Post No. One, Day 20 LVG – We set sail almost three weeks ago. And left our home in Colorado and most of our worldly belongings three weeks before that. We crossed the country, with our truck loaded to the gills, and then unceremoniously shoved and mashed this mountain of junk necessities into the boat. It has literally taken us five solid weeks to unpack everything, find a place for most of it, and jettison the rest. I thought we were “ready” to leave last time, last year before Teddy got sick and our plans changed, but since we have moved back aboard, it has been constant projects, each one a hairs breadth from being critical to our mission. Things are improving though- having enough time to sit down and tap out a few keystrokes on the computer is a good sign that things are moving in the right direction…
Currently, we are sitting in Hampton, Virginia, tied up to the Hampton Public Piers dock, slip 9, for which I had a free night’s stay coupon that I luckily kept from last years boat show in Annapolis. One free night however has only gone so far to defray the cost of our week long and counting transient dockage bill. We are waiting for a weather window to open for us to head further South, out and around the infamous Cape Hatteras. Its looking like Thursday or Friday might be our day, but considering we need a solid two day forecast of favorable winds, and two days of favorable winds being a bit hard to come by this time of year on the mid-Atlantic coast, we’ll just have to wait and see. We’ve already been here most of a week, but there is another boat down a few slips that has been waiting almost two weeks already. So I guess we should count ourselves lucky to some degree, and just keep our eye on the weather report and our fingers crossed.
A little backstory to catch things up: we actually moved aboard on Monday, September 9th, after more than a few complications of getting our boat dropped back in the water. Then we stayed at the local marina in Galesville, Hartge’s Yacht Haven, for two weeks, unpacking, provisioning, and completing last minute projects. After two weeks aboard, on September 23rd, we set off on a little shakedown cruise across the bay to Maryland’s Eastern Shore to the quaint village of Saint Michaels. The cruise went ok- about 80% I’d say- had a little snafu with the new jib roller furler getting fouled, and on the return voyage to Galesville, ran into trouble with the auto pilot dropping out of auto mode… but after a few more times of this happening since, we have realized it is due to a sharp voltage drop, that in turn we have realized is due to turning on our favorite kitchen friend… Mr. Panini Press. Sad day. The thought of not having Mr. P’s services while underway is almost a deal breaker for this whole endeavor. In any case, this would be our first night at anchor (two actually), and I felt justified, if ultimately unwarranted, of waking up every half hour to check our anchor alarm which would alert us if we were to drag. I shouldn’t have, and shall not from here on out, worry, as our very oversized 85lb Mantus and all chain rode will likely never let us down.
After returning to Galesville to cut our final dock line: selling our Landcruiser (for a song I will add), we pointed the bow south in earnest. On the September 28th, we weighed anchor and headed to Soloman’s Island – our Vita Galleggiante has begun!
In the Soloman’s we anchored out again (getting good at it now), walked the town, toured the marine museum, and celebrated the Head Cabin Boy’s 5th birthday with presents, a t-rex cake, and our first family swim off the back of the boat. Leaving south we crossed the mouth of the Potomac River, and then tucked into the small town of Reedville to wait out some nasty north winds- it actually was too windy for us to even venture ashore the next day (our dinghy motor currently being named the “MV Unreliable” and the prospects of rowing the dink successfully in the wind being unrealistic), which really took the wind out of the boys sails after we had been promising them the Bay’s best ice cream at a local café called Chitterchats. Slightly tragically ironic, we learned that the café had shut down for the season the weekend before we arrived so it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, but that didn’t seem to matter to the boys.
On our second night there, the wind shifted to the south, and with it brought the full odor of the US’s second largest fish processing factory, which sits at the mouth of the river into Reedville, with it. The stench was, in a word, nauseating. Oliver woke up crying because it smelled so bad. I too was on the verge of tears, near gagging with every breath- the smell was not simply fishy, but something nastier, something from a hot garbage can, the kind of fish that is put into tinned cat food is what comes to mind. How anyone lives in Reedville is beyond me.
The next morning we HAD to leave, but the water on the Bay was a bit choppy to say the least, so we tucked in early again, this time to Kilmarnock, Virginia. One night at the dock let us fill the water tanks and charge the batteries, run the two miles into town using the marina’s complimentary mini-van (what an amazing surprise!) to do a mountain of laundry, provision, go to the playground and get some greasy ¾ pepperoni pizza for dinner from a literal time warp from the 60’s called Sal’s (we always order ¾ pepperoni, ¼ cheese, because Hadley insists on a plain cheese pizza, notwithstanding if any and all toppings have been picked off his slice- hello Kevin McCallister??! Our standard order wasn’t always like this, but now we are quickly learning that it is few and far between pizza parlors that will accommodate a ¼ pie topping request. Its ok though, we are almost on the verge of having to order two pies, the boys’ appetites being what they are, so the days of ¼ toppings are numbered, at least for now).
Leaving Kilmarnock, we tackled a hearty eight-and-a-half-hour voyage to Hampton, VA, at the mouth of the Chesapeake, and our final staging point for our jump out into the Atlantic around Cape Hatteras. A few key incidences along the way: we saw two, yes two, pods of dolphins jumping from the waves and spinning tricks, and were also hailed on the radio for the first time by a giant container ship, to ascertain our intentions in the shipping channel leading to Norfolk. Our interaction was benign, to say the least, but would not ever have happened without the modern miracle of AIS (automatic identification system).
AIS is a little box of electronics that transmits your position, speed and course, along with other information about your vessel- name, class, length, weight, home port, etc. – to all vessels nearby equipped with an AIS receiver. All big commercial ships are required to utilize this technology, but for a not so insignificant sum of green backs, even small pleasure craft, like ours, can join the big boys and holler out our AIS broadcast. The safety implications of this are huge. Previously, a small sailboat would basically be a gnat in the path of a huge cargo ship, unseen and likely runover without notice- it has happened. But now, with AIS, my little blinking dot from my transponder shows up on the big bad cargo ship’s AIS plot screen, one: letting them know I exist, and two: alerting them, with bells and whistles, if our paths might cross within any significant distance. There is a lot more to be said about AIS, and you can look it up if you are interested, but suffice it to say that I am sold on the fact that the captain of this monstrous 200,000 ton cargo ship took the time to call up the lowly ol’ 30 ton Saint Robert to inquiry which direction I was planning on heading around a certain buoy. Thank you Prague-Express, and fair winds!
Hampton has been a relief to some extent- we are at the dock (always easier), done with the Chesapeake (sayonara!), and ready for our true push south, out into the Atlantic, around Hatteras, and then on to Florida and all the nice warm places we have been dreaming of. On the other hand, we have been here for a week, waiting for the weather to turn favorable, and every day, the forecast seems to push out an additional day. Last week, Monday (tomorrow) looked good. Then it was Wednesday, then Thursday. Now, Friday or Saturday is on the forecaster’s lips- but what when we get to next Friday? Will it have moved to the following Thursday?? Seems likely with how things are going. In reality, we need a solid two day window of light winds from any direction but North, thus letting us round the cape without too much grumbling and objecting from the north setting gulf stream- the main cause for concern in these parts. I know it will come to be, if not sooner, than later, but rounding Hatteras currently feels like the biggest physical and mental hurtle to overcome in this new life afloat we have embarked on. For now, we wait…
Pictures to follow.
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