Home |
Search |
Today's Posts |
#1
posted to rec.boats.cruising
|
|||
|
|||
Island Time, PC- Saturday, August 30...
Island Time, PC- Saturday, August 30...
When we left you, we'd reached Nantucket. I'll spare you the limerick :{)) Nantucket was interesting from a historical point of view, and from the contrast to the mainland points we've been in up until now. Currents in the area are sometimes fierce, due to the small distances between land masses, and as the tides change, calculating where and when the current will be becomes much more interesting than just whether or not you're in the Gulf Stream. That's because, depending on where you are, you could be getting an advantage - or disadvantage - of more than 5 knots, even up to 10 in a couple of the areas we've not had to transit. Typical differences, however, are more than a couple of knots, and if you're sailing against them, it can make a big difference in how things go. We had a very nice visit with Lydia's best adult buddy from her early motherhood days, and her daughter and son-in-law, who have their home on Nantucket. Nantucket is home to some pretty famous people, and you basically can't buy a house there for under a million dollars. Fortunately for her buddy's daughter, she works for the town's Land Trust, which provides her and her contractor husband a lovely town-owned home at a somewhat discounted rate of rent. The island is in the midst of deciding whether to even allow, let alone encourage, development. Understandably, the locals want to restrict everything they can, and the prices reflect that. Being an island, like the Bahamas, everything has to be either flown in or boated in, and while there is very regular ferry service, it's expensive. There is some local produce available, but basically you'll pay about a 20% or higher premium for nearly everything. A case in point was gasoline, which at the time of this writing, had over a 25% premium over mainland pricing. Too bad for us, we paid $26 for a 5-gallon jerry jug refill. Imagine owning a truck or SUV and driving to work every day. Even though the island's small, you'll still put on the miles. I did see something I'd first seen 4 years ago in Scotland, a SMART car, recently imported to the US. Later, I'd see an entire fleet available to rent on Martha's Vineyard. I like them. They remind me of the Isettas of my youth... After 3 days of hedonism with her buddy, Lydia climbed back aboard, and we set sail for Martha's Vineyard. It had been described as an aging hippie-styled island, as compared to the Neiman-Marcus style of Nantucket. I don't know that I agree with either characterization, but it certainly had a different flavor when we got there... This trip (since we left Florida for Maine, and turned south) has been in stark contrast to our first trip up the East coast of the US. That trip had us totally bedeviled with stuff which broke or needed fixing or just plain wore out. This one has had very minor glitches, all of which have been very easy to remedy. Instead, we've been able to focus on the navigation and sailing enjoyment we signed on for, so to speak. Despite cruising having been universally described as "boat repair in exotic locations," we'd hoped to keep that part to a minimum. After our wreck, the thought that a thorough shakedown cruise, in an area within hailing distance of TowBoatUS and many chandleries or (not a chandlery in any usual sense of the word) simply West, BoatersWorld, Hamilton (the iconic marine store in Portland) and the like, would make good sense. Our experience has proven us right on that subject. However, along the way, we've reinforced my opinion that the US has enormous capability to enchant, captivate and otherwise succor a cruiser. Even this trip is a "hurry up" for us, and we're jumping over enormous areas which would be wonderful and entertaining to explore, in our quest to make it to Miami or south of there, where we'll pick up Lydia's mother for another cruise. We'll go to the Bahamas after doing the Keys for a while (more Island Time!), but I'm looking ahead to the possibility that, if we can't achieve a 1-year visa in Bahamas, instead of just diving to the T&C, we might come back to Miami, saving Lydia's mom the extra airfare to get back to her Delta roundtrip point, and then, get an early enough start that we could actually spend some time sightseeing as we worked our way to Nova Scotia in early August before heading south again. But, I digress... The trip from Nantucket to Martha's Vineyard is pretty easily done in a daysail, assuming conditions and currents are right. The wind was forecast to be fairly good in direction, and pretty stiff. Unfortunately, as is frequently the case, it was a very close point of sail, instead of an easy ride. The forecasts had it at 15-20, N, but, ever the Murphy rule, as we were coming out of the channel, we had to tack off to the NE in more like 10-15 in order to miss the shoals. The area between Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard is very highly populated with shoals, and one has to pay sharp attention to where and when you're sailing. That said, it was a marvelous sail, if a beat, up to that point. Making the turn, the wind piped up to the forecasted 15-20, but we did very nicely on full main and genoa, making about 6-7 knots beating into the wind. As we cleared the lighthouse at about 5 PM, the wind died altogether, and we reluctantly turned on Perky to motor the rest of the way, into the harbor. We'd stopped in the harbor just to overnight, on the way to Nantucket a few days prior, so had a bit of experience in what was there. On close examination of the charts in large scale, we decided that we'd anchor, instead of very close to the entrance, almost at the bottom. A small tour of the area, following the directions of the local TowBoatUS affiliate, convinced us that just north of the breakwater would be ideal. In fact, it proved to be so, and we anchored in about 11 feet of water, with low-low tide indications of about 8 feet, well clear of our keel. Holding was excellent, and we nestled in next to a wooden boat on his anchor, between the breakwater and the first of the moorings in that area. We saw someone in a dinghy going around where we thought was the end of the breakwater. Turns out it didn't go all the way to shore, and that route to the dinghy dock would be very convenient. Making our dinner, we watched a movie, and went to bed. While we thought we'd hit the ground running, inertia overcame us, and we didn't get the dinghy down before nearly noon. We'd learned that there were bicycles available to rent, and as we have a folder aboard, we could both ride, to see the town. We pulled the bike out, jumped in the dinghy and did a run around to a marine supply house specializing in wooden boat supplies. The area still has wooden boat builders, and the dacron 3-strand which makes our lazy jacks (the typical lines and sheets on an old wooden boat or current replica) was readily available, where I'd not seen any before in all my looking. So, we got new line for the main part of the lazy jacks, as ours is fading fast. (You may recall that one of them parted and I spliced it before rereeving it up the mast in Portland...) The next time we have the sail cover off, I'll redo the main lift for the lazy jacks with the new line. Martha's Vineyard was, indeed, a much more laid-back place, and while it didn't have the community-provided free restrooms and showers, the ferry terminal had not only restrooms but ample information about where to go, things to see, and how to get there. Because we arrived so late, we elected to leave the bike in the dink initially, and walk, rather than rent a bike with only a few hours. Martha's Vineyard is actually several communities, and the bus system there will ride you for a buck or an entire day for 6. If we get there again, we'll do the bus pass and never-mind the bikes. We had a lovely walking tour, however, using the several maps provided, and the guidance of the local information-booth guy at the ferry landing. The architecture, the history, and the extreme age of some of the things we saw were impressive. We realize we have little to brag about when compared to, say, Europe or England, but seeing the gravestones, some of the dates on the houses and municipal structures, and other history gave us a great perspective on the privileges of modern life. The graveyard in particular brought home the hardships of life in that area so long ago, as the "lost at sea" or age 3 months or 12 years or the like was a very common inscription on the gravestones... When we returned home (Flying Pig is our only home!), we went by way of the harbor, ogling the huge schooners there, and the lesser schooners as well. The number of wooden boats in the harbor exceeds our total encounters the entire time we've been cruising (granted, not all that long!), and they're just gorgeous. Building and maintenance of these beauties is an art form not lost on the locals, and for the most part, the boats we saw looked like they just came out of the building shed. However, the boat anchored next to us is a work in progress, and looks more like the typical full-time cruiser, which he is. Bob, a retired homeless-shelter chaplain, and his son Zack, were aboard. He's gone totally economical, using oil lights, and having a battery only for starting his engine and the very small demands of an anchor light and a couple of other small loads. Like us, he turns on the motor only when absolutely necessary, and if the wind's not blowing, or not blowing the right way, doesn't go! Still, it's a wooden boat with loads of character. Somehow, as efficient as they are, the plastic boats just don't have the same flavor and appearance as the enchanting wooden boat which abound in this part of the world. Another restful night at anchor, the wind came up and provided a bit of North swell, which rocked us gently. Once again, we studied the charts for current information, and looked at NOAA's reports for information about planning our progress to Block Island. As to the title on this log entry, our on-board systems include a 12V computer provided by IslandTimePC. All the comforts of home, but we also have the advantage of our wifi antenna and distribution system. As such, we've never been skunked in our ability to get internet connectivity, and Martha's Vineyard was no exception. So, we were able to look at all the current weather information in programming our departure for Block Island expecting to arrive by dark. We'd originally thought that it would be more prudent to leave at dusk, and make it an overnight run, but the currents for that time would have been contrary for us, and, as well, on recalculation, I felt that we could easily make the run in daylight. If we'd averaged only 4 knots, it would take us 15 hours, and if 7 knots, only 8. That would put us there before daylight, and not a great entrance, and, worse, a challenging anchorage, so we decided instead to leave early the next morning. Winds were forecast such that we should have a trip of about 10-12 hours. Of course, "forecasts" are usually, at least in our experience other than with Chris Parker, our passage guru, at best a guess. This was no different... We left the anchorage at about 7:30 in a light wind, with a slight heading current. Full main and genoa, we ghosted along as the wind got lighter by the moment, mostly behind us, rather than the forecasted lovely beam reach. Finally, I rolled in the genoa and pulled out the asymmetrical spinnaker, and went wing-and-wing with a preventer on the main to hold it out slightly against the wind, preventing an unexpected jibe. However, the wind continued to die, and our spinnaker wasn't staying full, so at 11AM I dropped the main in order not to blanket the air getting forward. As dead downwind isn't the fastest point of sail anyway, we jibed a bit, putting the wind about 30 degrees off our port stern, and our speed picked up. Picked up, that is, from a boring 2 to a screaming 3 knots! But, the sail stayed full, and, briefly, even, came abeam, where we could develop a bit more speed. For a brief time, we were making 6 knots in 4 knots of apparent wind :{)) Along the way, we were passed by a boat with a true spinnaker, and they were able to go directly downwind, right where we were going. We could see them, still, throughout the day, but by the end, they were nearly out of sight. As we got closer to the entrance of the harbor, in a very close call on whether we'd make it before dark, we gave them a call, just to chat them up to exult over the rare time when we can run the spinnaker all day long. Imagine our surprise when it turned out to be another of our angels, our first direct helpers in Key West, not even a couple of days after our wreck! They were pushing south, so unfortunately we didn't get to take them to dinner to thank them for all their kindnesses, but it sure is a small world out there. We keep bumping into people we know, or, more frequently, people who know us... Back to the story, however, at about 4:30, the wind started picking up, and for a while we were enjoying a real sleighride, making 8 knots in 12 knots of apparent wind. However, that also meant, since we were going basically downwind, that the wind had picked up to about 20, and we reluctantly doused the spinnaker at about 6PM as the apparent wind piped up to over 15 knots. As we were still basically downwind, even the genoa wouldn't stay filled, so we bowed to the reality of impending dark, and once again turned on our faithful iron genoa. The good news was that by the time we turned the corner, the wind was now on our beam, and the genoa blasted us along toward our destination. Once in the area of the breakwater, the wind, protected by the land, had died, and we rolled up the genoa as we slid into the anchorage. By 7:40, we were anchored in about 40 feet of water, enjoying our protected location. As large as the Great Salt Pond in Block Island is, there is a very limited area in which one may anchor. Fortunately, we'd arrived before the crush of Labor Day revelers, and had a clear space available, guided by our friends Jay and Diana. The next morning, we heard calling from a boat which was motoring around the anchorage. Aldo's bakery, headed by the driver who was singing Italian opera, had a wide variety of their wares aboard, including hot breakfasts, coffee, and more pastries than I could eat, even if I wanted to (which I surely did, as good as they all looked) if I only sampled each one. We settled for a blueberry, for me, and a cranberry-walnut, for Lydia, muffins to go with our cinnamon hazelnut coffee we'd just brewed. They were marvelous... A diversion here to speak to our means of making coffee, as the subject has come up in a couple of the areas which see these logs. We use a stainless steel, thermos-style (insulated), French press to brew our coffee, which we grind fresh each pot. Lydia succumbed to convenience, and we have an electric Starbucks grinder aboard. However, it's only one of the food-processor equivalents; it has a fast-whirling blade which chops up the beans. I also had, and used, until she came aboard, a manual grinder which I found at a West Marine Bargain Center (sometimes found behind a very much larger store, it's where oddballs and mismatches go to die, but sometimes you find extraordinary bargains). That's a burr grinder, and coffee purists will tell you that it makes a very much superior grind to the sometimes-burnt (due to overheating and running it too long) results from the usual electric appliance. So, if you're really serious about energy conservation, a manual burr grinder is the way to go, giving you your morning exercise - mine took 150 strokes to grind my two heaping scoops, and both arms got a workout, since you have to hold it still while you grind - and a *very* good grind on the coffee. Finally, we found this French press in a LeCrueset store. Nearly any of the French presses we'd seen previously were glass, a definite no-no on the boat, so I was overjoyed when I saw it. Not only do you get a superior cup of coffee, it keeps it warm enough for the second mug if you're a solitary drinker. In my case, it's usually a matter of keeping the second pot warm while we have our first cuppa. It's a liter pot, and it perfectly fills the two wide-bottomed stainless steel insulated mugs we use with nothing left over, so I usually make the second pot immediately when I pour our firsts. Generally speaking, that's the one I'll drink while I'm looking at the morning emails, with Lydia's cooling just a tiny bit, to make it immediately drinkable when she makes it up. Then, we've got our second cup waiting without having to boil the pot, first (regular teakettle, with a measured amount of water). Back to Block Island... Despite our best intentions, though, inertia overcame us and we didn't make it to shore, this time, until nearly 2PM. In our defense, that was partly because we'd found in chatting up the local TowBoatUS rep that we could hail the Block Island Boat Basin to make a reservation to land at their single-space (tight, at that!) face to take on water. So, we did, and they said it would be ok if we could come in the next 10 minutes. Wow! Up comes the anchor, surprisingly, clean, though some of the chain was very black fine mud, and we're off. Oops! It's about a 30-foot long dock, with slips on both sides. On the right side, there's a power boat with the nose sticking about 10' out into the space our stern would like to occupy, and on the other, another power boat with the nose flush to the dock face line. Well, nothing to do but execute a Captain-Ron style approach, taking advantage of our starboard-propwalk setup. We didn't smack the dock as he did, but we did kiss it, and I maneuvered Flying Pig on the way in such that the dinghy hung over the other guy's nose, the platform was just starboard of his bow, and our bow was well away from the other power boat. They'd sent out line-handlers, but there wasn't much point, as Lydia never hands over the line until we've stopped, anyway :{)) - usually she just lassoes the cleat and brings the line back through the chock to tie it off there. A quick washdown to take off the passage salt from deck and bimini/enclosures, filled both tanks, and we cleared the dock. While there were no other boats waiting, I'm sure they were apprehensive that traffic would soon be overwhelmed. The day looked to be spectacular in its offing, and we hurried back to our anchorage. As we'd come in under falling dusk, we didn't really get to wander around for the "best" spot, so, especially since many boats, our friends' included, had already left, we chose a spot a bit closer to the mouth, where, instead of over 30 feet deep, it was only about 25. Unfortunately for us, though the anchoring was totally uneventful, we spooked a boat which had out more chain than we. They felt they might swing into us if the wind changed... So, up it came, already set so hard the windlass grunted as we came over the anchor, and off to the largest area we could find. That worked out to about 40 feet or so depth, but, since it doesn't do us any good in the locker, we just put out copious chain. That much chain, relatively gently laid as we reverse, makes for a great back-down set. Our normal anchor-set routine is to let it grab with only a little scope, so we don't have the potential for fouling the anchor with too much chain immediately, and then let it out as we either drift or power back, with intermediate tightenings of the chain with just the momentum of the boat doing minor sets before backing down on it to make sure it was firmly set... So, anyway, with well over 100' out, we could get up a lot of momentum in our backdown maneuver. It's always very satisfying to see the chain straighten out, and then have the boat come to a very firm and positive stop :{)) Chuffed with our success, part of which was my first actual use of the helm anchor switch (never went forward this time), we commenced to getting the dinghy down. I've been dissatisfied with our securing modus on the dinghy, it previously being just lines from the front and rear of the boat, and had bought some ratchet straps at our last visit to WalMart. They worked a real treat, as our Kiwi buddies say, and the dink is totally immobile under way. Taking them down, and installing the outboard and fuel tanks was routine, but took a while, as it always does. This, too, was a first - we'd not put the straps on until our passage over from Martha's Vineyard... Well, between unanchoring, and reanchoring twice, and getting the dinghy down, it was now past noon, so we had a sandwich and headed into town, late, again. Despite our late start, we managed a walking tour of the old town, finding it charming, enchanting, and good exercise. We, of course, had to stop at Aldo's to see what this was all about. Turned out the prices on the pastries were exactly the same in the store as were charged on his delivery boat, a marvelous concession. It reminded us of the Caribbean islands, where fresh bread is frequently flogged in the same fashion, though not usually with a lyric tenor singing Italian opera! However, they also sold ice cream, so we splurged and split a hand-packed pint. As a very serious ice cream consumer in my landside days, I learned quickly that when one went into a multi-dollar-per-scoop establishment, even though a pint might well exceed a half gallon of store-supplied, very good, ice cream in cost, it was far more efficient to get a larger serving that way. And, I've also learned that if you tell the scooper up front that you won't need a lid, typically they'll pile it on so that it looks a bit like a wider-based version of a waffle cone's pile at the end. So, we enjoyed our Peppermint Stick, Chocolate Heathbar Crunch, Pistachio and Rum Raisin archeological expedition (dig further, find a different layer), and walked back to the docks. A brisk ride out to the dinghy and a late supper had us to bed early, as to catch the tides and currents would require a very early start as we headed off to Long Island Sound. The forecasts were absolutely perfect for a lovely sail to the Connecticut River, our destination on the way to Deep River where a client from my prior life awaited our arrival, so we went to bed dreaming of beam reaches. We'll leave you there, and pick up with our Long Island Sound adventures later - Happy Labor Day... Stay tuned :{)) L8R Skip Morgan 461 #2 SV Flying Pig KI4MPC See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery ! Follow us at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheFlyingPigLog and/or http://groups.google.com/group/flyingpiglog "You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it 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) |
#2
posted to rec.boats.cruising
|
|||
|
|||
Island Time, PC- Saturday, August 30...
Dave wrote:
On Mon, 1 Sep 2008 09:55:37 -0400, "Skip Gundlach" said: Martha's Vineyard was, indeed, a much more laid-back place, and while it didn't have the community-provided free restrooms and showers, the ferry terminal had not only restrooms but ample information about where to go, things to see, and how to get there. You must be speaking of Edgartown. Both Vineyard Haven and Menemsha have them. There are certainly lots of free restroom centers on the Vineyard - three that I know of in Vineyard Haven, two in Oak Bluff. Edgartown is the exception with its main restroom/visitor center in a few blocks away from the waterfront in the bus depot on Church St. There are showers at the VH town dock and there used to be some in Edgartown, but I don't know if they are still open to the public. The one complaint I have of the Vineyard is that Edgartown no longer permits anchoring in Katama Bay. It used to be that you could go to Edgartown without a reservation knowing that you could always find a secure spot up in the Bay; but they decided it was "harmful to the environment," which is a euphemism for eyesore to the rich folk. This was proven when the cut open in South Beach so that the Bay now gets well flushed, but they still don't allow anchoring. |
#3
posted to rec.boats.cruising
|
|||
|
|||
Island Time, PC- Saturday, August 30...
Dave wrote:
On Tue, 02 Sep 2008 16:10:18 -0400, jeff said: There are certainly lots of free restroom centers on the Vineyard - three that I know of in Vineyard Haven, two in Oak Bluff. Edgartown is the exception with its main restroom/visitor center in a few blocks away from the waterfront in the bus depot on Church St. I was thinking more in terms of public showers. I know that both Vineyard Haven and Menemsha have them. Never really looked at Edgartown because whenever we've been in there we've stayed at a marina. IIRC, Oak Bluffs is such a tight area that you almost have to go with a commercial mooring or dockside. Or are there town moorings and showers there? OB has public showers at the dock. I believe that the moorings are controlled by the harbor master, as they are in VH and Edgartown. I thought E'town had showers near the harbor master's office at the marina, but its been a long time. |
Reply |
Thread Tools | Search this Thread |
Display Modes | |
|
|
Similar Threads | ||||
Thread | Forum | |||
Island Romance at Bailey Island float - CIMG3056.jpg (1/1) | Tall Ship Photos | |||
August 19 - an August event... | Cruising | |||
August 10 - Hot Time In The Old Town, Tonight - Again (last one was several weeks ago) | Cruising | |||
Wow what a Saturday!!! | ASA | |||
Saturday | ASA |