Ari9el #44 headed south

[maikelc]

We’ll be leaving on our big adventure in a couple of weeks. Madeline is coming for a month, down the jersey coast and through the Chesapeake. Daniel will join me for the trip down the intracoastal waterway to the jumping off point [to the Bahamas].
Lists of gear to buy and things to do cover the desk. For a while I seemed to be adding items as quickly as I crossed things off, but now the lists are getting smaller. This week it’s very hot and humid again but last week was warm and dry, which doesn’t happen often here, and we were able to spruce up the paint and add some color. With the yellow canopy and bimini top we are sewing, Louise M will be not just shipshape and seaworthy but looking sharp -as befit’s a sweet, feisty old dame- when we cast off lines and head out of Jamaica Bay.

[JimN]

Man, is that exciting! Good voyaging to you! How long do you anticipate the adventure lasting, and will you be sailign abck for northern climes at some point?

I'm sure everyone would love to see some pictures of your venerable boat.

Jim

[maikelc]

Man, is that exciting! Good voyaging to you! How long do you anticipate the adventure lasting, and will you be sailign abck for northern climes at some point?

I'm sure everyone would love to see some pictures of your venerable boat.

Jim

My plan is to go for six months. First thought was to end up in the rio Dulce in may, leave boat there for the summer, and then continue cruising next winter. But what I hear about Guatemala makes me nervous. Don't mean the killing of the family two years ago but rather the invasion of the drug cartels and the resulting insecurity.
What I'm mainly interested in is seeing Cuba before it's spoiled by golf courses, starbucks and macdonalds. I really have no idea what I will do come next may. May head back north. Even wondered about having boat trucked across central america somewhere so I can cruise sea of cortez and get back to the pacific northwest. But with $2000 in the kitty I'll be lucky to get to Georgetown!!!

As to pictures, I'm still working on that. Have a few, none under sail unfortunately, but between my luddism and the inadequacies of windows vista I still have difficulties posting pictures. Am working on it.

[Tony G]

How did I miss this thread?

Surely living vicariously through you, Maikelc for the next 6months or so. Things always have been a little shakey in C.A. but there are good people down there and you should be just fine. Trouble will no doubt show up when you go looking for it. So just let people know why you're really there. The Government would be more suspect to fouling your plans than drug lords and their wanna bes.

P.s. Ditto on Cuba. Just about flew out of Belize to Cuba before I chickened out. Sailing would be much more enjoyable.

[commanderpete]

Best of luck on the journey. Look forward to following your adventure

[Ariel 109]

Me too, on the best of luck. It's wonderful hearing about your journey.

Friends of mine had a good time after getting blown into Cuba by bad weather several years ago. The people were nice and decent. And when they see that you're sailing a proletariat craft like an Ariel you'll be treated alright.

[maikelc]

Walkabout2 oct5

Windy, Wet and Wild in the Chesapeake.
We are progressing slowly down the Chesapeake, finally going south after having to backtrack up the Delaware Bay and through the C&D canal. The trip down the Jersey coast was OK. We did one section inside while Igor passed, and entering Barnegat inlet was nerve wracking, but otherwise the challenge was finding a way through the swells that minimized rolling and pitching yet kept us on course. So we were looking forward to sailing in “protected” waters, and having a choice of anchorages. Hah! So far the Chesapeake has been wetter, windier - and rougher -than anywhere since Sandy Hook the day we left Brooklyn.
The weather changed the day we exited the C&D canal. One day we were swimming, the next watching the clouds roll in and digging out sweaters and rain gear. Twice we’ve had to bail out of what should have been an easy passage and seek shelter up a creek. Actually wasn’t so bad since both were beautiful.
Partly it’s the boat. The Ariel is a delight to sail and plenty seaworthy but she is a “wet” boat. Going into any kind of short steep chop we are constantly being drenched by showers of spray. On the other hand, with the wind and waves from behind we just fly, especially in the 30 knot gusts. I’m very glad I added a second reef to the main and that we have a roller furling jib so I don’t have to go to the bow. I do most of the deck work but Madeline it turns out is steadier at the helm and has pushed for going on in rough weather when I was ready to bail out. She’s also a more creative cook. Incidentally going without a fridge or cooler has worked out just fine


The flood.
When we tied up in the inner harbor in Baltimore the wharf was so high we could barely climb up onto it. By nightfall we were stepping down onto it! There had been so much rain parts of downtown were flooded and it looked like we might float right up onto the dock. Two days later, in the Little Choptank we spent another day holed up in the cabin as the rain poured down. It’s been sunny and dry the last couple of days and the forecast is for more so perhaps we are finally getting an ‘Indian summer‘…well it has been an Indian summer just the one they get in Delhi.

The Kindness of Strangers
Came ten miles up the winding, tree lined Sassafras River to Georgetown, pop. 900 - and I swear almost as many boats on moorings or in big marinas Our book said there was a secluded anchorage beyond the bridge so I blew one long and one short and, lo and behold, the bridge opened. Paddling around between showers Madeline received an invitation to tie up at someones dock. Not only that, we were treated to a feast of freshly harvested crab, local corn and home grown tomatoes.

Waterworld.
We had our second taste of Chesapeake blue crab on Smith island. A dozen, ‘jumbo’ size, each. Took us over an hour to eat them with lots left over for crab chowder. We got them at a funky crab shack on the town dock at Tylertown, one of the island’s three villages that perch precariously on the only patches of dry land in miles of salt marshes and water. Unlike nearby Tangier island which is bigger and gets more tourists, Smith Island is sleepy, run down and, to us, utterly charming. Sadly the islands, and their way of life, are slowly disappearing. Lots of the old houses and crab sheds are abandoned and falling down. Many others are on blocks in pools of salt water, with raised wooden walkways to outbuildings. Ironically, there were also real estate signs for waterfront lots, and people seemed to be mowing their half-submerged salt grass lawns. Earlier we had passed a half-submerged lighthouse, all that remains of a once 900 acre island.

Milly and Tilly
The last week has been sunny and warm enough to enjoy a swim. This also means light westerlies, so to make a 30-mile jump to the next anchorage we have to resort to the motor for much of the time. Amazing little beasts, these Tohatsus. Once cylinder, four stroke, six horsepower, and only 60 pounds. It sounds like an old one-banger motorcycle but it fits in the lazarette so with the cover down, the noise is not too bad. At half throttle we make 4 to 4 ½ knots using about ¼ gallon of gas an hour. Madeline is not as impressed and points out that’s only 16 miles to the gallon but in boat terms that’s very economical. And with the tiller pilot (Tilly) steering, you can go to the bow and nap or go below and make lunch. Since there is very little boat traffic, once out of the crab trap minefield, we can leave Milly and Tilly to get us safely to our destination.

[frank durant]

I look forward to hearing more as you move along. You'll find lots of 'majic moments' along the way...things just seem to happen once you get unplugged from 'busy life' and into cruising mode. Enjoy yourself...post lots.

[maikelc]

Oriental, NC october28

In the Ditch

In Norfolk Madeline left to go back to New York and I have been joined by my son Daniel for the trip down the “Ditch”. The Ditch is the snowbirds name for the Intra Coastal Waterway or ICW, a thousand miles of rivers, creeks and sounds, linked by canals, that follows the coast from Norfolk to the Florida Keys.
This time of year there are lots of boats headed south. We are usually the first off in the morning but we go slower and everyone passes us, even the other sailboats. The latter are bigger, newer and equipped with all the latest gear; we haven’t seen any other boats like ours-small, simple, a little frayed at the edges As a result, instead of traveling in a group and stopping at the same places, we meet new people all the time.
We did 50 miles one day but usually we manage around thirty. Anything more than about 30 miles means getting up in the dark and going till dusk. Our slow progress is also because Lulu is a dirty girl but that’s been taken care of now.
We sail when we can but it’s mostly motoring. The land is low lying, remote, a mix of swamps and forest. It’s quite beautiful. Often it’s straight enough and wide enough that we can let the tiller pilot steer and just watch the scenery go by.
Some of the towns along the route are hospitable free docks, rides to grocery stores etc. At Elisabeth City for example if five new boats show up a group of locals hosts a wine and cheese party. Other places just want our money - $15 in Belhaven to tie up for two hours This did include use of a golf cart --grocery store was 2 miles away It went a little faster than our boat which was probably a good thing since the brakes didn’t work.
Yesterday we had a wild sail. We’d gone up one of the rivers off Pamlico sound to a boatyard recommended by Cap’n Smollet to haul out and clean and repaint the bottom. The place, Hurricane boatyard, turned out to be a delight: a beautiful setting, a downhome, funky yard with friendly helpful people. Coming back out, with a clean bottom and a stiff breeze, we roared along touching six knots at times - and that’s with the jib half rolled up. The Neuse river entrance has the reputation for being a nasty stretch of water. We kept off the shoals but the waves were big and steep.
We’re at another free dock in a sweet little town called Oriental. Live band playing at the marina next door, a good wi fi connection from the coffee shop across the street…and best of all a second hand marine store up the street where I spent all the grocery money. But there’s a farmers market tomorrow next to the dock. Fresh veggies and a clean bottom: who could ask for anything more.
Love to all, Maikel

[ebb]

In spirit lit'lgull is off your port side!
Keep on.

[epiphany]

Maikel - Plan a stop in Georgetown, SC - south of Myrtle Beach, midway to/a day of travel above Charleston. Would love to meet y'all. Can probably wrangle you a great discount if you want to pull a night at the marina here - showers, washing machines, amenities, etc...

PM me here or @sailfar; sailorkurt and gmail.com, if you want to email.

[maikelc]

Would love to meet you too. Presently at Wrightsville beach,should be arriving in Georgetown monday or tuesday at rate we are going.

[maikelc]

Marshes, Mansions and Mega-yachts: A Low Country Lament.

I added up how far we have come in two months. It averages out to less than 20 miles a day! While others hurry south: we are taking our time in keeping with the KISS principle --and a kiss should be slow, n’est-ce pas. Simple, slow and sacred.
There have been lots of places we could easily have stayed longer --the eastern shore of the Chesapeake, Oriental NC, Charleston SC,--to mention just a few. Nor did we go to the Outer Banks. And every creek we pass invites exploration, every marsh beckons. The Atlantic ocean is often only just the other side of a dune.
Unfortunately our side trips seem to end up taking longer than anticipated. At one place we tied up to a wildlife refuge dock just off the ICW for lunch and walked over to the ocean. Had I paid more attention to the chart and less to the scenery I might have noticed that the dock was in the “blue zone”. We were sitting having tea after our walk when I realized we were stuck…and likely for several hours. Indeed it was after dark before we were back afloat. Another time we turned off the ICW, at a place called Parrot Creek [Louise Michel’s colors are blue, yellow and green], anchored in a side creek deep in the marshes and set off in the kayaks through the marsh to a nearby island. The island turned out to have monkeys living on it. Really. Dozens of them.
On the way back we got lost. I had climbed a tree ashore and could see our mast but in the kayaks all we could see was marsh grass. No compass, only the setting sun to guide us. Passed an anxious hour, visions of spending the night in the marsh, no food or drink, in shorts and shirtsleeves, till we finally stumbled upon a channel that led back to where the boat was anchored.
We finally managed to get weather and tides right for an outside hop. We considered going out at Beaufort but the forecast winds and waves were outside our comfort zone. We went out at Cape Fear with a good ebb tide but turned back after an hour of crashing and bashing into a headwind. At the other Beaufort we went out Port Royal inlet and had a fast run almost 50 miles down the coast and an easy re-entry
As some of you know I have traveled far and wide throughout north america but never to the southeast and never down the coast. This section through the Carolinas and Georgia is really beautiful. The ICW winds its way up and down rivers through cypress swamps further north and now miles of golden marshes and islands covered with dense stands of oak, loblolly and palm trees. It is green and lush.
The newly built up sections on the other hand are depressing. One section in particular in south Carolina, where there was one gated community with a golf course after another, had me ranting away to Daniel about the lack of taste or sense of aesthetic of the modern bourgoisie. If you’ve got it flaunt it seems to be the motto. Then we saw one house under construction and I realized they were just stick houses: what I had thought were stone and adobe walls were just a façade.
On the water the KISS principle is also little in evidence. Indeed I have yet to see another boat under 30ft headed south Most are 35ft and up and loaded with all the latest gear recommended in Practical Sailor and Nigel Calder. I wonder if they have the Pardeys on their bookshelf: bet they don’t have Moitessier or Allcard [two of my favorites along with Maurice Griffith and Annie Hall]. On the other hand they are probably more comfortable than we are. Louise Michel has no dodger or cabin heater. Getting out of a warm sleeping bag when it’s 40 degrees out -and that’s in the cabin-is hard. Explains why we aren’t underway at dawn. They wave as they pass, one after another, in shirtsleeves inside their fully enclosed cockpits while we are bundled up in coats and mufflers and wool hats. When there’s a chop it’s worse. We get soaked and it’s a bit too chilly for solar showers in the cockpit at the end of the day.
But we are having a truly wonderful time. Let them all hurry south.

Regards to all, Maikel

PS Check out Daniel’s blog…http://www.stonesouptravels.blogspot.com.
He has pictures.

[ebb]

Enjoying every word of your adventure!!!

[maikelc]

Boot Key Harbor, jan 17


I hadn't planned to come to Marathon, or anywhere in the Florida Keys for that matter. I thought that by now I'd be in Marsh Harbor. Not sure if I lost my nerve, but after four back to back cold fronts, and talking to other SBLD cruisers, I began to have second thoughts about trying to cross to the Abacos in December. It didn't help that the little Tohatsu, which has worked perfectly for two years and which ran day after day, sometimes for ten hours non stop, down the ICW, began to cut out....and of course at the most inopportune moments. I think the motor is fine and the problem is the installation - the poor thing is suffocating on its own exhaust. And the design – if it didn't have such a skinny ass it wouldn't squat so much. But then Alberg didn't design the Ariel as a cruising boat Problem is where else do you put all that stuff?


Everyone says Pearson Ariels are great sea going boats and I'm sure they are. Not sure anyone has actually sailed around the world in one, maybe someone out there knows. All I know is I was not relishing the prospect of fourteen hours of hand steering and being drenched by waves over the bow or over the side which is what seemed likely unless conditions for crossing the Gulf Stream were perfect. And, assuming I/we got across safely, the weather would be much the same, but with fewer all weather anchorages and still being pinned down by cold fronts for half the week. Maybe it's that I am older, or maybe global warming really has altered the climate, but I don't remember cruising in the PNW, even going around Vancouver Island, being this hard.


I thought of going to Cuba instead, getting round to the south west coast, and hopefully more sheltered cruising, but Daniel didn't want to do that. The prospect of going solo, in this boat, was just too daunting. So, Daniel went back to North Carolina and I came on down to the Keys. I spent Christmas and New Year in No Name Harbor... thinking at times that I was in Cuba...then moved on to Key Largo and now Boot Key Harbor.

I miss Daniel. He and I discovered boating together when he was just a kid. I remember us being towed back to port when an early season gale ripped our makeshift blue tarp sail to shreds, sleeping on the beach wrapped in a sail because the wind was too strong to get home. Then, as we became more proficient, and our boats got bigger – 26' instead of 16', and with motors - we began to spend summers cruising together in the San Juan Islands and up and down Georgia Strait.


I'm also enjoying having the boat to myself. For one person as a liveaboard it's plenty big enough. I'm also enjoying being 'at loose ends'. Even though we took our time the trip down the ICW was a slog. I'm quite content to just be here, on a mooring, taking care of chores, visiting with other liveaboards and watching the sun rise and set. My FM radio quit and to get internet means a long paddle to the marina. Not having these easy distractions means more time for introspection.... some of which is good and leads to valuable insights, lessons in humility and acceptance and so on. But mostly it's the same old nonsense that's been rattling around in my head for years. I probably need professional help but psychiatrists are even more expensive than boats....


My partner Madeline will be joining me in a few weeks for two months. By then hopefully the worst of the winter storms should be over. Current plan is to cross to Bimini and then on to the Exumas. Beyond that I'm not making any plans. I still want to go to the western caribbean in april/may [Jamaica, Honduras, Belize] but that depends on finding someone to go with me.

[maikelc]

We are in the Bahamas... finally.
Madeline arrived over a week ago. We were looking at a good weather window a couple of days ago, when our two kayaks-- our only way to get to shore— were stolen. Even worse, Madeline's was brand new; she's only paddled it once. This was a serious setback, not just financially but also in terms of time.
We decided our best bet was to buy an inflatable dinghy and a small electric motor and battery. We found an inexpensive model on sale at a West Marine south of Miami. Had to take a bus, then a train, then another bus. Then carry back the giant box on a tiny hand cart, plus the battery hidden in a plain brown bag in case Miami public transport considered it dangerous.(Back in Mattituck I disguised my propane tank as a bag of laundry on the local bus, so I'm no stranger to illicit transport of hazardous materials.)
From the bus stop in Key Biscayne it's a mile walk to the harbor and by then we were exhausted. A young couple in a van kindly gave us a ride from the park gate.
The motor-- a small electric trolling motor-- came via UPS and one of the park rangers delivered it to the dock.
We spent a day testing our new ride, listening to the weather forecast and studying passageweather.com. It looked like there would be another, short, weather window, but it would entail an overnight passage. Crossing at night has some advantages-- you leave and arrive in daylight, there's usually less wind, the waves are smaller, and there's no hurry. There was a blustery wind leaving Cape Florida but we could fetch our course. The wind slowly eased and we soon had to motorsail. We had to steer a little into the current which cut our speed over the ground to three knots. With a small, slower boat like ours, leaving from further south-- for example, Key Largo-- would have been better.
We could still see the glow of the lights of Miami when we saw the lights of Bimini, neither of which would have been visible in the daylight; we found this reassuring. There was some shipping but less than in the Straits of Juan de Fuca.
Neither of us had slept much on the crossing and the dock we tied up at in north Bimini was hot, noisy and had lots of wake from passing boats. To our consternation, we then discovered there was going to be a band playing at right next door. We had forgotten it was Saturday. Both of us like to dance and it was a reggae band, but we were so beat that we slept right thru it.
We had planned to cross the banks today but the wind was on the nose and blowing strong. The marina we are in tonight on south Bimini is a total contrast-- an artificial harbor surrounded by condominiums-- a gated resort for well-to-do white people.
There's another, stronger cold front coming in a couple of days, so tomorrow we have to hustle across to the Berry Islands. It's 80 miles so we will anchor overnight somewhere on the banks, in ten feet of clear turquoise water out of sight of any land.

[c_amos]

Congratulations!

You will never regret not turning back.

[Tony G]

Is anyone keeping a running total on the number of A/Cs that have made the journey to the Bahamas? I think I'llpost a list on the wall in the boat shop for inspiration/motivation. ;)

[maikelc]

Mike and Madi's Big Banks Bash


If we'd had the energy it might have been smart to keep going when we reached Bimini but we hadn't slept much crossing the Florida Straits and needed to rest. And even though we'd slept through the reggae music at the dock there was still Alice Town to explore. No homecoming parades. And the choir in the Anglican church was a bit old and dry so we ducked out before the sermon and went for a succulent, secular conch and fries at Bob's.
In the afternoon we tried to sail down to Gun & Cat Cays to have a better angle on the forecast southeast winds, but with wind and tide against us, we soon realized we weren't going to make it. Still, it was a lovely sail, in beautiful blue green water and a stiff but warm breeze.
Passageweather.com, which is our main source for weather, predicted an easing of the 15 to 20 knot winds by the next afternoon. This meant that if we left late morning we could get part way across the banks before dark, anchor for the night and continue the next day at a leisurely pace, arriving at Bullocks harbor well before the front.
The main question was, would we have wind-- and waves-- on the nose once we rounded North Rock and headed east for seventy miles. With another, stronger cold front coming in a couple of days we knew we had to go for it even if we did get “beat up.”
As it turned out we got a good slant and it was another glorious, if wet ride. The Ariel loves a good thrash to weather and even reefed down we were doing 5 knots without burying the rail, with our trusty bungee at the helm. As forecast, the wind eased then died altogether and we had to resort to the motor and tiller pilot.
When the sun went down we dropped the hook. It felt strange: there was no land in sight in any direction but everyone we had talked to said “no problem, just anchor anywhere out of the traffic lane.” Within an hour we were underway again. Stopped, the motion was sickening; by the time I had supper made we were both feeling too queasy to eat.
No moon this time, no long-lasting city glow, just pitch black night with a few stars thru the clouds. Not a boat or a buoy or sight of land anywhere, steering by GPS. Sensory deprivation made the stars dance and nonexistent dolphins chatter. Madeline sang to drown out the dolphins and stayed tethered to the cockpit as spray washed over the cabin top and along the side decks.
Fortunately it was dark because when it got light and we could see how big the waves were we felt very glad to be back in sight of land. We had covered 50 miles in ten hours!
So here we are in Bullocks Harbor in the Berry islands. We are at a marina along with several other cruisers sitting out a stalled cold front or whatever this weird weather is. We have found that we can handle 15-20 but 25-30 is no-go for us.
The weekly mail boat came in the day after we arrived, so we've got fresh veggies, some interesting canned goods and Maikel's favorite British digestive biscuits. A thin slice of banana bread at the local bar costs $7, so we were inspired to break out the solar oven to try making our own treats. If it works we'll move on to homemade yeasted bread-- a plus, since the best available in the small groceries is “roman meal” balloon bread.

[Rico]

Beautiful!
Great job...
I find that the little boats can handle the big wind (25-30) nicely - they do not care about getting wet. I'd rather not get a buchetful of water in the face every few seconds though!
I hope the sailing only gets better!