Ruf Seas: Season Two - Early Voyages

LAUNCH

23 May 2015

HW 1257

LW 1754

Sunset 2003

I promised myself that I would not launch the boat this year until the university was finished with the Spring term; that's dedication to work!

Brownell came at the anointed times of 2:30pm to pick up 'Piao' and transport her to the launch ramp at Old Town Landing in Marion. It took only a few minutes to step the mast, and by 2:50 the Admiral and I were motoring south, down the fairway of Sippican harbor towards Buzzards Bay under gorgeous blue skies. We didn't bother to tie up and rig the sails: we just wanted to get the boat over to the mooring on the Weweantic River as soon as possible.

The Admiral, all smiles, as we head out towards the bay.....

By the time we reached Silvershell Beach, some odd-looking clouds were forming over the bay.

It only got worse from there. As we cleared the mouth of the harbor, the skies had become thickly overcast, the winds started to howl, and the waves were building to rather alarming heights -- the Admiral estimated they were at least six feet, and she is not prone to exaggeration. I was relieved that we had not rigged the sails -- just handling the motor was enough to occupy all my attention and effort. As we neared Bird Island, the seas were crashing over the bow and into our faces with some force as 'Piao' rode up, then down, then up, then down, then up, then down..... "Hold on! Here comes another!" I kept yelling to her, seated just a few feet from me. She wouldn't look forward. These waves hurt when they hit you full in the face. I decided then and there that I should look into getting a dodger.

The biggest breath-holding moment came after we cleared Bird Island and Bird Island Reef and I decided it was time to turn 135-degrees to a NE heading. This had to be timed carefully, and the turn executed sharply, before the next wall of water hit us broadside. I have no pictures from that part of the voyage. I was too preoccupied to take out a camera, and it would have been destroyed by the water we were taking in our faces. It was a very wet and very cold journey. We were soaked to the skin before we rounded Bird Island. It was by far one of the most difficult and challenging voyages I have had yet. The Admiral was silent the whole way. "I had confidence in your boat handling skills," she told me later (which a friend interpreted to mean just the opposite).

After that inauspicious start, the season shaped up to be rather pleasant so far, although my sails have been relatively short in duration. On one trip, we found a line floating on the surface of the water near the mouth of the Wareham River. We worried that it could become a navigation hazard, with the risk of fouling someone's propellor, so we stopped to fish it out of the water. "I think its attached to something!" said the Admiral, as she pulled and pulled and pulled until she hauled a 14-pound Danforth anchor to the surface. Now, I had been thinking of getting a second anchor for 'Piao,' but I had in mind plow-style rather than another Danforth. The next week my daughter and recent NYU alumna, Kalliopi, came to visit for a few days and we went out twice, including one trip up to the Wareham Narrows.

Kalliopi at the helm in the Wareham Narrows

Horseshoe crab at Long Beach

This is what can happen when you let the Admiral drive -- that's our dinghy painter

Anchored off Long Beach

FOG BOUND

12 June 2015

LW 1038 -0.1'

HW 1723 5.1'

Sunset 2017

7.2nm

2hr 15min

[49.7nm total 2015]

My eighth voyage of Season Two was another eye-opener. I set out at 5:30pm for a quiet evening solo sail. By 6:15 I was out in the bay, just off Dry Ledge, sailing due south at 3.8 knots under full sail. Brown clouds began to fill rapidly out of the south. By 6:20, it started to hail: not a good thing when you are on a boat. Fortunately, it passed quickly, but by 7:00pm as I was off Piney Point, I could see a fog bank coming in from the southwest. Feeling it prudent to turn for home, I was surprised by just how quickly the fog obscured everything. Within ten minutes I could no longer see any landmarks, although by then I was only a hundred meters or so off-shore.

Outward Bound -- Nice Day!

Ninety minutes later: Whoa, look at that fog roll in...

Ten minutes later: WTF?!?

Never been happier to be back...

4th of July Weekend

3 July 2015

Voyage #13

HW 0938 4.6'

LW 1516 -0.4'

Sunset 2021

Sunny

Wind: N 8-10, gusting 15

Waves: S 2 feet

15.5 nm

5hr 17min

I kicked off the Fourth of July weekend by taking a solo sail to try out my newly install Davis Marine auto-tiller. The winds started very light -- only 2.1 knots. But being out of the north, they were favorable for a run down to Cleveland Ledge Light. Departing at noon, I raised the lighthouse at 2:00pm, circled around, hove to and lit up my 18-inch churchwarden "Gandalf" pipe for a relaxing smoke at sea. By 4:00pm, the winds had shifted predictably and came out of the south, so I ran wing-and-wing back to the Weweantic at about 5.4 knots.

Cruise to Cleveland Ledge Light

Cleveland Ledge Light

5 July 2015

Voyage #14

HW 1117 4.7'

LW 1649 -0.2'

Sunset 2020

Sunny

Wind: SW 17-18, gusting 25

Waves: SW 3-4 feet

15.6 nm

6hr 30min

The Admiral and I spent July 4th ashore, but took a cruise over to Red Brook Harbor the following day. The Fourth of July Weekend, I learned, can be a very hazardous one for boaters. There are simply far too many drunks out there, many of them in overloaded boats running at high speeds. Power-boaters can be difficult to begin with; many don't know -- let alone observe -- any rules or regulations about boat operation. Add copious amounts of alcohol to the mix and the results can be very troubling. Marine radio traffic on Channel 16 (Emergency) was almost continuous. At least two power-boats ran aground, resulting in injuries -- we saw one fetched up high and dry on the rocks at Abels Ledge at the western approach to the Cape Cod Canal.

We left at 12:30 with a good breeze in our faces. After tacking out to Abels Ledge, I opted to furl in the jib because the Admiral was becoming uncomfortable with the heel of the boat. Within two hours we were anchored in Red Brook Harbor, inside Bassett Island. There we sat for a couple of hours, napping, reading, and relaxing as best one can when surrounded by power-boats all blaring competing music. Why, people, why?

We pulled the hook up around 4:30pm, and headed back across Buzzards Bay. Conditions were a little rough. Winds had strengthened to 20 knots, with gusts of 25! The waves were quite large -- the Admiral (not prone to exaggeration) says some were six or seven feet. With such a strong following sea, the propellor was lifting clear out of the water on the swells. We motored a good part of the way back, as the Admiral was feeling uncomfortable in such conditions. "Its not fun when it is like this," she murmured. "Yeeeeee-ha!" I was thinking, but held my tongue. We returned to Dexter's Cover at 6:30pm, and for the first time I sailed in to pick up the mooring. Very proud of myself.