the second time. The Nicholsons (Scott, Joanna, Charlotte (age 10) and Allister (age 8) sailed Mysterious Ways, a 37’ Hunter, down from their home in St. Andrews, New Brunswick located in the Bay of Fundy. Scott was used to deep water and shocking tidal swings; St. Andrews typically experiences a 24’ drop in water level from high tide to low tide. Much different from Lake Erie where the tidal swing is roughly, zero.
Scott wanted to enter the local yacht club race on Tuesday and recruited me to crew with him. Well, the conditions were perfect, the boat was fast, the crew was agile, we got off to a fast start and, two hours later, crossed the finish line second to last. We were passed by everything: catamarans, trimarans, catboats, ketches, but Charlotte made us all little award ribbons which read, “Second to Last” and most of the crew went off to the post-race celebration.
That afternoon, while I stayed on the boat and worked on the head (toilet) flushing mechanism, Sarah, Annie and Mary Ann enjoyed the Hopetown beach, one of the most beautiful we encountered, and searched for sea glass.
That evening we all attended a concert at the Hopetown Lodge given by a group of retired members of the Cornell University glee club, The Sherwoods. They were not professional singers, just retired physicians, professors, and businessmen who love to sing. The sun setting into the Atlantic at their backs, they performed old folk songs, show tunes and told old jokes between numbers. Some of the jokes turned on the humorous concept that elderly ladies are rarely choosey where available men are concerned.
The concert was a benefit for Every Child Counts, a self-supporting school for disabled children in Marsh Harbor. David, and his twin brother attend this school. We enjoyed the concert, made as big a donation as our budget could manage and finished the evening back on the boat with Annie’s fresh-baked cookies and a quick game of euchre.
Not all of our days were as full as this (there were days with no toilet repairs), but it is representative. We spent the days exploring the islands as time and the weather allowed. We spent more time in Marsh Harbour than we wanted to, but also enjoyed days off Elbow Cay, in Treasure Cay, Great Guana Cay, Man-o-War Cay, and other beautiful spots. We anchored out in the open when possible, but often ducked into a harbor for protection from the weather. Residents of Frostbite Falls, Minnesota would find my complaits about weather trivial and indeed we could usually sail on the Little Bahamas Bank and the daily temperature range was almost always between the upper and lower 70’s, a high of 78, a low of 73 was typical.
More soon

Sailing through the Ocean to a Cay with No Name and Come Back Fr. Wah Jah

2007-01-21T12:54:00.000-05:00

This has been a very good week for the crew of the Peregrine. We started out in Marsh Harbor to fill our propane tank and pick up our mail. Sarah sent us a box of mail and other items on December 15 (air mail - $22 postage) and it took exactly one month to arrive here. Postage due upon receipt $25.
On Tuesday, we sailed through the Whale Cay passage to Green Turtle Cay, which we had visited briefly early in our Bahamas sojourn. In order to traverse the Whale Cay passage, one has to sail out into the ocean through an opening in the reef, past Whale Cay and then come back onto the Little Bahamas Bank through a relatively shallow cut. We have made a point of doing this only when conditions are relatively calm, because the passage is no joke. Northerly winds generate a “rage” condition when the ocean swells break all across the shallow opening; boats and lives have been lost. Even heavy and powerful ships are vulnerable. In 1986 for instance, a freighter broke up here with the loss of a crew member and the captain’s 13-year old daughter. We made it fine on Tuesday , but we keep in mind that the sea is great and we are small.
This week we spent some time in a tropical paradise just south of Green Turtle Cay near Pelican Cay and No Name Cay. There is only one home on Pelican Cay and the much larger No Name Cay is uninhabited; long white beaches, colorful fish, a couple of reefs and a mysterious lagoon. We had the whole area to ourselves.
I collected a French grunt off the beach of No Name Cay for Annie’s fish dissection assignment. Annie was unenthusiastic about this dissection, so Mary Ann and I made the first incisions, but soon Annie was digging around in the eye searching for the fish lens, which was hard, bright, and spherical.
On Thursday we treated ourselves to a golf cart rental and discovered areas of Green Turtle Cay that we had previously not seen, including a public picnicking area on he windward, ocean side of the island and narrow roads cut through white coral.
On Saturday back to Treasure Cay for weekly mass (held here on Saturday at 5:00 PM). The same priest ministers to much of the Abacos, including: Hopetown, Marsh Harbour, and Treasure Cay. After knowing him for several weeks, we find we have been mistaken about his name. After our first visit to St. Francis Church in Marsh Harbour, I asked Paul, the Haitian shuttle driver, the priest’s name.
“Wah Jah,” he answered.
“Wah Jah,” I asked?
“Wah Jah!”
“I see, it’s Wah Jah.”
We were in agreement; the priest was named Wah Jah, and we were cool (or perhaps down) with that. After future masses we addressed him as Fr. Wah Jah. He smiled and answered to Wah Jah. With other parishioners, we referred to him as Fr. Wah Jah.
Now we learn that his name is Roger (a name I can successfully pronounce), but we have been using the Haitian immigrant pronunciation of Roger, i.e. Wah Jah. Unfortunately, I don’t think we can pass as Haitian immigrants, and I wonder whether we might have offended Fr. Roger.
We learned last night that Fr. Roger has taken some weeks off to return to his home in the Philippines. We hope this break was not necessary due to the stress of being frequently called Wah Jah, not only by the Haitian immigrants, but by white folks pretending to be Haitian immigrants. We hope he returns to his good work here.

Back to Man-o-War; On to Treasure Cay

2007-01-14T15:51:00.000-05:00

Since this was a windy week, we spent some time in Man-o’-War's excellent harbor. On Man-o’-War we enjoyed the company of some new friends. Temple and her orthodontist husband Richard, had sailed from Maine. We took several long walks with Temple, a gentle, gracious lady (incidentally, Richard sails a 56' Hinckley, one of the most beautiful yachts we have seen anywhere).

We also met an interesting English couple, Michael and Jackie, aboard the 41' ketch First Lady. When Mary Ann and I stopped by earlier in the week to examine their broken chain plate, Jackie immediately invited us aboard for tea and biscuits, although the package referred to them as “Digestive Biscuits”. They tasted like Lorna Doone cookies, but I must find out why they are called Digestive. Do they aid in digestion or what?

The next evening Michael and Jackie visited us after dinner and we enjoyed Annie’s pineapple upside-down cake with coffee and red wine in the Peregrine’s main cabin. As I earlier suggested they have an interesting story. After Michael had studied economics at Oxford, he traveled in 1972 to South Africa on business where he met Jackie (they now have a son and two daughters). Michael then joined the English diplomatic corps and was assigned to various posts, including (still in the 70’s) Botswana (where they no doubt met many ladies of traditional Botswanan build).

He has some good stories, but the most exciting described their recent voyage from Nassau to the Abacos. In high winds and heavy seas their chain plate broke; the chain plate is a heavy piece of stainless steel which anchors the shrouds and, therefore, holds the masts up. It should never break. Nevertheless, Michael reacted quickly to the failure and the boat made it safely to port. For more about their trip, check their web page feed://www.firstlady41.com/blog_rss.xml

After four days in Man-o-War, we sailed on to Treasure Cay, about which we knew very little. Treasure Cay is unlike any island visited so far. First, most of these islands were settled by American Loyalists (loyal to the British crown) about 220 years ago (they apparently decided to flee a country where Bill Clinton would someday be president and Rosie O'Donnell would be popular). There is no old settlement here, but in fact there was an attempted settlement here which failed. It was built at the southern end of the beach, now called Carleton Point, but the settlers soon left. The apparent reason for failure is evident; the other succcessful settlements are next to protected harbors, but here there is only a very beautiful beach (check for Carleton Point in the photo of Mary Ann on the beach).
The other difference is that Treasure Cay is not a true community. On most of the Abaco islands, like Man-O-War settlement, family and community activities are common. Young moms drive the kids around in golf carts; the youngest usually held with the left hand on mom’s lap, no seat belts anywhere.
Treasure Cay, however, consists of condos, villas, second homes, a few stores, some restaurants and bars, a large (mostly empty) marina, and one of the most beautiful beaches in the world (according to National Geographic).
What’s so beautiful, you wonder, about the beach? Well, it’s a gently curving crescent shape; the sand is very white, powdery stuff; a dolphin family was playing 40 yards off the shore when we were there; but the light-green, translucent water is probably the clincher. The dark blue water on the ocean beaches is striking, but for most folks Treasure Cay beach on the aqua Sea of Abaco will be thought more beautiful.
The place seems to be prospering (they are building more housing units), but I’m not sure why, since we have seen very few people. There are two bars on the water, and on Saturday night at 8:00 PM , one bar was closed and the other was serving about five gloomy drinkers. The upscale restaurant, Spinnakers, had four tables in use out of perhaps 50. The weather is perfect today (Sunday) and maybe a dozen people are enjoying a 3 1/2 mile beach (one of the ten best in the world). So, I don’t understand the economy here, but I guess they’re doing fine. We’ve spent about $15, so we’re doing our part.
A word about the fauna: we have seen no squirrels, raccoons, or mice, but Little Bahamas Curly-tailed lizards are everywhere; one nearly steps on them. The size seems to range from a few inches to several inches in length, but it’s hard to tell, since the males curl up their tails, and you’d have to catch one and uncurl him to be sure. You’ve probably guessed that the males curl up their tails to impress the females and intimidate the other males (if they lived in east L.A., they might load up a ‘62 Chevy with woofers and hydraulics pursuing the same motives).

Little Harbor - Great Guana Cay

2007-01-08T10:01:00.000-05:00

Shallow water is common in The Bahamas, but the shallowest we know of is in the channel entering Little Harbor, the southernmost harbor in the Abacos. I’ll only say that we spent two hours in that channel waiting for the tide to change so we could get all the way into the harbor. ( Oh, and heartfelt thanks to all the nice folks who helped us move off the hard bottom: Andy and his son Andy, Danny, Bruce, and , of course, Larry. Boaters, even power boaters, come very quickly when needed. )
Little Harbor was settled by artist/ teacher Randolph Johnston who moved his family there and lived aboard their boat until it was destroyed by a hurricane. Then they lived in a cave while building real shelter. At any rate he was an apparently gifted sculptor (although it seems to me he was preoccupied with large buttocks) and demand grew for his cast bronzes (lost wax process). He’s gone now, but his son Pete operates a pub/ restaurant and still produces statues of naked people rising from the sea or just standing around being naked.
It is an extremely friendly spot, and a nice couple, Bruce and Lin Olson invited us to their boat New Year’s Eve for snacks, fresh cherry pie, and champagne. Lin is a teacher, but Bruce was a clinical psychologist, so I tried to avoid revealing any unresolved feelings toward my mother, father, or childhood sled, “Rosebud”. A very enjoyable evening and we were asleep by 10:30 PM
Just about midnight the fireworks display began and Pete fired the rockets right out over the boats in the anchorage. If I had been a combat soldier back in Nam, I'd have awoken in a panic thinking that Charlie had just launched a rocket and mortar attack and that one had exploded over my head. (Luckily the only traumatic stress I suffered in the war involved badly impacted third molars.)
We slipped out of Little Harbor at high tide early Monday morning without relying on the kindness of strangers.
Later in the week, we spent three days on Great Guana Cay, across the Sea of Abaco from Marsh Harbour. The settlement here is the smallest and least impressive we have yet seen. I won’t say trashy, but there are beer bottles and litter everywhere, the folks are unfriendly, and some of their houses are near collapse. (Mary Ann thought it might better have been named Bat Guano Cay.)
Once one leaves the harborside settlement, the character of the island changes. As is often the case here, the newer homes are quite nice and frequently enjoy a view of the ocean or Sea of Abaco. We rented a golf cart, and drove, on this long slender island, as far as the road (and the guards) would allow. There really were guards (but low-key, friendly Bahamian guards) because Great Guana is in the middle of a political dispute. The Bakers Bay Resort wants to build a golf course, but the locals are opposed because golf course fertilizer kills coral reefs. They are currently settling this in the London courts.
We snorkeled on a part of their reef Thursday afternoon, and in some ways it was the best we have seen. There were huge areas of purple fan coral and schools of reef fish. This was a large barrier coral reef, but there is much more reef all along the island. It would be a real loss if the reef suffered future damage.

The Nitty Gritty

2006-12-31T16:50:00.000-05:00

Our original plan for this trip was a modified comma course. We would sail from south Florida to the northernmost Bahama islands; visit, explore and enjoy that island and then proceed south to the next island and repeat the process working our way south until we ran out of money or until Mary Ann refused to sleep in a triangular-shaped bed any longer. A good plan! Short day sails from one island fringed by sandy beaches and palm trees to another.
Of course, our sojourn in the Bahamas has been nothing like that. The weather has been the greatest limiting factor. The weather is milder, even than south Florida, but is much windier. Many days the winds blow 20-30 knots all day and the smartest course is to remain at anchor in a protected harbor. Some days it is exciting (and wet) just to motor the dinghy from the boat to the dock. A trip out into the ocean is in fact dangerous as it is hard to find the gaps in the reef when 10-foot waves are breaking all across the opening.
Other concerns include: food, water, ice, church, laundry, and propane. Marsh Harbour, on Great Abaco Island, is perhaps the least beautiful of our stops, but the town has everything we need. Take food for example; everything in the Bahamas is more expensive than in the States,but when one gets to the out islands, also called the family islands, the price goes way up. Shortly before leaving, I bought a gallon of milk at the Glendale Ave. Krogers for about $ 2.25; at the Marsh Harbour supermarket the same gallon costs $4.00, but two days ago in Hope Town milk cost me $ 8.50 for the gallon.
We also require fresh water every few days. Fifty gallons goes pretty fast, especially with showers after swimming. It’s not free, however; good reverse osmosis water runs 20 cents per gallon.
Since our refrigerator runs down the boat batteries so quickly, our fridge is functionally an ice chest. That means one block of ice per day ($4-$5 per ) or the expensive milk will be chunky and the sandwich meat will be green. Have you ever washed down a green ham sandwich with warm Diet Pepsi?
Catholic masses are also harder to find than we expected. The large majority of Bahamians are Christian, but most are protestant, and again Marsh Harbour has regular Catholic masses at St. Francis (with a ten-minute sign of peace).
The same principle applies with propane and laundry; we need to fill our propane tank every two weeks or we can’t cook (or even make coffee!). Again, the only settlement which offers same-day propane is Marsh Harbour. Laundry must be washed every 5-6 days and Marsh Harbour has two laundromats. Laundry at the marina costs $8.00 a load, but white shirts remain fairly white.
There are probably yachts down here which are virtually self-sufficient, equipped with: water makers, solar panels, satellite dishes, washing machines, generators, and very large fuel tanks, but not the Peregrine.
As I write this we are moored in Little Harbor; sandy beaches, coconut palms, snorkeling reefs, and ragged caves are abundant. Pete’s Pub and Art Gallery (check www.petespubandgallery.com) offers overpriced drinks, some food (the cheeseburger runs either $13 or $14 depending on type of cheese) and bronze sculpture at really high prices, but no water, propane, laundry, church, or milk at any price. I suppose a Wal-Mart Super center near the beach would lessen the charm.) So, if the winds are less than 30 knots tomorrow, it’s back to Marsh Harbour to fill our propane tank and our other basic needs.
May all of you enjoy the best possible Near Year.
(note on photos: No doubt most of you realize that you may click on the photo for an enlarged view; if you haven't, try it. The underwater photos were all taken by members of the Peregrine crew (most by Sam). Unfortunately, Sam is now in Ohio where the water is currently hard. Since we still have many of Sam's photos saved on the compuer we will continue to include a few.)

Man-o-War Cay, Merry Christmas, Farewell Sam

2006-12-22T16:06:00.000-05:00

We arrived at the settlement on Man-o-War Cay on a gusty Tuesday afternoon with mixed expectations, since some of tour cruising guides are scarcely willing to recommend anchoring here. A substantial percentage of cruisers consider rich food and strong drink as the essential to the the lifestyle, but there are only two restaurants on Man-o-War Cay and no bars or liquor stores. Man-o-War turns out to be unusual in many ways.
Upon arriving, we first encountered a 60-year-old black Bahamian man, John, in the shack on the fuel dock watching Dr. Phil on TV who was discussing threats to family relationships at Christmas.
Surprisingly, Man-o-War is very clean. The Bahamas (and Eric might suggest most second and third world countries) are afflicted with litter, but not here. The streets are clean, and the yards are not just well-maintained, but garden like. (I have included several garden photos Mary Ann took while walking the island.) Although the harbor and marina are full of boats, the island is dominated by the locals (probably 90% are white descendants of the Loyalists who colonized the cay 200 years ago) and unlike Hope Town, there are few rental cottages or evidence of tourists.
The very industrious folks apparently support themselves through their own labor. The original wood boat-building industry has been replaced by construction of fiberglass boats at Albury Brothers boatyard. There are two other boatyards, Edwins 1 and Edwins 2 (I think Edwin owns both of them) which build and repair various boats. On Wednesday night, Mary Ann and I were surprised to see at 8:00 PM that Albury Brothers shop (full of tools and materials) was left open and unlocked after the employees had departed for home.
We also noticed that services were being held at the New Life Bible Church and the ladies in church were wearing chapel veils. Three protestant churches serve the spiritual needs of the town’s 600 residents.
There are no full-size cars or trucks on the island; everyone drives golf carts or surprisingly tiny trucks. And the residents appear to be fertile; the golf carts frequently contain more than one child (though they are never wearing safety belts).
So, Man-o-War Cay is a clean, safe, picturesque, Christian, industrious community where alcoholism is pursued in private (rather than celebrated in waterside bars), and which seems to have just about perfect weather (except for hurricanes). The coastal scenery is also gorgeous, but you’ve probably grown tired of me telling you that; I’ll just attach some photos.
We are a bit melancholy right now since we are away from all of you at Christmas and because we must say good-bye to Sam on the morning of the 26th; Sam is returning to his engineering studies at the University of Toledo. He is probably feeling ready to return home, but we will miss him much. Sam has: been good and cheering company, helped move the boat in the right direction, spent untold hours forcing the principles of algebra in Annie’s sometimes resistant head, been a friend to all of us, playing countless games of “crazy eights” with his sister (including their own variations of the game). An important member of our crew will be missing when Sam’s plane lifts off Tuesday morning. God’s speed, Sam.
Finally, the merriest of Christmas to you all; enjoy all the delights of the season which we will miss.

Hope Town, The Abacos 12/18

2006-12-18T11:12:00.000-05:00

On Wednesday we finally got out of Marsh Harbour and headed south along the islands which border the east side of the Sea of Abaco. We anchored on the east shore of Tilloo Cay, a lonely spot near a small reef which we snorkeled on Wednesday and Thursday, the best reef so far.
On Thursday, we sailed to Hope Town, another of the villages which was founded originally by New England Loyalists who fled the American Revolution.
Friday night we enjoyed a special treat as Hope Town performed their Christmas play in the local Methodist church. The cast ranged in age from about three years to 40 or so. The very small kids played the angels and the sheep and they got the most applause. (I’m unsure about the racial overtones, but two of the sheep were little black boys who wore whiteface makeup to better match their wooly costumes.)
Sunday Communion service in Hope Town was held under a tree in a small park next to the harbor, simple and beautiful. The Advent wreath was imitation pine boughs, with some sparkly tinsel wrapped around it and suspended from a branch of the tree. The candles stayed lit but they burned fast in the gentle breeze. I could hear mockingbirds and ringed-neck turtle doves around. We sang acappella. There were a handful of well-dressed little children who quickly climbed the tree when they arrived.
Eventually, their mom scolded them and they came down. I
didn't see the parents since we were in the front row of wooden benches which were our pews.
Right after mass, Annie, Sam and Mary Ann changed into swimsuits in the public restroom and hit the beach. After about an hour Mary Ann wanted to climb the steps and sit on a wooden bench at the top of the beach since she was tired of sitting in the sand.
When she reached the top of the steps, a little tyke passed her politely saying, "Excuse me." Here came a few more kids and eventually the mom and dad. After exchanging hellos Mary Ann looked at the mom and said, "I know you!" She looked a bit puzzled, then stuck out her hand and said, "I'm Lori. This is my husband Chuck." It was Lori Hawes, from Toledo, St. Joes!
Mary Ann and Lori spent the next half hour gabbing with each other and exchanging all sorts of info. We had seen the Hawes children in the tree before mass.
Talk about a SMALL WORLD!
Later, Mary Ann and I joined an elderly man on that bench above the beach. He was in his late 70’s and frail looking, but has lived a very accomplished life; he is in fact a famous craftsman. Winer Malone is descended from one of the original British Loyalists and is the last in a line of wooden boat builders. Winer has spent the past 50 years of his life building wooden boats by hand (no power tools, no blueprints). His best-known design is he Abaco dingy, a classic twelve-foot, dinghy usually propelled by a long sculling oar over the transom or a sail; these dinghies were used for fishing, travel, courtship . . . But Winer has built his last dinghy; his children and grandchildren have moved to Florida (where the living is easier), and he can’t afford to see his grandchildren often. He isn’t happy about the changes in the Abacos, but he enjoys the fresh breeze off the Atlantic and the fabulous colors here (which cameras can’t quite capture). The 45-minutes we spent conversing with him was a great privilege.

Peregrine Geography

2006-12-18T10:01:00.000-05:00

A month ago, I included an update on the geography of our travels which was followed by at least one request that I do so more often. So today I am attaching two maps which outline the trip down the Intracoastal Waterway from 10/25 'til 12/2 and another chart describing our early movements in The Bahamas.

Whale Cay Passage and Marsh Harbor 12/10

2006-12-11T16:08:00.000-05:00

After four nights in New Plymouth, we enjoyed diminished winds Thursday morning, so we decided to head a bit further south in the Abacos to Marsh Harbour. This requires a brief passage out into the ocean and then back onto the reef-protected Little Bahama Bank. There was little wind and the ocean swells (4-6 feet) were gentle, round, and spaced 50-60 feet, so we had an easy ride; it was as close as we could get to a winter sleigh ride.
Soon after returning to the Bank, we approached a beach too lovely to pass, at Bakers Bay on Great Guana Cay, so we dropped the hook and dinghied ashore for some snorkeling and exploring. A few years ago, this spot was a stop for the Disney cruise ships, but they bailed out on it and Thursday we had the beach to ourselves. After swimming and lunch, we sailed on to Marsh Harbour which is the third biggest town in The Bahamas (5,500 pop.) and a base of operations for many cruising sailors. Marsh Harbour lacks some of the charm of New Plymouth, but it does have two real supermarkets, ATMs, four marinas, and two marine stores.
Sharp contrasts abound in Marsh Harbour. There are luxurious yachts in the marinas and high-priced resorts alongside poorly paved streets, mongrel dogs running loose and raggedy men drinking beer on the corners. Nevertheless, Bahamian children appear well taken care of and at mass the little boys wore dress shirts and small shiny ties. We listen to the news every morning (read by Silbert Mills), and so far as I can tell there is no crime here.
Luckily, Marsh Harbour was having its Christmas festival Saturday night a few blocks from the marina and there were many entertainments including a performance by the Royal Bahamian Police Marching Band. The music was well-played, Christmassy and fun, which they performed while executing synchronized marching in the street. The crowd loved it, and I was especially impressed by the real leopard skins (complete with dead leopard heads) worn by the drummers. Harmony reigned at the festival but all the music, including Feliz Navidad, was performed with a Bahamian beat. The food was great; the lobster dinner (with two fresh lobster tails) was $14, and the barbecued ribs were making lots of smoke and going fast.
Another highlight, Mary Ann and I were interviewed on camera by Silbert Mills in person who was wearing a white baseball hat, but who speaks like an upper-class Englishman.
On Sunday morning a van from St. Francis DeSales picked us up and delivered us to mass at the beautiful little octagonal church in a rocky canyon outside of town. The congregation was a remarkable racial and social mix, about equal parts white and black with a sprinkling of Asians. Father Waja is Filipino, but his English was easier to understand than the Bahamian accent. The sign of peace went on for several minutes with retired American bankers and penniless Haitian immigrants all wishing each other peace. Especially memorable was an elderly woman offering a wonderful rendition of “Ave Maria”. She was blessed with a clear, soprano, operatic voice and must have been an accomplished performer in earlier years. Again, this was in some contrast with the highly rhythmic (even reggae) hymns sung by the church youth choir.
We will probably make Marsh Harbour our base of operations too, but plan to sail away for a few days this week visiting surrounding islands.

Annie at the Beach

2006-12-11T16:04:00.000-05:00

12/11/06
Hey, this is Annie; sorry it’s been so long. I will make this entry short and sweet ‘cause I have a lesson of math to do, two of science, and read some literature, all before lunch!
Yesterday we (Sam and I) went snorkeling. It was great! Sam let me use his underwater camera and I took some great pics. One is of a Peacock Flounder which is kind of hard , no, it’s really hard to see. It’s right in the middle of the picture, so just stare at it and pretend you know what you’re seeing. I found some beautiful shells - a particularly colorful one that unfortunately was occupied by a hermit crab. And I found a six-holed keyhole urchin, more commonly known as a sand dollar! It was a beautiful coral reef.

Rough Crossing, Sweet Arrival -- Green Turtle Cay, The Bahamas 12/5

2006-12-06T11:54:00.001-05:00

We finally tore ourselves loose from Vero Beach (also called Velcro Beach) on December 1, and headed down to Palm Beach. We had been sharing a mooring buoy (rafted on) with two other boats for seven nights, but luckily all our mooring buddies were affable, considerate cruisers.
We were especially blessed with the company of Ross and Rosemary Newkirk, retired university professors from Waterloo, Ontario. Ross, a PH. D in engineering has the best possible taste in popular literature (he has read all the Patrick O’Brian novels more than once). Ross also showed us his fishing lures and we’ve already caught a couple of fish on a yellow, spotted squid lure. We just troll the lure on heavy line behind the boat.
So, we motored down to the Lake Worth Inlet on Friday and decided to cross Saturday night with another couple (Corrin and John on “Cee J”). While anchored near the ocean inlet, we were treated to the Palm Beach Christmas Boat parade. At 6:30 PM the fireworks began and then the parade. Perhaps 40 boats decorated with many lights and Christmas displays paraded past the inlet and around Peanut Island to the great amusement of spectators on land and water. Most of the boat passengers were dressed as Santa or elves and many boats had Christmas music blaring loudly. Feliz Navidad was the most popular song, but one pontoon boat loaded with women of color dancing to some funky pop music may have been the Kwanza entry (Mma Ramotswe would have called many of the dancers “women of traditional Botswanan build”).
After the fireworks and parade, “Cee J” and Peregrine motored out into the dark Atlantic enroute to The Bahamas. While the conditions were better than they had been for the past two weeks, they were less than ideal. If you have been a faithful reader of this blog, you remember that we were hoping for small seas and south or west breezes. Instead, we settled for a forecast of 2-4 foot seas and 10-15 knots out of the east (and we were motoring east). The 54 miles from Palm Beach to the Little Bahama bank required 11 hours of motoring into the wind, of climbing the waves and plunging into the troughs. No sailor savors such conditions, but Peregrine handled the water well and the passage progressed safely.
What was the good part? Well, there was a nearly full moon, bright and numerous stars (including the shooting kinds), it didn’t rain, and “Cee J” was equipped with radar so we were unlikely to be surprised by freighters or cruise ships if visibility had deteriorated.
After we entered the shallow waters of the Bank, the conditions improved dramatically. We were still motoring into a 15 knot breeze, but we left the 4-5 foot rollers in favor of a 1 1/2 foot chop, the water a lovely aqua blue so clear that the bottom (18-20 feet down) was clearly visible. Our spirits rose higher as we motored to Great Sale Cay (pronounced Great Sale Key) arriving there at 2:30 PM and anchoring in smooth, crystal-clear water. A nineteen-hour trip which the boat handled much better than the skipper.
Annie, with her new mask and fins, was in the water a few seconds after the anchor grabbed hold and we spent the rest of the daylight hours swimming, snorkeling, and exploring this large, uninhabited island. Great Sale Cay, more than three miles in length,is shaped something like a very fashionable Italian boot and served as part of the U.S. missile tracking range during the late 50s and early 60s.
On Monday we left Great Sale Cay shortly after dawn along with most of the 15 boats which had anchored there and traveled 43 miles southeast to New Plymouth on Green Turtle Cay.
New Plymouth was founded after the American revolution (1786) by loyalists from New England who wanted to remain under the British crown. So far as we can gather, a dozen families and their slaves settled the island and prospered. Some of the original buildings are still here (steep-roofed so that the snow will slide off - they last had snow flurries in 1963), and the streets are very narrow, used by cars and golf carts all driving on the wrong side of the road.
On Tuesday I cleared local customs and in the afternoon Mary Ann and I toured the village and shopped while Annie and Sam snorkeled on a great beach facing the Atlantic which featured an offshore and inside reef.
We’re finally in The Bahamas; the water is clear and warm, the grouper and cracked conch are fresh, no one is in a hurry, and there is only one radio station (Radio Bahamas) which plays a mix of Christian gospel, Madonna, Wayne Newton, and reggae Christmas carols. We’re not in Ohio anymore.

Manatees, Space, and Weather 11/28

2006-11-28T10:47:00.000-05:00

First the good news - there are manatees in Florida. A few minutes after I posted the last blog, Mary Ann spotted a small group off our dock. Sam rowed the dingy out and sat for a few minutes before an adult manatee raised his head and gave Sam a long look.
The bad news is the sailing weather. We need winds from the south or west to sail, or just calm variable breezes (to motor across to Grand Bahama). However, the wind has been blowing from the north for more than a week (which builds big waves when the wind opposes the northerly Gulf Stream current). The wind seems to be shifting to the east now, but we can’t sail against the wind and are reluctant to motor against it in the open ocean. So we wait.
We have not, however, been just sitting around the boat moping. Last Wednesday and Thursday (Thanksgiving), we visited the Kennedy Space Center and Cape Kennedy. We all enjoyed it and learned quite a lot; I think Sam was the most interested. The size of the rockets was most amazing, especially the Saturn V (I think 360 feet long!)
We enjoyed a delicious Thanksgiving dinner before returning to Kennedy; Annie and Mary Ann prepared baked ham, yam and date casserole, salmon cakes (with dill dip) (for the half-hearted vegetarian on board), green bean casserole and pecan pie for desert.
On Friday we sailed down to Vero Beach, which boasts a large mooring field; there may be 60-80 boats moored here; I met a couple yesterday who have been waiting for 16 days for good weather!
Vero Beach is a beautiful little community; the ocean-front architecture leans toward pastel-colored, imitation-Italian villas, and the buses (which are free) are loaded with boaters carrying laptop computers and wearing Sperry Topsiders (just like Toledo buses).
You’ll all be happy to hear that Vero Beach also has a beautiful beach which we’ve been able to visit almost every day. The afternoon highs have been in the upper 70’s in spite of the north wind, and Annie and Sam have been enjoying the surf. Annie admitted yesterday that she’s “starting to get excited about this trip.” Sam’s response, “You’re weird.”
So for now we wait for weather, but the marina has hot showers, a TV lounge, and and a nice picnic area where we grilled some brats last night ( and one turkey imitation brat for half-hearted vegetarian on board).

Please pray for the repose of the soul of Rolland Ladd who passed away last Tuesday in Tucson, AZ. He was a good and generous man and a great uncle.

Pushing on to Melbourne and a Special Light Show 11/21

2006-11-21T19:54:00.000-05:00

The weather finally settled down in Fernandina Beach and we pushed on to a very quiet, dark, creek anchorage in north Florida.
I should, of course, explain how our plumbing works at this time. When one wishes to flush the toilet, one rapidly raises and lowers the handle just to the right of the bowl. This draws water from beneath of the boat into the toilet bowl and then expels all the contents of the bowl into a holding tank where it remains until it is removed by a sanitary pumpout machine (one hopes that will be reasonably soon).
In this case the water came from a tidal marsh near the Atlantic. At any rate, on this night I visited the head at 10:30 and since everyone else was asleep I didn’t turn on the light. My eyes were well adjusted to the dark so that when I flushed the head I could easily see the scores of tiny phosphorescent creatures which rushed in with the sea water. This was an unexpected treat, so I pumped for quite awhile. Then knowing Mary Ann as well as I do, I woke her up and encouraged her to flush the toilet for awhile. She enjoyed this thoroughly, as I knew she would, and flushed 15-20 times. We considered waking Sam too, but suspected he would prefer continuing a deep sleep to gazing into the toilet. We have observed the phosphorescence when rowing at night in he dingy, but this was a special moment for us seeing the little creatures for the first time in our toilet.
Regarding other matters, dolphins are more numerous the further south we travel, and we have seen: White Pelicans (enormous birds with up a 8 1/2 wing span, Black Skimmers, and Coots. People tell us there are manatees all around, but we haven’t seen any so we’re skeptical.
St. Augustine was another beautiful town. We took a day off travel to go sightseeing there. The fort on the waterfront Castillo de San Marcos is one of the oldest structures in the Americas, built in 1672. We also attended mass at Cathedral of St. Augustine, the oldest Catholic parish in the United States, established 1565.
When we arrived Saturday morning, an anti-Bush rally was in progress attended by at least 15 demonstrators. One protester carried two signs: “Mission Accomplished! Gas $3 a gallon” and a smaller one “Will Work for Food”. Another first, my first political panhandler!
We’re spending tonight in Melbourne; the people are extremely helpful and friendly. A fellow at the marina let us use his truck all afternoon and now we’re all stocked up for the Bahamas.
We wish all of you a Happy Thanksgiving. We will miss home more than usual during the holiday but will try to console ourselves with the palm trees, warm weather, and watchng the manatees, if there really are any.

Carolina Coast, Georgia and Fernandina Beach, Florida 11/16

2006-11-16T19:24:00.000-05:00

During the past week we have been motoring (occasionally sailing) through remote areas of South Carolina and Georgia. We have passed very few towns and when we do anchor near a community the nearest grocery store is usually three miles away (not walking distance for me at the end of a long day).
We continue to see many eagles, pelicans and countless cormorants, but we’ve added o our list: Wood Stork, Louisiana Heron, Anhinga, and White Ibis. Along one creek bank at low tide we watched a flock of 12-15 White Ibis feeding furiously in the mud.

We’re always moving by dawn and so are most of the south-bound boaters. We see many of the same boats each place we anchor; sometimes we travel near them for hours. The sailboats tend to proceed at about the same speed (5 1/2- 7 knots), so we often seem to be part of a flotilla winding south through the rivers, creeks, and sounds of the South. The early start means we’re also ready for bed early. After dinner and some family games (including a two-day game of golf), I usually read aloud; Louis L’Amour and C. S. Forester are favorites. Sam and Annie seem to enjoy this, but Mary Ann usually falls asleep before I’ve finished the first page. That may be around 8:00 PM.

Just before arriving at the anchorage near Georgetown, SC, we were boarded by a Coast Guard patrol. They were nice young men carrying large semi-automatic pistols. One of them, Eugene was from Toledo! They found no drugs, explosive devices, or illegal weapons on board, and we passed the safety inspection.
The next evening, while anchored in a marshy estuary named Outlet Creek,we discovered our first alligator of the trip. Annie identified it first (although she may have called it a crocodile), and Sam and I got so close that it leapt off the mud bank in our direction splashing Sam and his camera. In fairness to the alligator, we were so close that he had to move toward us to get off the bank.
We had been looking forward to visiting Charleston, SC, and the city did not disappoint us. We took a walking tour of the city on a clear, warm day. Highlights included St. Mary’s Church (the mother church of the Carolinas), the Exchange/Dungeon (where famous pirates and three signers of the Declaration of Independence were, at various times, kept prisoner), and a delectable (and 100% kosher) lunch at the Pita King (be sure to order the chummous).
Then on to another great town, Beaufort (Be-you-fert), South Carolina. These Carolinians have the best possible taste in housing and extremely high home prices. Even ugly houses are pricey. We saw an add for a double-wide trailer far from the water for just under $200,000. We attended last Sunday mass just outside Beaufort at St. Peters which even though a new church was beautiful and was home for a large and apparently vibrant spiritual community.

Last night (11/15), we tied up in the marina in Fernandina Beach, Florida (yes, Florida) after a tough day of motoring into a stiff breeze across the St. Simon’s Sound, the Jekyll Sound, and the Cumberland River. Toward the end of the day the engine was overheating and our charts were at odds with reality. Charts are very comforting when they correspond with the land and water around the boat, but discomforting when they influence the boater to direct the boat toward shallow water and run aground in a 20-knot breeze and choppy seas. (As Eric is reading this, he is thinking, “You should know by now that “the map is not the territory.”) At any rate, Sam helped me sort it out, and we docked in Florida before 5:00 PM. Fernandina Beach has tasteful architecture, a charming business district, a foul-smelling paper mill, and the nearest grocery store is three miles away.

Budgie's Grudge

2006-11-12T13:58:00.000-05:00

My flighty little life has changed a lot recently, and I can’t say it helps to hear all about the fun my human, Annie Durbin is having without me. As I understand it (I know my brain is only the size of a grain of rice), I am taking up temporary residence with my human’s sister’s family. I am more than a little concerned about this because there are little humans who are only gently scolded when they bang on my cage.
My new roost is actually not so bad, after all I am being fed more regularly, my water is changed before it is stale, and I needn’t compete with loud voices nearly so often as before. Actually, I am more in need of a little romantic advice. There is this bird, she’s pretty good looking, nice breast, and not to puff my plume, looks an awful like yours truly. The problem? Well, I’m banging my head against the cage to get near her, cooing and chirping and purring, but she stays so close but so far away. I guess I should just forget her (to tell the truth, I don’t think there’s much personality there…she just mirrors my every move).
Ah, me. How I long to be following in the talon prints of my forefathers and ride on the shoulder of a worthy captain. Imagine my squawk when I overheard that Annie and her family are at sea, and without a domestic bird, no less. If they are content with just spotting ospreys and eagles, that’s fine… but who could have been there to cheer them up with his happy cheeping when the squall rocks their vessel, who could have been there to carefully pick clean the captain’s beard, who could have been there to realize the name “poop deck” ? Me, that’s who.
Well, I guess all I can do is attempt to feather my nest playing the “boarded pet” card and hope Annie brings me back some nice Cuban cigar-tree seeds or some Mexican “magic beans”.

Tiny Dancer on the ICW

2006-11-07T16:40:00.000-05:00

A few days before leaving Toledo we had a nice dinner with George and Kathy Schoonmaker and George’s big question about the planned trip was, “But what are you going to DO?”
I think George wondered how we will fill up the hours of the days for the next several months. Will there be days when we are so bored that we just stay in bed, read romance novels, and eat Fig Newtons?
In fact, there is much to do and the days pass very quickly. For instance, we must always know where we are and which way to point the boat. One of us must then steer the boat in that direction; the boat must be kept in good working order; meals must be prepared; dishes washed; laundry done; Annie must be reminded to finish her book report or algebra assignment. Some of those tasks take much longer on a boat than they do at home (laundry alone takes a few of our hours).
On the other hand, more time is freed up. We watch no television, so we have much more time to read, play games and bond.
While steering, I enjoy listening to the radio. If a traveler in North Carolina presses the auto-tune button, there is a fifty percent chance of connecting to country music, about a 25% chance of hitting a rock/pop oldies station, about a 10% chance of hearing a very earnest Baptist pastor, and we’ve always been able to find National Public Radio. Most of the NPR feature stories during the past two weeks have insisted that in today’s election the Republicans are bound to lose control of the House, Senate, Supreme Court, and the Universe because President Bush is so stupid (not smart like so many liberal New Yorkers).
If I got tired of hearing that story over and over, I could turn to one of the oldies stations and discover that CCR’s “ Bad Moon Risin’” is just as popular in North Carolina as it is in Toledo (even though John Fogerty is now receiving Social Security benefits). But the favorite tune on the Carolina Coast (based on a very unscientific survey) is Elton John’s version of “Tiny Dancer” and I enjoyed the first 5-6 times I heard it in the past three days, but I woke at 5:00 this morning with the words “hold me closer tiny dancer; count the headlights on the highway...” running through my head (it’s a weird song). I quickly reached over and turned on the radio (to get “Tiny Dancer” out of my head) and it began to quietly play, “I see a bad moon a’ risin’”.
There are also continual new sights on the near horizon, which moving at six knots we have plenty of time to enjoy. We see a wealth of animal life along the ICW. Dolphins have become common, but still a pleasure (they seem ignorant of the Flipper dialect and never respond when we squeak and click at them). We’ve seen deer and goats grazing along the banks and many birds: abundant Great Egrets, a Cattle Egret, Louisiana Herons, a Royal Tern, a Little Blue Heron, many Osprey fishing, increasing numbers of Brown Pelicans and quite a few birds we couldn’t identify.
Aside from other duties, Sam studies calculus in preparation for his next semester of engineering classes.
Annie wishes me to include that she spends much time cooking and washing dishes for the family, and Sam adds that she should spend more time and effort on these tasks.
So the days pass quickly; we’re in South Carolina now and should make Charleston in a couple of days.

Lovely Days in the Dismal Swamp 11/2

2006-11-02T16:19:00.000-05:00

The trip has changed once again now that we’ve entered the Intracoastal (not Intercoastal as I previously wrote) Waterway (ICW). Instead of sailing, we must motor now (bad), but the waterway is very protected, so the weather can scarcely slow us down (very good). As luck would have it we’ve enjoyed stunning weather the past three days -- clear skies, warm temperatures, low humidity.
The Dismal Swamp canal is enclosed by two locks and borders a wildlife refuge. This is one of the lovliest areas so far. As the accompanying photos suggest, we seem to have caught up with with some of the southern boating migration. Every boat we encounter is destined for Florida, the Bahamas, or farther down in the Carribean, and our Cal 33 is typically the smallest (and least expensive) boat about.
The folks are all very friendly and helpful. Mary Ann met a lady in a marina laundry room who, almost immediately, offered us the use of her car to run for groceries and propane.
The ICW seems largely bounded by undeveloped land, much of it saltwater marsh. We frequently see pelicans, osprey, eagles, and Wednesday morning on the Neuse River we encounered a pod (12, maybe more) of dolphins, the first dolphins of the trip.
Later that day the engine overheated due to a defective thermostat. Luckily, a marina in Oriental, NC, had the right thermostat in stock, so we limped into Oriental and replaced the coolant and thermostat Wednesday afternoon. I can’t tell you how quickly Sam seems to undersand and resolve these minor mechanical problems. Frankly, Annie has been no help as a diesel mechanic, but she did prepare a a fried rice dish (including rice, chicked, cashews, and peas) that evening which we all enjoyed and appreciated.
Oriental is a favorite ICW stop which has just about everything sailors need: marine gear, repair facilities, food, used books, overpriced coffee, restauants, and several bars. Mary Ann and I have decided to celebrate our thirtieth anniversary a couple of days early, have a nice dinner and spent the night ashore after spending five weeks straight sleeping aboard the boat.
So far harmony reigns, and Annie is still learning algebra.

In the Wake of Washington

2006-10-29T08:43:00.000-05:00

After a rough passage to Baltimore, weather remained very windy and stormy on the Chesapeake Bay. It has taken us nearly a week to make it as far south as Norfolk, VA, although the winds have been generally behind us. As we sailed fast across the mouth of the Potomac we considered how many times George Washington and other luminaries (such as Teddy Kennedy) have sailed through the same waters.
We have been seeing Brown Pelicans while out on the water, the occasional eagle, and jelly fish are now common. Annie is able to take out the dingy by herself and has been collecting and identifying shells.
We tend to start early to make the most of the light, and around dawn on Thursday while departing the Great Wicomico River, a (possible Savannah) sparrow landed on the boat and took up a sheltered residence in the dorade (wind scoop). He stayed there for a half hour and wasn’t troubled by our use of lines and sails. We’ve had a few other hitchhikers onboard, but the sparrow knew just where to go to get out of the wind.
Thursday was our best day of sailing on the Chesapeake Bay, a clear, warm day,15 knots on our starboard quarter, and 1-2 foot waves most of the day.
We finally left the Chesapeake on Friday and stopped in Norfolk due to a passing weather system. The U.S. Navy base is the largest naval facility in the world. We liked what we saw of the town, and they are working on downtown development and putting up many attractive mermaid statues.
After lunch on Saturday we walked along the water front parks and toured the mothballed U.S.S. Wisconsin. The Wisconsin, which is nearly 900’ long and weighs over 57,000 tons, carries 16” guns which can send a 2,700 lb. shell 23 miles. The ship actually carried spotter sea planes which were launched by catapult from the after deck and flew up to spot where the ships shells were landing.
We attended mass at the Basilica of St. Mary of the Immaculate Conception near downtown Norfolk. The church was predominately black, the music great, and the sign of peace went on for several minutes. The pastor was Kenyan and his accent was fairly thick. I believe the homily had to do with Stevie Wonder and someone Jesus healed (not Stevie).
Today on to the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) south.

Upper Chesapeake and Baltimore 10/20 - 10/23

2006-10-24T07:28:00.000-04:00

We spent our first night on the Chesapeake Bay in a protected anchorage, Ordinary Point, on the Susquehanna River. At dusk Sam gave Annie a lesson on starting the outboard engine and steering the dingy. We enjoyed a clear, mild, quiet evening in the cockpit fishing and sipping coffee.
A bit of a rough trip to Baltimore he next day. The weather forecast was for 15-20 knot winds out the south, gusts to 25 knots, waves 2-3 feet. As soon as we turned west, the wind began blowing out of the west and building in force. We motored into Baltimore into 30-40 knot winds with 6-9 foot waves. Not much fun.
Baltimore, however, was great fun. We tied up in the Inner Harbor just before the celebration of Flugtag (flying day?) began. On Saturday morning many tugboats paraded through the harbor blowing loud horns, firing cannons and spraying water 100 feet into the air. They were followed by many other colorful craft including antique steam-powered launches.
The main event of Flutag was a series of attempted flights on home-made aircraft by rolling them off a 30 foot ramp over the water of the Inner Harbor. To cut this short, none of the planes flew; they all crashed into the bay. But the crowd on tens of thousands who seemed to have been drinking quantities of Red Bull (and maybe beer), loved the whole show.
Our highlight of the day was the visit by Sarah, Judi, Anne, and Anne’s son, Jamal. After visiting at the dock Jamal generously treated us all to lunch at a nice bayside restaurant, the Rusty Scupper. The scallops were excellent; the Asian barbecued salmon was fantastic. We then toured the National Aquarium, spent more time drinking coffee and talking on the boat. Great days, unfortunately, pass too quickly.
We are so grateful to Sarah, Judi, Anne for driving to Baltimore for lunch.

Cape May Canal, Delaware Bay, and the C & D Canal 10/18-10/19

2006-10-22T16:35:00.000-04:00

Before we started this trip, I was most concerned (based on material read) about the trip along the New Jersey coast and the journey up the Delaware Bay. Well, this morning those are both behind us and we ae probably half way to The Bahamas.
We started at 8:30 Wednesday morning and motored nervously under the lowest fixed bridge on our trip (55 feet) and then proceeded through the Cape May Canal, entering the Delaware Bay. The Bay was foggy with rollers coming in off the Atlantic rolling the boat moderately. The conditions smoothed out, the fog burned off and we moved slowly north into the tidal current most of the day.
We arrived at the entrance of the Chesapeake and Delaware (C & D ) Canal just as the sun set and started against another, and very strong, tidal current. The C & D connects the Delaware Bay with the Chesapeake and allows boats and ships to avoid a long passage (200 miles) outside in the Atlantic.
We were heading for an anchorage 10 miles up the very clearly marked canal at Chesapeake City. We were almost there and I thought I could see a city ahead. I had just raised my binoculars when the “city” I was examining blew a loud horn. The “city” suddenly assumed the shape of an 800 foot freighter covered with white lights. I zigged farther to the side and we passed clearly.
I share this anecdote even though it will strengthen my brother, Eric’s belief in my basic incompetence. The lesson? Stay alert at night and if a city seems to be moving, give it a wide berth.
This morning Mary Ann and I are sitting in the cockpit in the Chesapeake City Anchorage watching the cormorants and herons fish.
I strikes me that some of you may not have an atlas with you as you read this, so I’m including a small map above) illustrating our last four days travel.

The Unforgiving North Atlantic 10/13- 10/14

2006-10-22T16:29:00.000-04:00

The New Jersey Coast has not been horrible, but the weather forecasting has been. Light westerly breezes were forecast for both Friday and Saturday, but reality was strong winds from the south, on our nose. On Saturday we took some pounding with 5-7 foot seas and some scary offshore shoals near Little Egg Inlet. We also saw our first brown pelican which seems to us like a southern bird.
The next morning we attended a beautiful mass at St. Nicholas Church in Atlantic City near the Trump Taj Mahal casino complex. I skipped gambling (money is going fast enough as it is), but later on when out for a walk with Sam, Mary Ann put all the money she had, a quarter, in a slot machine, lost, and quit.
We anchored Sunday night and started for the last of our New Jersey stops, Cape May , twenty minutes before dawn. Sam was at the helm when the sun rose over a smooth sea and a perfectly blue sky. No wind, but we motored south in comfort; the boat steered herself, but I held he wheel for the sake of appearances.
The food continues to be good; in Cape May we enoyed some very fresh flounder, couscous, and broiled veggies.

Hey! from Annie

2006-10-16T14:01:00.000-04:00

Oh my goodness, New York was so fun. We went yesterday. We ate at this very cool restaurant, Benehanas. The table we sat at had a grill in the table and the chef cooked right there. I got filet mignon. Earlier that day Mom had her picture taken with the statue of liberty (their should be a photo), but I was buying a hoodie so I didn’t get mine taken.
Just today I caught a crab! We had a fish net and just scooped it up. I almost had a heart attack it was allot of fun.
-Annie D. (for Durbin and Depp)

Wading through the Big Apple 10/11

2006-10-15T14:00:00.000-04:00

We took the ferry over to Manhattan Island Wednesday morning about 10 AM and spent the early part of the day visiting Ground Zero, the Battery, Castle Clinton,St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Rockafeller Plaza and Central Park. At 3:30 it started raining and rained continually the rest of the day. We spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to stay dry and visiting the Museum of Natural History. The highlight of the day was dinner at Benehana’s with Jonah and Kim. We last saw Jonah, Mary Ann’s sister Kathy’s oldest son, when he was a teenager learning to drive Judi’s stick shift.; now he’s 33, a rabbi and an attorney. They are an attractive, charming couple expecting their first baby this winter. The meal was excellent and Jonah surprised us by insisting on picking up the check. I protested for seven or eight seconds, and Mary Ann suggested later that I gave in too quickly, that I should have argued for another ten seconds or so. It was nonetheless, an excellent meal and then Jonah went down with us to stand in the rain for ten minutes to flag down a taxi. We hope o see Jonah and Kim on the way back north next May.

2006-10-12T17:09:00.000-04:00

Greetings, Peregrine!

Your blog is beautiful. The pictures are crisp and colorful. Please tell us more about your visit to NYC. Mike, was it as unpleasant as you imagined? Today, in Toledo, we enjoyed blustery winds and snow showers. I was glad to hear that you were enjoying "unseasonably warm weather and blue skies."

Read Soon,
Landlubber

Sailing into the Big Apple 10/10

2006-10-12T12:04:00.000-04:00

The two days on the Hudson river fairly flew by, especially this afternoon when we had he outgoing tide with us. The boat speedometer read 7.0 knots through the water, but sine the current was 2.5 3 knots, we were really moving towards New York at 9.5-9.8 knots.
The mountains and the palisades (300-500 foot walls of columnar basalt) were spectacular. Around noon we passed West Point .
The water between Manhattan Island and New Jersey was extremely choppy due to the tide running against opposing winds and the incessant traffic of ferries and water taxies,; we we're arriving just at rush hour.
The weather, however, was unseasonably warm, skies blue, and for the first time on our trip we are running south!
We’ll stay here for a couple of days and then brave the North Atlantic along the New Jersey coast.

The First Week of Mary Ann's Excellent Adventure

2006-10-08T21:01:00.000-04:00

Whew! We finally arrived in the Hudson River. I don’t mean to sound as if the first week was grueling, because it was not. I say that because the last day on the canal required some diligence as we navigated 9 locks (5 right at the very end taking 1.5 hours) and to make sure we turned right at Waterford, NY into the Hudson which was very wide and contained many very old bridges. The Erie Canal was simply beautiful. It was all I envisioned it to be. The trees were brilliant on the hillsides. I never took a trip to New England in the fall, but now I can say I went across the state of New York via the Erie Canal to see the lovely fall colors. The few times I walked into a nearby town, I felt like Sissy Spacek’s character in “Tuck Everlasting” because in our boat the pace is so much slower and I wasn’t exactly dressed to impress. The canal is ripe with fascinating American history. We read a great book as we traveled through the many towns and locks, 34 in all, allowing us to drop about 600 feet since leaving Tonawanda, NY.

All my lady friends are probably wondering how I’ve been feeding my family. How does Potato Frittata sound with glazed carrots made with all fresh ingredients? Or chicken stew and corn bread made with fresh ingredients except the canned Brinkman’s chicken and Green Giant canned peas? Thanks to Roberta we enjoyed bow-tie pasta and marinara sauce. Breakfasts have included cream of wheat, eggs and pancakes and homemade granola so far. Sam really loves pancakes. Lunches have been egg salad, tuna melts, soups and lunch meat.

Today we walked up the hill right behind the marina to attend mass at Sacred Heart Church, Fr. Thomas Krupa presiding. They had a wonderful choir. I’ve made a promise to introduce ourselves to every priest and say a family rosary for him and his intentions.

We are spending our second night at Castelton Boat Club. Last night we heard coyotes howling, just like on TV! Now I know we have coyotes in NWOhio but I have never heard coyotes howl except on trips out west. Who would have suspected 110 miles north of NYC we would hear their eerie cries? Our mast went up this afternoon along with most of the rigging. It is good to see our Peregrine as I first got to know her this summer, although I was getting used to walking on deck around the supine mast supported by wooden cradles. The sunset tonight was lovely.

I have thought of my mom so often this past week. When I went to buy a postcard at Niagara Falls, she was the first person I went to pick a card out for. She would have loved to hear all about our adventure. And I have thought of all of you, too. All my colleagues at Hospice of Northwest Ohio: I think of you daily. Julian- I saw a restaurant called “Julian’s”. Sandy- I saw a woman who looked just like you! All my Regnum Christi sisters: I have been keeping up with my new prayer commitments (well, mostly). Barb- thank you for the book, “My Daily Catholic Bible”.

I hope to write again in a week...Mary Ann

A Foggy Friday Morning on the Canal 10/6

2006-10-08T10:01:00.000-04:00

Sam and I were up early and motoring slowly through the fog, temperature 38 degrees. We spent the day moving downhill toward the sea. We traveled on the canalized Mohawk River, so that instead of a straight ditch, we enjoyed a gently curving river with, what Ohioans would call, low, forested mountains rising up from the shore.
We passed through one of the deepest locks in the world today, 41 feet. Bird sightings included: many greater black-backed gulls, hooded mergansers, egrets, and osprey.

Lake Oneida to Ilion, NY 10/5

2006-10-08T09:56:00.000-04:00

We left Brewerton, NY shortly after dawn motoring east across Lake Oneida. A perfectly clear sky, air temperature of 43 degrees, and a northerly breeze necessitated wearing most of my clothes at the helm. We locked up twice to gain some altitude over this part of the Appalachians, but it’s all downhill from here. We passed a tour boat which took up about 75% of the canal width, but we don’t need much space. We sited more eagles, osprey, and greater black-backed gulls on Lake Oneida.
Annie is keeping up with her home schooling; Friday she takes tests in algebra, spelling and over the skeletal system.

Greetings from Annie

2006-10-02T21:15:00.000-04:00

Hey, whoever you are, this is Annie. I'm 13 and living in a boat until June. Last Saturday, my dad and brother took off, but I decided to stay with my sister for a week before I leave. I'm having lots of fun playing with my niece and nephew. I have to be home schooled and it stinks but what am I gunna do? The cool thing is that I'm going to the Bahamas. I can't wait to meet up with my dad in Buffalo along with my Mom. Then we will sail along the coast until we get to the Bahamas. I'm so excited. I wish I was in Toledo, though, with my friends, but whatever. I'll get back to you when I'm on the boat.
- Annie

Mary Ann, Sarah and Annie Arrive 9/30 -10/1

2006-10-02T21:07:00.000-04:00

Sam and I spent Saturday cleaning and lashing down the mast, bimini and big sailbags on deck. Then we pumped out (the holding tank) and found a dock on the canal next to a park.

Mary Ann, Sarah, and Annie got to the boat at about 6:30 PM and we enjoyed dinner on the boat and catching up. I hadn’t seen Mary Ann or Annie for about 10 days.
After morning mass, we breakfasted at the Towpath Cafe (French toast great, sourdough pancakes made with very sour dough). We then visited Niagara Falls (10 miles away), an amazing spectacle, before taking off this afternoon for Lockport, NY. We’ll all miss Sarah very much.
On the Erie Canal we are enjoying a beautiful, cool, fall day. Much of the canal is undeveloped with aspen trees growing naturally along the banks and aster blooming beneath.
Everybody wants to steer the boat right now; I hope that will still be true in a month. We’ll be traveling through some Erie Canal locks later.

Against the Wind, we’re older now but still runnin’ . . . 9/28-29

2006-10-02T20:50:00.001-04:00

Thursday was a pretty nice day except for the wind in our face, the cold weather, and the continual rain. After motorsailing for nine hours right into it, we bid farewell to Lake Erie and greeted Buffalo, N.Y.
I can’t tell you much about Buffalo; we didn’t stay long, but the people were friendly and the neighborhood we docked in seems to be far into decay. Demolishing crumbling buildings must be a big issue and that neighborhood was largely deserted, by humans at least. Sam and I went out for a walk after dinner and we surprised a herd of 12-15 white tail deer. They stampeded away from us bu when a truck left the marina, they stampeded back toward us.
On Friday we made it down the Black Rock Canal, stopped car traffic on two bridges when the bridge operators let us through; I’m sure the motorists were happy to wait for a passing sailboat. We’re so darn picturesque! Then we passed through our first lock. I’m extremely grateful the taxpayers are supporting all these bridges and locks or we’d never get to the Bahamas.
About 4:00 PM the mast came down (in a controlled way). Marina owner, Mr. Wardell ran the crane; Sam and I did all the work, then we paid him $250 for running his crane (which smoked all the time and stalled frequently). Nevertheless we sleep on the Erie Canal tonight and Mary Ann and Annie join us tomorrow for the real start of the trip.

Another Day Another State -- Barcelona, NY 9/27

2006-10-02T20:32:00.000-04:00

Fast sailing again with a strong SSW breeze pushing us up the coast another 30 miles. Skies were blue, but the somewhat uncomfortable winds blew 15-20 knots all day, gusting to 30 knots therefore we stopped a bit early.
Barcelona is a lovely little port set between empty beaches backed by 40 foot sandstone and shale cliffs continuing as far as the eye can see. Streams form tiny waterfalls on the rock and trickle into the big lake.
Early start tomorow; we may see Buffalo and bid farewell to Lake Erie!

Motoring to Presque Isle, PA 9/26

2006-10-02T20:28:00.001-04:00

Tuesday contrasted greatly from our Monday experience (thank heaven). The day dawned cool and cloudless with almost no breeze, so we motor-sailed most of the day. The Lake was almost flat and the ride smooth, so we made another 60 miles to Presque Isle (Erie, PA). Due calm conditions we hardly had to touch the wheel and filled the time with a Patrick O’Brian novel, cleaning and boat chores.
Presque Isle contains an enormous bay surrounded by a state park and the longest beach I can remember seeing.

Motoring to Presque Isle, PA 9/26

2006-10-02T20:28:00.000-04:00

Fast Sailing to Fairport Harbor 9/25

2006-10-02T20:23:00.000-04:00

We raised anchor before 7:00 A.M. with hope of better conditions and all omens were positive. A more moderate breeze was blowing, waves 2-3 feet, as we left Kelleys Island sailing toward the rising sun.
We continued sailing toward the sun past Huron, Vermillion, and Rocky River. We saluted the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, in Cleveland at about 3:00 P.M. , and conditions soon after began to change. The winds freshened to 20-25 knots out of the west, and before reaching Fairport Harbor the larger waves had built to 7-9 feet. We took them directly on our stern, so Peregrine didn’t rock and roll too much, but as we have rarely seen such conditions before, the last few hours resulted in much exhilaration and a few moments of terror. We screamed into the entrance of Fairport Harbor at 7 knots, flying only a scrap of jib sail with one wave after another crashing on the windward breakwall; we were damp and relieved at the moment and aching in the morning. We had sailed more than 80 miles in 13 hours the most ever for us.

Depature and Put-in-Bay 9/23-9/24

2006-10-02T20:17:00.000-04:00

Sarah, Judi and cousin Anne all came down to the marina (with some fresh doughnuts) to see us off. This was most appreciated.

Sam and I left Bolles Harbor, MI in the very damp foggy morning and sailed east on a gentle breeze to Put-in-Bay where we joined the Jolly Roger Sailing Club Bash to the Bay. Although we are former members of Jolly Roger, Bill Owens and the others club members there welcomed us very cordially.
After mass Sunday morning, we left with high hopes and strong SW winds, unfortunately too strong. The winds built to moderate gale force, about 30 knots with 5-8 foot seas, so we took shelter on the lee side of Kelley’s Island where we anchored.
The forecast calls for continued 25-35 knot winds and 6-9 foot waves, so we’ll say where we are for the night and continue tomorrow. The forecast is for 10-15 knot winds from the west, so it could be almost anything.

Visiting the Harolds

2006-09-21T23:46:00.000-04:00

Still four days before Sam and I sail east, so we drove to Steubenville for a short visit with daughter, Rachel, son-in-law, Phil, and grandchildren, Edy and Max. These are extremely bright and charming children (as you can probably judge from the above photo (photography by Sam Durbin).
At the park this afternoon Edy decided to instruct me on the topic "plants".
"Which plants don't you know about?"
"I don't know which plants I don't know about," I answered.
"O.K., poison ivy . Wear long pants and sleeves and don't scratch when it itches."
" I see; how many leaves does it have?"
"Twenty", she stated confidently.
I suspect she'll be a science teacher or a poker player.

Plans for the Cruise

2006-09-21T21:12:00.000-04:00

At this writing, Sam and I will leave early on 9/23 from Bolles Harbor, Michigan enroute to Buffalo, New York. We can’t afford to dally so one week is planned for this trip. The Erie Canal (New York Barge Canal) runs about 340 miles to the Hudson river at Troy, NY. Due to the height of fixed bridges, we will lower the mast in Buffalo and motor most of the way across New York state. We’ll raise the mast and become a sail boat again on the Hudson. (the above photo shows Mike(left), Annie, Sarah, Mary Ann, and Sam) Then we’ll sail three days down the Hudson to New York City where we’ll take a break, see the sights, and visit Yonah and Kim.
After leaving N.Y.C., we must sail the Atlantic 119 miles down the New Jersey coast. This will be our first extended ocean sailing, but we hope to accomplish it in a 24-hour period to Cape May. Then we traverse the Cape May canal to the Delaware Bay for a day sail to the C&D canal and on to the Chesapeake Bay.
We hope to visit cousin Jamal in Baltimore and make a stop in Annapolis during this segment as well as enjoy tranquil autumn anchorages. A week should bring us to Norfolk , Virginia, and the start of the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) which will carry us through the Carolinas, Georgia, and into Florida. I’ve read that the draw bridges cause long delays, so once south of Cape Hatteras we hope to make some coastal passages in the Atlantic to save time and discover any tendencies toward motion sickness.
We can’ t accurately estimate when we’ll arrive in Florida, but hope to sail across the Gulf Stream from West Palm Beach to Grand Bahama Island in late November, well after the last hurricane. Then the itinerary is dependent upon weather and inclination. We’ll probably spend December in the Abacos and make our way south in short sails to Nassau, Eleuthra, and the Exumas. Sam will return to his studies at the University of Toledo after Christmas and we hope Sarah will join us soon after and sail back north by early June. We’re looking forward to an 18-month boating season this year.

Preparation for Departure

2006-09-21T20:50:00.000-04:00

Honestly, preparations for departure started eight or nine months ago when we began a serious for the boat which would carry us on an extended cruise. The ‘87 Cal 33 cost us less than a moderate SUV, was very well-maintained by the previous owner, but still required substantial work and expense to prepare. We also purchased an eight-foot dingy and a 2 1/2 hp Mercury outboard. Top speed for the dingy is about 5 1/2 knots (which for sailors doesn’t seem especially slow).
The Cal, named Peregrine, is beamy for its length with surprising space below decks. The draft is only 4’ 8”, which should serve well in he shallow waters of The Bahamas banks. Mary Ann and I will share the forward cabin; Annie has taken the aft berth (with privacy curtain), and Sam has the main salon with pullout double berth. The head is equipped with a hand-held shower, but we carry only 50 gal. of fresh water. Conditions below will require great consideration for, and patience with, the other crew members.
Eight months away from home has required substantial planning. We plan to eat most of our meals on board, so Mary Ann and I have been shopping bargains and stocking up. We’ve already stored several hundred pounds of: canned goods, pasta, rice, juice, cereal, and Diet Pepsi on board. Since we expect to be near stores most of the time, we can restock as we go along, but prices in The Bahamas are reputed to be much higher (perhaps 50% more) than in the States.
Except for various charters in Alaska, Florida, and the Chesapeake, all of our sailing has been in Lake Erie, so this trip represents a radical departure from our comfort zone. I think I now own the cruising guides and chart books we need, but we are sure to encounter new challenges every day. A disquieting fact, but how many chances for adventure do we get.

This is Land Lubber

2006-09-13T18:26:00.000-04:00

Hey, Peregrine! I'll be watching for updates on your cruise. Good luck!