Desperate Measures

The birds have been horrible of late. The Grackles, or at least what I believe to be Grackles, have been getting bolder and louder. They make a terrible mess everywhere they sit, particularly when purple berries are in season, and seem to delight in tracking their feces all over Alana's decks, hatches and rails. I'd start shooting them, but I think I'd be arrested before I could make a noticeable dent in their population. Rather than scrub the boat every day, I have adapted a neighboring boat's method of discouraging the birds. Instead of the tin plates and aluminum foil they use, I have suspended 49 CDs above Alana's decks and boom. The discs twirl and flash in the sun, creating quite a disco effect which I hope the birds will find annoying. Of course their will be no strobe effect at night or on cloudy days, but if the birds only stay away on sunny days, I'll be satisfied. If the experiment continues to produce encouraging results, I'll work on a way to get some CDs up above the spreaders, a favorite Grackle hangout. A plastic owl might also help, particularly at night and on those cloudy days. As you can see by the malignant look in his eye, I have a determined enemy, one not likely to be deterred forever by some harmless twirling CDs.

Still Freakin' Cold!

Cabin Boy here, filling in for Cap'n Dave. I've been offered the chance to blog rather than do dishes, and have jumped at it.

Today (Saturday) began much like the day before, and the day before that: biting winds, a hurried nature call over the downwind rail, then back to the warmth of my sleeping coccoon while water heated for a shower (thanks to Cap'n Dave, who had been up for a bit) and coffee brewed (ditto). What was different this morning was the presence of the lovely Jessica, who arrived last evening to supply us with cheese, chocolate-covered pretzels, and other essentials. Haystacks for dinner was another of the day's highlights, but the real event was our Coast Guard helicopter fly-by, organized by Jessica. While the helicopter circled overhead, we did our best to not give the appearance of being in distress. Fortunately, Barry had his flare gun taken away just as he was about to either signal for help that we didn't need or blow the helo out of the sky.

After breakfast, Jessica headed back to Savannah, and Alana headed south past Tybee Island and out on the big detour that would take us around the extensive shallows between here and Savannah. Until we had to turn northward into the Wassaw Sound, it was fine sailing, making 5-6 knots on just the genoa over quite flat water, and the sun shone most of the day. If only it had been warmer. Cap'n D saw a porpoise jump well clear of the water, and I saw a sea gull defecate.

Tonight we're anchored in the Wilmington River about 45 minutes from home. We'll time our arrival at Isle of Hope to arrive with favorable tides tomorrow morning, and spend the rest of the day warming up and doing a bit of sightseeing in Savannah.

Cold, Wet, Windy & Fun

Yesterday, my brother Mike, who now lives in Boulder, joined me for a few days of local sailing. It dawned cold and rainy, but since we were locked into a schedule we left Isle of Hope as planned and made our way out to sea via Wassaw Sound. We cleared the sound and headed up the coast to Port Royal Sound, dropping the hook just east of Parris Island before sunset. We encountered 25-26 knots of wind, plenty of rain and unexpectedly cool temperatures en route, so were pretty beat. Rather than some sort of gourmet feast, we enjoyed a couple of cans of Steak & Potato soup sprinkled liberally with cheese, then headed almost immediately to bed. It was too cold for lounging about and we both appreciated the warmth of our sleeping bags.

After a good night's rest (about 11 hours worth) we woke to clear, sunny skies. The wind was still fresh and forecast to strengthen, so we opted to transit to Calibogue Sound via the ICW rather than the usual ocean route. The northwesterly wind direction allowed us to sail most of the way, so we didn't feel too wimpy for having taken the "old person" route, and we were anchored in time for a latish lunch (turkey subs again).

Following lunch we took the dingy out to test some recent repairs to the outboard. Happily, it ran fine so Jessica will be able to join us for dinner tonight. She's driving up from Savannah and we'll be picking her up at Harbor Town Marina via dingy.

For some reason I'm unable to upload pictures, but will do so at a later date when we have a stronger internet connection.

Back to the Swamp

We sailed from our harbor Town anchorage at high tide this morning and enjoyed a smooth sail south to Tybee, then southwest to Wassaw Sound and north into the Wilmington River. We were pleased to find a horseshoe crab clinging to the anchor chain when we weighed anchor. It clung tenaciously to the chain and did not seem particularly shy. We are presently anchored in 21 feet of water about 300 feet from a muddy marsh. I understand that the morass of muck and grass I see is a "wetland," something to be cherished and protected, but it looks like a dismal swamp to me. So far we have not been molested by bugs and there is a gently breeze to keep things comfortable. I'm going to stay up until the current switches from flood to ebb, just to watch the fathometer and ensure we don't swing into a shallow spot.

Barry has been keeping a low profile for most of this trip, but this morning Jess awoke to find him reaching under her covers. Luckily for Barry she did not tell me until much later, or Barry might have received the beating he deserves.

Tomorrow morning we'll again weigh anchor and motor the last 4.5 miles to Isle of Hope Marina where we'll give Alana a quick washdown. Jess has a lot of studying to do, so the bulk of the cleanup will have to wait until Monday. We've both enjoyed this trip, at times anyway, and I at least, am looking forward to doing it again soon.

Chillin' and Repairin'

Today involved a couple of repairs as well as some relaxation (if you consider Jessica studying emergency procedures to be relaxing). After breakfast we planned to head out in the dingy, just to explore a little and to give the motor some exercise - we all know that motors do not like to sit idle. Alas we discovered that the motor (6hp, 4-stroke Mercury) wouldn't come above idle before it would cough and die. We traced the problem to gum in the carburetor, doubtless the result of sitting for months in the sun without having had the bowl drained (I discovered the convenient drain plug too late). We cleaned out what we could and put everything back together, then tested the motor. It seemed OK, revving effortlessly to red line, but once we cast off and really put a load on the motor we found that it was still afflicted. We puttered, and I DO mean puttered, the mile or so to Harbor Town Marina, figuring that they would surely carry the carburetor cleaner we needed to make a proper repair, but found that they did not. Leaving the marina for the trip back, the motor became weaker and weaker, eventually stalling as we left the channel. We managed to row back to ALana, a feat which was a little trickier than it sounds due to the 2-3 knots of current that threatened to push us past the boat. We managed to grab onto Alana as we swished past and resolved to spend the rest of the day aboard.

Once aboard, we turned our attention toward discovering the source of the stench that had periodically been filling the boat. It turned out that some wasps had built a nest in the through-hull fitting for the sewage tank vent. As the vent was clogged with mud, the gasses were forced to vent through the toilet, burping noxious odors into the interior. We managed to blow the wasp nests out of the vent line with a garden hose and are now back to relaxing, free from the funky odors which have plagued us. Barring the need for an unforeseen fix, we plan to spend the rest of our day enjoying what can be enoyed aboard a 37-foot boat at anchor. Hopefully the band will be playing again in Harbor Town. We'll be treated to some live tunes while supping on chicken, rice and bean "stoup," bathed in the light of a full moon.

Shaking the Wasps Out

This afternoon, my fiance Jessica and I sailed from Isle of Hope (where Alana has languished for the past 100+ days) to Hilton Head. We are now anchored off Harbor Town, listening to the musical stylings of a nameless musician drift across the water. His Bob Dylan is spot-on; the Journey can use some work. We are also being treated to the huffing and puffing of porpoises as they patrol the anchorage.

Today's sail was largely uneventful. We did discover that a family of wasps had built mud nests in the masthead as well as in a fold of the sail. These nests fell to out freshly scrubbed decks as soon as we hoisted the main. For much of the way we were shadowed by flocks of pelicans which apparently mistook Alana for a fishing vessel. Jessica squealed and hid her face whenever they passed close and up wind, however, there were no direct hits, just a couple of close calls.

Diver Down

Alana's bottom got a good cleaning and inspection this morning. Scott Boyd, a former Coastie that now works for the fire department and dives part time, cleaned and inspected Alana's underwater body, cleaned off a small amount of growth, removed accumulated gunk from the through-hulls and replaced the propeller zinc. "Replaced" may not be the right word as there was no zinc to replace. "Installed" would be a better verb. I have apparently waited too long to get the divers into action and the zinc which mounts to the aft side of the propeller hub has completely dissolved. I hope no real damage to the propeller has resulted. I was happy to learn that the Micron Extra bottom paint is still holding up well after a year and a half. We have been hoping that new bottom paint can wait until Spring, and it looks like that is the case.

Jessica and I have been planning a short sailing trip next week, assuming that her job and looming hurricanes don't intervene, so it will be nice to know that a dirty bottom will not slow us down.