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.

Tiller Pilot is still broken. It was sent in for warranty work once already this summer, but came back dysfunctional. Great customer service – prompt and helpful, but solve the problem they did not. It’s a Simrad TP32. Symptom: Go below for snack, or to check chart, come back on deck to find boat 70º off course.

Running from Nevercane Earl has brought me to Long Island, NY… a wretched hive of scum and villainy, and has put me that much farther (3 additional days) from Maine… The Promised Land.

The combo platter described above has led me to cancel my sail to Maine this year. Once again, I will not be going to Roque, or Jonesport. There is however, grumbling amongst the tribe about a 2 month cruise to Newfoundland next summer… so that might make up for it.

So… anchored in the familiar waters of Stony Brook Harbor, my ancestral fishing grounds, I am spending time adjusting to a new/old life living aboard in the burbs of NYC. Let me just say, that “New York State Of Mind” you’ve probably heard about… it sucks. I’ll grow numb just like the rest of them soon enough, but at least I know what it’s like on the outside.

But on a happier note… I “fixed” my droopy license plate problem on the VW. Zipties for the win.

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…

If this was a car wash, I’d be getting the Basic: bottom paint, compound/wax, zincs, varnish rudder cheeks. Hauling on the railway at Gannon & Benjamin is always a treat… a sandy, listful treat. I’m concerned the boat might just list over at any moment…  jack stands in the sand… endless hours of amusement.

Last year I used Micron Extra paying a hefty price per gallon and I thought it fouled rather quickly. I had some serious barnacle farms down there. This time, I went with West Marine CPP -  one of the least expensive alternatives I could find. The CPP is actually Petit Ultima SSA paint. I bet it will perform as well as (or rather, better than) the Interlux Micron Extra, but for 1/3 the price. Oh, I did raise the waterline 1″ this year, making for about 3.5″ of raised waterline total since I bought her.

Interesting tid bit here about extending life of zincs… very useful for my Max Prop… Use nail polish around screw holes to reduce wear… cool! Extend the life of Max Prop Zincs

I do need a longer haul soon… Cutlass Bearing is a bit sloppy, and I’ve got some blisters at the waterline that need to be ground, dried and epoxied. Sad.

This haulout has been fueled by The Art Cliff Truck.

After my first Dahon sunk to a briney death last fall in Charleston, I forced myself to suffer through a bikeless winter in Miami to help reinforce the error of my dinghy over-loading ways. But being bikeless on the Vineyard this summer was out of the question. My 2007 Dahon MuXl was such a great bike, that I decided to replace it with the same – the 2010 MuXl.  Mostly the same bike, but with an improved main hinge system and without the dyno hub and chain guard. There are so many great rides, bike paths and destinations on the Vineyard; I plan to enjoy them all this summer as I try to shed this nagging belly flap that hangs over my shorts now. I can feel the metabolism slowing…

The new Dahon MuXl in Oak Bluffs and at the infamous Jaws Bridge.

I’m leaving my love for a week to sail aboard my other love, the Lewis R French. Elizabeth’s stuffing box has been leaking an uncomfortable amount, and her auto bilge pump wiring and operation isn’t what it should be. So it is time to tackle the dreaded in-the-water shaft packing renewal procedure.

I imagined a gushing fire hydrant, both electric bilge pumps screaming to stay above water and someone stationed at the manual bilge pump ready to pump into the night to save our sinking girl. Madly rushing to remove the old packing, get the new packing cut, greased and installed, all the while fumbling with tools, dropping them into the ever deepening bilge water, and eventually losing complete control as the engine began to get its feet wet. However, the removal of the packing nut proved a major let down. A small steady stream of sea water fell into the bilge, barely enough to brush ones teeth with.

I used a combination of flax and drip-less moldable packing. I followed the instructions and tips found here, and found the job to take about as long, and to be as easy as changing the oil. One thing I did learn after a few failed attempts of scratching at it, is that the packing removal tool works like a cork screw. You screw it into the old packing, then pull back on the T handle, and the entire strip of packing comes out very easily. The aroma of the old packing reminded me of a vintage merlot from Bourgandy I once drank. I fashioned some simple packing-pushers out of a small bit of PVC pipe I had. It worked well enough. It’s a messy job with the grease, and latex gloves would’ve been a good idea.

Right now there is no drip, and the gland nut is slightly hand tight. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes after a few more hours on the engine underway.

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.

I like to keep a running list of projects taped to my cabin side wall. I like to be able to add to it with ease as soon as something crosses my mind, or breaks, lest I forget. Better yet, I like to immediately cross something off the list as soon as it’s complete. But for those tasks I only get half way through in one session, I like to cross them out, only half way. The list is usually about two pages, sometimes less, often more. There is no hierarchy to the list, no priority or order. No sections or subsections.

I like to stand at the chart table, eat my morning orange and scan the list for a project I might be able to fit in between designing an email blast for a special on wee wee pads or right after I finish uploading a round of new pieces to an art gallery site. It’s a slow process crossing things off the list this way, but I love my list.  I carefully cut the electrical tape with a scissor, I take the time to cut off the spiral bound ruffles on the paper and I try to neatly attach the list to the wall, space the pages evenly and make sure they’re level. I know I’ll be looking at them for a long time, and well groomed lists are more appealing to study. Neat lists also provoke more intense contemplation and thoughtful inner debates about technique, execution and method.

My current list has been hanging for about four weeks now. It’s in good condition for it’s age. It’s been offshore from The Bahamas to North Carolina. It’s seen a few waterspouts and shared many an early morning orange with me. It’s a rewrite of an older list with a few additions, and some recent fresh cross-offs. But some of these items have been on the list for nearly a year. There always seems to be something more urgent that gets rushed onto the list, only to be crossed out a day or two later. Like patients at the sanitarium, some of these list items get forgotten about, even though they are seen every day.

The current list and a few of the recent cross-offs: SSB stand-offs and bowsprit netting.

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.