Recaps, Reflections, and Ruminations

Just some random thoughts as we look back at our 2020 cruise

Cruising

In our wanderings on the Chesapeake Bay, we made 15 overnight stops in 13 locations, some for one night, some for 30 days.  We covered roughly 600 statute miles underway.  We accumulated about 70 engine hours and 25 generator hours.  Average fuel consumption was 1 mpg. We're looking forward to being more direction- and destination-focused next year as we begin the Loop in earnest.  (And perhaps learning to manage our speed=fuel consumption balance a bit better, 

People

Having a canine Admiral/Ambassador and a Spokane, WA hailing port proved two wonderful conversation starters.  We met people with so many different backgrounds and stories its difficult to categorize them all.   Lookieloos and wannabees, Loopers, retired Navy and merchant mariners, local weekenders, life-long sailors,  long term liveaboards, world travelers diverted to the Chesapeak by COVID, first-time boaters, experienced dive and delivery captains.  Some we saw every day for a month. Others we chatted with for 10 minutes on a dock.  To a person, they were willing to catch a line, loan a tool, offer advice, give a ride, take a walk, suggest a stop, and share a beer.  With all the division and derision in our country today, its good to be reminded that most folks everywhere are just folks.

Fuel Prices

It was interesting to see the wide variance in fuel prices, sometimes within a few miles of each other. Our careful purchases ranged from $1.70 to $2.45 per gallon.  The spread we observed was from $1.70 to $3.36.   There seem to be two schools of thought on this.  

• One view assumes that the higher-priced fuel is somehow "better".  Maybe it comes from a more reputable supplier? Or perhaps it has additional additives or is prefiltered for water or other contaminants? Beats me......
• We subscribe to an alternate view that the cheaper fuel is preferable. Not just because it is cheaper, but also because it has likely spent less time in the marina's storage tanks.  A marina with a lower price is apt to sell more fuel.  Time is the enemy of diesel fuel.  Lets undisturbed for long periods, it can begin to break down into tarry particulates or can acquire biological contaminants that can congregate in your fuel filters and injectors. And we can buy our own additives. 

Weather  

We were blessed with extraordinarily nice weather both on the highway and on the water.   (Except for that hurricane and the tornado, of course.)   We were cautious navigators, monitoring weather conditions and forecasts from multiple sources, and also simply looking out the window from time to time (what a concept).  Only once did we venture out and turn back when conditions got too rough.  We did however alter our schedule a few times to avoid negative forecasts.  As fellow Looper Ernie Rivard from Huntsville. AL once told us, "The most dangerous thing on a boat is a schedule."  Words to stay alive by. 

COVID-19

COVID was our constant companion on this journey.  While we safely navigated the pandemic, it intruded on the quality of our journey every day.   In all fairness, most of our snarky comments (except about those Volvo oil filters) should be viewed somewhat in the context of COVID restrictions.  We just hope our country gets things under control (And that Mr. Trump and Monsieur Trudeau settle their differences) by next year.  

Commissioning Costs

It's obvious that we underestimated what we would have to spend to make Irish Lass Loop-ready. (There, I said it.  Happy now, Mike?) The combination of delayed deliveries, unforeseen repairs, and our own naivete taught us that everything takes longer than predicted and costs more than estimated.  And we will expend even more over the winter on some repairs (both planned and otherwise)  and some big-ticket maintenance tasks.   In round numbers, by next Spring, we will have spent an amount exceeding half to the downpayment we made on Irish Lass.  (Your mileage may vary.)   On the other hand, many of these were capital (i.e non-recurring?) expenditures that give us a better-prepared vessel for The Great Loop. 

And, the lessons learned are priceless. We now know more about our vessel than many boaters we encountered.  And we were capable of many fixes ourselves.  For instance, who knew that cleaning and tightening electrical grounds can do wonders for starter performance?   And no, we have still not installed the "priceless" new starter we purchased in July. But we're ready when the time comes.  Live and learn.

EarTec Ultra-Lite Headsets

They don't call then "marriage savers" for nothing.  The. Best. $375. We. Spent. Period. Not only do they allow us to communicate calmly during docking and maneuvering, but they also kept us in touch during maintenance tasks that require one of us below decks and one at the hotel or on the dock.  A word to the wise, however:  Everything you say, mutter, exclaim, pray, profane, or yell at the dog goes into your spouse's ears.  'nough said?

 Driving

 Not counting local errands, we drove 6,300 miles to accomplish this adventure.  We touched 15 states and four time zones.   The vehicles with which we were provided were almost new and were trouble-free. Hernando delivered 21 mpg and Freedom Bird turned in 26.  Not bad considering our load and our driving habits.  Let's just hope Alamo and Budget don't start to footnote their definition "Unlimted Mileage" before our next trip.  Sheesh

Going Dormant

We are settling in for winter ashore and this will be our last post for a while.   But look for more updates after the first of the years when we begin actively planning the next Voyage of the Irish Lass. 

Have a happy and safe winter,

Wade and Kathleen.,

On the Hard, On the Road (cont)

 So, where were we?  

Oh yes, Cleveland.  What is there to say about Cleveland?  How about, "Goodbye."

Heading further west on the Pathway to The World (i.e. I-90), we crossed into Indiana.  Faithful readers of this blog will recall that our last impression of Indiana was not altogether positive.   Nothing has changed, except that encountered their toll system this trip.  We remain unimpressed.

Past Indiana (Whew!), we entered the land of the Illinois highway tolls which were thankfully 100% electronic.  We expect Alamo will catch up with us (or our credit card) for these eventually.  Our day ended back in Geneva, Illinois at the home of Charlie McLaughlan (our Labor Day guest aboard Irish Lass).   Daughter Laren Mc Laughlan recently threw off the corporate yoke and is spinning up her own company to produce food items for those (like her) with significant food allergies and/or intolerances.  Eventually, she will employ both an on-line and trailer-based (i.event) delivery channels.   Meanwhile, the dinner of pesto shrimp and rice pasta she prepared for us was wonderful.  You GO girl!

On Tuesday, we set off on a new route, crossing Iowa instead of the northern I-90 route thru Wisconsin.  On the whole, we liked Iowa.  Picturesque,  Bucolic.  Light traffic. Few speed traps.  No tolls.  What's not to like?  Well, we will tell you.  Iowans need to learn how to speed.  The 4-lane state highway we traveled had a limiting speed limit of 65.  And people drove, well,  65.   What's up with that?  One always wants one or two drivers going slightly faster to serve as "rabbits" to attract any law enforcement attention.  In some 375 miles, we could never locate these decoys.  On I-5, these folks would be a traffic hazard, Running a cautious, watchful 72-ish mph, we were never passed.   I guess we were the "rabbit" that day.  Thanks for nothing.  Sheesh

Fortunately, after a quiet night on the banks of the Big Muddy in Sioux City, we crossed into South Dakota.  Now, these folks understand that the purpose of an Interstate Highway is to effing get somewhere.  Rural limits of 80 and a common cruise of 85. And "rabbits" running 85+.  Yeah, BABY! 

We arrived in Rapid City (428 miles) early enough to make a side trip to see Mt Rushmore.  What a majestic monument. 

No matter how many times you see it, your first words are always, "Oh, Wow!"  Plus we found a steak house that served us what was quite probably the best steak we have ever eaten.  

Thursday morning found us hustling east again, skirting the Black Hills and across a corner of Wyoming, (another state that "gets it") into Montana.   Where the Sky is Big, the mountains are tall and the speeds are high.   We allowed time for a visit to the Custer Battlefield National Monument. 

We have both visited this site over the years, (beginning n 1967 for Kathleen).  And over that span of time, it has been interesting to see how the interpretation of those bloody days of 1876 has shifted.   The view of Custer has evolved from Colorful, Romantic, Tragic Hero to Egotisitcal, Narcissistic, Tactical Idiot.  In the end, all he contributed to military science is this: If you blindly attack a better-armed enemy 5 times your size on ground of their choosing, odds are you are gonna lose.   Sheesh.  

Friday, we departed Bozeman (38 degrees. Brrrr) for our LAST DAY ON THE ROAD!  And no one was more thrilled than Admiral Maggie.   She has been a wonderful traveler, but she seems close to the breaking point.  We fear she may refuse to enter the car again at any moment.  We cleared the Continental Divide and Lookout Pass in record time despite the first rain we had encountered on this drive.  We broke for lunch in Wallace (The Center of the Universe), Idaho, and took on the final 87 miles to....

HOME!

Amen

Thanks for watching!

Wade and Kathleen 

On the Hard And On the Road

 On The Hard.

It took all day on Tuesday and  21 gallons of (non-toxic) antifreeze to winterize Irish Lass's systems.  Commodore Kathleen got her steps (9 miles worth)  in hiking back and forth to West Marine repeatedly for the elusive "last jug". Admiral Maggie hid in the master stateroom.  Wade crawled around below decks draining and flushing engines, generators, AC units, and water heaters.  Not hugely different than what we experienced with our last boat, except for scale.  I mean 21 gallons. Sheesh!

Tuesday night, we moved ashore to a motel.  On Wednesday morning, we arrived back at the marina to find Irish Lass already in the slings of the TravelLift with a long-suffering dockhand power washing her hull.  (Yuck) 

We were pleased to see that her hull had come through of summer cruise in pretty good shape. Over the winter she will be fresh bottom paint, new zincs, and new cutlass bearings,  but little else seems necessary below the waterline.

It was fascinating ( and a bit unnerving) to watch the marina crew drive the TravelLift with a wireless remote control while walking her (yes, really) some 500 yards to her winter parking place in the boatyard.  They then made quick work of lowering her on to keel blocks and bracing her with hull stands.  Easy peasy. Like they do it 12 times a day.  Which actually they do, in order to haul the hundreds of boats that will keep Irish Lass company over the winter. (Sheesh) 

We tidied up her decks and made one last check of ports, doors, thru-hulls, and battery switches and declared ourselves to be full-time land dwellers again. 

Here endeth the cruise.....

All this quick, efficient work left us with a down day on Thursday, which we filled by making the trek to Mt Vernon to tour the plantation home of George Washington.  This is a fascinating place on a beautiful bluff overlooking the Potomac River. 

Owned and operated since 1860 by the Mt Vernon Ladies Association. a group formed to preserve Mt Vernon when men failed to do so.  (Don't get them started. Sheesh!)  Frankly, it is a better experience than many similar sites run by the National Park Circus....er....Service.  And it's largely dog-friendly.  We're sold.

Friday morning, we loaded up Freedom Bird and began our trek back to The World.....

On The Road

Friday's destination was Albany, NY, where we would meet our son Daniel and his fiance' Alexandria.  Traveling north thru Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, and New York was a study in contrast.  Speed limits, fuel costs, road conditions, and COVID restrictions varied tremendously.   It seemed we would just figure out one state's toll system when we would cross a border and have to begin learning all over.  But, by the time we reached Albany, we had invested close to $50 in pay-as-you-go highway taxes.  And, contrary to a Westerner's impression, not ALL of NewJersey serves as the nation's toxic waste dump.

We made a detour to visit West Point, NY, and the United States Military Academy.  Wade's uncle George Hannan was a member of the tragic Class of 1950, which suffered greatly in the Korean War.  We had hoped to see the Cadet Chapel, where he was married shortly after graduation and shortly before deployment.  (He fell while protecting his detachment's withdrawal near Wosan a few months later.) Unfortunately, the campus was closed to visitors due to COVID.  Still, we enjoyed the beauty of the Hudson River Valley and the charming town. 

We shared a delightful weekend with Daniel and Alex in Albany.  They brought us up to date on their wedding plans (May 2021).  We toured the NY capital grounds and visited the first lock on the Erie Canal, which we hope to see again from a water perspective on our Loop next year. 

Sunday morning saw us hustling west on I-90 (our Pathway To The World.).  Upstate New York is downright gorgeous, but we started to get repeated reminders of the approach of winter.  There was a hit of color in the trees, a crisp sense of Fall in the air, not to mention snow plows pre-positioned in parking lots and DOT barns overflowing with future car rust (i.e salt). We ain't in the Tidewater no more.  Sheesh. 

Afternoon saw us barreling thru Ohio, headed on our next overnight in Cleveland.  But that's another story.......

Thanks for watching.....

Wade and Kathleen

Homeward Bound

OK, let's cut to the chase.....

We expect to be back in Spoklahoma by Sept 26th.  Yes, furthering our habit of counter-intuitive choices, we are bidding farewell to Indian (can we still say that?) Summer on the Chesapeake for a 7-day journey back the smoky PNW.    And just in time for winter, too.....  (Looking forward to cooler evenings and < 40% humidity.)  

Irish Lass will spend the winter "on the hard" (i.e. out of the water) at Herrington Harbor North, near Deale, MD.  While there she will receive some repairs, mechanical maintenance, and cosmetic care.  See, boats can live up to their hole-in-the-water financial reputation even when high and dry in a gravel parking lot. (Sheesh)

In preparation, we have been busy winterizing systems and sorting out what to take home and what to leave aboard.  Engine, generator, water tanks and lines, AC units, Washer/Dryer, and heads and holding tanks get serviced and drained or/or flushed with non-toxic antifreeze.  It's like being responsible for a small city.  Sheesh. 

For this journey,  we have once again availed ourselves of one-way car rental.  With a significantly reduced load, this time we have chosen a black Chrysler Voyager minivan from Alamo.  I have been unable to verify how Cortez returned to Spain, so we have dumped the whole conquistador theme and have dubbed her "Freedom Bird".   Because she is taking us back to "The World" after our dream summer afloat.  (You participants in and/or students of the Vietnam conflict will understand that reference.)  Commodore Kathleen hitched a ride to Reagan National Airport in DC to pick her up on Monday.

All that is left now is to watch Irish Lass get hoisted form the dirty brackish waters of Herring Bay and moved to her winter parking spot.  More on that to follow....

Stay tuned

Wade and Kathleen

Annapolis Redux

 We spent the Labor Day weekend back in our old haunt at Annapolis Landing Marina.  This time, the consigned us to a 20' X 60' slip on F Dock.  Easy to back into with some genial neighbors on bigger boats, but exposed to wakes and waves rolling up the creek from Annapolis harbor. The cruise from

Baltimore was uneventful, but Annapolis threw us a heck of the welcome on Thursday evening, with drenching rains, a 30-minute lightning storm, and a tornado warning.  Aw, you shouldn't have....... (Sheesh) 

Not to be denied, Ambassador Maggie made a beeline to B dock, where she was greeted warmly by her old friends from our past visit.  And some of them actually remembered our names, too.  (Sheesh)

The highlight of our weekend was a visit from Kathleen's cousin, Charlie McLaughlan, who arrived

from the Chicago area after delivering his daughter and his pop-up camp trailer to a girlfriend camping trip in West Virginia.   One of his many endearing characteristics is that he stands 6' 6".   He had no issues with headroom anywhere aboard (except for the engine room where everybody has headroom issues).  So there's one less excuse you can use for not visiting us next year.  (So there!)

On Saturday, we took Charlie on a cruise up the Severn River to Round Bay.  Being a holiday weekend with decent weather, the harbor and river were crowded.  in fact, the NW wind and the random chop from boat wakes combined to provide the roughest water we have encountered all summer.  It was pretty sporty at times, but also a testament to the generally wonderful cruising weather we have enjoyed on the Chesapeake.  We recall only two days where we had to alter our plans due to weather. (And one of those was a hurricane,)

On Sunday we visited Dock Street,  the center of "old" Annapolis.  The Naval Academy was closed due to COVID restrictions, but we did peek over the walls in a few places.  There were even midshipmen, resplendent in their "undress whites", visiting with loved ones thru the fence.  enjoyed wandering the old streets lined with wooden and row houses dating from the 18th and 19th centuries.  We visited the grounds of the Maryland capital,  the oldest state house in continuous use in the country.  For a brief

period in 1784-5, it also served as the nation's capital (when the Continental Congress was hiding out from the demands of unpaid Continental soldiers.)   Finished the day will a lovely dinner in the Easton section of Annapolis.   Thanks, Charlie. We will see you in few weeks on our way home.

From here we will make our way south towards our final (😒) destination for the season, Herrington Harbor.   More to follow.....

Thanks for following us.

Wade and Kathleen

Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

(You Gotta Take The Other, Too.  It's A Set.)

 Crab Pot Minefields

The crab fisherman in the Chesapeake seemed to have patterned their distribution of crab pots after the mine plan for Tokyo Bay in 1942.    Any time you are in waters of less than about 25 feet, constant vigilance is required.  Every one of those colorful little floats (and also the old Clorox bottles) is attached to a line leading down to the wire pot.  Hook one with your propeller and you will reel the pot up like Tommy Smothers' yoyo until it crashes into your rudder like a torpedo.   We've learned that our trip routing software plans our courses based on Irish Lass's 4-foot draft and often sends us right thru the minefields.   Solution?  Tell the software you draw 15 feet and it will route you thru (relatively) deeper water. (He He He)

The Ball is in Volvo's Court (So, There!)

Our post "Changes in Lattitudes, Changes in Lubricants" is now in the hands of the Volvo Penta design team.  (Yes, really)  Courtesy of my brother, Jim, who it just so happens sits on Volvo's Board of Directors.  (Yes, really)  Thanks, Jim.   Perhaps together we can improve the breed for future boaters.  Now if we can just get the guys at Cruisers Yachts to may more attention to how they install engines....... (He He He) 

Santa Came Early

Strap wrenches!  Via the sale table at Ace Hardware - Baltimore. 👍 Thanks, Santa. (He He He)  

New Units of Measure

Like any crisis, COVID 19 had driven innovation out of necessity.  The state of Mayland has adopted the Golden Retriever as the unit of measure for social distancing.  👍

But Admiral Maggies says "Just try to get two of them to stand nose-to-nose like this."  (He He He)

Apparently, the same honor has been afforded the blacktip reef shark.  But when they wag their tail, it means something entirely different.......... 

Fixed Docks (Broken Legs)

One challenge we have encountered this summer is the prevalence of fixed docks in marinas. These are the ones that are bolted to the pilings at somebody's idea of the optimal height.   Not like the floating docks we're used to.    Often seen in areas with larger tidal swings. Like 4+ feet.  And offering a HUGE step to get on or off the boat at low tide.  Or, you can just wait 6 hours..... (He He He)

Baltimore

   We enjoyed our extended stay in Baltimore,  despite the city's littering issue.  It's a treat to have floating docks (see above) plus a Safeway, Ace Hardware, West Marine, and Starbucks right across the street from our marina.  A short Uber took us to Little Italy for a delightful (and reasonably priced) dinner.  A slightly longer Uber took us to Fells Point on the Inner Harbor for shopping and a visit to the National Aquarium.  It's nice that not all moorage has to be at the end of a dirt road. 

To their credit, the City has positioned these rather Rube Goldberg-ish devices in the mouth of significant points of urban runoff.  Driven by a water wheel in the runoff current or tide, they attempt to draw trash up a conveyor into an onboard dumpster. Cool, but sad that it's necessary.

Continuous Duty

It is common for diesel engines and electric motors to be assigned a Continuous Duty rating.  This is the output the device can safely provide when operated continuously for long periods.  It's easy to see how that might be useful on extended voyages.  We're not aware of formal Continuous Duty ratings for any of Irish Lass's equipment, but we will award one to the device shown in this picture.  

Powered by shore power, generator, or our inverter, this unit supplied us with a continuous stream of ice from the first day we moved aboard on June 8th.  (Except, of course, when we forgot to refill it with water.)  In our travels, we consumed the equivalent of a bag of ice every few days.  And this wonderful little machine insulated us from bagged ice prices of up to $7 ea.  Clearly worth every penny its $100 +/- price.  And even more valuable to us, because Commadore Kathleen convinced our seller to include it in the deal. For a big fat nuthin'.  Yeah, BABY!

All Things Are Relative, I guess,

The boat we sold to acquire the Irish Lass was a 32' Carver named Emerald Isle (see a trend here?)  In our home water, she was considered a BIG BOAT!  The boat on the left in the photo below is identical to Emerald Isle.  Not so BIG in Baltimore............

Thanks for watching

Wade and Kathleen

Hey, Man! Where you been?

We been CRUISIN', man! 

Its been a while since we've posted any travel info.  But that does NOT mean we've been treading water. 

Our last update found us in Annapolis.   Our four days there were BUSY.

At Annapolis Landing Marina, we FINALLY found some of the social activities we have been

missing.   D Dock brought us into the middle of a wonderful group of liveaboards who were not afraid to stand 6 feet apart on the dock and share an evening cocktail and some conversation.  There was a young couple sharing their 40 ' sailboat with Hunter, a 90 lb, a 9-month old chocolate lab.  Another couple was living aboard a 34 'Mainship while renovating a 40' Bayliner (yes really) for their new residence.  And then there was Isabell, a 4-year-old who lived with her family on a "project" catamaran and who loved to parade down the dock in her princess dress.  We also fired up the outboard and took the dingy up to Spa Bay and the charming original town center of Annapolis, right next to the United States Naval Academy.  Oh yeah, and we changed the oil in the Irish Lass's engines, but that's a whole other story.  (Ahem).    

From Annapolis, we cruised 20 miles south to Herring Bay and the Herrington Harbor (South) Marina.  It is a lovely place, very "resorty", and by far the largest marina we have encountered.  A first-class operation.  (Tell all your friends.) Our real purpose here was to visit Herrington Harbor (North) some 3 miles (you guessed it) north to discuss winter storage for the Irish Lass.  Herrington (south) even assigned us a nice young man with one of their vans to take us there, (as well as to the grocery store.) These folks have "on the hard" storage down to a science and even have several reputable boat repair firms co-located at their yard.  We figure if we are gonna be 3,000 miles away for the winter, this is an area we should override our ( OK, Wade's) inherent cheapness and hire the best to care for Irish Lass.  As we now stand, we are set to the "hauled and blocked" the week of Sept 14.

But, there is still much cruising to be done. So we left Herring Bay headed back across the Chesapeake to the Chester River on the eastern shore.  

Note:  We should pause here to remind all that the terms "river" and "creek" mean something very different here than in the PNW.  Over THAR, a River flows down from the mountains,  babbling and roaring over ripples and rapids, perhaps pausing to generate hydroelectricity before reaching the sea.  And a Creek is really just a small River.  But over YAR, a River is a narrow, extended, sea-level, tidally influenced extension of the Bay pointing inland.  Mostly saltwater, brackish at best.   The closest it comes to a rapid is maybe a boat wake (probably from a SeaRay).  And a Creek is still just a small River.

At the Kent Island Narrows, we had our experience with a bridge that we needed opened for us. We

spent a quiet night at anchor in Grays Inn Creek, surrounded by a veritable fortress of duck blinds. (Those who have read Michener's Chesapeake understand the important role duck hunting plays in Bay history and culture.  Also gave us a chance to practice taking Admiral Maggie to shore in the dinghy.  As we weighed anchor, we discovered that the mud is Grays Inn Creek should be evaluated by NASA for its adhesive qualities.  You could glue together rockets with this stuff.  Yuck!

30 miles up the scenic Chester River brought us to Chestertown, MD.   Founded in 1702, Chestertown boasts a wonderful historic downtown with numerous homes and buildings from the colonial era.  (It seems George Washington slept here a LOT.  Hmmmmm?)   A great

walking town, a farmers market, and the (eerily quiet) campus of Washington College (founded 1792). And the city operates a recently-renovated marina with sparkling facilities and a wicked tidal current.

After a few days at Chestertown, we headed downriver and turned north for Rockhall, MD.  We intended to take advantage of the free municipal dock there for a couple of nights.  Instead, we found the dock monopolized by several smaller boats, all moored precisely 15 feet apart (Grrrrr......) leaving no space for anyone else.  Commodore Kathleen got on the phone and found us a side-tie slip at a nearby marina.  Crappy fixed docks, but a nice pool and BBQ area.  However, their purported "easy" walk to a grocery store proved to be two miles on a highway with no shoulder.  Sheesh.

Several fellow cruisers had recommended we visit the Sassafrass River on the eastern shore, so that is where we headed next.  In our opinion, the beauty of the Chesapeake Bay shoreline improves dramatically as you move north. And the Sassafrass proved to be our northernmost exploration.  A beautiful journey through lush green farmland and lovely vacation homes. 

In the vicinity of Georgetown, MD near the head of the Sassafras there are four substantial marinas. (All of which are patrolled by a large committee of vultures.  Or buzzards. Or whatever.)    

This area was the site of some intense battles during both the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812.  Once again we were seduced by Wade's Scottish heritage and we chose the cheapest moorage, less than half of what we paid in St Michaels.  Woo Hoo!  However, the lesson quickly taught to us once gain was:  You get what you pay for.  Very tired fixed docks, a dock boy who couldn't tie an overhand knot, no store, no BBQs, no courtesy car, it's as primitive as can be, so to speak.  (And who puts their only transient moorage customer in the slip the furthest from the bathroom. Sheesh)

After two nights, we topped up on $1.70 diesel 👍 and moved across the river to a better marina (for more money of course.)  And with their courtesy car, we made the 10-mile journey to set foot in Delaware (and go to the tax-free liquor store, of course.).  

Friday found us again underway for the Patapsco River and Baltimore, across the bay.  Arriving just ahead of the weather hangover from the recent Gulg hurricane, we settled into the Anchorage Marina in Canton.  On Saturday WE HAD ACTUAL GUESTS!  We hosted ex-Spokane friends Pat and Kellie Rusnak (now living near Philadelphia) for dinner and a harbor cruise.  (See!  SOMEBODY came to see us.  neener, neener, neener.) Our marina in Baltimore is in a great location with good access to shopping, etc.  Lots of pleasant liveaboards who can offer local intelligence.   A West Marice and Ace Hardware almost next door. And floating docks with finger piers on both sides of our slip. Yeah, Baby!

Baltimore Harbor is another story, however.  Depending on the wind and tide, it can look like a

microcosm of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.  Plastic cups, bottles, wrappers, and bags everywhere.  Very sad.  And boaters hate plastic bags in the water because they act like synthetic jellyfish and clog up water intakes.

We'll spend a few days here before heading back to Annapolis for Labor Day Weekend.

Thanks for following.

Wade and Kathleen

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Lubricants...

..........If We Couldn't "Ahem", We Would All Go Insane."*

Note  The author is a product of Idaho's Silver Valley and is, therefore, at his worst moments, an accomplished profaner.  However, in this blog entry, the expression "Ahem" has been inserted in the place of various and well-deserved expletives.

Clean lubricating oil is critical to the health of diesel engines.   And it's not like we can run the boat into JiffiLube for the lunch hour special when its time for a change.   Each engine holds just over 5 gallons of oil and has two oil filters (primary and bypass).  And there are the inevitable challenges in accessing engine components in a boat.  Yards typically charge $300+, plus oil and filters to do this and most are scheduled out for weeks.   Ahem

But, it's fun to try new things, right?  During our recent visit to Annapolis, we encountered the perfect storm for a DIY oil change.  We had access to a courtesy car to go buy oil and filters.  The marina had a tank for dumping old oil for recycling and a disposal process for filters, rags, etc.  And we had the time.  So, we invested about $200 in oil and filters, warmed up the Volvos, and went for it. Ahem.

Draining the old oil is easy.  The boat is equipped with a Reverso oil exchange system that is pre-plumbed to the drain plugs at the bottom of each oil pan.  One simply sticks a hose in a used oil container (a 2.5-gallon oil jug left by the prior owner), opens the Reverso valve for the correct engine, and flips the switch to "Drain".  When the jug is full, you stop the pump and send your beautiful, intelligent, helpful, tolerant, and supportive spouse off to empty the jug.  Repeat the process for a 2nd jug full and "Ta Da!" you have an empty oil pan.  As long as you're careful handling the jugs of oil in the cramped engine room, it's quick and easy.  Refilling the engine with fresh oil just the Reverse-o (so to speak), using the "Fill" switch..

But in between come the filters.  Ahem.   The first issue we encountered (after we had drained the first engine, of course) was that our NAPA Auto Parts oil filter wrench was much too small for massive primary filters and much too large for the smaller bypass filters. Ahem, Ahem   We were fortunate to borrow a Craftsman strap wrench (Christmas hint 😀) from the marina.  

Now, those of you who do oil changes understand that the new filter is always marked "1/4 turn            past hand tight only."  And,  you're terrified of oil leaks.  So you always put the wrench on the new filter and snug it just a "tad" past "1/4 turn past hand tight only".  Right?  And then regret it at the next oil change, huh.  Ahem. Ahem.  Read on.

The filters on the port engine are inboard and fairly easy to reach.  But breaking them loose to unscrew took all my strength and a 1-foot cheater pipe  (which we dubbed  "Belichick") on the wrench.  Ahem, Ahem.  And why the heck don't Ahem engine manufactures design Ahem oil filter mounts that are Ahem self-draining?  In a fit of  Scandinavian wisdom, Volvo even laid these filters on their side.  So no matter how diligent you are, there will be Ahem oil drips (or worse) into the bilge to clean up.  Ahem. Ahem.

Then there were the starboard filters. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem.  Outboard and sandwiched between the engine and a 250-gallon fuel tank, just past the start batteries and dual fuel filters, in the dark.  Ahem, Ahem. Ahem.  After removing both batteries and unbolting part of the V-belt cover, we were able to actually get the wrench on the primary filter.  Ahem  With maybe three inches of turning clearance.  Ahem. Ahem.  After about an hour of work, an ample supply of Ahems,  and the application of Belichick, we were able to begin turning the filter.  When it came time to remove the filter, it was a one-handed affair. With the expected drips and drizzles into the bilge.  Ahem.  Ahem.  Ahem.

Installing the new filter one-handed presented a new challenge.  The goal to simultaneously support its weight at arm's length and thread it onto the mount while lying on one's side while sandwiched up against the fuel tank proved, to put it mildly, elusive. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem.   Using a webbing tie-down dangled across the engine from above with one hand to support the weight of the filter and the other hand to spin the filter on proved to be the ticket.  Ahem, Ahem, Ahem Ahem

 And 5 hours after it Ahem began, it was Ahem Ahem finished.  and we were still married. Barely.

Next time, we will pay the Ahem Ahem Ahem boatyard.

Ahem

Wade and Kathleen

*With thanks to Jimmy Buffet and Parrot Heads everywhere.

In Maryland, They Serve Scotch with a Slice of Lime

 And Other Observations from the Land of Spiro Agnew

One of the reasons we chose to visit Crisfield ("the marina without a town") was to make an opportunistic fuel purchase at a good price.  (As a state-owned enterprise, a profit margin is not an issue.) Alas,  the morning we left the Marina was without power and the fuel dock was closed. (heavy sigh)

Shaking the dust from our sandals, we headed back across the Bay to Solomons, MD, one of the legendary yachting destinations in the region.  We intended to pick up a mooring ball and try out our dinghy for shore visits.  Alas, the moorings for boats our size were occupied or blocked by some big sailing catamarans.  Those rag boaters were apparently absent the day they taught sharing. Typical.

So we ended up with a side-tie berth at Zanhiser's Marina.  The marina was spotless, the staff very helpful, and the place was SO boring  The restaurant was closed due to COVID, the store was closed due to COVID, the pool bar was closed due to (you guessed it) COVID.  Maggie could even find people on the docks to charm  By knocking on the right window at the office, we did obtain the use of a couple of beach cruiser bikes We had a nice ride around Solomons Island where we saw a nice seaside village, most of which was closed due to COVID.  The nice people at the marina did take Kathleen to the grocery store and the liquor store, so we were able to maintain our larder.

After two nights, we bid Solomons a yawning adieu and crossed the bay once more to the lovely little village of St. Micheals on the Miles River. AND IT IS OPEN FOR BIDNESS!  St. Micheals is a

charming home to about 1,000 souls who have all figured out how to function under COVID  Our marina was at a small resort hotel and THEIR pool bar was at full service.  And Admiral Magie made more new friends than we could count.   As we passed the restaurant deck on our way for a walk, people we had never even seen called out "Hi, Maggie"  Sheesh.  

AND.......

AND......

AND.....

....the weather was cloudy and cool (well, relatively).  Highs of 80 with occasional light rain.   So much contrast to what we have been experiencing,  we were tempted to wear long pants for the first time since leaving Spok-la-homa in June.  (But cooler heads prevailed.)   

We had a lovely walk down thru the business district along the harbor and among the many lovely period homes (real and ersatz).  We searched in vain for the homes reported owned by Dick Cheney and Don Rumsfeld. (Should one expect watch towers and concertina wire?)

On Friday morning, we availed ourselves to 200 gallons of diesel at $1.99 per and set off thru a 10-15  knot NE wind and a light chop.  We learned that Irish Lass does not much like a following sea at our usual 9 knot/1 mpg cruising speed with a full load of fuel.  By running a bit faster, the hydrodynamic of our planing hull gave us a more stable, comfortable ride.  At the cost of more fuel,  of course.  (heavy sigh)

Which brought us to the boating capital of the mid-Atlantic region, Annapolis, where we are safely ensconced at Annapolis Landing Marina.   WOW! More boats and boatyards than you ever did see.  One of our neighbors is rumored to be retired Admiral John Poindexter (Ollie North's Iran Contra boss).   

We are planning our attack of Annapolis, so stand by for further news.

Oh, and WTF is the Scotch with lime thing?  (Can't be from Spiro.  He a milk guy, right?😀)  Can any of you offer any insights on this point?

Thanks

Wade and Kathleen.

"Here Comes the Story of the Hurricane"

The One the Authorities Gave An Unpronounceable Name......*

Isaias.  That's the best they could come up with?  Not Irene, or Imogene, or Idaho, or Ignatius, or Isabell, or Ivy, or even just plain Isaiah?  No, it was Isaias.  (Which is, I am told, Portuguese for Isaiah).  Diversity run amuck, IMHO.  But that is a story for another day.

Isaias came to call on August 3rd.  We watched the various weather prognosticators and tried to devise the appropriate course of action.  We spent quite a bit of time securing the boat with doubled lines and fenders, securing lose gear, and helping our neighbors do the same.  And debating endlessly whether to leave our canvas up to try to protect the bridge and cockpit (at the risk of getting it shredded) or to take it down and just let the wind blow right thru (guaranteeing a good soaking. ) 

But Isaias was a fickle fellow who vacillated between a tropical storm well offshore and a Category One hurricane plowing right thru North Carolina and Virginia.  So once minute we were committed to staying aboard Irish Lass and the next we were headed for stout construction on high ground.  But once we saw the storm hit NC as a full-fledged hurricane with a projected path right over the top of our York River marina, we bailed to the nearest Best Western.

We passed the night in a mediocre hotel room with a hyper-active AC unit (Maggie was thrilled to have her own bed), dining on take-out Mexican food and worrying about the boat.  We were awakened at 4:00 AM by a tornado warning and the sound of falling tree limbs in the parking lot.   Once the power failed at the hotel, there was little incentive to stick around, so we loaded up the rental car and headed back to the marina on August 4th. 

We found Irish Lass suffering from nothing more than a case of soaked cockpit carpets (we had left the canvas rolled up).  WHEW!  The storm had picked up speed once onshore, so it did not linger long on any one place.  WHEW! Our neighbors who stuck it our reported that things rocked and rolled a bit.  But the on-shore path of the storm negated any significant storm surge.  WHEW! The only lasting impact is that the marina was without power for almost 48 hours. so, now we know our generator will run for long periods of time.  WHEW! 

And that, friends and neighbors, was the story of the hurricane..... (WHEW......yawn.......)

(* With apologies to Rueben Carter and Bob Dylan)

CRUISING (At Last!)

Maryland, My Maryland.

Today we are in the Somers Cove Marina in Crisfield, Maryland.    Yesterday, we bid farewell to York River and cruised (yes, really) some 70 miles NNE to Tangier Sound and the Little Annemessex River on the eastern shore of Chesapeake Bay.   It was a trip of seven-ish hours and consumed (OMG%!!&) diesel fuel.  Commodore Kathleen demonstrated her growing boat handling skills (see below)by exiting York River and staying in command for the first 3 hours of our journey.

Somers Cove is a lovely (albeit pretty empty today) state-owned facility with great docks, nice facilities, helpful staff, and good fuel

prices.  Neat, clean, and in good repair. It is surrounded by the town of Crisfield which boasts a USCG station, three Dollar stores, two gas stations,  one grocery store, and about 137 crab shacks.   Once the Seafood Capital of the World, its decline has sadly followed that of the Chesapeake fishery.  Except for a couple of very notable local festivals (centered on crab), there is not a great deal of here here. 

So, how did we get here......

We had planned to leave York River in Early August, provided the components of our new dinghy arrived and a few other things fell into place. Our last week at York River Yacht Haven was a busy one:  

• The missing air floor for the Zodiac arrived and we were able to complete assembly.  Our maiden voyage on Sarah Creek was nigh on flawless, with Admiral Maggie assuming her rightful place in the bow for all to see.
• Wade installed a new potable water pump so we can stay hydrated while on the move. 
• The replacement circuit breaker for the Maxwell anchor windlass arrived and Wade got it installed with no shocking events.
• Our slip neighbor Rob (who just happened to be a marine refrigeration expert) dropped everything to diagnose and repair our galley refrigerator, even finding the required new control module in his personal parts inventory.  Then he turned around and refused all payment.  (We did finally get him to accept a bottle of whiskey).
• We engaged Captain Patrick Davis to join us for three days of onboard instruction and consulting.
  
  Under his patient instruction. Commodore Kathleen blossomed into a confident helmsperson in a matter of hours.  She can maneuver Irish Lass in a tight fairway, approach and leave a side-tie and even back her into a slip with Wade acting as a deckhand.  Yeah, BABY!  (Wade proposed ordering a new deck chair and blender and letting her assume helm duties full time.  But cooler heads prevailed.) Captain Pat also reviewed routine engine room tasks, basic navigation and trip planning, and emergency procedures.  And he patiently answered our endless questions, big and small

• During Capt. Pat's visit, we motored across the York River to Wormley Creek Marina to load up on fuel. (York Yacht Haven's fuel dock was out of commission.)   After concluding our "investment" in 240 gallons of diesel, we discovered that the starboard engine would not turn over.  Not one to pass up free lemonade, Wade got a hands-on lesson in single-engine boat handling, backing out of the fuel dock, navigating out of Wormley Creek, and backing into our York River slip without incident.
• With Capt Pat's assistance, we determined that the starboard starter was not engaging, apparently a solenoid issue.   After some wringing of hands and scratching of heads, Wade recalled a solution that used to work on a certain 1955 Oldsmobile in his past.  Crawling behind the starboard engine, he smacked the starter-selenoid assembly three times with a hammer and jiggled the wires.  And, TA DA! the starter engaged and the engine started.   And 10 more times in sequence, but with some unusual noises. (Sheesh)
• Kathleen made a round of calls to nearby marine mechanics, quickly determining that none was available for at least two weeks.  Several offered helpful advice, however, that the starter is likely on its last legs and we would be wise to line up a new one against the possibility of failure at some out-of-the-way location.  As in, DON'T WAIT FOR PARTS!  Hey! What. A. Concept.  (Its fun to try new things, isn't it.)
• Not wanting to delay our departure, The Commodore got out her phone and located a gen-u-ine Volvo starter in Norfolk.  And Captain Pat drove us an hour each way in heavy rain and traffic so we could make this (not insignificant) "investment" in our mechanical peace of mind. (Those of you who understand how boat engines are often installed will appreciate why we don't just install it ourselves.)

So, here we are in Crisfield.....

Tomorrow we will cruise 40 miles across the Bay to Solomons, MD, on the Patuxent River where we intend to spend two nights "on the hook".   From there we will head to St Michael's, back on the eastern shore and then on to Annapolis for a few days (and hopefully a visit with a Volvo mechanic.)

But, we are CRUISING!  And we are NOT waiting for parts.

News Flashes!

Admiral Maggie Awarded Ambassadorial Status! 

Admiral Maggie has assumed a leadership role in our COVID-restricted social life.  Her waking hours are devoted to roving ambassadorial outreach, introducing herself to everyone she sees.  Fellow boaters, a wedding party, marina staff,  fishing charter clients, shipyard workers, and restaurant customers.  None are safe from her charms.  They all joyfully greet her by name, even when they have never met her minions (i.e us).  Tells where we rank.  Sheesh.

They Ain't Comin'  😦

Our son Daniel and his fiance Alexandria were scheduled to join us in Annapolis on the 8th for a few days.   Unfortunately, Maryland is not on the list of "safe" states in the eyes of the governor of Massachusetts (where they live) and travel there could subject them to some draconian quarantine requirements.  So, they ain't coming.  We are BUMMED but simultaneously pleased that they are being cautious with their health in the midst of all this madness.   (Besides, they need to get ready for their WEDDING next Memorial Day.👍)

Captain Pat IS Coming

We have hired Captain Patrick Davis to join us aboard for three days next month to provide us some instruction.  Ther plan is he will focus on making Kathleen more comfortable operating the boat (with no yelling😀) and helping Wade fill some gaps in his knowledge.   So we are busy planning the COVID management measures we will employ during his visit. 

The New Dinghy Has Arrived!!

Our new 10' Zodiac and 6 hp Tohatsu outboard arrived by truck on Thursday.  👌The guys at the boatyard graciously brought the palette to our dock with their forklift and refused our tip.  (Ambassador Maggie had previously seduced them, See above.) 

 In keeping with the spirit of this adventure, buying it has been a process.    In shopping, we quickly learned that COVID and trade wars with China had laid waste to inventories all up and down the east coast.  We were quoted unguaranteed arrival dates in Sept and Oct.  As reported earlier, Beach, we contacted Inflatable Boat Specialists in Venture, CA (yes, really).  They offered good prices and fast, inexpensive shipping but also did not have what we wanted in stock,  What they DID have was 10 of the model we wanted in transit from the manufacturer (Code For: in a shipping container somewhere on a ship in the Pacific.)  And yes, we could reserve one, if we hurried.  And while we were logging in to make our order, they were all spoken for by salivating sales reps.  We got back-ordered to Sept.  

😡POOP! DOODO!  CACA! #2!  CRAPOLLA! (and other words to that effect) 😡

But.......

They did have a "blemished" boat of our model they could offer s at a discount. The purchaser used it a few times, decided he wanted a different boat and exchanged it.  A few smudges and scuffs but with a full new boat warranty.  We could have it by August 1st.  DEAL!!  👍😁

THE NEW DINGY HAS NO FLOOR!!

😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

After unpacking it on the dock, it was immediately apparent that they had not shipped the "air floor" for the boat.  The owner's manual and patch kit were also missing. 

(see scatological expletives above)  

We chose a soft bottom, inflatable floor boat in the interests of weight and off-season storage.  Its multi-chambered construction makes it very rigid when fully inflated.   (Think inflatable SUP.)  Makes for a light, easy-to-store boat.  Anyway, after a few hours of scrambling, our dealer notified us that the missing components were on the way via 3-Day UPS.  

Hey...........

This feels kinda familiar.

Like we've been here before

Yes, once again, we are:

Waiting For Parts!

(Heavy Sigh)

"The Song Remains the Same"

'"Gonna Make You Sweat, Gonna Make You".......well......SWEAT!*

Have we mentioned that tidewater VA is HOT?  For the past week, we have endured temps in the high 90's and humidity-adjusted Heat Indexes of 105 or more.  So, we're not talking just HOT.  Not sauna-at-the-fitness-center HOT.  Not even 7500-Level-of-the-Star-Mine (Burke, ID) HOT.   We're talkin' overnight lows of 81 and good morning humidity of 70% HOT.  We're talkin' fog your glasses when you step outside HOT.  We're talkin' hose-the-dog-down-three-times-a day-HOT.  In short, we're talkin' DAMN HOT!

That is not to say we have been idle.  Since our last blog post, we have:

• Completed the weather interrupted cruise of Mobjack Bay.  Heading up the North River from
  
  Mobjack, we made it all the way to Edington, where the water got a bit skinny.  And where we saw several authentic antebellum plantation houses.   About 60 miles and 5 hours round trip.  And Commodore Kathleen took the helm for almost half the journey. 
• "Solved" the nagging battery alarm on the starboard engine.  In the end, we concluded it was a false alarm.  Both we and a local mechanic used our multi-meters to verify the correct voltage at every point in the process.   In multiple cruises, both engines have displayed the same voltage before, during, and after.  So.......... I pulled the starboard alarm "horn" out of the dash and disconnected it.  Our obligation now is to be vigilant on the warning lights as we enjoy the silence.
• Finalized the purchase of an inflatable dingy and outboard motor.   With inventories and supply chains disrupted by COVID and to meet our price point, we ended up purchasing from a dealer in Ventura, CA (yes, really),  and are anxiously awaiting delivery this week.  Plus Wade and Maggie
  
  made a trip to Nauti Nell's marine consignment store in Deltaville, bringing home a spare anchor for Irish Lass and a fuel tank for the new dingy.

• Took time to journey down the Colonial Parkway to visit the living history museum at Colonial Williamsburg and the archeological site of Jamestown, despite the stifling heat.   The docents
  
  there were heroic to wear their period costumes (with COVID masks) under these conditions.  Sheesh!

• Discovered a fascinating parallel between the shore of the Chesapeake and those of the Arctic Ocean.  In both, under extreme weather conditions, it is not uncommon to see folks simply leave the car running while they go about their daily lives.  Here, with the AC blasting, there with the heater on maximum.   Who knew?
• Repaired our # 2 water heater (broken wire), doubling our hot water capacity, 
• Made a second 3 hours cruise on the York River.  It began with a visit to Wormley Creek Marina
  
  for some fuel (our marina has a diesel pump problem), where we navigated a challenging entrance channel followed by an even more difficult path to the fuel dock.  This one ought to be on the Captain's test.  Sheesh

• Enjoyed the new dearth of jellyfish.  Perhaps they don't like the heat, either.  Too bad, so sad.....
• Encountered our first dolphins in the Bay (as we entered Wormley Creek).  Imagine our relief, knowing that we are no longer traveling without porpoise..................

Thanks for listening


(*With apologies to Robert Plant and Jimmie Page.)

Revelations

Thus far:

1) Everything takes longer and costs more. 

Covered extensively in prior posts, and reproved almost daily. (heavy sigh)

2) Marine air conditioning is NOT a foolish, slothful, fancy-schmancy option. 

I admit it.  In the past, I scoffed at boats with A/C.  Marina queens! Wimps! Miami Vice wannabes!
Now, after a month on the Chesapeake, I have come to believe that it is as critical as diesel fuel or a compass.  You simply cannot function in this part of the country without it.  I can only imagine how people exited here before A/C was prevalent. 

3) Jellyfish are an ABOMINATION!!!

Jellyfish are a miracle of nature.  They swim around, eating, pooping, and procreating without the benefit of a mouth, a brain, or even a well-defined shape.  They just billow along in grace and beauty, seeming to have no purpose or destination.  Right up until THEY GET SUCKED INTO THE SEA WATER INTAKES FOR YOUR AIR CONDITIONING!  They shoot up from the thru-hull and hit the stainer like jello in a colander.   The water pressure ensures little bits of the little lovelies get squeezed thru the screen and wash into the AC pump and water circuit, plugging up the works and shutting down the system.  Generally at the most inopportune time.  Grrrrrrrr........

It seems that the jellies "bloom" in these waters this time of year and we have been forced to clean their remains out of the AC strainers 3 times in the past 36 hours.  I fail to see any redeeming value in these creatures.   Like rattlesnakes, killing them only slightly reduces the threat they pose.  And because their venom is still active after death-by-puree, you better be wearing gloves when you clean up their mess.  Get behind me, Satan! 

4) Dish TV is a double-barrelled, revolving pain in the patoot!

By my count, we have accumulated more than 10 hours on the phone with multiple DISH technical support reps, trying to get the secondary TV (Master Stateroom) to function the same as the primary TV (Main Cabin).  To no avail.  Using our KVH satellite dish, the primary TV offers a wide array of channels across three satellites.  The secondary TV stubbornly refuses to see more than one satellite on the same antenna.   Oh, well.  there is always rabbit ears........  

In other news.....

We have made two outings.  In the first, we cruised 22 miles up the York River to see the sights and

practice boat skills,   uneventful, except for the threatening thunderhead that cut a bit short. Managed to back into the slip without incident next to a very expensive 49' Grans Banks Eastbay.  (Whew!) 

Our second outing was a bit more adventurous.   We planned to cruise north the Mobjack Bay in the hopes of seeing some antebellum plantation houses and other sights.   The forecast was for ESE wind of 10-13 knots and waves of 1-2 feet.   Seemed doable, but we failed to anticipate that the first 25% of the voyage would be directly into the wind and the seas.  Two lessons were immediately apparent.   First, our windshield wipers do work and, second, we should not travel into a head sea with the upper sections of the windshield open.   Towels were deployed for all hands.

As we turned north, these same seas were on our starboard beam, making for a rolly ride.  So we bailed a headed back into the York River.   On a whim, we decided to check out the free dockage at the Yorktown Riverwalk Landing and perhaps have lunch.  While docking in the same stiff (and now cross-) wind, Wade managed to deeply gouge his right calf on a metal rod under the helm seat as the scrambled back to the helm to reverse engines to assist  Kathleen and the (wonderful) dock attendants in affixing mooring lines.

After securing the lines and watching it bleed for a bit, we broke out the first aid kit and wrapped it in a pressure bandage.   The dock attendants offered to call the local EMTs, who in turn suggested a trip to the ER was in order.  So while Commadore Kathleen and Admiral Maggie hung out on the Yorktown waterfront, Wade rode to the ER with the EMTs and came back three hours later with a tetanus booster and a much cleaner wound closed with 5 big stitches. Ouch.  (We won't trouble you with pictures of the injury,  Suffice to say, it weren't pretty.) 

A short bumpy run across the river in beam seas put us back in the slip, with another uneventful landing.  Enough for one day.  Sheesh.

Thanks for following. 

"Blame Canada, Blame Canada!"

Or, if you prefer, "It's up to you, New York, New York"

There is surely enough blame to go around. 

For those among you who were still hoping, it's now official.  We will not be Looping in 2020.   😖

Being able to enter Canada is a prerequisite to the section of the LOOP we planned to complete this year.  The Canadian border remains closed to recreational vessels due to Covid19 concerns, with only vague references to any possible opening date.  And Looping without seeing the Canadian north shore of Lake Huron is a Loop incomplete, IOHO.     So, take off, you hosers! 

The option to avoid Canada in favor of the Erie Canal, Buffalo, NY,  and Lake Erie is similarly off the table.  In their finite wisdom, the New York Canal Corporation suspended offseason lock maintenance activities when the state went into lockdown in March.   And they are now saying it will be, like maybe late August before the work can be completed and the canal fully reopened.  So, say we like hit Buffalo on Sept 1st and we ran like full throttle across Lake Erie, Lake St. Clair, past Mackinac Island, and the entire length of Lake Michigan, we might, like maybe, make Chicago before the snow flies. (and burn, like, 2,000 gallons of diesel in the process). Like, no, thank you.

And then there are the Illinois river locks closed by the Corps of Engineers for major maintenance until October.

SO..............................

We have decided to spend the rest of this season cruising the Chesapeake.  There are several seasons of destinations here and enough history to fill multiple libraries.  So we will not be bored.  And we will have ample opportunity to better know our vessel and ourselves. 

In the Fall,  we will place Irish Lass is storage and return to Spokaloo for the winter. (Yes, really.)  Then in Spring 2021, we will return to the Chesapeake and get to Looping.

But stick around, there is much more to come!