THE BROTHERS JORDAN

THE BROTHERS JORDAN It’s early morning. Our boat is charging through the Atlantic waves, sails trimmed to perfection. We’re making good time, averaging 8 to 9 knots. The journey from St. Augustine to New York seems to be successfully underway. Then I look aft. A man is holding the carcass of a tuna in his hands, munching along it’s backbone as though it were an ear of corn. He lifts his head and smiles at me as blood trickles down his chin. OMG, I wonder as I look on in horror. What is in store for us for the next nine days at sea with the Brothers Jordan? Jim is amused by my reaction, and enjoys informing me that Brother Bill also likes to eat eyes, hearts, and various other organs. I gasp and go down below to gag in private. Using perch eyes as bait when you run out of minnows is one thing, but eating fish eyeballs crosses some sort of line, doesn’t it? I need to focus on the bright side. We have two able bodied, experienced sailors to crew with us to New York. We have a freshly caught tuna. Might as well move beyond the blood and guts and start cooking. We dined on Tuna Eggs Benedict, Tuna Ceviche, Sesame Seared Tuna, and Tuna Mediterranean Style. As the winds increased to 30 knot gusts and the waves built to 10 to 15 feet, the brothers pulled in and filleted three more nice tuna. The aft deck was a blood bath, the guys looked like deranged murderers splattered with tuna DNA, and their grins were from ear to ear. Captain Gary needed a power nap late that afternoon, so Jim took over the helm. He opted to hand steer, as the autopilot could not react to the huge swells. I wasn’t reacting all that well to them either. I purposely avoided looking out the ports while I remained down below trying to read. Jim and Bill thought they could tease me into a better mood, until I shouted up through the companionway to Jim “STOP TALKING TO ME! FOCUS ON STEERING!” They actually seemed to be enjoying themselves in these conditions. That night, about thirty miles out, a cute little bird joined us on board. We marveled at how this teeny little guy we nicknamed Woodstock made it out that far. Apparently, he wanted to take a nap because he kept fluttering around down below. We tried shooing him away numerous times. Once he even rode back up into the cockpit on Gary’s head. He finally ran out of steam and fell to the deck. Jim tenderly picked him up in a towel and held him until he died. It was sad. A while later, along came another bird. We considered that Woodstock I died due to lack of food and water during his long journey, so we tried to feed Woodstock II some bread soaked in water. He wasn’t interested in anything but flying down below until he calmed down and sat on my hand. I was in an uncomfortable position, so I shifted him to the corner of the cockpit and draped a towel around him. He didn’t make it through the night. The next morning, I was ready for a break from the waves and eager to head into Southport NC. Gary was debating whether to continue on to Beaufort. Bill witnessed our exchange of opinions. (AKA fight) After that, Gary and I were down below trying to nap amidst the chaos of the wave action. One big swell sent our conch shell off the shelf and SMACK into Gary’s forehead, slicing open a gash above his eyebrow. I applied ice, then a bandage. When my patient emerged from our stateroom, Bill acknowledged the bloody band-aid by commenting “So, I guess we’re going to Southport!” Even though the joke was on me, I have to admit that was funny stuff! Especially since we WERE going to Southport. Docking was a challenge in the dark with opposing winds and currents. Tessa, not Captain Gary, decided she would back into the slip next to the fixed dock at The Provision Company. Gary suggested we simply pull her the twenty feet across the well to the floating dock. For at least an hour, all four of us had a line in our hands and pulled with all of our might while Tessa refused to budge. It was like she was saying “I’m tired, I’ve had enough, just leave me be!” Eventually we muscled her over, secured her, and knocked back a cocktail before bed. 30 to 35 knot winds were forecast to blow until Wednesday. We were officially weathered in at Southport. It was a nice opportunity to relax and become more acquainted with Brother Bill after the two challenging days at sea. Chas drove down from Fayetteville to hang out with us Monday and Tuesday, and we used his wheels to provision at Wal-Mart. Monday evening, we went to our favorite Southport restaurant, Mr. P’s. They serve the most wonderful Oysters Rockefeller, and the appetizer special was a delectable soft shell crab. Later that evening I prepared a second round of sesame seared tuna which Chas devoured. During both days, The Brothers Jordan’s assignment was to frequent the Provision Company for food and drink as often as possible. This in exchange for our complimentary dockage. We didn’t have to twist their arms to fulfill these obligations, especially since they enjoyed the antics of the friendly bar staff (especially Sheri and Laurie). Jim didn’t tell us that Bill was a hunter and gatherer along with his strange culinary tastes. Wednesday morning a Round House bucket filled with fresh clams appeared on board. Bill had dug them up during low tide. Jim could hardly wait for us to get underway and start grilling clams on the aft deck. They were fantastic! A good weather window opened Wednesday morning and remained for the rest of the trip from Southport to New York. The guys would have preferred more wind in order to sail instead of motor-sail, but it was just fine with me to calmly make way at six knots. We were cruising along Virginia approaching Maryland just before dawn Thursday when my cold and weary Captain came down below for a nap. I snuggled against him, trying to thaw him out, and he immediately fell sound asleep. Minutes later, through our closed hatch, and over the drone of the Perkins, I ever so faintly heard the now familiar zzzzzzzzzing of the reel. FISH ON! I jumped up onto our bunk, threw the hatch open, and called to the brothers. “Check the rod, I think we have a fish on!” Bill reeled in a big Bluefish while I apologized to Gary for scaring the heck out of him. As the day progressed, the brothers reeled and reeled, and the filet knife was flying. Soon their cooler was filled with eight Blues, both were covered with fish slime, and the two of them (and Tessa) smelled like one big smelly fish. The rod zinged again and I elbowed them out of the way to reel one in myself. Bill was on the aft deck fingering through a pile of fish innards. “Bill” I warned “I swear to God, if you put that in your mouth I will puke on you right now and I am NOT kidding!” He laughed but did resist the temptation. Each afternoon, Jim would pop open a bottle of wine and serenade us with his guitar. We were about as relaxed as we’ve ever been on the mighty Atlantic. The Bluefish tasted wonderful blackened and poached. The conclusion of the ocean voyage was near, and the Statue of Liberty would soon be greeting us in New York. We docked at Liberty Landing Marina Saturday night, and celebrated with “Dark & Stormy” cocktails, Roast Duck, and fine wine. A perfect ending to a very successful journey. The brothers wanted to turn in early in anticipation of a long drive home Sunday, and all four of us looked forward to the first uninterrupted night’s sleep since Southport. Sunday morning, as we waved farewell to The Brothers Jordan, we were hoping that the trip was memorable and gave them an opportunity to do some brotherly male bonding. I think it worked for Jim. For example, one day Bill was face down, sound asleep on his bunk, with his little yellow reading glasses still perched on his nose. I commented to Jim that he looked cute. Jim smiled for a moment, then said tenderly “Hey! Let’s put a couple of dead fish next to him so when he wakes up he’ll be sleepin with the fishes!” You could just feel the love!

Lock 17 of the Erie Canal

Went through Lock 17 in the Erie Canal. Here is a video of the 40.5 foot rise and filling with over 5,000,000 gallons of water. This is the highest rise lock on the Erie Canal.

OBX

At 10:40 am April 29th, we are 15 miles East of the Outer Banks. Winds are calm and we are under iron sail. Should be in NYC by Sunday for the Jordan Boys to return home.

South Port, North Carolina

We be in Southport, North Carolina now Baby. Tessa be bookin'.

Quick Update

After a nice reunion at Vero Beach with our friends Tom and Lynette on Por Fin, we turned in early in preparation of the trip to St. Augustine Tuesday morning. We were warned, yet still unprepared for the what was to come that night. Vero Beach is a wonderful place with one exception. NO-SEEUMS! Other cruisers carry separate, very fine screens specifically to protect from no-seeums at Vero Beach. Last fall, I got about a dozen bites, but we remember now tha we had all the hatches closed due to cold weather. Monday night, it was hot and humid. I had been alternating skin-so-soft and "Off" all day in order to avoid any chance at bites. We had happy hour on Tessa with Por Fin and some new cruisers who have a Gulfstar 44, and as soon as the sun began to set, I locked myself down below. However, we did have hatches open with our normal screens up for air circulation. The biting rat-bastards woke us both in the middle of the night. "GO SPRAY YOURSELF DOWN AND CLIMB BACK UNDER THE SHEETS FAST!" Gary urged. I quickly closed the hatches and doused myself with Cutter 50% Deet. The light in our stateroom revealed hundreds of them covering the headliner. My worst nightmare! I pulled the sheet up over my head and prayed maybe they weren't the no-seeums that I am so allergic to. Maybe they are some other kind of insect. Maybe...... The next morning, the bumps were already forming into blisters. By afternoon, I was covered with countless bites literally from head (scalp) to toe.I dreaded what was in store for me for the next four days. I know the cycle all to well. It takes a half a day before all the the blisters appear. The next forty eight hours are pure hell. They itch horribly and burn and hurt all at the same time, and are especially aggravated by heat or sun. As my body reacts to fight the poisons, I experience alternating chills and feverish symptoms and nausea. I am absolutely miserable. Poor Gary feels my pain yet knows there is nothing he can do to help. I've tried everything that every pharmacist recommends with no relief. I've done research on internet sites, where the best advise is simply to avoid areas where they are. No magic remedies. The first no-seeum attack a few years ago, I sought medical care and was prescribed steroids. We tossed the pills aside after we read the side affects and decided I was better off just suffering through the discomfort. Yesterday afternoon, Gary suggested that fishing might keep my mind off the discomfort. "Big Chuck" had the Hoo Lili lure, the rod Cuzzin Debbie and Mike donated to Tessa had a balleyhoo lure. No hits before dark, but as I reeled in Mike's rod, a big fish hit the balleyhoo, broke the water, did a back flip, and bit off the lower half of the lure.....right below the hook! Gary was right! I didn't itch for the entire sixty seconds it took to miss this fish! Now, we are at a dock in St. Augustine, hatches closed tight and air conditioning running to sooth the burning and itching. The dockmaster confirmed that they do have no-seeums here....but only of the wind stops blowing. I may just have to be content experiencing St. Augustine by reading my Waterway Guide from our bunk. Life is still good, this is just a bump (pardon the pun) in the road.

We're Having Fish Tonight!!!

Ahoy fellow fishermen and women! Yesterday I caught the first deep sea fish to be brought successfully on board and onto the fillet board. Today I prepared a Tahitian style ceviche that we had numerous times on our honeymoon in Tahiti. Raw tuna marinated in lime juice, then mixed with diced tomatoes, cucumbers, onion, covered with coconut milk. Served with crusty french bread for sopping up the sauce. We are definitely livin the dream! At Vero Beach, tomorrow heading north back out on the Atlantic up to Saint Augustine. There we will rent a car and drive back down to West Palm to pick up crew. Better to have Tessa as far north as possible to continue toward NY with crew. Love to all, Lori

Tessa Update from Marathon

We are still in Marathon waiting for these ferocious 25-30 knot winds to subside. As the saying goes "Marathon is a nice place to visit but we wouldn't want to live here!" Tomorrow looks favorable for a first light departure, arriving in Stuart Sunday afternoon if all goes well. Our friend Jage lives there, and she has kindly offered her car to pick up Myassis Dragon and his brother in West Palm on Friday the 23rd. We have even discussed blowing by Stuart if the weather window is comfortable early this coming week and getting as far north as Fernandina Beach, then renting a car and driving down to pick the crew up. The days of favorable conditions, we are learning, are few and far between! We have been following our "new best friends" Jon and Shawna on their beautiful Formosa 50 all the way from the Dry Tortugas. They are our new best friends for a number of reasons. First because they are absolutely wonderful people with very similar tastes in fun, food, and wine. Secondly (but more importantly I'm thinkin to Captain Gary) is the fact that they draw 6 1/2 feet, which is a lovely 6 inches more than we draw!!!! Every time we weigh anchor, we do the polite thing and insist that they go ahead of us. While weathered in, we have made the best of it by eating lots of sushi, stone crab claws, and key lime pie, accompanied by some fine wines and dark chocolates. How good is this??? Our best to everyone following the adventure, Lori & Captain Gary