It began as a way to get to a french parlaying-land without crossing the big pond… destination: St. Pierre and Miquelon, two French islands right here on my own continent, Allons-y!  Then, in mid-conjugation of aller in the passé composé, I exclaimed, “Zut Alors! There are icebergs nearby!” And thus the quest commenced: Can I see an iceberg from the deck of my boat? I wonder. Oops, too late, the dusty old cogs have been set in motion, and my brain is up and running. I’ve learned to just let that rusty hunk of junk upstairs go once it gets started… it’s a delicate process and I don’t want to derail it before the coal car is empty.

Icebergs and French: Summer 2011.

Lots to do to prepare for a trip up north. Only 6 months till I cast off my lines for some of the coldest, foggiest waters on the planet. But most of those months will be spent snow covered in sub-freezing temperatures, shivering aboard Elizabeth, drinking tea, fussing with my kerosene heater, while dying a slow death from mild CO poisoning. Gosh, hope I make it.

It’s a fairly long trip up to Iceberg Alley, and we need to be there as early as possible. May is the peak month for icebergs. Don’t let May flowers fool you, it’s damn cold in May out on the water… no flowers out there, that’s for sure. In Newfoundland, the ryme goes: April snow-showers bring May growlers.

So, while today I think about winter covers, and the weight of wet snow on my frame… ce soir I’ll dream about dodging growlers at night, in the fog. And tomorrow, I’ll try to get started on a plan, cuz im ‘Berg Bound’!

This is a guest post by Rick Patton, fellow blog reader and crew aboard Elizabeth for our Long Island Cruise. Rick tells it like it is from a “newbie” perspective. Thanks Rick!

At 3:30 on the 18th I called Ben on my cell to let him know I’d arrived. The timing was perfect as I stepped out of the airport, Ben was rounding the corner in his green VW. I knew it was him instantly even though we’d never met. As we drove to Huntington Harbor we talked as if we known each other for 20 years.  We stopped for provisions for the trip and found we both liked pretty much the same things, and we were not going to go hungry!

I just knew when we arrived at the harbor I’d be able to pick out Elizabeth, but to my dismay I could not find her. We boarded the harbor launch and weaved our way out to her mooring. Halfway out I spotted her and she’s more beautiful than her pictures. When we boarded it was like déja vu, I’d been here before, in pictures. It was comfortable being in Ben’s home he gave me the 50 cent tour and showed me my berth on the starboard setee, it even had a hole (opening) so my legs could stretch out when I laid down.  Slept like a baby the whole trip…
We departed Huntington Harbor around noon on the 19th. We slipped our mooring and motored out of the harbor. It was a great Sunday and lots of weekend boaters were out.  Ben let me take her out of the harbor and into Long Island Sound. You have to understand I’m a newbie at this and all the boat traffic made me pay close attention to my driving. I did see Ben keeping an eye on me to make sure everything went smoothly.  Ben is a great teacher with lots of patience.

Ben pretty much gave a day to day update of our passage in the past two posts. I just want to tell you how incredible it was. I’ve sailed everyday in my mind but in reality I’ve never even spent the night on a sailboat until this trip. We encountered everything from dead calm to maybe 3 foot seas, and even a lightening storm. I found it exhilarating except when I went below decks…instant stomach roll over. I was fine on deck, so when the seas built I found myself on deck most of the time, loved it, we even buried the rail and that made my eyes go wide, then I realized Elizabeth would take care of us.

I don’t know how many of you know that Ben is a musician. He plays the drums.  What he is famous for however, is being able to make sound come out of his body that would fill an orchestra pit and I do mean PIT!!!  When the boat would fill with the sounds of his orchestra, all the hatches and ports would have to be opened to let the sound out!!!  With the addition of my own orchestra, the sounds were combined which created a unique experience that I won’t soon forget!

Ben is also known the world over as the cookie monster. He made the most fantastic cookies ever.  While we were sailing he would go below to the galley and bake home made cookies. The aroma would drift up the hatch to the cockpit and the cookies would be irresistible. I gained 2 pounds just on cookies.

On the 24th of September we dropped sails for the last time and motored back into Huntington Harbor. I felt sad that the adventure was coming to an end. Then I realized that I had just made a friend for life. It was cool to have a young man teach and show an older one so many wonderful and new things. I will never forget.

Sag Harbor is lovely in the shoulder season. No crowds. I like to anchor outside the breakwater to the east in about 10′ of water, but it’s a tad far from the dinghy dock. I sold my outboard in Miami. I row exclusively. The Fatty Knees 7′ dinghy rows about as fast as it motored. What a superb rowing machine. It can be a bit wet in a wake or a chop, due to low freeboard, but in relatively flat water, she is a dream.

Rick has a real fetish for seafood. The Dockhouse, right on the town wharf in Sag satisfies every time. Lobster Roll was the satiator this time. Here’s Rick gobbling down his lunch time L.R. [and chowder] in finest form.

The morning after our fantastic dinner with Gene and Michelle, we took a quicky tour of Audacious, Billy Joel’s boat, and then sailed off the hook with a double reef in the main and the stays’l. It was blowing a weak 20knots. I was probably a little under canvased for the down wind run towards Plum Gut.

Current… it’s either with you or it’s against you. Often it’s totally with you in the A.M., cheering you on to victory, only to pull a bi-polar disorder on you in the P.M. and be totally against you… squashing any chance of a win. As we sailed through Plum Gut, the water between Orient Point and Plum Island, the tide changed and the ebb began. At the same time, as often happens, the wind began to die. We had plans to sail nearly due north to the Connecticut River. But the current had other plans for us… out to sea via The Race, then onto Block Island. We made a valiant effort to resist the currents push, but found ourselves literally going backwards, even as we made headway through the water at 1 knot. It’s like running on a treadmill that’s going just a little too fast for comfort. And if the earth was flat like a treadmill, we would have probably fallen off the back.

Yanmar to the rescue. We motored bravely towards the Connecticut River with plans to head up to Essex – supposed to a cute old new england style town with lots of history. Indeed it was. We anchored on the east side of the river in 11′ of water and rowed directly across to the Essex Boat Works dinghy dock, for a walkabout town…which accidently turned into dinner ashore at Griswolds. Once again the seafood options got the better of Rick, and I wasn’t going to object to clams casino and some shrimp cocktail, and then another order of clams casino! Great stop up in Essex, worth the trip.

September IS great cruising up here in New York. Rick Patton a fellow reader of this blog flew out to join me for a week long sail. With no particular destination, some good autumn winds and a fantastic forecast, we left Huntington and set an eastward course.

Well, I guess we went food shopping beforehand, and fueled up, and took on water, oh and pumped out the holding tank. So, while checking the oil before firing up, I noticed a leak at the Racor fuel filter. The drain screw was leaking slightly. I went to tighten it — SNAP. Sheered the plastic screw right off… a steady stream of diesel made its way to the bilge. Typical.  This is how all good trips begin… with a little test of your skills, a warning, a curveball, a pop quiz… a keep-you-on-your-toes moment.

Drain the bowl. Call the local chandlery. Go ashore. Root through the various boxes of plastic screws, bronze screws etc… Wait for the owner to go “in the back” and amazingly – find the replacement part is in stock… ordered many years ago for a customer, but never picked up. One hour later, back aboard Elizabeth, Racor full, not leaking, engine running. Easy Bake Oven baking. Ooh I just love the Plaza.

New Haven, CT seemed like a fine destination as we motored eastward at 5 knots. The wind had peetered out as the day drew on, and the sun was setting fast. It’ll be an easy anchorage to approach in the dark, I thought. The wind was forecast to go Northerly overnight and increase to 15-20kts. I wanted a spot protected from the southerly swell AND the northerly wind. Morris Cove in New Haven fit the bill well.

Day 2: What a fantastic sail we had in 15-20, with gusts to 25kts. Set double reef in the main, and stays’l. Haul back anchor. Sail off hook. We made our way out of New Haven, and set a course to hug the Connecticut shore, where we could stay in the lee, avoiding the building waves further out in the Sound. We buried the rail a few times as the wind gusted to 25 or more. The look on Rick’s face… priceless. His death grip on the tiller… inspiring. My hair blowing in the breeze… gorgeous. Ship’s speed… 6.5kts.

The day ended at a lovely anchorage in Peconic Bay, tucked into the lee of Cutchogue, NY. Engine hours: 0. We made a split pee soup and apple caesar salad, and relaxed our tired, wind and sun burnt bodies. Rick was fast asleep by 2030… a new record aboard Elizabeth.

Can’t seem to help myself… every year I need a fix of the good old Maine – The Promised Land, as dubbed by my college roomate so long ago. Six days aboard the Lewis R. French this past June was just an appetizer. I’m headed back for a full meal in a few weeks. For years I’ve had a goal to sail past Schoodic Point. I did make it past, back in 2007, with my Nor’sea Chamois, but just barely. I circumnavigated The Petit Manan Lighthouse, and anchored in Corea. Hardly a sufficient effort. This will be Elizabeth’s first trip to Maine… wait, is that right? Hard to believe, but yes… it will be.

I’m planning a few pitstops. First will be Provincetown, MA to pick up Rosie and Darrah for the overnight trip to Penobscot Bay. Then it’s on to Lamoine, ME to grab Paul Bowden for a few days. In the midst of this, I hope to find the Lewis R. French for a night at anchor together, and hopefully, a yummy breakfast cooked on the ship’s wood burning stove.  There has also been talk amongst a few fellow BCCs: Itchen and Dawn B, to try and meet up somewhere in the Bay for a night or two.

From there I plan to head downeast – solo, and explore the harbors of Narraguagus and Englishman Bays, with proposed anchorages at Jonesport, Roque and Great Wass.  I have not seen the forbidden territory East of Schoodic since 1991, when I sailed aboard the bright topsided, S&S yawl Aquilla, owned by the Windels family. This will be a treat.

After my solo jaunt, it’s back to Mt. Desert to pick up a blog-follower, Rick Patton for a week of sailing towards Portland, ME. And then from there, towards home via Portsmouth, NH where I’ll meet up with BCC Talaris. I won’t be heading back to Martha’s Vineyard this winter, nor will I be making way for Miami or other warm climates. No, I’m heading to another place I call home… Long Island, NY. A wretched hive of…

Here are two common conversation scenarios I experienced while out on this short stint cruising:

1.
“What kind of boat is that?”
“It’s a Bristol Channel Cutter.”
“Oh a Bristol, I’ve heard of those, nice.”

2.
“Where are you from?”
“Uh… ya mean where did I come from yesterday?”
“No, where do you call home?”
“Hmmm, good question… well, this boat is my home, so I’m from right here, I guess.”
“No, I mean, where did you leave from on your trip?”

So I guess I’m officially home now, because I’ve managed to find my way back to where I started. The epoxy coated breadcrumbs were a good idea after all. I sailed approximately 3030 nautical miles on this little jaunt -  maybe I should’ve titled this post “After 3000 Miles”.

What have I learned? That the Bristol Channel Cutter is just pure pleasure to sail. My all time favorite thing that just gets me giddy inside everytime I do it, is reefing the main… 30 seconds is all it takes. No climbing on cabin tops, no stretching over the side for snagged lines, no cursing the flogging sail – just simple, quick, efficient sail reduction, like Neptune intended.

What’s broken, been replaced, or worn out? Max Amp Alternator died, Yanmar Starter fried, All 4 West Marine AGM Group 31  batteries were useless and replaced, Isotherm ASU and holding plate died and was swapped with an Alder Barbour Cold Machine and large evaporator plate, Simrad TP32 Tiller Pilot groans like a pig and can’t steer a straight course, the Raytheon ST60 Wind Indicator never worked, the Stuffing Box Shaft Packing runs like a faucet, and the Fatty Knees Dinghy took some major abuse, but still rows like a dream. Plenty of others, but this is the big stuff.

As the sun rose over Cuttyhunk and Vineyard Sound this morning I realized: I may have arrived “home”, but the voyaging is just beginning. This is a temporary layover to make some money, catch up with loved ones, and of course do some work on the old girl.

And by exploration, I mean sea bottom exploration. Seems that Chart Sounding Confirmation Exercises have been common this year. (Elsa) Elizabeth is a stoutly constructed vessel with a long full keel – perfectly suited for such endeavors. Here are photos of three such explorations, which were conducted in either sand or soft mud. Chart data seems to be correct in all cases. If sailing pleasantly slows life down to where you can smell the roses, then going aground slows life down that much more, allowing one time to plant, water, prune, and weed the rose garden. It’s a nice way to live, and I’m sure Mom would approve.

Bahamas were cool enough, I guess. We got to the Berry’s and the Abacos… the northern Bahamas. We saw 14 waterspouts in the stream…anchored on the bank overnight…got bit by a fish…went snorkeling…ran aground…ate ice cream…worked on projects…and generally enjoyed a slower pace, the sunshine, clear waters and really friendly people.

We met up with our old pals on Anastasia, and enjoyed a few days together in the Abacos, while prepping for our offshore run back the States. Both Teresa and I took on crew for the trip home to help make the 5 day passage a little easier. Our crew arrived Sunday evening, and we jumped on the tail end of a weather window, leaving at dawn Monday. Winds were great the first two days, out of the SE at 15-20kts. We set our course for the Gulf Stream and enjoyed the sleigh ride, making 9.5 knots in the center of the stream. Soon the wind died with the approach of a weak front, and the Yanmar roared to life for about 28 hours.

It was surprising that throughout the 500 mile passage all 3 boats were able to stay withing VHF range the entire time. We enjoyed many a night watch just chatting on the radio amongst the boats, keeping tabs on location, course, speed, weather, boat traffic, etc. It was the most fun passage I’ve ever made. The 4th day out was calm and we really enjoyed the camaraderie of our 3 boat convoy. We all set our light air sails and ghosted Northeast past Frying Pan Shoals towards Beaufort. I baked cookies and tossed a bag to each boat. Anastasia loaned Daphne a jug of fuel, and they passed the jug between the boats on a tightline. We saw sea turtles and dolphins and doused ourselves with buckets of sea water for relief from the relentless sun.

There was a strong cold front approaching the coast, and we wanted to beat it. Winds were forecasted to be 25-30 with gusts to 40 kts, starting in the late morning. It was also important to time our arrival into Beaufort with a favorable current during daylight. We checked the tides and found high tide was mid morning, giving us plenty of time and light. With only 42 miles to go, we slowed the boats down to 3 knots and sat back to enjoy our last 14 hours or so of this fantastic passage. But at bout 2200, Anastasia radioed, and announced he had spoken with a friend that had local knowledge, who explained that high tide and slack water are at different times! Slack water was actually at 0630! We immediately set full sail and made best possible speed for Beaufort Inlet. The wind was building and the seas began piling up as we arrived at the channel, but we all made it in before the ebb began and dropped our hooks about half an hour before the wind started getting really nasty. It couldn’t have better timed.

We thought, how funny – our stay in Miami has been book-ended by all day downpours! Not so funny however, is just how wrong the wind forecast was.

The forecast was for Easterlies to veer around all night long eventually coming Northwest by 1700 the next day. A plenty doable window for the 40 mile crossing to Bimini. During dinner, the wind shifted to the Northeast. Hmm… that’s weird we thought! Must just be a local squall blowing through. But we went to bed with that wind still blowing from the North, dreaming it would come East as forecasted soon.

We awoke up at 0200 as planned, checked the wind, still North. Woke again at 0300. Wind still North. Up at 0400 for a final check. Wind still North. No Easterlies… instead, this Northerly blew all night long.

It’s still blowing North. Here’s the buoy report for Fowey Rocks at 0800 EDT.

I’m keeping a close eye on the weather these days. Looking for a weather window (treatment) for the hop across the Gulf Stream. So much to do, so little time. But it could be weeks before we see another window treatment like this. I have to be ready, and so the list gets edited, to the just the essential essentials.

The Gulf Stream runs about 3-4 knots through the Straits of Florida, and is the reason finding a decent weather window is so critical. Any northerly component to the wind, and the current against wind kicks up a steep and short wave in the stream. An Easterly wind is decent. It’ll be a close hauled port tack on a South Easterly course to make good a course of East, hopefully fetching Bimini, or Berries.