Wednesday, August 25, 1993 - New York

Picture of Riverside Church
A year or two ago, we took Anne Baeck and two of her friends sailing. One of her friends, Bert Cagir, lives in New York and wanted to go sailing with us when we got here, so Roy phoned him and gave him directions for getting out here. This morning, it occurred to us that it would be a lot simpler if we took the boat to Manhattan and picked him up there, so I phoned the Visitor Information Center to see if they knew of a public dock where we could tie up for a few minutes. The woman I talked with was very nice. She said there was such a dock, but she didn't remember the name of it. She spent quite a bit of time looking through her records but couldn't find it. She gave me the number of the Port Authority, and I phoned them, thinking if anyone would know about docks, they would, but they didn't. They gave me the number of the Coast Guard. I phoned the Coast Guard, and they gave me the names of two marinas on Manhattan. By then, it was quarter past twelve, so we walked as fast as we could to the bus stop and got there in time to catch the 12:30 bus.
At the Port Authority Terminal, we went back to the manager's office and looked up the addresses and phone numbers of the marinas. We also got the addresses of a couple of marine supply stores and two Sizzlers on Broadway.
We called one of the marinas, but the dockmaster wasn't there, so we weren't able to get much information other than there was a fuel dock and the water was deep enough. Then we phoned Bert to let him know where we could meet him tomorrow morning. In the course of the conversation, we found out he doesn't live in Manhattan after all; he lives in New Rochelle! That completely changes the whole picture. Since New Rochelle is on our way to Sag Harbor, our next destination, we'll take the boat over there tomorrow, tie up at a marina, and take Bert and his fiancee sailing on Friday. This makes the whole thing much simpler for everyone concerned.
We were hungry, so we walked over to the nearest Sizzler and ate lunch. It was similar to other Sizzlers, but didn't have chicken, baked potatoes, meatballs, or ice cream. There were plenty of salads and lots of fruit, however, so we had plenty to eat. They even gave us a senior discount.
We had planned on going to a marine supply store on Broadway, but I took another look at the map while we were eating and realized it would be just as close or closer to the larger discount store, so we went over there and were glad we did. It was only a couple of blocks from the Sizzler, and they had quite a large selection and good prices. We bought a tide and current tables book that covers the entire East Coast for only $8. Also bought a pair of needle-nose pliers to replace the ones Roy dropped overboard at Wilmington.
Walked half a block to Avenue of the Americas (formerly 6th Avenue) and caught the #5 bus uptown. We wanted to see the apartment houses we had lived in when we were children. We had both lived on the block between Broadway and Riverside Drive, not very far from each other. The bus went up Riverside Drive, which was really lovely, with all its tall, leafy trees. At 135th Street, it turned over to Broadway. Most of the old buildings were still there. I could see my old apartment house on West 137th Street. Roy's apartment house on West 168th Street had been replaced by a new one, but the one on West 171st Street was still there. Brought back a lot of memories.
We rode the bus to the end of the line, at the George Washington Bridge. We walked halfway across the bridge and took a lot of pictures. By then, it was after six, so in order to catch the seven o'clock bus to Atlantic Highlands, we decided to take the subway, which is much, much faster than the bus.
By luck, there was a subway station right there by the bridge entrance, and the train was express, so we got to the terminal by ten to seven. The station was right there under the terminal, so all we had to do was ride the escalator up, buy our tickets, and hurry down to the gate. The bus was still there, but there was standing room only, so we stood. The bus is non-stop for the first hour. Fortunately, at the first stop, lots of people got off, so there were seats for all the standees and some left over.
We reached Atlantic Highlands at 8:30. The store was still open, so we bought a few groceries and returned to the boat.

Tuesday, August 24, 1993 - Manhattan

View of Manhattan from World Trade Center
After breakfast, we moved the boat into the yacht basin. Then we paddled ashore and went to the Dockmaster's office to make sure we could use the dinghy dock. Found out it costs $12 a day, but that includes use of the showers, so that's ok. We paid for two days.
Walked to the Visitor Information Center to see if they had a schedule for the bus to Manhattan. They usually have them but were out. However, the man at the desk said the buses ran every hour at the half hour. It was 11:20 then, so we hurried to the bus stop, getting there right at 11:30. When no bus arrived, we figured it must have gone by just before we got there. Later, when we finally got a schedule, we saw that the bus usually ran every hour but not between 10:30 and 12:30. Fortunately, there was a bench to sit on, so we waited and eventually caught the bus. The senior fare was only $2.85 each. The trip took an hour and a half, so it was two o'clock when we reached the Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan.
The Port Authority Terminal is probably the largest bus terminal in the world. It covers an entire city block and is several storeys high. As many as 200 buses can be loaded simultaneously. Forty million passengers pass through there every year. The terminal contains stores, restaurants, banks, etc. We went upstairs and ate a not-too-bad lunch.
I wanted to look up some phone numbers and addresses. There were lots of telephones but no directories. I asked at the information window and was told the directories are in the manager's office in the next building, so we went over there and found a stack of phone books. Looked up the numbers for every Tulchin listed. I want to try to locate Billie Jean, my ex-sister-in-law, while we're here.
There were a lot of brochures in the manager's office, so we got some of them. One was especially interesting, as it told how to ride the buses and subways. For senior fare, we have to have a Medicare card or a Senior ID card. Roy has his Medicare card, but I managed to lose mine. I've applied for a new one, but won't get it for a month, so I phoned the MTA to find out how to apply for a Senior ID card and was given an address to go to.
We went to the nearest subway station. Roy bought ten tokens and showed his Medicare card. We thought the tokens would be half price, but it turned out they charge full price but give you a slip of paper for a free return trip. We were wondering how I'd get a free return trip and what we'd do with all the extra tokens. Anyway, we went down to the MTA, and I applied for a temporary ID card. The clerk could scarcely speak English and typed with one finger, so it took a while. Then we made the mistake of asking him about the subway tokens. He gave us a lengthy and totally unintelligible response. He ended by saying, "It's perfectly clear, yes?" Rather than waste any more time, we said it was perfectly clear and left.
We were just a few blocks from the World Trade Center, so we walked over there and went up to the observation deck on the 107th floor. What a view! We could see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island and all of Lower Manhattan and even a glimpse of the George Washington Bridge. We went up on the roof, too. It was a really thrilling sight.
There was a subway station in the basement of the World Trade Center, so we went down there. Roy turned in his return-trip slip at the ticket booth and was admitted free. I showed the man my Senior ID and was given a return-trip slip, but I had to use a token to get through the turnstile. We were no sooner on the platform than I realized we were on the downtown side, not the uptown. Luckily, the man in the ticket booth was very nice. He had us exit, told us how to get to the uptown platform, and gave us two more slips. We had to go back out to the concourse and walk quite a ways, but eventually we reached the uptown platform, turned in our slips at the ticket booth, and were admitted without paying another token.
When we were at the World Trade Center, there was a snack bar on the observation deck that had utterly ludicrous prices. Needless to say, we didn't buy anything. I wanted three post cards and had gone into Walgreen's at the Port Authority Terminal to get them, but they were two for a dollar, so I didn't. At the observation deck, post cards were 75 cents to three dollars each! Needless to say, I didn't buy those either. When we got to the Times Square subway station, we found post cards five for a dollar. Bingo! Those I bought.
There was a long underground passageway from the Times Square subway station (Broadway and 42nd Street) to the Port Authority Bus Station (8th Avenue and 41st Street), so we were able to walk to the terminal without going out on the street. Bought our tickets and got to the gate just in time to catch the 7:30 bus.
Arrived in Atlantic Highlands at five before nine. The grocery store was supposed to stay open until nine, but it had already closed, so we couldn't get the things we wanted. Decided that the following evening, we'd take the seven o'clock bus instead of the 7:30.

Monday, August 23, 1993 - New Jersey, New York

Motored all night and all day. Put the sails up for a short time, but soon had to take them down again. There was a light breeze in back of us, so we could have sailed with the spinnaker, but it's such a hassle to put up and take down that Roy didn't feel like bothering. It's well he didn't, because the wind suddenly picked up as we approached Sandy Hook, New Jersey, which is notorious for its wind. It began blowing 20 knots or better, which would have been devastating if we'd had the spinnaker up.
We were both thrilled to be approaching New York City, where we'd lived as children. We couldn't see Manhattan yet, but we could see Brooklyn and Staten Island and the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. Neither of us was familiar with the waters around New York City, other than the Hudson River, so we were impressed by the vastness of the bay. We were also surprised that we saw so few large ships; we had expected to see giant freighters and tankers and ocean liners all over the place.
By the time we reached Sandy Hook, it was late afternoon, the wind was blowing, and the waves were kicking up, so rather than try to press on to Staten Island, looking for a marina, we decided to duck behind the Hook and drop anchor.
I was at the wheel going up the channel. We'd nearly reached the buoy where I was going to turn into the harbor when Roy said, "You can turn any time you want to." I said, "Yes. I'm going to go around green 17 over there." Roy said, "That green is red." I said, "That's green 17." Roy pointed to the left and said, "There's the green buoy over there. This one's red." He kept insisting the buoy was red, and I kept insisting it was green, but the skipper is always right even when he's wrong, so I went to the left of the "red" buoy instead of going around it to the right as I had planned. When we'd passed it and the sun was no longer shining in his eyes, even Roy had to admit it was green, but we had plenty of water, so it didn't really matter. However, if we'd gone aground because Roy kept insisting green was red, I'd have been furious.
We were approaching a little New Jersey town called Atlantic Highlands. The chart showed a Municipal Yacht Basin fronted by a very long breakwater. We could see masts behind the breakwater, but we don't like to go blindly into a strange marina, so we dropped anchor just outside the breakwater and paddled in. We weren't disappointed. The yacht basin was roomy and had moorings and anchorages as well as a marina and a wide launch ramp. There was a yacht club that provided a free water taxi. We found out we could anchor for free, but the moorings cost $25 a day (that's hard to believe; we'll have to verify that). There was a dinghy dock adjacent to the ramp, so we pulled our Royaks up there and walked to town. We had been told there was a super market a quarter mile down the road, so we walked there and bought as many groceries as we could carry. We also found out there's a bus that goes to Manhattan from here. There's also a ferry to Manhattan that would be fun to ride, but it costs $20 round trip. The bus is only $8 round trip.
We've really lucked out finding this place. We get to anchor for free instead of spending $50 or more a day at a marina, there's a good super market, a laundromat, and lots of other stores, it's an attractive, safe location, and we have easy access to Manhattan. So we'll probably stay here instead of looking for a marina.

Sunday, August 22, 1993 - to New York

Beautiful day! Sunny and clear, with a perfect temperature.
Roy pulled up too much chain before breakfast, and we drifted into shallow water, but he was able to get us out of it before we got stuck.
Slowly and carefully motored up the channel to the fuel dock. As we'd been told, there was plenty of water. Tying to the dock was a little tricky, because there were boats sticking their prows out near both ends of the dock, but we made it ok. We had planned on filling the tank and eight jerry cans, but when the eighth can was being filled, something went wrong with the electricity to the pump, and the attendant couldn't fix it. It didn't really matter; we now have more than enough diesel to get to New England.
Left the channel and headed out of Delaware Bay, between Cape May and Cape Henlopen. Then we turned northeast towards Sandy Hook. It felt good to be on the ocean again after all these weeks. Having 80 feet of water under the keel instead of 8 is a reassuring feeling, and the water is much cleaner.
This is our first overnighter in a long time. It's approximately 150 miles to Sandy Hook, so we should get there early tomorrow afternoon. It's hard to believe we're going to sail into New York Harbor, right by the Statue of Liberty! Roy clearly remembers how thrilled he was to see the Statue when he was brought home from overseas at the end of World War II.
Solved one mystery--a heavy rolling noise at night. It turned out to be a squeeze-gun cartridge of marine sealer in one of the compartments under the bed. We're glad to get that mystery solved, but we still have the mystery of my Costa Rican sandals, that disappeared in Wilmington during the near-catastrophe. I've hunted all over the boat and can't find hide nor hair of them, but it doesn't seem possible they could have fallen off the boat, even at 30 degrees. I had left them under the seat on the starboard bench. When the boat listed, they would have fallen on the floor, but to get off the boat, they would have had to jump up and over the side of the cockpit, which seems unlikely, but where are they? Roy has no recollection of putting them anyplace. The only likely possibility I can come up with is that their velcro straps stuck to a sail cover or something and the whole thing was bundled up and put in the fo'c'sle, in which case they'll eventually be found. I hope so, because I really liked those sandals. They could be worn in the water, on the sand, on city sidewalks, on the deck, any place. They were waterproof, cool and comfortable, and had non-slip soles. At least it's cool enough now to wear regular shoes. But how could anything get lost on a little bitty sailboat?

Saturday, August 21, 1993 - Lewes, Delaware

This is the day we thought we'd be arriving in New York Harbor, but here we sit in Lewes. There's a 20-knot wind out of the north, which isn't propitious for northbound sailing. The weather forecast for tomorrow and Monday is favorable, so we'll probably leave in the morning. It's a good thing we didn't agree to meet Linda in New Haven on the 22nd; we'd never have made it.
This harbor is protected from the east, south, and west, so of course the wind is blowing from the north, where there's no protection whatsoever. The Jofian is rocking and bouncing like crazy. I've been taking Dramamine to keep from getting seasick at anchor!
We've been invaded by flies the past couple of days. We've been swatting like crazy, but for every one we zap, a dozen more take its place. We even bought two more fly swatters, so we can have one in the main cabin, one in the cockpit, and one in the aft cabin.
The wind and waves died down a little in the afternoon, so we paddled to town. Had a hard time getting into our Royaks with the boat bouncing up and down. When we did get in them, we paddled against the wind for a few minutes to be sure we could handle it, and then we blew into the channel.
Crossed the bridge and wandered around. We wanted to get a Tide Tables book, but no one had any. Got a local tide table at one store. We also wanted to get some fresh fish for supper, but didn't find any that looked good, and it was very expensive, so we went back to the IGA market and bought some chicken and a few other groceries.
The wind had died down considerably by the time we got back to our Royaks, so we didn't have any problem returning to the boat.

Friday, August 20, 1993 - Lewes, Delaware

We needed diesel before heading out into the Atlantic on our way to New York. Since we couldn't get to the fuel dock in Delaware City, Roy was thinking of going all the way back to Chesapeake City for it, but I suggested heading south to Lewes, which is right at the entrance to Delaware Bay. According to our reliable "Waterway Guide", Lewes has marinas and fuel docks, and is also an interesting historical town, having been a leading whaling port in the 1800's. Roy accepted my suggestion, and we headed south.
Thunderstorms were predicted for the evening, and the sky was cloudy all day. We were able to sail part of the way, but when we had to change course, the wind was against us, so we had to take in the sails.
Roy quickly found the problem with the VHF transmitter--the switch was stuck. He loosened it up, and now it works perfectly.
It was fifty miles to Lewes. We got there about 6:30 in the evening. Before entering the channel, I tried to call the Harbormaster on the VHF. There was no response, so I called any marina and then anyone who could give us information about the channel. The Coast Guard responded and said the channel was only about four feet deep at low tide, and it was low tide right then. So much for taking Jofian to the fuel dock. We anchored in ten feet of water near the entrance.
We needed a few groceries, so we paddled to town, which proved to be considerably farther than we had thought--maybe four miles up the river. There really was a marina, but it didn't look like much. We also found the fuel dock. The attendant assured us that we wouldn't have any problem getting in and out at high tide, so we'll try it tomorrow.
Took our Royaks up the town's launch ramp and walked half a mile or so to the grocery store, where we bought as much as we could carry. It was getting late, so we decided to eat supper at a small restaurant.
Just as we were finishing our meal, lightning started flashing, thunder boomed, and the rain came down in sheets. Before leaving the boat, I had closed the forward hatch, checked the portholes, and closed the cockpit curtain on the windward side, but even though we both knew thunderstorms were predicted, neither of us thought to take rain gear with us. We knew we'd get drenched and cold if we went out in that downpour, so we sat in the restaurant as long as we could, but it was nearly time for them to close. We explained our predicament to the waitress and asked for a couple of plastic trash bags to put over our heads. She was very nice and not only gave us the bags but drove us back to the launch ramp. By then the rain was letting up and the wind had died down, so we were able to paddle back to the Jofian without getting wet.

Thursday, August 19, 1993 - Delaware City

What a beautiful morning! The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and the Jofian is afloat in twenty feet of water!
Roy checked the boat for damage. One of the running backstays had pulled loose from the deck. That was the only damage he found that resulted from yesterday's near catastrophe. He also found a problem with the autopilot, but that was unrelated, and he was able to repair it fairly quickly.
Our purpose in coming to Wilmington was to visit our "Corporate Headquarters" (Yacht Registry) and to pick up any mail that might have arrived for Jofian, Inc., so we took the bus to Baynard Boulevard. We had been speculating as to what the office would look like and were pleasantly surprised when we saw it. The Yacht Registry has its own small, attractive building in a residential area. The people there welcomed us and showed us around. As soon as we said we were from Jofian, Inc., they knew we had come for our mail, but there wasn't any mail for us. The gave us two nice T-shirts.
On our way back to the boat, we stopped at a Woolworth's for some ice cream, but it was nearly noon, so we ate lunch instead.
When we were back on the Jofian, Roy did some more work, and I plotted our course to New York and began typing yesterday's events for the log.
Since we didn't want to overstay our welcome, we decided to move the boat to the barges the Port Director had said we could tie to. We said our goodbyes and took off, but when we saw the barges, we decided not to stay there but to go on down to Delaware City, where there are marinas and fuel docks (where have I heard that before?)
We zoomed down to Delaware City, but before entering the channel, we called the marina on the VHF. That's when we discovered that the VHF wasn't transmitting, even though reception was perfect. Now we know why we weren't able to talk to the Marine Operator, the Seagull, etc. Fortunately, we have a back-up, hand-held VHF, so we were able to communicate with that. The woman at the marina said she didn't have a slip available, but we could raft to another boat. She assured us there was seven to fifteen feet of water in the channel, so we started into it, but just as at Chesapeake City, we immediately went aground, but Roy was able to back the boat off. So much for Delaware City and its marinas and fuel docks.
On our way to Delaware City, we had passed a schooner that was anchored near the entrance to the C & D Canal, so we went back there and anchored, too. A young man from the schooner, "Genevieve", came over in the dinghy and talked with Roy for a while. He had recently been discharged from the Navy in San Diego. The boat belonged to his mother, who lived in Florida, and they were on their way to New York. There was a problem with the engine, which he had to fix as soon as it cooled off. He was concerned about the strong and contradictory currents in the area, so he discussed anchoring with Roy. When he returned to the "Genevieve", he called us on the VHF a couple of times, so that gave me an opportunity to further check the transmission. It was definitely not functioning on the wall-mounted VHF, so we had to use the hand-held.

Wednesday, August 18, 1993 - Wilmington

It's hard to believe that a day that started off so nicely could end in near disaster, yet by evening, Jofian was in the most precarious predicament of her entire life.
After breakfast, Roy put his Royak in the water and scrubbed some more of the yuck off the hull, but the current was so strong, he soon gave it up.
The day was very pleasant: blue sky, fleecy clouds, ideal temperature. The scenery along the canal was lovely: lots of large, green trees and expensive homes. The canal is only 12 miles long, so we were through it before noon. Our timing was perfect. Just before we emerged into Delaware Bay, the most enormous barge I've ever seen went by. It must have been as high as a six-storey building. I was very glad it had gone by before we got there. Two large freighters were approaching, but the first one crossed in front of us before I reached the channel, and the second was far enough away that I was able to cross the channel and get outside the channel before it got close. It passed me just before I came to shallow places, so then I was able to get back into the channel.
Wilmington lies on the Christina River. Roy was at the wheel when we reached the buoys marking the river entrance. I thought he had seen the buoys, but it turned out, he was looking at two other buoys and nearly missed the entrance. Fortunately, I said something in time for him to turn.
The good old "Waterway Guide" lied to us again. I'll never believe another word in that book. It said there were several marinas up the Christina River. There was one small marina near the entrance, but it was too shallow for us to go into. There were no other marinas. I tried to call the Harbor Master on VHF for information, but there was no response. Then I put out a call to any marina operator. Again no response. We had gone a mile or two up the river.
Ahead of us was a low bridge, and the chart showed shallow water past the bridge, so we decided to go no farther until we had some positive information. On the right bank, was a sturdy retaining wall, and beyond the wall we saw green grass and trees, so we thought it was a city park. Roy decided to tie to the wall for a brief time, so we could walk around and get some information. I didn't like the idea of tying to that wall, because there was absolutely nothing to tie to, and it was metal, not wood, but Roy went up to it anyway, after carefully checking the depth and finding it to be 19 feet. Since there was nothing to tie to, I attached the throwing anchor to the center line and tossed it over the wall. Then I climbed over the wall into the "park".
Almost immediately, I realized I'd goofed. In front of me was a chain-link fence with a gate and a guard shack. To the right were buildings that appeared to be some sort of light manufacturing plant. There were monitoring cameras all over the place. When I reached the guard shack, I was greeted by a security guard wearing a large badge. She immediately demanded, "How did you get in here?" With visions of being hauled off to the local hoosegow for trespassing, I blurted out my story. Fortunately, the guard believed my farfetched tale. She even let me look in the phone book, but I couldn't find any marinas listed. I did, however, find a listing for the Port Director, so I called him and was told there were no other marinas in the Christina River than the one we had seen, but we could tie to two old barges near the entrance.
By the time I got back to the boat, a young man was talking with Roy. The man's name was Dave. He works here at Noramco, a pharmaceutical firm. He's a machinist, but he also has a small sailboat and loves to sail. He was warning Roy that there were large cement blocks next to the wall, and the Jofian was probably sitting on them. When the tide went out, she'd only have two or three feet of water underneath her even though there was plenty of water farther away from the wall. The tide was already going out--fast. As soon as I heard this, I took a look at the depth gauges. The one on the starboard side (next to the wall) was already down to five feet. I called to Roy a couple of times that we'd better get out of there right that moment. By the time he stopped talking and started the engine, it was too late; we were sitting on the cement blocks in three feet of water. He gunned the engine, and the people on the other side of the wall (four or five by then) tried to push us off, but to no avail. A Marine Patrol boat tried to tow us off. Half an hour earlier, they would have succeeded, but now it was too late. We had no alternative but to wait until the tide went out and came in again.
The great danger was that as the tide went out, Jofian would tilt farther and farther to port, eventually getting her port rail under water. Then she'd fill with water and sink, resulting in tens of thousands of dollars damage. Roy and Dave set about fastening the Jofian to the wall so she couldn't fall over. Roy got out two more anchors, attached them to the strong hundred foot lines he'd bought for going through the Panama Canal, put the anchors over the wall, and winched the lines tight. He had the bow and center attached and was getting ready to attach the stern, when to our dismay the stern suddenly slipped off the block into deeper water, causing the boat to twist around so the bow was against the wall while the stern was sticking out into the river. By then she was starting to list to port. Roy attached two lines to the stern, including one he wrapped completely around the hull near the stern, and anchored them to the wall. Then he climbed the ladder while we all held our breath, afraid the boat would go over with him on it. He tied two lines around the mast and spreaders. The other ends of the lines were attached to the grate over a storm drain in the lawn. Dave had brought two come-alongs from the shop, so they were used to tighten the lines. So there hung our beautiful Jofian, the sorriest sight imaginable. The bow had slid way down the wall, fortunately protected by the bow anchor. The stern was sticking up in the air, and the entire boat was listing thirty degrees over the river. We both feared she wouldn't make it. If any one of the lines gave way, the strain on the other lines would have probably caused them to part and the Jofian would have gone over on her side, and that would have been the end of her.
Roy got his camera out and took several pictures of her in case we had to file an insurance claim.
Everyone here was just as nice as could be. Dave knocked himself out helping Roy, a security guard named Shirley drove me to a super market and back so I could get a dozen eggs (at the time, I wondered if I'd ever be able to cook them), and Larry from the Fireboat Station next door invited us to make ourselves at home in the firehouse while we waited for the tide to turn.
I phoned the Coast Guard and found out the next high tide would be at 4:03 a.m. By the time the boat was all tied up, it was about seven o'clock, so we had a long wait ahead of us. There was nothing more we could do for the boat, so we invited Dave and Larry to go to supper at a restaurant with us. Larry declined but Dave accepted and drove us to a Sizzler, where we enjoyed a delicious meal, despite our fears for the Jofian.
When we returned, we were relieved to see the Jofian just as we had left her, except her stern was much farther out of the water. Nearly the entire rudder was exposed, and the propeller was two feet above the water line. The tide had slowed down and soon turned. The tide came in as fast as it had gone out. We could actually see it rising. What joy as the Jofian righted herself! By eleven o'clock, she was upright and afloat. The Fire Chief had given us permission to raft to the Fire Boat, about 100 feet ahead of us. Roy started the engine, released the lines, and Jofian floated away from the dock effortlessly. The current was strong and a low bridge was just beyond the Fire Boat, so Roy quickly turned the Jofian around, and with Larry's assistance, we tied to the Fire Boat. What a relief to be afloat again!
Larry gave us the grand tour of the Fire Boat. It had been an old fishing boat that the Fire Department had bought in 1989. The Firefighters had refurbished it themselves, and they did a terrific job. The boat had everything and really looked nice. The pilot house was paneled and had all kinds of instruments. The engine room was huge and had two powerful engines. The galley and crew's quarters were attractive and roomy. We greatly appreciated the tour. And Larry even gave me a Marine Firefighter T-shirt!

Tuesday, August 17, 1993 - Wilmington

Finally on our way to Wilmington! Got up at six and left a little before eight. Dead calm, so we had no difficulty leaving the dock.
Most of the day was hot, humid, hazy, and calm. Visibility was less than two miles, but there were plenty of channel markers, and they were close enough together to enable us to see the next pair ahead. A breeze came up briefly, so we unfurled the headsail, but we soon had to bring it in again.
Reached the entrance to the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal in the early evening. According to the guide book, there was a free government dock in the anchorage basin across from Chesapeake City, and the water was six feet deep there, so we decided to go there for the night. Our chart showed 9 to 11 feet of water throughout the basin. Ho ho. We barely started into the anchorage when we found ourselves aground in five feet of water. Fortunately, the ground was soft mud and Roy had been going very slowly, so he was able to back out. Then we went across the canal and tied to the dock in front of the restaurant. According to the famous guide book, we could stay there free while eating in the restaurant and could even stay all night. Ho ho again. They wanted a ridiculous $1.35 a foot! And it wasn't even a floating dock; we had to climb several feet from the boat to the dock. Roy checked the prices at the restaurant, and they were just as exorbitant, so we untied real fast and headed back up the canal. The only safe place we could see to anchor was just outside the entrance to the canal, near Welch Point.
By then, the thunderstorm had hit. Rain was pouring down and lightning was flashing. The temperature dropped dramatically. Roy could scarcely see the buoys through the rain and darkness. When we were almost to the anchorage, Roy saw a huge container ship coming towards us, so he pulled way over to the right side of the channel. While he was busy watching the ship in front of us, I glanced back and nearly jumped out of my skin--an even more humungous container ship was coming up behind us, fast. I told Roy, and he got out of the channel altogether. The two behemoths were barely able to squeeze past each other.
We anchored in six feet of water, 150 feet outside the channel. The big ships can't attack us here.

Monday, August 16, 1993 - Baltimore

More sanding and varnishing. The boat's starting to look like the Jofian again. Thunderstorms were predicted for the afternoon, so we only varnished in the morning. As it turned out, there were just a few sprinkles of rain, but it was enough to keep us from varnishing.
In the afternoon, I worked on the log, and Roy rode his bike to the marine supply store. Found out why the cable hadn't come in--it hadn't been shipped! So they canceled the order and refunded Roy's deposit.
Roy brought back a pint of ice cream from the convenience store. Boy, was it good!
I talked with Linda on the phone about her plan to fly up to Long Island and sail with us for a few days, but it turned out there's a major time crunch. We expect to reach New York Harbor the 21st. Linda has a doctor's appointment the 23rd, and the preliminary hearing for her lawsuit is the 25th. Gina's school starts the 30th. So I guess we'll have to wait for a better opportunity to take Linda and Gina sailing.
Roy talked with his son Steve on the phone, and found out he hasn't sent the mail any place, but will now send it to Sag Harbor. The insurance policy for the boat arrived and so did Roy's renewal membership card in Boat U.S., so Steve gave him those numbers over the phone.
I walked to the grocery store and bought a few groceries and a gallon of distilled water for the batteries, while Roy changed the impeller.

Sunday, August 15, 1993 - Baltimore

Another hot, dry day, so we continued sanding and varnishing. Roy's been working on the starboard rubrail and the toe rails. I put the last coat on the doghouse and the first coat on the port toe rail.
Also scrubbed some of the gook off the hull. You can now tell it used to be painted white. The oil and slime and filth were unbelievable. A passerby said, "Welcome to Chesapeake Bay!"
Roy wanted to get some things from the Boat U.S. marine supply store, so we took the bus over there. We had planned on then taking a bus to York Road and eating supper in the Sizzler Linda had told us about, but when we came out of Boat U.S., to our surprise and joy, there was a Sizzler right in front of us, so we ate there.
Linda and Gina rode in the MADD 10K bike ride today. It went well and raised quite a bit of money for MADD.

Saturday, August 14, 1993 - Baltimore

Roy continued working on the rub rail and cabin side. I sanded and varnished the doghouse for the fifth time. Just one more to go! I also scrubbed some of the filth off the hull.
In the evening, Roy rode his bike to the marine store for paint remover and stuff. Still no cable. I went to Super Fresh for a few more groceries. We were going to take the bus to the Boat US marine supply store, but it was too late by the time we were ready to leave, so we decided to go tomorrow. Roy went back to removing varnish, while I fixed supper and typed the log.
Our rent here is paid through Monday night, so we'll leave for Wilmington Tuesday morning. Should reach Manhattan the 21st. Linda and Gina are going to fly to New Haven or some place and go sailing with us up there.

Friday, August 13, 1993 - Baltimore

Roy dug the blue wagon out of the fo'c'sle, and I hauled about 60 pounds of dirty clothes to the laundromat. We were just about out of clean socks. Now we've got plenty.
In the afternoon, I sanded and varnished the doghouse for the fourth time. Roy spent most of the day removing the old varnish from the cabin and applying new varnish. He also started on the rub rail.
Linda and Gina stopped by for a few minutes to get their bicycle helmets, which they had inadvertently left on the boat. Roy had found the helmets in the fo'c'sle yesterday.
In the early evening, I walked over to Broadway with the wagon to check out the IGA market over there, but I didn't like it nearly so well as Super Fresh. It was too crowded, and most of the prices were too high. I had hoped to get some good fish there, but they didn't have anything worth carrying home. They did, however, have really good whole wheat bread and nice heads of cabbage for 25 cents a pound, so I bought that anyway.
Roy rode his bike to the marine supply store again, but the cable still wasn't in.

Thursday, August 12, 1993 - Baltimore

This was not one of Roy's better days. First thing in the morning, he put on his diving gear and plunged into the cesspool that's known as Baltimore Harbor to get the piece of line off the prop. Fortunately, it was a short piece, so it came right off, and he didn't have to stay down more than a minute. As soon as he got out, he took a shower, and I washed his gear.
When he was dressed, he wanted to ride his bike to a marine supply store, but he couldn't find his red backpack (actually, more like a book bag than a backpack, but that's what we call it.) I loaned him mine, and he took off.
I started sanding the doghouse for the third coat of varnish. When Roy got back, he said the speedometer cable he'd ordered for the Sumlog hadn't come in. He removed the old varnish from the front of the cabin and revarnished it. I varnished the doghouse, and then went to the store.
Just as I was returning from the store, Roy came riding out of the marina on his bicycle. He asked me if I'd seen his billfold. I hadn't. He thought he might have left it on the counter in the store, so he was going to ride over there and see if they had it.
I took the groceries to the boat and put them away. Then I went to the aft cabin to look for his billfold. Almost immediately, I found his red backpack, right where it belonged. Seconds later, I found his billfold. Presumably, he'd taken it out of his pocket when he changed pants and laid it down. Then he forgot about it and didn't remember what he'd done with it.
I tried to phone the store to let Roy know I'd found his billfold, but I didn't know the name of the store. By the time I'd phoned around and gotten the number, Roy had left.
When he got back to the boat, he said, "I hope you found my billfold."
To tease him, I said, "I hope you had a nice ride."
He repeated, "I hope you found my billfold." Then I told him I'd found his billfold and his backpack as well. Was he surprised and happy!

Wednesday, August 11, 1993 - Annapolis

(Left to right: Linda (our sister) behind the boom, Mom, Gina (Linda's daughter) aboard Jofian with the spinnaker flying.)
Went for a little trolley bus ride around downtown Annapolis. Saw the State House, the stadium where the Army-Navy games are played, a lot of old houses, part of the Naval Academy, etc.
Left around noon. Had a good breeze when we started out, so we were able to sail with the main, the headsail, the staysail, and the mizzen, but soon the breeze died to nearly nothing, so we took in all those sails, and Roy raised the spinnaker again. The breeze was just right for the spinnaker. We enjoyed a really delightful sail all the way back to Baltimore.
Everything had gone perfectly all day. When we were a mile from the marina, Roy took down the spinnaker. By then, the breeze had picked up quite a bit, so he had to struggle with it. He let the sheets fly freely, thinking that would make the struggle a little easier. But Murphy was at work. One of the sheets wrapped around the prop or the rudder. Roy cut it with a knife, and we were able to make it to the marina, but tomorrow he'll have to dive on it.

Tuesday, August 10, 1993 - Annapolis

Linda and Gina went for a swim in the marina pool, while Roy and I rode our bikes around. Stopped at the Post Office for some postcard stamps and at a grocery store for a few groceries.
We had to be out of the marina by noon or pay for another day. We left at exactly five minutes to twelve. The boats around us had already left, so it was easy to get out.
We motored out to the bay, looking for a breeze, so we could sail. Finally, a very light breeze came up, so Roy raised the spinnaker. It was the first or second time we'd used the new spinnaker. It sure looked pretty, with all its bright colors, and it worked really well. We turned off the engine and sailed along so peacefully.
We decided to spend the night in Annapolis. Went by a dozen Navy ships on maneuvers, training midshipmen. Tied up at the city docks, right in the heart of downtown Annapolis. It was the busiest place we've ever had the boat. Crowds of people kept walking by, and many of them stopped to admire the Jofian. There was even a free outdoor concert. Some little brat disconnected our electric cord. I was taping an interesting program at the time, too. After supper, we crossed the street to an ice cream parlor, and Linda treated us to ice cream. Yum!

Monday, August 9, 1993 - Saint Michaels

(Mom with granddaughter Gina on the dock.)
There's a water taxi here, so we were going to take it ashore after breakfast and walk around town, but when I tried to call it on the VHF, there was no response. There's a town dock here where you can tie up free for two hours, so we went in there. Then we found out the taxi doesn't start operating until 11:00. I'd been trying to call him at quarter to eleven.
We priced the two marinas here. One was $1.40 a foot, and the other was $1.50 a foot, plus $4 for electricity. Ridiculous.
Linda and Gina had brought their bikes, so we put our bikes together and went for a little ride. When our two hours were up, we returned to the anchorage and ate lunch.
We debated what to do next. Should we try to find another town with lower rates, or should we remain at anchor, or should we splurge and spend a night at the marina that charges $1.40 an hour? We finally decided to do the last, since it was getting fairly late.
After we were tied to the dock, we went bicycling again. Saw some really pretty scenery. I picked up a few groceries on the way back.
After we returned to the marina, Gina and I went swimming in the marina pool. Roy went for another bike ride by himself. Then we ate a late supper.

Sunday, August 8, 1993 - Baltimore

We decided to pay for another week at the marina, because we'd have had to pay for two more nights anyway (last night and next Wednesday), and that would have cost $60. For $15 more, we get to stay a week, and we have lots to do on the boat.
Linda and Gina arrived around 9:30, and we took off. There was no wind, so we had to motor the entire 50 miles to Saint Michaels. Dropped anchor, ate supper, and went to bed early.

Saturday, August 7, 1993 - Baltimore

Today was supposed to be sunny and warm, but it was overcast and humid--not a good varnishing day. We needed some charts, so we decided to go to a chart store right after breakfast and then come back and work on the boat. Roy needed to repair the generator, change the impeller, change the oil, etc. I wanted to write some post cards and work on the log.
We took the bus downtown and transferred to the bus that went close to the chart store. That happened to be the same bus that went to Fort McHenry, so we figured we might as well go there while we were so close. It turned out that the last stretch of road to the fort is being rebuilt, so the bus no longer goes all the way to the fort, so we had to walk the last mile. We wandered around the fort, listened to the ranger, who was very interesting, and watched the "soldiers" in 1812 uniforms firing muskets.
We walked to the chart store and spent half an hour or more looking at charts and chart books. Bought a large-scale chart of Wilmington and vicinity. Bought a chart book that includes New York Harbor, Long Island Sound, Narragansett Bay, Buzzards Bay, and Nantucket.
Waited for the bus and rode it to Inner Harbor. We hadn't had lunch and it was 3 o'clock, so we went to a cafe at the Inner Harbor and had sandwiches and delicious carrot cake.
By the time we got back to the boat, it was 5:30. Roy had planned on paddling his Royak to a fuel dock to fill the five-gallon gasoline can for the generator and to get some parts at the nearby marine supply store, but since it was so late, he decided to take the Jofian over there, as it would be much faster. We rushed around disconnecting the electric cord and the hose, casting off the lines on the port side and then the lines on the starboard side. We walked the boat back to the end of the dock, jumped on, and Roy hurried into the cockpit to rev up the engine and turn the wheel. Oops! In our haste, we both forgot that he had removed the steering wheel on Monday to make more room in the cockpit when we ate supper with Linda and Gina. The wheel was still in the fo'c'sle. Luckily, the wind was blowing towards the dock; if it had blown the boat away from the dock, we'd have been in serious trouble. We tied up again, and Roy replaced the wheel. Then we tried to take off again, but the wind kept blowing us back. Finally, Roy got the pole down and pushed us away from the dock. At last we were on our way.
When we got to the fuel dock, the attendant handed me a line when I handed him our bow line. I attached the line to a cleat and stopped the boat too soon, so we had to undo it and pull the boat forward.
We had come to the fuel dock to fill the five-gallon gasoline can.
Guess where the can was--sitting on the dock at the marina. There are days and there are days. But we had a two-gallon can and a one-gallon can, so we filled those. That will give us plenty of gas for several days.
Roy was going to put 25 gallons of diesel in the tank, but when he found out it cost $1.15 a gallon, he only put in 10. The last time we got diesel, it was 79 cents a gallon.
Roy went over to the marine supply store to get the stuff he needed there. It had closed at six.
When we got back to the marina, we put the boat in stern first, so it will be easy to get out in the morning. That operation went smoothly.

Friday, August 6, 1993 - Baltimore

Rain was predicted for today, and rain it did. It was raining when we got up, and it rained most of the day, but it wasn't a heavy rain, except for a few minutes in the morning. While we were eating breakfast, lightning flashed overhead and there was a deafening clap of thunder, but then the thunder and lightning moved on and we just had rain.
The rain has really cooled things off. I put on long pants, solid shoes, and a sweatshirt for the first time in months. Roy has been wearing long pants, solid shoes, and a shirt for several days. It's hard to believe it was so hot a few days ago, and now it's so cool. The temperature is actually down in the 60's!
Since we couldn't varnish today, we decided to ride buses and do some sightseeing. Also, we wanted to go by the Post Office and get Roy's mail from General Delivery, but when we got there, they didn't have any mail for him, so Roy thinks maybe he told Steve to send his mail to Wilmington. He'll phone Steve later and find out.
Across the street from the Post Office is what looks like a tall brick smokestack. It's called "Shot Tower". We crossed the street to find out what it was. It was built in the early 1800's out of more than a million bricks and was used to make lead shot for guns. Molten lead was poured through a sieve at the top of the tower and fell 240 feet into a large basin of water. The falling shaped the lead into pellets and the water cooled it off. It produced nearly half a million pounds of shot a year for a number of years before becoming outmoded. Now, of course, it's a historical landmark.
I wanted to see Edgar Allen Poe's grave, so we took a bus to within a block or two of where it is. Unfortunately (as it turned out), I saw a sign pointing to Poe's house, so we headed in that direction. We walked for blocks, following the signs. We soon found ourselves in a poverty-stricken ghetto area. We were making puns about all the houses being po' houses, and we hoped we didn't end up in the po' house. Roy kept saying we were in the wrong part of town and should get out of there, but I said we were almost to Poe's house and kept going. The signs led us around corners. In fact, we made a loop. I can't understand why they didn't have us go directly around the corner to the house, instead of going a block out of the way and doubling back. Maybe it was a one-way street. Anyway, we were walking down a side street, looking for the house, when a young man stepped off his front porch and asked us if we were looking for the Poe house. He offered to take us there. We figured he was like the guy in Coxen's Hole and would want a tip for his "services", so I said, "Don't put yourself out; we'll find it," but he insisted on showing us the way. At first he walked in front of us, but then he went around in back of us. Suddenly, he put his hand inside his jacket as if he had a gun in his pocket (maybe he did), and he said, "Take all your money out of your pockets." I didn't believe what I was hearing, so I said, "What?" He said, "Take all the money out of your pockets." I held out my empty hands to show I wasn't carrying a purse and said, "I don't have any." (Actually, my wallet was in my backpack, which was under my rain poncho.) Like a broken record, he kept repeating, "Take all the money out of your pockets." I was trying to figure out whether or not I should take him seriously and hand over my money. He was soft-spoken and didn't seem threatening. I couldn't quite believe he actually had a gun and would use it in broad daylight with other people around. He didn't act deranged or anything like that. In fact, he seemed like a courteous young man.
I kept holding my hands out and saying, "I don't have any," and he kept saying, "Take all the money out of your pockets." I guess he finally believed me, because he switched to: "Tell your husband to take all the money out of his pockets." I don't know why he didn't address Roy directly; perhaps he thought Roy was more likely to hand over his money if he threatened me. Roy said, "We're old people living on Social Security. We don't have any money."
"Take all the money out of your pockets."
Roy was trying to decide whether he should hand over his money or tackle this guy who was a mere 50 years younger than Roy. If he had sounded more threatening or had flashed a gun or some of his friends had crawled out of the woodwork to help him, we probably would have handed over our money. Even if he'd repeated the old tune, "Take all the money out of your pockets," three or four more times, I'd have probably given him my money. We had less than $100 between us; it certainly wasn't worth risking our lives for. But suddenly a miracle happened. We don't know if we convinced him we didn't have any money or he saw a Police car in the distance or what, but out of the blue he said, "Just joking," turned around, and walked away.
Roy hurried me around the corner onto a busier street. We had been right in front of the Edgar Allen Poe house, and I had wanted to at least look at it, but Roy grabbed my arm and said, "Let's get out of here fast." We were delighted to see a Police Officer half a block away. We hurried up to him and told him what had happened. He asked for a description of the man. Neither of us had looked at him closely enough to really be able to describe him. The best we could do was say he was a young black male, perhaps twenty to twenty-five, tall and slender, clean-shaven, dressed in black and carrying a black umbrella. That description would have fit a thousand guys in the neighborhood. The best clue was that he apparently lived right around the corner; he had been on the front porch of a house and had spoken to a woman inside. The Police Officer asked us if we wanted to see the Poe house, but Roy said, "No, thank you!" The officer and another officer who had come up walked in the direction of the street we had just come from. Roy and I walked as fast as we could back towards the University of Maryland Medical Center, just a few blocks away.
It was after two and we hadn't had lunch, so we were famished. There weren't any restaurants in the area, so we decided to see if we could eat in the hospital cafeteria. We went into what I thought was the hospital Linda had been in, but as soon as we entered the lobby, I knew something was wrong. I didn't remember any escalators in the lobby. Then I saw a sign. We were in the V.A. hospital. But there was a canteen on the second floor, and the man at the desk said we could go up there, so we did. We were too late for lunch, but there were prepackaged sandwiches, salads, and pies, so we were able to eat.
How good it felt to be in a safe environment, intact in both body and wallet! That was the closest either of us had ever come to being held up. Our houses had been burglarized a couple of times when no one was home, but we'd never been face to face with a thief before. The whole incident still seemed unreal.
After lunch we walked across the street to the churchyard where Edgar Allen Poe's grave is. There was a monument to him and other members of his family. There were also a lot of other old crypts and gravestones, some of them dating back to the 1790's.
Roy wanted to get the battery charger repaired, so we took a bus to a store we'd read an ad for that did marine electronics repairs.
They said they'd have to send it out and it would take at least ten days. Since we don't expect to be here ten more days, that ended that.
Roy's right shoe was hurting his toes, so we went to a couple of shoe stores and finally found a comfortable pair of shoes, which he bought. With them on, he could walk comfortably.
We walked a few blocks to the Inner Harbor and visited the old frigate, "Constellation", which was built in 1797 and was one of the first boats ever built for the United States Navy. The woodwork was remarkable. The visit was very interesting.
We wanted to go up to the observation floor in the World Trade building, but it was closed, so we returned to the boat.

Thursday, August 5, 1993 - Baltimore

Sanded the doghouse again in preparation for the second coat. The big decision was whether or not to varnish. No rain was forecast, but there were a lot of dark clouds. NOAA said the clouds held no precipitation, but my eyeballs told me otherwise. The sun came out for a few seconds, so I took the plunge and started varnishing. Of course, as soon as I finished, it started sprinkling. We quickly put the blue canvas over the varnished wood. The sprinkle didn't last long, fortunately, so the varnish had a chance to nearly dry before the next rain hit. Again the canvas cover saved the day, so I was really in luck.
Tomorrow, it's supposed to rain all day, so we'll go sightseeing on the bus.
Linda's going to get in as many hours as possible at work this week to make up for the days she'll miss next week. She and Gina will come out to the boat early Sunday morning. I plotted our course, and it's 48 miles, so we'll have to leave no later than nine to get there before dark. I checked with the dockmaster, and she said it was okay for Linda to leave her car in the parking lot here, no charge.
Roy finally found a store that has the "Hurricane Havens Handbook", but it isn't a book (we're not sure what it is), and it costs around $200. Now we know why stores don't carry it. We've decided to live without it.
They have strange-looking "vacuum-cleaner" boats here that go around slurping up the styrofoam cups and plastic bottles and other trash in the water. It's a great idea and really helps, but they don't come to the marina, so the marina is loaded with trash. And the water itself is a yucky brown. Someone who has lived here all his life told us the water is a lot cleaner than it used to be. I'm glad I didn't see it the way it used to be. I don't see how anything can live in this water, yet there are fish, crabs, jellyfish, and even ducks with cute little baby duckies.

Wednesday, August 4, 1993 - Baltimore

Finished sanding and varnishing the doghouse. First coat, that is. Only five more coats to go. But the first one's the hardest, because so much of the old varnish has to be removed. In some places, you have to sand right down to the wood.
Roy ran a lot of errands on his bicycle. Bought some more groceries (including ice cream). And he worked on the boat.
Linda has to work late again today, so she won't be coming to the boat.
In the afternoon, I took my film to a drugstore to get it developed. Then I was going to take the bus to another grocery store to check it out. The bus was supposed to run every half hour, but I sat on a bench for an hour and didn't see a bus. Then all of a sudden three in a row went by in the other direction. Since I was close to the end of the line, I figured one would come back in my direction in a few minutes. When ten minutes went by with no bus, I took a closer look at the map on the schedule. Guess what. I was all turned around as usual. I should have caught the bus on the other side of the street.
Not wanting to waste another hour, I bought a few groceries at Super Fresh and returned to the marina. Good thing I did, because a terrific thunderstorm started just as I got there. The wind was blowing 35 knots, the waves were crashing over the docks, the rain was coming down in torrents. It was great! I've always loved feeling the wind and rain in my face. Most refreshed I'd felt all day. I stayed out on the dock enjoying it, while Roy stood in the doghouse calling me a nut. So what else is new?

Tuesday, August 3, 1993 - Baltimore

Before leaving Richmond, I had spent weeks sanding and varnishing all the exterior woodwork on the Jofian, but the tropical sun had totally destroyed the varnish, so this morning I began sanding the doghouse, thinking I could do the whole thing in a few hours. Ha ha.
Phoned Linda at her office around 11:30. She was exhausted from two late nights in a row, so she was going to stay home and rest this afternoon instead of coming to the boat. (She usually just works in the morning, but yesterday she had to work half the afternoon.) She also told me she's going to have to work this Saturday, so instead of going to St. Michaels Thursday and returning Sunday, we'll leave Sunday and return Wednesday.
Continued sanding while Roy repaired the door to his head. At one o'clock, he took me to lunch. First we walked next door to the Bay Cafe, but the cheapest item on their menu was a turkey sandwich for $6.95, so we left without ordering and went to the deli at Anchorage Marina. They had delicious turkey sandwiches for $3.25, which was a lot more to our liking. In addition to the sandwiches, we had pink lemonade and ice cream bars, and the whole thing came to less than we would have paid for just the sandwiches at the Bay Cafe.
Continued sanding with Roy's help, but didn't get finished. Will finish in the morning.
Roy paddled to a marine supply store to order a new speedometer cable for the Sumlog, and I typed the log. Roy found out the Sumlog is no longer being manufactured, but there are some cables still available--for around $75. Roy's going to do some more checking before ordering.

Monday, August 2, 1993 - Baltimore

Got up early and took the bus to the Post Office while Roy was still asleep. Had no problem finding the Post Office and getting my mail from General Delivery. Found out I could have gotten it Saturday afternoon; the Main Post Office stays open until five p.m. on Saturday.
Went to the Social Security office to get a replacement for my lost Medicare card. Had to sit and wait for an hour or two, but I had a book with me, so that was okay. Got a temporary authorization, and a new card will be mailed to me in thirty days.
Next, I went on a fruitless search for a bus map. A brochure we had been given said they were available at the Inner Harbor Dockmaster's office, so I walked over there, but they were out. Stopped at the Visitors' Information booth, but they didn't have any either. The woman said I'd have to go to the MTA office to get one. I thought she said the office was at Lexington and Market, so I went looking for that intersection. When I couldn't find it, I asked a police officer. She told me how to get to the MTA office. When I got there, I saw a building called "Lexington Market". Oh. The MTA office was across the street, but after all that, they've discontinued printing bus maps, so I ended up with nothing but a few schedules.
Returned to the boat and ate lunch. Roy had a lot of work to do on the boat, so I walked over to a nearby super market. As usual, I bought about ten times more than I could carry. And to add to my general joy, it started raining while I was checking out. I kept hoping Roy would come to the store with an umbrella and help me carry the groceries. While I was putting the cold stuff into the insulated bag, I heard a tapping on the window, but I figured it was some kid being a pest, so I ignored it. The tapping continued and grew louder, so finally I looked up. Imagine my joy when I saw Roy! And my joy doubled when I saw Linda and Gina and Linda's car!
We loaded the groceries into the car and returned to the marina. By then, the rain had stopped, but it was too late to go sailing, so we taught Gina and Linda how to paddle Royaks. They caught on really fast and had a lot of fun.
After showering, we ate supper on the boat and discussed our planned trip. We all agreed the Potomac was too far to go, because it would take us two days to get there and two to get back, which wouldn't leave us any time for sightseeing. After some discussion, we decided to go to St. Michaels instead. It's a very pretty place and will only take one day to get there, so we'll have two days to play and sightsee before returning.

Sunday, August 1, 1993 - Baltimore

Linda and Gina arrived around ten o'clock. It was so good to see them again. Gina is seven and a half and will be in third grade this fall. She's so sweet and well-behaved. Linda has to walk with a cane and is in a great deal of pain, but she was able to climb on to the boat, and she never complains.
We motored slowly around the inner harbor and saw it from another perspective. Then we went out by Fort McHenry and under the Francis Scott Key Bridge. Dropped anchor and ate lunch. A little breeze came up, so we sailed around for a couple of hours and then returned to the marina.
Linda is going to take off work Thursday and Friday. We'll spend four days sailing down to the Potomac and visiting Washington, D.C., and Mount Vernon. Will return Sunday.
Linda drove us over to her apartment in Ellicott City. It's a very nice place in a brand new development. We sat on the back porch and talked for a while. Then we went to a Sizzler for supper. It was the best Sizzler we've ever been to. They even have a special food bar just for children.
After supper, Linda drove us back to the marina. It's about a half hour drive, so it was pretty late by the time she and Gina got home.

Saturday, July 31, 1993 - Baltimore

Finally got to Baltimore! We were able to sail most of the way. What a delightfully cool day! Roy actually put on long pants and a windbreaker.
This is a very busy harbor. We had our hands full dodging freighters and sailboats. The little sailboats were the worst; they would cut perpendicularly across the channel. We were under power by that time, so we had to get out of their way.
There was a sailboat regatta going on, but it was out of the way.
We went right by Fort McHenry and a red, white, and blue buoy that marked the location of the boat Francis Scott Key was on when he wrote the "Star Spangled Banner".
We heard "Jofian" being hailed on the VHF by a boat named "Seagull", but when we responded, there was no answer. Now we're baffled; we have no recollection of a boat by that name and have no idea who might have been calling us or why.
We didn't think we'd be able to find a berth in the Inner Harbor, but we headed in that direction anyway to check it out. To our surprise, we found a marina with plenty of room and low rates. It's called Lighthouse Point Marina, because there's a tall blue and white lighthouse next to it. We're only paying $75 a week, including electricity, which is less than we'd pay for two days at the Inner Harbor Marina or the Harbor View Marina. It's a nice place, too, with floating docks, plenty of big cleats, and good showers. However, the dockside electrical outlets are all 50 amps. Our plug is 30 amps, so Roy had to go get an adapter. There's an inexpensive water taxi, called the Harbor Shuttle, that comes by here and takes you anywhere in the harbor you want to go, so Roy rode it.

Friday, July 30, 1993 - Petuxent River to Annapolis, Whitehall Bay

What a delightful day! Especially after yesterday. No groundings, no wrapped lines, no sweat running down our noses. The temperature must have been at least ten degrees lower than yesterday, plus there was a nice breeze blowing. We were able to sail all the way from the Patuxent River to Annapolis. Had all four sails up. Moved along at 5 to 6 knots. Best sail we've had in a long time.
Solaris followed close behind us. Their jib sheet got away from them, and the sail was flopping around. The roller-furling wouldn't work, but they finally managed to furl it by hand.
When we got close to Annapolis, we decided not to go into the main harbor but to anchor in nearby Whitehall Bay. I called the Solaris on the VHF and told them our plans, so they wouldn't follow us and overshoot Annapolis. They want to visit Dale's mother in Annapolis.
Whitehall Bay turned out to be an ideal place to anchor. Quiet and peaceful with lots of trees on the shore and multi-million dollar homes. After we anchored, a dozen other boats came in and anchored, but there was plenty of room.
Unfortunately, we were invaded by flies. We'd swat one and a dozen more would take its place. Roy took down the plastic and canvas wall around the doghouse and put up the screen. First time we've ever used it. We went to all those Central American countries without being bothered by insects; then we come to the United States and get chewed up. Once the screen was in place, we were able to zap nearly all the flies on the boat without acquiring more. What a relief!

Thursday, July 29, 1993 - Tangier Island to Petuxent River

About nine o'clock this morning, we prepared to leave. Roy started the engine, and I began cranking up the anchor. I asked Roy if we should bring in the blue trip line first, but he said to just go ahead and raise the anchor; the trip line would come up with it. So I cranked away. In due course, the anchor came out of the water. Almost simultaneously the engine died. The blue trip line had wrapped itself around the propeller. Roy had been watching the white float carry the line towards the stern, but he had decided the line wouldn't get caught in the propeller. He had no sooner reached that conclusion than the line wrapped itself around the prop.
Since the water was teeming with jellyfish, we hoped to be able to unwind the line without going in the water. I could see the white float next to the hull, so I got the pole and hooked the end of the float. I pulled as hard as I could but couldn't budge it. Roy restarted the engine. The idea was he'd shift into reverse while I pulled on the float, and the line would come unwound. But the instant he shifted into reverse, the float jerked so violently I nearly went into the water. I thought the pole would be pulled right out of my hands, but Roy immediately shifted into neutral and the hook released the float. So much for that great idea.
Roy went into the water with his knife to cut the line, but luckily he was able to pull the line off the prop without cutting it. And he didn't get stung by a jellyfish.
At last we were on our way due north. It was a very calm, hot day, so we had to motor. No breeze at all. We had planned on going to Herring Bay, but as the day went on, we realized it would be dark long before we got there, so we decided to anchor in the Patuxent River instead.
Dale and Herb had told us they were going to go to Smith Creek, but it was such a nice day they decided to continue on to the Patuxent River, where they ended up anchored next to us.
The day was miserably hot. Worst of all were the flies. They were all over the boat, and their bites were painful. Later, the bites itched like crazy. We went through Central America without a bug problem, and now we get zapped back here in the United States.
Sometime during the afternoon, we saw an old ship in the distance and decided to go over and investigate. It had gone aground long, long ago, and the navy had been using it for target practice, so it was full of shell holes as well as rusty. There were two other small boats next to it. Someone was diving off one of the boats, and the other was full of kids fishing.
Around two o'clock, I was typing away at my new computer when I heard the marine operator calling the Jofian on the VHF. I rushed to the transmitter as fast as I could, but I had to crawl under the computer cord, so that slowed me down a little. Nevertheless, I don't think it took me more than half a minute to get over there. To my dismay, the operator was already gone. I kept calling her, but got no response. Finally, Roy told me he thought she had said to answer on channel 26, so I tried calling her there, but she didn't answer. I tried 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 84, and 85, as well as 16, but couldn't rouse any marine operator, which seems strange. I hoped she'd call us again, but she didn't, so I decided to try calling the marine operator from a public phone as soon as we got to land.
We anchored in the Patuxent River shortly after seven and immediately hopped in our Royaks and paddled to a marina. Put in at a ramp and carried our Royaks up to the grass. Asked a woman where we could find a grocery store and a public phone. She said there was a phone across the street at the laundromat, but it was a long walk to a 7-11. We wanted to get a bottle of milk, so we set off down the road looking for the 7-11. Asked several other people along the way. The last one said we'd see it as soon as we went around the curve up ahead. It was half a mile to the curve, and no sign of a 7-11 when we rounded it, but after another quarter mile or so, we finally found it. Bought the milk and then went to a Roy Rogers fast food restaurant for supper. The chicken was delicious.
I went to a public phone to call the marine operator. The first one I talked with was in Baltimore. He said there was no record of a call for the Jofian. Then I tried to phone the one in Norfolk. You'd think the regular operator could connect you with the marine operator, but no; she said I'd have to get the number from Directory Assistance and call her myself. The Directory Assistance operator was unreal. She didn't have the vaguest idea what a marine operator was. She was looking under government offices. When she told me that, I informed her that the marine operator worked for the same telephone company she did. Then she finally found the number.
The Norfolk marine operator was very nice, but she didn't know anything about a call to the Jofian. She said they didn't keep records of their calls. I told her exactly what had happened and asked why the operator hadn't tried calling us again. She said they didn't do that; they called once and then went to another channel to wait for a response. She made the surprising statement that once they went to another channel, they couldn't return to channel 16! I asked her why not, and she said, "I don't know." On the West Coast, the marine operators call over and over again until the get you, but I guess every phone company is different. Anyway, now I'm going bananas trying to figure out who called us.
When we got back to the Royaks, the tide had come in. We thought we had left them plenty high on the grass, but the water was lapping at their sterns!
It couldn't have been a lovelier night to go paddling. The moon was bright, the water totally calm, and the temperature ideal. We stopped by the Solaris for a brief conversation with Herb and Dale, and then returned to the Jofian.

Wednesday, July 28, 1993 - Cape Charles to Tangier Island

(Picture of Tangier Island taken by grandmaR (Rosalie B.) from her posting on VirtualTourist.com)
Peaceful, lazy, uneventful day. Hot and calm. Motored almost due north to Tangier Island. Anchored off the island in the early evening.
One interesting coincidence occurred. While we were eating breakfast, we saw a sailboat headed south. Her name was Solaris, which sounded familiar. We were sure we'd seen her before, but couldn't remember where. An hour or two later, when we were headed north, we passed the Solaris, also headed north. They called us on the VHF. Turned out they were the couple, Dale and Herb, who had talked with us for nearly an hour in Oriental. They're fairly new to sailing and were unsure of where they were. Dale was trying to calculate their position using the TD's on the Loran. When Loran first came out, two or three decades ago, you had to use special charts and go through complicated calculations to figure out where you were, but nowadays the Loran does it for you, so why bother. I advised Dale to use the latitude and longitude given by the Loran.
They were also headed for Tangier Island and asked if they could follow us. We had no objection to that but knew they wouldn't be able to keep up with us, as they make only about five knots, so I gave them the course to follow. They arrived at Tangier Island not long after we did and anchored nearby.
Roy and I paddled to the "town". This is an amazing place. There is almost no land; most of the buildings are on stilts in the water. People go around in motorboats instead of cars. We were glad we'd gotten to see it. Even saw a "U.S. Mail Boat". It carries the mail back and forth between the mainland and the island. First time either of us had ever seen a mail boat.

Tuesday, July 27, 1993

Yesterday afternoon, Roy went to a little canvas shop near the marina to see about getting the cover for the anchor winch modified. He had added a large cleat to the top of the winch several weeks ago, so the cover no longer fit. The woman came to the boat at 9 this morning to get the measurements. The cover came out wrong on the first try, but on the second try she got it right. Didn't take long to do the job, and the charge was only $22.50. Glad to get that done.
The wind was blowing 15 or 20 knots out of the east. We wanted to leave, but the wind was blowing us towards the dock. It would have been difficult for us to get away without hitting another boat or the dock, so Roy went up to the marina office to see if someone with a small boat could give us a little pull. Apparently, many boats have this problem at this marina; they have a small powerboat for just this purpose. He came right out and pulled us away from the dock. Then we were on our way.
The channel in and out of the marina is very narrow. There is a red marker at the entrance, but all the other markers are green. I had read that one should stay at least 100 feet away from the markers, so that's what I did when I brought the boat in yesterday and had no problem. Going out this morning, Roy was at the wheel. I kept telling him to stay 100 feet to the left of the markers, and he said he was, but when we went by #3, even as poor a judge of distance as I am, I knew we weren't any 100 feet away--more like 20. Seconds later, there was the too familiar thump. We were aground between markers 3 and 1. Another 100 yards and we'd have been home free in deep water.
I radioed the Coast Guard and found out the tide had just turned and was coming in, so I figured we'd float free in a couple of hours, but Roy said the wind would just blow us farther up on the shoal, so he prepared to kedge. He dropped the kedging anchor, with 100 feet of line on it, over the port side of the boat and got his Royak ready. He was going to carry the anchor as far as he could and drop it. Then he'd come back to the boat and use the windlass to pull us off the shoal. However, while he was getting ready, the powerful tidal current pushed us off the shoal. Roy immediately grabbed the wheel, throttled up, and headed towards the channel entrance, totally forgetting he'd dropped an anchor. Bingo bango, the 100 feet of line played out and wrapped itself around the prop. Roy stopped immediately, turned off the engine, put on his face mask, and went into the water to assess the situation. He came back to report that the line was wrapped so tightly it couldn't be pulled off; he'd have to cut it.
Picture our situation: the wind was still blowing about 20 knots; we couldn't start the engine until the line was off the prop; there was nothing but the kedging anchor keeping us from blowing on to the rocks about half a mile away, and Roy was getting ready to cut the line to the kedging anchor. I recommended that we drop the bow anchor prior to cutting the line. Roy said, "I was thinking of that, too," so we dropped the bow anchor.
Roy tied the yellow floating line to the anchor line so he'd be able to find the anchor. Then he cut the line near the prop, put on his face mask again, and dived with a sharp knife to cut the line off the prop. He was able to get almost all of it off. The little that was left wouldn't hurt.
Next he turned his attention to retrieving the kedging anchor. He pulled up the floating line until he could grab the anchor line. He couldn't pull up the anchor by hand, so he wrapped the line around the winch on the mizzen mast and began cranking it in. All of a sudden, CRAAAACK! The strain was too much for the mizzen mast. The mast split. This was not one of our better days.
Roy decided we should get the boat to safe water and then figure out how to retrieve the anchor, so he attached the white rubber float to the anchor rode and tossed it in the water. We started the engine, raised the bow anchor, and headed out the channel entrance into relatively deep water (20 feet). While I steered the boat around in circles, Roy got in his Royak and paddled back to the white float. He was unable to raise the anchor by hand from his Royak, so he attached his red floating cushion to the line to make it more visible (the white float was hard to see among all the whitecaps). He returned to the boat, pulled his Royak aboard, and we took the boat back to the red cushion and dropped anchor. Roy wrapped the line that was attached to the kedging anchor around the port windlass and cranked it in. Soon the anchor was back on the boat and we were heading out the channel entrance. Our little misadventure was over. The rest of the day was pleasant and uneventful.
We reached the town of Cape Charles in the early evening but anchored out instead of going to a marina. It was bouncy but otherwise peaceful.