THE LAST STRAW!

It is not bad enough that we are stuck on the Erie Canal indefinitely. We check the NY Canal website every hour or so, begging for an update. We worry about our job slots back in Port Clinton and Put-in-Bay. We miss home and want so bad to get there. We couldn't be more frustrated.

Today was the last straw. To our dismay, we discovered that our favorite Sylvan Beach happy hour bars are CLOSED ON MONDAYS!!!!!!!!! Don't they know we are hanging by a thread here? Since last Wednesday, we have relied steadily on the comfort of warm hospitality and cheap beers to keep a positive outlook. To just pull the happy hour rug out from under us is devastating. We had to eat ice cream today instead of wings and beers. How much worse could it get?

We love the people of Sylvan Beach. Everyone has welcomed the stranded boaters and sympathized with us. We love Chuck and Donna, the great folks we met in 2009 on our way through. People we have met honk horns and wave as they drive past. Our fishing buddy Rodney gave us two precious fresh caught Walleye for dinner Saturday night. He even filleted them for me! If we have to be stuck anywhere, this is about as good as it gets.

But we are so very anxious to move on and complete the western half of the canal, cross Lake Erie, and grab H ball at the bay. Rain is in the forecast for the next ten day period. The water levels need to stabalize so that the locks can operate. And so we wait........

The best laid plans……

I love it when a plan comes together! 37 days and 1500 nautical miles after we departed Fort Myers Beach, having dodged all the weather bullets Mother Nature shot at us, we arrived at Castleton-on-the-Hudson May 4th, exactly as planned. This would give us enough time to unstep the masts and enter the Erie Canal to rendezvous with Kevin and Carol on Saturday. Eight days after that, we would conclude our journey at Put-in-Bay, in time for Captain Gary to report to West Marine for duty on May 15.
Thanks to the competent help of fellow boaters, the masts came down in record time. In less than a day, everything was secured in place and we were ready to go!

Except Mother Nature saved her biggest insurmountable bullet for us. The Erie Canal did not open May 1st as planned due to flooding and high waters.

OK, let’s stay positive and hope for the best. Perhaps it will only be delayed a few days and we can still continue according to plan.

The long awaited update from the NY Canal System dashed all hopes. The earliest

expected opening is May 23rd. We gathered with other stranded boaters at the Castleton

Boat Club to vent our frustration and drown our sorrows in draft beer. Two wasted

weeks at best!

As Gary reached for his pile of crossword puzzles, I cautioned him. “Don’t get too comfortable there, Captain. I have a plan to get plenty of productive things accomplished.”

A few phone calls later, we were scheduled to have Tessa hauled out Monday morning at nearby Coeyman’s Marina. Here we can complete all of the regular spring maintenance that we usually do after arriving back at Brands’ Marina in Port Clinton.

After my boyfriend Don from Castleton Boat Club ran us all over town provisioning, we were ready to head for Coeymans Marina Sunday night. Gary promised me a Step-

Mothers Day martini at the adjacent restaurant. While enjoying a cold crisp Bombay

martini with blue cheese stuffed olives, we began chatting with the other local bar
patrons. One particularly friendly and charming guy named Eric entertained us while waiting for his friend from Ohio to show up. Maybe we might know him, being from Ohio ourselves, he suggested. Ohio isn’t that big of a state, right?

So here we sit, hundreds of miles away from home in Update New York, and Eric’s
friend turns out to be a fellow West Carrollton High School graduate. Eric’s jaw dropped
to the floor when I said “Hello Tom Barker. I know you!” We took a trip down high

school memory lane until Captain and I decided it was time to get some shut eye.

The haul out went according to plan on Monday morning, then we went to work

preparing the hull for bottom paint. Yesterday, Gary completed that task, and today I

begin cleaning the hull before we begin to wax on wax off. We hope to have everything

done by Saturday so that we can launch Tessa just in case the canal situation improves

and opens earlier than anticipated.

That is the plan for now!

Stuck in ol’ Beach Haven AGAIN!

After being weathered in for five days, for a healthy dose of optimism, mix three fingers

of gin and a dash of olive juice. Pour over ice and shake until bruised and icy cold.

Serve up with three anchovy stuffed olives. Toast to calm seas and light breezes.

It worked! This morning, we opened our eyes at dawn and lay in our bunk listening for

the howling winds that had hammered us for five straight days and nights. Other than the

calls of the gulls, it was totally quiet. Hurraaaay!

We are finally on the home stretch to New York and the Statue of Liberty!

It seems like much longer than a week ago that we dined on Crabby Eggs Benedict for

Easter breakfast, steamed crabs for lunch, and scallops for dinner while docked in

Hampton Virginia. Although the overnighter from there Monday was very bumpy, it was
uneventful. With the dawn Tuesday morning came a blanket of thick fog. The sun and

stiff winds were not even successful in burning it off, so by late afternoon we were

contemplating where to duck into for a well deserved break. Captain Gary determined
that we were within striking distance of Beach Haven New Jersey, one of our favorite
places along the east coast.

Gary hailed TowBoat U.S. for some moral support, and within seconds our buddy Captain Rick responded. Rick earned hero status in 2008 when he guided our battered and weary crew in off the Atlantic after a fourteen hour storm, and he came through for us once again. As tsunami looking waves roared over the shoal to port and starboard, Rick

talked us through the Little Egg Inlet. The fog decided to envelope us completely as we made the turn toward the skinny channel leading to Beach Haven Yacht Club, and the reds and greens disappeared from sight. Gary pointed Tessa ever so slowly in each direction while I desperately searched for the markers through the thick milky fog. We

bumped across the bottom every way we turned. Where did the channel go? We could

almost hear Rick muttering under his breath “Damn Sailors!” as he announced over the

VHF that he was coming to get us. We tucked our tail between our legs and timidly
followed TowBoat U.S. into the dock, fully expecting to be harassed relentlessly by

Captain Rick. He actually went pretty easy on us, although he would have preferred

Tessa had gone hard aground out there since he makes more money on the “grounders.”

Beach Haven is the perfect place to be weathered in. We had warm reunions with dock master Ernie and my girlfriend Sailboat Linda. We drank happy hour beers with our friends at Tuckers, and enjoyed the famous $2.22 breakfast at Uncle Wills. We walked the beach and  ate clam chowder. We listened to NOAA predict 5 to 10s, then sat in the

cockpit and watched the anemometer register 25 knots, 28 knots, 30 knots, while Rick giggled merrily in anticipation of grounders and stranded vessels.

Tonight’s destination is an anchorage at Sandy Hook. Tomorrow, hopefully we will be

waving to Lady Liberty for the fourth time. Then we’re off to the Hudson River for a two

day trip toward Castleton, where we will unstep the masts in preparation for the Erie

Canal trip.

It seems like much more than thirty days ago that we left Fort Myers, and it seems like FOREVER since I saw my last palm tree. But we have much to look forward to in the days ahead on the Erie Canal. And then that most welcome sight of Perry’s Monument coming into view across Lake Erie. Home sweet home!

"We're having fish tonight!"

Revisiting the Intracoastal is just one big trip down memory lane.

The bridges in Florida. (We go through 32 bridges today? Seriously?) The shallow

water. (It’s not a question as to whether we are aground. Are we aground at high tide or

low tide?) The fishermen in the Carolinas. ( Could you possibly block the center of the

channel any more, guys?) The rusty “mustache” on our bow. (Will I ever get that off?)

The Albemarle Sound. ( Do we REALLY have to do that again?)

The memories that really count are of the unforgettable people that you meet along the
way.

Tessa and crew have been stuck in the Intracoastal since Beaufort North Carolina, as the

winds and waves around Cape Hatteras are strong and dangerous. So we began looking

forward to docking at R.E. Mayo’s commercial fishing dock on Goose Creek once again.

In 2008, we had the pleasure of meeting the honorable Mr. Roy Watson, who was 93 at

the time. He held court around their wood burning stove, telling stories while we warmed

up. We were captivated by his personality, charm, and kindness and hoped to enjoy his

company again this trip.

Thursday evening we docked just before sundown and enjoyed chicken tacos aboard and

a movie. Yesterday morning we hurried into the store office to check in and see Mr. Roy

again. His rocking chair was occupied by a younger man, who said that Roy had sold out.

“Passed on” is what immediately crose our minds. It was a relief to learn that the current

occupant of the chair, Mike Potter, was the new owner’s son. Roy was alive and well,

and had recently sold the business to Carol and Birdie Potter.

We each grabbed a rocking chair to enjoy their Southern hospitality and get acquainted

with Captain Mike. This day was no run of the mill Friday. He had just docked an hour

before from a 17 day scallop fishing expedition out on the Atlantic. He, his crew, and the

Potter family were in a celebratory mood, as the Jane Carolyn was loaded with her limit

of scallops. 18,000 pounds! They also brought in lots of flounder, including a big

whopping 15 pounder.

“Can we buy some?” I pleaded, salivating. “Not to be greedy, but would you happen to

have some fresh crabs so I can whip up some crabmeat stuffing for the flounder?”

He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a zip lock bag of last night’s leftover

fried scallops and flounder. I am sure he expected us to heat them up for lunch or dinner,

but we devoured the entire bag right then and there, at 8:30 a.m., while we continued to

chat.

We overheard Mike call one of the guys over and ask about crabs, but I was surprised
when he whispered a little later that “your crabs are on your boat.” Sure enough, crabs

were on our boat. Not just a couple of crabs. A full LAUNDRY BASKET of them!

Could any one be more hospitable and generous? Well, Mike was only getting warmed

up! After he came on board to tour Tessa, we swapped some more stories and relaxed for

a few minutes until it was time to unload the bootie, which Mike invited us to watch. It is

a fascinating, fast, and furious process, which takes an astonishing two hours to

accomplish. After the scallops are shucked in the “house of pain” where carpal tunnel syndrome flourishes, they go into 50 pound bags which are tossed down a ramp, then

loaded into a big cardboard tower. All the while, workers are fork lifting ice into large

containers to be shoveled on top of the scallops before sealing each tower up. From there

they go to seafood distributors in New Bedford, then to retail stores, then to customers,

then to the frying pan.

Mike gave us a tour of the Jane Carolyn, then took us on a land tour of the local area, all

the while sharing interesting local lore. We were having a fantastic time, and wished we

could spend the entire day. Due to a tight schedule to get to New York we really could

not afford to delay departure. But not before Mike did one final favor! He demonstrated

how to properly fillet and scale a flounder.

All the way to the anchorage last night, and then while we savored fresh crab stuffed

flounder, we marveled at our good fortune. We could have been grieving over spending a

thousand dollars in Beaufort on a fuel injection pump, but already that pain has begun to

subside. We could be frustrated about being forced to do the Intracoastal with all of it’s

challenges, delays, and financial strains. We could be obsessing over going outside in the

North Atlantic overnight to New York. (OK, one of us is, but that’s beside the point.)

The point is, we are living a life that most only dream about, and we have the opportunity

to get to know some absolutely wonderful, unforgettable people. People who, after only

spending days….or even hours with, we are honored to call our friends.

Monday April 18

We are outside (on the Atlantic vs the Intracoastal) en route to Beaufort North Carolina. The seas are calm with no wind to sail at this point. It is predicted to pick up to 15 knots this afternoon from the south, which will be a welcome change from what we experienced after St. Augustine.
Chas arrived safely last Wednesday, and we had another unexpected guest for dinner that night. Jim Jordan (Myassis Dragon) was in Jacksonville on business and took the time to drive to St. Augustine to party with us for a few hours. We had a great time catching up.

Chas enjoying my now famous lettuce wedge

Thursday morning we departed St. Augustine and enjoyed a full day of calm seas and light winds. We alternated sailing and motor sailing, but at least the sails were up! Chas started his watch at 2:00 a.m. Friday morning with comfortable conditions, but around 5:00 a.m., the wind began blowing directly on our nose, from the north, at a steady 15-20 knots. And it continued to blow all day long, burying Tessa's bow and throwing walls of saltwater against our "picture window" and clear down the decks. The strength of the water forced it's way into any crack, crevise, or weak point and leaks sprung up everywhere down below. The crew decided to duck in at Charleston instead of our original destination of Southport, which would have entailed a second overnighter. We had had enough abuse!

OMG, did we make a good call! Saturday, violent storms and winds buffetted Charleston, as well as much of the Midsouth and Mideast. 25-30 knot winds sent waves surging across the bay, crashing broadside to all the boats tied up along the MegaDock at Charleston City Marina. We put out extra bumpers and then ran down the dock assisting others and loaning out spare bumpers. Once it appeared as though Tessa was protected, we left the marina to meet up with Chas' girlfriend Kerry and friend Wac to visit West Marine (of course) and downtown Charleston.

Our party was interrupted by a call from the marina, saying that several boats were sustaining damage and that we should return as soon as possible.

The first thing I saw as I scurried down the dock was splinters of dock wood. Our mega-fender had split right down the middle, and another bumper line had worn through so that the bumper was uselessly floating under the dock. Tessa's rub rail had ground against the dock until dock neighbors and marina dockhands managed to replace the bumpers. She will need some repairs, but she'll be fine!

As quickly and fiercly the storm came upon us, it left us with totally calm conditions for a Sunday morning departure. Calm, but unfortunately no wind for sailing. So we have been running the faithful Perkins for over 24 hours. We are hoping for the wind to pick up and maybe just maybe come from a favorable direction for a change. Looking forward to a stop in Beaufort before sunset tonight if all goes as planned.

sleeping after a long hard shift

Tomorrow we will lose our crew/entertainment, Chas, as his leave is up. I hope the positives of this journey outweigh the negatives so that he will join us again. Even though we discovered his entire bunk and duffel bag (and all his clothes) filled with saltwater Friday night, his phone and wallet did dry out, so maybe he won't hold that against Mother Ocean for too long!

WE’RE ON VACATION!

Since our arrival in St. Augustine last Saturday afternoon, it has felt like we are on

vacation. After the hectic winter living and working in Fort Myers, it is really fun to be a

tourist for a change.

We have been sleeping in. We’ve been exploring historic St. Augustine. Instead of hot

dogs, we drank Sangria for lunch yesterday. We have met many interesting people at the

local happy hours and sampled the regional cuisine (including our first deep fried

cheeseburger) instead of cooking on board. We have actually sat in the cockpit and done

absolutely nothing but enjoy the surroundings. We are soaking up all the relaxation we

can, knowing that once Chas arrives tomorrow, it is full speed ahead north on the

Atlantic. During that leg of the trip it is all work and no play.

The trip from Miami to St. Augustine was the usual combination of good and bad

conditions. The bright Miami skies and comfortable waves turned into overcast skies and

bumpy waves, so Captain Gary decided to enter the Intracoastal at Port Everglades.

I loved this part of the trip, marveling at the mega yachts and mega mansions. Gary, not

so much. He got to watch the depths go from almost-deep-enough to not-quite-deepenough

for our six foot draft, while dodging boat traffic and anticipating bridge openings.

All 33 of them from Ft. Lauderdale to Fort Pierce!!! Some of the bridge operators are

friendly and competent. Some seem to enjoy the power and control they have over

boaters and exercise it to the limit.

We spent the first Intracoastal evening anchored in Boca Raton Lake, which is really

nothing more than a shallow (yes, we went aground) wide area beside the channel with

room for a few boats.

Next morning, we were up at dawn heading toward Stuart to anchor near our friend

Jage’s marina. She warned that the St. Lucie Inlet and River were shallow, but friends

just did it with only a few bumps on the bottom. Gary slowly made the turn off the

intracoastal toward the river and BUMP BUMP BUMP, aground again. He worked us

off the bottom and headed back up the Intracoastal toward another anchorage option

where the chart showed 8 feet. And right at that spot, we went aground yet again.

“I LOVE THE INTRACOASTAL” he growled over and over again.

Eventually, we dropped the anchor just off the channel, far enough to be out of

everyone’s way, but certainly not in an anchorage where the other shallower draft boats

were congregated. Good enough!

The next morning we hightailed it to the Fort Pierce Inlet and waved bye-bye to the

Intracoastal and hello to the Atlantic, where Captain sighed with happiness as the depth

sounder read over 100 feet.

I, too, appreciate the depth but it usually comes with a price. Like big winds and waves.

This overnight voyage to St. Augustine was a pleasant surprise. We got the best of both

worlds. Deep water and calm, calm, calm.

It was so calm I could move around down below without holding on to anything.

It was so calm that boiling water was not life threatening.

It was so calm, a glass of chocolate milk waited patiently on the counter instead of
toppling over the moment I removed my grip to close the fridge.
It was so calm, I was comfortable enough on deck to bring out the fishing poles.
It was so calm, I allowed Gary to wander around on deck checking rigging and cleaning
stainless.

It was so calm that we could rest comfortably in the cockpit all through the night enjoying
the ocean instead of tolerating it.
It was so calm that…OK! OK! we had to run the Perkins the entire way instead of sailing.
I may lose every sailor’s respect by saying this but I LOVED IT!!!!!!!!!

Once the sun came up Saturday morning, we saw all kinds of activity. Dolphins, Manta
Rays, Turtles, Manatees, everyone was feeding and frolicking in the tranquil turquoise
sea. It was a fantastic ending to a lovely trip.

Now, we prepare for the next leg of our journey toward Southport or Beaufort North

Carolina, depending on weather conditions. My part of the preparation is to provision, as

we have depleted our supply of food. We blew through the fresh fruits and produce, the
Caesar salads and lettuce wedges with blue cheese and bacon bits. The lamb chops, roast

duckling, grilled pork tenderloin, mahi mahi, alligator tail, rib eye steaks, and angel hair

with clam sauce were all superb.

Since we have no transportation, I plan to walk over to 7-Eleven and stock up on hot

dogs, pork rinds, a few cans of SpaghettiOs, and beef jerky for Chas’ leg of the trip. I am

sure he’ll understand.

Heading Home!

As we were sailing from Rodrigez Key toward Key Biscayne yesterday, the lyrics from Jimmy Buffet's song kept running through our minds. "It was a beautiful day, the kind you want to toast!" Yesterday was, in fact, one of our best sailing days ever, a cruiser's idea of perfection.

Bright blue sunny skies. CHECK!

Favorable warm winds coming from the right direction. CHECK!

Breathtaking turquoise water. CHECK!

Tessa charging along at six and seven knots. CHECK!

Back on ball 12 looking at the stunning Miami skyline last night. CHECK!

We had large doses of all that we love about the keys and Miami, and a small dose of what we remembered we did not love so much. It felt as though we had earned this beautiful day after the rough start of our journey home!

We debated about departing Fort Myers last Tuesday, as the winds were predicted to be on our nose and building late the following day. If we waited for a better weather window, it wouldn't open for four more days. Tuesday was picture perfect calm, we had already said our goodbyes, so Tessa and her crew agreed that it was time to go, even though we would need to travel overnight to complete the18 hour trip to Marathon and Bahia Honda.

Tessa slid past Marco Island's beautiful lights shortly after sunset, and we enjoyed a nice comfortable ride until midnight, when the winds picked up...NOT PREDICTED...and beat the crap out of us for the next sixteen hours. Nothing scary but just pain-in-the-butt uncomfortable. I slept a bit off and on, Gary napped for 1/2 hour during the twenty seven hour cruise. He claimed that Tessa wouldn't let him sleep, as he was jarred awake with each pounding wave.

It felt great to drop anchor Wednesday evening in one of our favorite spots, Bahia Honda. As luck would have it, Cuzzin Debbie and Mike were vacationing just south of us, and Cuzzin Pammy and family were vacationing just north of us at Duck Key. We certainly couldn't have planned this reunion, but happily it worked out just perfect! Thursday we celebrated a wonderful day on Tessa, kids swimming, adults imbibing, everyone laughing and relishing this unexpected time together. We truly missed Mike, who was with his ailing father, but his buddy Bobby Sutter filled in with some comic relief.

Friday morning we weighed anchor and headed to Rodrigez Key, where we planned to spend the night. Once again, the winds and waves were about opposite of what was predicted, and we bounced our way north east with head sail snapping and rigging clanging, as Tessa tried to deal with shifting winds from every direction except the one we wanted. Thankfully, Friday evening was calm and peaceful and we got a good nights rest.

Saturday dawned sunny and beautiful, with the perfect wind direction. The day could not have been more perfect. We were so excited to get back to Key Biscayne, even more so when Rickenbacker Marina invited us back to ball 12, where we spent the winter of 2009.

And then we entered Government Cut, and remembered what we DID NOT like about Miami. Every go-fast boat sped by at full throttle, throwing a wake that no one would consider doing in normal boating communities. They came at us from all directions, passing, crossing, full speed ahead, Latino music blaring, bikinis dancing, and Captain Gary cursed all the way to ball 12. After the peacful tranquility of the keys, this was GO-FAST overload.

But he navigated us safely and happily to ball 12 and here we will stay until the weather window opens for another Atlantic journey. It is a wonderful place with wonderful friends and I wouldn't mind if we were weathered in for weeks....but home calls and soon we will head north.