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July 2 to 13 Six Days of Sailing and First Two Nights Aboard

Yes, twelve fun filled active boating days (and two nights) for Lene and me. Six were sailing days which averaged only about 3.35 hours per day, plus a work day and two overnights. Before that, a fireworks party on the 37th floor of Devs apartment, which was great, including the fact that due to the distance from the event, the fireworks were like children should be: seen but not heard.
The first sail in this period was with two of the men from my Book group, Arthur
and Gary, Arthurs wife, Marie Genevieve (the photographer) and Rafael, their son, on his dads lap. This pic, like many others are taken on the launch because your correspondent is too busy sailing the boat to perform his photographic responsibilities, and because the bimini and dodger do too good a job of providing shade, which makes it hard to get good pictures.
So we had the Chief Librarian of a prestigious New York university, an Emmy Award winning Film Editor and a practicing Psychiatrist. They were my friends who have became Lenes friends as well. Marie is the sailor in the bunch, with lots of experience with her father in Europe, and took the helm most of the time, but her husband and son took stints. Rafa steered like a Navy Helmsman, taking orders such as "a little to the right" -- because at eight, he can not yet see over the binnacle.

Next up were four of Lenes friends who have become mine as well. Sheila, MJ, Christine and Heather, all repeat sailors whose pictures are in other posts. We put up less sail than normal and went at a slow stately pace that the guests appreciated. We started with reefed main and small jib but finished without the jib.

Then came Ilenes first sail on Bennett and Harrietts new Beneteau. Lene, as I had been, was quite impressed with the boat. I was able to whip the ends of all of her lines that terminate in the cockpit. Another day, not underway, will be needed to get the other ends of these lines. She has a lot less lines than On Eagles Wings.

A work day to get the top of the Genoa working and mostly sanding the cafe doors for another coat of varnish, which could not be applied because the varnish I had had jelled to a solid. I also got two spare fuel filters - expensive little buggers, which, in their boxes are now aboard in zip lock bags to prevent rust.

For the final three days and two nights of sailing, in addition to the human guests, Whitty and Alpha Girl got reacclimated to the boat. That process was hardly an event; they walked about like they owned the place and tried to get into the cabinet where their food is stored. Cats are smart, especially when their dinner is concerned. Alfie is quite at home inside the aft end of the stack pack, atop the boom, when ILENE is on a mooring. The red and black lines are the first and second reefing lines, respectively.
It is warm and quiet in there. But we have to remember always to make sure we see the little devils before we hoist the sails to avoid crushing them. Our human guests during the first of these three days were Jill and Ken, her boyfriend. She is the kitties Vet and he is a family therapist and soon to be published memoirist. Neither of their expert services were required for this voyage, just the pleasure of their company.
The most remarkable thing about this daysail was the tidal effect of the so called "Super Moon" -- which was full and at the point in its orbit closest to the earth, increasing its magnetic effect on the water. Coming north back toward the mooring we passed what is usually safely east of  Stepping Stones Light. The depth sounders beeping alerted us to the fact that the rocky seabed was only seven feet deep -- 16 inches below the bottom of our keel. I veered sharply to starboard to get further away -- toward deeper water. At high hide that day, the water would have been another eight feet deep. The same low tide problem almost prevented us from getting back to our mooring. Other members of our Club, who had intended to race that Friday evening, had to wait for the tide to rise a bit, being stuck in the mud.  We made a groove in the soft mud bottom for about ten yards of our approach to the mooring; inertia carried us through. Our keel is 5.66 feet deep and the water was only 5.6 feet deep. After dinner at the Club, I took our guests to the subway so they could get home and listened to our Clubs mostly amateur but great sounding six piece rock band playing. But it was already 9:30 and my bed time. A calm cool night.
Next day, after breakfast, our guest was Christine, a frequent sailor with us, here with Whitty.
We had the best sailing of the summer so far. We beat deeply into the south end of Little Neck Bay on eight tacks using Main and small jib, then ran out and through the passage behind Stepping Stones off Kings Point, which required three gybes, and finally turned south into Manhassett Bay to the M.B.Y.C. on a single starboard close reach. Lene had the helm most of the way and has mastered the art of taking advantage of puffs that round us up slightly. Our speed rarely dipped under six knots and on the broad reach we were making eight.
MBYC charges $60 for a mooring and has a lovely big pool. We got there late in the afternoon and lounged on the pools deck. It was not at all crowded and we just read. Later the pool attendant told us that our guest mooring fee did not include use of the pool. Apparently this rule resulted from an experience a few years ago when a boater with twelve souls aboard took a mooring and his guests clogged the swimming lanes. But MBCY has a great guest shower which we did use before an excellent dinner in their restaurant. From the restaurant deck, you see the pool in the foreground, their mooring field in mid ground and a wee bit of the east side of City Island under the setting sun.
Another good nights sleep and a good breakfast aboard before sailing back to the Harlem.









Before casting off, however, I finished the improvements that I had been working on. I hung the wool (or maybe cotton) wall hanging of a stylized sailboat that we got in Finland (dare I call it a tapestry?).  (Sorry about the color and underlined nature of this next paragraph; I didnt intend it and cant get out of it!)  I installed a new block at the base of the mast and a new fifth clutch on the starboard side of the coach roof, next to the other four of them there, so the winch there can handle the outhaul. From now on I can change the tension of the foot of the main sail and thereby trim it better without having to go forward to the mast, laying on my back there, having Lene steer up into the wind and hauling on the outhaul line manually. My only mistake was caused by Lewmar, which provided absolutely zero instructions on how to install their clutch. To release the four existing ones, I lift a lever that swivels up and forward on a pin at the forward end of the clutch. So I installed the new one with the lever moving the same way -- which was backward!!
All the others open one way; this new different one, the other!
In other words, when closed, the clutch did not hold the line when you want to lock it, but it did prevent you from tightening the line. But having done all the drilling and bolt and washer selection and grinding and snakeing of the line needed for the first installation, it took only ten more minutes to detach and reattach the clutch the right way. The clutch is fastened to the coach roof reinforced by strong washers, above this removable panel in the cabin ceiling.
This little job used an enormous number of specialized tools and I confess that I was pleased with myself. Thanks go to my rigger, Jeff Lazar, proprietor of Performance Yacht Management, who encouraged me to do it myself and gave me some helpful hints. He had also told me the size of the Allen stud which I installed myself (And I sorely regret that I did not bring my camera to the top of the mast to gain pictures of our clubhouse and mooring field from an altitude of 63.5 feet above sea level. Lene cranked me up and let me down gently. Another time for that photo.) While working from the top of the mast of a nearby boat Jeff also advised me to possibly shorten the strap at the clew of the Genoa to lower it a bit. The last step on the clutch job will be using a punch that Jeff recommended, and a hammer, to drive out a horizontal athwartship pin embedded in the forward end of the boom on which three thumb cleats rotate. They were used to hold the out haul line and the two reefing lines (red and black, remember) in place. Now, that the third and last of them is led to the cockpit, the thumb cleats are worse than superfluous --  they tend to chew up the lines.
Our sail home on Sunday in the late morning was via the shortest logical route on a variety of port reaches, from broad to close. It rained a bit en-route and with more and heavier  rain forecast for the afternoon,  and my shoulder getting sore from too much sailing, we made a short day of it.
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HYC Cruise Days 2 and 3 July 26 27 Port Jefferson to Mattituck 29 Miles

Saturday night, Port Jeff Harbor was calm as a birdbath. PC Bruce later pointed out to me that the ferries run very slowly past the mooring field to avoid waking us.
Rain was predicted at about 11 AM on Sunday but it came at 9:30, fortunately while Lene and I were having breakfast in Toast. So it did not mar the funeral.
It was a hot day and I noted the strong wind from the west during the funeral which made it easy for Blast, North Star and Shanghai to make the eastward passage. Tively II tacked back to the Harlem and reported a peak sailing experience. Dan and Mary Jane have an imminent land vacation and could not remain with the fleet.
ILENE made the passage on Monday and the wind was not so great. We were underway from 9 to 2, motoring all the way and with the main up but not doing much good. Three times I put up the genny, but each time the wind soon veered too far directly in front of us, so it luffed and it had to be furled. Lene took the helm for about an hour and a half, while I went below.  Mattituck Creek is a scenic narrow twisty dredged passage to the basin where Strongs Marina is located. It reminded me a bit of the ICW, complete with shallow spots. Well we did come in near low. But the depth alarm that Selwyn Feinstein had programmed in for me at seven feet in 2006 beeped while we passed stretches as shallow as 6.3 feet, only about seven inches of water under the keel.
In Mattituck we missed Shanghai, because CJ and Jenny had gone ahead; we expect to see with them in Block Is. Bennett, with relatives, on "Ohana" also plans to meet us there.
Upon arrival on Sunday, the other boats here went shopping on Love Lane, Matitucks shopping district, enjoyed the pool and had a barbecue. After ILENEs arrival Monday we gave her a needed bath and filled our water tanks. We ran out, from the last fill-up in Washington DC many sailing days ago, and used bottled water to brush teeth and wash coffee cups. We joined the group at the pool and in the traditional Harlem barbecue.
Roasted meats and veggies and smores for desert. The wind ruffled the plastic table cloths that Diane brought along, but this was not a problem and as we dined the wind died down, letting the insects join us. Here is the fleet, from left to right (or from shortest to tallest) North Star, Blast and ILENE.

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April 4 Titusville to Rockhouse Creek New Smyrna 31 2 Miles

Well the good news is that apparently felines have short memories. So Witty is not a permanent victim of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but his old pesky self. It was Saturday, the day before Easter, and warm and sunny so EVERYONE was out on the water. We saw hundreds of boats from Stand Up Paddleboards, to kayaks and canoes,







to fishing boats of all sizes,
to what I call motorized rafts.
And people were wading and swimming in the ICW too.

I put out the genoa and later the small jib but the wind was too close to our bow much of the time and too erratic. Anchor to anchor from 9:30 to 3:00. Only two opening bridges, one on request and the other every twenty minutes, which we made easily. The tide helped us the last third of our passage, except the last mile, once we got to Ponce de Leon Inlet, and we turned down the engine to near idle speed to give the watermaker two hours to make water before we arrived. We passed some nice modest waterfront houses
and some waterfront trailer parks also known as fishing camps....I think.

Rockhouse Creek runs east-west, connecting two  N-S waterways. (It is the horizontal in an "H".) When we arrived it was very crowded with perhaps fifty small boats and a few large ones. Folks had gone to the beach. We can only enter from the ICW, western end because it gets too shallow for us at the other end, but many powerboat people think that circumnavigating the unnamed island that forms its south side is a nice trip. We heard five of them comment on ILENEs name as they passed us. We had dropped anchor and settled in and by six p.m. there were only three boats left (one other sail and a trawler)
and we were too close to the sailboat, especially because there was so much room everywhere else and strong winds from the east were expected. So we picked up and dropped 150 feet further away from that sailboat. Our other neighbors were a family of campers.
There was no one on the other side of us, where we would turn right and be back in the ICW.

Im having trouble with the new snubber hook, (as well as the underline function) specifically in getting it to stay hooked onto the anchor chain; it falls off and dangles uselessly under the boat instead of doing its job. I tried tying it on but this wasnt working well so I next tried wrapping one side of the hook with rubbery tape to narrow the slot into which the chain sits, but that fell off. 
Here in Rockhouse, I knew it had fallen off when the wind came up at night: the chain took the load instead of the snubber and when ILENE hunted from side to side, the anchor chain snaps over in the bow roller making a sound like the boat is being pounded by a sledge hammer.

I created a way to mount the red and green dinghy navigation light using a suction cup, a piece of scrap plexiglass, a nut, some washers and a piece of thin line.

We have been noticing that Florida has given nicknames to its geography much as in Manhattan, neighborhoods like SOHO and Tribeca that have no legal or governmental significance  are used to define neighborhoods. The southern part of Florida: Miami, Fort Lauderdale and maybe Boca is called the Gold Coast. Heading north, next comes the Treasure Coast including Palm Springs, Stuart and Fort Pierce, so named because Spanish treasure galleons sank off this part of Florida. Cocoa, Titusville and New Smyrna are called the Space Coast. I hadnt noticed this before.





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March 27 29 Final Lay Day in Stuart Passage to Fort Pierce and Three Lay Days There 26 2 Miles

Lene had business to transact by phone so I dinked in alone and took the free shuttle to Westmarine to get a new dinghy painter and a new anchor snubber -- and got neither.
As to the painter, we do not tow the dink so a sturdier painter that floats (so as to not get into the boats propeller when we are in reverse) is not needed; we can simply use the one that came with the dink.
The need for a new snubber line arose because the old one was getting shorter and thinner. After being anchored for a long time during strong winds, it takes either patience with the marlinspike or just cutting off the last nine inches to undo the snubber where it is clove hitched to the anchor chain. This has happened several times and the line was getting progressively shorter. Also it was getting thinner, because of severe chafing. So time for a new one. You want this line to stretch so most of the lines we have aboard are not good for this purpose because they were made for other purposes, where you want the lines to NOT stretch. So Im looking at Westmarines selection of lines and -- wait a minute! I have an old soft stretchy nylon anchor rode. If I cut off a 25 foot length, this will work quite well with lots of line left for cutting off nine inches at a time over the next several years. But, I spent $100 on a good hardened stainless lock to prevent theft of the outboard from the dink.
Back at the dock, I installed the lock and hacked off another half foot of the tiller extender because it extended too far. The marinas bike took me the five minute ride to the local, less upscale Publix for two items Lene wanted.
Heading out back to ILENE, a terrible thing happened. In driving the dink at the dock, I bounced it off another dink into one of the concrete pilings, from which clam shells extended out like razors. WHOOSH! was the sound of the air escaping from a 1.5 inch gash, below the waterline in the port aft tube. Our almost brand new dink, wounded already! Are we destined to be cursed with dinghy problems? The dink can stay afloat with only one of its three tubes inflated, so is in no danger of sinking, but this was a most revolting development.
I hauled the dink up onto the Martinas dinghy dock and water that had entered the tube, which was quite flabby, poured out. The marina gave me a ride back to ILENE for the repair kit, sandpaper, and a pair of scissors to shape the patch into a diamond shape with rounded corners. You have to sandpaper both surfaces and mix a two part glue and apply it to the dink and the patch. I needed help in the form of tools from the marina office to open the two glue bottles. You have to use a metal or glass container to mix the two parts of the glue, hopefully in the correct nine to one proportions. the bottom of a beer can from a trash bin was the metal surface and its tab was the stirrer. I let the glue get tacky but not as long as the instructions called for, and slapped it into place as the first few drops of torrential rain hit. I let it cure for over two hours while reading in the Marinas clubhouse -- free popcorn!  Then I drove the dink back to the boat, without inflating the tube in question to full pressure. The instructions say to not pressure test the patch for 24 hours.  Well the patch did not fall off, but it has a fast "slow leak" requiring it to be pumped up each 24 hours. So we will try to have the job done by a professional in St. Augustine in a few days. My not so handy work:

The passage to Fort Pierce was not long. But with temperatures in the low 50s, a hard, cold 30 knots of apparent wind 20 degrees off the port bow made for quite a wind chill factor. (Yes, I know, I shouldnt be complaining to northern friends who have suffered a cruel winter.) But it makes us fear that we may have started north too soon. Anyway, hats, gloves and scarves were in order. Just a slog under grey skies. Not a peak sailing experience, in fact solely a motoring experience.

The Fort Pierce Municipal Marina has been redone since our charts were printed, after a hurricane took out much of the old marina. They spent a lot of money to build a series of barrier islands to prevent such damage. The new slips are almost ready for occupancy and we went to the remaining portion of the old, via a well marked but tricky new channel that is not on the charts yet. The tricky part is the current, which runs wicked strong N-S across the E-W channel. We had to go west but headed NW to "crab" through it diagonally. They put us starboard side to, on the outside "T" dock, opposite the fuel dock, so when we leave we make a "U" turn to port and our lines are set up for fueling.

The Marina is different from others in our experience in that a number of live-aboarders have cats rather than dogs. Playmates for our dynamic duo, but they grew up playing with each other, our pair get low grades in "playing well with others."

We arrived too late for the "biggest farmers market in Florida" but wandered through a large music festival on our way to the marina office: rock, blues, country, etc. Crowds were still arriving; we were serenaded that night. Normally, readers know, we explore a town and learn of its history, etc. But here we just hung out with friends. Janet and Mike, with whom we had dined on Greek food in Boca, invited us to their home for happy hour and took us to Publix on our way home the first evening there and to their home where Kathryn and Craig had come up from Boca to visit, the next. After this second happy hour we went out to the Second Street Cafe for dinner.
                          Kathryn, Craig, Lene, Roger, Mike and Janet
We hope to meet up with Janet and Mike in Oxford Maryland on our way home. Its amazing. We last saw them in Maryland in 2012 and Kathryn and Craig at her brothers wedding maybe six years ago. But put sailors together and the old bonds are re-cemented instantly-- a lot stronger than the two part glue fixing our Hypalon patch to the dink. Mike and Janet just moved into their new, large modern apartment facing east over the water on the fourth floor.
Rear view from entrance
We are amazed at how much home one can get here for such a reasonable price. If we were in the market for another home, we would be very tempted. We missed both of the distinguished visitors who were here with us: President Obama came to play golf and Jay Leno was in town for a performance with $85 and $115 tickets.
Front view, with Atlantic past the barrier island.
View to the left, with free anchoring where we will stay next time.















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March 30 April 2 Fort Pierce to Cocoa and Three Lay Days There 57 Miles

We left the fuel dock at 8 am and anchored at 4:45. Lots of miles but all high bridges except one which opened on request. We went past Vero Beach and Dragon Point, where we had stayed on our way south. This was just as pleasant a passage as the one to Fort Pierce had been ugly. The ICW is deeper, wider and straighter for the most part, and it was sunny and warmer.
A pod of porpoises looked us over while crossing close behind us; we havent seen them for a while. When the tide turned, slowing us from near seven knots to 6.2, the wind came up, just far enough off our starboard bow to allow the small jib to get that speed back for us. We had planned to go outside in the Atlantic to New Smyrna, but the problem with the sunken barge in the Fort Pierce Inlet coupled with winds out of the north made the decision to stay inside until New Smyrna for us -- three passages instead of one.

In the morning the tachometer was not working, nor the engine hour meter. I took off and cleaned the plexiglass cover that protects the panel and the panel itself and jiggled the wires. Jiggling sometimes helps such problems, but no luck today. Then Lene said she had trouble with the ignition switch when turning on the engine. Oh yes, she had accidentally turned it to "Off". After "Start" it should be left "On", but turning it "Off" does not stop the engine -- it only turns off the electricity to its instruments. Switched back to "On" and the tachometer was instantly restored to operation.

A big pleasant surprise when I heard a yell of  "Roger" and saw a dark blue motorized catamaran passing us.
"Its Phat Cat," came next. Dave and Diane, with their two cats aboard, passed us. They resigned from the Harlem and are currently on their last leg (northbound up the Atlantic coast) of the "Great Circle Cruise". They started up the Hudson, and then through canals to the Great Lakes and Canada, down Lake Michigan, the Mississippi, Ohio, Tennessee and other rivers to the Gulf of Mexico, through the ICW east and south along Floridas west coast to Marathon and then northbound in the Atlantic.  This is a trip for power boats; our mast would have to be taken down for the trip, and laid atop the boat, would extend ILENE from 43 feet long to over 65. Dave and Di have been on the journey for about ten months. Since Marathon, they have been in many of the same places we were, but neither of us knew it and we had not met up until now. Their boats name is not on the boat and I might not have recognized it if they had not called out.

We recalled a wild Harlem Memorial Day Rendezvous near Ellis Island in NY Harbor. We had rafted up to Phat Cat and then another smaller sailboat rafted up to our other side and get her mast caught under our back stay. Several men got on top of Phat Cats roof and pulled down to the side on the other boats main halyard to free her. And again, during a Club Cruise, we enjoyed a good time with Dave and Di in Watch Hill, RI.











Phat Cat is a Lagoon 43, built in France, the same length as ILENE but twice as wide, so they have lots of room. It can be rigged with a mast and sails but Phat Cat is not.
The aft stateroom can be divided by a bulkhead down the middle to make two large staterooms if it is used for chartering; but Phat Cat has one immense stateroom, shown here with one of its two cats, Xena or Cassie, reclining on the queen size bed.  She goes faster than us and when we caught up we anchored near her at Cocoa Village, off to the west of the ICW in ten feet of water with 50 feet of snubbed chain.

Dave put down their dink and ferried us around the first night and the next two days that they stayed with us here, before moving on. We had not planned to stay here so long but the nearest place that can do a professional patch on our dink is in St. Augustine and they will not have time to do our job until April 7, so we have slowed down our itinerary to arrive there when they can do the work which will take two days.

We dined on Thai food with Dave and Di at Thai Thai our first night, a pot luck aboard their large boat the second and blueberry pancakes on ILENE the morning of their departure.
Lene making herself at home on Phat Cats back porch.
Dining room with nav station in background

Dave and I dinked across the Indian River to its eastern side where it was a short walk to the local Publix, less than half a mile. The four of us "shopped" Cocoa Village, right by our free dinghy dock, one afternoon. Lene got two pairs of shoes, Dave and Di enjoyed some excellent pastries from the bakery, and we toured Travis hardware, a famous old fashioned place with a huge inventory including tools for use on ocean liners. We bought a better lock to secure the dink to the shore or to the boat,   We are not far from Cape Canaveral where Disney Cruise ships put in with their thousands of passengers. One of the excursions is to take busloads of tourists to Cocoa Village for shopping.

When Dave and Di headed north, we took our dink across to Merrit Island so Lene could get her fix of supermarket shopping. I went back to Travis for a stainless steel snubber hook to replace the rusty mess that we had aboard, and "spline" rubber to affix the new cat proof screening into the frames of the side screens which had been scratched through. I also visited the bank and the Florida Historical society.

They have a good free dinghy dock at Cocoa Village, where one can tie up fore and aft to keep the dink away from the pilings and use the lock amidships to avoid theft. And you can see the shortened tiller extender sticking up, imagine before I cu 18 inches from it!
Lene got a message, her first on this trip, and after dinner at Murdocks,
(southern cuisine --  delicious and inexpensive) we attended the local production of My Fair Lady at the Cocoa Village Historic Playhouse.






And what a treat! The house holds 600. Eliza Doolittle was a sixteen year old. The actors were great and in the choral numbers 48 of them were on stage, supported by an orchestra of sixteen musicians. The costumes and sets were excellent and one would have paid five times as much to see this show on Broadway. Professor Higgins is such a misogynist and yet even today the story is great because the show makes fun of him for it.
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December 27 to January 1 Lake Sylvia to Cooleys Landing and Five Lay Days in Fort Lauderdale 2 9 Miles

Our short passage from an anchorage east of the ICW to a municipal marina up the New River to its west took place early in the morning, timed for our arrival to coincide at slack tide at our destination, at 7:30. The New is a natural river with deep enough water way up past Cooleys Landing. It has been dredged and is lined by boats on both sides, and very expensive homes. It twists extensively and is narrow. It is because our dock is perpendicular to the shore line that we had to arrive at slack -- to avoid being pushed past the slip by the tidal current at other times. Our slip is at the edge of Fort Lauderdales Riverwalk, with its arts district, close to the intersection of Las Olas Boulevard and Andrews Avenue. These streets divide the town into its four quadrants, NE, etc., i.e., the heart of town. The marina is inexpensive with good showers and wifi; its drawback was the inattentive staff. We got help tying up from a neighboring boat because the staff, who had promised to help us tie up, was no where to be hailed or found, and they did not check us in until the next day. The dock master, Matt, is helpful but his subordinates are not.
Getting here we passed under four bridges, each about a city block apart, which open on request. Well, one is for the railroad and is always open except when a train comes along. We were lucky to arrive on a weekend day because the bridges do not open during designated ninety minute periods at the morning and evening rush hours on weekdays -- and the slack was during that 90 minute period. ILENE is the boat at the left, closest to the bridge, shown at the right. View of the arts center is blocked by the tall condo.
 This next view is from the bridge with ILENE the boat on the right.
The drawback to being so close to The Marshall Bridge, named after the towns first Mayor, is that it opens and closes with a clanging bell and each car that drives across makes a loud noise on the central span which is a metal grate; but this is no worse than the traffic on Broadway and
Fourth Avenue, which serenades us at home -- we city slickers are inured to noise.
The most exciting thing happened one afternoon: the subject of the next days headlines. In addition to the four bridges there is an overhead power cable, stated on the chart to be 80 feet above the water, so of no concern to us. But a sailboat with a 75 foot high mast (or he said it was that high) hit the cable and broke it, with the ends falling into the river and shutting down a good part of the city for several hours until power could be restored. The newspapers reported that there was a loud explosion but we did not hear it. A police boat hovered off our stern, shutting traffic on the river for several hours.
Several of our activities here involved Lenes cousin, Naomi and her family. We had thought to do more with them but Naomi broke her pelvis a few days before we arrived so instead of fun activities we visited her in a Rehabilitation Center a couple of times. Each of her sons, Jeffrey and Alan, and her granddaughter, Carly, who is a Vet student came to the boat, for breakfast, to hang out, and for a trip by dink, a mile and a half further up the New River, to a shipyard where they work on mega yachts.


And this is a mega in transit down the river, with one tug pulling at the bow and another pulling and steering from the stern.











We also took in a performance of the State Ballet of Russia at the Parker Playhouse, a 1000 seat auditorium a cab ride away.




It was Sunday afternoon, with the Dolphins playing so we had a good shot at getting tickets at the door.
The program was excerpts from three Tchaikovsky ballets and the performance was skillful. One dance I had never seen was called the cat dance from the Sleeping Beauty; living with cats we saw how accurately and cutely  the choreographer had mimicked their movements.
Another day involved a trip to the Galleria Mall where the Apple store is, to replace the one Lene droped. We had Apple insurance so it did not cost an arm and a leg. The mall was 3.7 miles away per Mapquest, but after half a mile Lene balked at the walk and we discovered that the Number 40 bus ran from nearby to the mall for 85 cents for a senior. And while there, the food court provided great salads for lunch.

We did some other shopping and were picked up by Dick and Elle, former Harlemites who are selling their trawler and have sold their home in NJ for a home in an over-55 community in Boynton Beach. Dick is a Past Commodore of the Club. We were the first Harlemites to meet Elle when they came into a dock at a marina in Baltimore during May of 2006. Dick and Elle were the first Harlemites to see ILENE afloat. Dinner was at the Bimini Boatyard (more posh than the boatyards in Bimini where we stayed in 2012). They drove us back to the boat and for coffee here. In the summer of 2010 they met me and gave me a list of their favorite places to stay on the ICW, many of which we have now visited. Im very thankful for their help.
Naomi had joked that she was running a parcel service for us, and we took possession of about a dozen boxes: repair parts, cat food, mail from home, etc. And then we stowed it and iustalled the new and larger club burgee to replace the old one which had been whipped into shreds by the wind. Also a replacement dog to fasten down a side opening port. The old one had been tightened by pliers after its bakelite knob broke off about two years ago. It was not until the Annapolis Boat Show that I saw that the ports were made by Hood and ordered a new knob. And while at at, I cleaned and waxed the stainless of the starboard side ports.
Jeff took us to dinner at a local restaurant called Tarpon Bend. While enjoying blackened mahi tacos, I had the pleasure of informing our waitress how her restaurant got its name. She guessed that it was after the tarpon fish, but the first bend on the New River is called Tarpon Bend.
New Years eve was about as non posh as one can get. The number 10 bus took us to a movie theater up on Sunrise Boulevard where we saw The Imitation Game. Not bad but it would have been better if they showed the three sets of scenes: (a) at boarding school in the 1922s, (b) during the war and (c) in the early 50s -- in chronological order instead of slicing them to bits and jumbling them together. My theory is that if your story is good enough, and this one had two stories, one about code breaking and the other about Alan Turings personal relations, you dont need flashbacks. Its sort of like The Love Boat, that TVshow. Each week they had three weak stories about
 relationships among the passengers and crew, but by jumbling them they made it seem more interesting. Down, Roger! Get off that soap box!
Our non posh evening continued after the movie: Dinner at Burger King, bus ride back, walk through the five block long stretch of 2nd Street barricaded and with 20 stands selling beer and bombarded with ultra loud recorded music, in preparation for the throng to watch the ball drop at midnight, and home asleep in our berth from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m.
Our final night here was a family dinner at Islamorada Fish Company with all of Naomis family except, alas, Naomi.
 Carly, Jeff, Mary, Roger and Lene.




A better view of Carly and her three legged rescue dog, Mulligan.

Next stop Miami.


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Yellow boat 4 FPV camera view Purau New Zealand 2 1 14



Yellow boat 4 mostly Hobby King bits balsa epoxy fiber glass hull 
http://kiwitricopter.blogspot.co.nz/2012/09/3-hour-yellow-boat.html



Twin Turnigy 450 Series 3800KV Brushless Outrunner Helicopter Motor
RPM: 3800kv
Max Current: 35A
Max Power: 365W

2 X HobbyKing 30A BlueSeries Brushless Speed Controller with shared enlarged air cooled heatsink with an 30mm fan
Cont. Current: 30A
Burst Current: 40A
http://www.hobbyking.com/hobbyking/store/uh_viewitem.asp?idproduct=13429&aff=652823


coupled to modified NQD jet drives with flex shafts and custom 3 blade impellers 

ZIPPY Compact 2700mAh 3S 25C Lipo Pack
Capacity: 2700mAh
Voltage: 3S1P / 3 Cell / 11.1V
Discharge: 25C Constant / 35C Burst
Weight: 203g (including wire, plug & case)
Dimensions: 137x15x44mm
Balance Plug: JST-XH

http://www.hobbyking.com/hobbyking/store/uh_viewitem.asp?idproduct=21349&aff=652823

Purau
https://www.google.co.nz/maps/preview#!q=Purau%2C+Canterbury&data=!4m15!2m14!1m13!1s0x6d322f14fc09c6a3%3A0x500ef868479e4b0!3m8!1m3!1d338144!2d175.3085223!3d-37.6203018!3m2!1i1366!2i642!4f13.1!4m2!3d-43.6390402!4d172.7489035

Yellow boat 4 FPV camera view Purau New Zealand 2-1-14 from nickatredbox on Vimeo.



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May 2 3 Portsmouth to Yorktown and Lay Day There 34 9 Miles

Well it was not our fault, and no harm done at our 9:15 departure from the Tidewater Marina. The lovely young lady who works in the office came to help us off the dock. It is obvious that she had never done such a task before, though we did not know this. I asked her to take the bow line while Lene undid the stern line. We were port side to the dock with the wind blowing from that side. What our willing and cheerful helper should have done was hold the bow line and walk aft as we backed out after which she should have tossed the line on deck. The wind would then have blown our stern to starboard, so we would be able to back up a little further, turn left and motor out. But she just threw off the line on our deck immediately and when we backed out we drifted sideways to starboard in the narrow lane. Fortunately there was a turning basin down a bit, which she pointed out to us, and we were able to turn around in it and head out.
But the wind gods were not cooperating. The first part of the passage was essentially north, where the wind was coming from, and about 15 knots actual, (20 apparent). Also, we had a batten problem. The Velcro strap that holds the batten (flexible rod that stiffens the sail) in its pocket in the sail, was partially torn off and not holding. So the batten was sliding out and this was not good for the sail either, so no main sail use today.  We passed the Navy Bases Destroyer Pier from which I did my
Midshipmans cruise in 1964, aboard the USS Dewey. DLG 17. As time passes destroyers get bigger and bigger.
Aboard ILENE, we cut across the Thimble Shoal. But our course gradually curved around to the west till we were heading west up the mighty York River. We got to where we could put out sail and put out the small jib which gave us an extra knot. But when we got to the river itself, where a beam reach could have helped us, the wind gradually died, so it was a motoring day -- again!
Once on the mooring, Roger the Tailor sprang into action and the batten problem is fixed. I lowered the dink for the first time since Beaufort SC and connected the two parts of the new, stronger, wider, easier to use ratchet strap.  We dinked in, paid for our mooring and had dinner with Stan and Carol, at the Restaurant in the Marina. We celebrated his retirement after almost 50 years of teaching Genetics, most of them at William and Mary. I called it fine dining based on service, taste and presentation, but Lene, who likewise relished the food, says that fried food cant be fine dining though it was mighty fine to me. I did have a "wardrobe malfunction" trying to get properly shod before dinner. Both are red, they are jumbled in a locker and I didnt notice this until after dinner.
Our friends again drove in their two cars and left one for our use for the next day! They also brought us the box from Doyle Sails with the five plastic panels with which we can now enclose the cockpit. A very peaceful night.
In the morning, we dinked in, brought the box with the panels from the car via the dink to the boat and installed them. It will take some getting used to for me to be comfortable sailing with them on. The rear one has to be removed to lower and raise the dink. When the dink is down, one has to crawl out under the rear panel to the swim platform to board the dink. With the side panels on, the handles for the big winches for the Genoa sheets can only go half way around, slowing operations. Many of these issues can be resolved when we get back and Junior, of Doyle Sails, puts straps on from the top so that the panels can be rolled up, and fasteners between the aft end of the dodger and the forward end of the new cover need to be attached.
It was beautifully warm and sunny and the adjacent beach in the river got a lot of use. There was also a food festival on Saturday and one for art on Sunday.

We did laundry, bought some gifts, and did the shopping.











Lene dressed for dinner and I shot her by the two green excursion schooners docked at the marina.











In the evening went to dinner at the home of David and his family.
David is Stans son, who I saw last when he was an adolescent and an avid player of Dungeons and Dragons.
David, Lene, Me, Davids wife Wendy, their son Josh, Carol and Stan. Their daughter, Sam, soon  to graduate, is the best looking of the lot of us, by far, but she was the photographer.

Three generations were enjoying each other and we enjoyed them all. They did the best dry rubbed ribs I have ever had, corn bread etc., and it was a delicious home cooked meal. And another very quiet night on the mooring with a full moon.

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