Homecoming

Next morning Inyanga castoff from our raft after goodbyes and motored out of the harbor. They had a little farther to go than we did and wanted to get an earlier start. We finished breakfast and tidied up the boat, then raised the anchor for the last time, and picked our way out of the anchorage. Once in the bay, we pointed the bow south and forged on toward Deale.

We had light breezes on the nose, of course. Prevailing winds this time of year are southerlies here in the bay, and all along the Atlantic coast, but it helped being in protected waters, as the chop was minimal and the motion of the boat easy.

We’re about five miles north of the bay bridge at Annapolis

As we drew closer to the bridge, it grew in height and breadth. Ruth took a several photos of as we approached and passed through.

South of the bridge, we were really in the home stretch. Just 12 miles to go, and everyone of them familiar. The markers for Rockhold Creek hove into sight, and we aimed for the channel.

Travelling up the creek to our home slip, as we have done so many times seemed unreal after our odyssey of approximately 1000 miles, 10 weeks of travel afloat, and countless anchorages.

It’s good to be home! We will savour the conveniences of living on land now that we have spent the summer without them, and we will enjoy the comfort of routine – so starkly different to living life aboard a sailboat.

I don’t think we will undertake so long a trip on the boat again. There are places to go, and things we would love to do on the water, but I think a chartered boat for a week would satisfy those desires. Places like the Caribbean that we would like to sail may be best done through a charter company. We will still have adventures around the Chesapeake, and there are many places here we haven’t explored, but we’ve experienced living aboard for an extended period now, and I think that has satisfied our desire.

We love the cruising condition of the boat now. She’s more capable than ever, and perfectly equipped to enjoy cruising for weeks at a time, or just day-sailing.

Just Get Off The Pier!

After a week of rain I had to get off the pier. There was no wind, but I didn’t care. I got on board, stowed the swash boards – and noted water stains inside where there had been none before (a week of rain will do that), opened the right valves, got out keys, cushions, and boat hook. I started the engine, cast off the lines – all but one, and promptly threw the boat hook into the water. Well, I had placed it on deck, then somehow knocked it off the deck with my foot. My neighbor rescued me and loaned me his boat hook. Took me several minutes of fishing to figure out that the hooky thing on the end was the perfect place to hook my own boat hook. I amaze myself.

Okay, lines cast off, life line gates latched, and off we go.

Motoring down the creek. Marinas to the right. . .

. . . marinas to the left. . .

Out to the open bay. The water is glass. There are many boats wrapping up their weekend. I can still hear their crews sighing with relief because the rain has stopped. There were even a few optimistic sailboats out with their sails up, but they were going no place fast. There was no wind – no wind all day.

Many terns and gulls taking advantage of the glassy water in which bait fish churned on the surface, the birds diving from the air, or sitting at the edge of bait balls of fry, gorging themselves. Motor boaters seemed to take great delight driving right through groups of birds on the water – 30 to 40 strong – making them fly, like I did as a kid in the park dashing through crowds of pigeons. Have to admit, I aimed at a couple of groups of birds too, but sailboats are too slow to set off a really satisfying alarm amongst them..

There were enough clouds to provide dramatic effect for my crumby phone/camera photos (providing I used some fairly heavy editing to come up with something worth looking at). I have been forgetting to take my dslr with me lately, so I have to make do with the phone.

After motoring for 35 minutes, I turned around and headed back to the pier. Nice to be on the water, even if the sails stayed under cover. This coming week promises to be better for sailing.

Inside the breakwater, setting sun shining on white things.

Back to the slip, backing into the slip – landed first time like a pro (what luck!) and my neighbor was still there to witness it – thereby partially redeeming myself for throwing my boat hook into the water.

Dinghy Excursions

Although the holiday busyness has put a temporary hold on exploring Rockhold Creek, I did get out on the water earlier in the month, pushing northward on the creek farther than I’ve ever been. It was a beautiful cloudless day with barely a stir in the air, yet it was enough to ghost along for a little while. After half a mile I had to brail up the sail and row, but it was fun, and good excercise too.

Dinghy rig waiting to set up.

Ready to launch.

To brail up the sail, the mast-ends of the sprit and boom fold in opposite directions: the sprit drops down parallel to the leach, and the boom swings up parallel to the leach. Then the two spars are rolled into the sail until they are rolled up next to the mast. I lash them together with the  sheet. It takes about 2 minutes to stow the sail and unship the rudder and centerboard. But. . . I have to move carefully. I keep as much of my weight towards the center of the boat as possible. It would not be difficult to ship water over the transoms by moving all my weight into the ends.

I screwed down a length of firehose over the edge of pier where the dinghy slides into the water to protect the bottom paint from scrapes and gouges. I’ve used various materials through years in different places where we’ve used the dink – an old piece of carpet, or a scrap of foam – but the fire hose permanently installed in this manner is the best.

Sailing rig stowed, ready for rowing.

I safely transitioned from pier to dinghy (hardest part of the whole operation) and glided out of the slip powered by a light breeze.

Looking back over the transom at the launching area in my slip. My house in the background.

Out into the creek, I was the only vessel under way. We headed north toward the bridge, and passed underneath with no problems! When the mast is only 5′ tall, a bridge is never an obstacle. And under the bridge is where sailing ended, as we passed into a more sheltered part of the creek.

Looking back on the bridge.

Bridge resident. I didn’t see any trolls!

I rowed in a leisurely fashion for another 20 minutes, passing under another bridge and a large power-boat marina – boats that moor here are low enough to pass under the bridge, eliminating all but the smallest sailboats, and most of the larger motor yachts.

I finally reached the edge of an area devoid of houses, and really wanted to explore further into the marshy area beyond, but I had evening commitments and had to turn around. I reluctantly spun around and pulled steadily towards home for a solid 30 minutes. By this time I had stripped off my sweatshirt and soaked through my shirt with the effort.

Unrigged, Sea Minor upended on the pier, I carried the sailing rig back to the house, moving on to the next thing in the evening.

Hard Water on Rockhold Creek

I know Maryland isn’t as cold as Minnesota or North Dakota, so perhaps I know nothing about “deep freeze” in the winter up north, but to this born-and-bred Florida boy, the creek freezing over still seems bizarre. Just the idea of having weather cold enough for long enough to make all outside water freeze is still a wonder to me.

For the last several days we’ve had single-digit overnight temperatures. Today, however, we had a heat wave. The thermometer soared to 37 F, with bright sunshine. Still, it wasn’t warm enough to thaw the creek.

Labor Day Dinghy Tour

It’s a fairly windless day on this Labor Day.  No use trying to sail in light winds, especially with this much power boat traffic: the residual chop from power boats makes sailing on light-air days futile. But it was a great afternoon for rowing around the creek in my dinghy.  I caught a couple of images of things that were interesting to me.

First subject is a new discovery for me on the creek.  I’m pretty familiar with the boats that ply Rockhold Creek, but of course the boat population isn’t static.  Here is a work boat that’s receiving a renewed life if purpose as her owner is significantly replanked her topsides and built a new cabin forward.  Raw lumber at this point, which is necessary as she’s sitting in the slings so the new lumber can swell.  I’m sure she’ll look great with new paint, bootstripe and color scheme. I love seeing the old timbers and new planking next to each other in the same hull.

This is a working boat, so it appears that the planking is lumber yard stock, not specialized “boat lumber.”  It’s mostly clear of knots, probably pine, and most of it seems to be 1x and 2x or so.  The work is good, and the sprung planks on deck make her look shippy.  There is obviously caulking left to do, as I could see daylight through some of the deck and topside planks, but all in good time.  She looks like a hardworking, seaworthy platform.

Second subject is a yacht that’s parked across the creek from us.  I see this ketch all time in her slip, and her owners often have her out and about as well.

Wooden spars, mahogany or teak cabin – lots of maintenance, but what a beauty.  A boat like that would inspire the owner to work hard and maximize her beautiful lines and finish.

Okay.  I didn’t plan well with my camera, and ran out of battery juice before I took all the photos I wanted, so there will have to be another post like this.

 

Final Photos of Boat Yard Session

Just a couple of photos to catch up a bit. . .

This is the corner of engine bed that I shaved off – hard to tell exactly what you’re looking at.

Temporarily mounted rudder bracket. Like the color?

The tiller is back on, so launch must be soon.

Brandt, the yard manager and lift operator. He’s a great guy, and lots of help. His experience was very helpful when I was looking for how-tos.

Bob, another member of the yard crew, and another really nice guy.

Easing out of the travel lift slip.

Yard work done for the spring. See you in December.

My home slip, with our house ( the yellow one) in the background.

Feels good to have the boat back in the water!

You Don’t See That Every Day

Another day sail stolen from late autumn yielded an interesting spectacle.

Something perversely inappropriate about the name of this boat, considering its location

M/V Go Deep . . . didn’t.  This is just to the left of the jetty cut-through entering Rockhold Creek.  How fast was he going to get that far up on the rocks?

Ouch

The entrance through the jetty is off to the right, just beyond the edge of the photo.  There is a red flashing marker on the right side of the channel, as you would expect, and a green flashing marker 300 yards out into the bay.  If you line up the markers – even in the dark, this entrance would be considered well-marked – you are going to make the channel.  I don’t know what time of day this boater hit the rocks, but I’m having a hard time thinking it was in daylight.  I’m also having a hard time thinking the skipper was sober.  Look – his home port is Deale, MD.  That means these are his home waters.  I can’t think of an explanation that doesn’t involve alcohol and boating after dark.  This is an unlikely time for an accident of this sort – likely took place on a Thursday evening?  In late autumn?  Oh well.  It made our day sail interesting, especially as we got to see the salvage crew float him off and deliver Go Deep to the marina across the creek from us for haul out.

Making progress

Afloat again, just off our marina’s piers

USCG attending

Coast Guard crew standing by to assist as needed.

What’s the Big Idea?

Sittin’ on my masthead, dropping osprey droppings, fish guts, scales and bones?

I can think of lots of other places to sit

My slip neighbor came in just as I took this photo, and scared him away.  Thanks Lee!

 

Wednesday Evening Sail

The breeze was blowing nicely with temps in the low 80s.  Who could resist an evening sail?  We cast off the lines at 1630 and motored toward the bay – about .8 nautical miles down the creek to the breakwater.

Marinas lining Rockhold Creek

Once in open water, I raised the sails (after shaking out a reef from the previous sail).  It’s been nearly 10 days since we’ve been on the water, so it was very nice to get the boat under way and moving away from the marina.  You would think that living 75 yards from my boat, I wouldn’t have to go 10 day without sailing.  Most of the time I don’t go that long.  However, I’m only semi-retired.  I work for a business owned by my wife, and there are things to do.  So I prioritize my time so that Ruth gets what’s needed first.  After that I feel free to sail.

Early on, there was a fair amount of traffic – mostly power boats – that zoomed around stirring up the water (but not too badly).  I’m always amazed at the variety of watercraft on the bay, and the choices other people make regarding the kind of boating they want to do.

Go fast… Definitely not my choice.  However, I did own a ski boat when my boys were teenagers. At that age, they really liked that approach to boating.

The big motor yacht has some appeal until you have to buy fuel.  But, going slowly (trawler speeds) isn’t so pricey fuel-wise, and I think I could enjoy that too.

We sailed along moderately for 15 – 20 minutes until the wind died.  It was that time of day when the afternoon breeze shifts to the evening breeze.  Until the shift is complete, there is no reliable wind anywhere.  Our sails looked like this:

And this:

We waited, shifting sails from port to starboard and back.  Finally the evening breeze filled and we moved across Herring Bay at a satisfying pace.  As we drew near the southern end of Herring Bay we began to see sailboats coming out for the Wednesday night race.

Coming out for the race

About 20 boats assembled at the wide edge of Herring Bay, preparing for the starting line maneuvers. Boats laden with crew, larger racing boats being pushed by outboard motors, family cruisers – all sorts of sailboats.

Racing fleet gathering at the edge of Herring Bay

Most of this crew was sitting for the ride out to the race area

All these folks were standing for the ride

Finally, with dark clouds gathering on one edge of our vision, we decided to play it safe and head for port.  We made a course due north, hard on the wind, then tacked SW back toward the southern shore of Herring Bay.  Another tack due north brought us in range to strike sails and motor into the creek up to our marina.  I stowed sails and replaced sail covers while Ruth steered.  By the time we were tied up, I almost had the boat ready to put away.  Closed the seacocks, stowed the cushions below, secured the rolled headsail with a piece of line, changed shoes, replaced the drop boards, and I was stepping onto the pier at 1900.

Daily Sailing

This is the view from our back door

Our house isn’t big.  About 1500 square feet, and built in the 1920s.  Newly renovated by an architect, it is sound, wholesome, well-done, and cozy.  Okay, nothing remarkable about this, really.  But – it’s on the water.  We live on water-front property on Rockhold Creek, which is 8/10s of a mile from the open Chesapeake Bay.  Our boat is moored about 75 yards from our back door.

What this means, is that we can sail every day.  Daily sailing.  Doesn’t have to be a long sail, like before when we lived in northern Virginia and commuted here on weekends.  Now we can go out for an hour. We can go out multiple times during the day and come back for meals, household projects, cooling down, warming up (depending on the season) drying off.

We still can’t believe that we live here!