The east half of the canal, from Lake Oneida to the Hudson River we did in August 1996. It was such an enjoyable (but fast - 130 miles, 22 locks in 3 1/2 days) trip that Joyce and I decided to do the western half with Seneca lake, the tip of Lake Erie, the Canadian Welland canal, Lake Ontario, and the Oswego canal included as well. The boat trip took 16 days and covered about 600 miles and unfolded like this…
DAY 1: 8/2/99 96 degrees and the tow vehicle is exhibiting a/c problems. Oh well, we could live without a/c for the drive up. No trip up interstate 81 is complete without a stop at Grandma's restaurant in Frickville for a delicious lunch. That night, we "camped out" in a convenient Sam's parking lot in Scranton, Pa., before heading into New York the next day.
erie2.jpg (29908 bytes)DAY 2: Canastoto New York, known as" Canal town", has an original segment of the Erie Canal running through downtown, along with any number of curious locals who stopped to admire the shiny MacGregor 26x. The town barber told me he had read all about it and would look me up on the "web". Who says things don't change in a small town? Arriving in Sylvan Beach we had time to rig the boat up in the "canal" mode before heading off to the town beach (complete with small amusement park for kids) for a swim in lake Oneida. I just love swimming in fresh water with no jellyfish! Rigging the boat in " canal" mode involved using a wooden ladder to raise up the lowered mast high enough to use the bimini top under it, which also improved headroom under the mast to 6'. Then it was on to "Eddy's" restaurant, a long time local favorite, for dinner.
DAY 3: After a peaceful nights sleep, we launched, gassed up, and powered across lake Oneida with favorable east winds of less than 10kts, with "otto" the Autohelm sport pilot steering most of the way to Brewerton. The canal is dotted with summer homes in a variety of shapes and price ranges but one in particular caught our eye, sort of a castle with turrets. It looked like a classic case of overbuilding for the neighborhood. We passed lock 23, the first of many, and drifted into Baldwinsville. Because of the availability of water power associated with the canal, many towns had mills, but the one in Baldwinsville is still operating, grinding out flour. We marveled at a large spider's web in a mill window, beautifully coated with white flour (no doubt making life difficult for the spider). 30 miles later we entered the Seneca canal which passes through an undeveloped wildlife sanctuary, very lush and green, to the 50' high twin locks which we shared with a fleet of scouts in canoes. The light rain did not seem to dampen their spirits, and the bimini kept it off me while we motored into Seneca Falls, home of the women's rights movement. The town had more "for sale" signs than marigolds, and looked like history had passed it by. We had a great spaghetti dinner at "Antonia's", although service was slow, we were not in a hurry. Later that night, tied up at the free town bulkhead (with free 110v elec.). Even though a thunderstorm knocked out the power, we remained snug and dry.
DAY 4: A fine breakfast at the "Twins" restaurant, actually owned for many years by twin men. Our bill came out to only $5.31 total . We felt like we were in the fifties. Then it was off for a bicycle tour through town, ending at the Women's rights National historic park, which preserved a portion of the actual building where the historic 1848 meeting took place. Very educational and entertaining. After lunch aboard, we cycled over for a tour of the Elizabeth Cady Staunton home followed by the historical society museum located in the beautifully restored "Partridge" mansion. The wood carving and detail work would be difficult to duplicate today. Sadly, Mrs. Partridge never lived in the house. During construction her husband died, and she sold it upon completion. Back to the boat, we moved down the canal, past the now deserted factory buildings, to the nearby town of Waterloo for a quick cycle tour of town and dinner before collapsing into slumber. What a day!
DAY 5: Waterloo took its name from the famous battle involving Napoleon, which occurred just before they were picking a name, and a drunken soldier suggested " Waterloo". The McLintock house was where the four ladies met who organized the first women's rights meeting. At the head of the canal is beautiful Seneca Lake state park, with a beach, showers and a paved bike path along the lake to Geneva, where, due to the hills, we had our most energetic bike ride yet, about 6 miles. Then back to the boat for lunch afloat, zooming along at flank speed with "otto" commanding for the 35 mile run to Watkins Glen at the far end of the lake. We secured a marina slip with the promise to be gone before noon the next day due to reservations for the Italian (or was it German) festival just starting. Of course the town is named for the famous Watkins Glen Gorge, and we had to pedal to it and hike through it. Thank god for the bus ride back from the top. The intelligent way would have been to ride the bus up, then walk back down, but everybody was doing that and the buses were crowded. It was very scenic, but we found out the nighttime light show had just folded the previous year. We beat the rain into the Franklin St. Grill for dinner, then enjoyed more thunderstorms and showers back on the boat. Later, I checked out the festival while Joyce was content to read (snooze?) aboard.
DAY 6: Breakfast at "Toby's" a short walk from the marina. I take great delight in ferreting out good local (as opposed to "tourist") restaurants and "Tobys" was the place for breakfast in Watkins Glen. We biked two miles to Montoursville, which had two waterfalls and little else. Still a quaint small town in its own right. Then 35 miles back up the lake, nearly mowing down a couple of fishermen when I got too engrossed in the novel I was reading. Shame on you, Otto. I guess I need a radar interfaced with the autopilot. Back at the Seneca canal, we stopped for gas and the marina kindly let us leave the boat while we biked to nearby "Rose Hill", a beautiful ante-bellum mansion overlooking the lake. As you might have noticed, Joyce and I enjoy touring historic homes. Dinner at the "Crow's Nest" on the canal was enlivened by the arrival of a wedding party in full celebration mode. We joined other diners in a toast to the newlyweds, then chugged back to Waterloo for a quiet night on the "free" side of the lock. What I mean is, The canal pass is $15 for two days., so if you get one at 7am when the lock tender arrives, it is good until 10pm the next day. Use of the canal itself is free until you come to a lock. You need a pass to go through, hence the "free" side of the lock is the place to tie off for the night. We did the entire 260 miles on $45. lock fees. There was still time enough for a trip into Waterloo for ice cream, and I found a bicycle abandoned next to a dumpster. I put some air in the tires at a gas station, and rode it all around before giving it to the lock tender to pass along to one of the kids who always seem to hang around the locks, looking for some excitement.
DAY 7: The lock tender enlisted our aid in an attempt to retrieve an object on the bottom of the lock that looked very much like an automatic pistol. I tried to hook it with a long pole with wire hook duct taped to the end, but with no luck. The water was too deep. So we left the mystery gun on the bottom. Back up the Seneca canal to the Erie Canal, turn west and flog on through an endless succession of small featureless towns with ubiquitous "for sale" signs. Just past Fairport we attempted to tie up alongside the canal wall across from a historic tavern, but the unique wave pattern
(apparently due to a narrowing of the canal at this point and the concrete walls), caused a magnification of powerboat wakes the likes of which I have never seen, and we fought mightily to prevent the fenders from bouncing out from between the boat and the sea wall. We got out fast and continued through lock 33, next lock 64 miles. We covered about 80 miles total by 7pm, but it took its toll. We were whipped! The weather was threatening and windy, with an occasional sprinkle. Sleeping was good, and we forgot about the 96-degree weather we had left behind.
erie1.jpg (28466 bytes)DAY 8: Joyce fixed a big breakfast of ham 'n eggs 'n pancakes, washed down with Cap't Jim's Island coffee (a generous portion of Kahlua, a spoon of hot cocoa mix, and steaming hot coffee). We thought with no locks for the next 50 miles that we would make fast progress, but instead entered the area of "lift bridges". The routines the bridge tenders had looked to be choreographed by the Marx Brothers. One operator had to shuttle between two or more bridges, creating a comedy of delays. The extra speed of the MacGregor surprised more than one lock tender. Had lunch in a nice Italian restaurant in Albion, one of several small quaint towns we passed on the way to Lockport, where the big double locks lift you 55' to the top. The lock tender invited us to stay awhile alongside the dock, but cautioned us to tie up well, " 'cause the suction when I open the sluice gates to fill the lock drops the water there about a foot". The Lockport locks were the engineering marvel of their day, and there was an interesting museum located on the well-manicured grounds. A plaque on the ground is where we first read about Birdsill Holly.
Holly was a fascinating, enigmatic man who was a like-minded contemporary of Thomas Edison, Henry Ford, and George Eastman but who, due to differences in personality, promotion, and product has been largely forgotten. Holly developed and constructed the first centralized steam heating plant for multiple buildings, and invented and developed the modern constant-pressure fire hydrant system. Both of these are still in use today in almost all major cities worldwide. These complex systems involved many unique applications of emerging technology. Holly was considered the equal of other famous inventors, and if he had invented popular consumer items like phonographs and cameras and cars instead of focusing on warm homes protected from ravaging fires, (and hadn't pulled a Woody Allen with an orphan he had raised as a daughter), he would be better remembered today. So the next time you see bums resting comfortably on steam grates or get a ticket for parking next to a fire hydrant, you can thank Birdsill Holly.
DAY 9: The drizzly morning was the perfect time to tour the museum, and we followed that with a tour of a unique underground "tunnel" 2900' long and 25' in diameter. Built by, who else, Birdsill Holly to provide water power for the machine shops which built the pumps, pipe, valves, etc. for his various systems, as well as several other manufacturers who tapped into the excess power. We were told by the tour guide that "records show only one man, a foreman, was killed by explosives during construction, but no records were kept on orphans or recent immigrants". Then it was back to the canal for 20 miles of partly rock blasted ditch to Tonawanda, home of the Carousel Museum, for a bike tour of town and a voluminous dinner at Nestors', a 24hr locals place with "meatloaf, green beans, mashed potatoes $4.95 all you can eat ". The newly renovated downtown waterfront area pubs beckoned us with live bands, but the music seemed just right from the cockpit.
DAY 10: Back to Nestors for their "Big Belgian Waffle", then shuffle off to Buffalo, up the Niagara River, through the Black Rock canal, and straight into the large, beautifully maintained municipal marina. We could have stepped the mast in Tonawanda, but as the morning was calm we would have been motoring anyway, so while Joyce took advantage of the hot showers, Cap't Jim rigged the boat for sailing. Lake Erie was at our doorstep, and the hundreds of miles of motoring were at an end. The city of Buffalo awaited, so another bicycle tour was in order. Older cities have fascinating architecture, and we made plans to return to the renovated theater district later that evening. Returning to the boat, we noticed a large number of sailboats racing in the lake , reminding us of Annapolis. Back downtown for a show and dinner, we were surprised by how deserted the town was. No shoppers or office workers. There was a lot to do in Buffalo, and you could easily stay for days if you wished. We were pretty tired from the busy day, and last night's sleep in Tonawanda had been interrupted by freight trains. In many areas the rails follow the canal, and the highways follow the rails. Several seemingly bucolic spots were rudely and frequently invaded by piercing whistles and clattering freight cars, or roaring trucks and "Jake brakes". All part of traveling through a developed area. The Erie Canal gives the impression of tranquility, but all is not always as it seems.
DAY 11: Awakening early we noticed a jouncing in the slip as the wind picked up and the surge from the lake worked its way into the marina. The clanging halyards were like wind chimes. It was time to go sailing! Out on the lake we quickly relearned what 150 miles of fetch means, and our close-hauled course to Port Colburn in Canada took us across the mouth of the Niagara River, with the considerable current sucking us towards the DREADED FALLS! Well, it wasn't that dramatic, but we did have to motorsail a bit to get further out into the lake and set a course that would clear point Abino and the treacherous shoals, the grave of many great lakes ships! The sky was a beautiful blue, the boat balanced nicely, I even went out on the trapeze for a while! Trying to pick out the exact entrance to the Welland canalerie3.jpg (10542 bytes) could have been a bit troublesome, but an obliging lake freighter showed us the spot from about 5 miles away and I homed in on the breakwater. We anchored in the lee and prepared the fenders and dock lines for the canal, then headed for the public docks in Port Colburn. After groceries, a quick customs call, and lunch at "Neptune's", we started the canal transit about 3:30 pm. The 27 miles and 7 locks must be done non-stop, ships get priority and are slow entering and exiting the locks, but again luck was with us and we caught up to a ship for only the last two locks, exiting the canal about 10pm. The locks in the Welland ship canal are at least 10 times bigger than the Erie Canal, and the ships barely fit with just 2-4' in width and 15-20' in length to spare. It was fun to watch. We had a little difficulty finding the Catherine Marina that night as it wasn't clear that there was no entrance from the canal, although the marina was visible, it took a two mile detour onto Lake Ontario and around a point, then back to get into the marina. By this point I could have slept through anything, but the marina was perfectly quiet.
DAY 12: A bit gray in the AM as we headed out on a compass course for Toronto. I was thinking I should have cranked up the GPS just in case. As we powered across Lake Ontario the breeze picked up and soon it was prudent to flood the ballast tank. Eventually it got rough enough that sailing was more comfortable, so up went the reefed main and out came half the genoa. We made good progress under sail, I rigged up some Plexiglas on the port side of the cockpit as a rain shield, tied to the bimini top supports. For awhile I let 'otto' steer while I ducked into the cabin. It's kind of nice to be dry and sailing along while the rain beats down outside. Visibility was fair, but I never saw Toronto's CN tower (1850') until about 3-4 miles out. (on a clear day you could see it from the other side). Arrived at Pier 4 Marina where we procured a slip. They had a little pedestrian bridge which was also a miniature draw bridge which they hand raised for us to pass to our slip. WOW! The ethnic Indian festival was just getting underway next door, with eats and sitar music etc. Since we had homed in on the CN tower and it was nearby out came the bikes and off we rode. At 1850' it is the tallest structure in the world, with a rotating restaurant where we enjoyed an exquisite lunch. $100 was a long ways from Nestor's in Tonawanda, but then so was the view. Back at the boat drowsiness won out over further exploration and we drifted off to the haunting melodies of traditional Indian music.
DAY 13: Woke up to see skyscrapers through the forward windows. Took pedal tour of Toronto and stopped into several churches. Joyce particularly enjoys historic churches and likes to read the descriptions on the stained glass windows. One Episcopal Church had a strong military contingent, with many wall plaques and windows honoring all the brave men who died fighting for God and country. It was unique among all the churches we saw on the trip. High atop a hill overlooking the city stood mighty Casaloma, the fortress home of Sir Henry Pellett. The beautiful castle style home took three years to build at a cost of $3.5 million , in 1911! Unfortunately Henry lost his fortune and had the place sold at tax auction, the resulting humiliation hastening the demise of his wife. Pellett was a larger than life type who, in a grand gesture during wealthier times, paid for all 600 members of his reserve corps to sail to England (with new uniforms) for the coronation of Queen Victoria, and was rewarded with a knighthood for his many years of service. The self-guided audio tour took several hours including formal gardens and an 800' tunnel connecting the house to the carriage house etc. We had toured Henry Ford's home in Dearborn, Michigan on another trip. Ford had a tunnel too, but where Ford included the plumbing and wiring in his tunnel, Sir Henry built twin tunnels so guests would not have to see the "workings". But Ford didn't go broke. It was a faster ride downhill back to the boat, and we quickly departed the marina and chugged over to the outer islands for a quiet anchorage and a "home cooked meal". The new cockpit table addition I had made from the cooler compartment cover worked out very well. The band cranked up at the nearby amusement park and completed the evening's entertainment.
DAY 14: Hauling up an anchor which has been embedded in the heavily weeded bottom is a mess. Fresh water has a lot more weeds than we are used to on the Chesapeake, and they can cause fouling of the prop, rudder, centerboard etc. Back across Lake Ontario we went, under sail mostly, very pleasant this time. Dead reckoning right on target to the Niagara River (it helps everyone else is also going there). Niagara-on-the-Lake Sailing Club was friendly, efficient, and cheap. Downtown NOL (Niagara on the Lake, on the Canadian side of the Niagara River) was ablaze with colorful flowers. The local town fathers outdid any town we had seen to date. We really enjoyed the beauty of the streets and rode around every one. The Buttery restaurant served up a nice lunch, and we stopped into a craft show that benefited the George Bernard Shaw Festival of plays . Unfortunately we were not able to get into any of the four theaters Sunday and they were closed Monday. We made up for it by attending a 16th century feast (fingers only) at King Henry the XIII's (upstairs at the Buttery). Lamb, pork, (whole roast suckling pig complete with apple) chicken, ale and the antics of the king and queen. Stuffed with food and drink we wobbled our way back to bed.erie4.jpg (25178 bytes)
DAY 15: Back into NOL for another big breakfast. It was interesting to see technology in use at the restaurant. A food vendor arrived to take the regular order. The manager handed him a small tape recorder upon which he had recorded the needed items. The vendor entered the items in a laptop computer, and phoned it in with a cell phone link for delivery later that day. One last bike ride down main street, mostly deserted in the early AM, but with the profusion of glorious color abundant, and we were soon underway again for the short trip across the river to Youngstown, N.Y. Back on the bikes for the Ft. Niagara tour. The 1726 fort, originally built by the French , was still standing, with many refurbished original buildings, a museum, and costumed docents in each building. A mortar demonstration attracted a large throng. History comes alive in places like this. Youngstown had a small but active "town" area with several restaurants and we chose an old Irish pub for lunch. We departed at 2PM for? It seems we had no destination, so we sailed pleasantly along and read novels while watching the shoreline slip by, finally motored into Olcott, the town time forgot. A poor, scraggly little place with "For Sale" signs on many commercial buildings and a few locals holding down stools in a couple of seedy bars. The few efforts to spruce up the place were no match for the general dreariness. They had, however, installed brightly painted concrete "sailboats" with colorful sails as road dividers on the main street. Most unique! Across the creek was a large marina the catered to transient fishermen, and was full of ramp launched fishing boats. Happily, further up the narrow creek was a quiet little anchorage off to one side in 3-4' of water, an algae covered paradise with ducks, herons, frogs, and jumping fish. We grilled steaks on the propane grill, drank wine and enjoyed a little Mozart. Surprisingly, there were few insects and just one canoeist paddling serenely by.
DAY 16: The big day, 55 miles to Rochester with west wind 10-20. Balanced wing and wing with little steering effort (for otto). At 4-8kts of speed, the miles flew by. We motorsailed in the light air spots, suffered through one drenching but short thunderstorm and arrived in Rochester harbor just in time to see the Tues. night racers departing the marina (the other yacht club raced Wed. night, and many of the crews raced both nights). The ominous clouds gave them pause, but the race (and our bike ride through pleasant Charlotte Beach) was concluded without storm. Rochester itself is actually 12 miles from the harbor so we decided to visit it later, preferring to relax on the boat before enjoying a shrimp dinner at the convenient marina restaurant.
DAY 17: After a brief reprovisioning excursion, we were under sail by 9AM , 30 miles of favorable winds to Sodus Bay , a large 2x5 mile bay with narrow cut channel entrance. This is a popular destination for both Rochester and Oswego area sailors, with a nice town, several waterfront restaurants, and Islands with secluded anchorages. We would liked to have stayed here and should have. One of the problems with weather forecasts is that they are frequently off by several hours or more, but generally right. The forecast was for winds shifting from NW to NE overnight, meaning a choppy upwind slog for 25 miles to Oswego the next day, so we elected to push on, motorsailing with genoa in 6-12kts and 3-5' following seas, arriving in Oswego in time to see their Wed. night racers getting ready to start. The weedy municipal marina was well protected and a good place to unstep the mast and revert to "canal" mode again. Surprise! The sounds of big band music wafted over the marina, so we hauled our aluminum folding chairs (doesn't everybody carry them? Joyce nicknamed the boat "Kitchen Sink") and small soft side beer filled cooler up the bank to a lovely park overlooking the lake, with a band playing a variety of tunes from yesteryear. We were so full from "lunch" in Sodus bay we just skipped dinner, something we should have done more often, as waistbands began to "snug up". Hot coffee was great back on the boat, as it was chilly after dark.
DAY 18: 6:17 wake up knock from vigilant marina "metermaid", whom we assured we would pay their fees before departing. We took an early morning bike tour of town, too early for anything to be open, so had nice breakfast at the "Town Restaurant", a unique, small 3 level place that made imaginative use of every inch of space, with both a loft and a cave. Toured historic Ft. Ontario, which switched hands 3 times between the French, English and Americans. The downtown Mariners museum was an intricate and interesting place where each room led into the next with a surprising variety of displays, including one on the underground railway (complete with reproduced "hideaway" behind secret door) and stories of the struggles of individual slaves and the people who tried to help them escape. Outside there was ,on a trailer, a rare boat, the "Picnic 17" which was an early small powersailer built in the '70's by General Boat Co., makers of the Rhodes 22. It was ahead of its time, but could probably be marketed successfully today, with water ballast modifications.
The Oswego canal locks went smoothly by, with a stop at "Fulton" which supposedly got its name from the habit of the canaler's singing out "FULL TON, FULL TON 'o COAL" to sell his merchandise to locals in the 1800's. The recommended "Lock" restaurant was only open for dinner, so we settled for pizza and some more canalling. We crossed our outbound track when we rejoined the Erie Canal for one more lock before settling in for the night at lively Brewerton's west tie-up. There was something for everyone, train whistles, interstate 81 noise, boat wakes, teenagers jumping off the train trellis into the canal while screaming, mosquitoes, and rain. Silly us, one half mile further was the east tie-up, with wake protected area, no train track, less highway noise and a waterfront restaurant. We saw it previously but did not remember it. OOPS!
DAY 19: Time to re-cross lake Oneida, but the "prevailing" westerly winds had not been notified, and the Northeast 15-25 built up a nasty chop. It was so rough Ierie5.jpg (16309 bytes) actually considered turning back to the east tie-up, but instead rigged the Plexiglas "windshield" and pounded into it, wearing full foulies for only the second time of the trip. We bailed out at "Cleveland", a small town on the north shore (protected) and squeezed our way into the tiniest harbor I ever saw for a lunch break. When we returned the wind had died some and it was much easier the rest of the way back to Sylvan Lake and the quiet little marina where our trailer and tow vehicle awaited. The transformation back to trailer boat did not take long, and the overcast day was a good time to attend to the huge pile of laundry we had accumulated. I walked around town checking menus, finding a restaurant, "Cinderella's Cafe" which we liked even better than "Eddy's". With 3 visits, Sylvan Beach was starting to feel familiar, and we enjoyed it, but with other trips planned for the future, it is unlikely we will ever return. The drive home was uneventful, even if postponed for a month, but that's another story. The canal trip was fun, educational, fattening, occasionally challenging, and definitely worth doing.
Happy Sailing!
Wednesday, August 25, 1999
Thursday, April 30, 1998
Nassau, Bahamas Delivery Trip - MacGregor 26X - March 1998
"Can you deliver a MacGregor 26 to Nassau?" the caller asked, Sure thing, No Problem.
When do you want it?
How soon can you do it?
How soon can you pay for it?
When the details were settled, the boat finished, plans were soon made for the delivery. The classic mistake in sailing is to put on a schedule a weather dependent activity. The purchaser, having paid for the boat, understandably wanted it ASAP. I wanted my 19 year old son to go along as first mate, and he only had a week of spring vacation from college. So, the boat was finished 3pm Tuesday, loaded with everything I could think we would need to live on board for several days, and son Steve and I left Wednesday morning for Florida. I lamented the fact that there had not been time for sea trials, and was not entirely happy with the purchaser's selection of a Mercury 25 hp outboard, knowing full well that the diminished speed possible compared to the normal 50hp would prolong the trip. A last minute check with the weather was not encouraging. A low was stalled over Florida, with strong easterly winds. Maybe it will shift by the time we are ready to go, I hoped. Maybe bears will fly.
So on we drove. Steve got some miles driving with the tow for good experience. We got a few hours sleep in the boat Wednesday night and arrived in Miami about 2:30pm Thursday. Weather had been sunny and nice all the way down, and it was easy to forget about the predictions. While rigging the boat at Crandon marina on Key Biscayne, I discovered a small oversight on my part. No mainsail! Oh well, with east winds 20-30 mph, there would not be much sailing, anyway. Several marina workers asked our destination, and, after hearing of our plans, shook their heads sympathetically. After last minute provisioning of ice, gas, etc. we headed out for No Name Harbor at the tip of Key Biscayne. The little Mercury ran smoothly but seemed to lack power. The engine had no tachometer, but I sensed that the propeller might have had a bit too much pitch. It takes a certain amount of experimentation to get the right prop, and we hadn't done it for this motor. Arriving at No Name Harbor, the destruction of hurricane Andrew was evident. Most of the trees were gone from the park.
We got a good nights sleep, had breakfast (I knew that would probably be it until Bimini), and departed 6am Friday. As we headed onto the Atlantic and into the waves, it seemed like we could make about 8 mph, which wasn't bad. 47 miles @ 8mph = 6 hours. We can do it! As we went out a couple of miles further offshore, the waves got worse. We had to keep slowing down to prevent pounding of the hull, eventually slowing to 3mph. By 9am we were 10 miles out and ol' Cap't Jim was feelin' a little green about the gills. The first 6-gallon tank ran out of fuel. Our fuel consumption was much worse in these conditions than I had planned. I quickly tried to switch the fuel line to one of the two nine gallon tanks, but to my annoyance the fittings did not match. Only the six-gallon tank would work with the motor, so the fuel would have to be dumped from one tank into the other. A homemade funnel made from a gallon water jug helped, but the mess and gas fumes pushed me over the edge into "mal de mer". (Later I discovered the fittings fit larger mercury models but not the 25 or lower). Recalculating the time, fuel consumption, increased drift from the Gulf Stream at the lower speed, and the fact that the waves would be even bigger in the stream (not to mention the mal de mer) the trip was starting to look like a disaster waiting to happen. The decision was made to head back to Florida and regroup. Even going downwind in the rough seas was not that easy, with continual attention to steering necessary to avoid broaching. Back at Crandon Marina we confirmed the marina workers suspicions that it was "too rough". One said he was surprised we made it as far as we did before turning back. I was not sure if he meant that we were tougher or more foolish than he had thought. We parked the boat in a fenced storage yard, none the worse apparently, took the offending fuel fittings with us and drove off for a delightful three day "road trip" through Ft. Lauderdale, Daytona Beach, Savannah, and Charleston. It was great to spend a week with my son, even though the delivery was a bust.
MacGregor 26x Nassau Delivery Trip Part 2 4/98
Hunched over the computer Mark Talbott, longtime associate, and I reviewed the latest weather information from the Coast Guard's weather buoy off Fowey rocks, just outside Miami, Florida. The van had been packed and ready for days while we double-checked every available weather source. It looked good. The new fuel fittings, propellers, mainsail, etc. had been loaded, so we blasted to Miami in 18.5 hours non-stop.
Conditions were nearly calm, and with the new propeller we could make about 12 mph, not bad for 25hp. We departed as soon as we could, about 1:30pm, heading straight for Bimini. This time it was a different ocean, with relatively calm conditions. This is the "window" sailors speak of, the time between fronts and high pressure areas, where the prevailing east to southeast winds shift to west or calm for a day or so, before a northwest front or east breeze picks back up. It is not desirable to sail directly upwind across the Gulf Stream in any boat, regardless of size, if more favorable conditions can be obtained by waiting a little. Even on the Bahamian banks, most sailors stay put if east winds blow 20mph because the choppy waters make for an unpleasant trip to Chub key. Within a few hours of departure we hoisted the small jib and sheeted it on the centerline to steady the boat a bit as we passed over the ocean swell, and had an uneventful crossing 47 miles to Bimini, arriving just after dark. There was a near full moon out that night which aided our approach. We gazed through the clear water as the wavelets reflected the moonlight off of the white sand bottom as we neared shore. No fuel was available until 8am the next day, so we settled in for a much needed night's rest.
After fueling, we immediately left Bimini, past the concrete ship (which is one of my favorite snorkeling places), and ran into the 10-15 kt east wind, which quickly raised a chop on the banks that slowed us to about 8 mph, with 85 miles to go to Chub key. If we had been able to fuel up, we could have run all night while it was calm, which is the fastest way to do the crossing, arriving in Chub early am. As it was we pushed on steadily and pleasantly but just barely made it to Rum key (about 7 miles from Chub) just before dark. I remembered the nasty reefs in the immediate area from the 1995 trip and wanted to be anchored before dark, definitely. The 15 mph east wind had been predicted, and although a little rough when we got to the tongue of the ocean area, we never had to add the water ballast for additional stability. We anchored in the lee of Rum Key, and set a 2nd anchor off the stern (to hold the bow into the surge to dampen rolling). Motoring into Chub key in the morning, we fueled up and paused briefly in the harbor to admire the starfish visible on the bottom in 6-8' of water. As the boat drifted slowly sideways, the smoothed water was like looking into an aquarium. We would have enjoyed staying an extra day there, but the forecast was for increasing winds and the MacGregor is a small, light, trailerable boat. On the previous trip in '95, I was reminded how we had pushed on into Nassau in the 26X on a day a 37' boat had elected to wait for more comfortable conditions, so usually the crew wears out before the boat, but prudence is generally a good idea.
With the 15-20kt southeast wind (on the nose) we stayed inside the reef and headed east up the coast of Chub and Whale keys to increase our angle on the wind a little. We reefed the main and started across, sailing well balanced, but on a course that would have completely missed the island of New Providence, and at a speed that would have meant a nighttime arrival. We were soon back under power, with the small jib again sheeted amidships, plowing into 4' waves, but faster and on course. As we passed a large sportfisherman headed downwind, the skipper gave us a "hats' off to you" with his cap while we motored our "small" craft relentlessly upwind.
One of the differences between a delivery and a cruise is the delivery is usually more time sensitive. We did not know exactly our destination, but the purchaser had marked an "X" on the chart and described it, so we headed towards the "X", and in due time spotted the 14' high bridge under which we had to pass, about 10 miles west of Nassau. With the protection of the shoreline, dropping the mast went smoothly and we were soon into the basin area. We phoned the purchaser from a neighbor's home, and with the additional smiling crew made it to his dock. Although we had safely delivered the boat, I didn't consider the job done until I had instructed the new owner in the use of the boat, and most particularly in dropping the mast to pass under the fixed bridge. They became quite adept at it in time, and their expertise impressed a couple neighbors enough that they bought small sailing cruisers and copied the mast system of the 26X. Mark enjoyed spending an extra day in Nassau, while I attended to some business back in Miami, and we linked up at West Palm Beach airport for the run back to Maryland.
The tale of the two delivery attempts, one unsuccessful but educational, one successful, serve to illustrate the point that proper preparation and attention to weather are the keys to a safe, fun trip. The ocean is large and our boats and ourselves are small, but that is the grandeur and the challenge of it!
Happy Sailing - Cap't Jim
When do you want it?
How soon can you do it?
How soon can you pay for it?
When the details were settled, the boat finished, plans were soon made for the delivery. The classic mistake in sailing is to put on a schedule a weather dependent activity. The purchaser, having paid for the boat, understandably wanted it ASAP. I wanted my 19 year old son to go along as first mate, and he only had a week of spring vacation from college. So, the boat was finished 3pm Tuesday, loaded with everything I could think we would need to live on board for several days, and son Steve and I left Wednesday morning for Florida. I lamented the fact that there had not been time for sea trials, and was not entirely happy with the purchaser's selection of a Mercury 25 hp outboard, knowing full well that the diminished speed possible compared to the normal 50hp would prolong the trip. A last minute check with the weather was not encouraging. A low was stalled over Florida, with strong easterly winds. Maybe it will shift by the time we are ready to go, I hoped. Maybe bears will fly.
So on we drove. Steve got some miles driving with the tow for good experience. We got a few hours sleep in the boat Wednesday night and arrived in Miami about 2:30pm Thursday. Weather had been sunny and nice all the way down, and it was easy to forget about the predictions. While rigging the boat at Crandon marina on Key Biscayne, I discovered a small oversight on my part. No mainsail! Oh well, with east winds 20-30 mph, there would not be much sailing, anyway. Several marina workers asked our destination, and, after hearing of our plans, shook their heads sympathetically. After last minute provisioning of ice, gas, etc. we headed out for No Name Harbor at the tip of Key Biscayne. The little Mercury ran smoothly but seemed to lack power. The engine had no tachometer, but I sensed that the propeller might have had a bit too much pitch. It takes a certain amount of experimentation to get the right prop, and we hadn't done it for this motor. Arriving at No Name Harbor, the destruction of hurricane Andrew was evident. Most of the trees were gone from the park.
We got a good nights sleep, had breakfast (I knew that would probably be it until Bimini), and departed 6am Friday. As we headed onto the Atlantic and into the waves, it seemed like we could make about 8 mph, which wasn't bad. 47 miles @ 8mph = 6 hours. We can do it! As we went out a couple of miles further offshore, the waves got worse. We had to keep slowing down to prevent pounding of the hull, eventually slowing to 3mph. By 9am we were 10 miles out and ol' Cap't Jim was feelin' a little green about the gills. The first 6-gallon tank ran out of fuel. Our fuel consumption was much worse in these conditions than I had planned. I quickly tried to switch the fuel line to one of the two nine gallon tanks, but to my annoyance the fittings did not match. Only the six-gallon tank would work with the motor, so the fuel would have to be dumped from one tank into the other. A homemade funnel made from a gallon water jug helped, but the mess and gas fumes pushed me over the edge into "mal de mer". (Later I discovered the fittings fit larger mercury models but not the 25 or lower). Recalculating the time, fuel consumption, increased drift from the Gulf Stream at the lower speed, and the fact that the waves would be even bigger in the stream (not to mention the mal de mer) the trip was starting to look like a disaster waiting to happen. The decision was made to head back to Florida and regroup. Even going downwind in the rough seas was not that easy, with continual attention to steering necessary to avoid broaching. Back at Crandon Marina we confirmed the marina workers suspicions that it was "too rough". One said he was surprised we made it as far as we did before turning back. I was not sure if he meant that we were tougher or more foolish than he had thought. We parked the boat in a fenced storage yard, none the worse apparently, took the offending fuel fittings with us and drove off for a delightful three day "road trip" through Ft. Lauderdale, Daytona Beach, Savannah, and Charleston. It was great to spend a week with my son, even though the delivery was a bust.
MacGregor 26x Nassau Delivery Trip Part 2 4/98
Hunched over the computer Mark Talbott, longtime associate, and I reviewed the latest weather information from the Coast Guard's weather buoy off Fowey rocks, just outside Miami, Florida. The van had been packed and ready for days while we double-checked every available weather source. It looked good. The new fuel fittings, propellers, mainsail, etc. had been loaded, so we blasted to Miami in 18.5 hours non-stop.
Conditions were nearly calm, and with the new propeller we could make about 12 mph, not bad for 25hp. We departed as soon as we could, about 1:30pm, heading straight for Bimini. This time it was a different ocean, with relatively calm conditions. This is the "window" sailors speak of, the time between fronts and high pressure areas, where the prevailing east to southeast winds shift to west or calm for a day or so, before a northwest front or east breeze picks back up. It is not desirable to sail directly upwind across the Gulf Stream in any boat, regardless of size, if more favorable conditions can be obtained by waiting a little. Even on the Bahamian banks, most sailors stay put if east winds blow 20mph because the choppy waters make for an unpleasant trip to Chub key. Within a few hours of departure we hoisted the small jib and sheeted it on the centerline to steady the boat a bit as we passed over the ocean swell, and had an uneventful crossing 47 miles to Bimini, arriving just after dark. There was a near full moon out that night which aided our approach. We gazed through the clear water as the wavelets reflected the moonlight off of the white sand bottom as we neared shore. No fuel was available until 8am the next day, so we settled in for a much needed night's rest.
After fueling, we immediately left Bimini, past the concrete ship (which is one of my favorite snorkeling places), and ran into the 10-15 kt east wind, which quickly raised a chop on the banks that slowed us to about 8 mph, with 85 miles to go to Chub key. If we had been able to fuel up, we could have run all night while it was calm, which is the fastest way to do the crossing, arriving in Chub early am. As it was we pushed on steadily and pleasantly but just barely made it to Rum key (about 7 miles from Chub) just before dark. I remembered the nasty reefs in the immediate area from the 1995 trip and wanted to be anchored before dark, definitely. The 15 mph east wind had been predicted, and although a little rough when we got to the tongue of the ocean area, we never had to add the water ballast for additional stability. We anchored in the lee of Rum Key, and set a 2nd anchor off the stern (to hold the bow into the surge to dampen rolling). Motoring into Chub key in the morning, we fueled up and paused briefly in the harbor to admire the starfish visible on the bottom in 6-8' of water. As the boat drifted slowly sideways, the smoothed water was like looking into an aquarium. We would have enjoyed staying an extra day there, but the forecast was for increasing winds and the MacGregor is a small, light, trailerable boat. On the previous trip in '95, I was reminded how we had pushed on into Nassau in the 26X on a day a 37' boat had elected to wait for more comfortable conditions, so usually the crew wears out before the boat, but prudence is generally a good idea.
With the 15-20kt southeast wind (on the nose) we stayed inside the reef and headed east up the coast of Chub and Whale keys to increase our angle on the wind a little. We reefed the main and started across, sailing well balanced, but on a course that would have completely missed the island of New Providence, and at a speed that would have meant a nighttime arrival. We were soon back under power, with the small jib again sheeted amidships, plowing into 4' waves, but faster and on course. As we passed a large sportfisherman headed downwind, the skipper gave us a "hats' off to you" with his cap while we motored our "small" craft relentlessly upwind.
One of the differences between a delivery and a cruise is the delivery is usually more time sensitive. We did not know exactly our destination, but the purchaser had marked an "X" on the chart and described it, so we headed towards the "X", and in due time spotted the 14' high bridge under which we had to pass, about 10 miles west of Nassau. With the protection of the shoreline, dropping the mast went smoothly and we were soon into the basin area. We phoned the purchaser from a neighbor's home, and with the additional smiling crew made it to his dock. Although we had safely delivered the boat, I didn't consider the job done until I had instructed the new owner in the use of the boat, and most particularly in dropping the mast to pass under the fixed bridge. They became quite adept at it in time, and their expertise impressed a couple neighbors enough that they bought small sailing cruisers and copied the mast system of the 26X. Mark enjoyed spending an extra day in Nassau, while I attended to some business back in Miami, and we linked up at West Palm Beach airport for the run back to Maryland.
The tale of the two delivery attempts, one unsuccessful but educational, one successful, serve to illustrate the point that proper preparation and attention to weather are the keys to a safe, fun trip. The ocean is large and our boats and ourselves are small, but that is the grandeur and the challenge of it!
Happy Sailing - Cap't Jim
Friday, August 15, 1997
Long Island Sound Circuit, Ocean City, MD, and Solomons Island - August 1997
When a friend invited us up to sail with them on their MacGregor 65' on Long Island Sound, Joyce and I decided to take the MacGregor 26X along and tour the Sound. The trip up was uneventful, towing with the Chevy Astro minivan, and took about 5 hours. Launching at a private ramp (with prior arrangements), rigging and motoring over to the Knickerbocker Yacht club in Port Washington on Manhassett Bay took another couple hours. After dinner at the club with our friends we walked back to the dock where many of the club's boats were tied up. The MacGregor, from a distance, looked similar to the others, but was the only boat there that had been in Maryland 8 hours earlier (and the only sailboat there capable of 20mph). BoatUS has a trailerable boat "club" that offers a ramp locator service that might prove helpful when planning a trip to unfamiliar waters, although one can usually find a suitable ramp and parking for tow vehicle and trailer by "asking around". In Florida I once parked at an auto body shop that had a large fenced yard. Here we found a parking spot at the boatyard next to the yacht club. The club had some vacant moorings so we used one for the night.
Early the next morning we set out, heading out of Manhasset Bay onto Long Island Sound. It was quite calm so the Honda 50hp purred along, pushing us to the next bay over. Hempstead Harbor was a long, narrow stretch with an interesting channel at the end, which we took all the way up to the old town wharf. A few miles doesn't make much difference at 15mph. Back onto the sound the wind had picked up from the west so it was wing and wing along the coast past Oak Neck and into Oyster Bay. There is an interesting little pond called the sand hole at the tip of Lloyd Neck, so we followed another boat into the tricky, narrow channel and anchored for lunch. It's a popular place for beach combing and swimming. Next on the agenda was a nice sail on a beam reach with increasing winds up Oyster Bay to Cold Spring Harbor. Seeing little of a "town", we beached the boat on a prominent sandbar for a short walk. Powering upwind into Oyster Bay Harbor, we found the town of Oyster Bay to have good restaurants within walking distance, although we were offered a ride by a local yachtsman who was just returning from a daysail. Theodore Roosevelt lived much of his life here and his home is open for tours, but it was too late in the day for that, and our ambitious schedule (and my nature) require an early morning start. The tides vary greatly from harbor to harbor along the sound, depending on the length and shape of the bays, and we were surprised at the 6' change in Oyster harbor.
On the way out in the morning, we spotted a MacGregor 26X on a mooring. We wondered if the owner would ever trailer the boat anywhere. Some people don't bother, but they miss out on one of the best reasons to own the boat in the first place. Joyce enjoyed the pleasant sailing conditions as we continued wing and wing to Huntington Bay. Huntington Harbor was jam-packed with boats. We found a lively restaurant with a band for dinner, and anchored out near the shoreline. Later we had to move to a second anchorage as our boat swung too close to the channel. The next morning we motored over to NorthPort bay and beached the boat for a walk. Sand City Island nearby had a large derelict cement structure that was difficult to figure out. The artifacts of longtime inhabited areas can seem strange. Under sail again, out of Huntington Bay and ever eastward to Port Jefferson. I had been in Port Jefferson before and remembered a quaint town with a great waterfront restaurant.
On the way in we stopped in a little bay where several other boats were anchored, although the chart indicated "spoil area". We anchored and were backing up toward a beach, intending to place a stern anchor when "clunk!" I backed into a rock, which was a foot or so below the surface. I presume this was part of the "spoil". Inspecting the damage (broken prop blade), we decided we better limp into Port Jefferson. We used the furling genoa when we could as the vibration was bad, and mostly sailed in and anchored stern-to on a sandy beach, the better to change the prop. My tools were barely adequate, something to think about, but we found a replacement prop at a West Marine and put it on, despite some rather large waves from boats in the harbor. Carrying a spare prop and proper tools is probably a good idea, particularly if you are in a remote area, although I had never damaged a prop in 30 years.
The next day we popped back into Port Jefferson for breakfast and a nice walk around town, before departing for the almost 30 miles along the somewhat barren south shore to the nearest destination, Mattituck Inlet. It was more wing and wing with pleasant west winds. We enjoyed the stereo and reading, and had lunch aboard. About 1pm the wind picked up and the sky darkened. It looked like a squall was approaching from the west. The sleigh ride was exhilarating, with speeds up to 10kts surfing down the increasing waves. Suddenly a stronger gust blew and I began to think about reefing the sails. I lowered and started the motor to increase directional stability, and put on "foulies". Before I knew it the whisker pole had folded and the genoa was flapping about. Quickly pulling the Genoa sheets amidships, I was then able to partially furl the sail and go forward to remove the damaged pole. Looking aft I saw the visibility "whiting out" behind me and knew I only had seconds to drop the main. With the strong winds, probably 30kts, behind me and no time to steer into the wind, I loosened the main halyard and began to claw the mainsail down.
The blast struck at about 50kts, with blinding sheets of rain, causing the boat to lurch around violently sideways. I literally hung on to the mast for dear life. Joyce had gone below and put in the hatch when the first rain drops had appeared earlier, so could not tell what was going on. I stomped my foot on the cabin top so she would know I was still there. After the most vicious blast, the wind abated somewhat and with great difficulty I was able to complete lashing the main and furling the remainder of the genoa. Back in the cockpit and under power, we settled into the trough between waves and motored smoothly downwind at about 10kts, matching our speed to the waves. This boat is incredible under these conditions, because of its ability to keep up with the waves. It's like motoring with almost no wave action. Mattituck creek was approaching, and we entered the narrow entrance, with two 90degree bends in the channel, and headed upstream to the Mattituck town dock.
The town had a free dock and boat ramp, with an attendant in the free, clean restroom and shower facility. This was most unusual, and most appreciated. The town itself was a short walk and had all facilities, groceries, restaurants etc. and a military museum with tanks and other armor. Mattituck also boasts the distinction of being accessible from the waters of both Great Peconic Bay and Long Island Sound, with two entrance channels, north and south. We planned to visit again from the other side. We spent the night at the Mattituck pier, in tranquil surroundings.
Easing back out onto the Sound on a warm, misty morning, the adrenaline pumping events of the previous day seemed like a dream, or nightmare, with only the bent whisker pole as mute evidence. We motored along in the calm conditions about 20 miles, until able to hoist sail again on the rising breeze and broad reach to Orient Point, about 5 miles further east.
The channel between Orient point and Plum Island has strong currents, so we motor sailed through and ducked behind Plum Island and anchored for lunch. Although the water was chilly, I braved the cold and took a short swim around the boat. We always carry "shorty" wet suits, which serve as buoyancy and insulation, but Joyce deferred this time. From Plum we sailed across to Shelter Island's Coecle's Harbor, through a fast running ebb tidal current, and into a large and perfectly protected harbor. We quickly found a pebbly beach and "beached" the boat for a stroll to a nearby deserted home on a point and fantasized about who lived there, what it would be like, and why was this beautiful place left to ruin? That evening we were rewarded with a beautiful sunset and lovely breeze.
The next day we set off on our planned circumnavigation of Shelter Island. With a nice sailing breeze we headed over to the town of Orient. We tied up at the end of a local yacht club pier. It takes a little "chutzpah" to cruise around, sometimes you don't know exactly where you can tie up, and every place is leery of "cruisers" who overstay their welcome, pollute, and are inconvenient to the locals in other ways, so we try to be discreet and not cause problems. The 26x, because of its relatively small size, shallow draft, and excellent maneuverability, can sneak into and out of places inaccessible to larger, deeper draft boats, without the hassles of anchoring and dinghying.
Orient was a pleasant place, quite historic, with interesting old homes and a nice ice-cream parlor and historical society museum. We had a brisk sail from Orient over to Greenport, where we found a quiet marina way back up the creek that was nearby to everything yet secluded, and with a pool to boot! We had dinner at a local, rustic fish house (the type of place where patrons carve their names in the tables), then walked further and found a really nice looking place. OOPS! Better walk first, eat second! We did not take bicycles on this trip, but they greatly improve your mobility and are worth the trouble, if you plan to stop into many small towns.
Departing under full sail the next morning, We were surprised to see the WWII liberty ship "John W. Brown" at anchor outside Greenport. The ship's home port is Baltimore, Md. As we continued our sail around Shelter Island, we stopped briefly into Noyack, on the opposite shore of Noyack Bay, a small bedroom community with little to recommend it, then bounced over to West harbor, which at least had a not too pebbly beach to walk on. We finally made it to Sag harbor, which is definitely worth a visit, tying up at the town dockage facility. The hot showers and excellent facilities were much appreciated. We spent the whole next day in Sag Harbor. The town has an interesting mix of history, entertainment, restaurants, etc. and we needed a "lay" as in "lay around" day. Sometimes when cruising going nowhere is part of the fun. To avoid a second nights dockage expense, we departed @4 pm and sailed across to Coecles Harbor again, thus completing our circumnavigation of Shelter Island, and were rewarded with another stunning sunset.
We didn't make it back to Mattituck, or visit Great or Little Peconic Bays, or pass through the cut over to the Atlantic Ocean. Those adventures will have to wait until another time. Nor did we sail to Block Island or Newport, both popular cruising destinations, but we had visited them years before, with an earlier model MacGregor 26. We did sail across the sound to Essex, Connecticut, and enjoyed the trip upriver and the great museum (with replica of Henry Hudson's "Half Moon") and historic homes and restaurants. There was even an antique auto parade.
With deteriorating weather forecast and an ominous oily calm in the morning, we blitzkrieged back to Manhassett Bay at flank speed 85 miles in 7 hours with only a quick stop in Milford, Connecticut (home of the world's largest town square) for lunch. The town fathers had recently completed a new and beautifully landscaped municipal marina, with complete facilities.
The wind picked up and the drizzle started just as we entered Manhasset Bay, so we found a vacant yacht club mooring and had dinner aboard. It rained harder but we were snug as bugs and actually stayed inside until 10am the next day, when it was back to the ramp for haul out. We made arrangements to sail with our friends again in the regular Thursday night race, having dinner afterwards at the yacht club. Earlier they had taken us for a tour of some of the nicer areas including a tour of one of the Guggenheim brothers' homes. It's always nice to see how the other half lives, but are they happy with their expensive cars, huge homes, servants and yachts? Damn right!! After spending the night aboard the boat on the trailer (our personal motel six), we left New York and headed down the freeway towards the next half of our trip, a week in Ocean City, Maryland.
The O.C. trip was a " keep Momma happy" kind of trip. My wife, Joyce, is a good sport, and just spent 8 days roaming around Long Island Sound on a comfortable but admittedly not luxurious Mac26X sailboat, so it was time for some LUXURY! We rented a two bedroom, two-bath condo with pool and boat slip, and our son came to stay with us for the week. While we stayed put, the boat got daily use 6 out of 7 days. When we launched it we ran into an acquaintance from D.C. who happened to be on vacation with his family, so we invited them all (6) for a sail. The 9 of us had a ball in windy conditions, even going out on the trapeze (why should Hobie sailors have all the fun?).
My son likes to kneeboard so we got up and went early, before the wind and other boaters were up. We took turns driving the boat. I use skis, which I find easier than the kneeboard. Joyce got to snooze in late, and we returned with a big appetite for breakfast. One day we sailed down to the rt. 50 bridge, and had the unique experience of sailing at exactly the same speed as the tidal current, thus "going nowhere" (what else is new?). We signaled the bridge to open and applied a little power to go through and out the inlet into the ocean. It was a little roly-poly but we hung in there and even had lunch (and kept it too!). All in all we sailed about 10 miles, before returning to the back bay.
On a previous trip to O.C with a MacGregor 19 we sailed down to Chincoteague, out into the ocean, and back to O.C. at night in the moonlight, a 60-mile round trip. Joyce has an elderly Aunt and Uncle in Montego Bay, but they said their sailing days were over, and they now prefer cruise ships.
At weeks end, we loaded up the boat and headed for the Chesapeake Venture owner's Club rendezvous in Solomons Island Md. Another launch, then three days on the Patuxent river in southern Maryland sailing, racing, and testing out the crab cakes at various waterfront restaurants. A great time and a nice group of people.
Finally, 19 days and three adventures later, the MacGregor was wheeled into the yard at A-1 Sailboats for a complete wash, wax, oil and filter change and interior cleanup. No repairs necessary, except to replace the 1' whisker pole with a 1 1/2" pole.
Happy Sailing everyone from Cap't Jim!
Early the next morning we set out, heading out of Manhasset Bay onto Long Island Sound. It was quite calm so the Honda 50hp purred along, pushing us to the next bay over. Hempstead Harbor was a long, narrow stretch with an interesting channel at the end, which we took all the way up to the old town wharf. A few miles doesn't make much difference at 15mph. Back onto the sound the wind had picked up from the west so it was wing and wing along the coast past Oak Neck and into Oyster Bay. There is an interesting little pond called the sand hole at the tip of Lloyd Neck, so we followed another boat into the tricky, narrow channel and anchored for lunch. It's a popular place for beach combing and swimming. Next on the agenda was a nice sail on a beam reach with increasing winds up Oyster Bay to Cold Spring Harbor. Seeing little of a "town", we beached the boat on a prominent sandbar for a short walk. Powering upwind into Oyster Bay Harbor, we found the town of Oyster Bay to have good restaurants within walking distance, although we were offered a ride by a local yachtsman who was just returning from a daysail. Theodore Roosevelt lived much of his life here and his home is open for tours, but it was too late in the day for that, and our ambitious schedule (and my nature) require an early morning start. The tides vary greatly from harbor to harbor along the sound, depending on the length and shape of the bays, and we were surprised at the 6' change in Oyster harbor.
On the way out in the morning, we spotted a MacGregor 26X on a mooring. We wondered if the owner would ever trailer the boat anywhere. Some people don't bother, but they miss out on one of the best reasons to own the boat in the first place. Joyce enjoyed the pleasant sailing conditions as we continued wing and wing to Huntington Bay. Huntington Harbor was jam-packed with boats. We found a lively restaurant with a band for dinner, and anchored out near the shoreline. Later we had to move to a second anchorage as our boat swung too close to the channel. The next morning we motored over to NorthPort bay and beached the boat for a walk. Sand City Island nearby had a large derelict cement structure that was difficult to figure out. The artifacts of longtime inhabited areas can seem strange. Under sail again, out of Huntington Bay and ever eastward to Port Jefferson. I had been in Port Jefferson before and remembered a quaint town with a great waterfront restaurant.
On the way in we stopped in a little bay where several other boats were anchored, although the chart indicated "spoil area". We anchored and were backing up toward a beach, intending to place a stern anchor when "clunk!" I backed into a rock, which was a foot or so below the surface. I presume this was part of the "spoil". Inspecting the damage (broken prop blade), we decided we better limp into Port Jefferson. We used the furling genoa when we could as the vibration was bad, and mostly sailed in and anchored stern-to on a sandy beach, the better to change the prop. My tools were barely adequate, something to think about, but we found a replacement prop at a West Marine and put it on, despite some rather large waves from boats in the harbor. Carrying a spare prop and proper tools is probably a good idea, particularly if you are in a remote area, although I had never damaged a prop in 30 years.
The next day we popped back into Port Jefferson for breakfast and a nice walk around town, before departing for the almost 30 miles along the somewhat barren south shore to the nearest destination, Mattituck Inlet. It was more wing and wing with pleasant west winds. We enjoyed the stereo and reading, and had lunch aboard. About 1pm the wind picked up and the sky darkened. It looked like a squall was approaching from the west. The sleigh ride was exhilarating, with speeds up to 10kts surfing down the increasing waves. Suddenly a stronger gust blew and I began to think about reefing the sails. I lowered and started the motor to increase directional stability, and put on "foulies". Before I knew it the whisker pole had folded and the genoa was flapping about. Quickly pulling the Genoa sheets amidships, I was then able to partially furl the sail and go forward to remove the damaged pole. Looking aft I saw the visibility "whiting out" behind me and knew I only had seconds to drop the main. With the strong winds, probably 30kts, behind me and no time to steer into the wind, I loosened the main halyard and began to claw the mainsail down.
The blast struck at about 50kts, with blinding sheets of rain, causing the boat to lurch around violently sideways. I literally hung on to the mast for dear life. Joyce had gone below and put in the hatch when the first rain drops had appeared earlier, so could not tell what was going on. I stomped my foot on the cabin top so she would know I was still there. After the most vicious blast, the wind abated somewhat and with great difficulty I was able to complete lashing the main and furling the remainder of the genoa. Back in the cockpit and under power, we settled into the trough between waves and motored smoothly downwind at about 10kts, matching our speed to the waves. This boat is incredible under these conditions, because of its ability to keep up with the waves. It's like motoring with almost no wave action. Mattituck creek was approaching, and we entered the narrow entrance, with two 90degree bends in the channel, and headed upstream to the Mattituck town dock.
The town had a free dock and boat ramp, with an attendant in the free, clean restroom and shower facility. This was most unusual, and most appreciated. The town itself was a short walk and had all facilities, groceries, restaurants etc. and a military museum with tanks and other armor. Mattituck also boasts the distinction of being accessible from the waters of both Great Peconic Bay and Long Island Sound, with two entrance channels, north and south. We planned to visit again from the other side. We spent the night at the Mattituck pier, in tranquil surroundings.
Easing back out onto the Sound on a warm, misty morning, the adrenaline pumping events of the previous day seemed like a dream, or nightmare, with only the bent whisker pole as mute evidence. We motored along in the calm conditions about 20 miles, until able to hoist sail again on the rising breeze and broad reach to Orient Point, about 5 miles further east.
The channel between Orient point and Plum Island has strong currents, so we motor sailed through and ducked behind Plum Island and anchored for lunch. Although the water was chilly, I braved the cold and took a short swim around the boat. We always carry "shorty" wet suits, which serve as buoyancy and insulation, but Joyce deferred this time. From Plum we sailed across to Shelter Island's Coecle's Harbor, through a fast running ebb tidal current, and into a large and perfectly protected harbor. We quickly found a pebbly beach and "beached" the boat for a stroll to a nearby deserted home on a point and fantasized about who lived there, what it would be like, and why was this beautiful place left to ruin? That evening we were rewarded with a beautiful sunset and lovely breeze.
The next day we set off on our planned circumnavigation of Shelter Island. With a nice sailing breeze we headed over to the town of Orient. We tied up at the end of a local yacht club pier. It takes a little "chutzpah" to cruise around, sometimes you don't know exactly where you can tie up, and every place is leery of "cruisers" who overstay their welcome, pollute, and are inconvenient to the locals in other ways, so we try to be discreet and not cause problems. The 26x, because of its relatively small size, shallow draft, and excellent maneuverability, can sneak into and out of places inaccessible to larger, deeper draft boats, without the hassles of anchoring and dinghying.
Orient was a pleasant place, quite historic, with interesting old homes and a nice ice-cream parlor and historical society museum. We had a brisk sail from Orient over to Greenport, where we found a quiet marina way back up the creek that was nearby to everything yet secluded, and with a pool to boot! We had dinner at a local, rustic fish house (the type of place where patrons carve their names in the tables), then walked further and found a really nice looking place. OOPS! Better walk first, eat second! We did not take bicycles on this trip, but they greatly improve your mobility and are worth the trouble, if you plan to stop into many small towns.
Departing under full sail the next morning, We were surprised to see the WWII liberty ship "John W. Brown" at anchor outside Greenport. The ship's home port is Baltimore, Md. As we continued our sail around Shelter Island, we stopped briefly into Noyack, on the opposite shore of Noyack Bay, a small bedroom community with little to recommend it, then bounced over to West harbor, which at least had a not too pebbly beach to walk on. We finally made it to Sag harbor, which is definitely worth a visit, tying up at the town dockage facility. The hot showers and excellent facilities were much appreciated. We spent the whole next day in Sag Harbor. The town has an interesting mix of history, entertainment, restaurants, etc. and we needed a "lay" as in "lay around" day. Sometimes when cruising going nowhere is part of the fun. To avoid a second nights dockage expense, we departed @4 pm and sailed across to Coecles Harbor again, thus completing our circumnavigation of Shelter Island, and were rewarded with another stunning sunset.
We didn't make it back to Mattituck, or visit Great or Little Peconic Bays, or pass through the cut over to the Atlantic Ocean. Those adventures will have to wait until another time. Nor did we sail to Block Island or Newport, both popular cruising destinations, but we had visited them years before, with an earlier model MacGregor 26. We did sail across the sound to Essex, Connecticut, and enjoyed the trip upriver and the great museum (with replica of Henry Hudson's "Half Moon") and historic homes and restaurants. There was even an antique auto parade.
With deteriorating weather forecast and an ominous oily calm in the morning, we blitzkrieged back to Manhassett Bay at flank speed 85 miles in 7 hours with only a quick stop in Milford, Connecticut (home of the world's largest town square) for lunch. The town fathers had recently completed a new and beautifully landscaped municipal marina, with complete facilities.
The wind picked up and the drizzle started just as we entered Manhasset Bay, so we found a vacant yacht club mooring and had dinner aboard. It rained harder but we were snug as bugs and actually stayed inside until 10am the next day, when it was back to the ramp for haul out. We made arrangements to sail with our friends again in the regular Thursday night race, having dinner afterwards at the yacht club. Earlier they had taken us for a tour of some of the nicer areas including a tour of one of the Guggenheim brothers' homes. It's always nice to see how the other half lives, but are they happy with their expensive cars, huge homes, servants and yachts? Damn right!! After spending the night aboard the boat on the trailer (our personal motel six), we left New York and headed down the freeway towards the next half of our trip, a week in Ocean City, Maryland.
The O.C. trip was a " keep Momma happy" kind of trip. My wife, Joyce, is a good sport, and just spent 8 days roaming around Long Island Sound on a comfortable but admittedly not luxurious Mac26X sailboat, so it was time for some LUXURY! We rented a two bedroom, two-bath condo with pool and boat slip, and our son came to stay with us for the week. While we stayed put, the boat got daily use 6 out of 7 days. When we launched it we ran into an acquaintance from D.C. who happened to be on vacation with his family, so we invited them all (6) for a sail. The 9 of us had a ball in windy conditions, even going out on the trapeze (why should Hobie sailors have all the fun?).
My son likes to kneeboard so we got up and went early, before the wind and other boaters were up. We took turns driving the boat. I use skis, which I find easier than the kneeboard. Joyce got to snooze in late, and we returned with a big appetite for breakfast. One day we sailed down to the rt. 50 bridge, and had the unique experience of sailing at exactly the same speed as the tidal current, thus "going nowhere" (what else is new?). We signaled the bridge to open and applied a little power to go through and out the inlet into the ocean. It was a little roly-poly but we hung in there and even had lunch (and kept it too!). All in all we sailed about 10 miles, before returning to the back bay.
On a previous trip to O.C with a MacGregor 19 we sailed down to Chincoteague, out into the ocean, and back to O.C. at night in the moonlight, a 60-mile round trip. Joyce has an elderly Aunt and Uncle in Montego Bay, but they said their sailing days were over, and they now prefer cruise ships.
At weeks end, we loaded up the boat and headed for the Chesapeake Venture owner's Club rendezvous in Solomons Island Md. Another launch, then three days on the Patuxent river in southern Maryland sailing, racing, and testing out the crab cakes at various waterfront restaurants. A great time and a nice group of people.
Finally, 19 days and three adventures later, the MacGregor was wheeled into the yard at A-1 Sailboats for a complete wash, wax, oil and filter change and interior cleanup. No repairs necessary, except to replace the 1' whisker pole with a 1 1/2" pole.
Happy Sailing everyone from Cap't Jim!
Friday, August 30, 1996
Erie Canal Trip - August 1996
Low Bridge, Everybody Down-Low Bridge for we're comin' to a town..... This old melody haunted us throughout the 120 miles and 22 locks we did this summer on the "Erie Canal". During last year's trip to Lake Ontario we passed over the Erie canal several times and once stopped in the town of Lockport and gazed down the canal as far as we could see. Often, one trailerable trip leads to another and so we found ourselves driving up Interstate 81 again , stopping at a nice roadside rest stop just inside New York State for some previously prepared barbecued chicken. When the white dots began to blur I pulled off the road in some burg with a level firehouse parking lot and hoped for no fires. Turned out to be the devil's triangle with the interstate and railroads competing . Why I drive 400 miles and won't drive 1 more mile to get away from the highway... anyway the early AM start got us to Lake Oneida ( just east of Syracuse) @ 9.am.
Launching and prepping the boat was a snap because we LEFT THE MAST HOME!
That's right! No Mast! Strictly powerboatin'. To celebrate we blasted into Lake Oneida and spent the time we normally would have spent rigging the mast water-skiing and knee boarding. The four of us, Joyce, Daughter Janet ( recently graduated from James Madison College and more recently unemployed) son Steven (17) had a great start on the annual family boat trip with a nice swim in the cool water, before gassing up and heading for our first lock.
As most of you know, the Erie Canal was completed in 1825 and heavily used by commercial traffic right from the start. It was enormously successful and spawned a frenzy of largely ill conceived canals throughout the East Coast. Rebuilt and enlarged several times, the most recent effort was completed in 1925 and follows the path of the Mohawk River. The dams and hydroelectric plants are built alongside the canal locks and serve to control flooding in the area. The major reason the canal lost popularity is winter. It freezes and is closed for five months. The locks varied from 6' to 44' in depth.
So much for the history lesson.
At the first lock we were surprised by how fast we dropped, about 5' per minute. Then the Zebra mussels started squirting water and we realized the whole lock wall was covered with the tiny mollusks. We needed big fenders, so I brought the ones I used on the 65' in the Panama canal. The locks had lines dangling along the walls. Holding onto the lines caused slimy fingers so we learned to loop our docklines around the heavy lock line and they "self-tended" down very well. The locks went very smoothly, the lock tenders called ahead to alert the next lock and they were usually ready with very little waiting. There was no hurry, however, and we enjoyed the waits, talking with the lock tenders and various locals and tourists attracted to the locks. We met with an envious eye or two as we glided along. Cruising permits are $15/2 days, and there are many anchorage's, marinas, towns etc. to stop at.
Later while cruising along I was astounded to see a couple of small planes in a little creek off the canal. We investigated and found two pontoon planes mounted on lifts. Suddenly another plane turned into the creek. We hadn't heard them land! Trapped! The pilot was forced to shut off his engine and we watched as the breeze blew him gently into the weeds across the creek. He was none too happy . We tried to salvage the situation by tossing him a line and pulling the plane over to the dock, where his passenger disembarked. We pointed him back towards the canal and off he flew!
The scenery along the canal was pleasant if somewhat unvaried, and the locks and dams were interesting. Gassing up again, we saw a group of people starring at something which turned out to be a Bull Snake swallowing a large fish. ( After 40 miles of canal it seemed like a big deal!) Rounding a bend later on, we came upon a group of canoeists paddling furiously in a race. The town of Little Falls was celebrating " Canal Days" with a parade, bands and other events. We tied up to the town dock and joined the festivities.
Up at 6 and down to the next lock at 7, we passed sheer rock cliffs that gave the area a mountainous feel. The town of St. Johnsville had a neat restaurant made from an old drugstore that still had much of the 18th century charm. The smaller towns along the canal were quite charming but water access to the larger cities like Utica and Schenectedy was difficult due to the extreme commercial use of the waterfront Miles and locks later we stopped at a canalside park, with old segments of the original canal with dual east and west locks to speed up passage. The locks looked tiny, just 20 by 40'.
Thanks to a tip from a lock tender, we stopped at the Glen Sanders Mansion (1658) in Scotia. Once a beautiful old home, it had been used as a restaurant for many years. Legend had it that nicks in the banister came from Mohawk Indian raiders chasing Mrs. Sanders up the stairs. We had the best meal of the trip, a truly bountiful ( and expensive) feast. We spent the night tied to their small, decorative dock extending from the landscaped garden area, a beautiful spot .
Back to the next lock at 7am again, we entered a wider area of the Mohawk and with about 8 miles to the next lock, Steve suggested knee boarding. The flat calm water was warm and perfect for skimming and wave jumping! I only felt guilty once for leaving the mast behind, during a windy spell the previous day with 6.5 mile stretch downwind. It was probably the only time we could have sailed, but the hassle of living with the mast across the boat for days just didn't seem worth it. Suddenly it was 6,5,4,3,2 locks in quick succession, a drop of 150' in less than a mile and we were at Watertown, the eastern terminus of the canal. As we cleared the last lock, the rain intensified to a downpour and it was a soggy foursome that took refuge at the town "Greasy Spoon", where the grease was as thick as the cigarette smoke. Breakfast was tasty, however, with the exception of the homefries, which were deadly.
Proceeding onto the Hudson river we passed through lock #1 and on to Troy, which had an inviting looking town dock, but at $10.00/hr not THAT inviting. We tied along the sea wall under the deck of a restaurant (try THAT with a mast!) and swung up for a stroll around town. Talk about culture shock! We just finished 3 bucolic days and walked right into an anti-abortion march, and union strikers on the next block. Troy did have a recently completed waterfront park, however, and merited more time than we gave it. Pushing on down the river past Albany ( we had no choice but to pass as they had no docking anywhere) to Castleton on the Hudson and the Castleton Boat Club, our last stop. The friendly people were quite helpful and we made arrangements to rent a car to pick up the van back at Lake Oneida. The swap took about half the next day and we got back in time for a last knee boarding session before loading up and driving nonstop home.
The five days went too quickly, and there is still all the Lake Champlain canal all the way to Montreal, Canada, or West from Lake Oneida to Lake Erie, then north on the wellyn canal to Lake Ontario and East to Oswego then south back to lake Oneida ( ~400 mi.). Canal cruising is restful and easy, with little navigation required. We found charts difficult to obtain locally, and were lucky enough to have a set loaned to us by a good Samaritan at the marina we launched at. Most libraries have books on the Erie Canal, and I would recommend reading one before doing it, to give you the historic background and increase your appreciation of the monumental task the canal represented. 10 times longer than the Panama canal, the Erie was completed in less than one third the time, and had the longest aqueducts ever used (miles of the canal were above the land and valleys, with the boats and towpath floating along up to 100' feet off the ground) It was an unusual and fun trip, but the next trip I'm Taking my MAST!
Happy Sailing from Cap't Jim and Family
Launching and prepping the boat was a snap because we LEFT THE MAST HOME!
That's right! No Mast! Strictly powerboatin'. To celebrate we blasted into Lake Oneida and spent the time we normally would have spent rigging the mast water-skiing and knee boarding. The four of us, Joyce, Daughter Janet ( recently graduated from James Madison College and more recently unemployed) son Steven (17) had a great start on the annual family boat trip with a nice swim in the cool water, before gassing up and heading for our first lock.
As most of you know, the Erie Canal was completed in 1825 and heavily used by commercial traffic right from the start. It was enormously successful and spawned a frenzy of largely ill conceived canals throughout the East Coast. Rebuilt and enlarged several times, the most recent effort was completed in 1925 and follows the path of the Mohawk River. The dams and hydroelectric plants are built alongside the canal locks and serve to control flooding in the area. The major reason the canal lost popularity is winter. It freezes and is closed for five months. The locks varied from 6' to 44' in depth.
So much for the history lesson.
At the first lock we were surprised by how fast we dropped, about 5' per minute. Then the Zebra mussels started squirting water and we realized the whole lock wall was covered with the tiny mollusks. We needed big fenders, so I brought the ones I used on the 65' in the Panama canal. The locks had lines dangling along the walls. Holding onto the lines caused slimy fingers so we learned to loop our docklines around the heavy lock line and they "self-tended" down very well. The locks went very smoothly, the lock tenders called ahead to alert the next lock and they were usually ready with very little waiting. There was no hurry, however, and we enjoyed the waits, talking with the lock tenders and various locals and tourists attracted to the locks. We met with an envious eye or two as we glided along. Cruising permits are $15/2 days, and there are many anchorage's, marinas, towns etc. to stop at.
Later while cruising along I was astounded to see a couple of small planes in a little creek off the canal. We investigated and found two pontoon planes mounted on lifts. Suddenly another plane turned into the creek. We hadn't heard them land! Trapped! The pilot was forced to shut off his engine and we watched as the breeze blew him gently into the weeds across the creek. He was none too happy . We tried to salvage the situation by tossing him a line and pulling the plane over to the dock, where his passenger disembarked. We pointed him back towards the canal and off he flew!
Up at 6 and down to the next lock at 7, we passed sheer rock cliffs that gave the area a mountainous feel. The town of St. Johnsville had a neat restaurant made from an old drugstore that still had much of the 18th century charm. The smaller towns along the canal were quite charming but water access to the larger cities like Utica and Schenectedy was difficult due to the extreme commercial use of the waterfront Miles and locks later we stopped at a canalside park, with old segments of the original canal with dual east and west locks to speed up passage. The locks looked tiny, just 20 by 40'.
Thanks to a tip from a lock tender, we stopped at the Glen Sanders Mansion (1658) in Scotia. Once a beautiful old home, it had been used as a restaurant for many years. Legend had it that nicks in the banister came from Mohawk Indian raiders chasing Mrs. Sanders up the stairs. We had the best meal of the trip, a truly bountiful ( and expensive) feast. We spent the night tied to their small, decorative dock extending from the landscaped garden area, a beautiful spot .
Back to the next lock at 7am again, we entered a wider area of the Mohawk and with about 8 miles to the next lock, Steve suggested knee boarding. The flat calm water was warm and perfect for skimming and wave jumping! I only felt guilty once for leaving the mast behind, during a windy spell the previous day with 6.5 mile stretch downwind. It was probably the only time we could have sailed, but the hassle of living with the mast across the boat for days just didn't seem worth it. Suddenly it was 6,5,4,3,2 locks in quick succession, a drop of 150' in less than a mile and we were at Watertown, the eastern terminus of the canal. As we cleared the last lock, the rain intensified to a downpour and it was a soggy foursome that took refuge at the town "Greasy Spoon", where the grease was as thick as the cigarette smoke. Breakfast was tasty, however, with the exception of the homefries, which were deadly.
Proceeding onto the Hudson river we passed through lock #1 and on to Troy, which had an inviting looking town dock, but at $10.00/hr not THAT inviting. We tied along the sea wall under the deck of a restaurant (try THAT with a mast!) and swung up for a stroll around town. Talk about culture shock! We just finished 3 bucolic days and walked right into an anti-abortion march, and union strikers on the next block. Troy did have a recently completed waterfront park, however, and merited more time than we gave it. Pushing on down the river past Albany ( we had no choice but to pass as they had no docking anywhere) to Castleton on the Hudson and the Castleton Boat Club, our last stop. The friendly people were quite helpful and we made arrangements to rent a car to pick up the van back at Lake Oneida. The swap took about half the next day and we got back in time for a last knee boarding session before loading up and driving nonstop home.
The five days went too quickly, and there is still all the Lake Champlain canal all the way to Montreal, Canada, or West from Lake Oneida to Lake Erie, then north on the wellyn canal to Lake Ontario and East to Oswego then south back to lake Oneida ( ~400 mi.). Canal cruising is restful and easy, with little navigation required. We found charts difficult to obtain locally, and were lucky enough to have a set loaned to us by a good Samaritan at the marina we launched at. Most libraries have books on the Erie Canal, and I would recommend reading one before doing it, to give you the historic background and increase your appreciation of the monumental task the canal represented. 10 times longer than the Panama canal, the Erie was completed in less than one third the time, and had the longest aqueducts ever used (miles of the canal were above the land and valleys, with the boats and towpath floating along up to 100' feet off the ground) It was an unusual and fun trip, but the next trip I'm Taking my MAST!
Happy Sailing from Cap't Jim and Family
Wednesday, December 20, 1995
Bahamas Adventure Part 2 - MacGregor 26X
Any successful trip begins with the planning. The plans for this trip began with the arrival of M-26X hull #9. Right from the start I knew I wanted to duplicate last winter's M-65 trip to the Bahamas. I thought it would be interesting to compare the two trips, if possible, in terms of effort required, expense, entertainment value, sailing pleasure, or whatever. So I set out to equip the 26X specifically for the trip, adding options to duplicate or improve on what was on the 65.
A partial list of improvements would include: depth finder, knot meter, vhf radio, am-fm stereo w/inside and outside speakers, 12v fan, compass, extra interior lights w/ red & white bulbs (for night vision), additional shelves, bins, racks, etc., Bimini top, swim ladder, 50 hp motor w/ power tilt, pressure water system with 15 gallon tank and both inside and outside showers, mainsail luff slides, roller furling jib, racing spinnaker w/pole, trapeze w/harness (what?), custom pedestal guard w/ table, boom vang, 1 man mast raiser system, GPS, EPIRB, shotgun and about 800 lbs. of personal gear, an inflatable dinghy w/ 2hp outboard. Almost all of these items are now available as options on a new MacGregor 26x.
After all the effort to prepare for the trip, the actual drive to West Palm Beach went smoothly and with rigging, launching, and last minute provisioning readily accomplished we (my longtime friend and sailing companion Mark Svenson and me) were at last ready to depart.
Day One - Depart WPB Lake Worth inlet approx. 0930 course 105, speed 13-15 kts. Making good time in favorable conditions. Fuel consumption 6 gph, noon GPS fix 16 miles to go. Unfortunately, We are out of gas and the wind is on the nose, 5-10 kts. Now making 3-4 kts, sure wish I had brought 2 more 6 gal. tanks, but then we would have missed a pleasant if somewhat tedious sail to West End, arriving 6pm. After putting out the fire in the alcohol stove fuel tank cover, (remove cover before lighting), we fixed a killer dinner of steak, potatoes, onions and cheese noodles. Mark and I had planned to diet and lose a few pounds on this trip, (starting tomorrow).
As the anchorage was a little rolly, we deployed the "flopper stoppers", a device that looked like two stacks of witch's hats and hang over the side into the water. They worked somewhat like that, but better when we suspended one from the boom and the other from the spinnaker pole, as far out as we could swing them. All this fiddling was a pain, and we never bothered to use them again. It was much easier to simply anchor in shallow protected water, or even beach the boat if we wished.
Day 2 - (12/3/95) Motored into nearby West End marina for customs clearance. It felt a little strange to be back just 11 months after the 65' trip. Mark enjoyed the tour of the defunct Jack Tar Village resort, with its beautiful but deserted beach. I felt a bit like a tour guide. After clearing customs we attempted to sail to Xanadu but quickly were reminded we were not in the 65. The 20 kt S.E.wind slowed our vmg to 2 kts under reefed main and partially furled jib, turning the 20 miles into a potential all day ordeal. A quick about-face put us on a comfortable broad reach back to West End, where we tackled the protected but shallow northern coast of Grand Bahama Island. With about a 4' tide, the shallow areas get very tricky at low tide, and we found ourselves scraping the bottom with the prop several times. A spare prop would have been a good idea. We made it to the middle of nowhere and anchored, (Crissy-swash, an area of mangrove islands with no beaches). Enjoyed a bottle of white wine and spaghetti dinner w/ salad. (Tip - cook up all the hamburger at once; it will keep for days and you can add it to almost anything).
Day 3 -
We sailed off our anchor in the early A.M., enjoying our coffee in the cockpit while Crissy- swash became a memory. Seems we got some bad advice andski.jpg (26251 bytes) went 10 miles past the canal yesterday. No matter. The wind petered out so we stopped and swam/ snorkeled in the clear greenish water. It was perfect conditions for water-skiing, so we took turns until Marks two hundred plus pounds broke the tow rope. It did appear long overdue for replacement. We sailed wing and wing for awhile, then hoisted the spinnaker for a nice 10-mile run, with no water ballast. Just be careful! We sailed right up to the canal entrance. The Grand Lucayan Canal was an interesting and scenic boondoggle that cost somebody millions. The hundreds of inland and canal front lots were never developed, and a huge abandoned hotel stood in mute testimony to the folly of man. There was one bridge where we had to lower the mast a bit to get through, no problem, mon!
Exiting the canal, we motored over to Peterson Island (part of the Bahamas National Park) for some excellent shallow coral snorkeling. Lots of fish! Had a great sail 2 hours to Port Lucaya, where the friendly folks at the Port Lucayan Marina offered us a free night's dockage. It was a brand new marina with beautiful showers and heads, (greatly appreciated after several days with primitive facilities). The free water taxi ran every 30-min. across to the quaint tourist area of Port Lucaya, with 21 restaurants and a casino. A Bahamian fish dinner w/ complimentary rum punch sure hit the spot after a busy day. The sounds of the bandstand faded as we nestled into our bunks.
Day 4 - Decided to rent a car and do the usual tourist stuff. Did 157 miles of not much. Read about three neat sounding restaurants. Two were closed and we couldn't find the other one. Visited two Bahamas Nat'l Park sites, both a 3 on a scale of ten. Wallace Groves Park (named after the founder of Freeport) was a beautifully landscaped area of 11 acres, well worth the visit. Had an unusual dinner of Southern ham hocks at " Fat Man's Nephew " restaurant in Port Lucaya. Foolishly gambled away $1.50 at the International Bazaar. Ended up watching a movie at "Cap't Kenny's, the local " meet market ", while Mark endlessly and fruitlessly chased women.
Day 5 - Lots of telephone calls to make further plans. Time consuming. Checked into shipping the boat back from Nassau, which would give us more flexibility. Bureaucratic BS and $800- $1700 est. Checked out of Port Lucaya Marina and into Lucayan Village Marina, across the harbor. Much nicer, with a beautiful pool w/ hot tub, and direct access to the beach and "mall" area. After the hassle of driving yesterday I was ready for some beach time! After a mediocre dinner at the "Caribe Club", we set sail for the Berry Islands (about 9pm) with a following breeze and full moon. Slow and lumpy, making 3-4 knots, saving gas, but not sleep.
Day 6 - Sailed all night, little sleep. Tried auto pilot, not good in the sloppy conditions. It worked O.K. motor sailing until winds got lighter, and then fluky winds caused problems with slatting sails etc. Finally gave up and hand steered. We saw several ships but no close calls. Beautiful sunrise, one of the most enjoyable facets of night sailing. Amazed by the sight of breaking schools of fish. Tried trolling for an hour but no luck. Arrived at Great Stirrup Cay @ 10.30, 62 miles from Grand Bahama.
There is a really nice beach in Bertram's cove, with good snorkeling. The cruise ships stop here regularly, and I stopped here with the 65'. This time we went right up to the "dinghy dock". The friendly caretakers invited us to stay, but after a short swim we flogged on across the shallow (2') inside route to Bullock's Harbor on Great Harbor Cay. The outside route was deep enough for the 65'.
Bullock's Harbor was the residue of a large, defunct, golf resort. The gorgeous beach on the other side of the island was just a short walk. This was one of the prettiest beaches I had ever seen, with a rustic snackroom to get a beer and burger at. A deserted beach house beckoned Mark and I to set up housekeeping. You could happily spend a week there, but we spent two hours, then back to the boat to cross the banks on a falling tide to Little Harbor Cay. Didn't make it. Too shallow even for us. So here we are, 4-5 miles from anywhere in 18" water, anchored next to a "sand bore", a sand ridge normally underwater, that dries at low tide. Although it's breezy, there is little wave action due to lack of water, so hopefully we'll get a good night's sleep to make up for last night.
Day 7 - Great night's sleep. We drifted with the rising tide toward Little Harbor Cay while fixing breakfast. Drifting is a most relaxing if somewhat sluggish mode of travel. After a quick visit to Chester at "Flo's Conch Bar", we found an ideal small beach with overhanging palm trees (a rarity) and had our morning swim and snorkel. Continuing on in the wake of the 65', we stopped at Frozen and alder cays (another swim, just couldn't resist the beautiful water), tried to sail (1.7 kts max.), and eventually motored to Chub cay. Our arrival at flank speed created a stir among the cruisers there, and quite a few comments about the boat, where we had been, etc.
The reef off Mama Rhoda rock is a popular snorkeling spot, and we joined several other dinghies anchored there. Of course, our "dinghy" was a little better equipped than most, and after our snorkel the fresh water shower, change to dry clothes, rum punch and stereo, did elicit an envious comment or two from the wet and cold rubber-dinghy yachties. Small boats do have their advantages.
While snorkeling Mark spotted two lobsters, almost invisibly tucked into crannies in the shallow reef. A woman nearby came over and speared one for dinner (her dinner). It seemed a shame because the lobsters are so neat to look at underwater, but they are too tasty for their own good!
We gassed up ($2.25/gal.) and looked around the small marina. There was a splendid sunset, and I took photos of two men sitting on lawn chairs in the water. The no-see-ums were vicious so we headed out for a rum punch and rock n' roll party (and dinner) aboard our boat in the anchorage. All in all a great day!
Day 8 - We departed Chub Cay under sail bright and early for Andros, about 18 miles away. The boat self-steered in 10-15 kts perfectly at 4-5 kts speed, about 60 degrees off the wind. In about 3 hours we spotted the island and confirmed our position with a quick GPS fix. Heading in the channel, a water tanker from Nassau was gaining on us from behind. A short burst of throttle quickly opened the gap back up, no doubt surprising the ship's captain as we had sails up at the time.
Morgan's Bluff, named after the pirate, was a quiet place with a decent beach with weird sand like quicksand along the water's edge. We sank in 12" walking in it. We motored inside the reef (Andros has the third longest barrier reef in the world) about 12 miles to the largest town, Nicholstown, but a nasty surge prevented us from docking at the town dock, and waves breaking on the beach discouraged us from beaching the boat. Besides, the town looked like dirt.
Back out through the reef we headed for Nassau but wind on the nose at 15-20 kts was too rough to make decent headway. The M-65 could go through pretty well, but most 30 -40' boats would have a tough time. After a bit of punishment I elected to head back to Chub, about 30 miles, which we did in 2 hours under jib and motor. The jib seemed to steady the boat, and may have provided some drive. Back at Chub we gassed up again (thirsty bugger!) and rented bicycles for a tour of the small one road island. Walking out to a rocky point, I felt the wind had dropped and when the no-see-ums descended at dusk and we escaped to the outer harbor, I decided to take advantage of the improved conditions and continued past the anchorage towards Nassau. Mark just laughed when he realized what I was doing, and 3 hours and 36 miles later we were drinking White Russians at 'Cudas bar.
Day 9 - After breakfast aboard, we gassed up (again) and found the M-65 I sold last spring which had been sailed to Nassau by a delivery crew for the owner. We rafted alongside and convinced the marina not to charge us, as we were the "dinghy". We had permission to use the 65' but after Mark and I looked at the work it would take just to get underway, decided against it. We just took off in the little boat and spent the day sailing around Paradise Island, anchoring at various beaches off Rose and Athol Islands, snorkeling, drinking rum punch, you know, the usual.
One of the boats at the Chub Cay anchorage, a 39' sloop, had left with us, heading for Nassau, the day we went to Andros. So we were a bit surprised to see them and learn that they abandoned the Nassau trip due to rough seas and poor headway, and anchored at Whale Cay, some 6 or so miles from Chub. When the wind shifted to the west overnight, they had a nice sail downwind to Nassau. We chided them a bit about making 6 miles in their 39' boat the day we made 95 miles in our 26'. I don't like to wait for better weather, but most of the cruisers refuse to sail upwind, and in the Bahamas the wind direction changes often so it's usually not necessary if you're not in a hurry.
We had dinner at the "Poop Deck" restaurant, then enjoyed watching a video movie on one of the M-65's two color TVs. Mark abandoned ship for the comfort of the larger boat, while I "toughed it out" alongside.
Day 10 - Much halyard slapping and a little dockline jerking but an O.K. night's sleep. (helpful hint: use bungie cords to pull docklines from their center towards the boat. This greatly reduces dockline jerk) Looks like a good day to stay put! Worked on M-65 in the morning and shopped for return trip to Fla. after lunch. About 3pm, with 25-30 knot winds, we ventured bravely (or stupidly) out the inlet. It was a wild ride in 6-8' waves with rolling whitecaps. Too much! Returned to port with one knockdown and some damage to shelf in galley (screws pulled loose). The boat handled much better under power than under sail, not surprising, as maneuverability and speed control are better under power. We saw no other small boats go out. Later that evening we walked over to Paradise Island for a tour of the "wonderland" and had hot chocolate aboard the bouncy M-26 to warm up when we got back. We both bailed out to sleep in the 65', much calmer! Hopefully tomorrow we can make it back to Chub.
Day 11 - Nice breakfast of pancakes. We took our time leaving Nassau. There was no rush and we weren't too anxious to repeat yesterday's adventure in the inlet. Happily the wind was down to 20kts with somewhat more favorable direction (more broad reach then dead down). The ride back to Chub was like " Mr. Toad's Wild Ride " at Disneyland. Some roundups in the 6-8' waves, some 15-20 knot speeds zooming down waves (but mostly 9-10). Took 41/2 hours, 36 miles. Our compass course and speed estimations were a little off and I had to do a GPS fix to find Chub as we were a little south of our course. I always feel a little guilt when I do an electronic fix, as if my seamanship is somehow faulty.
Gassed up at Chub and motored 7 miles to tiny Rum Cay, the only lee between Chub and Bimini, where we fixed another memorable spaghetti dinner, with Nassau coconut bread and a salad and dessert. We thought of having "Desert First" in honor of friends we had met with a boat of the same name. Tomorrow Bimini or Bust!
Day 12 - Lots of rain last night. The boat has been surprisingly dry, with no noticeable rain or spray leaking in. I had done plenty of caulking before the trip. We departed at 7am under reefed main and partially furled jib, wing and wing, making 5-7 kts in the breezy conditions. Passed real close to a nasty looking breaking reef. Brrr! Hit max. 12.8 kts 2x surfing down big waves. We needed to sail about 15 miles to get within fuel range of Cat cay, but we were making such good time that t we sailed about 20 miles before " shifting gears" to power.
Arrived Cat Cay at 2pm for a combined avg. speed of 10 kts. Had we sailed the whole way our ETA would have been around 9pm, a nervous nighttime approach, or an uncomfortable night anchored on the " Banks". As it was, after gassing up at Cat cay, we enjoyed a visit to "Honeymoon Harbor" where we inspected the hulk of an Islander 30 that had come to grief due, no doubt, due to anchor dragging in a storm. Then it was off to the " ferrocement ship wreck", a popular snorkeling place that boasts thousands of fish and colorful corals. You can actually swim right through the sides of the ship, where the concrete has disintegrated. We headed into Bimini about 4:30, in time for a leisurely stroll around town. The sunset, accompanied by a tasty snack of Island wings, was spectacular. After dinner at the "Red lion", we paid a short visit to "The Compleat Angler", Hemingway's hangout in the 30's.
We anchored in the narrow channel at South Bimini, and, since it was after dark, assumed no one would be out and about. So we were startled when a large dive boat appeared, whose Captain informed us that it was unwise to anchor there. (An understatement). He went directly over our anchor line, and I cringed at the thought of those huge twin props and my 3/8" line, but by some miracle he missed the line. We quickly moved to a nearby abandoned marina "slip". And our dive buddy, upon his return later, thoughtfully slowed down as he passed us, before resuming his full throttle pass down the narrow (75') ecologically fragile canal. Dats de Bahamas, Mon!
Day 13 - Up at 4.30 and underway at 5:00. I tried to sneak out with Mark still in bed, and nearly lost our little outboard as I pulled out of the slip when we bounced off a piling, snagging the dinghy motor a bit. The outgoing tide was moving us sideways faster than I could get to the controls after releasing the dock lines. You always have to be careful, and crew is helpful even on a small boat.
We blasted towards Ft. Lauderdale at 15-18 kts, passing a couple of other boats that had left just ahead of us. We were lucky (again) on our Gulf Stream weather, as winds were 15 kts behind us. We soon had to throttle back, as the building waves began to exert their influence. We added the water ballast (after a near broach). No problem! Rock 'n roll to Ft. Lauderdale, arriving 10am. (47mi.).
After gassing up for thankfully our last time (and at a mere $1.25/gal.), we headed up the ICW toward West Palm Beach, some 45 miles distant. A couple of bridges later (and a mysterious malfunction in our VHF), we decided to drop the mast to speed up the process of passing bridges.
We also speeded up the boat, adding 3 mph to our top speed. There are many "no wake" and "manatee" areas where 6 kts is the limit, but even so we were back at Cracker Boy marina at 3pm, plenty of time to retrieve our van and trailer, pop on the boat at a nearby ramp, and return to their fenced storage yard before their 4:30 closing time. It was fun to pull the boat onto the trailer, then just drive off, because all the mast lowering and tie down work had already been done. Ramp time was less than 2 minutes! It was great to be back in "civilization" again (and $1. beer at the Crown and Anchor Pub).
Day - 14 - With the warm, sunny weather we didn't mind the part of a trip no one wants to talk about. Going home? no, cleaning up! The boat was a salt crust, and every surface, nook and cranny needed washing, rinsing, waxing, WD-40, etc.etc. There was laundry to do, misc. groceries to give away, fishing rods and foul weather gear to rinse and dry, engine and boat winterizing chores and more. We finished the final check at 3pm, and our rig was ready to tackle the most dangerous part of the trip, the 1000 miles of Interstate 95. All in All, it was a great fun trip, and the 26X came through with flying colors. With a modicum of common sense, (and more gas) I would not hesitate to explore all the Bahamas clear down to Great Inagua, where it's just 65 miles to Haiti, or 50 miles to Cuba, or...
The two weeks spent aboard moves the M-26X clearly into the "cruiser" instead of the "weekender" category. I wish everyone who buys a trailerable boat "to learn how to sail" would do a couple of real trips with it. They would feel sorry for the owners of larger boats, stuck in their expensive slips, instead of envious. Of, course, it was fun for Mark and I to fly back to Nassau and spend another week aboard the '65. There is something to be said for 32000 lbs. and a knifelike entry when sailing to windward. I wonder if MacGregor will ever build a water ballasted, accordion-hulled extendible/collapsible trailerable liveaboard???
Happy Sailing from Cap't Jim
A partial list of improvements would include: depth finder, knot meter, vhf radio, am-fm stereo w/inside and outside speakers, 12v fan, compass, extra interior lights w/ red & white bulbs (for night vision), additional shelves, bins, racks, etc., Bimini top, swim ladder, 50 hp motor w/ power tilt, pressure water system with 15 gallon tank and both inside and outside showers, mainsail luff slides, roller furling jib, racing spinnaker w/pole, trapeze w/harness (what?), custom pedestal guard w/ table, boom vang, 1 man mast raiser system, GPS, EPIRB, shotgun and about 800 lbs. of personal gear, an inflatable dinghy w/ 2hp outboard. Almost all of these items are now available as options on a new MacGregor 26x.
After all the effort to prepare for the trip, the actual drive to West Palm Beach went smoothly and with rigging, launching, and last minute provisioning readily accomplished we (my longtime friend and sailing companion Mark Svenson and me) were at last ready to depart.
Day One - Depart WPB Lake Worth inlet approx. 0930 course 105, speed 13-15 kts. Making good time in favorable conditions. Fuel consumption 6 gph, noon GPS fix 16 miles to go. Unfortunately, We are out of gas and the wind is on the nose, 5-10 kts. Now making 3-4 kts, sure wish I had brought 2 more 6 gal. tanks, but then we would have missed a pleasant if somewhat tedious sail to West End, arriving 6pm. After putting out the fire in the alcohol stove fuel tank cover, (remove cover before lighting), we fixed a killer dinner of steak, potatoes, onions and cheese noodles. Mark and I had planned to diet and lose a few pounds on this trip, (starting tomorrow).
As the anchorage was a little rolly, we deployed the "flopper stoppers", a device that looked like two stacks of witch's hats and hang over the side into the water. They worked somewhat like that, but better when we suspended one from the boom and the other from the spinnaker pole, as far out as we could swing them. All this fiddling was a pain, and we never bothered to use them again. It was much easier to simply anchor in shallow protected water, or even beach the boat if we wished.
Day 2 - (12/3/95) Motored into nearby West End marina for customs clearance. It felt a little strange to be back just 11 months after the 65' trip. Mark enjoyed the tour of the defunct Jack Tar Village resort, with its beautiful but deserted beach. I felt a bit like a tour guide. After clearing customs we attempted to sail to Xanadu but quickly were reminded we were not in the 65. The 20 kt S.E.wind slowed our vmg to 2 kts under reefed main and partially furled jib, turning the 20 miles into a potential all day ordeal. A quick about-face put us on a comfortable broad reach back to West End, where we tackled the protected but shallow northern coast of Grand Bahama Island. With about a 4' tide, the shallow areas get very tricky at low tide, and we found ourselves scraping the bottom with the prop several times. A spare prop would have been a good idea. We made it to the middle of nowhere and anchored, (Crissy-swash, an area of mangrove islands with no beaches). Enjoyed a bottle of white wine and spaghetti dinner w/ salad. (Tip - cook up all the hamburger at once; it will keep for days and you can add it to almost anything).
Day 3 -
Exiting the canal, we motored over to Peterson Island (part of the Bahamas National Park) for some excellent shallow coral snorkeling. Lots of fish! Had a great sail 2 hours to Port Lucaya, where the friendly folks at the Port Lucayan Marina offered us a free night's dockage. It was a brand new marina with beautiful showers and heads, (greatly appreciated after several days with primitive facilities). The free water taxi ran every 30-min. across to the quaint tourist area of Port Lucaya, with 21 restaurants and a casino. A Bahamian fish dinner w/ complimentary rum punch sure hit the spot after a busy day. The sounds of the bandstand faded as we nestled into our bunks.
Day 4 - Decided to rent a car and do the usual tourist stuff. Did 157 miles of not much. Read about three neat sounding restaurants. Two were closed and we couldn't find the other one. Visited two Bahamas Nat'l Park sites, both a 3 on a scale of ten. Wallace Groves Park (named after the founder of Freeport) was a beautifully landscaped area of 11 acres, well worth the visit. Had an unusual dinner of Southern ham hocks at " Fat Man's Nephew " restaurant in Port Lucaya. Foolishly gambled away $1.50 at the International Bazaar. Ended up watching a movie at "Cap't Kenny's, the local " meet market ", while Mark endlessly and fruitlessly chased women.
Day 5 - Lots of telephone calls to make further plans. Time consuming. Checked into shipping the boat back from Nassau, which would give us more flexibility. Bureaucratic BS and $800- $1700 est. Checked out of Port Lucaya Marina and into Lucayan Village Marina, across the harbor. Much nicer, with a beautiful pool w/ hot tub, and direct access to the beach and "mall" area. After the hassle of driving yesterday I was ready for some beach time! After a mediocre dinner at the "Caribe Club", we set sail for the Berry Islands (about 9pm) with a following breeze and full moon. Slow and lumpy, making 3-4 knots, saving gas, but not sleep.
Day 6 - Sailed all night, little sleep. Tried auto pilot, not good in the sloppy conditions. It worked O.K. motor sailing until winds got lighter, and then fluky winds caused problems with slatting sails etc. Finally gave up and hand steered. We saw several ships but no close calls. Beautiful sunrise, one of the most enjoyable facets of night sailing. Amazed by the sight of breaking schools of fish. Tried trolling for an hour but no luck. Arrived at Great Stirrup Cay @ 10.30, 62 miles from Grand Bahama.
Bullock's Harbor was the residue of a large, defunct, golf resort. The gorgeous beach on the other side of the island was just a short walk. This was one of the prettiest beaches I had ever seen, with a rustic snackroom to get a beer and burger at. A deserted beach house beckoned Mark and I to set up housekeeping. You could happily spend a week there, but we spent two hours, then back to the boat to cross the banks on a falling tide to Little Harbor Cay. Didn't make it. Too shallow even for us. So here we are, 4-5 miles from anywhere in 18" water, anchored next to a "sand bore", a sand ridge normally underwater, that dries at low tide. Although it's breezy, there is little wave action due to lack of water, so hopefully we'll get a good night's sleep to make up for last night.
Day 7 - Great night's sleep. We drifted with the rising tide toward Little Harbor Cay while fixing breakfast. Drifting is a most relaxing if somewhat sluggish mode of travel. After a quick visit to Chester at "Flo's Conch Bar", we found an ideal small beach with overhanging palm trees (a rarity) and had our morning swim and snorkel. Continuing on in the wake of the 65', we stopped at Frozen and alder cays (another swim, just couldn't resist the beautiful water), tried to sail (1.7 kts max.), and eventually motored to Chub cay. Our arrival at flank speed created a stir among the cruisers there, and quite a few comments about the boat, where we had been, etc.
The reef off Mama Rhoda rock is a popular snorkeling spot, and we joined several other dinghies anchored there. Of course, our "dinghy" was a little better equipped than most, and after our snorkel the fresh water shower, change to dry clothes, rum punch and stereo, did elicit an envious comment or two from the wet and cold rubber-dinghy yachties. Small boats do have their advantages.
While snorkeling Mark spotted two lobsters, almost invisibly tucked into crannies in the shallow reef. A woman nearby came over and speared one for dinner (her dinner). It seemed a shame because the lobsters are so neat to look at underwater, but they are too tasty for their own good!
We gassed up ($2.25/gal.) and looked around the small marina. There was a splendid sunset, and I took photos of two men sitting on lawn chairs in the water. The no-see-ums were vicious so we headed out for a rum punch and rock n' roll party (and dinner) aboard our boat in the anchorage. All in all a great day!
Day 8 - We departed Chub Cay under sail bright and early for Andros, about 18 miles away. The boat self-steered in 10-15 kts perfectly at 4-5 kts speed, about 60 degrees off the wind. In about 3 hours we spotted the island and confirmed our position with a quick GPS fix. Heading in the channel, a water tanker from Nassau was gaining on us from behind. A short burst of throttle quickly opened the gap back up, no doubt surprising the ship's captain as we had sails up at the time.
Morgan's Bluff, named after the pirate, was a quiet place with a decent beach with weird sand like quicksand along the water's edge. We sank in 12" walking in it. We motored inside the reef (Andros has the third longest barrier reef in the world) about 12 miles to the largest town, Nicholstown, but a nasty surge prevented us from docking at the town dock, and waves breaking on the beach discouraged us from beaching the boat. Besides, the town looked like dirt.
Back out through the reef we headed for Nassau but wind on the nose at 15-20 kts was too rough to make decent headway. The M-65 could go through pretty well, but most 30 -40' boats would have a tough time. After a bit of punishment I elected to head back to Chub, about 30 miles, which we did in 2 hours under jib and motor. The jib seemed to steady the boat, and may have provided some drive. Back at Chub we gassed up again (thirsty bugger!) and rented bicycles for a tour of the small one road island. Walking out to a rocky point, I felt the wind had dropped and when the no-see-ums descended at dusk and we escaped to the outer harbor, I decided to take advantage of the improved conditions and continued past the anchorage towards Nassau. Mark just laughed when he realized what I was doing, and 3 hours and 36 miles later we were drinking White Russians at 'Cudas bar.
Day 9 - After breakfast aboard, we gassed up (again) and found the M-65 I sold last spring which had been sailed to Nassau by a delivery crew for the owner. We rafted alongside and convinced the marina not to charge us, as we were the "dinghy". We had permission to use the 65' but after Mark and I looked at the work it would take just to get underway, decided against it. We just took off in the little boat and spent the day sailing around Paradise Island, anchoring at various beaches off Rose and Athol Islands, snorkeling, drinking rum punch, you know, the usual.
One of the boats at the Chub Cay anchorage, a 39' sloop, had left with us, heading for Nassau, the day we went to Andros. So we were a bit surprised to see them and learn that they abandoned the Nassau trip due to rough seas and poor headway, and anchored at Whale Cay, some 6 or so miles from Chub. When the wind shifted to the west overnight, they had a nice sail downwind to Nassau. We chided them a bit about making 6 miles in their 39' boat the day we made 95 miles in our 26'. I don't like to wait for better weather, but most of the cruisers refuse to sail upwind, and in the Bahamas the wind direction changes often so it's usually not necessary if you're not in a hurry.
We had dinner at the "Poop Deck" restaurant, then enjoyed watching a video movie on one of the M-65's two color TVs. Mark abandoned ship for the comfort of the larger boat, while I "toughed it out" alongside.
Day 10 - Much halyard slapping and a little dockline jerking but an O.K. night's sleep. (helpful hint: use bungie cords to pull docklines from their center towards the boat. This greatly reduces dockline jerk) Looks like a good day to stay put! Worked on M-65 in the morning and shopped for return trip to Fla. after lunch. About 3pm, with 25-30 knot winds, we ventured bravely (or stupidly) out the inlet. It was a wild ride in 6-8' waves with rolling whitecaps. Too much! Returned to port with one knockdown and some damage to shelf in galley (screws pulled loose). The boat handled much better under power than under sail, not surprising, as maneuverability and speed control are better under power. We saw no other small boats go out. Later that evening we walked over to Paradise Island for a tour of the "wonderland" and had hot chocolate aboard the bouncy M-26 to warm up when we got back. We both bailed out to sleep in the 65', much calmer! Hopefully tomorrow we can make it back to Chub.
Day 11 - Nice breakfast of pancakes. We took our time leaving Nassau. There was no rush and we weren't too anxious to repeat yesterday's adventure in the inlet. Happily the wind was down to 20kts with somewhat more favorable direction (more broad reach then dead down). The ride back to Chub was like " Mr. Toad's Wild Ride " at Disneyland. Some roundups in the 6-8' waves, some 15-20 knot speeds zooming down waves (but mostly 9-10). Took 41/2 hours, 36 miles. Our compass course and speed estimations were a little off and I had to do a GPS fix to find Chub as we were a little south of our course. I always feel a little guilt when I do an electronic fix, as if my seamanship is somehow faulty.
Gassed up at Chub and motored 7 miles to tiny Rum Cay, the only lee between Chub and Bimini, where we fixed another memorable spaghetti dinner, with Nassau coconut bread and a salad and dessert. We thought of having "Desert First" in honor of friends we had met with a boat of the same name. Tomorrow Bimini or Bust!
Day 12 - Lots of rain last night. The boat has been surprisingly dry, with no noticeable rain or spray leaking in. I had done plenty of caulking before the trip. We departed at 7am under reefed main and partially furled jib, wing and wing, making 5-7 kts in the breezy conditions. Passed real close to a nasty looking breaking reef. Brrr! Hit max. 12.8 kts 2x surfing down big waves. We needed to sail about 15 miles to get within fuel range of Cat cay, but we were making such good time that t we sailed about 20 miles before " shifting gears" to power.
Arrived Cat Cay at 2pm for a combined avg. speed of 10 kts. Had we sailed the whole way our ETA would have been around 9pm, a nervous nighttime approach, or an uncomfortable night anchored on the " Banks". As it was, after gassing up at Cat cay, we enjoyed a visit to "Honeymoon Harbor" where we inspected the hulk of an Islander 30 that had come to grief due, no doubt, due to anchor dragging in a storm. Then it was off to the " ferrocement ship wreck", a popular snorkeling place that boasts thousands of fish and colorful corals. You can actually swim right through the sides of the ship, where the concrete has disintegrated. We headed into Bimini about 4:30, in time for a leisurely stroll around town. The sunset, accompanied by a tasty snack of Island wings, was spectacular. After dinner at the "Red lion", we paid a short visit to "The Compleat Angler", Hemingway's hangout in the 30's.
Day 13 - Up at 4.30 and underway at 5:00. I tried to sneak out with Mark still in bed, and nearly lost our little outboard as I pulled out of the slip when we bounced off a piling, snagging the dinghy motor a bit. The outgoing tide was moving us sideways faster than I could get to the controls after releasing the dock lines. You always have to be careful, and crew is helpful even on a small boat.
We blasted towards Ft. Lauderdale at 15-18 kts, passing a couple of other boats that had left just ahead of us. We were lucky (again) on our Gulf Stream weather, as winds were 15 kts behind us. We soon had to throttle back, as the building waves began to exert their influence. We added the water ballast (after a near broach). No problem! Rock 'n roll to Ft. Lauderdale, arriving 10am. (47mi.).
After gassing up for thankfully our last time (and at a mere $1.25/gal.), we headed up the ICW toward West Palm Beach, some 45 miles distant. A couple of bridges later (and a mysterious malfunction in our VHF), we decided to drop the mast to speed up the process of passing bridges.
We also speeded up the boat, adding 3 mph to our top speed. There are many "no wake" and "manatee" areas where 6 kts is the limit, but even so we were back at Cracker Boy marina at 3pm, plenty of time to retrieve our van and trailer, pop on the boat at a nearby ramp, and return to their fenced storage yard before their 4:30 closing time. It was fun to pull the boat onto the trailer, then just drive off, because all the mast lowering and tie down work had already been done. Ramp time was less than 2 minutes! It was great to be back in "civilization" again (and $1. beer at the Crown and Anchor Pub).
Day - 14 - With the warm, sunny weather we didn't mind the part of a trip no one wants to talk about. Going home? no, cleaning up! The boat was a salt crust, and every surface, nook and cranny needed washing, rinsing, waxing, WD-40, etc.etc. There was laundry to do, misc. groceries to give away, fishing rods and foul weather gear to rinse and dry, engine and boat winterizing chores and more. We finished the final check at 3pm, and our rig was ready to tackle the most dangerous part of the trip, the 1000 miles of Interstate 95. All in All, it was a great fun trip, and the 26X came through with flying colors. With a modicum of common sense, (and more gas) I would not hesitate to explore all the Bahamas clear down to Great Inagua, where it's just 65 miles to Haiti, or 50 miles to Cuba, or...
The two weeks spent aboard moves the M-26X clearly into the "cruiser" instead of the "weekender" category. I wish everyone who buys a trailerable boat "to learn how to sail" would do a couple of real trips with it. They would feel sorry for the owners of larger boats, stuck in their expensive slips, instead of envious. Of, course, it was fun for Mark and I to fly back to Nassau and spend another week aboard the '65. There is something to be said for 32000 lbs. and a knifelike entry when sailing to windward. I wonder if MacGregor will ever build a water ballasted, accordion-hulled extendible/collapsible trailerable liveaboard???
Happy Sailing from Cap't Jim
Friday, December 1, 1995
DRY TORTUGAS BLITZKRIEG
Due to business time constraints the window for this trip was only 8 days, but because of the opportunity to cruise in company with another M-26X, I decided at the last minute to just go ahead and "GO". After quickly dropping the mast on Saturday, 11/30, I spent about an hour throwing some things into the van and then left for a dinner engagement. I was operating on autopilot from many previous trips and hoped I wouldn't forget anything important.
Up at 0330 and on the road at 0430, (early AM is definitely the time to travel), I pounded relentlessly down I95 @65mph, through constant rain and drizzle, past Jacksonville Fla. and after 18 hours driving was ready for a nap in the boat. Usually I make the bed in advance. This time I had to drag the blankets etc. into the boat from the van but eventually created a comfy nest and crashed for 4 hours. Up at 2am and back on 95 nonstop to the Keys, arriving Bahia Honda State Park @ 11am, after a nice breakfast in Key Largo. By 1:00 PM I was rigged, loaded, sorted, launched and ready to go except for provisioning. Where were the other boats? A short nap after lunch proved too tempting and soon I was making up for lost sleep big time. You can't cheat mother nature for long.
John and Allison Wikle from North Carolina on " Island Girl" came in from a great day sailing and snorkeling and we quickly reconfirmed plans to leave the next morning for the Dry Tortugas ( about 100 miles from Bahia Honda). We all went out provisioning, had dinner at a small local restaurant I couldn't ever find again, put up the mosquito netting and sacked out.
There was a small trimaran docked near us and we met the owner, in the morning. John Patterson is a boat builder by trade and avocation who had trailered his latest creation, a 20' trimaran weighing 750lbs from his home in Michigan. No matter how far you drive (1250 miles) and how far you plan to sail (100 miles) there is someone who has just driven further (from Michigan) and is sailing further (to Georgetown, Exumas, Bahamas @ 400 mi.) and in a much smaller 20' boat yet!
After a leisurely breakfast we set out into a beautiful warm, sunny morning with a light following breeze. I put up my "cheater" spinnaker so called because the M-26 is 3/4 rigged and the spinnaker is masthead rigged from a Catalina 25. With no support at the top of the mast it is a " light air only" sail.
Poor John had to motor constantly to keep up. Later the wind freshened and shifted north and John passed me with his 150 genoa while I was struggling to douse the spinnaker and unfurl the jib. After balancing the boat on a close-hauled course I took to the trapeze ( actually a bosn's chair ) for about 45 minutes, coming in only once for a course correction and a cold beer. We had a ball and sailed for 6 hours, almost all the way to Key West.
After gassing up in Key West amid a demonstration of U.S.Army Helicopter assault troops rappelling down from the helicopters onto a ship (very noisy) we were glad to be away from there and off to the Marqueses Islands, about 20 miles. We motored over at what I hoped would be an economical speed of 13-14 knots, arriving just before sundown to fix a bountiful dinner of steak, potatoes, onions, wine, and "gourmet" chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
Wed. Dec. 4 - Day 4 - Up at 0630, motored out into the calm morning and saw some birds diving on baitfish, so unleashed the trolling rods and began to circle. John Wikle puttered up a little later and went on ahead on a course of 280 degrees. No luck fishing so I flogged the Johnson and passed John. I ran out a six-gallon tank and then it was time to sail. The breeze picked up and a reef in the main became necessary. The course was a beam to close reach, so the boat balanced well. When John finally caught up he couldn't believe it. I was catnapping on the stern in 15 - 18- knots of wind and 3-4' seas while the boat faithfully sailed 280 - 300. Occasionally a larger wave would knock me off course and require a little tweaking of the wheel. John continued to motorsail alongside as we had only about 10 miles to go and he was a bit nervous about going on the tilting deck to hoist the main. This being their first open water passage they did well to stick it out.
After arriving at Ft. Jefferson John and Allison took the tour while I walked around and chatted with some campers. Ft. Jefferson must be the only National Park that allows free camping, and people bring over kayaks to get around between the islands.
The local fishermen sell their wares and will even cook them for you if you want, but we passed up lobster for Hamburger. Moral- don't take meat to the Dry Tortugas, take extra beer to trade.
We filled up, and the cookies were holding up.
Day 5 Said good-bye to John and Allison. The were concerned about getting back to work on time. Hey Mon! What could I do? It was too bad they left. The day started out calm and sunny and very warm, in the 80's. A nice day is exactly what you need after a rough passage, and really makes a difference in your attitude. I chugged over to Loggerhead Key, a "private" Park Service Island where you are supposed to request permission to land, Naturally I found all this out while basking on the beach at the tip of the Island. While basking I noticed a little movement, a small hermit crab scuttled along, and I scooped him up to be my companion on the trip back. Hermit crabs are quite lively and entertaining fellows, but I have never succeeded in feeding one although I have tried meat,cookies,cheese, crackers, apple, sea weed etc. They all die in a few days, so I decided to let this one go when I got back to Bahia Honda. The snorkeling was decent, and I saw a nurse shark, lots of barracuda and a loggerhead turtle.
The caretaker had mentioned a wreck only a mile away so off I went in search of treasure. Luckily the Ft. Jefferson Divers showed up and led me to it or I never would have found it, even though a teensy bit sticks up above the sea. It looks like a bird sitting on the water. After a fun snorkel around the wreck I was ready to head back but... the anchor refused to budge off the bottom. A fair amount of tugging and swearing later, I decided to let "Big John(son)" try. At about 1/4 throttle the anchor came up, somewhat the worse for wear. A black looking cloud was looming on the horizon so I scurried back to Ft. Jefferson.
Sure enough, the perfect day deteriorated to torrential rain by 4pm when a little squall blew through the anchorage, but I was snug and dry down below. Heated up some leftovers for dinner and turned in early in anticipation of an early departure for Key West.
Day 6 - Underway 0600. Followed a fisherman out the channel, chuckling to myself at what he must have thought when the little sailboat behind him kept up while he accelerated to flank speed.
Passed half-moon shoal at 0730. Out of gas at 8:10. Sailing, light air, no ballast making 3-4 knots. GPS fix says 11.4 miles to Marqueses. 1030, breeze increasing, time to fill the old water tank. Amazing, boat speed actually increased one knot. Saw several cruising boats taking advantage of the window to sail to the Tortugas in beautiful weather. Now doing 5.5 kts, course 90 degrees, boat balanced, stereo on, novel in hand, Bimini sunshade in position, cold soda and sour cream 'n onion potato chips. Is this Heaven or what? Heaven was short lived. Guess I was having too good a time, 'caus the wind proceeded to die and that was when I noticed a nasty little current about 1 knot west. At 6pm I completed the 11,4 miles. that I started at 8:10 that morning. That's right, 10 hours to make 11.4 miles. It was HELL!!
I moseyed over closer to the shoreline, casually checking the chart, Huuumm! Looks like some CLUNK! rocks hereabouts. The centerboard bounced over a brain coral head but happily the rudders missed it. I hit the only rock in the area! I noticed some cruisers anchored nearby and sailed over to investigate. Actually the hope of scrounging some spare gas was what attracted me to the other boats
Managed to beg some surplus dingy gas from some cruisers who were returning to Key West (Actually traded for rum and munchies). Thus fortified with 4 gallons, I putted economically back, tying up to a gas dock @ 9pm, too tired to be attracted by the sounds of revelry from downtown.
Day 7 - Definitely the first customer at 0600, I filled two tanks and went out into the pre-dawn darkness. It was still quite calm and after the frustration of the preceding day I let 'er rip, 20 kts towards Bahia Honda key some 30 miles distant. It was still early as I passed Looe key reef, so I went over and picked up a mooring and fixed a fine breakfast while waiting for the sun to climb high enough for good snorkeling light. Unfortunately a rain squall came along and soon the exposed mooring area was choppy. Oh Poo! Well, may as well end this trip with a ten mile run in the rain. The rain is very local and on the way back I passed in and out of showers several times and raced alongside one where I could steer in and out of the rain along the edge of the shower area at will. Back at Bahia Honda ramp, there were the Wikles, just hauling out. They took the leisurely way back while I am more of the mad dash type. The sun broke out and soon we were all tidied up and ready for the trip north. Having different plans, we said our good-byes , they headed for the hiway and I headed for the shower, a nice long hot one. Some day I'm going to install hot water on the MacGregor, probably a small propane flash heater, or possibly some kind of solar heater. Before leaving, I remembered the little hermit crab "Hermie", who was still in the boat in a bowl in the sink. I got him and found a nice spot for him (her, it) in the sand near the beach. It was slow going back up I95 past Miami and after driving through more rain I stopped at Riviera Beach ( near West Palm) at one of my favorite restaurants, on Rt. 1, the Holiday House where a complete family style buffet is served, a real feast including triple layer cake for $7.99. After that, I couldn't make it much further so a dark lumberyard parking lot beckoned. It's great to be curled up snug in your bunk in the rain, and the trailer is as secure an anchorage, as you are likely to get.
Day 8- In the morning I got the bright idea of leaving the boat in a storage lot in Stuart Fla. ($1/day). As I planned to return over the Christmas Holidays I figured the gas savings would pay for the storage, with less wear and tear on the tow vehicle (and me). Rai Aubrey did this last year with his boat Stuart is right at the cross Fla. canal the goes through Lake Okeechobee to Ft. Meyers, and I thought that would make a fun trip. Then it was back to pounding out the miles on I95, relentlessly pushing on, fortified with coffee at a surprisingly crowded waffle house midnight, arriving home at 2:40 am, much to the "delight" of my spouse.
-Cap't Jim
Up at 0330 and on the road at 0430, (early AM is definitely the time to travel), I pounded relentlessly down I95 @65mph, through constant rain and drizzle, past Jacksonville Fla. and after 18 hours driving was ready for a nap in the boat. Usually I make the bed in advance. This time I had to drag the blankets etc. into the boat from the van but eventually created a comfy nest and crashed for 4 hours. Up at 2am and back on 95 nonstop to the Keys, arriving Bahia Honda State Park @ 11am, after a nice breakfast in Key Largo. By 1:00 PM I was rigged, loaded, sorted, launched and ready to go except for provisioning. Where were the other boats? A short nap after lunch proved too tempting and soon I was making up for lost sleep big time. You can't cheat mother nature for long.
John and Allison Wikle from North Carolina on " Island Girl" came in from a great day sailing and snorkeling and we quickly reconfirmed plans to leave the next morning for the Dry Tortugas ( about 100 miles from Bahia Honda). We all went out provisioning, had dinner at a small local restaurant I couldn't ever find again, put up the mosquito netting and sacked out.
There was a small trimaran docked near us and we met the owner, in the morning. John Patterson is a boat builder by trade and avocation who had trailered his latest creation, a 20' trimaran weighing 750lbs from his home in Michigan. No matter how far you drive (1250 miles) and how far you plan to sail (100 miles) there is someone who has just driven further (from Michigan) and is sailing further (to Georgetown, Exumas, Bahamas @ 400 mi.) and in a much smaller 20' boat yet!
After a leisurely breakfast we set out into a beautiful warm, sunny morning with a light following breeze. I put up my "cheater" spinnaker so called because the M-26 is 3/4 rigged and the spinnaker is masthead rigged from a Catalina 25. With no support at the top of the mast it is a " light air only" sail.
Poor John had to motor constantly to keep up. Later the wind freshened and shifted north and John passed me with his 150 genoa while I was struggling to douse the spinnaker and unfurl the jib. After balancing the boat on a close-hauled course I took to the trapeze ( actually a bosn's chair ) for about 45 minutes, coming in only once for a course correction and a cold beer. We had a ball and sailed for 6 hours, almost all the way to Key West.
After gassing up in Key West amid a demonstration of U.S.Army Helicopter assault troops rappelling down from the helicopters onto a ship (very noisy) we were glad to be away from there and off to the Marqueses Islands, about 20 miles. We motored over at what I hoped would be an economical speed of 13-14 knots, arriving just before sundown to fix a bountiful dinner of steak, potatoes, onions, wine, and "gourmet" chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
Wed. Dec. 4 - Day 4 - Up at 0630, motored out into the calm morning and saw some birds diving on baitfish, so unleashed the trolling rods and began to circle. John Wikle puttered up a little later and went on ahead on a course of 280 degrees. No luck fishing so I flogged the Johnson and passed John. I ran out a six-gallon tank and then it was time to sail. The breeze picked up and a reef in the main became necessary. The course was a beam to close reach, so the boat balanced well. When John finally caught up he couldn't believe it. I was catnapping on the stern in 15 - 18- knots of wind and 3-4' seas while the boat faithfully sailed 280 - 300. Occasionally a larger wave would knock me off course and require a little tweaking of the wheel. John continued to motorsail alongside as we had only about 10 miles to go and he was a bit nervous about going on the tilting deck to hoist the main. This being their first open water passage they did well to stick it out.
After arriving at Ft. Jefferson John and Allison took the tour while I walked around and chatted with some campers. Ft. Jefferson must be the only National Park that allows free camping, and people bring over kayaks to get around between the islands.
The local fishermen sell their wares and will even cook them for you if you want, but we passed up lobster for Hamburger. Moral- don't take meat to the Dry Tortugas, take extra beer to trade.
We filled up, and the cookies were holding up.
Day 5 Said good-bye to John and Allison. The were concerned about getting back to work on time. Hey Mon! What could I do? It was too bad they left. The day started out calm and sunny and very warm, in the 80's. A nice day is exactly what you need after a rough passage, and really makes a difference in your attitude. I chugged over to Loggerhead Key, a "private" Park Service Island where you are supposed to request permission to land, Naturally I found all this out while basking on the beach at the tip of the Island. While basking I noticed a little movement, a small hermit crab scuttled along, and I scooped him up to be my companion on the trip back. Hermit crabs are quite lively and entertaining fellows, but I have never succeeded in feeding one although I have tried meat,cookies,cheese, crackers, apple, sea weed etc. They all die in a few days, so I decided to let this one go when I got back to Bahia Honda. The snorkeling was decent, and I saw a nurse shark, lots of barracuda and a loggerhead turtle.
The caretaker had mentioned a wreck only a mile away so off I went in search of treasure. Luckily the Ft. Jefferson Divers showed up and led me to it or I never would have found it, even though a teensy bit sticks up above the sea. It looks like a bird sitting on the water. After a fun snorkel around the wreck I was ready to head back but... the anchor refused to budge off the bottom. A fair amount of tugging and swearing later, I decided to let "Big John(son)" try. At about 1/4 throttle the anchor came up, somewhat the worse for wear. A black looking cloud was looming on the horizon so I scurried back to Ft. Jefferson.
Sure enough, the perfect day deteriorated to torrential rain by 4pm when a little squall blew through the anchorage, but I was snug and dry down below. Heated up some leftovers for dinner and turned in early in anticipation of an early departure for Key West.
Day 6 - Underway 0600. Followed a fisherman out the channel, chuckling to myself at what he must have thought when the little sailboat behind him kept up while he accelerated to flank speed.
Passed half-moon shoal at 0730. Out of gas at 8:10. Sailing, light air, no ballast making 3-4 knots. GPS fix says 11.4 miles to Marqueses. 1030, breeze increasing, time to fill the old water tank. Amazing, boat speed actually increased one knot. Saw several cruising boats taking advantage of the window to sail to the Tortugas in beautiful weather. Now doing 5.5 kts, course 90 degrees, boat balanced, stereo on, novel in hand, Bimini sunshade in position, cold soda and sour cream 'n onion potato chips. Is this Heaven or what? Heaven was short lived. Guess I was having too good a time, 'caus the wind proceeded to die and that was when I noticed a nasty little current about 1 knot west. At 6pm I completed the 11,4 miles. that I started at 8:10 that morning. That's right, 10 hours to make 11.4 miles. It was HELL!!
I moseyed over closer to the shoreline, casually checking the chart, Huuumm! Looks like some CLUNK! rocks hereabouts. The centerboard bounced over a brain coral head but happily the rudders missed it. I hit the only rock in the area! I noticed some cruisers anchored nearby and sailed over to investigate. Actually the hope of scrounging some spare gas was what attracted me to the other boats
Managed to beg some surplus dingy gas from some cruisers who were returning to Key West (Actually traded for rum and munchies). Thus fortified with 4 gallons, I putted economically back, tying up to a gas dock @ 9pm, too tired to be attracted by the sounds of revelry from downtown.
Day 7 - Definitely the first customer at 0600, I filled two tanks and went out into the pre-dawn darkness. It was still quite calm and after the frustration of the preceding day I let 'er rip, 20 kts towards Bahia Honda key some 30 miles distant. It was still early as I passed Looe key reef, so I went over and picked up a mooring and fixed a fine breakfast while waiting for the sun to climb high enough for good snorkeling light. Unfortunately a rain squall came along and soon the exposed mooring area was choppy. Oh Poo! Well, may as well end this trip with a ten mile run in the rain. The rain is very local and on the way back I passed in and out of showers several times and raced alongside one where I could steer in and out of the rain along the edge of the shower area at will. Back at Bahia Honda ramp, there were the Wikles, just hauling out. They took the leisurely way back while I am more of the mad dash type. The sun broke out and soon we were all tidied up and ready for the trip north. Having different plans, we said our good-byes , they headed for the hiway and I headed for the shower, a nice long hot one. Some day I'm going to install hot water on the MacGregor, probably a small propane flash heater, or possibly some kind of solar heater. Before leaving, I remembered the little hermit crab "Hermie", who was still in the boat in a bowl in the sink. I got him and found a nice spot for him (her, it) in the sand near the beach. It was slow going back up I95 past Miami and after driving through more rain I stopped at Riviera Beach ( near West Palm) at one of my favorite restaurants, on Rt. 1, the Holiday House where a complete family style buffet is served, a real feast including triple layer cake for $7.99. After that, I couldn't make it much further so a dark lumberyard parking lot beckoned. It's great to be curled up snug in your bunk in the rain, and the trailer is as secure an anchorage, as you are likely to get.
Day 8- In the morning I got the bright idea of leaving the boat in a storage lot in Stuart Fla. ($1/day). As I planned to return over the Christmas Holidays I figured the gas savings would pay for the storage, with less wear and tear on the tow vehicle (and me). Rai Aubrey did this last year with his boat Stuart is right at the cross Fla. canal the goes through Lake Okeechobee to Ft. Meyers, and I thought that would make a fun trip. Then it was back to pounding out the miles on I95, relentlessly pushing on, fortified with coffee at a surprisingly crowded waffle house midnight, arriving home at 2:40 am, much to the "delight" of my spouse.
-Cap't Jim
Sunday, August 20, 1995
Great Lakes Adventure August 13 - 19, 1995
Thousand Islands New York. Who wouldn't want to visit a place with a thousand islands? Don Gearing started it with a trip to Lake Ontario, launching at Point Breeze State Park just east of Niagara Falls. He came back smiling. Then Larry Blair, recent MacGregor 26X purchaser from the St. Lawrence area said he planned to trailer his new M-26X to eastern Lake Ontario for 2 weeks and offered to give me all the charts of the area.
There is something magical about charts. I find myself staring at them imagining private little coves and undiscovered beaches, wide rivers with wooded cliffs, historic towns with charming walks... Anyway, I was hooked so off the family went.
Day 1. The drive up I-83 to I-81 took us through Syracuse, NY straight to Watertown and was exceptionally scenic and mostly uncrowded: 500 miles of rolling farmland spiced with an occasional junkyard. A much more pleasant drive than south to Florida. Some of the hills slowed us down to 45, but it was 70 going down hill. The M-26X towed well. I added a small sway bar to the hitch and should have emptied the fuel tanks before setting out (for a little more tongue weight). Stopping for gas in Frickville, PA, we were lured to Grandma's Restaurant by the 30' tall statue of "Grandma" outside. Turned out to be a neat, antique filled place with player piano music and terrific food. Back in the van, the newly replaced (3 day old) transmission seemed reluctant to move us. A quick check of the fluid level showed none on the stick. Three quarts later we were moving but the remainder of the trip (1300 miles) took 1 quart per 100 miles. At least the oil covered trailer will be well protected from rust! (See "Selecting a New Tow Vehicle" in a future issue) Our destination was the town of Henderson with a quiet free ramp and vehicle storage area recommended by my M-65 purchaser who lives near Rochester and plans to take the M-65 up the Hudson, through the Erie Canal to Rochester next spring. (See "Cap't Jim's Erie Canal Adventure in a future issue) The nine miles from I-81 to Henderson were "under construction". Down here that means bumpy asphalt, up there it means no road . Eventually, we found the "town" ramp and were surprised to find a Lightning Regatta underway. Over 100 19' Lightnings converge for an annual 5 day regatta.lake.jpg (25975 bytes)
Day 2. After spending our first night aboard, Steven and I rigged the mast, sails, etc. while Joyce and
Janet unloaded the van and packed the boat. Normal rules of packing prevailed: about 5 times too much stuff. I never seem to learn. We took fishing rods, snorkeling gear, foul weather gear, heavy hiking boots and enough supplies for a month. We ended up wearing shorts or swim suits, flip-flops, T-shirts and eating almost all meals ashore starting with a great breakfast in nearby Henderson Harbor at an inn overlooking the water. Fresh Raspberry and Blueberry pancakes...mm-mm! Nearby Henderson Marine Service provided a convenient spot to purchase a local chart and port guide book. Charter sailboats were available (for those who can't take their own boat) and bed & breakfasts are plentiful for an auto trip.
Back at the ramp, launching was quickly accomplished, thanks to the 9" draft of the M-26X and soon we were on our way, in light winds under power, to Sackett, a small historic town about 7 miles up the Black River and best remembered for its role as defender of the U S Coastline during the War of 1812. Sackett is a beautiful old town with a great natural harbor (free docking for visitors), quaint local taverns and historic fort. After a sumptuous lunch and walking town tour, we departed at 5 p.m. Still no real wind, although plenty for the Lightning sailors heading back to Henderson. You can imagine their surprise as we blasted past the fleet at 20 mph. I should have brought the water skis to make the shock complete. Janet and Steven have skied behind the M-26X with no problems. We picked a likely looking island about 12 miles away as our destination and were soon anchored and swimming in clear, but very grassy 7 - 10" water. Using snorkel equipment and mini wet suits, it was like swimming in an aquarium, through and around the green tendrils that extended to the surface. Holding was poor, and when 15-18 knots of breeze came up it took 3 anchors to stay put.
Day 3. Explored a nearby rocky "island" that used to be a peninsula before a recent storm severed the thin connection with the main island, stranding several old buildings and wharves (complete with rotting barge.) One wonders what was there years ago, as concrete foundations with chimneys standing like sentries were discovered under a tangle of weeds and fallen trees. Probably a grand old house. After our morning walk we set sail for Cape Vincent a few miles away right at the mouth of the St. Lawrence Seaway. Most of the small towns along the St. Lawrence seem to have had their boom in the late 1800's and were forgotten by the '20's except for a colorful history of rum smuggling. Cape Vincent had its share of 1812 action, but the N Y State Fisheries station with displays and aquariums we found more interesting. Lunch at Aubrey's, whose owner recently died, reminded us to party hearty--life is so short. The beckoning breeze drew us further down river: 13 miles mostly wing and wing at 5 knots with 1 knot current. The Bimini top was a lifesaver as the sun was very warm. Daytime temperatures averaged 85%, about 7% cooler with less humidity than home. Nights required a sheet with a blanket by dawn except for one warmer night where our 12v fan was used for several hours.
Tying up at the town dock at Clayton at 50c per foot (suddenly 26' instead of 65' helps out!) we were right next to the wooden power boat museum. The family elected to stroll around town while I feasted on shiny varnished "rum-runners" and various other small and large historic craft Closing time came too soon and we met for dinner at the "Thousand Island Inn", originator of the salad dressing recipe. We bumped a bit at the town dock with local boat traffic well into the night.
Day 4. The family refused to budge so I walked into town for a hearty breakfast including venison sausage and some conversation with a lively young lady of 75 or so who entertained me with tales from her 50 years in town. Back at the boat sleepy heads were still in bed so in the early morning calm I flogged Mr. Johnson 11 miles downstream in 35 minutes to the town of Alexandria Bay, a shameless tourist trap which capitalized years ago on the narrow river for whitewater canoe trips and fishing. This is the heart of the Thousand Island area with many beautiful old homes, some covering the small island rocks upon which they stand. Some are open for tours or are B & B's. The river is placid now. The completion of the St. Lawrence Canal/ Seaway project in the 60's included several locks and dams to control the river and increase navigability. Some homes and islands were lost to rising water levels. We enjoyed motoring around and through a never-ending wonderland of quiet coves, waterfront homes and old boats.
We enjoyed a late breakfast buffet on a floating barge with a scenic view of Bolt Castle directly across the river on Heart Island. As the story goes, in 1904 4 years of work by up to 300 workmen at a cost of $2.5 million stopped suddenly upon the death of George Bolt's beloved wife, Louise. The 127-room extravaganza with two other smaller castles was never completed. It made a fascinating tour and was the highlight of the trip. Escaping from Alexandria Bay with its 7 disco nightclubs nestled among hotels of long faded glory, we motored over to the Canadian side, stopping for a swim near Wellesly Island State Park. The boundary line zigzags along the river around the islands to accommodate the then residents who felt Canadian or American. Wellesly Island formerly belonged to George Bold, part of his vast farm holdings used to supply meat and dairy products to his N Y city hotel, The Waldorf Astoria. The shallower river water was warmer than the lake providing a very refreshing swim. Despite spotting more fish here while snorkeling I never did break out the fishing gear I had brought along. The Canadian town of Ganaoque (Gan-an-ock-way) 20 miles west of Alexandria Bay had a well run municipal marina and a local waterfront fine dining inn provided dinner. Being early birds we got away with our casual attire. A festival was underway with a rock concert on a nearby point of land next to the marina. Janet and Steve went while Joyce and I fended off mosquitoes in the cockpit.
Day 5. The Blinkbonnie Inn, a fine old mansion turned hotel, provided an outstanding breakfast, and we set out through the Admiralty Islands about 10:30 a.m. for Henderson, 40 miles away. The wind is fluky in the Thousand Islands area. Some little bays had boats heeled over, others 2 to 5 miles away were flat calm. We did some sailing, then stopped in a rocky cove for swimming and lunch where a large power boat wake dislodged our anchor leaving us scurrying to get underway after retrieving the children and avoiding a collision with an inhospitable shoreline. Back through the Lightning Fleet we went (Yes, they were still sailing in the light breeze). Dropping the mast and pulling the boat out on the trailer at 4:30 went quickly. In 6 hours we had covered 40 miles including time for sailing, swimming, island exploring and retrieving the boat on the trailer. The freedom a little extra speed offers is amazing. Driving back to Syracuse we took highway 20 West which parallels I- 90 but at a slower pace, and ended up at a campground in Waterloo ($15/night).
Day 6. Leaving the boat at the campground, we hit I-90 and were among the first visitors to the country's oldest National Park, Niagara Falls. We bit for the whole deal: Maid of the Mist boat trip, Cave of the Winds Falls drenching, scenic movie, garden tour and a walk to the Canadian Horseshoe Falls. The hydroelectric demands have cut water flow over the falls in half halting the erosion at the falls to an acceptable foot a year. The falls are still very impressive, well worth the trip. Driving into Canada, we followed the Niagara River Park along the shoreline all the way to scenic Niagara-on-the-Lake to a sandy beach for a break. The Niagara River below the falls is a sailing Mecca for boats heading out onto 50 mile wide Lake Ontario which was at its most beautiful in the late afternoon sun, sails dotting the horizon as far as the eye could see.
Cutting diagonally back to our Waterloo campground, we stopped briefly along the banks of the Erie Canal in Lockville where we were tempted to take a 2 hour boat tour, but vowed instead to do the whole Hudson River, Erie Canal, Lakes Ontario, Erie, Michigan, Superior, Huron . . . "one day".
The drive home was pleasant: we just kept adding transmission fluid to "Old Faithful" and laughed when we saw Larry Blair towing his new 26X north bound to his "Great Lakes Adventure". I leave you with Cap't Jim's formula for good times: north in summer, south in winter, spring and fall on the Bay. Happy Sailing!
Capt. Jim
There is something magical about charts. I find myself staring at them imagining private little coves and undiscovered beaches, wide rivers with wooded cliffs, historic towns with charming walks... Anyway, I was hooked so off the family went.
Day 1. The drive up I-83 to I-81 took us through Syracuse, NY straight to Watertown and was exceptionally scenic and mostly uncrowded: 500 miles of rolling farmland spiced with an occasional junkyard. A much more pleasant drive than south to Florida. Some of the hills slowed us down to 45, but it was 70 going down hill. The M-26X towed well. I added a small sway bar to the hitch and should have emptied the fuel tanks before setting out (for a little more tongue weight). Stopping for gas in Frickville, PA, we were lured to Grandma's Restaurant by the 30' tall statue of "Grandma" outside. Turned out to be a neat, antique filled place with player piano music and terrific food. Back in the van, the newly replaced (3 day old) transmission seemed reluctant to move us. A quick check of the fluid level showed none on the stick. Three quarts later we were moving but the remainder of the trip (1300 miles) took 1 quart per 100 miles. At least the oil covered trailer will be well protected from rust! (See "Selecting a New Tow Vehicle" in a future issue) Our destination was the town of Henderson with a quiet free ramp and vehicle storage area recommended by my M-65 purchaser who lives near Rochester and plans to take the M-65 up the Hudson, through the Erie Canal to Rochester next spring. (See "Cap't Jim's Erie Canal Adventure in a future issue) The nine miles from I-81 to Henderson were "under construction". Down here that means bumpy asphalt, up there it means no road . Eventually, we found the "town" ramp and were surprised to find a Lightning Regatta underway. Over 100 19' Lightnings converge for an annual 5 day regatta.lake.jpg (25975 bytes)
Day 2. After spending our first night aboard, Steven and I rigged the mast, sails, etc. while Joyce and Janet unloaded the van and packed the boat. Normal rules of packing prevailed: about 5 times too much stuff. I never seem to learn. We took fishing rods, snorkeling gear, foul weather gear, heavy hiking boots and enough supplies for a month. We ended up wearing shorts or swim suits, flip-flops, T-shirts and eating almost all meals ashore starting with a great breakfast in nearby Henderson Harbor at an inn overlooking the water. Fresh Raspberry and Blueberry pancakes...mm-mm! Nearby Henderson Marine Service provided a convenient spot to purchase a local chart and port guide book. Charter sailboats were available (for those who can't take their own boat) and bed & breakfasts are plentiful for an auto trip.
Back at the ramp, launching was quickly accomplished, thanks to the 9" draft of the M-26X and soon we were on our way, in light winds under power, to Sackett, a small historic town about 7 miles up the Black River and best remembered for its role as defender of the U S Coastline during the War of 1812. Sackett is a beautiful old town with a great natural harbor (free docking for visitors), quaint local taverns and historic fort. After a sumptuous lunch and walking town tour, we departed at 5 p.m. Still no real wind, although plenty for the Lightning sailors heading back to Henderson. You can imagine their surprise as we blasted past the fleet at 20 mph. I should have brought the water skis to make the shock complete. Janet and Steven have skied behind the M-26X with no problems. We picked a likely looking island about 12 miles away as our destination and were soon anchored and swimming in clear, but very grassy 7 - 10" water. Using snorkel equipment and mini wet suits, it was like swimming in an aquarium, through and around the green tendrils that extended to the surface. Holding was poor, and when 15-18 knots of breeze came up it took 3 anchors to stay put.
Day 3. Explored a nearby rocky "island" that used to be a peninsula before a recent storm severed the thin connection with the main island, stranding several old buildings and wharves (complete with rotting barge.) One wonders what was there years ago, as concrete foundations with chimneys standing like sentries were discovered under a tangle of weeds and fallen trees. Probably a grand old house. After our morning walk we set sail for Cape Vincent a few miles away right at the mouth of the St. Lawrence Seaway. Most of the small towns along the St. Lawrence seem to have had their boom in the late 1800's and were forgotten by the '20's except for a colorful history of rum smuggling. Cape Vincent had its share of 1812 action, but the N Y State Fisheries station with displays and aquariums we found more interesting. Lunch at Aubrey's, whose owner recently died, reminded us to party hearty--life is so short. The beckoning breeze drew us further down river: 13 miles mostly wing and wing at 5 knots with 1 knot current. The Bimini top was a lifesaver as the sun was very warm. Daytime temperatures averaged 85%, about 7% cooler with less humidity than home. Nights required a sheet with a blanket by dawn except for one warmer night where our 12v fan was used for several hours.
Tying up at the town dock at Clayton at 50c per foot (suddenly 26' instead of 65' helps out!) we were right next to the wooden power boat museum. The family elected to stroll around town while I feasted on shiny varnished "rum-runners" and various other small and large historic craft Closing time came too soon and we met for dinner at the "Thousand Island Inn", originator of the salad dressing recipe. We bumped a bit at the town dock with local boat traffic well into the night.
Day 4. The family refused to budge so I walked into town for a hearty breakfast including venison sausage and some conversation with a lively young lady of 75 or so who entertained me with tales from her 50 years in town. Back at the boat sleepy heads were still in bed so in the early morning calm I flogged Mr. Johnson 11 miles downstream in 35 minutes to the town of Alexandria Bay, a shameless tourist trap which capitalized years ago on the narrow river for whitewater canoe trips and fishing. This is the heart of the Thousand Island area with many beautiful old homes, some covering the small island rocks upon which they stand. Some are open for tours or are B & B's. The river is placid now. The completion of the St. Lawrence Canal/ Seaway project in the 60's included several locks and dams to control the river and increase navigability. Some homes and islands were lost to rising water levels. We enjoyed motoring around and through a never-ending wonderland of quiet coves, waterfront homes and old boats.
We enjoyed a late breakfast buffet on a floating barge with a scenic view of Bolt Castle directly across the river on Heart Island. As the story goes, in 1904 4 years of work by up to 300 workmen at a cost of $2.5 million stopped suddenly upon the death of George Bolt's beloved wife, Louise. The 127-room extravaganza with two other smaller castles was never completed. It made a fascinating tour and was the highlight of the trip. Escaping from Alexandria Bay with its 7 disco nightclubs nestled among hotels of long faded glory, we motored over to the Canadian side, stopping for a swim near Wellesly Island State Park. The boundary line zigzags along the river around the islands to accommodate the then residents who felt Canadian or American. Wellesly Island formerly belonged to George Bold, part of his vast farm holdings used to supply meat and dairy products to his N Y city hotel, The Waldorf Astoria. The shallower river water was warmer than the lake providing a very refreshing swim. Despite spotting more fish here while snorkeling I never did break out the fishing gear I had brought along. The Canadian town of Ganaoque (Gan-an-ock-way) 20 miles west of Alexandria Bay had a well run municipal marina and a local waterfront fine dining inn provided dinner. Being early birds we got away with our casual attire. A festival was underway with a rock concert on a nearby point of land next to the marina. Janet and Steve went while Joyce and I fended off mosquitoes in the cockpit.
Day 5. The Blinkbonnie Inn, a fine old mansion turned hotel, provided an outstanding breakfast, and we set out through the Admiralty Islands about 10:30 a.m. for Henderson, 40 miles away. The wind is fluky in the Thousand Islands area. Some little bays had boats heeled over, others 2 to 5 miles away were flat calm. We did some sailing, then stopped in a rocky cove for swimming and lunch where a large power boat wake dislodged our anchor leaving us scurrying to get underway after retrieving the children and avoiding a collision with an inhospitable shoreline. Back through the Lightning Fleet we went (Yes, they were still sailing in the light breeze). Dropping the mast and pulling the boat out on the trailer at 4:30 went quickly. In 6 hours we had covered 40 miles including time for sailing, swimming, island exploring and retrieving the boat on the trailer. The freedom a little extra speed offers is amazing. Driving back to Syracuse we took highway 20 West which parallels I- 90 but at a slower pace, and ended up at a campground in Waterloo ($15/night).
Day 6. Leaving the boat at the campground, we hit I-90 and were among the first visitors to the country's oldest National Park, Niagara Falls. We bit for the whole deal: Maid of the Mist boat trip, Cave of the Winds Falls drenching, scenic movie, garden tour and a walk to the Canadian Horseshoe Falls. The hydroelectric demands have cut water flow over the falls in half halting the erosion at the falls to an acceptable foot a year. The falls are still very impressive, well worth the trip. Driving into Canada, we followed the Niagara River Park along the shoreline all the way to scenic Niagara-on-the-Lake to a sandy beach for a break. The Niagara River below the falls is a sailing Mecca for boats heading out onto 50 mile wide Lake Ontario which was at its most beautiful in the late afternoon sun, sails dotting the horizon as far as the eye could see.
Cutting diagonally back to our Waterloo campground, we stopped briefly along the banks of the Erie Canal in Lockville where we were tempted to take a 2 hour boat tour, but vowed instead to do the whole Hudson River, Erie Canal, Lakes Ontario, Erie, Michigan, Superior, Huron . . . "one day".
The drive home was pleasant: we just kept adding transmission fluid to "Old Faithful" and laughed when we saw Larry Blair towing his new 26X north bound to his "Great Lakes Adventure". I leave you with Cap't Jim's formula for good times: north in summer, south in winter, spring and fall on the Bay. Happy Sailing!
Capt. Jim
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