It's hard to believe, but we just might try this again. I cant' quite decide if we are foolish or brave. The idea this time is to take off the end of October 2009 with the Caribbean 1500, perhaps from Charleston (that really makes it the Carib 1300, but don't tell the big boats that, OK?) Then we'd leave Aquila in the BVI for the winter and sail back up with the Atlantic Cup in 2010. Should we? Could we? Only time will tell...
I really don't want to give up the idea of cruising. It scares the crap out of me. Sailing the oceans. Sailing in general! And I still want to do it. Maybe...maybe someday...maybe someday we can even do the whole thing. Circumnavigate, that is. Around the whole world. I'm thinking about it, really. Thinking.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The Ocracoke Summer
Each summer since we got Aquila, we have developed a nickname for that year. The first summer was, the first summer (how original is that?). The next summer was Bermuda. Summer of 2007 was The Whale. And 2008? It's the ocracoke summer. We went there for Labour Day and for Fourth of July, and we hope to make it at least one more time.
One of our best, and most memorable trips to Ocracoke occurred the first year we had the boat. We used to only imagine sailing to Ocracoke, and never ever imagined we would sail beyond the shore. Ocracoke still holds a special place in our hearts as the first achievement in becoming 'cruisers'.
It was November, so we left the dock before daylight so we could get to Silver Lake before the sun set. The sail over was easy, not too cold, not too breezy. It was a little rough, and I learned that the seasickness remedy of the electro-band really can work. The Pamlico Sound is shallow, and a steady breeze can really work up a sea--the Pamlico chop is well known for it's steep sides and short intervals.
Abby was just learning to ride a bike--so after docking at the NPS docks (as usual in the winter, we had the place to ourselves), we rented bikes at the Pony Motel in what has now become a tradition.
We were hoping to eat out one night, but when we tried questioning someone who appeared to be a local at the fishing docks, we weren't sure if anything was even open! It might have been the dialect/accent, it might have been that there really wasn't anything open. Either way, we enjoyed our meal on the boat and saved some money, too.
The most remarkable part of this trip was during our departure from the Island. Again, we left before sunup. The light in the Ocracoke Lighthouse (circe 1823, second oldest operating in the US) was still lit. As we left the harbour, we saw hundreds of low flying cormorants. It appeared they were migrating, to and from where we did not know. Wave after wave of cormorants as we motored out the channel usually occupied by ferries and sailboats. The dredge islands were used as brief wayside stops on the cormorant-train. It was one of the most remarkable sights I have even seen.
I have since learned that this type of 'migration' is unusual. Some years there are hundreds of thousands of birds in this migration. Other years, there are only a couple thousand. (It could just be that no one has counted the cormorants every year. I don't know.)
This year, we have done a few other trips as well, taking our dockmaster and dockmistress on a day trip to Cape Lookout (which was a blast, thanks Paul and Mitzi!), and an overnight on the South River. That overnight was memorable because we finally overcame our fear of jellyfish and just jumped off the boat at the anchorage and swam around. We have often done this while at Cape Lookout, but the Pamlico Sound?? While sailing we have seen schools of jellyfish (do they travel in schools/ herds/piles? whatever, there were millions, nay, billions of jellyfish!). But we spent a few hours in the water, and no one got stung, or even saw a jellyfish.
Earlier in this blog, I mentioned that NC is the REAL Virgnina, having been christened Virginia after the Virgin Queen Elizabeth when the Lost Colony was settled on Roanoke Island. Well, today, I found out that not only are we VIRGINIA, we are also CHINA. Apparently, when G. da Verrazano (NYers will recognize this name from the bridge) came up the NC coast in 1524, he could not find a way through the channels in the various inlets leading from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pamlico Sound, and he concluded that the Sound was in fact the Pacific Ocean, which would make Oriental--well, the Orient! Isn't that cool? The story goes that it took cartographers over 100 years to correct Verrazanos little mistake, until then the geography must have been something like (east to west) Atlantic Ocean, Outer Banks, Pacific Ocean, China, Russia, Europe. I wonder how true this story is...
One of our best, and most memorable trips to Ocracoke occurred the first year we had the boat. We used to only imagine sailing to Ocracoke, and never ever imagined we would sail beyond the shore. Ocracoke still holds a special place in our hearts as the first achievement in becoming 'cruisers'.
It was November, so we left the dock before daylight so we could get to Silver Lake before the sun set. The sail over was easy, not too cold, not too breezy. It was a little rough, and I learned that the seasickness remedy of the electro-band really can work. The Pamlico Sound is shallow, and a steady breeze can really work up a sea--the Pamlico chop is well known for it's steep sides and short intervals.
Abby was just learning to ride a bike--so after docking at the NPS docks (as usual in the winter, we had the place to ourselves), we rented bikes at the Pony Motel in what has now become a tradition.
We were hoping to eat out one night, but when we tried questioning someone who appeared to be a local at the fishing docks, we weren't sure if anything was even open! It might have been the dialect/accent, it might have been that there really wasn't anything open. Either way, we enjoyed our meal on the boat and saved some money, too.
The most remarkable part of this trip was during our departure from the Island. Again, we left before sunup. The light in the Ocracoke Lighthouse (circe 1823, second oldest operating in the US) was still lit. As we left the harbour, we saw hundreds of low flying cormorants. It appeared they were migrating, to and from where we did not know. Wave after wave of cormorants as we motored out the channel usually occupied by ferries and sailboats. The dredge islands were used as brief wayside stops on the cormorant-train. It was one of the most remarkable sights I have even seen.
I have since learned that this type of 'migration' is unusual. Some years there are hundreds of thousands of birds in this migration. Other years, there are only a couple thousand. (It could just be that no one has counted the cormorants every year. I don't know.)
This year, we have done a few other trips as well, taking our dockmaster and dockmistress on a day trip to Cape Lookout (which was a blast, thanks Paul and Mitzi!), and an overnight on the South River. That overnight was memorable because we finally overcame our fear of jellyfish and just jumped off the boat at the anchorage and swam around. We have often done this while at Cape Lookout, but the Pamlico Sound?? While sailing we have seen schools of jellyfish (do they travel in schools/ herds/piles? whatever, there were millions, nay, billions of jellyfish!). But we spent a few hours in the water, and no one got stung, or even saw a jellyfish.
Earlier in this blog, I mentioned that NC is the REAL Virgnina, having been christened Virginia after the Virgin Queen Elizabeth when the Lost Colony was settled on Roanoke Island. Well, today, I found out that not only are we VIRGINIA, we are also CHINA. Apparently, when G. da Verrazano (NYers will recognize this name from the bridge) came up the NC coast in 1524, he could not find a way through the channels in the various inlets leading from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pamlico Sound, and he concluded that the Sound was in fact the Pacific Ocean, which would make Oriental--well, the Orient! Isn't that cool? The story goes that it took cartographers over 100 years to correct Verrazanos little mistake, until then the geography must have been something like (east to west) Atlantic Ocean, Outer Banks, Pacific Ocean, China, Russia, Europe. I wonder how true this story is...
End of trip trip across the North Island
So, it's true. The North Island of NZ, being warmer (this was a very hard thing for a Northern Hemispherian to adapt to--the idea that NORTH is WARM and SOUTH is COLD), does really have more boats. We loved the east cost up through the Coromandel, and all of us enjoyed our stay in Auckland. We got to take the ferry across the Cook Straits to Wellington, and stayed in a hotel overlooking the harbour there. Rotorua (where we got to take a ride on a SEAplane), the Coromandel and it's beautiful bays, and then Auckland. Where we got to join the other tourists for a 2 hour-tour on a retired America's Cup boat. THAT was a blast. I even got to go into the pit to pull in the spinnaker. How many people get to do that in their lifetimes, huh? Expensive, but well worth it.
Flying home was both sad and exciting. Maybe next time we get to NZ we will be in our own boat. Another dream come true!
Flying home was both sad and exciting. Maybe next time we get to NZ we will be in our own boat. Another dream come true!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Spring on the Pamlico
We're not home yet, and it's fall here in New Zealand, but we are really looking forward to spring in NC. We expect to back at the boat the first weekend in May, and hopefully we will only have to turn the key, and vroom, off we'll go.
Actually, even if we end up just working on the boat all weekend, I am really looking forward to getting back to the boat.
We've been on one charter since we arrived here, and will be going on another one this weekend. But here on the South Island, boating is not a big deal. We have heard, but have no first hand evidence, that the North Island is where all the boating action is. We will see in 4 weeks when we head up there for our end of trip trip.
Actually, even if we end up just working on the boat all weekend, I am really looking forward to getting back to the boat.
We've been on one charter since we arrived here, and will be going on another one this weekend. But here on the South Island, boating is not a big deal. We have heard, but have no first hand evidence, that the North Island is where all the boating action is. We will see in 4 weeks when we head up there for our end of trip trip.
Friday, January 11, 2008
What we didn't tell you...
In October, just before we left for New Zealand, we brought Aquila home. Everything worked fine, and the trip was utterly uneventful. Except for getting 'blown' up on that log.
Just a mile down the ICW below where we hit the "LOG" that ruined our prop. rudder and strut is a bridge. After we left the Atlantic Yacht Basin, we motored up to the bridge, and took our place in line behind a power boat and in front of two mega yachts. The bridge tender called to us on Channel 13 (is there information in this number?) to tell us he had commercial traffic coming through and we needed to keep clear. In regular language, this means a barge gets to come through the bridge FIRST after it opens and we peons need to stay out of it's way. We dutifully headed to starboard as far as we were comfortable, which was just inside a pile of logs with a small tree growing out of it.
The barge came through at full speed, putting up quite a wake, which lifted Aquila and pushed her to starboard, and, you guessed it, right on the pile of logs. Damn.
Always aware Captain Bob carefully put her in reverse, and carefully revved the engine, backing Aquila up. Of course, as the barge was RIGHT BEHIND US, he was backing right in to a speeding (well maybe 10 knots!) barge. The barge honked, the other boats looked confused, and Bob backed in a complete circle, forcing his way back in line to get through that blasted bridge.
Many hours of motoring later, we arrived at our campsite, or anchorage, for the night, just south of the end of the Albemarle-Pungo Canal. We joined several other boats, both power and sail, just as the sun was setting.
As I was cleaning up after dinner, Bob said "You gotta see this."
I came up to the cockpit, and he pointed at another recent arrival. I squinted, but couldn't see anything. "Should I get the binoculars?" I asked in my normal voice, not quite understanding the need for secrecy.
"NO. SHHHH." He pointed again toward the man sunbathing on his foredeck. "He's naked."
All the more reason, I thought, to get out the binoculars.
Just a mile down the ICW below where we hit the "LOG" that ruined our prop. rudder and strut is a bridge. After we left the Atlantic Yacht Basin, we motored up to the bridge, and took our place in line behind a power boat and in front of two mega yachts. The bridge tender called to us on Channel 13 (is there information in this number?) to tell us he had commercial traffic coming through and we needed to keep clear. In regular language, this means a barge gets to come through the bridge FIRST after it opens and we peons need to stay out of it's way. We dutifully headed to starboard as far as we were comfortable, which was just inside a pile of logs with a small tree growing out of it.
The barge came through at full speed, putting up quite a wake, which lifted Aquila and pushed her to starboard, and, you guessed it, right on the pile of logs. Damn.
Always aware Captain Bob carefully put her in reverse, and carefully revved the engine, backing Aquila up. Of course, as the barge was RIGHT BEHIND US, he was backing right in to a speeding (well maybe 10 knots!) barge. The barge honked, the other boats looked confused, and Bob backed in a complete circle, forcing his way back in line to get through that blasted bridge.
Many hours of motoring later, we arrived at our campsite, or anchorage, for the night, just south of the end of the Albemarle-Pungo Canal. We joined several other boats, both power and sail, just as the sun was setting.
As I was cleaning up after dinner, Bob said "You gotta see this."
I came up to the cockpit, and he pointed at another recent arrival. I squinted, but couldn't see anything. "Should I get the binoculars?" I asked in my normal voice, not quite understanding the need for secrecy.
"NO. SHHHH." He pointed again toward the man sunbathing on his foredeck. "He's naked."
All the more reason, I thought, to get out the binoculars.
Friday, July 13, 2007
In my mind, we're back in Carolina
Got a call from James Taylor at the Atlantic Yacht Basin (my apologies James, I bet you get these jokes all the time). They hauled our boat and found that...ta da...the rudder was bent and the prop was...missing it's blades. Bob told him we bought that propeller because we can sail sooo much faster if our prop has no blades! He said there was also some structural damage, but not much. We have not yet heard from the insurance company, and we have no idea when we will get the boat back.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Vacation is over.
We've been back for a week, and it still feels odd. Leah goes home tomorrow, Abby starts school on Monday, and I suppose I'll have to go back to work. No word from the boatyard on our below-the-waterline repairs, but we're not quite ready to go anywhere anyway.
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