San Diego

Tried downloading pix for this blog but Terry's computer doesn't have the necessary driver. Tried downloading it from the Nikon site, but I'm apparently too stupid to get it right. In any event.....

....we flew here yesterday--biz class--and ate and drank too much and felt disgusted with selves. Was a nice flight, though. Right over Wichita, Kansas (flat with many farms laid out in big squares) and then over the Grand Canyon and the Salton Sea. Spent day with Eli and Bailey, Terry saw the boat, was impressed, and now we're at the Marriott Hotel down by the Rio San Diego (San Diego has a river? Yes, with real desert water.). Tomorrow while Terry works, I'll help Eli and Bailey take on fuel (2000 ga.) and change engine oil (50 gallon drums).

Meanwhile, Michael Jackson remains dead (his mother has filed for custody of his children. Why not? She did such a great job with her own kids.), the Republicans are fighting tooth and nail to keep the American people from getting universal health care, our troops pulled out of the cities in Iraq, and the Red Sox won another one. Oh, yeah--and another airliner falls into the sea, 150 dead. What's going on? Aliens? Must be something logical like that.

If and when I figure out how to download pix here, I'll add a couple. We're here until Thursday morning when we catch the train up the CA coast. Looking forward to that.

Home: Computer Problems Slow the Blog Production Rate

We didn't ask the gods for much. Just a following sea, following wind, no fog, and wide berth from the big guys--like this tug coming up behind us (it's worth looking over your shoulder now and then). You could get complacent in this busy, busy part of the ocean, off the Jersey coast, especially on a nice day after days of fog when everything seems very sweet.

But that was last week. It was a different world. We're home now. The boat is out of the water, halfway up the Delaware Bay (more than halfway home) and I've left two messages with the fix-it guy whose boys are supposed to make repairs.

Truth be known, after three weeks on the boat in the rain/fog, setting our schedule by tide tables, corkscrewing down standing waves at harbor entrances, it's great to be home for a break (see below). I'm tending the yard, worrying about the greenness of my grass, the thickness of my mulch, the health of my cats. I love waking up in the morning and not worrying about the anchor/mooring/tides/currents/fog/bilge pumps/schedule.

Still, they say the true test of a yachtie is this: After getting the hell beat out of you at sea, after having been scared to death for days, after swearing you'll sell the damned boat as soon as you get it tied up at the dock, after cursing the whole bloody idea of boats, after all that---three days later you start thinking--"well, maybe it wasn't so bad after all..." and off you go again. I'll be off to finish getting the boat home as soon as things are tightened up and the bilge is dry. With luck, we'll make it from the upper Delaware Bay down to Onancock in five days...but this is a boat.

Meanwhile, Sunday, we're off to San Diego for a conference (Terry) a visit with son Eli, and a train trip up the coast of California to see friends. Hope my laptop is fixed today.

Here's a pic of our back yard, a work in progress. Feels good hanging here for now.

Cape May and Up the Delaware Bay to Greenwich, N.J. Where We Leave the Boat for Repairs

Terry and Bill Negotiate the Cape May Canal

We may have set a record--for an Alberg 30--going up the Delaware Bay from the Cape May canal to the Cohansey River. We had the wind behind us, the tide with us, the engine helping us, and the jib out. As we left the Cape May canal and plunged along farther out into the bay, the ocean swells coming in behind us rose up bigger and bigger until we were surfing down their fronts. At one point, I saw 9.2 knots on the GPS.

The object was not a pleasant day on the water, but rather to get the boat into a safe harbor and contemplate what to do next. We were taking on 5 to 10 gallons a day through the rudder post and the prop shaft packing glands and we could not reach them to tighten them down. The weather had been abysmal for three weeks and was scheduled to continue that way.

Brother John had flown home, as scheduled, from Atlantic City, and Terry joined me for what we hoped would be a nice week or so finishing the cruise to Onancock. We were also joined by sailor who has been plying the Delaware in his own Alberg 30 for the past 20 years. Bill had offered to help us up this notorious small body of water, and we accepted.

After just five and half hours, we were at the entrance of the Cohansey River and an hour later, we turned into the wind and current and slipped up against the dock and tied off. That night, it continued to rain hard and we continued to take on water. By morning, we made the decision to haul the boat out here and get done what needs to be done. The boat fix-it guys here know Alberg 30s, have a great reputation for excellent work, it's close to home, and we have friends/family here.

So, the boat is "on the hard" waiting for much needed attention, and Terry and I are back home. I'll be driving up there checking on things and hope to get the boat back in the water and finish the trip in August or September. Meanwhile, I'll keep up my ususal blog here, every few days.

Free at Last: Atlantic City to Cape May, New Friends

Here we go, out the channel and away from a city where rich are rich, poor are poor, and both meet in the middle in the effort to alter the rules of probabilty (do we understand that life is stacked against us?)

After four days of fog, we woke up that morning with the misery gone, the wind (a breeze, really) from the north, and a promise of sun and fair currents. And so it was to be.

Here's brother John at the helm on a fair day at sea between Atlantic City and Cape May.

This is the view from Seawind at the moment: Utsch's marina, Cape May, N.J. A great marina with class-A showers and ship's store. They give you a bag containing a bottle of their own wine and some other treats when you sign in. Never heard of such a thing.

Our old friend from our Guam days lives here. Jay came out to greet us as we turned into the channel. He's a big-ship captain and also runs his own fishing boat. It was great seeing him.

My eyes want to slam shut. I'm beat--pooped, dead on my feet, exhausted--on and on could I go? Certainly. Tomorrow says we'll motor up the Delawar Bay. 'Til then.

Thank You, The Donald (Trump) for Your (Expensive) Hospitality

Here our beautiful boat sits, with any luck at all, for the last night in the glow of Donald Trump's magnificence.

After four days at $90/day, with the addition of fog (Trump apparently can't control the weather--was he charging us for the fog?) the weather guessers are telling us we'll have ten knots from the north tomorrow, with moderately sunny skies. Good enough and good for us.

Today, my bro and it worked on the boat, and then took the jitney into the boardwalk. Such a place--a freak show, a sideshow, an all-American dream. We found what we wanted in, of all places, an Irish Pub, which brags wonderful portions of solid food and dark, welcoming, non-threatening decor with (unread?) books on the wall behind the bartender instead of mirrors. We ate, drank, and then walked down the boardwalk to the Trump Taj Mahal and, rather than gambling, took a nap in one of the spacious, dark lounge areas. Wonderful.

Then back here, to Trump's Marina, and the thrill of a rock n' roll band that is blasting at 140 db. Good luck sleeping tonight. But, we're up with the seagulls and slipping our dock lines, off for Cape May.

Hanging Out in Atlantic City: Fog, Roulette Wheels, and Shooting Craps

Steaks on the grill, fog in the sky, money down the drain. Such is the price of being fogged in in Atlantic City. Here we are, three days after arriving, still at the Farley Marina in the Trump Marina Casino.

Actually, we haven't bet a farthing on the dastardly machines, but we did walk around for several hours today watching the gambling set get happily fleeced. It looks like this: old retirees, bent over their one-armed bandits, smoking cigarettes and pushing the betting button (you used to have to yank down on a crank but now even sin is automated). In other sections of the casino, are the serious gamblers, huddled around black jack tables, just like in the movies. Serious business.

We're watching the weather and hoping for a Saturday getaway south to Cape May. The forecast calls for mostly sunny in the 80's with north winds, perfect for the run south. I have contacted a friend, a ship captain who used to the master of the Petersburg, an 800-ft. tanker on Guam. He lives in Cape May and he'll help us get the tools to sort the leaks out. Somehow we have to tighten the packing glands on the rudder post and the prop shaft--that's where the water is coming in.

Tomorrow, though, we expect to still be here. We're going to get an early start and go over to the boardwalk and spend the day off the boat wandering around gaping like boys fresh off the farm at this great side show that is Atlantic City.

We Take Refuge in Barnegat Bay; A Dangerous Run Through the Fog; A Day Off in Atlantic City

The East Coast Cruising Guide warned us that going into Barnegat Bay would be treacherous but just inside the entrance there was a small anchorage with good holding in fair weather. We had been aiming for Atlantic City, but after a day of bashing into increasing headwinds, we had had enough--after watching another sailboat head into the inlet, we decided to risk it. Good for us. We found the anchorage, sank the hook into slimy, black mud in 10 feet of water and stayed for the night. The next morning broke fair and we were getting ready to go when the fog rolled in.

After an hour or so, it seemed to be lifting, so we hauled up the anchor and motored back out to sea--where we met this. Then it was pea soup fog all day--7 hours of it. Hairy stuff when your sailing blind without radar. We had our fog horn, though, an ear-splitting device that we blasted at regular intervals. We also had our radar reflector hanging high in the rigging and that, in the end, is was saved us. After we made the turn at the Atlantic City channel markers and were motoring in with a big swell behind us sending us corkscrewing down there fronts, we heard the blast of a warning horn and looked up to see an 80-foot trawler with his outriggers spread wide, coming straight at us. His radar must have picked us up, because he veered off course saved these sailor's bacon.

So, we made it to Atlantic City and into the Trump Marina. A nice place. As you can see, plenty of room for us little guys. Showers, laundry, etc. all impeccably clean and its attached to the marina casino. But while we might gamble our lives we'd never gamble with our money, not much, anyway--heaven forbid. We do plan on taking the free shuttle to the Trump Palace and dropping in a few dollars to support The Donald Fund.

My navigator just informed that it's just 33 miles to Cape May and the weather forecast for tomorrow calls for sunny skies and winds from the North. How nice will it be to sail with fair winds and following seas? When we get to Cape May, we'll be joined by Bill Brenneman, a man who has sailed the Delaware for 30 years in an Alberg 30 like ours. He'll help us get half-way up Delaware Bay and then we'll be on our own for the last run to the entrance to the Chesapeake-Delaware Canal and into the Chesapeake Bay.