Author: Trip von Hoffmann (Page 3 of 3)

Going our separate ways Friday, we went back to Rockland as our friend Meghan was coming up to spend the weekend with us. She drove up from Boston on Saturday morning and we managed to get groceries and have lunch in between a few wicked thunderstorms that passed through.

Cocktail hour started on the boat, which morphed into grilled cheese sandwiches and soup for dinner (it may be August, but it’s Maine and it’s dropping into the 50’s at night!), followed by Baileys on ice in the cockpit while we looked plaintively for the Perseid meteor shower (turns out we were a couple of days early for the height of the meteor shower and it’s not likely to be as good this year because it coincides with a nearly full moon which will drown some of them out).

Next morning, after lots of coffee, bacon and wild Maine blueberry (the tiniest, juiciest, best berry you will ever taste) pancakes, we headed off to Beech Hill Preserve. Just a few miles north of Rockland, it’s a beautiful hike that leads to a stone hut with a sod roof surrounded by blueberry shrubs overlooking Penobscot Bay. What a beautiful location!

The hike was short, so as we headed back into town we detoured to the path going out to the Rockland Lighthouse. It’s nearly a mile long walk each way over a granite boulder breakwater, but the views were fabulous and it was fun to visit a place we had sailed by so many times (and could currently see from the boat).

After both hikes our legs were telling us we needed a break, so we stopped by the Landings Marina Restaurant for sandwiches that featured their killer bacon (slabs more like ham, home smoked). We finished that off with ice cream, and Meghan headed home. A great, but too-short visit.

After a fun afternoon & evening in Belfast, we headed south the next day to Warren Island on Isleboros west side to meet up with Tanqueray again. I knew that Looma IV was leaving Camden tomorrow, so I let them know where we were heading and they messaged that they would join us there too.

Trip and I picked up Viviane in the dinghy and we went ashore for a short hike around the island to get some exercise. There’s multiple campsites which you get to via kayak, canoe, or small motorboat, but the trails gave the campers plenty of privacy when we walked by.

We got back to the boat and battened down the hatches as the skies opened up that night. There was thunder and lightning along with torrential rain that lasted for hours. Snug and warm down in our cabin, all I could think of were the campers on the island. We later ran into one of them whose canoe had filled with water and sank (including his outboard!). He was forced into paddling back across the bay. His comments about the storm: “It was pretty cool to watch the lightning the first few hours, but then with all the rain, it got old really fast”.

Looma IV sailed in the next day and we hosted cocktails on board to introduce Mads & Lotta to Lawrence & Viviane. Even though we all planned on leaving the next day, we agreed to an early hike together on the island the next morning.

We woke to crazy but typical Maine fog, and I managed to get some really good shots of Looma IV. Luckily it burned off in time for a nice walk around the island, including sampling of the local wild raspberries.

The winds were just right and we had heard too many times how great Belfast was, so we decided to visit. It was a slow, easy jib run from Pulpit that turned into a wicked, fun jib run (7.2 knots under half a jib) as the winds picked up far beyond the predictions in the afternoon.

We got lucky and got a mooring just off the main town dock. Belfast is described as Maine’s largest small town and they live up to it. Relatively compact, easy to walk, beautiful to look at, the hardest part was leaving some of the local shops and picking a place to eat amongst all the options. We settled on Rollie’s, a local institution, and had a great meal at the bar. We picked up some good local cheeses at a local shop, and then headed to the local co-op, which the town is famous for. Organic vegetables, fair trade coffees, artisanal breads, reasonable prices – what a dream.

My only complaint is that our cell service has been horrible. We switched to Google Fi in February so as to avoid international charges when we travel, and the coverage had been excellent and much more affordable than our old plans. Unfortunately, Maine is the test. The phones work just fine in cities like Portland and Rockland, but we’ve hit utter dead zones in Camden, North Haven, and now Belfast. Luckily we had wifi from the Harbormaster’s office in Belfast, and ironically we have great coverage under sail in the middle of Penobscot bay, but the lack of coverage in towns is becoming rather frustrating.

Pulpit Harbor is one of the great overnight stops in Penobscot Bay. We avoid it on the weekends (too busy with crowds from Rockland and Camden), but we got in Sunday afternoon after a great beam reach run across the bay. We dropped anchor and then proceeded to watch a boat from Massachusetts attempt to anchor not one, or two, but five times. Poor anchoring technique and faulty crew (not letting the anchor set and gunning the engine) made things difficult for them, but they finally anchored in a spot where if they dragged, it wouldn’t be down on us.

Lawrence and Viviane arrived a couple of hours later and we had a lovely cocktail hour aboard Tanqueray. Then it was back on board to start dinner, alternating with popping up into the cockpit to watch the spectacular sunset.

The next morning we watched more anchoring mishaps, as a trio of Canadian sailboats took forever to up anchor, (more importantly) clean the mud off the chain, and manage their dinghies as they left the harbor. We opted to stay another day, so after a morning row Trip set up the sailing rig on the dinghy. We sailed down to the public dock and went for a walk to explore a bit of North Haven, stretch our legs, and check out the local grocery store.

We got back to the boat to find a sailing mega yacht named Thistle anchored next to us. Over cocktails in our cockpit with Lawrence and Viviane, we watched what appeared to be a high end engagement party on Thistle (or that’s the story I made up).

Natalie left, we cleaned up the boat and did laundry, re-provisioned, and suddenly it was my birthday! It was hot, by Maine standards anyway, so we ducked into the Farnsworth Art Museum for an air-conditioned visit. I wasn’t particularly impressed with some of the newer exhibits (paintings from the 1950’s of every day life just don’t do it for me), but we loved the Wyeth exhibit of painters grandfather NC, father Andrew, and son Jamie, especially as much of the art was from local Maine spots which we’ve visited recently, such as Monhegan.

For lunch we managed to snag a spot at Café Miranda, one of the more popular local restaurants and where we’d had dinner two years ago (still just as delicious). After that, it was back to the boat and a chance to welcome friend Lawrence, who was on his way back from his solo sailing adventure to Canada. It was a blast to catch up with him on all of his recent sailing stops. We plan to spend a bit of time with him and Viviane when she arrives in two days for her summer vacation.

We had seen the documentary Maiden about Tracy Edwards and the all female crew in the 1989 round the world Whitbread sailing race back in Boston in June, and had actually met Tracy at a Q&A after the screening. It was showing again up in Rockland, so we talked Lawrence and Viviane into going. It was just as good the second time around, and we capped off the evening over hearty meals at a local Italian restaurant.

Leftover jambalaya hash (w/ Rubarama) & scramble eggs

It was only 70 miles from Wrightsville Beach to Beaufort, but it was a long day given that we were only doing 3 knots when we left under such light winds. Of course, they picked up, and by mid afternoon we were reaching 8 knots under ½ jib only. Despite the rollers, it was slack tide and we sailed into Beaufort, dropping anchor just past the Coast Guard station.

Beaufort boat restoration center

Beaufort is a cute little coastal town. It’s a long dinghy ride from the anchorage, but the alternative (town anchorage) was way too crowded and I’m glad we opted to dinghy in. We walked the main docks and visited some of the local stores. There was a mobile library book stand (trailer) set up in a parking lot that allowed us to stock up on Stuart Woods and Carl Hiaasen books for the rest of the trip. After that it was off to the local brew pub and then Mexican (what else?) for lunch.

Stormy weather

We had debated staying later and trying one of the two fancier restaurants for dinner, but Trip was a bit anxious about the weather, so we headed back. Good thing, as just an hour after we got back the skies darkened. Soon enough the winds were howling in the 40’s, lightning was striking everywhere, and the rain was pouring. The anchor held beautifully, and the storm passed, though not without a few deep breaths on my part.

More stormy weather

Monday we opted to stay on the boat as the forecast was lousy all day. Turns out we could have easily headed back into town for the day, but that night brought torrential rains again. We thought we were leaving Tuesday, only to have our plans thwarted by a weather trough hitting a front and stalling off Cape Hatteras. Our weather router said we didn’t want to be anywhere near the cape Tuesday night or Wednesday morning, as he was predicting up to gale force winds near the trough (very messy sailing indeed). So it was another day of tucking into new books, pouring over weather reports, doing projects and waiting again.

Calm after the storm

Lunch from the Burger Boat on the docks before we left

Tuesday afternoon we were off again. What a rolly ride. Winds were in our favor coming from behind, but the seas were tossing us all over the place. I made chicken noodle soup from scratch with small bits of leftover, and then proceeded to dump half of it during a really big roll. I had just poured it in a bowl, and was pouring the second bowl, when the roll came and I watched the first slide across the counter and spill. The only good thing I can say is that at least it spilled into the sink, so there was nothing much to clean up. Trip graciously agreed to share the remaining bowl of soup and we sucked it down.

Savannah waterfront property

Despite the roll we had multiple visits from dolphins. Trip is still convinced they’ve been coming by just to prove how much faster they are than us, but I don’t care. At one point we had an entire pod – several mothers and calves. They swam with us for well over a half hour and we hung out at the bow watching them.

Shrimp season! They took as many picture of us sailing by as we did of them

We were originally heading for the Little River inlet on the south side of Cape Fear, but realized with the great speed we were doing (high winds from behind are always welcome) we would get into there much too early, so we opted to go out around the Frying Pan Shoals of Cape Fear and up into Wrightsville Beach on Thursday afternoon. We found a great spot to drop the hook just a few minutes inside the inlet. Very expensive area, with mega million dollar homes stacked on top of each other and lots of expensive motor boats. The next day we went exploring the town. They have a lovely long beach with plenty of dunes (though at this point, we’ve seen quite a few beaches). We grabbed fried shrimp for an appetizer at King Neptune’s, and then shared an order of chicken enchiladas at the local Mexican restaurant. And then it was back to the boat to rest before getting under way again.

Sunset over Money Point

Sunrise, sunset, it all blurs together after a couple of days

Four hundred miles to Savannah, our longest run yet, just the two of us! We left Tuesday morning, motoring out of Man o’ War Cay, and set sail for the US. The first two days were pretty uneventful, with the exception of the thunderstorms that formed around us every evening. Nothing ever hit us, but it was always unnerving to watch the sheet lightning passing back and forth between the clouds, followed by a bolt down to the water every once in a while.

The Gulf Stream definitely helped us zip along, but unfortunately at some point the winds shifted from the southeast/southwest to the west and then the stream wasn’t much help as we motorsailed and bashed into it. The engine stopped just outside Wassaw Sound, one of the entrances to Savannah. The good news is that we had been anticipating this might happen, and had the jerry jugs ready to dump the spare 10 gallons of diesel in. Close to shore, the seas had calmed so Trip was able to get the diesel fuel in with little problem. Despite the engine being a self-bleeder (to get the air out), Trip had to help it along and bleed it before it would fire back up smoothly.

Skidaway River

Master mixologist Karen at work while Lyle looks on

The passage up the Wilmington & the Skidaway rivers was the longest, partly because of how tired we were and partly because of the tide being against us. We called the Isle of Hope Marina where we had reservations and they said they closed at 5:30 (when we were due to arrive), but they’d keep someone around to wait for us. I anxiously watched our speed and was happy to report we got there at 5:35. The dockhands got us secured to the dock (sweet spot on the fuel dock facing out the way we’d leave since it’s now low season and most transients have passed through). Customs came out to clear us back into the US and we were officially and legally back in native lands.

Low country boil birthday party

Friends Clark and Karen came to collect us for dinner. We hadn’t had Mexican food in months and that was their usual Friday night fare, so off we went. These two were the perfect welcoming committee, as they’re former boat owners themselves. They were kind enough to let me do piles of laundry, including our pillows which were getting a bit grungy from our greasy salty heads hitting them one too many times. And I cannot tell you how strange it was to sleep in a regular bed on land!

Ice cream!!!

The next day we headed to more friends Lyle (crew from our offshore run) and Christine and Christine’s mother, Karen. It was Lyle’s birthday and he decided to celebrate with a low country boil. Shrimp season had just started and it was the best way to celebrate being in the south as well as a birthday!

Baby peacocks & mom at Clark & Karen’s

We ran a bunch of errands the next day, stocking up on liquor, food, hand held anemometer (measures wind speed since the one on our mast doesn’t currently work), and another diesel jerry can. We had already topped off water and fuel at the marina, and were a bit alarmed to realize we had gone through all but 3 gallons of fuel motoring in against the tide for so many hours. Another 5 gallons would always be a good insurance policy and the new jerry can fit on deck nicely with the other two.

Kalyra under sail

The day before we left Spanish Wells, another boat pulled into our mooring field. Unfortunately, he came in during a massive downpour (we had just returned our golf cart and were standing under a roof, waiting to make a dash up the road for lunch without getting drenched). Fortunately, the downpour eventually ended and we met our new neighbor. Simon is a Brit who’s lived in Sarasota for the last 25 years running a successful café. More importantly, he owns a 1979 Cabo Rico, an absolutely stunningly beautiful boat. The Cabo Ricos are of a similar age and design as the Tayana 37 with classic lines and a long, cutaway full keel that makes for solid sailing, if not the speediest.

s/v Reverie and Captain Simon

Simon had taken on bad fuel in one tank and had spent hours and hours working on the engine instead of being able to enjoy being in the Bahamas on a sailboat. He managed to limp into Spanish Wells to get clean fuel, and over sundowners we realized we were moving in the same direction, up to the Abacos. We decided to do a bit of buddy boating the next day.

Simon is sailing solo, and the northern exit from Spanish Wells is a bit of a tricky one, going through several coral reefs. Some people hire pilots to guide them through, but we talked to the wife of one of the local pilots and she reassured us that we should be able to do it on our own, since it was settled weather. We waited till the sun was high enough, and then headed out with Simon just behind us. Putting our new headsets on again, I perched on the bow and called out reefs. It wasn’t as bad as I had worried, but Simon admitted that he had felt much better being able to follow us through without incident.

Hope Town, Abacos, Lighthouse

Once pointed to the Abacos, Simon set full sail and slowly pulled away from us as we were  under jib only. We had a moment:  We were doing less than 4 knots, and were only going to pick up speed by putting up the main. The mainsail? Don’t remember it. Haven’t seen it, much less used it in 2 months when we were back in the Virgin Islands. Would we remember all the details of hoisting it? Luckily, the sail was still in good shape and hoisted up easily enough (a little harder to do than just rolling out the jib – I had to put some muscle into it). We were soon enough back in the low 5’s and soon caught up to Simon and pulled just a little bit ahead. Of course, we both took the chance to take some great pictures of each other.

We anchored that night just behind Lynyard Cay with great protection, good holding, and just a few other boats in the vicinity. Simon popped over for sundowners and mentioned that he had been studying the charts and there was a marine park just north of us, on our way to Hope Town. It sounded like a good plan.

We got up the next morning and headed 3 miles north to drop anchor behind Sandy Cay at low tide. Simon picked us up in his dinghy and in just a few minutes we were on a mooring over the reefs. The snorkeling was very physical (even at slack tide there was a serious current) but the reefs were fabulous. Sea fans were everywhere and fish were swimming in and out of the coral heads. Diving would have been better to escape some of the current, but it really was great snorkeling. The two highlights were the black tipped shark and the sea turtle – neither of which get old when we’re in the water!

Bahamian architecture

A shower to rinse off the salt and a bit of lunch later, we were moving on to Hope Town. The Sea of Abaco isn’t as peppered with coral heads that warrants me standing on the bow with a headset, but shifting sands and shallows required a bit of active sailing, changing course multiple times to get to the anchorage. There were some crazy thunderstorms running parallel to us that we kept our eyes on, but nothing ever came close. (I think we’re a bit paranoid since recent friend Matthew reported being hit by lightning last week and losing all of his catamaran electronics). We dropped anchor off Parrot Cays at the end of the day, enjoyed our usual sundowners (Trip fell asleep, but we didn’t care because Simon and I were too busy talking about food), and made plans for the next day.

More Bahamian architecture

Sunday was a bit quiet in Hope Town, and it is low season, but it’s a remarkably charming place. We stopped at the Lighthouse Marina first to do a bit of laundry and walk up to the iconic red/white striped lighthouse that can be seen for miles. Then we headed across the harbor and wandered around, enjoying the tiny colorful cottages. We wound up at the Harbor’s Edge for lunch on the covered patio looking over the harbor. We’re hooked on the conch chowder (despite eating it in 90 degree heat) and I decided to try the cracked conch – very tasty!

Monday morning we got up and started with our usual routine of listening to our weather router, Chris Parker. Our original plan had been to do two or three day sails working our way over to Great Sale Cay (further north and west along the Abacos) and then to wait for our weather window. Imagine our surprise when Trip consulted with Chris who said, “I would leave tomorrow, from Hope Town direct to Savannah.” The weather window looks really good, with only one day (tomorrow) forecasting any significant squalls which should be short and hopefully will bring rain and not wind. All of the winds the next three days are coming from the southeast, exactly the opposite direction of where we’re heading. It’ll be a little light, but I’m not complaining if we have to motor a bit here or there!

Bike-riding selfie

So Trip loaded diesel jerry cans into the dinghy and I made a final provisioning list. We snagged Simon on the way and headed back into Hope Town where we rented bikes. (At $12 a day per person, it wasn’t worth the effort of getting ours out from under our v-berth.) With great biking paths (the ‘highway’ is really built for golf carts rather than standard cars or trucks) we headed as far south as we could get and enjoyed the views from both the Sea of Abaco and the Atlantic side. We stopped at Gaffers for a drink and a break (biking mid-day in the sun is haaaaaard work), and then continued back north again. We stopped at the six or so boutiques on the island, but I really couldn’t find anything I like (between Bahamas and St Barths, I really can’t justify spending $25-45 on a tshirt!) so it was on to lunch. We pulled up to Wine Down Sip Sip (awesome name) just 10 minutes before they stopped serving lunch. We hurriedly put in orders and then sat back to wait. The cheesey doo (cheese dip) and flatbread pizzas didn’t disappoint.

Trip and Simon

At that point we had to say farewell to Simon. Damn, you’d think with the number of times we get to know someone quickly and then say goodbye while cruising, it would get easier, but it doesn’t! Simon headed off and we turned back to return our bikes. After that it was a quick visit of the Hope Town Historical Museum (nice, but I much preferred Spanish Wells), a bit of provisioning (I’m hooked on the Sands Radlers (beer mixed with grapefruit soda)), and it was back to the boat. We had wanted to stop at the lighthouse again to actually go up this time, but the skies were threatening to open (as they do every afternoon), so we hustled back. Dinghy is up, outboard secured, Trip is pondering his charts, and I’m debating how early to start dinner before we sit down with the last of our Netflix downloads tonight.

It’s a very bittersweet moment. The next country we clear into will be the good ol’ US of A. Though we won’t be home until a couple of weeks after that (does take a bit to wind your way up the coast during summer weather), this is the first ‘end’ to this adventure……Reflections on that later.

So long Bahamas, Savannah here we come!

New friend – continuously visited the boat for 2 days!