Destination: West End, Great Bahama Island

I'm typing from the office in Rosslyn, but we are in the process of making some intense plans to 1)fly from Baltimore to Fort Lauderdale tomorrow (Saturday) night, and 2) take advantage of a relatively short weather window to cross the Gulf Stream on Sunday to the Old Bahama Bay marina at West End on GBI. We'll probably stay for a few days to let the norther pass, then make our way (probably) to the Abacos. We are dying to go to Eleuthera, but we probably don't have time this round, as we have to be back in Lauderdale on the 21st of March.
Dawnna and Grant are kindly provisioning for us, so let's hope the window stays open long enough for us to scoot through!

Home Port, and a slide show link

I've put together some of the photos (probably still too many!) into a slide show that you can view at


http://picasaweb.google.com/raconteurcrew/RaconteurSolomonsToHomePort#

We took over 600 pictures over the 25 day trip; the slide show has about 250 of them, mostly captioned, and mostly in chronological order.

We made the 1230 bridge opening at the 17th Street Causeway on Wednesday. It took four attempts to get into the slip here at 777 Bayshore. The current is just wicked. I tried twice, then JP tried, and then I tried once more, this time convincing myself to aim for the slip two slips to the left of ours, and with help from our neighbor in 904, we got in.

It's strange to be back on land; I was quite disoriented for some hours, and then did not sleep especially soundly (I woke up about 2 a.m., just in time for the END of my passage watch). It's better now.

Next up: the Bahamas in early/mid March.

Here's Raconteur, back home.

Fernandina/Amelia and Port Canaveral

Susan has STILL not posted about their wild night from Charleston to Fernandina, but here's the photo that says it all. That flag has survived at least three Chesapeake summers, including a dunking and recovery at Zahnisers, over 400 ICW miles, and the 150+ mile passage from Wrightsville to Charleston. This is what it looked like after the trip to Fernandina.

Susan here. That flag was absolutely rigid and vibrating with a sound like a helicopter approaching. I’m finally posting about the Charleston-to-Fernandina/St. Mary’s passage because I came across a picture of what it felt like, thanks to Japanese artist Hokusai. See that tiny little boat behind the first wave and under the second?

At about 3 am on the 21^st, JP was standing watch and I was the ‘watch below’. I woke up and things seemed pretty active so I went up to see if JP needed help or maybe just company. Above, things had that static yet completely in motion quality of a long reach. We were on a beam reach with a following sea that we occasionally outstripped, resulting in “banging” as we came down off a crest. JP was intentionally spilling wind a bit to minimize that – no problem, as we were still going more than 6 knots. I sat for a while, then went below for a last nap before my 6-12 am watch.

When I came on deck, things had changed. Still a beam reach, still a following sea, but winds were gusting in the high 30’s and the waves were 6-7 feet. The combined effect of a gust and a wave, when they happened together, was some fairly exciting pitching and rolling. JP had furled the jib (even so, we were going over 7 knots) and was waiting for me to arrive to take a reef in the main. I started the engine (bless you, Mr. Engine, Sir!), took her off autopilot and steered her about 110 degrees to starboard to head into the wind. This also headed us directly into the waves. Images of the Gloucester fisherman statue came to mind as I wrestled with the wheel and peered through the spray and darkness at the waves sweeping toward us. JP took the reef, which involves lowering the main by about ¼, then retensioning the sail by winching down on the reef line and up on the main halyard, complicated by the wild flapping of anything the wind can get hold of, and the pitching of the boat through 80-90 degrees with every wave. Next, I steered back to the original course (waves and wind on the starboard stern quarter) and reset the autopilot. It was getting lighter at this point and the gusts seemed to be lessening a bit, so JP headed below, leaving me on watch.

As the day dawned, conditions at first seemed to be getting better, then not. Gusts gradually increased to 50+ knots, and the waves were running 7-9 feet. All around were huge green waves with white crests. On the wave slopes, the wind created a network of foam “veins” across the entire surface. Beyond the waves, there was just grayness. One rogue wave somehow penetrated the companionway and sent a few gallons of water into the cabin. Several drenched the cockpit (and me). I hung on and focused on depowering the main slightly with the traveler when gusts hit. JP to the rescue! After less than an hour off, he returned, we repeated the reefing drill, reducing the sail area by another 1/3 or so, and ran that way for another 3 hours at 8+ knots. Our course was determined by the wind/wave direction – luckily it did not send us toward Africa. At about 10 am, I said to JP, “Well, I WAS complaining about not getting a shower before we left.” Within about 45 seconds, another rogue wave flooded the cockpit and, just for fun, somehow went directly down inside the collars of both of our jackets (and continued downward….). This completely new trick was Father Neptune’s last punch, though. About 15 minutes later, JP said hesitantly, “Do you think it’s a little better?”. I nodded silently with fingers crossed. We now understand why sailors are superstitious. Around 11 am, JP finally went below again and I finished out my watch. Looking at the chart, I realized we were only a couple of hours out from St. Mary’s Entrance. That’s one way to make a swift passage. [Susan out.]

With that night behind us, we decided to stay several miles north of the Fernandina inlet, at Amelia Island Yacht Basin. It's located behind one very scary looking tiny channel off the ICW but we found enough water to get in and made sure we went out on a slightly higher than mid tide to be safe. Nice quiet place; it's a little far from the downtown so the first night we walked (crossing A1A - almost as dangerous as sailing outside in 40-50 knot winds) to a nearby restaurant, but on day 2 we took a very friendly cab ride to downtown, window shopped, found another great wine bar / wine store, as we had in Beaufort NC, and then had dinner at a place called 29 South which was excellent - and quite full. We went early, without a reservation, because we were leaving in the morning for the passage to Port Canaveral, the longest of the four passages at 169 nauticals.

The exit from Fernandina was a nasty one - tide and wind in opposition to one another, trying very hard to slam Raconteur into every wave - but once outside, we had a great run. We didn't turn the motor on until after 4 a.m. on Monday morning, when the wind had dropped below 10 kts (no, she does not like light airs). We were at Cape Marina in Port Canaveral before noon, our earliest arrival. We took on fuel and then docked at a lovely T dock, and spent a lazy afternoon exploring the "back alleys" of the port, but finding a brand new restaurant, Milligan's Reef, where I took this picture of a relaxed Captain JP.


We're now en route to home port. We left Canaveral around 830 this morning, so expect to be {yes, I'm knocking on all the teak in sight} in Lauderdale before nightfall tomorrow, the day before Thanksgiving. I'll post when we arrive, and I'm working on a slide show of the trip.

Charleston with Friends, and on south

We arrived in Charleston after a full 30+ hours outside from Wrightsville Beach. We just made it into the slip during the last light after sundown. We pretty much crashed that night, but the next morning we called our friend Steve (he was my boss, and later JP's) and his wife Barbara, who now live in Mt Pleasant just on the other side of the gorgeous new bridge (photos to come). As it happens, we could not get a slip at the Charleston City Marina, but Charleston Harbor Resort and Marina (on the Mt Pleasant side) had room for us. Steve and Barbara have a group of regulars from their neighborhood who get together at a delightful 'dive' called Dunleavy's on Sullivan's Island, and they invited us to join. Sage - the sign above was over the door there, and we took the picture just for you. We had a great time, listening to bluegrass/country music, eating pub food, and getting caught up with Steve and Barbara. The next day, Steve came out and took JP for a haircut (no, the beard is still there) and Susan to the Whole Foods - a luxury service for scruffy sailors. We had dinner at their place (thank you , Barbara - and another piece of that fabulous cake gave me courage to go out for my 10pm to 2am watch.
We set off from Charleston yesterday (Thursday) morning, with the hope that we could reach the St Mary's/Fernandina Beach inlet, and thanks to a wild blow as a front moved through last night (after my watch - JP and then Susan had to contend with steady 40 knot winds, with gusts over 50, and seas that caused everyone and everything to be drenched), we did indeed pull into a slip at Amelia Island Yacht Basin at 3 this afternoon. Florida at last!

Random photos, 1

LEFT: Raconteur at Sea Path Marina, Wrightsville Beach.

BELOW: the things you see in the ICW: a fake palm tree, while awaiting one of the bridge openings in high winds with many other ships lurking.




























ABOVE, Left: Yes, this is a life-size giraffe on the lawn of a gorgeous ICW house.
ABOVE, Right: Sunset on passage

LEFT: Pooh and Susan setting off from Wrightsville.

and jumping back in

The two best moments on a passage? Setting off (see Wrightsville inlet sea buoy, on the right) and arriving in the next port (see Charleston inlet buoy, on the left). The forecast said NORTH west winds...more like WEST Northwest, at best. The forecast said seas 2-3 feet...more like 4-6! Nevertheless, we did pretty well, Raconteur was a champ, and we arrived in Charleston after about 30 hours.
We'll do the same again starting tomorrow morning, aiming for Fernandina (again, this time perhaps with a more realistic timetable given the amount of WEST in the NW!). The ICW from here has some pretty significant shoaling in a number of spots, and the captain says we've had our share of groundings already (I win with two; JP one, Susan one, both on softer ground). We'll finish the trip with a series of passages, if the weather cooperates. I'm not making any more timing predictions, however, and since we still think Raconteur is a PLEASURE craft (or so says JP, anyway) we'll be trying to limit the passage length to around 30 or so hours.
I'll post some more pictures in a separate post.

Jumping-off place!

Susan here. JP and I took a few of these bird-and-sunrise photos this morning while we were readying the lines for departure - JP actually took this one - so Leigh decided it was time for my first blog posting.

We don't have a photo, so you will have to picture the next scene for yourselves: Raconteur tied up port side to a dock, 25-30 kts of wind blowing directly from the port side, rain beginning, various valuable boats lined up about a boat length away to starboard, the entrance of the marina directly to stern with 2 large 'shrimpers' protruding from one side and shoals from the other, Stooges standing around in 'foulies' (rainpants and jackets, JP bright red, Leigh bright yellow, Susan blue and gray). After a debate about ALL the possible alternatives (including waiting until tomorrow), we decided to go for it. Susan and JP walked the boat from cleat to cleat (between gusts) backwards down the dock, around the end and got the bow pointed in the general direction of the exit, jumped on, released the lines, and Leigh blasted out, expertly threading between the shrimpers and the shoals. Just another boring old start to a day on the ICW.

No fog today, just high winds on the nose, and the same elusive ICW channel. JP and Susan both recorded groundings today, luckily just 'touches' in soft bottom. We also got some practice in 'creative waiting' at 2 of 3 drawbridges: the first one we just made (the bridge tender waited for us), the second one could not open for an hour because of the high winds, and we arrived either 10 minutes late or 50 minutes early for the third one (depending on your point of view). On the bright side, it was warm (about 70 F), the grasses along the ICW were beautiful (we are now shoreline connoisseurs), and dolphins visited us. We tied up at Seapath Yacht Club in Wrightsville Beach at about 3:15. The wind, still with us, added a big push to the docking process (I think we bounced at least once - on fenders, of course) and is STILL pressing us against the dock 6 hours later.

The forecast still looks good for a weather window after midnight, so we plan to exit the Masonboro inlet tomorrow morning. It's just under 300 nauticals to the sea buoy at Fernandina Beach (our tentative destination), around 60 hours at 5 kts avg, so we'd be looking to arrive in port early Wednesday morning. Of course, there are lots of variables... We're excited about the offshore experience. Especially Leigh and I are wondering how well we will deal with the 24 hour watch-on-watch situation out of sight of land and the extreme conditions of wind and wave out there. Keep thoughts about fair northerly winds and low wave heights coming our way!

As a sign-off, here's a photo of the Surf City Swing Bridge (almost as cool as its name...) closing behind us today.