Life Is Not All Smooth Sailing

On Friday morning (May 30), Peter started working on the motor for the windlass. He took it apart on his small work bench in the engine room. Black oil oozed from it. Once he had the cover off, he discovered that one bearing was so badly worn that it was amazing the windlass worked at all. Luckily, in the vast stores of parts and hardware under our bed was a spare motor. When the new oil seal arrived in the early afternoon, the windlass was put back together and put in place on the bow. After a few tests, we determined that (as we thought the day before), we were good to go. 

The windlass motor

While Peter was installing the windlass, Shalako and I walked to the market one more time for more yogurt and Diet Coke. We wiped out their supply--one large bottle of Diet Coke and eight yogurts. Peter had suggested we needed to celebrate our upcoming departure (again) with ice cream from Scottish Highland Creamery. Having purchased it, Shalako and I walked back as quickly as possible to the boatyard. Our pace was slower than normal because I had woken up that morning with a painful left glutteal muscle strain, probably from getting into awkward positions cleaning the bimini the day before.

At 6:30 p.m., with two hours of daylight left, we departed the dock (again). With 10-12 knots of wind from the southeast and 1-2 feet of chop on the bay, we motorsailed to get to an anchorage as quickly as possible because strong northwest winds, gusting up to 35 knots, were predicted for the night. We dropped the anchor in 5 meters of water in Dun Cove, Maryland. Large homes with well-manicured lawns and piers into the water, each on a few acres of land and separated by groves of trees, punctuated the shoreline. Because the home owners desire open views of the water and lawns running down to the shore, the natural waterfront was altered, with reeds and grasses removed to suit their esthetics. Without the protection that the natural marshy areas provide, erosion occurred, and they have had to create walls of large blocks of unmortared stone to stop the eating away of the land by tides and storms. 

Waterfront homes, Dun Cove, Maryland

The wind did pick up in the night, creating a steady drone like a vacuum cleaner. Gentle waves rocked the boat as the she swung on her anchor.

On Saturday morning at 9:15 a.m., determined to continue north despite less than ideal weather conditions, we pulled up anchor and set sail. Or, at least we tried to set sail after we left Dun Cove and the shelter of Harris Creek, but the main halyard got stuck when the sail was only at the second spreader. The halyard would not go up or down, so we motored back to Dun Cove for protection from the wind. Peter ascended the mast in the bosun's chair, with me raising him slowly. At the second spreader, he could not identify any issue there, so up he went to the top, 65 feet above the water, where he saw that the halyard had come off the sheave and tangled. He was able to fix the problem and get down just as thunder started to rumble. We brought the sail down and tidied all the lines and put all the seat cushions in the pilot house just as the rain started. 

The main sail stuck at the second spreader

Peter in the bosun's chair at the second spreader

Peter ascending to the top of the mast

We stayed at anchor for four hours as successive squalls poured rain down on us, with lightning flashing nearby. Having enjoyed lunch and a nap, just before 5 p.m., we pulled up anchor and set off yet again. Unfortunately, we were headed NNW and the wind was from WNW, so we had to motorsail most of the way. The wind picked up and was gusty (The highest we saw was 36 knots.) and Peter had to take over the helm from the autopilot. It was cold at the wheel, so I went below to fetch a thick beanie for his head. In our forward cabin, I found that sea water had soaked the bed and was on the floor because the deck hatch had not been dogged down. What a soggy mess! Shalako came down and dogged the hatch and I took off some of the wet linens, but it was obvious that there was no way Peter and I were going to sleep together that night (although Shalako gallantly offered to sleep on one of the couches and help move everything stored on the top bunk of the aft cabin so we could sleep there, but that seemed like too much work to me). I was not to happy with Peter for forgetting to dog that hatch when he had the other ones after I cleaned them a few days ago.

After what seemed to be a very long time, during which I stayed below as much as possible to stay warm, we anchored on the southeast side of Kent Island at 9:40 at night. We seem to be developing a pattern of having dinner as late as 10:30 at night. While Peter and I are used to having dinner on no fixed time schedule, but usually between 7 and 8 when we are home, for Shalako dinner time has always been 6, so dinner at 10 is a bit of a stretch for him.

I woke up at 6:45 a.m. this morning, with Peter and Shalako soon opening their eyes also. The difference was that I looked at the hazy white sky and decided to roll over and sleep some more, while Peter and Shalako got up, made their cups of tea, and got to work. We realized during the previous bad-weather sailing yesterday evening that neither the dinghy nor its cover were properly secured. They remedied that situation and other small issues while I snoozed until almost 9 a.m. I cleared up the sheets and blankets Peter and I had used on the couches the night before, took the damp mattress cover and quilt up above to hang on the rails to dry in the sun and wind, did some cleaning and got cereals out for breakfast. (I usually make some type of egg meal for breakfast, but we were ready to get under way.) 

With 10-12 knots of west wind in the anchorage, we took up the anchor, with the windlass working flawlessly and much more quietly. At t 11 a.m, we set off. As we got out on the bay, the west wind picked up to 12-15 knots, later rising to about 20 knots and now having calmed down to 10-12. Although the air temperature on the water and wind chill still makes us prefer to wear our foulie jackets, the weather is much more pleasant than it has been for a while, and finally, we are sailing smoothly on a beam reach at 6 knots or more speed, even reaching 8.8 for a while when the wind speed was at its peak. (Peter noted that there are a lot of pleasure boats out on the water today, while we alone were on the water yesterday. That should have told us something.)

Peter and Shalako enjoying the great sailing

Approaching the Chesapeake Bay Bridge from the south

Going under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge

I believe that we are really on our way now!