November 7 Morehead City to Swansboro 20 4 miles

We headed off in the ICW through Bogue Sound and this is hard work because the sound is so wide and the deep channel so narrow. I ran us into the sand at one point but we dropped the sail and backed off. Yes, I tried to sail, using the small jib only, which gave us an extra knot or two, but the strong gusty wind blew us off the course auto pilot was trying to steer; and with trimming the sail came the inattention that led to the grounding.  So no more sailing today. 

We were underway from 9:30 to 1:30. Most of the way was a few degrees north or south of due west. Ilene called the Coast Guard who told us that the live shelling at Camp Lejeune would end at noon, hours before our arrival, so we could anchor at Mile Hammock Bay. But just a half mile after we passed Swansboro, “Pipe Dream,” which has overtaken us, was coming back the other way and told us that the live firing would continue until 5, too late for us to arrive there. So we too did a “U” turn and anchored in Swansboro.

The pencil is pointing to the white spot to the right of the town, where we are anchored. In the lower left, just below the line "X---X", is a magenta line labelled "St M 230" (Statute Mile 230 since Norfolk), running perpendicular to the double dash bordered magenta line indicating the route of the ICW, which shows how crooked it is. And below the knife blade in the lower right corner it says Bogue Inlet, through which, in the photo below, we saw out to the Atlantic for the first time since Cape May, NJ.

We also saw the dramatic effect of the swift running tide. It was ebbing  and as we came to the Inlet our speed picked up to 6.6 knots, only to drop to 4.2 knots as soon as we passed the inlet when the same outgoing tide was running against us.

Here in Swansboro we  are one of eight boats and are on 80 feet of chain in 17 feet of water. The big factor here is the tide which caused us to face the other way when it changed. We happened to anchor next to “Island Time” and used our dink for the first time on this cruise – I’ve been out a month today! The town is quant but we failed to find a postcard though we did find this Gekko,

made from the steel top of a 55 gallon drum, at a gallery.














This house was built in 1778.

   Here were ashore, our heads framing ILENE.

Tomorrow is a long day to Wrightsville Beach, almost 47 miles. So its early to bed.

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November 9 and 10 Overnight from Wrightsville Beach to Charleston 162 Miles

To plan arrival times from overnights so as to coordinate with tides, marinas being open and daylight, one has to assume a speed. Divide the distance in nautical miles by speed in knots and you get hours. Several questions in the Coast Guard Captains licence exam involve this fact and an assumed constant speed, which power boaters can more or less maintain. For overnight passages, we assume ILENE will make an average speed of 6.5 knots. We left at 9:30 am with a plan to arrive in mid morning the next day.

But sailboats have only moderate control over their speed, which is largely wind dependent. And it takes a minute or two of going the wrong way while putting up and lowering the mainsail, and relatively slower motoring speeds for the miles of the going out at the beginning and coming in at the end. And our course was lengthened when, due to the wind being directly behind us too slow, we took a wider turn around Frying Pan Shoals to avoid a dead run. That shoal extends quite a few miles out from the north side of the mouth of the Cape Fear River. Conversely, our course was shortened slightly when we cut the last buoy, R2, and passed near Rattlesnake Shoals off the entrance to Charleston. (That shoal is 16 feet below the surface so we could go directly over it, but why take even theoretical chances.) But the greatest variable is the wind. We had a few hours where the wind gave us less than four knots, and two hours in which we made a thrilling 8.5.

We had about three hours of very light rain in the late afternoon. One cant get rainbows without rain.

Some dolphins played with us at dusk.
Our dinner was a delicious and filling hot bowl of peppers, onions, sausages, pasta, red sauce and cheese that Lene had partially cooked before we left; we ate in the cockpit in the dark. Lene maintained the watch from 7 to midnight and I came on for the rest of the trip. It got cold during the wee hours but full foulies and gloves kept the chill out -- no pain. When Lene took over we were going only 3.5 knots on a very broad reach so I authorized the engine at 5 knots and we hauled the mainsail to midships to be a stabilizer. This was a mistake, in the sense that we wasted fuel and engine hours: sometime during Lenes watch the wind came back, and just aft of the starboard beam. So at midnight I eased the mainsheet out and we jumped to six knots. I shut down the engine and let out the genoa to play as well and our speed built to seven and eventually to variations over nine for several consecutive minutes. Eventually, we furled the genoa for the last three hours to delay our arrival. We had a beautiful sunset,

but the sunrise took place "off camera"  because heavy dark clouds blocked the eastern horizon during that event. The night time watches were quite boring due to the absence of even a single other boat out there to be seen, much less to worry about; we really had the ocean to ourselves.

The high speed portion was thrilling. ILENE seemed to be saying "I was born to go fast and Im having fun out here!" Comparatively little heeling, and not big waves, just an exuberant dash through the open seas, out of sight of land with enough light, after the moon came up, to be able to see a bit. "Thanks, Dad", she seemed to be telling me.

In my last post I worried about the auto pilot but it performed very well during this passage. We expect minor variations in our heading among strong forces out there and auto steered admirably, though noisily, with a soft squeaking/beeping sound that I need to investigate.

This bridge is just a bit upstream from us.

Im getting the spring lines in place for our arrival; end of the bridge, right.

Bottom line: we arrived in the Charleston Maritime Center at 10:30 am, 25.5 hours after we left, with an "average" speed of 6.35 knots over the assumed 162 nm.

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November 15 to 17 Three Lay Days in Beaufort SC Zero Naut Miles

Here is that Ladies Island Bridge, first from land, closed, and then from ILENE at the dock, open, with just a few of the waiting cars at the extreme left.

It was cold but the third day has been warm but first windy and then rainy. The wind pushed us hard on the dock, separated by our somewhat flattened fenders. Several boats that were anchored out dragged into the marshes.
Lene used the Downtown Marinas courtesy car for groceries and to obtain this Mr. Heater Buddy,

which burns propane, producing carbon monoxide and hence is not as safe as using the electricity driven heat exchanger, but used when we are not at a dock and carefully, for small periods of time while we are awake, it can take the chill off in the evening and early morning.

I washed the boat, cleaned the starboard rub rail with acetone and waxed it; not much for three days, I confess. I also plotted a whole bunch of alternative courses between here and St. Marys, where we want to arrive a few days before Thanksgiving for the festival there. All the way from a single 125 mile overnight passage to as many as four intermediate stops, each such shorter hop or combinations of them by the inside and outside routes. It all depends on the winds, as always. Each such potential course except the inside ones, consist of three segments: to get out to the sea, in the sea and coming in from the sea.
Beaufort is a very historical town and the county seat and site of a US District Courthouse (federal court), as well as a tourist town with many shops, galleries and restaurants. I checked out the mostly used bookstore with a huge selection of books by Pat Conroy, and an antique shop with a nice selection of antique nautical charts. The restaurant we found and patronized this time is Low Country Produce, located in the tile walled former post office and town hall. It has good reasonably priced innovative cuisine and sells groceries as well. We bought a jar of their pickled Jerusalem artichokes after having been given a few with our dinner.
I visited the John Mark Verdier House,

right on the main street, Bay Street, which survived the war and several fires since 1804. It is the site of the historical society but they offer only guided tours of the house, which they do not conduct for only one person, so I saved $10 and contented myself with viewing the public rooms.
I had never thought that the Union army "occupied" the South during the war, but they did occupy Beaufort, because it was a harbor from which, through port Royal Sound (where a multi-ship naval battle was fought) they could operate the blockade of the Confederacy to choke off revenues from the sale of Sea Isle cotton, the finest grade, to England. The white confederate residents fled leaving their property (slaves) behind, so missionaries came in to help them, as well as merchants, newspaper publishers, photographers and carpetbaggers of all types. Many of the buildings on Bay Street survived to this day and a diorama was created of them and,from photographs, of the others.

Robert Smalls was a slave who had been stationed on a cargo ship, the "Planter". He put his wife and family aboard and brought the ship to the Union forces and surrendered. For this daring heroic act he was given command of a Union warship, later granted prize money with which he built a house here in town and was elected several times to the US House of Representatives.

But perhaps the best part of this town was just walking among the old homes and the magnificent live oak trees with Spanish moss that grace them.

This last one is Bythewood (two sylables not three), built in the 18th Century by the sea captain of that name and perhaps our favorite. The owner, Heather Perl, came along, took this picture and invited us for dinner. Maybe on the way back we can take her up on that.

We finally met up again with Dean and Susan of "Autumn Borne", who have appeared in this blog several times since we met them, coincidentally here in Beaufort, in the spring of 2012.

We also met their friends (our new friends), Benny and Lisa of "Rhiannon," a 42 foot Catalina. We six shared a pot luck dinner and played  and a game of cards.

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November 24 27 Fernandina Beach FL to St Marys GA 6 8 N Miles

Yes, there should be an apostrophe in "Marys," on the north bank of the St. Marys River, but there is not. And yes, we have gone north, about three of the 6.8 miles, from Florida into Georgia.
We spent four nights at the end of the west dock of Langs Marina. Many of the boats elected to anchor out in the wide, roomy anchorage, though it is beset by tricky tidal currents and strong winds.

The marina is funky to say the least. Most businesses strive to modernize and offer the best and latest conveniences. But not Langs. The cruisers guides warned us to wear slippers in the shower rooms; they are not cleaned very regularly and are old fashioned. The electric towers into which we plug our thick yellow shore power cables offer electricity at only $3 per night -- if you can get it. Most of the towers, including those near us, do nor work and apparently have not worked for several years. This was inconvenient because it has been cold here and Lene would have liked heat. Help with our lines getting onto the dock? Sure; if your neighbors are about and willing to help.  There are some pretty nice boats here, power and sail, including, across the dock from us, a DeFever trawler operated by the founders and owners of the Active Captain website. But Langs is also home to some boats that look rather derelict. And as you can see in this picture of two felines concentrating intently of the bravest of the remaining birds, guano is not washed form the dock except by the rain.

There are some more beautiful birds here too.

We are about 1000 feet from the street. Another thousand feet brings you to Seagles hotel, saloon and restaurant, where the festivities are held.

Thirty rooms upstairs at $90 to $130 per night.

 Langs is priced appropriately, only $1 per foot per night.

We arrived on Monday and each evening there was more and more shared food with drink getting our stomachs enlarged enough for the major feast at 1 pm on Thursday. There is also a communal check in on VHF radio channel 69 each morning, chaired by Ann of s/v "Sea Tramp". Her husband, Lynn, runs daily or twice a day trips with his van to where ever you may need to go in the area, including the supermarket (Lene went three times!), laundry, pharmacy, dry cleaners, propane refill, eye glass repair shop, etc.
We have been hearing about "Thanksgiving at St. Marys" for years and decided to join in this time. And we are glad we did. Dean and Susan of "Autumn Borne" are known by everyone here, probably because Dean has helped most of them, but they especially befriended us and introduced us to a lot of folks who we will be meeting up with further south in the months and years ahead.

Lene flanked by Dean and Susan and, at the sides, by the crew of s/v "Summerwind". Lets face it: the others here are mostly all retiree snow birds, like us, who come from all over the US, though some of us live aboard year round and others revert to land bases when not cruising. Good folks with a common interest in our boats and in telling each other and listening to each others sea stories. For the feast, the townspeople provided the baked turkey and ham and the cruisers each provided a side dish, salad, stuffing, desert, etc., sufficient to serve ten. But most brought more and this was no hunger game.

For the record, I made blanched string beans with bacon, blue cheese and toasted walnuts, and it got eaten up by the throng.



With the town abutting the back side of the Kings Bay submarine base, the town is postered by these bumper stickers:

Every Day In Camden County Is Military Appreciation Day.




They have a Submarine museum

a block from Seagles, where I spent a few pleasant hours. There I met Mr. Treen, a naval electrician with 18 years of service in the submarine service, currently assigned as base photographer. He was doing a story on the museum.
I got to remembering my six day ride on one of our submarines, the USS Requin (SS-481) As Hammerbergs Anti Submarine Warfare officer, I was exchanged for the Requins weapons officer for the segment of our circumnavigation of South America from Montevideo to Rio in 1966. My biggest thrill: they let me dive the sub. I yelled "Dive!", scrambled down the conning tower as quickly as possible so that others could slam closed and dog down the hatch above my head before water started to flow in and then yelled the command: "Blow negative to the mark!"  This meant to release compressed air into a forward compartment sufficient to give buoyancy to the bow and thus level off the dive. And then the submariners, who knew what they were doing, took over again. I recall the palpable sensation of quiet after we were submerged; the crashing sound of the water while a surface boat slices through it was replaced by utter silence.

Tomorrow, a communal pancake breakfast (yes more food!!), a swap meet and then we plan to go east and a bit north to an anchorage off Cumberland Island National Park for a few days before resuming southward from the St. Marys area.

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November 8 Swansboro to Wrightsville Beach 49 miles

Yes, a long day -- underway at 6:15 and put anchor down at 3:45 -- 9.5 hours of motoring in the ICW. Today and yesterday we traveled on sections of the ICW that Ive never traversed before, having been outside at these latitudes on past trips. And I noticed how almost exclusively, and less so than in the spring of 2012, the ICW is in fact a one way street - southbound only - and seems devoid of commercial traffic. It is a road dedicated to snowbirds migrating south.

Our depth sounder is perhaps our most valuable piece of navigation equipment in the ditch and we watch it like hawks. When it starts to go from lets say 14 feet of water to 13.9. 13.8, etc, it means one of two things: either we have moved to a section of the ICW with shallower water, or we have started coming closer to one of the sides. We assume it is the later, try to guess which side we are too close to and go gently toward the other side, watching to see it the water deepens under us.

We noticed two potential mechanical problems that have to be thought through. One, the autopilot seems less responsive and more likely to roam a few degrees to either side instead of staying on the straight and narrow,Perhaps it is only a perceptual problem in that we notice the situation more when we are in a narrow path as compared to when there is nothing but horizon in front of us. Two, the voltage on the starting battery is getting low. Both batteries are charged together in the normal course of events, by the solar panel and by running the engine. The third method is by turning on the battery charger when we are attached to shore power. My current theory on this problem is that the battery charger is somehow decreasing rather than increasing the voltage of the starting battery. It seems to have done this last winter when I replaced the battery, and now again in Deatons, where again we had shore power. Yesterday I replaced the broken off lifting stem of the galley sink trap with a bolt and nut from ILENEs collection of them and cleaned out the filter leading to the fresh water pump, thereby restoring a healthy flow of hot and cold water.

Well today: The first thing occurred as we were getting underway in less than full light. About 30 small fishing boats, each with two warmly clad people were milling about. Lene had to pick our way through them while I secure the anchor.Then a siren sounded and they all took off at breakneck speed overtaking

us on both sides, motors roaring and wakes a making.Wild! Some sort of race or fishing contest perhaps.

We saw dolphins again, the third day in a row; they seem to love to play in the inlets and finally Lene got a shot of one, albeit not the greatest.

Why did our passage take so much time? Blame part of it on the bridges. There were four low ones on todays route, for which one has to hurry to be there on time and then to wait with other boats for their appointed opening times. Waiting, keeping a boat stationary in close proximity to others, can be quite a challenging task if there is strong wind and or tidal current. But today there was no wind. Actually we did get a knot from the Genoa for about an hour but after that the wind Gods took a break. By dumb luck we made the first bridge on time. The second required us to push ILENEs Yanmar diesel harder than I have ever pushed her --3000 rpms. In addition, we made it because the kindly bridge tender asked the waiting motor boats whether they would mind a five minute delay in the opening so the three sailboats could catch up. They graciously agreed. But the third and fourth bridges could not be made by speeding up so we had to make the appointed times by slowing down.

Wrightsboro is a college town for nearby UNC Wilmington, which city is far by boat but near by car. The anchorage is easily reached by small boats who take a left turn almost immediately after passing under the last bridge. But this route is not recommended for boats with deeper drafts like ILENE. We had to continue down the ICW for another 1.5 miles, then take the left, leading to Masonboro Inlet with its protective seawalls extending arms out to sea (through which we plan to depart tomorrow for an overnight jaunt to Charleston SC),

and another left along the inside of the barrier island and another mile and a half

to the sheltered anchorage area.

We lowered (and later raised and secured) the dink for a ride in to town, checked out the beach

and brought a few groceries. It is not supposed to be as cold tonight, or tomorrow, as it was last night and today. No, it is not shorts and tee shirts weather yet. And have I mentioned how much I have enjoyed and depended on Lene; without her company and help this trip would be no fun and very difficult.

After anchoring we learned that our friends, Dean and Susan on "Autumn Borne" pulled in here after us, at the end of an ocean sail from Beaufort. They have been chasing us since they left Catskill New York, We had a headstart. But while we are going outside tomorrow for 162 miles, overnight to Charlestown SC, they are going inside and visiting friends for a few days. So for now, we are still just two boats whose wakes have crossed.

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November 13 and 14 Charleston to Tom Point Creek to Beaufort SC 60 6 Miles

Charleston is like New York in at least one way: both were started at the confluence of two rivers, and the point of juncture is a park and called The Battery.

It is surrounded by lovely stately old homes.  But you cant sail by close because a sand spit extends out from the point.

A pretty easy day of it, 9:45 to 3 pm, motoring all the way in the ICW, which was wide and deep. Cold but not unpleasantly. We made a connection with the boat next to us in the Charleston Marina, "Kachina", a Hans Christian 33, with the most beautifully treated teak.

It is sailed by John and Joanna currently from Colorado but originally from Canada and Marthas Vineyard, respectively. We exchanged cell numbers and stayed close to them all day. We had originally selected Steamboat Creek for the midway anchorage to Beaufort, but Lene read about Tom Point Creek after it was recommended by Jim of "Goldie,"

a home made, steel, blue schooner. So the Admiral changed our destination. The two creeks are only about a mile apart.
The only obstacle today was one low bridge that opens every half hour from 9 to 3:30, only about 4.5 miles from the marina. We left when we were ready and the marina had sent a man to help a boat come in, so he stayed and helped us get off. But it was too late for the 10 am opening so we went very slow for the first 4.5 miles and got there in time for the 10:30 opening and still had time to get through Elliot Cut before its very swift tidal flow turned against us at 11:15.  After anchoring,  I lowered the dink and used it as a platform to get some rust stains out and polished some stainless, before being chased inside by the cold. A cold front with stronger winds passed during the period midnight to 2AM, but our anchor held.

Where is Tom Point Creek, you asked? Oh, it flows into the Wadmalaw River. It runs between Stann and Little Britton Islands. Still no help? Well you wont find Tom Point Creek in Google, except for information on the tides there, but it is about 20 feet deep and just wide enough for a single column of boats to anchor, and swing with the tidal change; a strong tidal current runs through it, For the curious, look in Google Earth at 32 degrees, 38.75 minutes North; 80 degrees, 16.86 minutes West.  It is bordered by salt marshes on both sides

and the book said -- and correctly so -- that dolphins swim up the creek, playful looking but looking for food.





In the morning all six of us had mango pancakes before setting off at about 9:30.

Joanne and Jim

Jim and Susan

Both John and Jim are very handy, the former a carpenter and boat builder, the latter a mechanic who built Goldie and who has lived aboard for 40 years. Both are professional delivery captains so they know something about sailing, in fact, a lot!
When we pulled the hook I did the math: with the Ladies Island Bridge, near Beaufort, closed from 4 to 6 and it being dark by six, we needed speed to get to that Bridge, from which is less than 1/4 mile more to the Downtown Marina of Beaufort. We supplemented the engines power with the small jib and trimmed it on every point of sail during the twisting ICW to gain an extra knot or two. We slowed down only in the three "Cuts" between different rivers. The cuts were short but reported to be shallow, though no problem for us today. A passing shrimp boat, its wings out, surrounded by its posse:

 We made the 3 pm opening, with the grace of the kindly bridge tender. The hundred cars and trucks lined up waiting until 3:06 when we passed, may not have thought of her so kindly, though. I think it was Lenes feminine voice that prevailed upon her to wait for us.

We plan to be on docks, here and in Hilton Head, for several days, using dock power to provide heat until the polar vortex goes away.

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October 27 November 14 ILENE Is Ready for the Winter

White, unpainted bottom.  Six work days took place during this period, (totaling 30.75 hours - so Im not working too hard) and two fun days as well.
Why not start with the fun. There was an emergency meeting at the Club because of a failure of a quorum at an earlier meeting. This one took only five minutes and we accomplished two ministerial tasks so they can be acted upon at the next meeting. And then a delicious Moroccan style buffet was served. So this not being a food blog, I will refrain from telling you about the menu -- except for the apple cake, which, based on the flavor and moistness and icing I would have called a carrot cake, except the moistness came from chopped apple instead of grated carrot. And I ended up sitting at the table with the Clubs book group, twelve women and three men, and enjoyed their discussion of "A Man Called Ove" even though I had not read the book.
The other fun event was the 20th Annual Gow Dinner, sponsored by Tex and Maria, who we dined with in Marathon Florida last winter. Tex pays for the whole meal so the full price of the tickets, $50/capita, goes to the Dow School to sponsor a scholarship in memory of their son, who was a student there, until he tragically died in a motorcycle accident. Tex and Maria flew up from where they had left their boat on their way south. I have contributed the cost of two tickets every year for the last twenty, including those when we were south and could not attend in person. Tex is a PC at the Harlem and also a member of the Huguenot, and this year the event took place at the Huguenot. Tex and Maria have a large circle of friends at both clubs and elsewhere, so attendance was good. Somehow, I had forgotten to send in the check so they had no reservation for us, but another PC, who did have reservations could not come at the last minute so we were seated at a table of Harlemites. Tex made a speech, and in his tradition, cried.

Basically the work involved winterization of the water systems and installation of the blue canvas cover with a few other chores started or completed. I had a big problem with the winterization, having sort of forgotten one important ingredient: It is a two man job, one to pour in the pink propelyne glycol and the other turning on and off swtches and faucets and waiting till the discharge appears pink. I got stuck and called upon Ed Spallina, who came in from Connecticut to help me. I used four of his very inexpensive hours and had the pleasure of taking him to lunch at the New Rochelle diner, sort of hidden in plain sight near the Home Depot. Ed is not "certified" as a technician, but he is magically able to figure out how things work. I had drained the raw water strainer, of its sea water through a screw at the

bottom, but had never been able to remove its stainless steel filter basket, because I did not know how to get it open. Well now I know that the top screws off and it is a good thing we looked inside because the basket was substantially corroded away. With this picture and a few measurements, I expect to be able to get a replacement basket that fits. Without its straining, particles are likely to be sucked through the engine causing major problems. Ed also bypassed the hot water heater after draining it, by detaching the two hoses that (1) feed cold water to the heater and (2) take hot water from it and connecting them to each other with a black plastic piece with hose barbs at both ends. I had the piece but had not figured out how to use it. Also, we detached the hose that takes fresh water from the tanks to the fresh water pump, and inserted a three foot long piece of hosing cut from the spare hose left over from the water maker installation job of 2010, and inserted a funnel at the top end. So now I do not need to pour so much of the pink stuff into the tanks, but can pour it directly into the pump. This year I used 14 gallons of the stuff. Next year, half that amount!
The cover comes in two pieces and installing it is a bear. On the day before, I scrubbed the topsides, and removed most of the stains in the fiberglass deck caused by the decay of fallen maple leaves -- they put ILENE under a big maple. Im on deck, about 14 feet above ground with the life lines removed and have a lot of lugging and heaving to do to do to get the cover into place and zip the two halves together. It took me four hours. And the problems involved the zippers. In the spring of 2014 when I took the cover off, I noticed that the aft most zipper on the port side was broken. I meant to take the big piece in to Doyle Sailmakers to get it fixed but I forgot. So at the end of the day, the cover was on, but with one inoperative zipper, about ten feet long. I was too tired to take it that half off, fold it up, put it in the car and take it to Doyle. Plan B was to sew across the gap and that took several hours the next day, with a tough job of pushing the needle into the fabric, using the palm to get it most of the way through and then pliers to pull the end through. Good exercise for the core muscles, doing this while balancing on the top of the step ladder. And at the end of the day I noticed another bad zipper, the one that closes the cover up above the swim platform, through which we enter, though it will hold this season.
I could not remove the sensor that measures speed through the water from the through hull where it had been painted in over the years. But Ed had a pliers with a large enough jaws to grab it and that is done. And I bought butt connectors and shrink wrap tubes and spiced the five wires from it to the five that lead from there to the power source and display. Final test: I asked a man working on a nearby boat to spin the wheel that protrudes from the bottom of the boat after I turned on the instruments and got to the cockpit where I could observe the display for boat speed. When he spun the wheel with his finger the instrument changed from zero to showing speed. Hooray! Then I took the tube with the wheel out and replaced it with the attached plug. The reason that the wheel kept breaking until now was the pressure of the heavy lifting strap against it. And the boat has a little plastic sign saying "Strap" telling the yard guys where to place the straps, so that the boat will be balanced in the two straps. Yep! -- right where the speed instrument is. So next spring, after the boat is back in the water, I will pull out the plug and then quickly insert the instrument into the hole through which the water will then be spurting.
The last part of the work involved the anchor and chain. The anchor was where the gap is in the cover at the bow.

I lowered anchor and chain to the ground using the windlass. Then I used (1) rust penetrating oil, (2) heat and (3) a hammer to break the seal and detached the anchor and its shackle and took them to the locker. The surprise was at the bitter end of the 300 feet of stainless chain, the end where it it attached to a "D" clamp it the locker. It was tied on with a square knot in 3/16 inch line, and not that strong Spectra stuff either! When I put it back, this attachment will be made fast with a stainless steel shackle. I have sawed off a large part of the horizontal 3/4 inch thick plywood platform on which the former Lectrasan was seated. This gives me better access to the chain locker and, I hope, will reduce the problem of the chain piling up and jamming the windlass while we raise the anchor. By sawing this off I got the vacuum cleaner hose and my arm into the locker to remove accumulated sand and rust particles and then scrub the rust stains of its interior walls. The half of the chain that goes into the water with each anchoring, is heavily rusted but otherwise still in good condition. The other 150 feet that have lain in the locker is white in this photo.

First I tied loops of it up behind the car and dragged it several blocks through the streets to grind off the exterior rust particles. The remaining work, in addition to installing the new brackets in the spring, is to scrape off 90 percent of the rust on the interior surfaces of each link.





Below is part of the boat, with its cover. At the top is the bottom of the blue canvas. below that, to the right is the aft portion of the bottom with its several coats of grey barrier coat, partially covered with what is left of the blue anti-barnacle paint. To the left, going forward, is the white gelcoat, after the paint was removed. After I touch up this surface it will put on several coats of barrier coat and then several coats of bottom paint. But that will take place in the spring.

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November 28 29 St Marys to Cumberland Island and Lay Day There 6 5 Miles

Another short passage, though made longer because Lene had to go grocery shopping again, her fourth day in a row! So we did not leave until early afternoon, when the tide was flooding into the St. Marys River, reducing our speed. Once we arrived and the anchor was securely set, some course plotting for the stops between here and Fort Lauderdale, a good dinner and we snuggled in for a night that was supposed to be even colder than the one before, but wasnt. While I played with the charts, Lene checked out Cumberland Island by trhe internet. It is a "National Seashore" administered by the National Parks Service. Im grateful to Dick and Elle for suggesting Cumberland as a great place to stop and to Lene who found the activities on the island. It is very roughly the size of Manhattan Island and we passed its beachy Atlantic coastal side while heading south for the St. Marys River inlet about a week ago. Our anchoring location was on its east coast, just off "Sea Camp", the NPS ferry dock,

Dinghy left, ILENE, right

where small boatloads of passengers come over from St. Marys, twice a day, to mingle with folks like us who come on our own bottoms.

All the tourists are also divided among those, like us, who spend a day (or less) on the island and those who bring tents, food, water etc., and camp out at its camp sites, by permit, for up to a week, $4.00 per head! The campers can be further divided between those who take campsites less than a mile from the dock, and those who carry all their stuff up to eleven miles (and back) to camp at wilderness sites.The eight folks here came as a group, took the near option and very friendly.

We were fortunate to get two open spots (another couple had not been able to make it) on a guided tour for eight people in a government van for only $12 per senior.

led by NPS agent Roy

This was a six hour tour and Roy kept talking to us throughout and answering our questions about the geology, flora, fauna, history and politics of the island and the state of Georgia.  He was a great tour guide and very knowledgeable...and isnt allowed to accept gratuities!









We saw an armadillo

and more than a dozen of the 150 wild horses who inhabit this island.

They receive no food or veterinary services but live breed and die on the island and are quite unafraid of humans. They are smaller than the jumpers and hunters I know from barns and their life expectancy is half that of domesticated horses. They and the wild boar, were introduced here by the Spanish. We also saw wild turkeys and deer, close up, but without photos.
Live oaks predominate. This one  extends further to the right than shown, and as you can see, is quite wider than it is tall. They

are not harmed by the Spanish Moss that hangs from them, except to the extent that when wet, and the moss can hold up to ren times its weight in water, can break branches off the trees.. The branches can curve down to the ground and back up again, when they grow in open cleared fields, like the one pictured. Most of them are "Second Growth"; the primeval forest having been cut down to supply curved timbers for building ships like Old Ironsides, the USS Constitution, made largely of Cumberland Island live oak.
We visited the first African Baptist Church, near the north end, a very small, one room chapel in which John John F. Kennedy Jr. was married. It was also visited by President Carter, a Georgia boy.

We stopped at Plum Orchard, a huge formal house, of about 25,000 square feet, built by the widow of Andrew Carnegies brother, for one of their sons and his wife. Completed with indoor squash court and swimming pool about 112 years ago, it reminded me a bit of Downton Abbey, in terms of the social structure and activity norms of the people who lived there.

Even larger, 37,000 square feet, was the Dungeness Mansion, built by Mrs. Carnegie for herself on the ruins of the home of the former plantation owner. Her kids decided not to maintain it after her death so only the stone and bare verticals remain.

Ms. Carnegie owned about 95 percent of the island. Sadly, those kids, who never had to go to school or do any work, generally died young, of alcohol related disorders. Roy told us there were very limited fond feelings among the children for their mother.

The island is now almost entirely owned by the government but about five percent of it is held by about 25 folks with "reservations of rights", i.e., the right to exclusive control of their land until they die. Then, one by one, the government will take over and will either restore the buildings for park or administrative uses if they have historic value or raze the structures and let the wilderness take over again. One such rights holder is Carol, who like the horses, lives off the land, at the north end, and has done so for 44 years, while becoming an expert on sea turtles.
This wall is made of "tabby" which is home made "cinder blocks" molded from burned seashells, sand and water to make a cement in which unburned sea shells are embedded in lieu of gravel to make concrete.

In the morning I went back for a walk across the island to the sea. Even with light waves, you could hear the Atlantics roar from half mile away. Long board walks to avoid disturbing the very wide dunes;

except the horses tracks show that they ignore the signs.








And then there is a very wide beach. You can barely see the three NC elementary school teachers, seated, half way back to the dunes, just slightly to the right of center.

On our way back north, we hope to explore this island by bike. We loved Cumberland.

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