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.