The Cruiser Babe is ready to go. Blue, pink, yellow, and orange do match, so long as you wear a man watch. Isn't she cute?
At midnight, on the eve of our departure from Charleston, we changed our destination from Cape Lookout to the Poquoson River just inside the mouth of the Chesapeake. Our route would be just under 500 NM and take 4 days and 3 nights give or take. Rounding Hatteras and a Friday departure sounded like a good combination. The forecast looked good and we knew we could always bail out so long as we did it before passing Cape Lookout.
Friday morning we tried to listen to Chris Parker on the SSB one last time, but propagation was terrible as it had been all week, so we got no help from him. We checked Passage Weather and Sail Flow and the forecast still looked good, however hints of possible scattered squalls started to surface.
Prior to our departure, we had endured a couple of bouncy nights at anchor but it didn't get any better after weighing anchor. We waited until 9:30 am to up anchor to ensure a daytime arrival at the Chesapeake. We can run the ship channels in the Chesapeake at night, but the bay is infested with crab pots, so we prefer to have daylight.
With the wind against tide, leaving the Charleston Inlet was quite rough. We thought conditions would improve once we left the channel, but it turned out to be a rough passage. All the models predicted 2 to 4 foot seas but it was not to be.
We sailed until 3 the following morning with all 3 sails and the main slightly reefed. The wind was more from the east than was forecast, which put us on a close reach (wind forward of the beam) instead of a broad reach (wind aft of the beam) or a run (behind the boat). In our lake sailing days, I loved close reaching or close hauled sailing, but with 5 to 6 foot swells on the beam it's not so much fun.
At 3 the wind died, so it was motor sailing for the rest of the trip. With the swells on our beam we were like a Grandfather Clock sans cuckoo bird for the whole trip.
We enter our latitude and longitude into our log every hour on the hour like they did in the old days. That way, when the Chinese finally decide to shoot down our satellites, we have a reference to plot our position on our paper charts. It will also be helpful if lightning knocks out our GPSs.
Nightfall brought with it a spectacular view of the stars. It didn't take long before lightening started to chase us from behind, then on both sides, and eventually appeared in front of us as well. It was still clear above us with the stars as beautiful as ever. As I've said before, with our 57 foot mast, I'm mucho scardo of lightening, but it did not pounce on us.
Sunrise exposed the clouds to our east that threatened all night.
A tad bit of instability.
We found some shade. Who needs a bimini?
Friday morning we tried to listen to Chris Parker on the SSB one last time, but propagation was terrible as it had been all week, so we got no help from him. We checked Passage Weather and Sail Flow and the forecast still looked good, however hints of possible scattered squalls started to surface.
Prior to our departure, we had endured a couple of bouncy nights at anchor but it didn't get any better after weighing anchor. We waited until 9:30 am to up anchor to ensure a daytime arrival at the Chesapeake. We can run the ship channels in the Chesapeake at night, but the bay is infested with crab pots, so we prefer to have daylight.
With the wind against tide, leaving the Charleston Inlet was quite rough. We thought conditions would improve once we left the channel, but it turned out to be a rough passage. All the models predicted 2 to 4 foot seas but it was not to be.
We sailed until 3 the following morning with all 3 sails and the main slightly reefed. The wind was more from the east than was forecast, which put us on a close reach (wind forward of the beam) instead of a broad reach (wind aft of the beam) or a run (behind the boat). In our lake sailing days, I loved close reaching or close hauled sailing, but with 5 to 6 foot swells on the beam it's not so much fun.
At 3 the wind died, so it was motor sailing for the rest of the trip. With the swells on our beam we were like a Grandfather Clock sans cuckoo bird for the whole trip.
We enter our latitude and longitude into our log every hour on the hour like they did in the old days. That way, when the Chinese finally decide to shoot down our satellites, we have a reference to plot our position on our paper charts. It will also be helpful if lightning knocks out our GPSs.
Nightfall brought with it a spectacular view of the stars. It didn't take long before lightening started to chase us from behind, then on both sides, and eventually appeared in front of us as well. It was still clear above us with the stars as beautiful as ever. As I've said before, with our 57 foot mast, I'm mucho scardo of lightening, but it did not pounce on us.
Sunrise exposed the clouds to our east that threatened all night.
A tad bit of instability.
We found some shade. Who needs a bimini?
After rocking and rolling all day and night, and with the unstable atmosphere, we easily convinced ourselves to not round Hatteras this time around. So, after checking weather again, we decided to alter course and head for Cape Lookout.
A little birdie told me... OK, what's with these birds? This guy did not die on us. He flew off after a couple hours of rest. We could not offer him water because it was too rough. The picture looks calm, but the swells were knocking us around pretty good.
We had another one stay with us on our way from Ft. Pierce to Charleston. That trip was calm, and he bathed in the water we provided him, then flew off. Lisa thinks she can restore her baby bird sitting resume to good standing. Hard to do when one died on you though.
When we finally made it to our anchorage, our worst fears were realized---holiday weekend + nice anchorage + close to several cities = lots of boats. I know my consumer math. But it is a large anchorage, and our anchor was down at 11:30 pm.
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