Back to the BVI

Since returning home from the BVI in 2014, I've been anxious to return and share the experience with my wife, June.  She's not a sailor. Doesn't like it when 6KG heels more than 5 degrees. So, I began thinking that a catamaran cruise might be the ticket.

Our son's father-in-law, Peter used to own a Catalina 30 and now he and his wife, Elaine, divide their time between their home in the Florida Keys and their cabin the NC mountains.

I asked them if they would consider chartering a cat with us in the BVI. They said that they belonged to a club called Festiva Sailing.  They joined years ago and had a fistful of trips that needed to be used before they expired.  We gladly accepted the offer to join them for a week of sailing in the BVI for the cost of airfare and provisioning fees.

We met in St. Thomas, USVI, in February and took the Roadtown Fast Ferry to Tortola, BVI, the next day.

Pete & Elaine check out 'Valerie'

We sailed out of Hodges Creek Marina aboard Valarie, a brand new Lagoon 450 with a Aussie Captain Fiona O'Connor and lst mate Jason.   It's 25' beam pretty much assured that June would have little issue with heeling.  We were joined by a couple from Brooklyn, Sergei and Gala.  Each couple had their own air conditioned cabin with private head and enclosed shower.

Day 2
The first full day aboard, we sailed to North Gorda Sound on Virgin Gorda and picked up a mooring ball off Saba Rock, a terrific little bar/restaurant that occupies a 1/4 acre island near Bitter End Resort.






We checked out Saba Rock and took the shuttle over to Bitter End Resort where Rick, Richrd and I stayed for two days aboard Lakota on my previous visit.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and at my request, Capt. Fiona had arranged for us to watch the game on the beach at Leverick Bay Resort at the other end of the Sound.  The arrangements were great but the Panthers - not so much.





Day 3
The next morning, Fionna arranged to have a driver take us to the other end of the island to visit the Baths, while she and Jason brought Valarie around to Spanish Town.

THE BATHS - located on the south end of Virgin Gorda is the BVI's biggest tourist attraction.  A long section of beach is littered with huge granite boulders stacked on top of each other. The boulders form natural tidal pools, tunnels, arches and scenic grottoes that are open to the sea.

June's bad knee didn't keep her from crawling over and under the boulders. 

We met Valarie in Spanish Town and set sail for Cooper's Island, We picked up the last open mooring ball in the bay before showering and going ashore to Cooper's Island Resort for drinks and dinner.

Day 4

We headed off on a NE course for the Annegada, a long, low coral atoll on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean.  This island is known for miles of white sand beaches and the 18 mile long Horseshoe Reef. the largest barrier coral reef in the Caribbean.   

Day 5

Our longest sail was from Annegada to Jost Van Dyke.  We dropped anchor in Great Harbor and that night visited Foxy's Tamarind Bar.  

Day 6

The next morning we sailed around the point and dropped in on White Bay and the Soggy Dollar Bar, before heading over for a short stop at West End on Tortola and Soper's Hole for fuel and water.  

Fiona had promised us the Norman Island would offer some interesting snorkeling and it didn't disappoint. First, we hit the Caves and then around the island to a bank called the Indians.

Heaving To

Heaving to is easy.  I've done it many times inadvertently.  You're sailing along nicely, not paying attention to the wind and all of a sudden your jib decides to switch sides on you.  You haven't released the jib sheet so the sail only swings halfway over.  The mainsail follows suit and you're dead in the water.

Now you're stalled, sideways to the wind and going nowhere.  It can be embarrassing in the wrong circumstances.  But, take heart.  You can always smile and tell your guests that you decided to heave to and take a break.

When you're finished 'heaving to' you are considered 'hove to'.

As you can see, heaving to is not a complicated maneuver.  Doing it properly takes a couple more steps.  Ease the mainsail, turn the boat into the wind and lock down the wheel or tiller.

The physics is simple. The backwinded jib is pushing the bow to leeward (downwind) while the mainsail and the wheel or rudder is pushing the stern to leeward as well.  The result is a stalemate. The boat drifts sideways at about a 40-60 degree angle to the wind.  The boat will move forward at about 1-2 knots and drift slowly sideways.

An important consequence of heaving to is that as the boat slides sideways, it creates a slick on the windward side that knocks down oncoming waves

In light winds, heaving to gives you a stable platform to perform simple tasks like taking in or shaking out a reef, prepare and eat a meal or just relax for a while.  It can be employed so quickly that it's even useful in man over board situations.

In storms at sea, heaving to under reduced sail can be a life saver.  It allows you to go below, batten the hatches and ride out the storm as long as you're confident that your drift heading will not take you into shore or shallow water.

Heaving to is a valuable tool that should be in every sailor's repertoire.   I usually practice it every time I go out.

Welcome Aboard Mate

I've been sailing mostly single-handed since I started with my first sailboat Seanility.  In retrospect, I guess I've been going out alone since I had my last powerboat, a 20' Boston Whaler Outrage in Ft. Lauderdale.

In those days, I liked to get up before the crack of dawn and be on the water trolling offshore as the sun peeked over the horizon.  The Whaler would beat you to death in a chop so I held out for nice flat seas.  I would wake up around 5 am, peek out the window and if the leaves were moving on the trees, I'd roll over and go back to sleep.  t was easier to go alone than to risk having to call someone at 5 am and tell them you weren't going to take them out fishing because the leaves were fluttering. They rarely helped clean the boat or pay for fuel anyway.

This Spring, I met a newcomer to Sea Harbour Yacht Club.  Steve, from Greenville, SC, purchased a Pearson 36 that had been a longtime resident of the club.  The boat had been for sale for a couple of years and needed some serious bottom work.  Steve took the boat up the river to Wayfarer's Cove to have her hauled and begin the repairs.   Unfortunately for Steve, weeks turned to months on the hard as work progressed slowly.

I met Steve the day before he moved the boat to the repair yard and offered to take him out on 6 Knot Grin whenever he needed a break from working on the boat in the 90-degree heat. Afternoons were too hot to work and the wind usually freshened significantly by 3 pm. We began to coordinate our trips to Oriental so that we could sail together.

Steve was new to sailing so I attempted to share what little knowledge I had as we spent our afternoons chasing the easiest points of sail on the wide Neuse River.  It's a pleasure to share time on the water with someone who is enthusiastic and eager to learn.

Sailing in good company makes the experience that much more enjoyable.  Not to mention, bringing in the sails in 15-20 knot winds is considerably easier.

Lazy Jacks

I used to avoid using the mainsail when I sailed single-handed because it required me to leave the cockpit to undo the sail ties that keep the mainsail tethered to the boom and again to gather the sail and tie it down when I lowered it.

I finally decided to make my own set of lazy jacks to help me gather the sail so that I can handle the mainsail easily single-handed.  They're relatively simple to construct. All you need is about 100' of small diameter line, some slip rings, and a few small blocks (pulleys).

This is a commercial version

The most difficult part is mounting the blocks up on the spreader.  I enlisted the help of dock-mate, Roger Brown to hoist me up to the spreader in a bosun's chair.  I was barely 3' over the boom when Roger announced that he wasn't comfortable with the procedure.  That's all the excuse I needed to call it quits and seek another alternative. 

I called Mark, the rigger, at SailCraft Boatyard and made an appointment to bring 6KG over to have him install the blocks. Using the bucket lift, it took Mark only 15 minutes to drill the spreader, install the small blocks and run the lazy jack lines thru them.  A bargain at twice the price.

I tied the lines for each side to a slip ring forward of the mast and then ran a single line back to a cam cleat mounted by the halyard winch.  This allows me to slack off the lazy jacks and avoid the problem of the sail battens getting caught up in the lazy jacks when I raise the main.   

Now, when I'm at the dock, preparing to go out sailing, the lazy jacks will hold the mainsail in place after I remove the sail ties.  When I get out on the river and turn into the wind, all I have to do is lock on the autopilot and move forward in the cockpit, slack off the lazy jacks and raise the main.  It's a piece of cake.

When it's time to call it a day, I raise the lazy jacks, turn into the wind and drop the main.  The sail is nicely contained by the lazy jacks and I can deal with it later when I return to the dock.

Another advantage to bringing the line back to the cockpit is that when I put the sail cover on, I simply pull the lazy jack lines forward, parallel to the boom and wrap the line around the mast winches.  No need to have slots cut in the mainsail cover to accommodate the lines.

Counting the rigger fee of $20, the entire system cost me less than $50 and has been a huge success.

Rarely do I go out sailing and not use the mainsail.

RICK FLOYD 1947-2015

Last year on my nearly month-long Caribbean cruise aboard Lakota, I made a life long friend. Unfortunately for everyone that knew him, that life was not nearly long enough.

Rick Floyd died of heart failure 4 days after undergoing gastric bypass surgery in Raleigh.  I spoke to him on the phone the day after the surgery and he sounded anxious to resume making plans for his upcoming retirement in June.

Rick was a big man.  Not tall but built like a bear.  A gentle bear. He had an infectious laugh and a desire to make others laugh with him.

Not unlike me, he had a treasure chest of stories that he liked to share.  We swapped stories for hours on end during that voyage.  At one point we agreed to hold up two fingers if one of us was repeating a story.  Sometimes he would smile and hold up four fingers.  Well, spending everyday together for nearly a month does lead to repetition. Not that we didn't have more stories, it's just hard to remember which ones we already told.

Rick saved our bacon off the island of Guadeloupe when we got blind sided by a 50-60 knot winds roaring out of a valley.  I sincerely believe we owe him our lives for how he manned the helm that day.

On our return home, Rick and I stayed in touch weekly by phone and would meet for dinner every time I came down to Oriental.  He lived in Clayton and worked for the State on a 4 day a week job. He spent every weekend aboard his 42' Beneteau, docked at Pecan Grove, in Oriental.  He loved taking friends to Cape Lookout for the weekend.

Rick was outfitting his boat in preparation for his retirement. He had a water maker installed in January and followed that up with a freezer in the Spring. Solor panels were the next order of business.

Plans were to head North for a couple of months then come about and head for the Caribbean.  He had a 100 ton captain's license and was considering an offer to captain charters in the BVI for some extra money.

I looked forward to joining him from time to time when the Admiral granted me a temporary leave of absence.

Being a big man, Rick's health was always an issue.  Even though he rarely ate big meals, he couldn't lose the weight he needed to improve his health.  He had diabetes and a bad knee which were exacerbated by his bulk. He decided that gastric bypass surgery would help get him on the road to a more healthy life style.

It was a gamble that he wasn't destined to win.  His big heart wasn't up to the task. His passing was a shock to all that knew and loved him.

His memorial service was the most heart wrenching event that I have ever attended.  As much as I wanted to step up and tell everyone what this man meant to me, I knew that I could never get the words out.

We miss you Rick.  You will always be in our hearts.  Sail on Old Friend.

 Fair winds and smooth seas

Enjoy a cheeseburger in Paradise

Hawaii Five O

As corny as this may sound,  I first met my wife, June, 50 years ago on Waikiki Beach, sitting on an outrigger canoe, under a full moon, listening to the local beach boys strum their ukuleles and sing Hawaiian songs. The rest is history.

Over the years, we've dreamed of returning to Hawaii but knew that it would never be the same. Our 50-year anniversary was the perfect excuse to go.

Our Waikiki of 50 years ago had the International Market Place where Don Ho performed every night at Duke Kahanamoku's, quaint little shops, old Hawaiian women making and selling handmade leis and palm frond hats on the street corners.  As expected, today's Waikiki is a tropical mega mall with no character at all. We visited Pearl Harbor and explored the windward side of Oahu before heading to Kauai.

Kauai is a beautiful island. We spent the first 4 days on the North Shore, where the weather is cooler and wetter and the scenery is lush and tropical.  Our condo in Princeville was perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking lines of 20-foot high waves crashing on the coral reef below.

We awoke to amazing technicolor sunrises and dazzling rainbows.

Rainbow Eucalyptus Tree

The South Shore was dryer and warmer. Waimea Canyon was beautiful.

Best Hot Fudge Sundae Ever

 

Bay River

My new dock mate, Roger, expressed an interest in extending our sailing range past South River and spending a night at anchor.  I suggested that we take my boat and go explore Bay River which lies at the mouth of the Neuse and the Pamlico Sound.  It's also the inland ICW route to the Pamilco River.

We departed late Wednesday morning and found a light SW wind on the Neuse.  The AutoHelm 4000 worked well as we made our way slowly down the river, past South River and Broad Creek to Pamlico Sound.  

The forecast had called for a high of 98 with a THI of 104.  The hottest day of the year so far. We consumed a veritable 'boat load' of water to stay hydrated but with the shade of the bimini top and the breeze, it was considerably more comfortable on the river than it had been at the dock.

There's a large shoal just downriver from Broad Creek that extends a mile or more out into the Neuse. Thanks to our chart plotter we were aware of it, passing well to the East.   Either clueless, chartless, or both, another sailboat sat grounded in the middle of the shoal.  The captain had misjudged the eastern edge of the shoal by more than half a mile.

When we made the turn to the North, we had a long downwind leg to the mouth of Bay River.  The wind speed increased as the day wore on so we hauled in the main to keep the impact of accidental jibes to a minimum.  I now understand the value of having a gybe preventer installed. Add that to the list.

For non-sailors, a gybe is when you turn the stern of the boat through the wind rather than the bow. Uncontrolled, it can result in the mainsail boom swinging violently from one side to the other - contacting heads if the boom is low (mine isn't) and possibly damaging the rigging. A gybe preventer either prevents that swing or controls its speed.

As we entered Bay River, the wind was approaching 25 knots and kicking up a chop. We needed to find shelter from the wind for our anchorage. The chart plotter showed us Long Creek on the South side of the river.  We meandered down the narrow creek quite a way before we found a suitable anchorage in the lee of a stand of tall pine trees.

The night was warm but uneventful.  Six Knot Grin's screens kept most of the mosquitoes at bay.  We rose early on Thursday morning and I prepared breakfast of ham and eggs.   

We weighed anchor and motored out to Bay River.  We enjoyed about a half hour beam reach sail on the way out to Pamlico Sound but when we made the turn, we were pinching into the wind.  We furled the genoa but not completely.  When I attempted to bring it in the rest of the way, the furler came apart and the full 160% deployed.  I had previously tied a knot in the furling line to limit the deployment to 120% but now we had a full deployment in a 20-knot wind.  The Genoa sheets were tangled and the furler line was also completely deployed.

I went forward while Roger took the helm.  After untangling the sheets, we took a beam reach out into the Sound with the genoa while I brought the furler line forward and began reloading the furler drum manually - pulling through one turn at a time, as I straddled the bow in the pounding waves. After a couple of false starts (feeding the line in the wrong direction), we got enough line on to be able to get several turns on the sail with the furling line.  From that point, we were able to furl the sail manually, automatically feeding the line onto the furler drum.  

With the foresail secured, we cranked up the engine and began a four hour trip back to Sea Harbour under power, with the wind on our nose. 

When we passed the shoal near Broad Creek, we saw TowBoatUS pulling the sailboat off the shoal.  They had spent the entire night aground in the wind.  Our problem had been minor by comparison.

As we got closer to home, squall lines with lightning began marching down the Oriental side of the river. Luckily, they only extended about a mile or so into the river so we chose to head out and let them pass before heading in.

No sooner had we entered the channel for Pierce Creek than the engine began to sputter.  It coughed and sputtered all the way to the end of A dock then died at the point where I usually drop the engine into neutral and coast into my slip.  No harm - no foul.  It cranked back up to allow me to reverse the engine at the dock.  Home safe and sound.   I'll deal with the dirty fuel issue tomorrow.

Changed the fuel filter and spark plugs the following morning.  The engine running fine.