At 6 this morning we were about 28 miles off Cape Island/Cape Romain,
enroute to our waypoint off Cape Fear, in about 100 feet of water.

Cape Fear has the famous "Frying Pan Shoals" - origin of which I'm not
certain, other than that it sticks out a great long way into the
Atlantic.
Since we're headed to Beaufort (unless we change our mind, of course),
which
is further up the coast, we'll give Cape Fear a good miss.

We left at about 6:30PM yesterday, attending to the various little
things
which had cropped up preventing us from feeling comfortable in leaving
at
dawn.

Unfortunately, our inverter (the thing which takes battery power and
turns
it into "household" power - the same kind you plug into at home) seems
to
have died. Fortunately, we have a small gasoline generator aboard for
such
times as AC power is needed.

We have not yet nailed down the misbehavior in our engine charging
circuit,
but believe it to be a wire fault leading to the alternator, the thing
which
generates the electricity when the engine's running. We'll trace that
out
when we're next anchored for a while, but in the meantime, we have a
workaround that suffices, and the alternator does very well at its
chores.

The other couple of items were successfully dealt with, and we - for
those
of you keeping score :{)) - didn't leave first thing in the morning as
expected. Instead, we took advantage of the circumstance to dinghy in
to the
City Marina facilities to do laundry, buy some gasoline for the
generator,
and splurge ourselves to a lovely brunch while the laundry was doing
its
thing.

Lydia pointed out that in the "Charleston's many delights" post I'd
mentioned another boater whose vessel wasn't quite ready for the sea.
Not going is usually the better idea - we didn't, for over 3 years.
And, of
course, as seen, we didn't go either a few days ago, or even just now,
because we weren't happy with the readiness of the vessel. So, we err
on
the side of caution, and Macy's dad did well to stick it out until
some
issues there were resolved, tool. Like us, he'd recently had the
benefit of
the USCG's services. Usually, that tends to focus one's attention :
{))

After making the decision not to leave at dawn yesterday, but instead
to
attend to the several glitches which had arisen, we'd originally
expected to
leave this morning - but after consideration, realized that we'd
arrive in
Beaufort about dawn, rather than at the end of the day as would have
been
the case in our original plan, and thus, we'd have a much greater
window of
time to allow for arrival times, if we were to leave just before dark.

So, that's what we did. Getting the anchor up proved to be a
surprising
task. Our windlass has always been up to the job, but it was
straining this
time. Applying just a touch of lift at a time, and letting the
bobbing of
the boat help, the anchor seemed stuck just below the surface. A bit
more
of this revealed that there was another anchor and chain attached to
it!
Evidently it had been there for some time, likely being attached to
the
small boat off in the distance, as a fellow anchorage sailor told us
of
their 200' plus line out, and the chain was fully buried in the sand.
I got
it up far enough to get a line around it, supporting it, and dropped
our
anchor from under it. After releasing the other, ours came up without
incident, and we set out for the channel.

The falling tide gave us a boost as we exited the Charleston Harbor.
Except
for a short stretch, we motorsailed it with just the genoa out, and at
times
were making more than 8 knots over the ground with the tide's help.

Dodging the ship traffic, we hurried to the end of the channel, and
set our
main with a single reef and rolled the genoa back out. Forecasts were
for
uniformly light wind (less than 10 knots) and no storm activity, but
with
only one hand on deck at night, it's prudent to reef before it's
needed.

The wind was in a nearly perfect position, directly abeam, and helped
stiffen the boat against the waves rolling us from side to side. As
Lydia'd
slept in the prior morning, she took the first watch.

This would be a test for her, as she didn't take any seasick
prevention.
However, she's felt that she has become acclimated to the sea, and
would be
fine without any assistance.

As it turned out, she was, not coming for relief until nearly 5 AM.
When we
started, the load was minimal, and the wind generator was keeping the
deficit in the batteries to a minimum. However, over the course of
about 10
hours of sailing, the batteries were down to an unacceptable 12.3V,
and the
radar wouldn't light. So, out comes the Honda, as it is quieter and
much
less expensive in wear and tear (and fuel, for that matter) as a
charging
source.

Any time we have an excess of power (the Honda generator makes much
more
power than the shore power charger needs), we plug in all the devices
which
require periodic charging. The computer on which I'm writing, having
been
accidentally left off the power grid when I was using it for a while
yesterday, needed charging, too, so I took advantage of that to sit
for
while :{))

Our radar is set for 24 nautical miles. The typical shipping traffic
is
moving at 15-30 knots, so I check every 15 minutes while I'm at the
keyboard. In 15 minutes, the fastest shipping would move 8 miles or
less, so
that would give us ample warning to pay very close attention.

Meanwhile, Otto (the autopilot) continues his faithful duty, steering
us to
the waypoint off Cape Fear. We should be there by suppertime or
thereabouts.
Meanwhile, as dawn broke, we're in the middle of the very deep blue of
the
North Atlantic. No wonder it's "Navy" blue!

Taking advantage of our electrical surplus, our satellite weather
pictures
are developing. They suggest good weather all the way to our next
stop, as
the apparent rain or cloudiness in that area will have moved on by
then.

The wind continues moderate, but is shifting further south. I'll shake
out
the reef in the main, put up the staysail, and trim it all to take
advantage
of the prevailing wind as well as try to stiffen the boat against the
rollers that swing us from side to side.

The sun will be up fully in short order, and we'll again be without AC
power, as we'll shut down the generator and let Mother Nature provide
us
with our power.

So far, it's been a great trip. Lovely weather, benign conditions, and
sailing (instead of motoring, as we did early on in our journey).
Whatta
life...

L8R

Skip

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
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"You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make
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come true. You may have to work for it however."
(and)
"There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its
hands.
You seek problems because you need their gifts."
(Richard Bach, in The Reluctant Messiah)

On Aug 9, 2:37 pm, Skip Gundlach wrote:

Our radar is set for 24 nautical miles. The typical shipping traffic
is moving at 15-30 knots, so I check every 15 minutes while I'm at the
keyboard. In 15 minutes, the fastest shipping would move 8 miles or
less, so
that would give us ample warning to pay very close attention.

Meanwhile, Otto (the autopilot) continues his faithful duty, steering
us to
the waypoint off Cape Fear.


Skip, whoes on watch when youre typing away inside and the boat is on
autopilot?

Seems to me if I was a new boat owner and longing for life at sea i
would be in the cockpit ON WATCH enjoying the view. PLEASE tell me you
are not considering a look at a RADAR screen every 15 min standing
watch! ?!? ! ?!? ?

I hate to tell you this but some things wont show on that screen. And
even if it did Im not sure your practiced enough to recognize a weak
target.

Bob

"Bob" wrote in message
ups.com...
On Aug 9, 2:37 pm, Skip Gundlach wrote:

Our radar is set for 24 nautical miles. The typical shipping traffic
is moving at 15-30 knots, so I check every 15 minutes while I'm at
the
keyboard. In 15 minutes, the fastest shipping would move 8 miles or
less, so
that would give us ample warning to pay very close attention.

Meanwhile, Otto (the autopilot) continues his faithful duty, steering
us to
the waypoint off Cape Fear.


Skip, whoes on watch when youre typing away inside and the boat is on
autopilot?

Seems to me if I was a new boat owner and longing for life at sea i
would be in the cockpit ON WATCH enjoying the view. PLEASE tell me you
are not considering a look at a RADAR screen every 15 min standing
watch! ?!? ! ?!? ?

I hate to tell you this but some things wont show on that screen. And
even if it did Im not sure your practiced enough to recognize a weak
target.

Bob


I was sailing north one morning in the Gulf Stream several years ago
transiting the approaches to the submarine base at Mayport. Of course
I stay in the cockpit to keep a visual watch almost constantly and only
duck my head below long enough to grab a snack or put a kettle on the
stove for a cup of coffee. The autopilot was steering and I was watching
all around the horizon as is my usual habit. All of a sudden I noticed a
square object coming out of the sea not a quarter mile off my starboard
bow on a collision course. It had not been there a minute ago. Turned
out it was the sail of a surfacing nuclear sub and it was going probably
20-25 knots. I quickly altered course to cross behind it.

Skippy down below typing away probably would have been run over. Get run
over by a nuclear sub and they won't even report it (provided they even
notice the small thump!) Those things are larger than they look.

Wilbur Hubbard