An adventure is when you don't know what will happen or how it will end. A successful adventure is when nobody gets hurt. This has been a successful adventure.
The only thing to do this morning was to get from Carolina Beach up to Wrightsville Beach; an uneventful three hours, except that it was the coldest day of the entire trip: temperature in the 30's with strong north-west wind. The first full day of spring.
This trip was about three things: currents, cold, and the transmission fluid leak. I learned how to handle currents, I never got cold, and the transmission held together. That made the adventure a good experience.
Bill Doar
s/v Advent II
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Spring Equinox #2
Later
That worked beautifully. I have fought the Cape Fear many times. From now on I will check the currents. The positive current carried me all the way up, through Snow's Cut and to Carolina Beach. I have almost made it.
Yesterday, people on the radio repeatedly said that yesterday was the first day of spring. The equinox, when the sun crosses the equator, was a little after 05:00 this morning. That was the start of spring. The boat is covered with a light coating of pollen. Freeze warnings tonight. Happy spring to all.
Bill
That worked beautifully. I have fought the Cape Fear many times. From now on I will check the currents. The positive current carried me all the way up, through Snow's Cut and to Carolina Beach. I have almost made it.
Yesterday, people on the radio repeatedly said that yesterday was the first day of spring. The equinox, when the sun crosses the equator, was a little after 05:00 this morning. That was the start of spring. The boat is covered with a light coating of pollen. Freeze warnings tonight. Happy spring to all.
Bill
Spring Equinox 2013 #1
The plan was to stop at the outfall canal in Southport. Then I listened to the weather forecast that said tomorrow the wind would be 15 to 30 from north-east. It might be hard going up the Cape Fear into 30 knots. Then I checked the currents. Today and tomorrow the current will be going down the river in the morning and up in the afternoon. That means that if I wait until tomorrow morning to go up the river I will be going against the current. The tidal current plus the river current reinforced by the wind will be impressive. I decided to grab the current going up this afternoon, and am continuing on to Carolina Beach.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
(no subject)
Last night was one of only a few days that the weather was pleasant enough to sit on the foredeck and enjoy the sundown. I saw a great long fish jump all the way out of the water. It must have been two feet long. Several kinds of ducks. A great blue heron looks like something prehistoric when it is flying really high, then sets its wings and glides to a roost in a tree, long neck outstretched out, long legs reaching down, angular wings held high. What I liked best was the osprey couples doing the aerial display. The go really high, stop in mid air flapping backward, then tumble down doing aerobatics, all the time I could hear the kee! kee! I stayed out till almost dark.
Normandie has an expression: "Paying your dues." It means being unsuccessful over and over again, until at last things work out for you. All that bad current in Florida and Georgia must have been me paying my dues, because, again today the current was with me all the way, and again it was wonderful. I got to Little River about 14:00. An hour earlier than I planned. It was so early I drove out to the inlet and was going to anchor out there near the beach, but the wind was blowing, there was a current running, and it was high tide. I would have had to poke around the unfamiliar backwater to find a place to anchor and I could not run the risk of running aground. So I am now tucked in to Calabash Creek with two other boats. I hope it is OK enough outside to spend some time on the foredeck.
Tomorrow on to the discharge canal at Southport.
Bill
Normandie has an expression: "Paying your dues." It means being unsuccessful over and over again, until at last things work out for you. All that bad current in Florida and Georgia must have been me paying my dues, because, again today the current was with me all the way, and again it was wonderful. I got to Little River about 14:00. An hour earlier than I planned. It was so early I drove out to the inlet and was going to anchor out there near the beach, but the wind was blowing, there was a current running, and it was high tide. I would have had to poke around the unfamiliar backwater to find a place to anchor and I could not run the risk of running aground. So I am now tucked in to Calabash Creek with two other boats. I hope it is OK enough outside to spend some time on the foredeck.
Tomorrow on to the discharge canal at Southport.
Bill
Monday, March 18, 2013
Monday 18 March
One of those days I wish you could have been with me. It started in the vast Santee rice fields, then the Winyah Bay past Georgetown and up the beautiful Waccamaw River. The wind was gentle, sunny, and smooth water. And the river is wide enough that the autopilot steered all the way. I caught the rising tide with positive current, and was still riding it when the anchor went down. There was no hurry, as Bucksport is the last place to stop before the upscale ghetto thay call Myrtle Beach. The engine was at low cruise RPMs, not noisey, just a low rumble. I haven't mentioned the myriad of bird species I have seen, many I didn't recognise, but today I saw four bald egals, two together, the other two in their own territory. A beautiful day.
Anchored just past Bucksport. Plan to go to Little River tomorrow, Southport Wednesday, and to Normandie Thursday. Easy days of 37, 30 and 25 miles (except for that dreadful streatch behind Myrtle Beach).
I could meet you in McClellanville and you could ride as far as Bucksport. It is a very interesting and beautiful 50 miles.
Bill
Anchored just past Bucksport. Plan to go to Little River tomorrow, Southport Wednesday, and to Normandie Thursday. Easy days of 37, 30 and 25 miles (except for that dreadful streatch behind Myrtle Beach).
I could meet you in McClellanville and you could ride as far as Bucksport. It is a very interesting and beautiful 50 miles.
Bill
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Sunday, 5th Sunday in Lent
Saturday was a day for the record book.
I have been having a hard time with the currents. Down in Georgia the currents reversed often because I was passing inlets, and moving across rivers which could be flowing in either directions. Here in South Carolina my route carried me in the same river longer distances,and with the help of current stations I could plan when I moved. Stopping for two hours Friday to wait for the current to subside turned out to be a really good move. When I stopped Friday night it looked like I would have good currents starting the day Saturday. I had opposing current for only about two miles to start with. Then things got better. To add to the pleasure it was a beautiful day, warm. sunny, with moderate wind from the south-east, behind me, not in my face like Florida and Georgia gave me. I zipped up the North Edisto with the flood current, then down the Stono with the ebb. It was beautiful. The only dark spot was that NOAA radio kept giving high wind alerts for that afternoon. There are two drawbridges in Charleston that don't open in high wind. my fall back action was to stop in Charleston for the duration. At the first bridge the wind was still a mild 15kts. I called the second bridge on the other side of the harbor and they said no problem, so I crossed the harbor with the genoa out, going 7 knots. It was glorious. Charleston, with its new bridge, is beautiful. Everything was beautiful, including my arrival at the second bridge 15 minutes early. It doesn't open but once an hour, and if I missed the 14:00 opening, well, NOAA was still calling for 25kt wind with gusts to 40. If I had to turn around at the bridge I would have to go against the wind to get back to the anchorage. About the time I got through the bridge the wind started picking up rapidly. Genoa out with the wind from my starboard quarter (from behind me on the right side). I was going up the ICW at more than 7 knots! Wonderful! The wind now maybe 20 knots and I was really making time. Even the current was with me. I was feeling really good when...Wham! I ran aground! When Advent hits a sandbar at 7 knots it is really spectacular. It doesn't slide up on the sandbar, it digs in, and stops, suddenly. The bow goes down, she turns into the wind, the mast dips dramatically forward and the stern rises. Bill, now what are you going to do? (That is the equivalent to the aviators expression:"And there I was...) I was sideways to the wind, with the wind and current pushing me onto the sandbar. I looked around, and yes, I was still in the channel. There was a channel marker nearby and I was about two boat lengths inside the channel. The problem was that the sandbar was in the channel too. With the boat leaning to the side onto the sandbar I furled the genoa, which was pushing the boat over, put the engine in reverse and gave it full power. Then to my amazement the boat backed back off the bar and into deep water. I waved thanks to a powerboat that was standing by, and went on my way, without the sail this time. Now that story did not have to had ended that way.
The next surprise was that the current did not reverse at Charleston. I just kept on going really fast, past my first planned anchorage, then the next five miles father, then past my last planned anchorage. The next was ten miles ahead. I got to that one and was still going in excess of 6 knots so I continued. At 19:15 I was still going 6 knots but the sun was going down. I pulled into a really good anchorage at McClellanville, the wind still howling. I had gone 75 miles.
Talking to Will a little later he told me that one of his test locations was just a dinghy ride from where I had anchored. I decided to delay my departure Sunday morning and go check out the location. He also told me about an indian pottery mound close by that is a national historic site. It is not publicized and is not well known at all. That is its protection. At daybreak Sunday morning I built the dinghy, and first things first I went into McClellamville to find the church. I dinghied into the shrimpboat lined harbor and found a boat ramp where I tied up. All I can say, is that at 9 o'clock on Sunday morning, in the early spring, McClellanville is stunningly beautiful. The wide roads, old well maintained lowcountry houses, live oaks, spanish moss, outdoes even the most romantic notion you may have of picturesque. Every road I walked down was bore beautiful than the last. There are sidewalks on both sides, and they are about 25 feet from the road, which gives a very spacious feel, but that doesn't stop the live oaks from making a canopy across the road. I came across a historical sign marking the birthplace of Archibald Rutledge, a writer and hero of mine whom I used to visit at Hampton, his family plantation. His wife was a Doar, and because of that I was always welcomed. The Doar family originated here, and St James Santee is the ancestral parish. It is a small church, about the size of Trinity Chocowinity. Two of the marble tablets on the wall carry the Doar name. I was welcomed, and felt at home, and the service was exactly what I wanted. The recessional was "Lift High the Cross" and I gave it all I had. It was wonderful. And I enjoyed mini-sandwiches, cucumbers and olives with others after the service. Nice folks. I forgot to say that on the dinghy ride in, I passed about six kayaks pulled up to a dry bank in the marsh with the people standing in a circle. We waved. (I tried to take a picture.) Two of those folks were at church. Afterward I walked around town some, then back to Advent. Changed clothes and off again to find Will's research test data location. He has them all over the SC coast. They are a benchmark set deep in the earth below the surface layer. He measures them periodically to examine ground level changes and seawater rise. And there are out in the marsh, mucky, sticky, bottomless goo. I found this one, got to it without sinking waist deep in the muck and took pictures. My respect for my son just increased. When I got back to high ground I went to find the indian pottery mound. Will calls it a midden. It looks like a shell bank seen beside the ICW, ordinary until you see the pottery shards. There seems to be definite red pieces and black pieces. Will said that it was not hot-fired, but rather sortta cooked over or near the fire. However they did it, it has lasted hundreds of years. I wonder,why there? It is just an ordinary island way out in the middle of the marsh.
Back to the boat (you would have laughed to watch me getting in the dinghy trying to not get my muddy boots in with me. Quite a trick.) Up anchor, and go the 10 miles to the South Santee. Home By the River.
Bill
I have been having a hard time with the currents. Down in Georgia the currents reversed often because I was passing inlets, and moving across rivers which could be flowing in either directions. Here in South Carolina my route carried me in the same river longer distances,and with the help of current stations I could plan when I moved. Stopping for two hours Friday to wait for the current to subside turned out to be a really good move. When I stopped Friday night it looked like I would have good currents starting the day Saturday. I had opposing current for only about two miles to start with. Then things got better. To add to the pleasure it was a beautiful day, warm. sunny, with moderate wind from the south-east, behind me, not in my face like Florida and Georgia gave me. I zipped up the North Edisto with the flood current, then down the Stono with the ebb. It was beautiful. The only dark spot was that NOAA radio kept giving high wind alerts for that afternoon. There are two drawbridges in Charleston that don't open in high wind. my fall back action was to stop in Charleston for the duration. At the first bridge the wind was still a mild 15kts. I called the second bridge on the other side of the harbor and they said no problem, so I crossed the harbor with the genoa out, going 7 knots. It was glorious. Charleston, with its new bridge, is beautiful. Everything was beautiful, including my arrival at the second bridge 15 minutes early. It doesn't open but once an hour, and if I missed the 14:00 opening, well, NOAA was still calling for 25kt wind with gusts to 40. If I had to turn around at the bridge I would have to go against the wind to get back to the anchorage. About the time I got through the bridge the wind started picking up rapidly. Genoa out with the wind from my starboard quarter (from behind me on the right side). I was going up the ICW at more than 7 knots! Wonderful! The wind now maybe 20 knots and I was really making time. Even the current was with me. I was feeling really good when...Wham! I ran aground! When Advent hits a sandbar at 7 knots it is really spectacular. It doesn't slide up on the sandbar, it digs in, and stops, suddenly. The bow goes down, she turns into the wind, the mast dips dramatically forward and the stern rises. Bill, now what are you going to do? (That is the equivalent to the aviators expression:"And there I was...) I was sideways to the wind, with the wind and current pushing me onto the sandbar. I looked around, and yes, I was still in the channel. There was a channel marker nearby and I was about two boat lengths inside the channel. The problem was that the sandbar was in the channel too. With the boat leaning to the side onto the sandbar I furled the genoa, which was pushing the boat over, put the engine in reverse and gave it full power. Then to my amazement the boat backed back off the bar and into deep water. I waved thanks to a powerboat that was standing by, and went on my way, without the sail this time. Now that story did not have to had ended that way.
The next surprise was that the current did not reverse at Charleston. I just kept on going really fast, past my first planned anchorage, then the next five miles father, then past my last planned anchorage. The next was ten miles ahead. I got to that one and was still going in excess of 6 knots so I continued. At 19:15 I was still going 6 knots but the sun was going down. I pulled into a really good anchorage at McClellanville, the wind still howling. I had gone 75 miles.
Talking to Will a little later he told me that one of his test locations was just a dinghy ride from where I had anchored. I decided to delay my departure Sunday morning and go check out the location. He also told me about an indian pottery mound close by that is a national historic site. It is not publicized and is not well known at all. That is its protection. At daybreak Sunday morning I built the dinghy, and first things first I went into McClellamville to find the church. I dinghied into the shrimpboat lined harbor and found a boat ramp where I tied up. All I can say, is that at 9 o'clock on Sunday morning, in the early spring, McClellanville is stunningly beautiful. The wide roads, old well maintained lowcountry houses, live oaks, spanish moss, outdoes even the most romantic notion you may have of picturesque. Every road I walked down was bore beautiful than the last. There are sidewalks on both sides, and they are about 25 feet from the road, which gives a very spacious feel, but that doesn't stop the live oaks from making a canopy across the road. I came across a historical sign marking the birthplace of Archibald Rutledge, a writer and hero of mine whom I used to visit at Hampton, his family plantation. His wife was a Doar, and because of that I was always welcomed. The Doar family originated here, and St James Santee is the ancestral parish. It is a small church, about the size of Trinity Chocowinity. Two of the marble tablets on the wall carry the Doar name. I was welcomed, and felt at home, and the service was exactly what I wanted. The recessional was "Lift High the Cross" and I gave it all I had. It was wonderful. And I enjoyed mini-sandwiches, cucumbers and olives with others after the service. Nice folks. I forgot to say that on the dinghy ride in, I passed about six kayaks pulled up to a dry bank in the marsh with the people standing in a circle. We waved. (I tried to take a picture.) Two of those folks were at church. Afterward I walked around town some, then back to Advent. Changed clothes and off again to find Will's research test data location. He has them all over the SC coast. They are a benchmark set deep in the earth below the surface layer. He measures them periodically to examine ground level changes and seawater rise. And there are out in the marsh, mucky, sticky, bottomless goo. I found this one, got to it without sinking waist deep in the muck and took pictures. My respect for my son just increased. When I got back to high ground I went to find the indian pottery mound. Will calls it a midden. It looks like a shell bank seen beside the ICW, ordinary until you see the pottery shards. There seems to be definite red pieces and black pieces. Will said that it was not hot-fired, but rather sortta cooked over or near the fire. However they did it, it has lasted hundreds of years. I wonder,why there? It is just an ordinary island way out in the middle of the marsh.
Back to the boat (you would have laughed to watch me getting in the dinghy trying to not get my muddy boots in with me. Quite a trick.) Up anchor, and go the 10 miles to the South Santee. Home By the River.
Bill
Friday, March 15, 2013
Friday15March
I just love the vast nothingness of the Georgia Marshlands. The channel twists like a snake, and sometimes it seems to turn back on itself. One time I saw a sailboat mast over the grasses. It was going the same direction I was going! How can that be? After a few turns of the channel we met. Where I first saw him the channel had turned all the way back and was parallel to itself. I want to go slowly, enjoy the aloneness, the tranquillity. I would love to linger, poke up into some of the side creeks, go ashore in the dinghy on one of the islands covered with palmettos. It is truly beautiful, a special place. Too bad for me the temperature was just above freezing and the wind blowing like stink from the north-west.
When the channel is wide I like to use the autopilot. It steers the boat for me. Having to stay at the helm is really the only uncomfortable thing about a trip like this. When the wind is from the strong with gusts it confuses the autopilot. A gust will hit and blow the bow off. The autopilot compensates, but when the gust stops the boat turns up and goes too far, and everything goes awry. So that complicates everything. All and all, the last few days has been sortta like backpacking. It has been hard and sometimes uncomfortable, but to me it is rewarding, and the good time is when, at he end of the day, the anchor is down and I retire to a warm cabin. I just wish I could share the entire experience.
The current really bothered me the first few days. It was always against me. Now I have figured out the pattern. It is either with me or against me depending on whether I am approaching an inlet or going away from an inlet, and whether the tide is rising or falling. But there are frequent current stations that predict the current, so I know what to anticipate. One day I had nine current reversals. It is impossible to co-ordinate those, so the thing to do is just live with it. When I know that there is going to be a long stretch, maybe five miles, I can time the currents, move when the current helps me and anchor when there will be five miles of bad current.
Yesterday I crossed the Savannah River into South Carolina, and it was like being home again. After five miles was Daufuskie Island, then Hilton Head where Grayson lived, and Beaufort and Bluffton where Will lived. This is one of Will's geologic areas. He was here last week doing his geology stuff. After this comes Edisto, where my father played when he was a boy, then the Holy City Charleston, where I went to school. Then Santee, where the Doar family originated, and the Waccamaw, a beautiful cypress swamp. I am looking forward to all of it.
Last night I stopped at Hilton Head. Frost warning on the radio. This morning it was cold, but almost no wind for a change, and it has been a spectacular day. I timed my entry into Port Royal Sound at the rising tide, and had good current helping me all the way up the sound, past Paris Island and Beaufort, up the Coosaw and Ashepoo. In the warming day and light wind I went 45 miles in seven hours. It was wonderful. Then I got to the Edisto, and everything stopped. Literally. The opposing current was so strong I was only going 2.5 knots speed-over-ground. So I anchored to wait out the current. It should turn around about 18:30, so I may just stay here for the night. No problem with that.
My only concern is the transmission drip. It seems to leak at about 150ml in three hours. So I stop every three hours, measure what has leaked out and add that much back in. At the end of the day I carefully read the actual level and get it to where it is supposed to be. The only time it is a problem is when the wind is blowing. The engine has to be off, and in the several minutes the process takes the boat can get in uncomfortable situations. But so far no problems. I will keep my fingers crossed.
Cocoa, Fla was 615 miles from Wilmington. Now I only have 220 miles to go.
Still smiling, and looking forward to rice 'n stuff for supper.
Bill
When the channel is wide I like to use the autopilot. It steers the boat for me. Having to stay at the helm is really the only uncomfortable thing about a trip like this. When the wind is from the strong with gusts it confuses the autopilot. A gust will hit and blow the bow off. The autopilot compensates, but when the gust stops the boat turns up and goes too far, and everything goes awry. So that complicates everything. All and all, the last few days has been sortta like backpacking. It has been hard and sometimes uncomfortable, but to me it is rewarding, and the good time is when, at he end of the day, the anchor is down and I retire to a warm cabin. I just wish I could share the entire experience.
The current really bothered me the first few days. It was always against me. Now I have figured out the pattern. It is either with me or against me depending on whether I am approaching an inlet or going away from an inlet, and whether the tide is rising or falling. But there are frequent current stations that predict the current, so I know what to anticipate. One day I had nine current reversals. It is impossible to co-ordinate those, so the thing to do is just live with it. When I know that there is going to be a long stretch, maybe five miles, I can time the currents, move when the current helps me and anchor when there will be five miles of bad current.
Yesterday I crossed the Savannah River into South Carolina, and it was like being home again. After five miles was Daufuskie Island, then Hilton Head where Grayson lived, and Beaufort and Bluffton where Will lived. This is one of Will's geologic areas. He was here last week doing his geology stuff. After this comes Edisto, where my father played when he was a boy, then the Holy City Charleston, where I went to school. Then Santee, where the Doar family originated, and the Waccamaw, a beautiful cypress swamp. I am looking forward to all of it.
Last night I stopped at Hilton Head. Frost warning on the radio. This morning it was cold, but almost no wind for a change, and it has been a spectacular day. I timed my entry into Port Royal Sound at the rising tide, and had good current helping me all the way up the sound, past Paris Island and Beaufort, up the Coosaw and Ashepoo. In the warming day and light wind I went 45 miles in seven hours. It was wonderful. Then I got to the Edisto, and everything stopped. Literally. The opposing current was so strong I was only going 2.5 knots speed-over-ground. So I anchored to wait out the current. It should turn around about 18:30, so I may just stay here for the night. No problem with that.
My only concern is the transmission drip. It seems to leak at about 150ml in three hours. So I stop every three hours, measure what has leaked out and add that much back in. At the end of the day I carefully read the actual level and get it to where it is supposed to be. The only time it is a problem is when the wind is blowing. The engine has to be off, and in the several minutes the process takes the boat can get in uncomfortable situations. But so far no problems. I will keep my fingers crossed.
Cocoa, Fla was 615 miles from Wilmington. Now I only have 220 miles to go.
Still smiling, and looking forward to rice 'n stuff for supper.
Bill
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Tue12Mar
Anchoring Mystery, and Surprise
Cold and rainy outside, warm and dry inside. Anchored (see adventtwo.blogspot.com "Location") and I just may stay anchored. They say that this rainy slop will pass and I may get going then, if I see that I can get to another good place to stop.
Anchoring is a black magic art. Everybody has opinions, and everybody is wrong. Just when I think I have done everything right something happens and I have to start thinking all over again. Yesterday I was in very shallow water, with very fast reversing currents. I put down about 70 feet of chain, and went to bed. In the morning I sensed something was wrong. The anchor chain had gotten wrapped around the keel. Instead of holding the boat bow to the current, the boat was sideways to the current, and it was not happy. She was oscillating back and forth and pitching sideways. (Does "pitching sideways" make sense?) There was spectacular turbulence downstream of the sideways boat. This happens frequently when using nylon anchor rode, nylon does not lay on the bottom as chain does, but I have never had it happen with chain. The problem is that with any current at all the boat will stay in that configuration. Getting it off the keel is a problem, and the anchor can not be pulled in until it is off. What is usually done is to lower a weight down the rode, and the weight will pull the rope off the keel. In my case I waited until the current slackened, and quickly, before the boat could drift with the current, let out about 50 feet of chain. It dropped nicely of the keel. Then my problem was getting the anchor up. The tremendous pull on the anchor by the boat being held in the current had set the anchor deeply into the bottom. It was finally freed by pulling the rode to up-and-down, and powering the boat forward. Even then it took several tries. And I don't know why it happened, or how to prevent it in the future.
I have been off the web ever since I left. I do have an outside wifi antenna that works very well in the Bahamas, but in the us most wifi systems are blocked. Sometimes there is a short time subscription available. Down in Cocoa, Fla. there were two subscription systems, and some possibilities of free connections. I tried them all, the whole time I was there. I finally went to the public library to do some US Power Squadron business. Still, everywhere I stop I give it a try. You just never know. Then, this morning, in the middle of Georgia marshland, I got a good fast hookup. Good enough to catch up on my email and listen to streaming BBC at the same time. I could even upload some pictures. After two pictures, however, it went away. I'll try again before I move on. The strange thing is that I can see for miles across the marsh in all directions. Way off in the distance there are red lights of towers, and there is the loom in the sky over probably Brunswick, but nothing else. I have no idea where it could be coming from. Look at my position, and select satellite for an aerial view. You will see what I mean.
By the way, you can help me shortten the distribution list by going to advent.blogspot.com then looking down on the right, and putting your email address where it says "Follow by email" then submit. Any update will be sent to you. Thank you, Normandie.
Woody, the picture of the dolphine teasing the dog, and the dog barking at the dolphine, the boat was a Monk 36, Peggy Sue. We have been playing leap frog all the way up.
When the rain passes I will move on, maybe.
Bill
Cold and rainy outside, warm and dry inside. Anchored (see adventtwo.blogspot.com "Location") and I just may stay anchored. They say that this rainy slop will pass and I may get going then, if I see that I can get to another good place to stop.
Anchoring is a black magic art. Everybody has opinions, and everybody is wrong. Just when I think I have done everything right something happens and I have to start thinking all over again. Yesterday I was in very shallow water, with very fast reversing currents. I put down about 70 feet of chain, and went to bed. In the morning I sensed something was wrong. The anchor chain had gotten wrapped around the keel. Instead of holding the boat bow to the current, the boat was sideways to the current, and it was not happy. She was oscillating back and forth and pitching sideways. (Does "pitching sideways" make sense?) There was spectacular turbulence downstream of the sideways boat. This happens frequently when using nylon anchor rode, nylon does not lay on the bottom as chain does, but I have never had it happen with chain. The problem is that with any current at all the boat will stay in that configuration. Getting it off the keel is a problem, and the anchor can not be pulled in until it is off. What is usually done is to lower a weight down the rode, and the weight will pull the rope off the keel. In my case I waited until the current slackened, and quickly, before the boat could drift with the current, let out about 50 feet of chain. It dropped nicely of the keel. Then my problem was getting the anchor up. The tremendous pull on the anchor by the boat being held in the current had set the anchor deeply into the bottom. It was finally freed by pulling the rode to up-and-down, and powering the boat forward. Even then it took several tries. And I don't know why it happened, or how to prevent it in the future.
I have been off the web ever since I left. I do have an outside wifi antenna that works very well in the Bahamas, but in the us most wifi systems are blocked. Sometimes there is a short time subscription available. Down in Cocoa, Fla. there were two subscription systems, and some possibilities of free connections. I tried them all, the whole time I was there. I finally went to the public library to do some US Power Squadron business. Still, everywhere I stop I give it a try. You just never know. Then, this morning, in the middle of Georgia marshland, I got a good fast hookup. Good enough to catch up on my email and listen to streaming BBC at the same time. I could even upload some pictures. After two pictures, however, it went away. I'll try again before I move on. The strange thing is that I can see for miles across the marsh in all directions. Way off in the distance there are red lights of towers, and there is the loom in the sky over probably Brunswick, but nothing else. I have no idea where it could be coming from. Look at my position, and select satellite for an aerial view. You will see what I mean.
By the way, you can help me shortten the distribution list by going to advent.blogspot.com then looking down on the right, and putting your email address where it says "Follow by email" then submit. Any update will be sent to you. Thank you, Normandie.
Woody, the picture of the dolphine teasing the dog, and the dog barking at the dolphine, the boat was a Monk 36, Peggy Sue. We have been playing leap frog all the way up.
When the rain passes I will move on, maybe.
Bill
Riding the currents - Sunday10March
At certain places along the coast, NOAA has installed current monitoring and prediction locations. Fortunate for me there is one near where I anchored in the St Johns River. It showed that there would be slack before ebb at 07:50. That means that at 07:50 the current would start being against me. I got moving before daylight, and sure 'nuff, the current helped me up the river a short distance and into Sister's Creek. At slow cruising RPM I was making 5.4 knots speed-over-ground. My hope was to make it 5 miles to the first anchorage before the current changed. Just as forecasted, at about 08:00 the current quite suddenly reversed. To see what would happen I did not change the RPMs. I was still about two miles from the anchorage. By the time I got to the anchorage the SOG went from 5.4 down to 2.9 knots. (still at slow cruising RPM). Anchor went down as planned. This gave me some good time to relax and do some chores about the boat. Four hours later, anchor up, and everything had changed. Even the wind and temperature was good. I swooshed up Sister's Creek, past Nassau Sound to Fernandina Beach and St. Marys Inlet at low tide. That the current changed to flood, and that carried us up the St Marys River, past King's Bay Submarine Base and up into the twisting snake-like marshes of Georgia, where the current again reversed and the speed went back down. In five hours 35 miles went under the keel. It was a delightful day, not only because of the favorable current, but it was a beautiful day, and there was even some sailing! Anchor down after a perfectly satisfying day. Cockpit shower and sundowners while the current boiled out from the stern. The boat has not been boiled out for its bottom cleaning and the knotmeter pinwheel is fouled so the knotmeter does not work. I would liked to have been able to see how fast the current was passing past the boat.
Yesterday, Saturday, was when all of northern Florida went for a boat ride. It was an unpleasant day; temp in the low 60's, overcast and dirty north-east wind. I think I saw more miserable women yesterday than I have ever seen. The guy proudly driving his center-console boat while the woman huddled on the floor behind him, on the only other seat in front of the windscreen, or beside him, trying to stay warm. Misery, misery and more misery. What a woman will do for love.... Come on dudes, what do you do to show your love for her?
The King's Bay Submarine Base is up the St Mary's River. The ICW goes up the river almost to the base, then un-obviously turns off. On a previous trip I missed the turn, and was turned around by a very formidable patrol boat. (That is a good time to say,"Yes sir".) Now there is an impenetrable gate with gunboats on both sides. Nobody wanders into Kings Bay any more!
Fortunately again there is a current station close by. Start tomorrow will be about 10:00, an hour before the slack. Then the ebb will help northward progress.
Bill
Yesterday, Saturday, was when all of northern Florida went for a boat ride. It was an unpleasant day; temp in the low 60's, overcast and dirty north-east wind. I think I saw more miserable women yesterday than I have ever seen. The guy proudly driving his center-console boat while the woman huddled on the floor behind him, on the only other seat in front of the windscreen, or beside him, trying to stay warm. Misery, misery and more misery. What a woman will do for love.... Come on dudes, what do you do to show your love for her?
The King's Bay Submarine Base is up the St Mary's River. The ICW goes up the river almost to the base, then un-obviously turns off. On a previous trip I missed the turn, and was turned around by a very formidable patrol boat. (That is a good time to say,"Yes sir".) Now there is an impenetrable gate with gunboats on both sides. Nobody wanders into Kings Bay any more!
Fortunately again there is a current station close by. Start tomorrow will be about 10:00, an hour before the slack. Then the ebb will help northward progress.
Bill
Friday, March 8, 2013
Friday08March
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| St Augustine anchorage |
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| dog barking at dolphins |
Bill
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Thursday07Mar2013
Back at home in Rockhouse Creek.
The weather has been colder on this trip, but I have not been colder. The temp was about 38 degrees this morning, with 12 maybe 15 knots of wind fron the north. 12 to 15 is not a lot, but motoring straight north into it makes 17 to 20 knots of cold wind, in the face, all day. Now it is time to close the conpanionway, fire up the heater, and warm up.
I will get someone ashore to relay these messages in order to shorten my distribution, so you may get the messages sooner if you go to adventtwo.blogspot.com. On that site you can also see the track, and some pictures. Remember, if you do want the messages sent directly to you, send me an email and simply say "yes".
Bill
The weather has been colder on this trip, but I have not been colder. The temp was about 38 degrees this morning, with 12 maybe 15 knots of wind fron the north. 12 to 15 is not a lot, but motoring straight north into it makes 17 to 20 knots of cold wind, in the face, all day. Now it is time to close the conpanionway, fire up the heater, and warm up.
I will get someone ashore to relay these messages in order to shorten my distribution, so you may get the messages sooner if you go to adventtwo.blogspot.com. On that site you can also see the track, and some pictures. Remember, if you do want the messages sent directly to you, send me an email and simply say "yes".
Bill
Re: Caframo Cruise - Thursday 09 July
In reply to your story about getting stuck in Rockhouse Creek near New Smyrna Beach and Ponce Inlet:
Sara and I spent several days anchored in Rockhouse Creek during our cruise. We had stopped in New Smyrna Beach municipal marina to effect repairs on our leaking fuel injector pump. Having arrived on a Friday, nobody was available to come look at it until the following Monday. The dock master suggested we go to Rockhouse Creek and told us where the deep water was so we could be closer to the beach. We followed his instructions closely and it was a good thing, for when the tide went out we discovered we were parked right next to a sand bar which was only exposed at low tide.
Click on this link to see the various tracks which are superimposed over an the aerial photograph. Each day is a different color and as you can see we went back and forth quite a few times. Twice between the marina and the anchorage and once as we headed back north near the end of our cruise. The ICW is at the left of the picture and proceeds to the bottom, and Ponce inlet is at the top. You can see where we rode out into the inlet just to check it out, and then we turned around. If you follow the light blue line from that day you can see we had to go all the way back to the ICW and head back North on the ICW to get back to the anchorage since the creek is only navigable for small craft using local knowledge. It is easy to understand why you grounded there, especially with a deep keel.
Enjoy!
https://www.dropbox.com/s/x68fvst3aalsfvh/Ponce%20Inlet%20and%20Rockhouse%20Creek.JPG
Sara and I spent several days anchored in Rockhouse Creek during our cruise. We had stopped in New Smyrna Beach municipal marina to effect repairs on our leaking fuel injector pump. Having arrived on a Friday, nobody was available to come look at it until the following Monday. The dock master suggested we go to Rockhouse Creek and told us where the deep water was so we could be closer to the beach. We followed his instructions closely and it was a good thing, for when the tide went out we discovered we were parked right next to a sand bar which was only exposed at low tide.
Click on this link to see the various tracks which are superimposed over an the aerial photograph. Each day is a different color and as you can see we went back and forth quite a few times. Twice between the marina and the anchorage and once as we headed back north near the end of our cruise. The ICW is at the left of the picture and proceeds to the bottom, and Ponce inlet is at the top. You can see where we rode out into the inlet just to check it out, and then we turned around. If you follow the light blue line from that day you can see we had to go all the way back to the ICW and head back North on the ICW to get back to the anchorage since the creek is only navigable for small craft using local knowledge. It is easy to understand why you grounded there, especially with a deep keel.
Enjoy!
https://www.dropbox.com/s/x68fvst3aalsfvh/Ponce%20Inlet%20and%20Rockhouse%20Creek.JPG
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Caframo Cruise - Thursday 09 July
Woody Cooper sent me a message, in part saying that Rockhouse Creek is one of his favorite anchorages. Below is a letter I wrote about my adventures in Rockhouse Creek four years ago. I was going to send it only to him, but I think it is a good letter, so will send it to everybody. Note that it was written four years ago.
(I need to shorten my distribution list for what I send over winlink. You can go to adventtwo.blogspot.com and get these letters. Or, if you prefer, I can arrange to continue to get them sent directly to your email. I didn't even ask most of you if you wanted them to start with. If you do want the letters sent to your email, please let me know, by sending me an email saying simply "yes". And please don't send this message back to me.)
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Caframo Cruise - Thursday 09 July 2009
Sailing about four miles off the beach, St Augustine to Fernandina (on the Ga state line), 5.5 knots, beam reach, main prevented, genoa poled, the Windpilot is steering.
It is hard to write while doing the ICW. If everything is going OK I am moving at first light and keep moving until dark. There is no time to write. So one day runs into another and things I could write about drift into the past.
I have raced sailboats, and I enjoy that, but when you start a day of racing you pretty well know how the day is going to go, and where you are going to sleep that night. The thing that I like so much about cruising is that each day is different. I never know what is going to happen, where I am going to sleep, or even if I am going to sleep.
A few days I was anchored in the Mosquito River. It was a good anchorage, but there was something disappointing about it. The cruising guide said to be prepared for lots of bugs. None. What a disappointment. No bugs. (As a matter of fact, the entire Caframo Cruise has been almost entirely bug free. Oh yes, we have had some now and then, but nothing like I have experienced during other trips to Florida) I sat on the foredeck till dark. It was beautiful. In the distance to the south I could see the big NASA assembly buildings at the Kennedy Spaceflight Center. It messed with my brain. Here I am, aboard a sailboat which has been a mode of transportation for humanity for thousands of years, definitely low tech, and I can see the world's center of spaceflight. I found that very disconcerting.
The next morning I was preparing to depart when the Coast Guard announce that they were clearing the NASA security zones. That meant that there was a launch coming up. What luck! I really do want to see a launch. I wanted to see an Apollo launch and missed all of those. Now was my chance to see a space shuttle launch. After getting all excited I called a brother-in-law and asked him to check the internet and find out the time of the launch. To my disappointment it would not be for several days. Waiting for the answer did give me a chance to wash some dirty shirts. That calls for four buckets. The first has the soap, the others sequentially cleaner rinse water. With shirts pinned to the life line I upped anchor and headed north.
I like to use the genoa when I am motoring to add a little speed. The wind that day was very erratic, a hard gust that would make Advent II heel over, then calm, or from ahead, making the sail luff. The sky was cloudy with thunderstorms in the forecast. I had wanted to go offshore from New Smyrna Beach to St Augustine, and when I got to New Smyrna Beach I poked around some trying to figure out how to get to the ocean. On the chart there are three channels, no channel markers shown. The thunderstorm that the Coast Guard had been warning about hit, and I lost control of the variables. I can handle shallow water. I can handle fast current, and I can handle a thunderstorm, but I put myself in the situation of having to handle all three at the same time.
It was the kind of thunderstorm that turns tables over and blows trash containers down the street. After it died down I built the dinghy (named "Goodness") and put her in the water, loaded her up with the biggest Danforth anchor and 200 feet of 5/8" rode. With a 14 foot boat hook I found where the deep water was and put down the anchor. I took a strain on the anchor to tend to align the boat toward the anchor, and sat down to wait for the tide to come in. (Boating Rule #1: Always run aground at low tide.) About an hour later someone hailed me from a small boat alongside. His name is John, and had seen me go aground from his home, just across the ICW. We talked awhile, he invited me to, after I got floating agaain, to tie to his pier, fill up with water, have a real shower, etc. He said he had a boat with 250 horse power, and if I had trouble getting off at high tide he would come pull me. With a parting handshake he buzzed back over to his house. Just then Normandie called, and while we talked I noticed that Advent II had turned toward the anchor just a little. I pulled in the anchor rode a few inches, and ten minutes later the boat had turned some more. After that it was just a matter of pulling a little and waiting a little. In about 30 minutes I was floating again. No harm was done, and I had a good conversation with an interesting person. I circled a bit to make sure that I understood where the deep water was, and dropped the anchor for the night. I did not accept any of John's offers. I was just happy that he looks out for people like me.
After my swim and shower I settled with a gin-n-tonic on the foredeck. Another sailboat had joined me in the creek. The couple had the mainsail down, and were fussing with the clew. They fussed and fussed. After maybe 20 minutes I got the binoculars to see what they were doing. I could see it plainly as they were only about three boat lengths away. They were fussing with the clew! Then after awhile they started fussing with the tack. I got another drink and they fussed away. By the third drink they were trying to raise the sail, and were fussing with that. This had been going on for an hour and a half. Finally they got the sail up, and tried to furl it into the mast, and they started fussing with that. I was heading below to see if there was any tonic left, when to my amazement, they pulled the right strings, and the sail furled in the mast as neatly as one could wish for. I stood there in stunned surprised, when both of them turned toward me, and both gave me a grand theatrical bow. I applauded and shouted "Bravo!" It had been quite a show. I later learned that the sail had "blown out" on the way down. A sail maker had repaired it and this was the first time the repaired sail with new mast furling hardware hand been rigged. More nice people.
The sun was setting, and then is when it happened - I felt the first itch. I couldn't see what was itching me. That's right, no-see-ums, wejins, sand flies, call them what you want, but my interesting day turned into the most miserable night I have ever spent aboard Advent II. It was too hot to be covered with a sheet, thousands of critters crawling on my body if I exposed any part outside the sheet, body slimy with ineffective repellant, misery waiting for dawn.
So that was one interesting day. Most do, but not all have happy endings. That is part of what an adventure is all about. Run a lot of these together and it starts to affect your attitude on life. And in a way, I am not really concerned with where I will sleep tonight.
Bill
(I need to shorten my distribution list for what I send over winlink. You can go to adventtwo.blogspot.com and get these letters. Or, if you prefer, I can arrange to continue to get them sent directly to your email. I didn't even ask most of you if you wanted them to start with. If you do want the letters sent to your email, please let me know, by sending me an email saying simply "yes". And please don't send this message back to me.)
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Caframo Cruise - Thursday 09 July 2009
Sailing about four miles off the beach, St Augustine to Fernandina (on the Ga state line), 5.5 knots, beam reach, main prevented, genoa poled, the Windpilot is steering.
It is hard to write while doing the ICW. If everything is going OK I am moving at first light and keep moving until dark. There is no time to write. So one day runs into another and things I could write about drift into the past.
I have raced sailboats, and I enjoy that, but when you start a day of racing you pretty well know how the day is going to go, and where you are going to sleep that night. The thing that I like so much about cruising is that each day is different. I never know what is going to happen, where I am going to sleep, or even if I am going to sleep.
A few days I was anchored in the Mosquito River. It was a good anchorage, but there was something disappointing about it. The cruising guide said to be prepared for lots of bugs. None. What a disappointment. No bugs. (As a matter of fact, the entire Caframo Cruise has been almost entirely bug free. Oh yes, we have had some now and then, but nothing like I have experienced during other trips to Florida) I sat on the foredeck till dark. It was beautiful. In the distance to the south I could see the big NASA assembly buildings at the Kennedy Spaceflight Center. It messed with my brain. Here I am, aboard a sailboat which has been a mode of transportation for humanity for thousands of years, definitely low tech, and I can see the world's center of spaceflight. I found that very disconcerting.
The next morning I was preparing to depart when the Coast Guard announce that they were clearing the NASA security zones. That meant that there was a launch coming up. What luck! I really do want to see a launch. I wanted to see an Apollo launch and missed all of those. Now was my chance to see a space shuttle launch. After getting all excited I called a brother-in-law and asked him to check the internet and find out the time of the launch. To my disappointment it would not be for several days. Waiting for the answer did give me a chance to wash some dirty shirts. That calls for four buckets. The first has the soap, the others sequentially cleaner rinse water. With shirts pinned to the life line I upped anchor and headed north.
I like to use the genoa when I am motoring to add a little speed. The wind that day was very erratic, a hard gust that would make Advent II heel over, then calm, or from ahead, making the sail luff. The sky was cloudy with thunderstorms in the forecast. I had wanted to go offshore from New Smyrna Beach to St Augustine, and when I got to New Smyrna Beach I poked around some trying to figure out how to get to the ocean. On the chart there are three channels, no channel markers shown. The thunderstorm that the Coast Guard had been warning about hit, and I lost control of the variables. I can handle shallow water. I can handle fast current, and I can handle a thunderstorm, but I put myself in the situation of having to handle all three at the same time.
It was the kind of thunderstorm that turns tables over and blows trash containers down the street. After it died down I built the dinghy (named "Goodness") and put her in the water, loaded her up with the biggest Danforth anchor and 200 feet of 5/8" rode. With a 14 foot boat hook I found where the deep water was and put down the anchor. I took a strain on the anchor to tend to align the boat toward the anchor, and sat down to wait for the tide to come in. (Boating Rule #1: Always run aground at low tide.) About an hour later someone hailed me from a small boat alongside. His name is John, and had seen me go aground from his home, just across the ICW. We talked awhile, he invited me to, after I got floating agaain, to tie to his pier, fill up with water, have a real shower, etc. He said he had a boat with 250 horse power, and if I had trouble getting off at high tide he would come pull me. With a parting handshake he buzzed back over to his house. Just then Normandie called, and while we talked I noticed that Advent II had turned toward the anchor just a little. I pulled in the anchor rode a few inches, and ten minutes later the boat had turned some more. After that it was just a matter of pulling a little and waiting a little. In about 30 minutes I was floating again. No harm was done, and I had a good conversation with an interesting person. I circled a bit to make sure that I understood where the deep water was, and dropped the anchor for the night. I did not accept any of John's offers. I was just happy that he looks out for people like me.
After my swim and shower I settled with a gin-n-tonic on the foredeck. Another sailboat had joined me in the creek. The couple had the mainsail down, and were fussing with the clew. They fussed and fussed. After maybe 20 minutes I got the binoculars to see what they were doing. I could see it plainly as they were only about three boat lengths away. They were fussing with the clew! Then after awhile they started fussing with the tack. I got another drink and they fussed away. By the third drink they were trying to raise the sail, and were fussing with that. This had been going on for an hour and a half. Finally they got the sail up, and tried to furl it into the mast, and they started fussing with that. I was heading below to see if there was any tonic left, when to my amazement, they pulled the right strings, and the sail furled in the mast as neatly as one could wish for. I stood there in stunned surprised, when both of them turned toward me, and both gave me a grand theatrical bow. I applauded and shouted "Bravo!" It had been quite a show. I later learned that the sail had "blown out" on the way down. A sail maker had repaired it and this was the first time the repaired sail with new mast furling hardware hand been rigged. More nice people.
The sun was setting, and then is when it happened - I felt the first itch. I couldn't see what was itching me. That's right, no-see-ums, wejins, sand flies, call them what you want, but my interesting day turned into the most miserable night I have ever spent aboard Advent II. It was too hot to be covered with a sheet, thousands of critters crawling on my body if I exposed any part outside the sheet, body slimy with ineffective repellant, misery waiting for dawn.
So that was one interesting day. Most do, but not all have happy endings. That is part of what an adventure is all about. Run a lot of these together and it starts to affect your attitude on life. And in a way, I am not really concerned with where I will sleep tonight.
Bill
Tuesday05March2013
Happily anchored in the harbor at Cocoa, Florida. Warm inside the boat, outside it is 34 degrees with strong gusty wind. The radio said it was 31 degrees in Melbourne last night. Other than the weather, this is a great place. A good anchorage, good convient dinghy dock, and a three block walk to the bus stop where, for a dollar, I can ride to Sears, West Marine, Publix supermarket, WalMart, even to the beach. I just about have everything except the internet, which I did have while anchored in Rockhouse Creek up at Ponce de Leon Inlet.
Update on shakedown:
The transmission fluid leak does not seem to be getting worse, and I have developed a method of dealing with it. About every four hours I empty the cup and measure how much leaked, and the engine hour meter reading. Then add however much leaked out. It seems to be about 100ml/4 hours. If it starts leaking more I will know it. I do not think I am harming the transmission, and everything will be OK as long as the rate of leaking does not increase.
For ocean sailing a lot of boats have an additional track on the mast that carries a sail smaller than the mainsail. Typically this smaller "tri-sail" is used in heavy wind, and to reduce wear and tear of the big mainsail. Ten years ago I added the additional sail track. The added track is stainless steel, the mast aluminum and the rivets attaching it are aluminum. Now, ten years later, the rivets are failing. About six have pulled out. This is easy to fix, but the equipment to do it and the rivets are home. In the meantime I need to take it easy with the tri-sail.
Advent II was made in France in 1980. That was early in the era of popular yacht building. The term "yacht" meaning a pleasure boat instead of a work boat. In 1980 things were not standardized. In this case it is the track on which the mainsail is attached to the mast. It is a "T" shape which stands out from the back of the mast. The sail has attached "C" shaped slides that go around the "T" and slide up. Those "C" shaped slides are plastic, 30 years old, and over the years several have broken. I had a box of spares and would replace them as they broke. I have tried to find replacements and have been told by sailmakers that in the '80s, before standardization, the makers tried lots of things, and if it is not available now it no longer exists. When my box of slides is empty I will have to do something else. I broke three last summer, and four on the way down. I only have two left. It is time to do something else.
So with everything considered I have aborted the Bahamas trip, and will start making my way back to Normandie, North Carolina. (Why would you think that Normandie was in France?)
PS and by-the-way: The web site: adventtwo.blogspot.com is doing what we wanted it to do. It has pictures, my location, and these letters I write are automatically posted. You can even click something that tells the web site to send you an email whenever I post something. It seems to be working. So taking that into consideration, I need to shorten my distribution list for what I send over winlink. You can go to adventtwo.blogspot.com and get these letters. Or, if you prefer, I can arrange to continue to get them sent directly to your email. I didn't even ask most of you if you wanted them to start with. If you want the letters sent to your email, please let me know, by sending me an email saying simply "yes". And please don't send this message back to me.
Bill Doar
Update on shakedown:
 |
| Cocoa anchorage |
For ocean sailing a lot of boats have an additional track on the mast that carries a sail smaller than the mainsail. Typically this smaller "tri-sail" is used in heavy wind, and to reduce wear and tear of the big mainsail. Ten years ago I added the additional sail track. The added track is stainless steel, the mast aluminum and the rivets attaching it are aluminum. Now, ten years later, the rivets are failing. About six have pulled out. This is easy to fix, but the equipment to do it and the rivets are home. In the meantime I need to take it easy with the tri-sail.
Advent II was made in France in 1980. That was early in the era of popular yacht building. The term "yacht" meaning a pleasure boat instead of a work boat. In 1980 things were not standardized. In this case it is the track on which the mainsail is attached to the mast. It is a "T" shape which stands out from the back of the mast. The sail has attached "C" shaped slides that go around the "T" and slide up. Those "C" shaped slides are plastic, 30 years old, and over the years several have broken. I had a box of spares and would replace them as they broke. I have tried to find replacements and have been told by sailmakers that in the '80s, before standardization, the makers tried lots of things, and if it is not available now it no longer exists. When my box of slides is empty I will have to do something else. I broke three last summer, and four on the way down. I only have two left. It is time to do something else.
PS and by-the-way: The web site: adventtwo.blogspot.com is doing what we wanted it to do. It has pictures, my location, and these letters I write are automatically posted. You can even click something that tells the web site to send you an email whenever I post something. It seems to be working. So taking that into consideration, I need to shorten my distribution list for what I send over winlink. You can go to adventtwo.blogspot.com and get these letters. Or, if you prefer, I can arrange to continue to get them sent directly to your email. I didn't even ask most of you if you wanted them to start with. If you want the letters sent to your email, please let me know, by sending me an email saying simply "yes". And please don't send this message back to me.
Bill Doar
Friday, March 1, 2013
Cargo Ship
Today I watched a cargo ship depart.
I was thirteen years old when Daddy took me over to NC State College to a lecture and display on Vanguard, the first satellite program for the United States. It really excited me. I had grown up with Flash Gordon, and had gone with my family to the Morehead Planetarium in Chapel Hill to see a presentation on humans going to the moon. I remember graphically the high g force encountered while accelerating upwards. I remember the night I it was announced that the Soviets had put Sputnik in orbit. Vanguard suffered two spectacular failures and the US was still not in space. Eventually it did go, and is still in perfect orbit. We abandoned trying to do it perfectly and switched to Army missiles made to deliver warheads, and started being successful matching the Soviets. I remember Kennedy's speech about putting a man on the moon "in this decade". I was older and understood the ramifications of that, and how difficult it was. I was right there listening to the countdowns for the one man Mercury program and Alan Shepherd's first orbit, the two person Gemini program, and the death's of Grissom, Chaffee, and Young on the launch pad. I stood in the canteen at The Citadel watching live television of the first pictures of the back side of the Moon. I was seeing it at exactly the first time as any person had ever seen it. At the NASA facility near Huntsville Alabama I witnessed the test firing of one of the Saturn engines. Wow! Then, of course, The Apollo program. I watched the pictures of Neil Armstrong as he stepped on the surface of the Moon. For 20 seconds or so they were broadcasted upside down, which caused momentary confusion. When the Apollo program was ending, that I wanted to witness the last launch of what was the most powerful machine mankind had ever made. The space program had been part of my experience since I was thirteen. I knew at the time I would regret not going to the trouble to witness the last launch. I also knew at the time I would regret not witnessing the launch of the last space shuttle. Now our space program has entered a new phase. Satellites are routine and there is a permanent space station. Today I witnessed the launch of a rocket, loaded with supplies for the space station, not by NASA but by a private commercial company. Space travel is now routine, and is now in the private sector.
A local radio station carried the countdown. Everything was there, live from mission control. "On internal power" "All systems go" "T minus 10, 9, 8..." "Lift off, we have lift off" I had tears in my eyes reliving those launches so long ago. It was just as I remembered. The fireball disappeared in the clouds and all I could say was, "Wow!... Wow!...... Wow!" I had lived the era of extraterrestrial space development, from the first hopes of a satellite, to commercial, routine launches. Wow! Just Wow!
Now anchored at Cocoa, Florida, as in Cocoa Beach, where the early astronauts, those with the right stuff, would go to play.
Please go to adventtwo.blogspot.com click "Location" at the upper right, to see where I am.
Bill
I was thirteen years old when Daddy took me over to NC State College to a lecture and display on Vanguard, the first satellite program for the United States. It really excited me. I had grown up with Flash Gordon, and had gone with my family to the Morehead Planetarium in Chapel Hill to see a presentation on humans going to the moon. I remember graphically the high g force encountered while accelerating upwards. I remember the night I it was announced that the Soviets had put Sputnik in orbit. Vanguard suffered two spectacular failures and the US was still not in space. Eventually it did go, and is still in perfect orbit. We abandoned trying to do it perfectly and switched to Army missiles made to deliver warheads, and started being successful matching the Soviets. I remember Kennedy's speech about putting a man on the moon "in this decade". I was older and understood the ramifications of that, and how difficult it was. I was right there listening to the countdowns for the one man Mercury program and Alan Shepherd's first orbit, the two person Gemini program, and the death's of Grissom, Chaffee, and Young on the launch pad. I stood in the canteen at The Citadel watching live television of the first pictures of the back side of the Moon. I was seeing it at exactly the first time as any person had ever seen it. At the NASA facility near Huntsville Alabama I witnessed the test firing of one of the Saturn engines. Wow! Then, of course, The Apollo program. I watched the pictures of Neil Armstrong as he stepped on the surface of the Moon. For 20 seconds or so they were broadcasted upside down, which caused momentary confusion. When the Apollo program was ending, that I wanted to witness the last launch of what was the most powerful machine mankind had ever made. The space program had been part of my experience since I was thirteen. I knew at the time I would regret not going to the trouble to witness the last launch. I also knew at the time I would regret not witnessing the launch of the last space shuttle. Now our space program has entered a new phase. Satellites are routine and there is a permanent space station. Today I witnessed the launch of a rocket, loaded with supplies for the space station, not by NASA but by a private commercial company. Space travel is now routine, and is now in the private sector.
A local radio station carried the countdown. Everything was there, live from mission control. "On internal power" "All systems go" "T minus 10, 9, 8..." "Lift off, we have lift off" I had tears in my eyes reliving those launches so long ago. It was just as I remembered. The fireball disappeared in the clouds and all I could say was, "Wow!... Wow!...... Wow!" I had lived the era of extraterrestrial space development, from the first hopes of a satellite, to commercial, routine launches. Wow! Just Wow!
Now anchored at Cocoa, Florida, as in Cocoa Beach, where the early astronauts, those with the right stuff, would go to play.
Please go to adventtwo.blogspot.com click "Location" at the upper right, to see where I am.
Bill
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