I used to use Gates, but now I've been using Dayco Topcog belts that are
sold at Advance. They were recommended as better, and certainly seem
tougher.
BTW, you aren't using the Gates belt with Kevlar are you ? I tried them once
resulting in rapid, repeat failure. From a call to Gates I learned that if
any sheave is below a certain diameter, kevlar reinforced belts will not
last.

"Skip Gundlach" wrote in message
ups.com...
October 30 - Aground again, Naturally (a riff on a 60's song)...

Well, NOAA has done us in, again. Here we are, anchored just shy
of our goal, again. And, another lovely dinner before a cold bed,
as "seasonal weather" has revisited the Chesapeake, and it's
frost warnings, tonight (well, last night, from when you see
this).

When we left you, we were thinking of going to Cambridge, instead
of going for Solomons Island. We did, indeed make that choice,
and took a short ride to Cambridge. Before that, however, we had
to get up the anchors.

What a gooey mess the bottom was there in front of Schooner's in
Oxford. No wonder we dragged the first time. There must have been
a foot of black, fine, mud on the Delta, and, of course, with as
much as we had out, the chain had lain on the bottom for quite a
while as well, therefore carrying up its own load of goo.
However, our second anchor was much the same story, and the way
our windlass is set up, required semi-hand raising its extra-long
chain and the 75# of anchor on the other end.

That one had set very hard, and not only was difficult to break
free, it brought up its own load of junk. Despite very careful
and aggressive hosing, both chains would prove to retain lots of
the mud, flaking off as it was deployed the next time. In any
case, we set sail about 12:30 for Cambridge. Oops.

Another fan belt failure. That one lasted all of a couple of
days. Quick, throw out the anchor in deep water, so put out lots
of chain, and dive into the engine room, yet again. However, I'm
getting pretty adept at this by now, and we're under way again in
short order. Another lovely sail results, and we shortly pull up
to the entrance to Cambridge. Tom, another internet buddy, who
lives between Oxford and Cambridge, has filled me in on our means
of staying in town.

Cambridge is a lovely town, like all the rest we have been in
along the Chesapeake, and the seat of Dorchester County, MD.
Their municipal building fronts on the little bay off the
Choptank River, and alongside there are cleats, with signs saying
one should dock at their own risk, for up to 48 hours.

There were already a couple of trawlers and a sailboat there when
we arrived, but we had plenty of space to pull in ahead of the
sailboat. Lydia's lassooing move on the cleat was a perfect shot,
and she snubbed that connection. I stern-walked in to allow her
to tie off the rest of the way.

It was an unusually high tide; Tom had been concerned for how
much water we would have alongside. However, we found it to be
quite deep, at least according to our depth finder, and we were
comfortable with being there. Tom was kind enough to give a ride
to a quickie shopping trip for prescriptions, groceries, the
hardware store and NAPA, for yet more fan belts (about 8 or 10, I
think, since we left Charleston). I need to buy stock in Gates!

Anyway, the following day we went on a walking tour, enjoying the
city immensely. I'll let Lydia's log fill in all the touristy
bits, but we had a lovely time and met the usual assortment of
animals and people. One, however, was a real hoot, having taken
more than 30 (down from 50) cats to the vet to be neutered, and
they all go on walks with him and his two dogs, said parade
coming by the municipal system each day we were there.

The next day we expected to go to Solomons Island, but the
weather was forecast (see above comment on NOAA, and see below
for more) at 20-25 knots with gusts to 30, and straight behind
us, along with relatively large waves, which would have been very
uncomfortable. So, we decided to stay in Cambridge for another
day. Of course, given NOAA's track record so far (see below), it
might have been a fine day to sail south.

However, high tide in the morning was about 5AM, and not long
after I woke to find more than the usual list (we have a small
persistent port list). Hm. What's that about?? We apparently had
parked on the locally famous "three foot hump" - the only place
on the wall which was so short, and apparently the source of
Tom's concern - and we were - AGAIN - aground.

This time, though, I had no doubt that the rising tide later in
the day would get us off, as it was more than 1.5' higher than
the early tide, and since we weren't going to leave, anyway, if
was of little account. I went back to bed, and relaxed. However,
very quickly, we developed a notable list - eventually to reach
25 degrees. That made getting off the boat a bit challenging.
Fortunately, I have a great stride, and was able to make it off
and back on again after I slacked the lines so as to relieve the
pressure not only on our but the town's cleats.

Eventually, as the boat continued to heel, enough of the bottom
was exposed to show that there was a small area that had
accumulated barnacles. That was irritating, in that it was all
very newly applied bottom paint, and there should have been no
barnacles whatsoever - and not much slime, either. The slime
wasn't there - but there were certainly barnacles.

So, at low tide, I took a deck brush and crushed them, and then
scraped them and finally scrubbed them off. Thanks, Cambridge,
for making that possible! In the meantime, though, we'd attracted
quite a crowd, what with the very unusual attitude (they don't
often see a mast at that angle!), and every time one dispersed,
another gathered. It's how we learned of the "three foot hump" -
and all were very anxious to help in any way possible. It
probably sounded very brave for us to keep declining help, but
since we already had our shopping done, and our touring done, and
weren't going to leave until the next day, there really wasn't
much anyone could do!

So, instead we enjoyed the brilliantly sunny day and read our
books and scrubbed the bottom and otherwise behaved like
full-time cruisers. No agenda, no schedule, no itinerary!
Eventually, the tide did, in fact, come up, and we were off. The
trawler which had pulled in to tie up in front of us was
similarly aground, but they had about 8" less draft. They had
settled directly next to the seawall, and were adequately well
cushioned against abrasion - but I can tell you for sure I'm glad
we didn't lean the other way! Standing up relatively vertically
is nicer, but it would have been a great deal of abrasion until
it stabilized. Anyway, our plan was to anchor out for the night,
as the next day would present much the same issue, but even lower
water as we migrated from the full moon.

However, our anchoring misadventures continued. After trying and
failing 4 or 5 times to get a secure set in the area in front of
where we had been, we opted to go for the now-open slip at the
other end of the wall, where we were assured it was much deeper.
However, when we were tied up, it looked much the same on our
depth finders as where we'd just left. The falling tide would
treat us just the same as last night, and as we did, now, want to
leave in the morning, that would be a distinct inconvenience!

However, nearby was a waterfront restaurant with a couple of
slips. Hm. Wonder what they do with them? A quickie ask got a
lovely offer of free space if we came to dinner. So, we quickly
put our almost-on-the-table dinner aside and berthed at the
restaurant. A lovely dinner followed, and it was the least
expensive meal out we've enjoyed since Lydia's mom (our
benefactor) joined us. We were cautioned not to tie into the
shorepower, that being reserved for paying guests, but as to do
so would have required much digging in the lazarette to get to
the shorepower cord, and we were "full", it was of no issue
whatever. We did, though, take advantage of the water connection
to fill our leak-emptied tanks, in the gathering cold.

A late-night check of the most current forecast showed nearly
ideal conditions for our run down to Solomons Island. North to NE
10-15, moving to W in the evening/night hours, and diminishing.
We'd be either running or broad reaching, and enough wind that we
might use a poled-out genny and prevented main, or maybe even the
spinnaker, if it proved a bit lighter (on the 10 side). I
calculated that our trip should take about 5 hours, tops. Early
the next morning, the reports were the same. And, in fact,
throughout the day, as we listened in disbelief, they continued,
all the way to our anchorage.

What happened was that our way out, a very tight pinch, started
about 10:30, and was pretty much as advertised, other than the
wind being a bit light and also fluky. I attributed that to being
behind the land mass during our transit of the Choptank, and
expected it to pick up and solidify once we reached the bay.

Fat chance. It slowly died, to the point where, by the time we
reached the bay, there was nearly none. As the day wore on, the
waters flattened, and we were motoring at a pace which created a
slight headwind. Once again, NOAA comes through! If the forecast
had been similarly off (way low, in both sea state and wind) the
day before, it would have been a wonderful trip down in brilliant
sunlight. So, aside from the fact that we had to motor most of
it, and that we didn't make the speed we'd anticipated, it was a
brilliant day, and toasty in the enclosure around the cockpit.

Oh, ya. So, also as has become our custom, around 4:30, Lydia
alerts me to nasty noise coming from the engine room. This time
we caught it before it fully disintegrated, but, once again, we
were in alternator belt failure mode. The belt had shed a section
of the top, and was inverted in the tracks. It would shortly fly
off if left alone, but we stopped the engine, and as you've seen
above, I had the new belt on in short order this time, too. This
one is a different type; with any luck it will hold up better
than our previous supposedly best-of-breed we've been using.
Nothing could be worse; if I don't get satisfaction on these,
I'll prolly just start using the cheapest I can find. But, I
digress. Our slight delay, combined with the insult of a weather
forecast as compared to reality, has caused us to miss our window
into Solomons' Back Creek before dark.

So, as has become our custom (finding someplace to throw out the
hook, short of our objective), we anchored out off Drum Point, in
an area which was pretty broad and relatively shallow without
being dangerous to shoaling. However, I use the term "anchored" a
bit generically. I don't know what kind of bottom there is, here,
but we could not get a set. Each time, I could feel the chain
bounce as the anchor slid and bounced over whatever hard stuff
there was down there, feeling like stones against my hand.
However, the good news was that the winds were still very light,
and forecast (HAH!) for being even lighter, and better, from the
area of the land mass, protecting us, but should we slide, taking
us away from shore. So, as it involves a lengthy retrieval, I
reluctantly double-anchored, again. My expectation is that our
130# of anchors, as well as the-about-300# of chain are all that
are holding us from moving - but, it's doing that, at least.

We stayed put, comfortably, with our anchor chains hanging
straight down in the very light wind, and, while it was getting
very chilly (55 in the cabin at 7AM), even our accommodation was
entirely comfortable. As usual, the ladies slept in, but as we
had only about 4 miles to go (so near, yet so far!), I let them,
and finished this :{)) As I write at 10, the wind has piped all
the way up to 4 knots - it's mostly been between 0-2.

We'll be anchored in Back Creek later today in what is described
as conditions similar to Spa Creek in Annapolis. That is to say,
crowded, but very do-able, and as the controlling depth there is
about 8 feet, won't require a great deal of scope, thus limiting
the swing. We'll do more shopping, particularly at NAPA, and
enjoy the area. From here we'll again head south, in a few days,
likely calling at Deltaville and perhaps another one or two
locations before heading to Norfolk, thence down the ICW to
Beaufort.

Stay tuned for further adventures.


L8R

Skip

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
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(and)
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its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
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