They say adventure begins where the plan ends. 

So I am sitting in the office of the marina where we are currently docked. We lowered and removed the severely damaged mainsail yesterday afternoon and a sailmaker picked it up. As I am sitting here inside, Dana and Peter are working on making some repairs to the headsail. Dana has a big Sailrite sewing machine on board with all kinds of supplies and is very accomplished with the gadget.

 

 

He said the reason we couldn't fix the mainsail was because it was a large two axis tear and for safety's sake it really needs to be professionally repaired and the rest of the sail carefully examined and any defects addressed before we sail out.  

We will likely be here at this little marina for at least a couple more days.

So much has happened that two days ago seems like last year and I've already forgotten more than I remember. The days start early and are filled with activity. I've volunteered to spend as much time at the helm as I possibly can and pepperDana with endless questions when he sits up there with me. But for the majority of the time over the last two days I’ve been at the helm alone and no one has seemed to give it a second thought.

Two Days Ago - Solomon's Island to Antipoison Creek

The day started early as they do on this boat. I woke up again of my own volition at 7 and was up and ready to go promptly. 

Dana had pulled out the big paper chart and was pondering distances, time, and conditions. The weather service he pays for safe weather and route recommendations was currently recommending that we depart to make our run towards South of Bermuda on Tuesday which would give us what looks like a clear weather window all the way to St Martin. 

It was Sunday morning which meant we had two days time to get down to Norfolk. Dana had suggested that we do an overnight sail into Norfolk so we could make it in one day. 

"If we have the extra time, why push ourselves just to sit in Norfolk?" I asked. There is an issue with the heatpumps. My suspicion is that they are low on freon and need to be charged. They are 10 years old after all and Dana wanted to hopefully address that in Norfolk. "In just a few days, we'll be in warm weather." Peter commented.

"We'll be sailing right by Tangier Island, a place I have wanted to visit for decades now as I've heard it said they still speak an old English dialect there that dates back to the colonial era. The Island is disappearing. 

"When I have a destination in mind I like to get there." Dana said.

"Yea, on motorcycle trips I call that destination fixation. I've made that mistake for most of my life. The best times I've had have been along the way, not at the eventual target. We have the time. We could have a nice easy sail to Tangier Island and get there early enough that we could walk around and see some things."I replied. 

Peter said he had also heard of Tangier Island and would like to see it because he didn't know when the next time he might get the chance. 

Dana agreed and it was decided to go check out Tangier Island. 

We left Solomon's Island. There was a good breeze from the port bow pushing us against the dock. Peter and Dana pulled out more fenders. There was a racing sailboat behind us and what I perceived as not a lot of room ahead of us. In my long since sold power boat, this would not have been a problem, but with this much larger boat with it's significantly greater surface area I was concerned but was up for the challenge. After carefully evaluating all the options, we agreed it would be best to rotate off a rear fender to get the front pointed into the wind and then away from the dock. 

In Morgan Freeman's voice, "He hoped this would go to plan ..."

"But it did not go to plan."

The way the wind grabbed the boat was much more severe than I had imagined and try as I might I couldn't get the thing away from the dock. I got the bow out a bit only to have the wind overpower me. So then we agreed to try to pivot on the bow but I lost confidence that I would not hit the boat behind me. It was ugly but discretion is the better part of valor. 

We tried pivoting off the rear this time with a bit more gusto. It was ugly, and it cost us a fender which popped, but we managed to get away from the dock. 

Experience is directly proportional to mistakes made and equipment ruined. 

(As I look out the window while I write this, I can see Dana working on the AraVilla. It looks like he has the headsail repaired and raised. I do not understand where that man finds all the energy he has.)

However, I felt terrible about the ugly departure for the remainder of the day. Whenever I make an error, there is this crushing weight I feel. "He's going to regret having me here." kept going through my head. I apologized for the error and tried my best to get past it. 

Dana had wanted to run the spinnaker again. I get the impression if he could sail solely with a spinnaker he would. "Run a spinnaker all the way to St. Martin would be awesome."

But the wind was too strong so we raised the main and headsail and pointed the bow towards Tangier Island.

After a while, I was relieved from the helm for a short break so I took a walk around with the hand held GoPro.

There is something addictive to this sailing thing.

I spent the majority of the day at  the helm. The winds picked up a bit and the waves became more rolling. At one point Dana decided the winds were becoming strong enough that it was time to lower the mainsail a bit. He had already pulled in the headsail which can be done from the helm. On this mainsail there are three "reef points", three positions on the sail, where you can lower it down when the winds get to be too heavy. But doing this, on this boat, requires someone to walk out on the deck to physically man handle lines to lower the sail. Peter went out to help while I was at the helm. 

It was impressive watching them walk forward as the boat pitched up and down, life vests on secured to the boat via lanyards so they don't fall overboard. 

We sailed like this for some hours when we saw what looked like a dramatic shipwreck in some very shallow water.

Peter tells me after some googling that it turns out that this vessel had been placed there intentionally and is used by the military for target practice.

The waves picked up a bit. The auto-helm was on and I was just up there watching things, carefully scanning the horizon, and then the chartplotter to see what ships might be coming our way.

We were starting to get closer to Tangier Island so I decided to familiarize myself with the channel and where we would go. There was shallow water all around. Then I noticed a detail I had missed. All the depths of the chartplotter are in meters so I had looked at the channel and saw 4.4 meters. The font size on the chartplotter is wickedly small and even with my readers on I have a hard time reading it. I looked even more closely when I noticed it had "ft" after the 4.4.

Shit. 

The AraVilla draws 4 feet. While at high tide we might have made it but our schedule didn't allow for us to get stuck there. I called Dana up to the helm. He took one look and said, “Let's look for an anchorage further South.”

We hold on to our goals loosely. I had really wanted to see Tangiers, but the risk of getting stuck with that little margin for error was unacceptable. 

On we went. Dana looked at our speed and course and picked what he thought would be a reasonable very protected anchorage. So we adjusted our course and headed for this anchorage which would put us within easy striking distance of Norfolk for the next day. 

As we sailed, container ships would occasionally pass by. I always paid careful attention to the chartplotter when I saw anything big approaching. They can't stop or turn very fast so it's our responsibility to stay well out of their way. 

Dana had timed it perfectly. We were reaching the anchorage just as the sun was setting. 

We lowered the sails and motored into the anchorage. There was a lot of shallow water around us but the main channel had plenty of depth. We were then greeted by the most amazing sunset I have ever seen.

Dana made me an omelette for dinner and then had some calls to make. Peter and I chatted about his experiences so far and thoughts about the upcoming trip. 

"I've been reading about all these places in the trawler groups and magazines for years. Baltimore, Annapolis, Solomon's Island, Tangier Island, and Norfolk. And now here I am getting to see all of them. Very few people get to do what we are doing. Very very few.”

"I'm so glad Dana decided to come down the Chesapeake. It's really worth it to see these places."

"So few people ever get to do anything like this. I know real sailors who have dreamed about doing something like this for a lifetime and here I am doing it and they are following me along online. But a trip like this is not for the feint of heart, but how do you want to die? A home never having done anything or out at sea where at least they'll erect a statue back home of you." 

He comes from a very small town. 

We talked about something I hadn't considered. We were supposed to have a fourth crew member who was a professional diesel mechanic and diver. He would have made an extremely valuable addition to the crew but at the very last moment something prevented him from joining us. I thought it was some work obligation or family emergency. 

I had not considered that possibility that he backed out because he was afraid. "He made some excuse but he bailed at the very last second as we were about the leave the dock because he was afraid. He talked to someone who, of course, told him horror stories." Peter explained, "A trip like this is not for the feint of heart. Now he regrets it."

"That is so not ok. To have someone reserve one of three cabins (the fourth is being used for storage as we transport the boat), provision the boat for you, and rely on you as part of a crew to do watches and help with everything on the boat, and then, at the very last moment, abandon your commitment, is simply not done. That is so not ok." 

I ponder a friend of mine who relied on commitments made by others and made massive life changes because of those commitments. When they bailed, she was left in quite a bad situation.

When I agreed to do this, absent a serious unforeseen emergency, I was committed and understood that I was becoming part of a whole, namely the crew on this boat. 

Dana joined the conversation. "I started feeling skeptical when he started saying 'This is my vacation.' This is not a vacation. We are transporting a boat. This is work. I had the feeling he was going to back out and I gave him plenty of opportunities to well ahead of time and then he backed out at the last moment."

"That is so not ok."

In German, we say "Gesagt. Getan." "Said and done".

We talked for quite a bit about temperament, level headedness under pressure, being able to manage fear, and a host of other topics. I hadn't pondered that my motorcycle adventures would prime me, temper me, to be a good fit for a journey like this one. There is some fear, of course. We're going to be sailing out on Big Blue Water(tm) for probably 8 days. It's not that things could go wrong. Things will most definitely go wrong in some way or another. 

We'll deal with them.

I remember Andy, a friend of mine who is a bartender at my favorite pub, McGinty's, told me, "If I were going on an adventure like this I know of no one I'd rather have around." It was something that hit me when he said it, but I don't really see it that way.

Before this moment, now, I don't think I've ever pondered the idea that I might bring more to the table than I imagined. I don't know what to do with this.

Dana and Peter went to their cabins early as they are want to do. I tried to stay up to work on photos and videos but I was so tired and the signal wasn't good. I did what I could and pondered the day and conversations we've had. 

"This does not suck."

But, man, that sunset. I snapped a final photo from the salon as the sun shed its final rays for that day.

Yesterday - The Parable of the Chinese Farmer

This is going to be a long post. It's three hours later, and I'm still sitting in the marina office typing away. Dana and Peter have left to shop for supplies and do a final provisioning for the boat in case we are actually able to get out soon. I confess I feel bad that I've been sitting here writing while they have been working away. I don't like not participating in the work, and there is lots of it to be done. But Dana has given me a list of chores I will attend to later including figuring out why the boats network doesn't work, draining the diesel filters, repairing a shore power cord, and a few other things. He and Peter have been doing the bigs things. The headsail is repaired and back up and Dana will be replacing the port side water heater preemptively. I had helped him with the starboard side one at the start of the trip. 

This is a work trip. There is so much work to be done. It leaves little time for writing. Chances are once we are out on the Atlantic I won't have any time to write or work. We'll see. But I suppose even these posts are a fair amount of work and will be something hopefully we look back on.

I woke up before the 7am alarm went off of my own volition. It had been ridiculously cold the previous night so I slept in my thermal layer and kept one of these charge bank hand warmers I had brought with me. I have to admit I was amazed, even on its lowest setting once under the covers it raised the temperature to the point where I was pretty comfortable and was still working the next morning. I slept pretty well. 

I have been getting into the swing of things. There is a routine to figure out that is not immediately apparent. What goes where? How do you keep the cabin in some sort of reasonable shape so it does not become a disaster area? What chores can I do? 

The cabin I’m in accommodates a couple but it’s a tight intimate space. With all the gear being transported I don’t have much in the way of storage. Charter guests will get much more space to store things.

I try to keep everything in order so in addition to putting everything away, I make the bed each morning, but I will tell you what, these cabin bunks are not easy! I mentioned it to Dana at one point and he said, "Yea, it's a pain in the ass but there's a trick to it. Maybe I'll share it with you, maybe not."

When I try to make things presentable:

At some point the next day, after I had once again attempted to make my bed a bit better, Dana needed to get some parts from his parts storage area which is reached through the small door at the head of my bed. I heard him struggling to find some cat5 cable for the network. I had learned early not to leave anything on the bed since he often has to climb onto it to get parts.

When I went back downstairs this is what my cabin looked like:

He will not share with me the black magic used to produce this effect. 

We looked at the weather report and they were calling for 16knot winds. Dana thought we might be able to fly the spinnaker. 

 

Back when Brooklyn and her mom Rebecca were staying with me in Maryland, Dana came down a few times. But there were many people around and we didn't get to spend much time one on one. Even on this trip, with a family as large as he has there are always people to talk to and things to attend to but I am getting to know him much better. Dana truly enjoys many things deeply such as the feel of a fall sun on his face, flying a spinnaker, his grandkids, a good meal, and many others. "Come out in the sun!" he said to me clearly wanting to share some of this enjoyment. "You know I'm a vampire." I replied but relented and sat under the scary yellow orb in the big blue room before going back inside. But sunshine is good. 

The other things I have learned about Dana is how he is driven to get things done. From the moment he says go he is constantly in motion moving from one major project requiring much exertion to another seemingly effortlessly. Peter and I helped him remove the mainsail yesterday. That damn thing is /heavy/! It took all the strength I had left, having been behind the wheel and not had anything to eat all day, but I was done and had little left to give. He kept going for another several hours, but I am getting ahead of myself. Back to our story  ... 

Dana wanted to get going so before I had a chance to get a shower or eat. "Since you piloted us in last night would you mind piloting us out?" he asked.

"I'm on it."

Anchor raised we were on our way.

We made our way out of the anchorage. There was good wind and much earlier than I had expected Dana wanted to raise the sails. I initially made the no-go signal because there wasn't much room around us but he pointed out that we were already almost pointed into the wind. I felt bad. I pointed the boat into the wind and he raised the main. We set course to head out to the bay. It was quite windy. We did not go far when the waves were causing the boat to pitch a bit. 

Dana came up to the helm and took the wheel. "Delegating. It's what a captain does, unless it's fun, then I'll pilot."

The wind quickly picked up way past the forecast and the waves became more pronounced. Dana seemed to really be enjoying himself, but with the wind as strong as it was we needed to pull in the headsail, which was promptly taken care of.

I was off the helm for the longest period so far on this trip. It felt weird to me not to really be doing anything so I filmed the waves. The wind had picked up to well over 30knots with gusts a bit higher as far as I could tell. The waves were large enough that the boat would slow up one side and then slide done the other.

This went on for a while. I was up in the helm sitting next to Dana when another gust of wind came and suddenly something wasn't right. Dana hung his head out of the cockpit to look up at the sail. 

"We've blown the mainsail. We need to lower the it. We’re a motorboat now, boys!"

Dana started the engines.

He left Peter the wheel and asked me to join him forward as the boat pitched up and down violently. I put on the auto-inflating life vest, which I had not previously practiced putting on so it took a moment to figure out.

NOTE: Make sure you learn how to put a life vest on before you need to. How the safety lanyard works is also not immediately obvious, but I figured it out in short order with a quick question to Dana, "Is this right?"

We went forward and I latched myself onto the anchor point and held onto the mast. Dana proceeded to lower the sail. "I don't need help. I just wanted you to see this." he said. I appreciated that because up until that point I had not been forward to see how this actually works. We had the sail lowered in short order and I went back to the helm and took the wheel from Peter. Dana came back saying he wasn't sure if we were going to be able to find a place to repair the sail in any kind of reasonable time. "It'll be a challenge." He has new sails waiting for him in St Martin and wondered if they could be shipped in time but that wasn't practical. I mentioned that if we could not find anything in the Norfolk area maybe there was something in Annapolis. Duncan had offered repeatedly, because he is a wonderful human being, that if some emergency arose he could drive down in the truck and help. 

We were still on course for Norfolk bouncing through the waves when he came to the helm and said, "Change of plans." and marked a marina on the chartplotter. "Get us here." 

I have long read about turning a catamaran in high winds when the waves are coming from behind. If the waves are big enough as you turn the boat around and a wave lifts the boat from the side it can tip. These waves are puny so that wasn't a concern but making a mess of the salon was. So I waited and timed the turn in a relative lull without much issue. The course we had to take to get the marina would put the waves to starboard, which would have sucked. So I chose a point that allowed me to hit the waves at an angle. 

We weren't in any danger at any time. These were small waves, the biggest being 6ft, maybe. But I found myself thinking with my beginners mind that here I am an experiential novice. I don't know yet what this feels like. What is a big wave for this boat? How does it feel? This already felt uncomfortable. But I think back to riding roads like Deal's Gap, the Dragon. I've gone on to ride much twister, gnarlier, and treacherous roads than that one, but when I first encountered it it was nearly overwhelming. I see many experienced riders in motorcycling groups ridiculing new riders going on their first "big" ride of 100 miles. For reference, most day rides Duncan and I do are around 300 miles. But we also often remember when 50 miles was a "big" ride. 

I think of Phil who is an incredibly accomplished sailor. What has he seen? Here I am intimidated by small waves but he kindly doesn't bust my chops about it. We all have to begin somewhere. We all have to develop the feel to know what's a problem and what's not. We all have to slowly push our own boundaries even if those boundaries are insignificant when compared to the others. 

But I haven't done this before, so it was a little challenging.

Peter eventually joined me.

"We wanted an adventure. Well, we got one." he said. 

Dana after a while came up to join me. He had found a better marina to go to on the other side of this spit, so we changed course and headed there. 

"Have you ever heard the parable of the chinese farmer?" I asked Dana. He had not heard of it so I recited it for him.

"I have learned to hold onto my goals loosely." I mentioned to him as we bounced along in the waves. "You never know how things are going to turn out." he said, "I've learned from sailing and watching my friend Terry to just focus on the next thing I have to do."

None of us at any time worried about how this might affect the trip or any goals we had. We just all calmly accepted that this was where the plan ended and a little adventure began. We might get delayed for a long time. We might have to spend days in Norfolk or where ever. Worst case we might have to call off the crossing until we can get another window. 

When Bad Things(tm) happen, just focus on the next thing you have to do, or the next answer you need to get.

One of the wisest words anyone has ever said to me were said by Dana's sister, Rebecca, a human being I have endless respect for. I asked her, "How do you do it? When life and death hang in the balance and all around is chaos, how are you able to remain calm and so strong?" 

"Never go to the what if's. As soon as your mind goes there force it not to. Ask what questions you have. Get answers. Then make your next decision. Never go to the what ifs." 

Words to live by. 

I asked Dana about whether he had any reservations about having asked me on this trip. "Absolutely not." 

Then I wondered. "If you hadn't broken down near Norfolk over the summer, would you have ever thought of asking me to join?"

"No, it wouldn't have crossed my mind. If it weren't for a storm and a lost prop we would have headed straight to Nova Scotia and none of this would have happened. 

"I wouldn't have seen Annapolis, now my absolute favorite sailing city, or Baltimore. I wouldn't have met Peter." Dana replied.

If not for multiple misfortunes, I would not be here now.

The sail is badly torn, this is sad. 

"Maybe." or the way Duncan says it, which I prefer "We'll see." 

While we were bouncing in the waves much earlier we noticed we had picked up a visitor. I'm guessing this little bird got tired flying in the wind and thought our boat was a good place to rest. It hung out minding its business not bothering anyone. 

While Dana was doing something, I noticed the little bird just casually walk into the cabin. Dana followed it inside trying to coax it back out gently. He filmed his effort.

Eventually the bird flew out and landed in the back where it bathed itself in the spray from the waves and then hung out at the base of the helm stairs.

We passed another catamaran on the way into the cove where the marina was.

 

We made it into the marina without much issue. I managed to dock the boat without issue. 

The tear is much worse than this photo shows. The tear is vertically down to the foot of the sail and then aft completely to the luff. 

But there is no rest for the wicked. Regardless of the tiring effort of this "Big Day" as Dana put it, the three of us immediately set about taking down and removing the sail. 

The sail is very very heavy and there were many steps in this careful removal that required contorting oneself, reaching far over things, untying knots, and holding the thing up while one tried to remove it. Then removing the battens and folding the thing so it could be transported took even more effort. 

By the time this was done, especially since I had not yet had anything to eat nor had a shower, I was toast. There's a thing that happens to me where the bottom just drops out from under me and I have nothing left to give. No staying power is how I describe it. 

I was toast. But Dana and Peter continued. The endurance, energy, drive to get things done that these two have, especially Dana, is just intimating. In comparison, I'm low energy and slow moving. Seeing Dana and Peter, both of whom are older than I am, makes me realize this lack of energy, this lack of doing The Things(tm), is much worse than I thought. But on this trip I have been orders of magnitude more active than I am in my "home" life and it's getting a bit easier. 

The sailmaker came and picked up the sail. I managed to get something to eat and took a shower and rested for a while. We went to a local place for dinner. Hopefully my COVID vaccination actually works. 

Today, for me was a slow recovery day. It was my intention to spend just a little while writing since I have some chores to do, but this has turned into the epic post. "I don't know how to tell short stories." 

To my shock, the repaired sail just arrived while Dana and Peter were out getting provisions. The sail guy showed me how to use the halyard to help him hoist the repaired sail onto the deck and he gave me several pointers. 

I try to learn from everyone I meet. 

Chances are it'll be a while until I can write a bit post. With the sail here, there is a real chance we'll leave tomorrow, early. But as I have a chance I'll update the Posts tab here with much shorter snippets and photos. 

If you want to find your way back to this Sailing Adventure just bookmark this link to the Posts tab. 

I upload tracks of our travels along with some photos to the Trip Map page and, of course, there's the whole photo dump on the Photos page. 

If you want to be notified by email when I post things, just click Join This Ride at the top of the page and sign up for an account. Then click "Watch" and you'll be added to the "Ride" as one of those at home watching this adventure unfold. I've shown this platform I've been building to both Dana and Peter and they think there's a call for this in the sailing and boating world and that we're on to something.

My hope is at some point this platform will be a place where I can watch the travels of others, especially those traveling by motorcycle. I am seriously pondering standing a site up for sailboat travels. 

To those brave few who have made it down this far, thank you.