Marblehead, Massachusetts

We picked up an Eastern Yacht Club mooring ball in Marblehead Harbor at 11 a.m. on Thursday (June 5). Starting out from Onset Bay at 1:00 a.m. earlier that day, Peter and I found ourselves somewhat frantic after we raised anchor because we had somehow neglected to notice on the charts that the marks for the meanandering channel into the bay are not lit, and Peter had not plotted a reverse course from our daylight arrival on Wednesday. Peter stood on the bow with a flashlight trying to find the marks from their reflectors. We veered off course once, but luckily into a bit of deeper water south of the channel, and we finally made it to the Cape Cod channel mark and turned to port. It was a bit of a harrowing experience.

We only encountered two tug boats going in the opposite direction while passing through the canal. In Cape Cod Bay, we were finally able to turn the engine off at 2:50 a.m., sailing on a port tack beam reach with no reefs in the main, cruising along at 7.5 knots. With the sail sets, I went down below to sleep; Shalako had just woken. Unfortunately, about an hour and a half later, the wind died and it was back to motor sailing. At 7:30, the wind clocked a bit, and we were able to return to quietness of sailing for the rest of the journey.

After we tidied up lines and things down below, we called for launch service and went to the very swank yacht club. I roamed around the rooms, and after Peter and Shalako finished their long, hot showers, we all went to lunch at the Patio restaurant. The hostess seated us at a table overlooking the harbor and then asked for our number. We looked at each other and asked, "What number?" "Your membership number," she replied. When we told her we were not members, she put her head close to us and whispered, "It's members only in the restaurant, but it's ok, just pay with a credit card." I guess we looked the part of the members of this exclusive club with its strict dress code. 

A meeting room at the Eastern Yacht Club

The formal dining room

View from the patio with the town across the harbor

The patio of the yacht club

The reading room

The foyer

Trophies

Shalako, Peter and Sherri ready for lunch to be served on the patio

Peter and Shalako with the harbor beyond

Lunch was delicious, and Peter and Shalako had burgers, getting a respite from my vegetarian cooking. Rain was predicted for Friday and Saturday, so we decided to take the launch across the harbor from Marblehead Neck, where the club is, to town. Peter noticed that American Promise, the boat used by the Rozalia Project to promote cleaning up the oceans, was on the harbormaster's dock. We went to visit and were given a tour of the interior by two volunteers on board. In 2021, we had encountered American Promise at Maniticus Island in Maine where we both had picked up moorings in the rocky harbor. Peter and Enis had assisted in them in a beach clean-up there. 

Shalako and Peter on the dock by American Promise

Then, we spent a couple hours wandering around the historic streets of Marblehead, founded in 1629, amazed at the number of lovely, well-preserved buildings from the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. About 300 existing houses and buildings were constructed before the Revolutionary War.

Fisherman's house built in 1683

Capt. Nicholas Bartlett House, 1800

House of William Furniss, a fisherman, 1751

Georgian-style brick house

House of John Watts, fisherman, 1723

Georgian-style home on Pleasant Street

Tower of Abbot Hall

We had overdressed for our first true day of summer weather and regretted it as the sun beat down on us. We rested for a while in the shade in Crocker Park enjoying the view of the harbor.

Peter and Shalako at Crocker Park

In Crocker Park, there is a plaque explaining that Marblehead is considered the birthplace of the American Navy. About 600 men (from a town with a population of about 950 families)--mostly skilled captains and mariners--volunteered, with their ships, to create General Washington's Navy, under the command of Colonel (later General at the age of 25) John Glover. It was Marblehead mariners who manned the boats the ferried Washington's Continental Army across the ice-choked Delaware River to Trenton on Christmas night in 1776 for a successful surprise attack on the British. 

In front of the Jeremiah Lee Mansion, we ran into Ashley Sullivan, the executive director of the Rozalia Project, and some other staff and interns. She told us about a showing of the film Around Alone in the garden of the house in the evening at 8 p.m., a movie using footage from the five cameras onboard American Promise when Maine native Dodge Morgan sailed solo and non-stop around the world in 1985. (He had commissioned the boat for this purpose.) 

The three of us returned to Mantra to rest and then have dinner. Shalako, who had been up since the early morning hours, chose not to go to the film showing, so Peter and I returned to town without him. (He was falling asleep sitting up when we left.) 

It was a beautiful evening. Ashley explained the history of the boat. After his adventure, Morgan donated his boat to the U.S. Navy for training. Unfortunately, she was sunk during a practice in the Chesapeake Bay in 1991. In 2010, she was purchased by the founders of the Rozalia Project and restored. Since 2013, the non-profit organization has used American Promise as a "trash hunting mothership," sailing around the coastal communities of northern New England. 

We were captivated by the film, although Peter wished that more attention was paid to the actual sailing decisions rather than the psychology of being at alone at sea for 150 days. The size of the waves and the intensity of the winds he encountered a lot of the time are not something I ever want to experience.

After the film and question and answer period, Peter and I strolled back to the State Street landing to pick up the launch, admiring the historic buildings beautifully lit.

Back of Jeremiah Lee Mansion

Florest shop on Washington Street

Historic mansion on Washington Street

Historic house on Washington Street

Of course, we were pretty tired also, so we immediately went to bed and slept through the night until 7 a.m. Peter decided to stay on board and finish the online portion of the Safety at Sea course we are taking, while Shalako and I went to town. Our first stop was the Jeremiah Lee Mansion, a three-story Georgian style building made of wood but designed and painted (originally including sand in the paint) to look like stone, a not uncommon practice at the time in colonial America. We were early, so we talked with the University of Massachusetts-Boston student working on an archeological dig in the side yard.

Dig site

Sifting dirt through screens

We were the only ones on the 90-minute 10:00 tour, and the volunteer was knowledgeable and engaging. Although most of the furnitures are not original, the flooring on the higher floors and the wallpaper up the grand staircase and on the second floor are. Jeremiah Lee, who was instrumental in getting armaments and supplies before the war started, died before it commenced. His widow lived in the house for a while, and then it became a bank for about 100 years. It was auctioned in the early 1900s and was purchased for $5,500 by the new Marblehead Historical Society, which has owned it since then.

Formal parlor for entertaining dignataries and special guests

Fire place in the dining room with cast iron decorated heat reflector and English tiles

Family dining room

Original linen and paper wallpaper

Guest bedroom

Canopy bed and original wallpaper in guest bedroom

Guest bedroom

After a quick stop for refreshments, we then went to Abbot Hall, constructed in 1876 to house the town's government. The item which is most prized in the museum inside the hall is Archibald Willard's painting The Spirit of '76, created for the centennial of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. There are also great exhibits about naval history, shoe manufacturing--the main industry of the town in the second half of the 19th century, the development of early amphibious planes by local manufacturer William Starling Burgess and other aspects of the town's history. A large public hall is located on the second floor with balconies accessed from the third floor. The wooden staircase to this chamber is lit by lovely stained glass windows.

Abbot Hall

Stairwell in Abbot Hall

Display of Brownie memorabilia with the women who started the Brownies in Marblehead in 1916

Balcony of the Abbot Hall meeting room

Stained glass in the stairwell

Woodwork on the staircase

To be continued...it is after 10:30 p.m. and we have to get a launch to the club at 7 a.m. tomorrow for an all-day U.S. Sailing Safety at Sea hands-on course. 

Onset Bay, Massachusetts

The two men went to their beds about half an hour ago, and I will be joining Peter as soon as I make a brief post. 

The rest of our 2-day, 2-night motorsailing went smoothly. I had the 9 p.m. to midnight watch last night, which was totally boring. Since we were motorsailing offshore, there was not much to see, just a few fishing boats and cargo ships in the distance. Sails did not need to tended, and we were on a direct course from Cape May to the Cape Cod Canal, so no course changes, tacks or jibes needed to be executed. 

Peter got up at midnight and took the next uneventful watch, with Shalako taking over from 3 to 6 a.m. Peter took the next watch, allowing me to get a full night's sleep. He spotted Block Island around 9 p.m. Shalako had been in his bunk since 6 a.m., and we did not see him until after noon.

It was fascinating to observe the great number of wind turbines off the coast of Rhode Island, with more being added. In Buzzard's Bay, we saw a barge being towed out to the sight of construction carrying three huge blades. 

Wind turbines in Rhode Island Sound

Construction of more wind turbines

We followed the Cape Cod Channel markers up to number 21 and turned to port just before we reached it, into Onset Bay, Massachusetts. We have anchored here two times in the past, so we knew to turn north just after we passed Onset Bay's marker 11. Shalako dropped the anchor in 6 meters of water. It is calm and we are well-protected from the 10 knot wind from the SSW.

Peter and I have set an alarm for midnight, when we will pull up anchor and head up through the canal into Cape Cod Bay and then on to Marblehead to pick up a mooring ball for three nights. We should arrive there by mid-morning on Thursday. 

Shalako's Things nobody talks about

 I've spent a lot of time building habits of how to move around the boat.  The top of the pilot house is only five feet so you have to duck a lot, a few days of banging my head and I've got the hang of it.  I had to learn wich foot to lead with, almost like dancing, when moving around. If you start with the correct foot it works smoothly, if the wrong foot you get tangled in lines as you cross your feet.  Got the hang of that.  then there is where to step on the deck so the correct foot takes you over the lines and into the center. Got all that down now and don't havce to think about it too much. 

The night watches sound bad but the sea is beautiful at night. The moon reflecting on the water, the gentle rack of the waves, except for that one day.  Very peaceful.  

After lots of work and instruction I've worked my way up from Swabbie to Deck Hand second class. I think lanyone that crawls over the bilge to get to the chain locker and pulls out a 100 feet of chain gets a promotion. 

We've been at sea almost two days and will anchor briefly tonight the get the tide through the canal into Cape Cod bay then sail all night again, 

Motorsailing on a Flat Blue Ocean

At 5:30 p.m. on June 1 (Sunday), we anchored at Stillwater Pond in five meters of water behind a headland which protected us from the NW wind. A few other boats had also found shelter there, but they were probably staying longer than we did. We were just waiting for a favorable tide through the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. We did a few little jobs, Peter and Shalako took showers (The last time was in Oxford), I made dinner for us and then we rested. 

Anchored in the aptly named Still Pond

At 8:10 p.m, we pulled up anchor and headed north, enjoying the various stages of a gorgeous sunset. I stood watch until around 10 p.m., and then Peter and Shalako were on watch together for the night. 

Before sunset, with the sun behind the clouds

Sunset reflected in the water

Sunset reflected on the top of the pilot house

The next thing I knew, I was being awaken to be at the navigation station to guide us into the peaceful, remote and deep Cohansey River in New Jersey, on the north side of the Delaware Bay, where we have enjoyed anchoring before. We dropped the anchor at 4:50 a.m., having safely made it through the canal with its fairly heavy traffic of cargo ships and tankers, listening to the melodic march wrens and watching the sky brighten in the east.

At anchor in the Cohansey River

Later that morning, after we had all rested, Peter revealed to us that we had had a close call. He had gone to the nav station to check on our course. He determined to alter course, planning to move from the outside of the channel on the right (south) to the left (north) side. Having made the adjustments on the chart plotter, he went to the wheel to execute the plan. While he was looking at the monitor, he had noticed a large ship in the channel, but somehow he forgot about it on deck. He was just entering the channel when he saw the monster looming ahead and quickly darted back to the outside of the channel buoys. He is sure that the ship's captain was just getting ready to blast his horn five times! Peter showed us a picture in Nigel Calder's Cruising Handbook.

Peter in the night!

It was so peaceful in the wide river and sunny and warm enough that we could shed some layers of clothing, so we decided to spend the morning and afternoon there. We inspected our life jackets, making sure they are good to go. While Peter was getting out beacons from the emergency locker, he noticed the jack lines, which we had totally forgotten to run from bow to stern. In addition to taking care of that task, Peter and Shalako spent hours on the foredeck untangling the anchor chain, ensuring that the rigging and whisker pole were set up properly to fly wing on wing (with two headsails and no mainsail) and doing other jobs. I did three loads of laundry, using the sunshine and wind to dry the clothes on the lifelines; cleaned the salt from the pilot house windows (greatly improving visibility); and pulled out all the manuals for almost everything on the boat, from the engine, the alternator, the generator, the hot water heater and other equipment in the engine room; the stove/oven, faucets, refrigerator and freezer in the galley as well as appliances such as the microwave, the toaster and the hand-held blender; the air conditioning and heat; all the electronic equipment and wiring; and many other things. They are all stored in a small cabinet in the saloon, and they needed adminstrative attention as new manuals need to be added and manuals for items such as the watermaker, which we got rid of years ago, need to be discarded. We also have most of the receipts for boat maintenance and repair as well as clearance papers from the previous owners as well as five or six almost identical, fairly thick documents about Mantra written by Steve and Linda Dashew, the designers. I think we can toss a few of them. 

Laundry day

We wanted to use the current to our advantage for the rest of the trip down the Delaware Bay, so we departed from our idyllic location at 6:35 p.m. and headed out to sea. I made dinner for us and cleaned up the dishes and the galley. At 9:00, Shalako and Peter went to bed, and I was on watch until midnight, listening to Amy Tan's The Backyard Bird Chronicles with my earbuds, which allow me to continue to monitor the radio. We passed by the Cape May, New Jersey, lighthouse around midnight, and Peter took his turn at the helm. Even though we were motorsailing, we were tilting just a little, so we slept on the port couch rather than put up lee sheets on our bed. 

I woke up at 7:30 this morning and found Peter on watch. He had chivalrously allowed me to get a full night's sleep. The blue water was beautifully calm as we were heading up the New Jersey coast (no land in sight since Atlantic City) and south of the middle of Long Island there is now a tiny bit of a swell. Peter has slowed down a bit on his work today, but it is difficult for him not to tinker. The three of us played a game of Scrabble, Shalako and I read for a while, I did some crossword puzzles and some coloring and made meals. Peter has wired up the Starlink, so we have Internet. It's good to be able to update the blog, send a few texts and emails and make phone calls, but I must admit it is somewhat pleasant to be disconnected. 

Motorsailing on the Atlantic Ocean

Today's coloring

We have been marveling at the animal world. A zale lunata moth appeared on the bimini railing; perhaps its chrysalis was attached to some part of the boat and it has just emerged as a adult while we have been sailing.

Zale lunata moth on board

Shalako was the first to spot dolphins, and we have passed two small pods. It is always a thrill to see them.

Dolphins off the starboard stern

I should think about dinner for the three of us and take a nap before I am on watch at 9 p.m.

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!