I know for a fact that some of the information is out of date and or wrong. So please if you see information about your boat that is wrong or missing let me know and I will fix it.

scott

Here is the pictures with commentary by Bill.

I thought I would send a couple of before and after pictures of Saffanah as we progress through the retrofit we have been performing for the past two years.

In addition to all of the mechanical and sail handling changes we have made, we recently repainted Saffanah changing her color scheme from maroon and white to black, gold and white

I have sent several posts on the various changes we have made so I will not elaborate – just thought I would let the pictures do the talking about Saffanah’s new cloths.

One of the photos shows the dinghy hanging from the davits we installed to work with our Airies Windvane and which hopefully all can deduce which photos are before and which photos are the afters

Over the years Saffanah’s hull had been badly scratched and gouged from a argument with a mangrove island somewhere in the Keys. So the effort to fair the hull and remove some previous paint jobs took some time. Rather than roll and tip once the hull was patched and primed we hired a professional to apply the final coats of Awlgrip

Here is Pee Wee, the dinghy, hanging happily above Betty, the Aires Windvane.

Recently I have been reading through old blog posts to edit and re-tag things so I can organize the website a bit better.  Many of the early posts focus on financial issues I faced getting into sailing, boat buying and cruising.  Since those early posts I have come very far as I had purchased a boat and have been neck deep in its restoration.  I figure it is time for an update to those early posts and to give readers an insight into where I stand on affording this cruising dream.  For your reference, I began the blog outlining my financial situation in this post: I’s all about the money – pt. 1.  The next few posts discuss how I plan on affording the boat and cruise in posts such as: How I can make money while voyaging,  Cruising Expenses part 1, 2 and 3; and How much boat can I afford?

I spent a lot of time trying to answer the question “Is this possible without being rich?”  What I learned those early days was that cruising is possible no matter your financial situation.  While it may seem like a rich man’s dream to most people, you can [...]]]>

Lately the boat work has been pretty mundane, of the non-blog-worthy type.  I am still in the second section of the cockpit area and engine room and progress is coming along fine.  I have been busy sanding, cleaning, sanding again, them some more cleaning, then a bit more sanding, and so on.  I don’t want to update the blog with too much of the boring every-day details, so I will make some posts when I have semi-completeness to the small projects to display.  Right now the most notable projects are glassing in holes in the section, and replacing a bulkhead.

Recently I have been reading through old blog posts to edit and re-tag things so I can organize the website a bit better.  Many of the early posts focus on financial issues I faced getting into sailing, boat buying and cruising.  Since those early posts I have come very far as I had purchased a boat and have been neck deep in its restoration.  I figure it is time for an update to those early posts and to give readers an insight into where I stand on affording this cruising dream.  For your reference, I began the blog outlining my financial situation in this post: I’s all about the money – pt. 1.  The next few posts discuss how I plan on affording the boat and cruise in posts such as: How I can make money while voyaging,  Cruising Expenses part 1, 2 and 3; and How much boat can I afford?

I spent a lot of time trying to answer the question “Is this possible without being rich?”  What I learned those early days was that cruising is possible no matter your financial situation.  While it may seem like a rich man’s dream to most people, you can cruise on a shoestring and still sleep in the same beautiful anchorage as the millionaire on his motor yacht.  While they may be dining on a $15 burger at the marina, you could be eating a delicious lobster you caught and prepared yourself.  Pride, and good times still in tact…and money saved.  You can even go all out punk-rock style like the guys on S/V Pesilence did as displayed in their documentary here.  Dirt cheap, a little poorly executed, but a killer trip nonetheless.

I always run into this Q&A: “How much does it cost to cruise?”  and the answer is always the same “it costs whatever you have.”  While this may be true, that little quote leaves a lot of guess work on how to get there.  Hopefully my blog can bridge that gap for people in a similar situation as me.  What is my situation, exactly?

• I’m young. Not so much anymore, but when I decided I wanted to persue this dream I was 26 with not much to my name.  Many people finance their dream by selling a house they have been pouring money into for many years.  I don’t have that or a lot of other assets so coming up with a load of cash is a lot more work.
• I’m single. I have only found a handful of young, single guys trying to go out and cruise.  There are a quite a bit of older men who go out single handed and do it on their own, but they generally have a lifetime of work and experience under their belt.  The vast majority of young cruisers are couples who share the load of finances and boat work.  While I have a wonderful girlfriend, this is my gig and I need to make it happen on my own.  Someday I may get married, and hopefully a partnership will be formed for this journey.  But for now I am on my own and need to carry the whole ship.
• I had to climb out of debt. Not only did I not have much to my name, but I had negative net worth.  The first step in this whole plan was to get out of debt, and I was successful in getting rid of the “bad” debt in my first year of trying.
• I’m not rich. While I have a decent paying job I am by no means raking in a sizable cash flow.
• I don’t have a bag of cash waiting for me.  It is very disheartening to read cruising blogs of young people only to find out when asked how they afford their cruise, the usual answer aside from selling a house is a big hunk of cash from parents.  It usually goes something like this: “We saved and saved and it was really tough, and as for the boat itself…well lets say we owe daddy a lot of thanks!”  That isn’t really inspiring, and a little deflating to people like me trying to figure all this out on our own.  Though I credit them for at least being honest if they are candid about it.
• I have no sailing or boating background. I had to figure out EVERYTHING from scratch here.  I had no mentor to show me the way, or even quality time riding around on a boat as a kid.  Most people get into this after sailing all their life with family members or friends, but I know there are a ton of people like me who have seen it from the outside wanting to get in.

Since deciding to chase this dream, I devoted myself to living a frugal lifestyle to be able to save and afford this cruise.  Once I got out of college and entered the work world, I did my part as a dedicated consumer and blew all my money and then some (credit cards!) to afford what I thought was a good life.  Only after a bit of enlightenment thanks to some crucial 3rd world surf trips, my view of this lifestyle drastically changed.  I realized what my dream life was, and buying things to be happy was not it.  The need to save for a dream completely changed how I viewed the things I used to spend money on, and my values shifted dramatically.

I soon stopped wasting my hard earned cash on the latest electronics, nights of black-out drinking at bars, eating out all the time, and other needless things I threw money away on. It was difficult at first, particularly as it alienated me from my friends in some ways.  While they were out drinking late into the night at bars, I stayed at home and read books like Nigel Calder’s Diesel Engine Manual.  While they were poking fun at each other for getting a new car without this bell or that whistle, I was beginning to learn how to do my own repairs and maintenance on my old beater to save a buck.  While they were ready to spill a few hundred on a fancy restaurant just for fun, I was working on my cooking skills so I can eat well on the cheap.

It all paid off though, as I was able to get rid of a whopping $12,000 in credit card debt in 9 months and began to save aggressively afterwards.  Every last penny I didn’t have to spend I stashed away as part cruising/boat fund, part emergency fund.  With such a strong motivating force, it became easier and easier to save.  All I had to do is ask myself “what do you want more, this thing or another month added to your cruise?”  Easy choice for me.

Around this time the world economy started to crash, and the company I worked for in Orlando wasn’t immune to its effects.  Lay-offs began sometime late 2008, and new rounds would happen every few months.  I felt somewhat secure at the beginning since my department was still getting work, but I was still uneasy.  The uneasy feeling helped me save even more aggressively and stash away that emergency fund.

In May of 2009, I was in the middle of the boat search and Windsong popped up on the radar.  For reasons discussed throughout this blog, I took the plunge and took her on as my own.  Unfortunately, 3 weeks after buying her I was cut to part-time status at work.  The cut in my income couldn’t have come at a worse moment, and perhaps I was stupid for buying the boat in such uncertain times.

I spent the next 6 months working on a part-time status, but keeping my income up for most of that time by cashing in saved vacation.  I was extremely lucky  that Windsong’s previous owner let me keep the boat at his dock for free.  If I had to move her into a slip I paid for, I would have been hurting.  I went further into super-saver mode, and became almost annoyingly thrifty.  I was able to pad my emergency fund quite healthily and continued to keep my eye on the sailing dream.  Then on December 30, 2009 I was laid off completely from the company.

Of all the financial advice I have received over the years, I am probably most thankful for the emergency fund rule.  I had about 6-9 months of living expenses saved up so I was not in ruin due to the layoff.  What was terrifying, however, was the prospect of owning the boat during this time and the thought of spending that cash which I hoped to one day use for the cruise.

Lucky enough, the stars aligned for me and I was able to secure a job with a great company in St. Augustine only a few weeks after being laid off.  I’ve always wanted to live there, and couldn’t be happier with how things turned out.  Even better, we agreed that I wouldn’t start until that April.  This gave me the time I needed to move Windsong around Florida via sail instead of trucking it like I originally intended.

I have lived here in St. Augustine more than a year now and have been restoring Windsong ever since.  People ask me often how much I have spent on this restoration so far, and the answer is “not much”.  It took me nearly this much time just to take the thing apart in a method that would allow me to put it back together one day.  All that required was a few hundred dollars spent on tools and various supplies such as sandpaper.  Other than that most of the money has gone to storing the boat in the yard.

That brings me to a point that I didn’t necessary overlook, but underestimated as a big expense: storing your boat.  When I was looking into a boat that would need a lot of work, I researched what it cost to keep a boat on land while working on it.  I was deceived by incredibly low prices such as $3-4 per foot per month, which I later learned was for boats just being stored…not worked on.  If you want to work on your boat most places charge a daily fee that borders on ridiculousness.  Luckily I was able to find a yard that charged a reasonable rate and had good facilities.  I pay close to what I would pay if I had my boat in the water, roughly $12 per foot per month.  With taxes, electricity, and now mast storage the actual cost is about $560 per month.

If you are considering buying a boat that can’t be hauled out of the water, be sure to take into account slip, mooring or storage fees because they can be easily overlooked.  While I am able to afford the yard fees, it eats into the amount I can save each month.  I still stash away a good bit of cash each month, but I know all of that will evaporate soon once I start buying things like rigging, windows and restoring the engine.  For now, it is smaller expenses such as epoxy and fiberglass supplies, paint, pricey plywood, etc as I begin the major repairs and restoration projects.

I continue to lead a frugal life and have completely shifted my way of spending (or saving, actually) to be a way of life instead of a temporary jaunt to afford something.  Much like dieting: it only works until you stop.  You have to live it, breathe it, make it your way of doing things.  Living beneath your means is not easy, but with a worthy goal you will find the motivation.  I want nothing more in this world than to be able to do this journey, and with that always in the front of my mind I can easily not buy whatever tempts me.  I am happy that I have learned to live comfortably on a lot less than I used to as I will have to once I set sail regardless.

This is sort of a disjointed post, I know, so I apologize for not really going anywhere with it.  I just wanted to give an update to say that things are going well on the money-front…for now.  We shall see how it goes once I need to drain my savings for the big ticket items, but now that I know how to save I’m not worried about replenishing the bank when I need to.

Visit http://www.thequestforwindandwaves.com/ for more stories by Erick.

http://www.latitude38.com/

July 15, 2011 – Baradel Island, St. Vincent & The Grenadines

Allen and Kate Barry, liveaboards and worldwide cruisers for 20 years aboard the San Francisco-based DownEast 38 Mendocino Queen, report they were assaulted and robbed around 10:45 p.m. on the night of July 2 while at anchor just off Baradel Island in the Tobago Cays Marine Reserve of St. Vincent & The Grenadines. Having spent thousands of nights on the hook from Hong Kong to East Africa, and having travelled to and through 35 countries by boat and land, this was the first time they’d been assaulted. This is an edited version of a report by Kate.

“We spent the day snorkeling the outside edge of Horseshoe Reef, where we found sharks, a good number of turtles and a lot of reef fish. Because of a tropical wave, only four boats remained in the anchorage that night. Night came on very dark with no moon. And thanks to the wind, the surf on the reef, the chop lapping against the hull, and the ground tackle groaning, it was not a quiet night.

“At about 10 p.m., Allen, who was [...]]]> I spoke with Mr. Andy Turpin the Managing Editor at Latitude 38 where this story was published. He graciously consented to us re-publishing  it on the Downeaster Yachts website. Please take the time to jump over to Latitude 38′s website and check them out. They have a great free periodical that I think compares with any of the subscription periodicals. It actually is probably better in many respects.

http://www.latitude38.com/

Medocino Queen Attacked in the Caribbean

July 15, 2011 – Baradel Island, St. Vincent & The Grenadines

Allen and Kate Barry, liveaboards and worldwide cruisers for 20 years aboard the San Francisco-based DownEast 38 Mendocino Queen, report they were assaulted and robbed around 10:45 p.m. on the night of July 2 while at anchor just off Baradel Island in the Tobago Cays Marine Reserve of St. Vincent & The Grenadines. Having spent thousands of nights on the hook from Hong Kong to East Africa, and having travelled to and through 35 countries by boat and land, this was the first time they’d been assaulted. This is an edited version of a report by Kate.

Allen and Kate Berry suffered a violent attack on their boat Mendocino Queen on July 2 while anchored at the Tobago Cays. Photo Courtesy Mendocino Queen © 2011 Latitude 38 Publishing Co., Inc.

“We spent the day snorkeling the outside edge of Horseshoe Reef, where we found sharks, a good number of turtles and a lot of reef fish. Because of a tropical wave, only four boats remained in the anchorage that night. Night came on very dark with no moon. And thanks to the wind, the surf on the reef, the chop lapping against the hull, and the ground tackle groaning, it was not a quiet night.

“At about 10 p.m., Allen, who was below reading, thought he heard a slow-running outboard, so he went on deck with a big flashlight and shined it about. He caught a glimpse of a small boat motoring away. About 10 minutes later, there was a sound at the bow, and Allen, who had come below again, went on deck to see two men wearing masks board the bow of our boat. One raced down the deck toward Allen, with something in his hand.

“Allen rushed below and grabbed the first heavy object he found, which was the 4 D-cell flashlight, which is about 14 inches long. He also yelled for me, as I had just gone to bed. Allen started back up the companion stairs, which were now blocked by one of the boarders. Allen repeatedly struck the man with the flashlight and kept screaming, “Get off my boat, you motherfucker!” at the top of his lungs. The boarder was trying to force his way below by kicking Allen in the arms, chest and face, and kept screaming “I’m going to kill you, motherfucker!” Allen’s resistance gave me enough time to get on the VHF and put out a distress call. There was a lot of noise, and the vessel anchored closest to us heard both the commotion and the VHF call.

“The man attacking Allen got a hold of the flashlight about the same time I finished the VHF call. I attacked him with my fists, at which point he hit me over the head with the flashlight, splitting the skin on my scalp. Blood poured down my head and over my neck and shoulders. The second assailant then pointed a gun at my head, by which time the other man had a knife to Allen’s throat.

“By this time the VHF was alive and loud, as the woman on the boat next to us kept broadcasting, ‘A vessel is being boarded and attacked in the Tobago Cays.’ She kept repeating the message over and over, in a loud and agitated voice. Although there was no chance of our being rescued by authorities for hours, it made the assailants very nervous to know their crime was being witnessed and reported. They were obviously anxious to leave.

“Nonetheless, the main assailant kept the knife to Allen’s throat and kept screaming over and over, ‘Where do you hide the money, motherfucker, you can die tonight!’

“Allen lead him to the V-berth, opened a cabinet, and pulled out a zippered leather satchel that had a $ sign on it. He opened it and pulled out envelopes labeled US$, EC$ and EURO. ‘Where is the rest of your money, motherfucker?’ the assailant demanded as he pushed the knife a little harder. ‘That’s all there is,’ I told him. ‘No, wait,’ I said, ‘there’s a little more in the nav station.’ We went there and he snatched the change purse I pointed out to him.

“The assailants were anxious to leave, as the VHF was still broadcasting the attack. They left me sitting on the cabin sole bleeding and took Allen on deck, the knife still pressed to his neck, still screaming about killing him and him dying. Figuring they were going to knife him or throw him overboard, Allen tried to come up with a plan. But they simply boarded their little boat — it looked like all the other local boats in the area — and took off.

“We were able to contact some friends on boats on the hook at Union Island’s Clifton Harbor, and they contacted the police, who asked us to come to Union Island to file a report. The idea that we would raise anchor at midnight and risk the many dangerous reefs in the area was absurd. This is a ‘daytime only’ area of navigation. Our friends stressed that this had been a serious crime, a violent assault with weapons and injured people, and finally shamed the police into acting. A Park Service boat arrived at Mendocino Queen about 1:30 a.m. with four police and two Park Service people. A report of sorts was taken on folded scraps of wet paper. We were impressed that at that hour of the night, the authorities managed to assemble a boat and six officers and travel in poor weather to respond to this incident. The officers were kind and concerned people, but there was really nothing they could do for us.

“When they left, we locked up our boat before we went to bed. We hadn’t done that in years. The next day we went to Union Island, where we were extremely well-treated by other cruisers.

“Looking back, we seemed to operate on ‘automatic’ during the assault. We don’t recall fear — there was no time for it. We fought until there was no more point in it, then more or less went along with what the robbers wanted. Which was money. When they left, we did the practical things, like inspect for wounds and wash up blood. We were on the radio a lot of the time. A neighbor offered to come over, but we declined. It was a poor night to launch a dinghy, but we appreciated the offer.

“We don’t wake up at night with the memory of this. We are not suspicious of every local boat we see. And we want to continue onward. We always knew this could happen, and it could have been much worse. We could have been hurt or killed. We could have been emotionally traumatized. We could have been, but we were not. If this had happened early in our cruising days, it may have been more unsettling. We have been living aboard and cruising for about 20 years, and we’ve been to 35 counties by boat and by land. We know the risks that come with this lifestyle, and we willingly take them. It’s our life, and we like it.”

In the last issue of Latitude, we wrote that we thought the Caribbean was a much more dangerous area to cruise than Mexico. It’s incidents such as this, plus last summer’s brutal beating of the late Mike Harker of the Manhattan Beach-based Hunter 49 Wanderer III that make us feel this way. In Mexico, almost all the violence is narco-vs-narco or -government. In the Caribbean, there is lots of ‘rob ‘em because they’re rich or white’ kind of crime, often very violent.

- latitude / rs

We had a plan tho, after a little puff we would back up quickly and hope we could turn the bow east and head out to sea, no luck, the  wind prevented me from turning and pushed us back into our slip. we stopped and tried again, this time with a little better angle as we didn’t tie up to the dock. On try two, Seabird was pushed back into a slip but we did make progress as we fell into the next slip toward the open ocean. Thankfully a stranger who must have witnessed the goings-on came over and offered to help, I asked him to push the bow as hard as he could which he did and we  barely avoided Hi Voltage, Central Maine Power’s service boat, then had to avoid a large fishing boat on the very end of Dillimo’s dock and a lobster boat on the Portland Pier side…. to say it was stressful would be an understatement; once we escaped the docks we both wanted to have a mooring. We took a second to breath then raised the main sail but it wasn’t until the engine was off before we could breathe.

I had the first reef in the main just to be safe until we rounded Bud Light, after seeing the conditions while facing the open ocean we set the sails for a downwind leg. Wing and Wing I was able to [...]]]> The sun was up and the wind was down on Saturday April 30 2011, Sophi and I decided to sail. The only thing in our way was a North wind… let  me explain, a north wind will push our boat back into our slip and or not allow us to point the pointy end east to get out of the dock area.

We had a plan tho, after a little puff we would back up quickly and hope we could turn the bow east and head out to sea, no luck, the  wind prevented me from turning and pushed us back into our slip. we stopped and tried again, this time with a little better angle as we didn’t tie up to the dock. On try two, Seabird was pushed back into a slip but we did make progress as we fell into the next slip toward the open ocean. Thankfully a stranger who must have witnessed the goings-on came over and offered to help, I asked him to push the bow as hard as he could which he did and we  barely avoided Hi Voltage, Central Maine Power’s service boat, then had to avoid a large fishing boat on the very end of Dillimo’s dock and a lobster boat on the Portland Pier side…. to say it was stressful would be an understatement; once we escaped the docks we both wanted to have a mooring. We took a second to breath then raised the main sail but it wasn’t until the engine was off before we could breathe.

I had the first reef in the main just to be safe until we rounded Bud Light, after seeing the conditions while facing the open ocean we set the sails for a downwind leg. Wing and Wing I was able to try out my preventer… a line that runs from the cockpit wench to a pulley bolted to the inboard side of your bowsprit then it runs to a bowline at about the mast, from there we have a caribbeaner to attach it to a line that is the length of the boom and attaches to the furthest aft bail on the boom. With this configuration I can use my wench to tension the boom on a downwind run, then if the wind gets fluky or (more likely) I steer the wrong direction and the wind gets around the main sail the boom will NOT accidentally jibe. Should I decide to Jibe under my own free will I can loosen the line enough to do so, then go up front and move the lines around the mast, presto changeo.

Seabird sailed well down wind at about 5.5Kn right past Portland Headlight where we turned North toward Jewell Island. We were about past Peaks Island about a mile or so off shore when the wind totally died, we drifted out to sea for a good 45 mins before we were able to gain enough headway to actually tack around and head back to land. Such is the sailing life. Sophi called a friend of ours and they decided  we would meet on Willard Beach, so we sailed back to Portland Headlight and into the Hussy sound against the wind. We really tried to stick to sailing and practice sailing up to a mooring but the wind was not allowing us to do so. The motor roared to life and we took a mooring of our choice as we were the only ones on the water.

We used our new inflatable to take the shore where Bella found a discarded Mango and would not give it up the rest of the day, we met MM then stole her for the sail home. Instantly after leaving the mooring we encounter a tanker; a tanker would normally want to leave out the Hussy sound which we were exactly in the middle of. After much deliberation we decided to motor across the channel to get out of its way, only to get further in its way, I called them on the radio to learn we had motored further in the way as she was destined for “anchorage Bravo” thank goodness for radios, I told the tanker we would fall off and get out of there way and he thanked us, then blocked all the wind.

Seabird tacked at least 3 times only to jibe a half dozen before the wind made up its mind and blew steady from the south and we beam reached past Dimillo’s before rounding up into the wind to drop sail. For a shakedown cruise, this one went very well.

See more of Travis and Sophi sailing Seabird at http://sailingseabird.wordpress.com

My next alarm was set for two hours later, a.k.a. 6am. I barely caught a wink of sleep the entire night in anticipation of what might happen and what I might see. I would think of all possibilities, one being the entire hull is one blister, and many other extremes including nothing being wrong. Every time I would turn over in bed, I would think of something else. what if someone tried to steal my boat? We were right in the middle of a sketchy part of town. “How are they going [...]]]> Last weekend we decided to inspect our under-the-water hull. We had prepared for weeks, and found a spot where the tide would leave us high and dry for a few hours. Even better, it was right around the corner from our “normal” slip. In the middle of the night, we snuck away and motored down the long, narrow piece of water between two wharves, finally meeting a seawall, which we tied up to. I put one piling near the mast and let the others fall where they might, hanging a fender on the two that touched our hull. We set our spring lines and secured our baby with care and waited for the tide to drop. I set my alarm for four hours later. When it rang, I hopped out of my pilot berth to see what the tide was doing. Once on deck, I tied a line from our mast to the piling and cinched it tight, helping us lean into the pier. Over the next ten minutes, I stood on our cap-rail, ultimately stepping onto the land to check for movement. When finally there wasn’t any, I knew our keel was on the ground and we were beginning to stop floating. Hopefully, now I could rest.

My next alarm was set for two hours later, a.k.a. 6am. I barely caught a wink of sleep the entire night in anticipation of what might happen and what I might see. I would think of all possibilities, one being the entire hull is one blister, and many other extremes including nothing being wrong. Every time I would turn over in bed, I would think of something else. what if someone tried to steal my boat? We were right in the middle of a sketchy part of town. “How are they going to steal it, Travis? It’s not even floating!” I kept telling myself this was nonsense, I needed to sleep, and was surprised when I was awoken by my alarm clock. My blanket and sheets didn’t stand a chance as I flung them off of me to go look at the boat. Oh man, the water was mere inches from the bottom of our keel! I couldn’t act fast enough and the water took too long to boil as I made my coffee. I was in a big rush but needlessly so, as it took another half an hour for the water to come down to a level where my boots wouldn’t sink. While I sipped my coffee I screwed on a brush to my boat hook and while dunking and scrubbing I worked my way down the starboard side of my hull. To my surprise, the entire process took about half an hour. No fuss, no muss. No issues were found, not one blister, not one scratch, not even one barnacle was attached! Relief.

The scrubbing process went so quickly that I had aspirations of painting, too. Unfortunately, Maine has been under a cloud for the past who-knows-how-long, and our paint wouldn’t have dried, anyways. But it was good practice, free and we got lots of attention. The sun is supposed to make an appearance towards the end of this coming week, and we hope to be able to careen again and paint the bottom. We decided to change locations as having the solid wall on one side of you has its disadvantages. Luckily, we know of an alternate location: Peaks Island.

I’m new to the art of careening. It seems like no one does it, but I don’t know why because it’s so easy and free. If you’re in an area with at least a 7′ tide it’s definitely an option if you find the right location. Look for a tall, solid structure with at least enough water to float you at high and that dries out at low. It also helps to have a full keeled boat, or at least one that you trust not to push up into your hull.

Check out more adventures of the DE32 Seabird and Travis and Sophi at http://sailingseabird.wordpress.com/

It is cold out on the water of the Chesapeake.  On Monday, Nov. 22, the first day of my 48th year, the sun was shining and the wind and waves were blasting me in the face.  Hiding behind the dodger did nothing, I was soon shivering involuntarily thinking there were better ways to spend my life.  The cold literally sunk into my bones. At the suggestion of both Michelle and my boss, I turned into Deltaville, Virginia, for a rendezvous with shore power at a dock.  My electric blanket was looking pretty good.

I let a strong norther pass — it would have been a sleigh ride south but being a singlehander, it would also have meant going out on deck (and out on the fairly long bowsprit) to raise sails.  With the waves growing, I decided against it.  Falling off the boat would be A Bad Thing.  No one would even know until Shadow Marie crashed into some rocks somewhere.  That’s not a thought I like to conjure up.  Being frozen fish food doesn’t sound so great, either.

The winds calmed and I took off for Norfolk.  Of course what wind blew was on the nose and the cold was back with a flourish.  I was happy to emerge from a gloomy day at sea to see a large American Flag flying at Hampton Roads.  The electric blanket again sounded great so I decided a marina would be best over the anchorage I had planned.  Michelle began calling around but, being Thanksgiving, none were open.  She left messages, though, and one called her back.  David Briggs, owner of Rebel Marina, invited me to tie up at a floating dock in his marina.  When Michelle asked for the rate, he told her that he couldn’t [...]]]>

Sunrise over the Chesapeake

It is cold out on the water of the Chesapeake.  On Monday, Nov. 22, the first day of my 48th year, the sun was shining and the wind and waves were blasting me in the face.  Hiding behind the dodger did nothing, I was soon shivering involuntarily thinking there were better ways to spend my life.  The cold literally sunk into my bones. At the suggestion of both Michelle and my boss, I turned into Deltaville, Virginia, for a rendezvous with shore power at a dock.  My electric blanket was looking pretty good.

I let a strong norther pass — it would have been a sleigh ride south but being a singlehander, it would also have meant going out on deck (and out on the fairly long bowsprit) to raise sails.  With the waves growing, I decided against it.  Falling off the boat would be A Bad Thing.  No one would even know until Shadow Marie crashed into some rocks somewhere.  That’s not a thought I like to conjure up.  Being frozen fish food doesn’t sound so great, either.

The winds calmed and I took off for Norfolk.  Of course what wind blew was on the nose and the cold was back with a flourish.  I was happy to emerge from a gloomy day at sea to see a large American Flag flying at Hampton Roads.  The electric blanket again sounded great so I decided a marina would be best over the anchorage I had planned.  Michelle began calling around but, being Thanksgiving, none were open.  She left messages, though, and one called her back.  David Briggs, owner of Rebel Marina, invited me to tie up at a floating dock in his marina.  When Michelle asked for the rate, he told her that he couldn’t charge me since it was Thanksgiving.

Wow.

A few minutes after I tied up, he walked down the dock to make sure I got in OK.  He then invited me to Thanksgiving dinner in the boater’s lounge.  I had originally planned on a can of Ravioli at anchor and ended up tucked into a really nice marina being filled up with turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, green beans and pecan pie.  In the process, I met some really nice people.

David Briggs took in a cold and tired stranger, not only provided a free boat slip but also provided a holiday dinner.  It’s really good to know there are still people like him walking around.

visit Mitch and Shadow Marie at http://www.lifecaptions.com/blog/ for more adventures.

There is something magical about having a locker full of clean towels on a cruising boat. Not only does it mean that the laundry has probably been done recently – it means something far more important than that: It means that there hasn’t been a crisis recently.

The towels seem to come flying out during many boat crises – both large and small. It could be the refrigeration water filter gets clogged or perhaps there is a problem with the fresh water system. Or worse, there could be diesel or oil to clean up. Or, horrifically, there may have been a problem with the plumbing to the head or holding tank.

But having a locker full of clean towels – as I have right now – means that none of that has happened recently. Of course now whatever force in the universe that causes such problems knows I have a locker full of clean towels – and is plotting a way for me to use them.

The fuel dock at the Georgetown Yacht Harbor is an extremely convenient place – it is sitting out as a pier with the ability to dock for fuel on three sides. Apparently the hiring guidelines dictate that only cute young girls need to apply for the job as fuel dock attendant. Well, perhaps anyone can apply but it seems that only cute young girls are hired.

And that is a good and bad thing. It’s good because I’m a male and like almost all males, cute young girls are a good thing. It’s bad because the pump out station is also at the fuel dock. That means that all of the middle age men that come through, enjoying seeing a cute young girl, have to ask the cute young girl to pump [...]]]>

There is something magical about having a locker full of clean towels on a cruising boat. Not only does it mean that the laundry has probably been done recently – it means something far more important than that: It means that there hasn’t been a crisis recently.

The towels seem to come flying out during many boat crises – both large and small. It could be the refrigeration water filter gets clogged or perhaps there is a problem with the fresh water system. Or worse, there could be diesel or oil to clean up. Or, horrifically, there may have been a problem with the plumbing to the head or holding tank.

But having a locker full of clean towels – as I have right now – means that none of that has happened recently. Of course now whatever force in the universe that causes such problems knows I have a locker full of clean towels – and is plotting a way for me to use them.

The fuel dock at the Georgetown Yacht Harbor is an extremely convenient place – it is sitting out as a pier with the ability to dock for fuel on three sides. Apparently the hiring guidelines dictate that only cute young girls need to apply for the job as fuel dock attendant. Well, perhaps anyone can apply but it seems that only cute young girls are hired.

And that is a good and bad thing. It’s good because I’m a male and like almost all males, cute young girls are a good thing. It’s bad because the pump out station is also at the fuel dock. That means that all of the middle age men that come through, enjoying seeing a cute young girl, have to ask the cute young girl to pump out their holding tank.

I can picture the scene now:

50-something guy (thinking): Hey! A cute girl! Cool!

Cute dock attendant (grinning): Hi there!

50-something guy: Could I get three hundred gallons of diesel and a quick pump out?

Cute dock attendant (grinning): Sure thing! I’ll get it started right now!

The pump out hose gets attached and before you know it there is…. an odor. Nothing anyone can do about it – it’s a holding tank for crying out loud. But it sure is… odiferous.

50-something guy: Uh…yeah… We had guests over…. They weren’t healthy people… That’s it…. Sick guests… Nothing contagious, though!

Cute dock attendant (grinning / thinking): This is revolting!

50-something guy (thinking / covering his wedding ring): I wonder if she’d go out with me?

Cute dock attendant (grinning / thinking): I’m gonna throw up!

I wonder how many times a day that scene plays out?

As for full disclosure: I’m not a 50-something (yet) and, while the cute dock attendants are pretty cute, they aren’t THAT cute.

And finally, questions from readers. Actually, that’s not true – it’s a question from my mom and I don’t think she actually reads this. But she does ask the question frequently.

“What do you do all day?”

Good question, Mom! I can tell you that I’m busy as all get out – there is more to do than hours in the day to do it. As for what it is I actually do all day, the answer is:

“I don’t know.”

Seriously – I don’t know how the days go by. It could have something to do with my recent little concussion but I don’t think so. I honestly don’t know. Yesterday I wired something from the nav station to the cockpit – but that didn’t take all day. Today I dinghied to the fuel dock (the one with the cute but not THAT cute dock attendants) to pay my mooring fee but that only took a few minutes. I moved the holders for a danforth anchor at the bow – but that was quick and easy.

Of all the things mentioned, I’ve accounted for about an hour. I honestly don’t know what the hell happened to the rest of those two days. But I do know that I was busy. Busy as all get out.. Busy, busy, busy.

In fact, I have stuff to do. Make dinner or smelt an anchor or something. I have to go.

Busy, busy, busy. Bye!

visit Mitch and Shadow Marie at http://www.lifecaptions.com/blog/ for more adventures.

There must be something black hole-like about boats and places named Georgetown.

In the Bahamas, George Town, on Great Exuma, is the winter refuge for hundreds of cruisers. The harbor is large and reasonably well protected and the town offers pretty much everything a cruiser could need – including flights home, if necessary.

It is also known as “Chicken Harbor.” George Town, Bahamas, is the last stop in the protection of the Exuma Islands chain. To continue on from there, you are in the open Atlantic. Many, many cruisers sail in with dreams of heading south into the Caribbean but find their anchors stuck in the sand. The temptations and relative security of George Town overshadow dreams of new islands and new adventures. Life is easy there, if not occasionally annoying (due, of course, to a bizarro handful of the hundreds of cruisers).

Our anchor got stuck there for two months. In our defense, we were waiting for some friends to sail in. But we, too, found life easy there. Entire days spent enjoying the beautiful tropical scene – a beach bar, new friends, a decent grocery store, and so on. But finally we did leave – and I’m glad we did.

I’m now in another Georgetown – this one in Maryland. I’ve been here for several days now – I would have to look at a calendar to tell you exactly how many. I didn’t expect to be here still but here I am.

A few days ago I was clipped by a tornado or a funnel cloud or a microburst or whatever. In my mind it doesn’t matter – it came from hell. But that’s not the reason I’m still here. Earlier that day, it was hot and muggy and I had found an old Windscoop on [...]]]>

There must be something black hole-like about boats and places named Georgetown.

In the Bahamas, George Town, on Great Exuma, is the winter refuge for hundreds of cruisers. The harbor is large and reasonably well protected and the town offers pretty much everything a cruiser could need – including flights home, if necessary.

It is also known as “Chicken Harbor.” George Town, Bahamas, is the last stop in the protection of the Exuma Islands chain. To continue on from there, you are in the open Atlantic. Many, many cruisers sail in with dreams of heading south into the Caribbean but find their anchors stuck in the sand. The temptations and relative security of George Town overshadow dreams of new islands and new adventures. Life is easy there, if not occasionally annoying (due, of course, to a bizarro handful of the hundreds of cruisers).

Our anchor got stuck there for two months. In our defense, we were waiting for some friends to sail in. But we, too, found life easy there. Entire days spent enjoying the beautiful tropical scene – a beach bar, new friends, a decent grocery store, and so on. But finally we did leave – and I’m glad we did.

I’m now in another Georgetown – this one in Maryland. I’ve been here for several days now – I would have to look at a calendar to tell you exactly how many. I didn’t expect to be here still but here I am.

A few days ago I was clipped by a tornado or a funnel cloud or a microburst or whatever. In my mind it doesn’t matter – it came from hell. But that’s not the reason I’m still here. Earlier that day, it was hot and muggy and I had found an old Windscoop on board. A Windscoop is a kite like chute that you put over a hatch to capture and funnel the wind down into the boat.

I tried to install it over the large, heavy forward hatch but couldn’t figure out how to attach it properly. Working from inside the boat, I had my head sticking out of the hatch by a few inches trying to secure it. It was then that something on the Windscoop caught the large spring holding up that large, heavy hatch, thus causing it to crash down at a surprisingly rapid pace. Gravity is really something, isn’t it? Before it could slam shut, however, the hatch found my head which was, as mentioned, sticking just few inches out.

It was full bore contact right on the top of my head. Blood immediately began pouring down my face and I screamed like a little girl (although little girls probably don’t use those words). To say the least, it was not a pleasant sensation.

A short while later, I noticed my peripheral vision was a bit askew. I also noticed that I was getting up to do things but, after getting up, would forget what I was going to do. It seems I had managed to give myself a slight concussion.

Shortly after that happy experience, the storm hit. It was not my best day.

So, after that painfully long story, I’m in Georgetown (Maryland) waiting for a cognitive recovery. Almost there, I think – but who would know?

The Georgetown Yacht Basin is a very nice place. Bicycles are provided at no charge – which is a good thing considering the nearest small grocery is nearly two miles away. It is also in a very protected little harbor. Occasionally, I can even pick up a wifi signal.

Which brings me to the point of this post. I used one of the bikes to pedal my way to the grocery store for supplies. Snacks, of course, play a prominent role in my provisioning list and, as such, I picked up a bag of mini Snickers bars. I was shocked, I tell you, shocked at what I found upon ripping that bag open. I was so shocked, I decided to write the CEO of the Snickers people. Below is the text of my letter:

To the Snickers Candy Bar Company:

While I wholeheartedly agree, as you apparently believe, that obesity is an enormous (sorry about the pun) problem in America. It is certainly possible that you yourself are obese and I, too, suffer from a certain unforeseen bulge around my wasteline that I am certain is largely (again, sorry about the pun) gravity related.

And while I could possibly laud you in your apparent attempt at resolving the colossal fat-related ills of our vast nation, I have no choice but to tell you that it is hugely unconscionable that you have reduced the size of your mini Snickers bars to a microscopic level. C’mon – they were already MINI Snickers. At a minimum you should, in all fairness, change the label on your packaging removing the word “Mini” and replacing it with “Microscopic.”

Or better yet – just realize that if someone wants to honk down Snickers bars, you have no control over that. You simply cannot take on that massive responsibility. I am certain your (enlarged) hearts were in the right place, but I think the execution is misplaced. For the love of all that is good and holy people, please make a mini Snickers bar that doesn’t require an electron microscope to see! I can’t afford an electron microscope! I can barely afford the Microscopic Snickers! They are so small I had to honk down half the bag in one sitting!

….Hey! Wait a minute! Nah, couldn’t be…

In addition to the slight cranial trauma, there has been a tad bit of indecision concerning the future. On my best days, making such decisions is an ugly affair but now it is even more so. I am within a day’s sail of my original goal. Less than 200 miles south, however, is a very nice, protected marina that appears as though it would be a better summer home for Shadow Marie. There are, as usual, many tradeoffs. One way or another, I will be soon making my way (sans boat) back to Cape Cod to get my truck. That should be another interesting adventure given that I have no idea how I’m going to accomplish it.

visit http://www.lifecaptions.com/blog/ for more stories of Mitch and Shadow Marie

So with the right price and a solid hull, a well worn and needy Saffanah became the hole in the water in which we have invested a bunch of money and few months of spare time. Some of the more substantial projects have included: