Greetings from Hampton, Virginia!

After we left the dock in Marsh Harbour, we crossed the Sea of Abaco to Man-O-War Cay to anchor for lunch and get the spinnaker ready for sailing downwind in light winds.  It was our last view of the shallow pristine waters of the Bahamas before embarking on the vast deep water of the North Atlantic, where the water ranges in shades of dark blue in the sunshine (and turns sinister gray under dark clouds).  I will miss the gorgeous hues of the subtropical sea and the pure white sand of the beaches.

Man-O-War Cay

Rainbow as a storm moved past us, with calm seas

Sunrise between the boom and the bimini on the third day out

Our trip from Marsh Harbour to the Chesapeake Bay took five days on the open ocean, once again a few too many days for me.  Actually, it did not seem quite as tedious as the trip from Puerto Rico.  I broke out my coloring pencils and coloring book and amused myself while we sailed for hours and hours, or I practiced my knots, in addition to reading.  (I finished three books and started another.)

I could probably get used to the tedium, and Peter is very generous about staying up most of the night so I do not have to do more than a few hours of watch after dark.  But I get bored even on short night watches because I can't read or color or play anagrams by myself in the dark.  (Our daughter Katya has suggested downloading books from the library, which is a great idea because I could listen in the dark.)  But, still, I am diurnal, and I would rather sleep through the night.

The other major and perhaps more annoying problem with sailing through the night is that everything on deck, particularly the cushions and the pillows and sheets get damp.  (We like to sleep in the pilot house when we are underway.)  After sunset, the temperature drops ever so slightly and water invisibly leaks from the air as water droplets condense and deposit themselves on every piece of fabric topsides, even our clothing.  It is just not comfortable to sit or lie down above deck.  (Do they make foul weather shorts?)  At least this is true for me; Peter does not seem to be bothered.

Mantra is registered in the UK, so we fly a British flag.  But after we left the Bahamas, we hoisted the flag which reveals our true nature:  the large pirate flag Katya and Matthew gave Peter for his birthday in March.  It looks stunning against the blues and reds of the spinnaker!

Peter on the foredeck after hoisting our pirate flag

En route in the Gulf Stream along the east coast, we hove to (stopped the boat in the ocean by facing the wind and holding our position with a backed foresail) to swim in the sparkling blue water, as we had done ten years ago when we made a four day passage from Cape Canaveral to the Chesapeake on our former boat, Epicurus.  We thought we should make this a tradition.  In the Gulf Stream, the water is a more luminous blue and deeper in value than the surrounding waters.  (I don't know why the color is different, and I don't feel like researching it right now.)  While holding a line attached to the boat, we jumped in--one at a time, of course.  Two to three knots of current is very strong, so we kept a tight grip with both hands on the line.  Peter went first, stayed in the warm briefly and hauled himself up the swim ladder.  I followed suit, but when I got back to the swim ladder, I was able to grab it but the current kept sweeping my feet away from the bottom rung.  I was dangling there totally unable to climb the ladder!  Thinking quickly, Peter started the engine and eased her into reverse to counter the current, and I was able to make it up (without getting my limbs caught in the prop!).  That was a little bit more exciting than we had thought it would be.  Refreshed, we fell off from the wind and sailed again toward the northern horizon, surrounded by the sea.

Until Sunday afternoon, the weather was pleasant and we had following winds.  Sometimes the wind was light, but we had fairly good luck using the spinnaker.  We probably should have stopped when the weather turned stormy (as we knew it would--we had listened to the forecast), but we kept on (I must admit, against Peter's better instincts).  Once we passed Cape Lookout along the middle of the North Carolina coast, we were committed because the inlets of the barrier islands north of there are not navigable for a boat with our keel depth, nor are the protected sounds because they are too shallow.

As the entire sports fishing fleet that was out to sea from Cape Hattaras appeared on the eastern horizon and came roaring past us towards safe harbor as lightning sizzled and thunder reverberated in the charged atmosphere, we blithely sailed on with our spinnaker flying.  We actually skirted around the first thunderstorms and sailed through a drenching rain without any problems. (The boat and sails needed to be cleaned anyway.)

The thunderstorms were not the issue.  The problem did not start until the wind clocked to the northwest and then the north, so we were battling through oncoming waves with winds beating against our bow.  Ka-boom!  Ka-boom!  The bow rose high over waves and then smacked down again on the other side of the crests.  We tried tacking (zigzagging across the intended course) as the night settled in to avoid going head on into the wind, but even this was ineffective.  Peter wisely chose to power up as close to the shore as possible to get in the limited lee of the low-lying land.  Actual sailing was impossible, so we used the iron genoa (otherwise known as the engine), which we are loath to do.  In addition, the north wind was biting cold, and we were forced to don long pants, jackets and even shoes after the luxury of being barefoot and clad only in swimwear for days!  I pulled out the comforters.  Neither of us slept much, but it was Peter who actually took most of the punishment on the deck.  It seemed to take forever to reach the mouth of the Chesapeake.  In hindsight, we should have hove to at sea yesterday evening and slept through the night.  After 12 hours, the low pressure front passed, and the sun broke free of the overcast clouds a couple of hours after dawn.  The wind didn't abate much, but the sunshine made it all seem more bearable.

The whole Hampton Roads area is rife with military bases.  Norfolk, Virginia, has the largest U.S. naval fleet in the nation.  As we entered the Chesapeake, we heard on the radio that Warship 77 was departing from the dock en route to sea.  All vessels, as usual, were advised to give it a wide berth.  We stayed just south of the main shipping channel, and, after we had passed over the tunnel section of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, we saw it approaching.   I took photos as it got closer, which made Peter nervous, but, hey, I'm a tax-paying citizen, so it's my navy too.  As it was off our starboard forward quarter, one of the Coast Guard cutters (with guns mounted on the bows) escorting the aircraft carrier swerved away from its side and steered straight for us.  Over the radio, we were advised that we had to keep a distance of 500 yards (which we had done).  When Peter did not immediately and decisively alter course, they hailed us again, so Peter turned slightly to port.  He was sure that they had seen me taking photos and we were in trouble.  But I guess they decided we were not a threat to national security, and they left us alone. Luckily, our pirate flag was shielded by the mainsail, so they never learned our true identity!

US Navy Warship 77 leaving Norfolk

The day here in Hampton was gorgeous.  We walked about half a mile to get groceries (We had plenty of Diet Coke this time, but we ran out of tea bags for Peter.  I'm sure a British wife would have never let this happen!)  On the way, we passed some historic sites.  We learned that from this place, two British Royal navy ships under the command of Lt. Robert Maynard sailed out on November 17, 1718, with the intention of ridding the area of the notorious pirate Blackbeard, who was blockading the Virginia capes and plundering dozens of ships.  Four days later, Blackbeard and his cohorts were found at Ocracoke Inlet on the North Carolina coast, and the navy engaged them in battle.  The pirates boarded Maynard's sloop, and Maynard and Blackbeard fought hand-to-hand with pistols and sabers.  After a reported 20 sword lacerations and five musketball wounds, Blackbeard perished.  On returning to Hampton, Maynard had the pirate's severed head mounted on a tall pole at the entrance to the river as a warning to others not to interfere with British shipping at what was then the busiest, most important port in the colonies.

We also saw a charming red-brick house not far from the waterfront that is the oldest brick dwelling in what is America's oldest continuously occupied English-speaking city--Hampton, that is.  The Georgian style, two-story structure, called Ivy House, was built by sea captain John Herbert in 1757 as his plantation home.  It survived two fires and retains four of its original windows.

Ivy House by the Hampton River

Tomorrow morning we start sailing up the Chesapeake Bay for Baltimore, where Mantra will spend the summer.