Bill, Alison, Mike & Rob

We had a smooth and easy sail to Charleston. We left Miami on Wednesday morning and, with lots of help from the Gulf Stream, were cruising past Fort Sumter by noon on Friday.

The conditions conspired to give us an easy trip:  the seas were calm, the current gave us a 3 knot boost, and the sky was blue with the occasional huge cumulus clouds. While we often saw rain and lightning storms off in the distance, they thankfully stayed in the distance. With little rocking and rolling, we were able to make hot oatmeal and fruit each morning and great dinners (thanks to Alison and Rob!) each evening. We saw less wild life than past trips, with only one sea turtle and a few dolphins, but a rather sinister-looking submarine did cut across our bow.

Our big excitement was flying Archie’s new asymmetrical spinnaker. Bill found the spinnaker in Marblehead and we lugged it down with us to Florida. (Because it was a few pounds over the weight limit, the JetBlue ticket agent kept asking us, couldn’t we take something out of the bag to reduce the weight? We kept responding, not unless you want us to tear the sail into two pieces.) Because we had never flown a spinnaker on Betty Ann and needed to make a lot of decisions about how to rig it, we weren’t too sure what was going to happen when we hoisted the sail. But lo and behold it was a thing of beauty.

In Charleston, we pulled up to the city marina’s so-called Megadock (about a mile long) and nestled ourselves in among the mega-yachts with their hired crew, chandeliers and acres of teak. One of our behemoth neighbors even had a stern that opened up to reveal another 20 foot motor boat sitting inside, like something out of a James Bond film.

Once in Charleston, the thunderstorms caught up to us. Sitting below sea level, it doesn’t take much to cause the city to flood. On our way to sightsee one afternoon, we had to walk an entire block, shoes in hand, through a foot of water. Archie, always in the right place at the right time, got photographed by the Charleston Post and Courier as he waded through the flood.

Rob, Alison, Bill and I flew back on Sunday morning. Archie’s new crew arrived on Monday and departed for Point Judith on Tuesday morning under sunny skies. Hopefully they will have as smooth seas as did we.

As planned, we changed our plans. Rather than Marathon, we are making a day of it in South Beach in Miami. We could find worse ports to wile away a sunny day.

We were trying to cut through the Florida Keys near Marathon in yesterday’s day light, but it didn’t quite work out. We consequently had a pretty adventurous evening. As we approached the Keys early Sunday evening, we were weaving around sand banks, following a complicated path dictated by the charts. At one point, we were consulting four different sources: a guidebook, NOAA charts on my iPad, the ChartPlotter, and the old fashioned paper charts. Thankfully, with GPS capabilities today, we were always able to tell exactly where we were. Of course, the problem was that where we were was really, really shallow. Indeed, for several miles, we were in only 6 feet of water, worrisome for a boat whose draft is 5 feet, 3 inches.

By the time we got to the most complicated S curve through several sand bars, we were in complete darkness. Archie used the iPad charts to bark out orders (e.g., “3 to 4 more degrees to Starboard, now!”). Somehow, we made it through without touching bottom once.

We were not so fortunate at the top tip of the boat. As we headed under the 65′ vertical bridge under U.S Route 1, the antenna on top of our 63′ mast hit the bridge. Fortunately, no harm was done.

Because we would have arrived in Marathon late at night, we decided to just continue on through the night to Miami. We arrived this morning and have spent the morning washing the salt and seaweed of the boat, making some small repairs, and sleeping. This afternoon, we’ll go swimming and then head out to Lincoln Road for dinner.

On Sunday, May 25, Archie starts his journey north, setting sail from Bradenton, Florida and making his way over two weeks to Point Judith, Rhode Island. If I count correctly, this will be his 11th Spring journey north from Florida.

Archie’s current plan (always subject to weather, mechanical problems or whim) is to do the trip in two legs:  Bradenton to Charleston, Charleston to Point Judith. He’ll fly down to Bradenton on Saturday, May 24 and get the boat ready for his crew (i.e., fluff the pillows, chill the champagne). His first crew (Rob, Alison, Bill and yours truly) arrives late Sunday morning.  We’ll do a speed run through a grocery store (arguing about how many diet cokes are necessary for 7 days on the water) and then ship out as early in the afternoon as possible.

Our goal will be to sail down the western coast of Florida and cut through the Florida Keys before darkness falls on Monday, May 26. Most years, Archie makes a pilgrimage to Key West, his personal Mecca (but with booze and Jimmy Buffet music). This year, he’s tight for time, so we’ll shave off a day or so by cutting through the Keys at Marathon. Marathon is about two-thirds of the way down the Keys. The trick to cutting through is that Florida Bay, on the inside of the curve of the Keys, is really really shallow. There is a channel, all of 6 or 7 feet deep, that leads through the Bay for miles. Needless to say, we’d like to get there in daylight.

Assuming we are not wedged in the sand in the middle of the Bay, we’ll spend Monday night in the harbor at Marathon. Rumor is, Marathon has great Cuban coffee. From Marathon, we’ll sail to Fort Pierce on Florida’s east coast, where hopefully the crew will be allowed a few hours of shore leave before making the final push to Charleston. If all goes according to plan, we’ll make Charleston by Saturday, May 31, flying back to our land lives on Sunday.

Archie’s second crew (Jim G., Stephanie, Jim B. and Eric) will meet him in Charleston. If the weather forecast is good, Archie will head round Cape Hatteras and make a break for New England. If the forecast is not so fine, he’ll head up the Intracoastal Waterway to the Chesapeake, where he’ll decide again whether he can make a beeline home to Point Judith.

Having now described the spring trip plan, the dose of reality is that circumstances almost always throw a wrench in the plan. On previous voyages, wind and rain, propellor shaft, starter, and even a broken helm have all gotten in the way of the best laid plans. The only thing we can count on is that it will be an adventure.

Today’s post is by Bill W-R, a faithful crew aboard the Betty Ann. Bill hasn’t missed a north or south trip from or to Florida since her inaugural trip back in Spring 2004. He provides the entertainment. Thanks, Bill, for sending in the post.

I should warn readers:  Take everything Bill says with a grain of salt. A very big grain of salt.

This entry into the blog is a bit unusual. I greatly enjoy Mike’s entries that recall with logbook precision the trips and crews; or recount warm, pleasant evening shifts or surprising discoveries on the East coast; or that provide an idealized introduction to the members of the crew. This entry does contain some drivel, but more importantly, it contains tips on how to get the most out of your voyage on the Betty Ann. It is written for opportunists by an opportunist.

Sailing on the Betty Ann is an event I look forward to all year long. I count the months, weeks and days until the next trip. Whenever I feel that my normal life is getting too routine or too full of the tedious problems, I mentally transport myself to the cockpit of the Betty Ann, and wander off to thoughts of life aboard:  choosing the next harbor, discussing the most enjoyable route to take, recounting the special places we have visited in the past, hailing the dolphins playing in the bow wave, and wondering who is likely to next screw up the settings on the chartplotter by inserting his own waypoints or changing “north up” to “course up.”

Sailing on the Betty Ann is like entering a parallel universe. The everyday world still exists at work and at home, but for a week, the setting, the characters and the plot are entirely new and predictably enjoyable. Archie is always cheerful and remarkably able to pick up the slack where lesser, sick or tired sailors stumble. Mike and Alison will always create the next gourmet meal. And Rob will provide a steadying, uncomplaining and willing-to-do-anything presence. And adult supervision for any adolescents on board.

The most paradoxical thing about sailing on the Betty Ann is that it can be both relaxing and exciting at the same time. Below are a few suggestions on how to enhance those two benefits of a trip aboard the Betty Ann.

Relaxing

Prepare for Sea Sickness:  Some of us are prone to sea-sickness (at least I am) and a little medication is a good idear. There is nothing that disrupts the relaxing nature of a trip more than that queasy feeling. Be sure to bring along your preferred motion sickness medicine. (Some have a more soporific effect than others.) Before leaving the dock, pull out the medication. CAREFULLY READ THE INSTRUCTIONS. DETERMINE THE APPROPRIATE DOSE. Then triple it. You won’t get sea sick; you won’t have to do much work. If you play it right, the only time you will be awoken is for meals and your night shifts. Remember:  this is a forgiving crowd you are sailing with, and they can’t make you get out and walk.

Control the Berths:  While at dock, all that you really need to think about is maximizing the distance from the snorers, and staying away from the head. While being near the head has some benefits, there are two downsides. If someone flushes the toilet, you think your head has been unscrewed and placed inside a jet engine. And if someone closes the head door without being really, really careful, it issues a loud, sharp report that makes you think you have just been dismasted. And that’s never relaxing. (NOTE:  The berth in the bunkroom extends to extra width, has a firm cushion and allows you privacy. If you can snag it, do so.)

When you are underway, choosing the best berth gets a little more complicated. When reaching, make sure you get a leeward berth. (This may require some finagling with the watch schedule, but more on that later.) You can try to do this by leaving a lot of junk on the leeward berth (safety harnesses, books, tools, food, clothes, etc.) and this will hopefully cause someone to take the windward berth. When the time comes for your hours off, you can throw the stuff on the floor and jump into the leeward berth. If someone already has the leeward bunk, wait until they go to the head, jump in it and pretend you are sound asleep. May work, may not. Depends who is trying to dislodge you. And whether you’ve publicized your triple dose of Dramamine.

When beating to windward, you once again want a leeward berth. The berths in the main salon are the best under these conditions as they are closest to the center of motion of the boat and have the least pitching movement. While the berth in the bunkroom is okay, its being forward of the boat’s center means you will feel some pitching. When beating to windward, absolutely avoid the forward most cabin (a.k.a. the Queen’s Quarters). It becomes a defective anti-gravity chamber. One moment you are in the air and escaping the forces of gravity. A second later, you make the hard descent. Over and over. If someone you dislike is in the queen’s quarters, crack the forward hatch when they aren’t looking. You will enjoy their reaction when you hit the next big wave.

Staying Stimulated

Control the Betty Ann’s Provisioning:  During the night watches, caffeinated diet coke is critical. The sugared coke gets you a little too revved up to go back to sleep when your watch ends.

While Archie is the nicest, most generous captain in the world, he can be impish when provisioning without supervision. Besides getting canned peas, he will buy non-caffeinated diet coke and pretend it is what you asked for. He sometimes produces a shopping list that includes a notation for a six pack of non-caffeinated diet coke that he claims you requested in an email. Givemeabreak.

Be generous in the amount of diet coke you ask Archie to buy for the boat. Mike claims he drinks only one can a day. But the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree. Build in at least six cans of diet coke a day for Mike. If he doesn’t drink that much, you can cover for the prodigal son by discreetly drinking the surplus.

Hide the diet coke. It may sound selfish, but it’s not. It’s all-important that one person on board be capable of jumping into action and taking command in an emergency. It might as well be you. Having plenty of sleep and a ready stash of diet coke is crucial to put you in a place where you can save the others on board. Make the sacrifice.

Speaking of hiding the diet coke, remember that the social order on the boat can break down quickly and you never know when people are going to start hoarding food. Beat them to the punch. Keep a list of where you are stashing stuff, as it can be hard to recall, particularly if you have hidden a lot. Archie is always hiding the Pepperidge Farm cookies and leaving the stale Oreos for others. If you feel a little guilty about hiding food, don’t. You’re just following the captain’s example.

Put STARBUCKS or PEETS on your request list. Archie will buy Maxwell House or second hand coffee if left to himself. Coffee should be considered something you only make if you are tied up at a marina. If someone tries to brew coffee during the night keep an eye on him. The fact that he wants to do it indicates he is very tired. You don’t want him firing up one of the stove’s burners and placing the plastic-bottomed percolator on it. Stinks up the cabin and makes for gross coffee. Been there.

Control the Watch Schedule:  This is the most complex and delicate task in keeping the trip stimulating. Who you spend your night watch with means that the late night bonding opportunity will either be a stimulating conversation or a throw-yourself-overboard moment.

Start by deciding who you want to share your watch with and who you don’t. Then create some logic that makes it look like you developed the watch list objectively. You may need to run through a number of scenarios. Start with something simple like developing a watch list alphabetically. Alison and Archie; followed by Archie and Bill; followed by Bill and Mike; followed by Mike and Rob; followed by Rob and Alison. That particular watch list would make me move on to another apparently “logical” approach. Perhaps develop the list by age. If that doesn’t work, the appearance of objectivity becomes harder. Second letter of peoples’ home town address? Favorite pet’s name? When worse come to worse and nobody is trusting you anymore, volunteer for the 2 am to 6 am shift. You may be able to salvage some credibility because no manipulative opportunist would put himself on that watch. Or at least that’s my argument.

On shore stimulation should also be remembered. The Bean in Oriental, NC is the best coffee shop on the East coast. Cuban coffee from the bodega at South Beach Marina is also good.

There are a few other tricks that will guarantee a relaxing and stimulating trip. They are for sale.

When sailing into a new port each evening, often in need of food, supplies or repairs, you sometimes have to rely on the kindness of strangers. On our trips north and south each year, Betty Ann’s crew spends a lot of time in the Intracoastal Waterway in the South, where fortunately folks tend to be very generous, even to us Yankees.

Archie, practicing “the look” at a young age

Repeatedly, we have been offered cars and trucks so that we could get groceries, dinner, or marine supplies. It’s a mystery why people let us drive off in their most valuable possessions, but Archie sure can put on the face of a saint. In Buck’s Harbor, Maine, we went to the town’s most popular restaurant (okay, the town’s only restaurant, but it was really popular) on a Saturday night without a reservation and of course they couldn’t seat us. Archie gave that sweet “no problem not your fault but what shall we do?” look with the doe eyes and before you know it, the hostess is foisting her car keys on him, telling him about a great restaurant just 10 miles away.

In Belhaven, North Carolina, upon asking where the closest grocery store was, we were lent a golf cart. Picture four of Betty Ann’s crew bumping down the breakdown lane of a highway on our way to get groceries.

But an odd scenario has played out now, three times, no less, when we have borrowed vehicles in the Carolinas.

The first time, we had sailed into Englehard on Pimlico Sound in a very rural area of North Carolina. As it turned out, the only marina in the tiny little harbor had just reopened after major repairs from a hurricane, and we were literally the only boat in the entire marina. As we stepped onto the dock, we realized that, while boaters had not yet arrived, the seabirds had. The docks were slick with bird guano. Lots of it. Eating on the boat didn’t seem so appetizing, so we asked the marina manager whether there were any restaurants in walking distance. He said the nearest restaurant was five miles down the road, but he was happy to lend us his pickup truck. After much, “oh no, we couldn’t” demurrals, we took him up on his offer. And then, just as we headed off in the truck, he came running after us, yelling, “wait, wait, I forgot something,” and then sheepishly reached under the front seat and pulled out a handgun. (Later that evening, after a great meal at a local place in the boondocks, our provocateur crew Bill W-R jumped out at every gas station on the way back to the boat asking for a cup of cappuccino and the New York Times. Amazingly, we made it out of Englehard alive.)

Provocateur

A year or so later, the exact same handgun trick happened again in Beaufort, North Carolina:  a kind Samaritan ran after the car and grabbed his gun from under the front seat just as we were headed off to find diesel filters. And then, remarkably, it happened a third time to Dad and his friend Bob at a marina along the Intracoastal Waterway in northern North Carolina, between Coinjock and Chesapeake City. Feels like the plot of Groundhog Day set in the parking lot of an NRA convention.  

The lesson? Southern hospitality is alive and well in the Carolinas. Indeed, everywhere we go, people are incredibly generous. However, even the most generous folks may be hiding a secret under their front seat.

Archie, in the first of many borrowed vehicles?

Denny, Archie & Jack

It’s Christmas time, so excuse me if I get a bit sentimental. Archie’s big adventure onboard Betty Ann would not have been possible the last ten years without his friends.

Margie and Church

Fortunately, Archie and his late wife Betty Ann always had a talent for friendship. As children, our parents were never at home on weekend nights. And we still can’t keep up with Dad socially.

I’m not sure his friends imagined that they would spend their later years crewing on a sailboat. But crewed they have. And partied in Newport, Nantucket, Block Island, Manhattan, Charleston, Miami and Key West. Archie has never been all about work. You gotta have fun.

Bill, Rob, Mike, Archie, Rick & Alison

Each trip south to Sarasota or north back to Point Judith typically requires ten or so crew (3 or 4 crew for each of 3 weeklong legs). Archie has been joined by friends from all stages of his life. He and Bob G. hunted as teenage boys and nearly 70 years later sailed through a storm off New Jersey. Long time friends Ron, Jack O., Church and Margie, Jack H. and Larry have all spent time aboard. Lots of new friends have become regular crew aboard Betty Ann.

A frequent name on the log of Betty Ann is Denny. Characteristically, Denny was also the first friend to contribute a story to this blog. He described Betty Ann’s maiden voyage ten years ago:

I think we set sail the end of March 2004. We left Bradenton heading for Key West and only made it to the north end of Longboat Key and Moore’s Stone Crab for dinner.

The problem was with the auto pilot. The maintenance crew from Island Packet company came down and repaired it (moved satellite receiver from deck to railing).

Interesting note, that night, anchored in Sarasota Bay, we heard a ticking noise in the bilge or the bottom of the boat. Not knowing what it was the next morning we asked the Island Packet guys and they said it was the shrimp eating the algae off the bottom of the Betty Ann. One of many mysteries solved.

The joy in adventure and discovery (e.g., Denny’s bottom-feeding shrimp) is less in the doing and more in the sharing with others. As the adventure writer Tim Cahill said best,

A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles.

In which case, Betty Ann has sailed very far indeed.

If you don’t have time this holiday season for Robert Redford’s sailing disaster movie All Is Lost, check out this short film clip of Betty Ann. Jim G. filmed this clip off Florida in the hours before the gale hit described in the previous post. One gets a sense of a building sea. For those prone to seasickness, you may want to take some dramamine before viewing!

If someone reported to a social service agency that an 86 year old man was covered with bruises from being thrown around violently and stuck out in the wind and rain through a gale, they would immediately suspect the family of elder abuse. But that would assume that the family had any control over the scallywag.

Even before buying the Betty Ann, as a trial run at sailing offshore, Archie crewed aboard a Swan sailing from Newport to Annapolis in bad seas. He described the trip as three days in a cement mixer, tossed from side to side. He loved it.

In the ten years since then, Archie and the Betty Ann have had their share of rough weather at sea. Archie keeps an eye on weather systems and is cautious about subjecting his crews to storms. But it is pretty hard to get from Florida to New England each spring and then back again during the Fall hurricane season without sailing through some unpleasant weather.

The sailing trip this Fall was no exception. In early November 2013, Archie with frequent crew Jim G., Terry and Ray left Jacksonville bound for Fort Pierce, Florida. Two days later, his family and some friends received this terse email:

Bimini top, torn by a wave

Ft. Pierce — No. Miami — Yes. Arrived at 2:00 a.m. Got caught in gale storm off Cape Canaveral. 13 ft. waves. Never saw less than 20 knot winds for 36 hours. Fast ride. Big wave took out some canvas per attached. All safe.

Hmmm. Attached to the email was this photo of the canvas bimini, which normally provides shelter to the cockpit, in tatters. It must have been quite a wave. Many hours after this worrying email, we received this follow up with a bit more information:

Hi All: Some more details especially for sailors. Why were we out there? We had sailed Saturday from Port Royal to Fernandina Beach in winds of 15 to 25 knots and it was fine. On Monday, the forecast was 15 to 25 from the Northeast shifting to East Tuesday. Waves 7 to 9 feet likely on Saturday. On Monday afternoon, they changed the forecast to Gale Warnings. There was no place to go into so we had to keep going. The Betty Ann sailed like a charm. We had up the main reefed to a third and the stay sail. There was no pressure on the rudder showing on autopilot. Track went off a very few times and when it did the sails were so balanced we just kept sailing on the same course. The water was warm so we were not cold. Wet but warm. Jim and I did 3 hours on and 3 off. We were hooked on and seated in the lee corner. The boat was tipped some but not too much. Below it was fairly comfortable. The lack of canvas did let wind and water in but we had good foul weather gear. Main concern was worrying about boat gear breaking, some one slipping or lines falling over and fouling propeller. [Note: Bill W-R waggishly noted in an email response that it was unclear in this sentence whether Archie’s concern was someone going overboard or that, in doing so, they might foul the propeller.] Actually we were not using the engine because we were going so fast it did not help. We were going against the Gulf Stream but we were making 8 to 9 knots. The wind was between 27 and 35 knots most of the time. I saw below 20 on Tuesday a couple of times. They had forecasted Tuesday evening would calm down to 15 to 25 but it never happened. It was still in the 28 to 35 range all the way to Miami. It was a bumpy ride coming into the inlet as the tide was going out against the wind but the boat just chugged right thru it. The boat was fantastic!!!! I don’t think I have overstated conditions too much. I thought I would summarize my recollections while they were still fresh. CJS

The CJS signoff on his email, by the way, stands for Captain Jack Sparrow, Archie’s alter ego and inspiration when aboard the Betty Ann. Archie brings the same sense of humor and adventure as does the Johnny Depp character in Pirates of the Caribbean.

The unexpected gale that hit Archie and his crew created havoc among other boats offshore that week. The Coast Guard responded to five other sailboats in distress during the gale, including one vessel that had lost its mast and another needing airlifting of the crew. Archie, on the other hand, appeared to have had a “fantastic!!!!” time.

Sunrise over calmer seas

I didn’t know that I didn’t know the geography of the East Coast. I’ve driven 95 from Maine to Florida and it all seemed pretty straightforward, just one exit after another.

Sailing the Betty Ann has given me the geography lesson I lacked. I now understand where Queens, Brooklyn and the Bronx are in relation to Manhattan. Having ridden the powerful Gulf Stream up from Florida, I can appreciate why countless ships sank off Cape Hatteras. And who knew that North Carolina had so many wide rivers? (On one trip, we spent hours debating, and betting on, whether the Neuse River is the widest river in the United States — only to discover that our Googled authorities were inconsistent.)

I knew that Baltimore has a harbor and assumed it was on the Atlantic Ocean. Wrong. (It’s way up the Chesapeake, in case anyone else was in the dark with me.) And I now know the C&D Canal connects the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays. I appreciate the deep harbors of Penobscot Bay more than ever, having sailed the western coast of Florida with barely a port deep enough for Betty Ann’s 5’3″ draft.

In the last decade, we have sailed “outside” from Florida to Rhode Island without landfall (or indeed sight of land), we’ve sailed up the Intracoastal Waterway through North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware, we’ve gone into New York City Harbor at night (a bit terrifying), and we have hopped from harbor to harbor in Maine.

Below is a chart reflecting nearly 50 ports that Betty Ann has visited, many frequently. If you click here, you will be taken to an interactive map where you can see the names and locations of the ports.

I didn’t know that I needed a geography lesson, but I’m sure glad I got it. The East Coast is a lot more interesting and beautiful than I ever realized. And no child in geography class had a better teacher than Betty Ann.