From the Captain

You know, I think it's getting brighter.  Aunt Kay Hanley

October 12 Solomons, MD to Mill Creek, VA 42 nm.


We're up early and ready to cast off. We have liked our stay in the Calvert Marina. It's an interesting place historically. Once a  naval base, it was the site of training for amphibious troops. Maneuvers to prepare for the D Day invasion occurred here. There are enactments on a regular basis. Now the large site, decommissioned in 1947 and home to the marina, a couple restaurants, and a renown boat repair business (Washburn's Boatyard), is scheduled for development of waterfront housing. Plans have been in place, waiting for the economy to turn around.

We're on our 8th straight day of high NE winds and cloudy, drizzly, or rainy skies. There is an area if low pressure stuck off the eastern shore that continues to control our weather. We're anchored in Mill Creek. It's a winding branch off the mouth of the Great Wicomico River. To paraphrase my late father-in-law, I think, "What's so great about it?"

Actually, this is a very good anchorage. It's very well protected from the winds that are blowing out in the bay, and Luna is lying calmly at anchor.

She deserves it. The passage from Solomons to here was marked by 20 kt winds and higher gusts.

Rough seas on the Chesapeake Bay

Still being pushed along, we set the foresail and ran before the wind, averaging over 6 kts. The wind was accompanied by high waves that pitched us as they came up from behind. At one point they seemed more than 4 feet from crest to trough, maybe as high as 6 feet. In the cockpit, we stayed protected from the spray, but kept our raincoats on against the occasional drizzle. The waves were strongest at the mouth of the Potomac River, where the current from the river mixed with the wind and tidal current of the bay. Phil and Nancy steered their catamaran far toward the eastern shore and thought the waves were calmer there, but they still had to come back across the bay to the anchorage. We steered Luna on a rhum line from middle of the bay to the Smith Point light at the southern end of the Potomac to the Wicomico. On the way, we saw our first pelican.

Three of us had decided to leave (Mighty Fine stayed behind) because it seemed that today was a small window of better weather and it would feel good to make progress to the south. The winds are forecast to abate further to the south.

Sailing all day without benefit of the motor felt great. It is much quieter in the boat, and we're doing what Luna was meant to do. However, another cloudy day means no benefit from the solar panel, and there is still the issue of keeping the batteries up. We keep our electrical needs minimal by using LED lanterns and flashlights in the cabin. Yet the refrigeration is a constant draw on the batteries, and the GPS and other electronic equipment we use while sailing takes energy out of the batteries. The pressure water pump comes on occasionally, and the light at the top of the mast has to be turned on at dusk while at anchor.

Luna's battery capacity was designed with the solar system in mind, and without the sun, we'll have to run the motor while sailing or even at anchor in the morning to recharge the system with the engine's generator. We're feeling a little cooped-up and are looking forward to sitting out on the deck, stretching out a little in sunny, warm, and dry weather.

Emerald Sunset has a happy-hour gathering for the six of us, and Nancy has made nachos. Jimmy taxis us over and back in Blue Jay's dinghy so we don't have to hoist ours up from the foredeck and back. We bring the remnants of a bottle of wine. The weather forecast keeps changing and not for the better. People are thinking if the weather is like this tomorrow, we'll stay put on this quiet creek.

October 14. Mill Creek to Deltaville, VA  30nm

We had a layover day in Mill Creek yesterday. Forecast called for rain off and on and increasing winds in the 20-25 mile range, still from the NE. Waves were predicted at 4-6 feet. Good day to stay in and do some reading. I'm reading Chesapeake by James Michener which Carol loaded onto the Kindle before we left, and she is reading a book she picked up along the way, The Art of Fielding. Every marina has a few shelves of books left by cruisers passing through. You leave your old ones and pick up new ones. It would be interesting to have a card in each book to see where it has travelled.

I did a few chores on Luna: installed a LED light over the kitchen sink. I had purchased this at West Marine in Solomons. And I screwed in a more permanent engine stud for the grounding attachment to the motor. We ran Luna's diesel twice to charge the batteries: two hours in the morning and an hour at night.

Other than the drone of the engine, It was a quiet day on Luna, and we tried not to think about the weather and the rather persistent state of dampness in our world. Dinner was on Emerald Sunset. Nancy made pizzas, and I grilled some chicken to put on the pesto pizza while the commander baked brownies in Luna's oven. Both were a success. As we got back to Luna we caught a glimpse of the moon peeking out through the clouds. I took this as a good omen.

Sure enough, we saw the sun in the morning. Northeast winds persisted, but in the 15 kt range, and seas 2 to 4 feet. We hoisted anchor and departed on the outgoing tide. Again running with jib only, we found waves more like 4-6 feet, especially near the mouth of the Rappahannock River. We rolled and surfed our way down the bay, but didn't get wet. And under blue skies! The sun warmed our bodies and spirits.

I think the secret to navigating in rough conditions is to keep the sail(s) up whenever possible. The motor pushes us through the water, tending to keep the bow down into the waves. The foresail, however, pulls Luna along, lifting her bows and steadying her tendency to roll. She handles the swells just fine, and we are grateful.

Our destination is Deltaville, Virginia, a little way up the Piankatank River in the well-protected and wide Fishing Bay. We anchor near the Fishing Bay Harbor Marina where for $5.00 transients anchored in the bay may use the dinghy dock. A mile or two down the road is a West Marine, grocery and other stores, and a fish market.

Deltaville seems to be a very boat-friendly place. We hadn't walked more than a quarter mile down the road when Elaine from Michigan stopped to give us a lift. She and her husband keep their sloop, Zydeco, here and are about to depart for the intracoastal waterway. She took us to West Marine, and we walked up to the Galley, a restaurant she and a marina staffer suggested for a cup of she-crab soup (great) and a crabcake sandwich (only fair).

We were impressed by the random acts of kindness. As we walked along the road, two others stopped to offer us rides to the grocery store or back to the marina. At the restaurant, I ordered iced tea. "Sweetened or unsweetened?" asked the waitress. "Hot damn!" I thought, "We're in the South."

October 15. Deltaville, VA

This was another layover day, though it didn't start that way. Our plan was to leave early for Hampton Roads, near the start of the intracoastal waterway. Typical of these days, the forecast that didn't seem too bad the night before deteriorated by morning: winds of 15-20 kts and wave heights of 2 to 4 feet, chance of rain. Once out beyond the mouth of the river, we measured winds of 25 knots and waves higher than 4 feet. Nonetheless, we felt we could handle another day of rough sailing. Our friends convinced us otherwise.

Phil and Nancy had pulled into a marina on the north side of Deltaville at the mouth of the Rappahannock. The short passage, motoring north directly into the wind and high waves, was miserable. We steered a little toward the east to take the brunt of the waves on our port bow quarter. Of heavy weather sailing, I have read, "It is better to be in here wishing you were out there than it is to be out there wishing you were in here." We sort of had the worst of both worlds.

Norton's Marina, up a branch of Broad Creek, offered a dock ($1.00 per boat foot per night), showers, and free access to their washer and drier. Phil had an electrical problem checked, and I took the opportunity to ask their mechanic why our house batteries don't seem to be holding a full charge. He checked the generator and pronounced it in good health.

Phil and I set out to test for a current leak, and found an overlooked electrical component we had been leaving on--the remote shut off for the propane system--consumes an amp of electricity an hour. Over the course of the day, this is a significant amount of power. From now on, we will keep that off between times we need to use the stove.

Every time I look, I learn more about the system and seem to get closer to solving the problem. Other components drawing energy from the battery are: refrigerator 5 amps (compressor runs less than half the time); mast light 0.6 amp; 2 cell phones in charger 1 amp; navigation instruments (speed, depth, wind speed and direction) 1 amp; Garmin 0.8 amp; VHF radio 0.6 amp on standby. So far, I've replaced three light fixtures with LED fixtures. They consume 0.125 amp; ordinary bulbs about 0.8 amp. In the afternoon, I purposefully ran the batteries down, then turned on the charger so it would cycle through its three programmed stages designed to charge and restore battery function.

We took a walk to a nearby marina, where power boaters have made their own little worlds--kitchens, living rooms, bars, TV's, ceiling fans--at the back of their covered boat slips. I made crab cakes for dinner with the pound of jumbo lump back fin crab meat we bought on our walk yesterday. My goal for this segment of the trip has been to get to Norfolk and sick of crab cakes on the same day. I think Norfolk will win. We've had some pretty good crab cakes.

Maryland crab cake recipe (latest iteration)

Beat an egg with 1 tbsp of mayo. Add 1 tsp of Old Bay seasoning. Sauté an onion in olive oil and butter until soft and add this when cool. Crush 8 saltines. (We used stone wheat thins and rice crackers tonite because that's what we had on hand.) Mix well and add a pound of crabmeat--back fin or jumbo lump is best. Mix with hands, taking care not to pulverize the crabmeat too badly.

Let sit for 10 minutes. Let hands and shape into patties and coat with Panko breadcrumbs. Let rest for another half hour or so, then sauté lightly, 6 to 8 minutes per side, covering at some point to heat up the middle.

Serve on a bun (or on a plate) with lettuce and tomato and tartar sauce. The commander prefers hers with cocktail sauce.

October 16. Deltaville, VA to Norfolk, VA. Elizabeth River 42.8 miles.

Last night's forecast called for 5-10kt north winds and 1-2 foot seas. For once, NOAA was correct. It was a beautiful day, what they call a weather window, and we grabbed it. We sailed early on, though the wind gradually decreased after noon. We kept the motor running the whole time because we had a destination in mind, and the motor gave us 1-2 kts. more speed than the sails alone.

The light wind behind us presented a perfect opportunity to fly our cruising spinnaker. We've not done this yet. Luna came with a full spinnaker. Before leaving Vermont, I spoke with our local sailmaker, Bill Fastiggi of Vermont Sailing Partners about converting this  to a so-called asymmetric spinnaker that would be much easier for the two of us to handle. Using the old sail cloth, he was able to produce one for less than half the cost of a new sail.

I have to say our first outing with this, today, was an unqualified failure. In retrospect, my mistake was trying to fly the new sail from the windward side of the bow. When I raised it, the halyard twisted around the forestay, and the sail itself wrapped around the forestay instead of ballooning outward and foreword. I had to pull it out of the water and douse it on the foredeck. Luckily, it wasn't windier.

The proper course would have been to raise it from the leeward side, and have the commander steer off wind as it came up. Why not do that? The dinghy occupied the foredeck on the starboard side. We'll try again when the wind is right, but if the wind is light enough to fly the spinnaker, it's light enough to tow the dinghy behind the boat.

No real harm done, other than to the captain's ego. The sailboat ahead seeing our attempt to raise our spinnaker raised his own and sped off. This didn't help the captain's ego.

The good news is that we got our anemometer back. Knowing the wind speed and direction is helpful for maintaining proper sail trim and avoiding dangerous conditions. I have been having an email dialogue with Myles Electronics in Deland, Florida. They sell and repair Brookes and Gatehouse instruments, and I found them on the internet. They sent me directions on testing the masthead sensing unit (tested OK), then in another email an attachment on re-calibrating the control unit. When that didn't help, they suggested a further measure which brought the unit back (after going through the calibration, hold the windspeed button down for at least 10 seconds until the screen goes blank. Voila! I am certainly grateful for their help.

Late in the afternoon, we passed the west end of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel, and officially left the Chesapeake Bay. We passed Hampton Roads, the site of the historic but indecisive battle between the world's first two iron clad warships, the Union Monitor and the Confederate Virginia (renamed from the wooden gunboat, Merrimac, when her sides were armored.

After the week of rough weather on the Chespeake, I wondered how they managed to get the Monitor down to Hampton Roads. It turns out they towed her down from New York City, where she was launched (in Brooklyn) in January, 1862. And they didn't tow her down the Chespeake. An ocean-going tug towed her down the Atlantic and around Cape Charles at the bottom of the Delmarva Peninsula in March, 1862. On the way down, she encountered a storm that sent sea water into her vents and stacks nearly asphyxiating much of her crew.

Union ships were blockading the major Confederate port city of Norfolk, and the Virginia was able to inflict major damage on the wooden warships. When the Monitor arrived, the two warships fired at each other for 4 hours on March 8, 1862, neither able to do significant harm to the other. Eventually, the Union army captured Norfolk, and the Confederates scuttled the Virginia. The Union generals were so impressed by the Monitor's ability to protect blockading warships that they towed her to
North Carolina, where she sank off Cape Hatteras in a storm in December, 1862.

Coming soon to a store near you

Norfolk is the site of a major navy base (boats must remain at least 500 yards from any naval vessels though can come within 100 yards at slow speed). And it still a major world shipping port. You must
look both ahead and behind to make sure no fast-moving tankers are approaching.

Norfolk Shipping Cranes

Large shipping cranes roost on the river banks like so many crouching pterodactyls. I have heard that George Lucas looked at the huge cranes at the Port of Oakland (CA) and used them as models for the giant fighting machines in a later Star Wars movie.









When we left Deltaville this morning, we saw

A relatively calm day as the sun rises

a parade of boats heading south. We were not alone in waiting out the weather, and everyone seems to be leaving at once. When we anchored in small bay south of the Portsmouth Naval Hospital, outside of Norfolk, we found many sailboats already here. I imagine that like us, they are heading south. And I bet the next leg of our journey, the leisurely traverse of the Dismal Swamp into North Carolina, will be a crowded one.