Season 3 Wrap

2016

• 23 Weeks
• 25 Voyages
• 328 Nautical Miles
• 169 Hours

Dawn beckons over Buzzards Bay at Wings Cove....

My third season with 'Piao' came to a close at the end of October.  Once again, it was a point of pride to be first-in and last-out down at the Dexter's Cove mooring field.  This year's season lasted 23 weeks -- almost half the year.  Between launch (17 May) and haul out (29 October), I made 25 voyages with 'Piao,' two-thirds of them single-handed.

Last sail of the season, in late October light airs, with Great Hill in the distance....

I think I've got the basics down now.  Time to up my game.  Next year's plan calls for more focus on optimizing sail trim, anchoring alone, sailing on/off a mooring, sailing on/off a dock, and practicing MOB drills.  The kids get this worried look on their faces everytime they come aboard and see me clip into the tether I use religiously.  "What about us?" they ask.  "If you fall overboard, I will come back and get you.  But what are you gonna do if I fall overboard?" Mic drop.

One of the great joys of boating is that the kids are not preoccupied with their electronic devices.  Its nice to see them smile and to interact with them....

They are getting older, and I figure its time for them to rehearse what we all should do in the event of emergencies.  Frankly, I don't think their mother knows what to do, and that worries me a bit.  "If you fall overboard, you are a good swimmer," she tells me.  Leaving aside the fact that many MOB incidents also involve an injury, I simply reply "Yeah, but what about you and the boat?"  "That's what the radio is for," she retorts.  I smile, but inwardly I am thinking, 'But can you trim or douse the sails? Start the outboard? Drop the anchor?'  Everyone should know more than simply where the cooler is stowed.

This is the boat equipment with which the Admiral is most familiar....

"Safety Sam," she chides me.  But you can take the Boy out of the Scout, but not the Scout out of the Boy (Thanks, Dad).  One of my biggest regrets is that I never taught my own kids about camping, basic wilderness survival, or anything more than rudimentary first aid.  So, for Christmas this year, I am registering them for a CPR/FirstAid course.  I'm sure they will be thrilled.  For my part, I am eager to get training for Wilderness First Responder (WFR) certification.  This is a bit pricier, but I think knowing how to respond to emergencies in remote locations is an important skill set to develop.  SEA Education Association hosts WFR/USCG Medical Care Provider training programs by Wilderness Medical Associates International several times a year, specially tailored for isolated marine environments.  The cost is only about $850.

Midshipman Dylan drives 'Piao' as we motor over to Long Beach for a day of swimming and beach combing.  The Admiral occupies her honored position on the weather rail, while Myra sits to leeward wearing my Vieques hat....

That's a hefty price tag for me.  But most everything in the B-O-A-T world seems expensive.  I would like to pursue further certifications with the American Sailing Association, but I feel priced out of that market, too.  The local affiliate in Fairhaven, "SailBuzzardsBay," with whom I took ASA 101 Basic Keelboat Sail ($499), also offer ASA 103 Coastal Cruising: $499 ($290 fee to "test out" without instruction); ASA 104 Bareboat Cruising (required if you ever want to charter a sailboat for use while on vacation): $949; ASA 105 Coastal Navigation $499; ASA 106 Advanced Coastal Cruising $1499, plus several others.  For now, I am buying textbooks and materials online and teaching myself the basic skills.  One day, when I finally hit that PowerBall jackpot, I will take all those certification courses and buy a bigger boat.  In the meantime, its just me and my little 'Piao.'  Given the lovely sailing conditions for which Buzzards Bay is famous, I have become a bit more practiced at developing my basic keelboat sailing skill set.

Folks in these parts say the southwesterly winds are so reliable that you can set your clock by them....

Along the way, I've enjoyed learning a bit about meteorology.  The Buzz Bay Southwesterlies are actually pretty cool (no pun intended).  As the sun heats the land throughout the morning, the warmed air rises, creating a low pressure area.  Since nature abhors a vacuum, the cooler heavier air (under higher pressure) over the water rushes on shore.  On Buzzards Bay, this typically happens in the early afternoon, around 2:00pm, every day, as ocean air is drawn northward from the southwest.  When you add to the mix the force of the tidal currents of the Bay filling and emptying, this all contributes to the delightful chop for which Buzzards Bay is so well known.

The process reverses at night, as the land cools, and the breeze blows off-shore....

Since acquiring the boat in 2014, I now have taken her out a total of 96 times.  This year logged just under 330 nautical miles (273nm solo sailing), bringing my three-year total on 'Piao' to over 1000 nautical miles (531 solo).  In addition, I have logged another 660nm sailing on other vessels, some small (although bigger than 'Piao'), some a bit larger.  This season I was more meticulous about recording engine hours, putting about 32 hours on the outboard motor (for a total of just over 100 hours since I bought it three years ago).  Over the last three years, I accumulated several hundred documented "Days at Sea," about ten percent of them solo-sailing.  Unfortunately, I cannot count time spent in the kayak, whaleboat, or car ferry to Long Island.  Nevertheless, I have over 100 days aboard 'Piao,' while the remainder are made up of my time on other vessels, including both sloops owned by friends, as well as the SEA brigantine 'Corwith Cramer,' and the square-rigged tall ship 'Kalmar Nyckel.'  All told, that is more than enough sea time to qualify for a USCG OUPV (Operator of Uninspected Passenger Vessel) "Captain's License."  So I will be studying hard during the off-season to be ready for my exam in the spring.

Only $795, but I got it for only $595.  Please don't tell my wife what this cost.  All she needs to know is that I got it on sale.  And, just as with ASA, this is only the first in a series of six licenses/certifications offered by Mariners Learning System....

In retrospect, 2016 was also a season with a lots of "Firsts."  I did my first overnight (to lovely little Quisset harbor), and finally made my first trip to Cuttyhunk -- both of which were solo trips described in earlier posts.  I haven't yet spent the night alone at anchor, however; I'm still a little nervous about sleeping through an anchor drag, and about weighing anchor alone.  We also endured our first grounding when we hit that uncharted rock in the shallows on the eastern side of Great Hill (see my earlier post, "Rock Strike!").

Damage to the keel from the rock strike.  That's going to require some TLC (and a little bit of sweat, cash, and tears) to patch up before next season.  Just more learning to enhance the skill set, but tuition is so expensive....

I also had my first tow.  Returning to the mooring on what turned out to be my last sail of the season, I noticed that the water stream from the outboard engine tell was unusually weak.  Fortunately, I didn't have far to go under motor power -- just a couple hundred yards from the mouth of the Weweantic to the mooring.  I have yet to sail off or to the mooring.  There are more than a few large rocks in the little cove, some visible at low tide, others lurking just below the surface, and it has become rather crowded with the addition of several new moorings this year.  If it were a mooring in a more open location, such as Wings Cove, I'd be practicing all the time.  But at Dexter's Cove, I feel stuck between a rock and a hull place.

These rocks help to shelter the mooring field in Dexter's Cove, but can be a bit tricky to maneuver around....

Fortunately, I was able to limp back to the mooring ball before the engine overheated.  Or at least I think I did before it overheated -- the motor is now at a shop being serviced and I'll know more in a couple of weeks, or months.  This was all trouble enough by itself.  But I had a bigger problem in that I was scheduled for haul-out the following day.  Knowing I'd need that engine to maneuver in the harbor and onto the Brownell trailer, and preferring to avoid the possibility of an engine failure amid the million-dollar yachts in Marion's Sippican harbor, I decided to call for a tow.  First, however, I drove over to confer with the new Harbormaster about my engine problems.  He was very understanding, and gave me permission to tie up overnight on the 30-minute courtesy dock.  "Its late in the season," he reasoned.  "No one's gonna use it between late afternoon and 7:00am tomorrow.  Its all yours."

A forest of masts crowds Marion's Sippican Harbor.
I always get a bit nervous when maneuvering around the "money boats."

Then I put in a call to TowBoatUS, with whom I have an unlimited towing membership.  They are sort of like AAA, but for boats.  Much to my chagrin, I discovered that "unlimited towing" isn't really unlimited: it only covers towing a disabled vessel at sea.  In order to get a free tow from dock-to-dock (a different category of tow), you need the upgraded "Gold Membership."  Since my TowBoatUS card reads "West Marine GOLD Rewards," and I mistakenly assumed that was a "Gold Membership."  Ho ho!  Not so!

Fortunately, the guy who came to my mooring for the tow was sympathetic, and wrote up the bill to state that my vessel had become disabled while underway.  That saved me about $600, he said.  "I just own the franchise," he explained.  "TowBoatUS pays me the same for responding to the call, whatever your card says."  What a decent bloke.  "You really should think about upgrading to the Gold Membership when you renew in January," he advised.  He set his fenders, threw me a bridled tow line to tie on my bow cleats, and slowly pulled me the 10nm to the town dock in Marion.  It was a cold, wet, gnarly day, with gusts of almost 30 knots; in fact, he equivocated for a while whether it was prudent to tow me in such conditions.  "If you were out there and broke down, I'd definitely come and get you.  But you are safe on your mooring."  When I explained the urgency of my haul out appointment early the next morning, he shrugged.  "Up to you.  But you ain't gonna be very comfortable once we get out in the open bay beyond Bird Island."  He was right.  Keeping his speed to only three knots, I was cold, wet, and pretty miserable by the time we reached the dock.  I called the Admiral to come pick me up.  "Bring bourbon," I pleaded.  "I need it for medicinal purposes."

An ignominious end to the season.
Fortunately, it was so late in the season that few if any were around to observe my humiliation of having to be towed to Sippican harbor....

Since I was too fatigued to prep the boat upon arrival, I went back the next morning in the predawn darkness to take down the sails, remove the boom, and make other preparations for haul out.  Ironically, when I started the engine to maneuver over to the boat ramp, the cooling water was streaming from the tell just fine.

'Piao' by dawn's early light, tied up at the town dock, ready for Haul Out Day....

Took this photo at Sippican harbor in low-light conditions while I awaiting the Brownell haulers.  Kinda looks like a watercolor.  Wish I could say that was the effect I was trying for, but it was just pure luck....

The Brownell guys arrived punctually at 6:45 -- they are always 15 minutes early, and backed the trailer down the ramp into the water.  I drove the boat right up on to the trailer lifts, and shut off the motor.  Then one of the guys pointed out into the harbor and said something to the other.  "Where's your boat going?" the trailer driver asked me.  When I told him the address, he replied, "Oops.  Wrong boat."  Approaching the ramp was another sailboat, arriving late for their haul out appointment.  I had to restart the engine, back off the trailer, and circle around the harbor as I waited for the other boat to get hauled.  Then another sailboat came in behind me and similarly went into a holding pattern.  Things got backed up because the women on the late-comer boat had not yet removed their sails and boom, which delayed all of us even more.  At least it was a beautiful morning and I wasn't wet and miserable.

'Piao' heading home after haul out.  Lovely marine growth on the rudder -- it was a good year for marine growth....

Back at the home, I made some advances in my tarp-frame design and engineering this year.  The first two winters, I had left the mast laying atop the centerline of the boat to serve as a ridge-pole for the tarp.  Last year, I bought a bunch of PVC pipe to rig a frame, which enabled me to take the mast down for upgrades to the electrical wiring, and also gave me some extra room under the tarp in case I needed to do some work on the boat during the off-season.  This year, my friendly neighbor, Captain Kirk (yes, that is really his name), gave me some boards he had previously used to build a tarp frame for his powerboat.  He now shrink-wraps his boat and no longer needed the wood, and his wife was happy to get it out of their basement.  So I combined wood and the PVC to fashion a more robust tarp frame this year.

Note the new wooden keel blocks beneath the boat -- more on those below....

I also taped a half-dozen paint rollers atop the ridge-pole to facilitate pulling the tarp up and over without snagging or tearing.  Pulling on the tarp is one of the more challenging tasks to do single-handed, as the oversized "industrial grade" tarp is large and quite heavy.

Ingenuity.  Three Stripes, Baby....

'Piao' under wraps for the winter.  Guess we won't be using that fire pit until next spring.
I had to buy a new tarp this year.  The old tarp, now with a few tears, is repurposed as a mast covering....

Last spring, when the Brownell guys came to pick up the boat for launch, they warned me that I would need some new wooden keel blocks in the fall.  Most of the ones I had picked up second-hand a few years ago were rotten and insect-eaten.  They said they could sell them to me for $25/each, but suggested I could buy them elsewhere a lot cheaper.  So I found a small lumberyard in the neighboring town of Rochester, where an old man in overalls sold me some freshly cut blocks for only $6/each.  This was one of the first boating expenses I felt it was okay to tell my wife the truth about.  The Brownell guys were able to block the keel high enough this fall to enable me to lower the centerboard for some off-season servicing.

The centerboard needs some cleaning and servicing, as it got stuck in the recessed position a couple times this season.  And the pendant, or uphaul line, may need replacing soon....

In another "First" this year, I was finally able to remove the padlock and steel security bar that protect the outboard engine from theft (yes, that is a thing -- some people have the outboard motors stolen off their boats at night).  For the two previous years, the Master padlock had seized up due to exposure to marine conditions, obliging me to beg my neighbor, Henry, to come over with his Sawsall and cut off that steel bar.  When I asked the staff at West Marine what to do about this problem, they simply suggested I cut off the bar at the end of each season.  "That's what a lot of people do," they reassured me.  Nice business model, I thought.  This spring, when the boat went in, I applied a liberal amount of goopy marine grease to coat the lock mechanism in the hopes of preventing corrosion.  At first, once again I couldn't get the key to turn.  But with patient persistence, it finally unlocked and I was able to remove the bar without cutting it.

Wow.  Trump really *is* Making America Great Again!  That'll save me $30 at West Marine next Spring....

Note to Self: This year I also learned why it is best not to pull the dinghy on a hip tow: it can easily fill with water and even turtle-over and capsize on you.  It is a bit tricky to right a capsized dinghy from the sailboat's cockpit -- especially if the dinghy has a small grapple anchor weighing it down.

Actually, the sun had warmed that water nicely.  Poor Man's Hot Tub.
I have a bailing pump lashed beneath the thwart/seat....

Another "First" this year was to deploy my new 'snubber' when threatened by the Hurricane-that-Wasn't.  This gadget is supposed to help take up the strain on a line (or chain) and act as a shock absorber.  As the storm approached, I also added a second mooring line as additional security.  My mooring ball is attached to a 500-pound mushroom anchor.  They tell me that is sufficient for a boat the size of 'Piao,' but it still makes me anxious when many of my mooring neighbors are on more robust "helix" anchors that are screwed into the river bed.

Am I doing this right?  My regular mooring line is a bit short, but there is precious little swing room in the crowded little mooring field at Dexter's Cove.

This year I also tried out my new "Anchor Ball" -- a round black shape that signals a vessel at anchor.    I installed a second signal halyard on the spreaders, where I can raise either the anchor ball or a radar reflector.  Whenever we anchor, I always hoist my "R" signal flag.  This used to mean 'The Way is Off My Vessel,' but that meaning was retired from the signal flag lexicon.  "R" is now the only letter without a special meaning.  I simply use it to signal "R" for "Ruf."  I like to think of it as my "private signal."  The Admiral thinks this is silly.  "No one who sees that is going to care where you are."  But in fact, once my friend Capt. Kirk found us at anchor off Long Beach by identifying my signal flag from afar.  Boom.  Mic drop again.

This year I also added some large zip-ties to the spreaders as an air defense measure against birds....

We did a lot of swimming this year.  One of our favorite spots is Long Beach in Wareham.  This spit of sand is under water at high tide and only accessible by boat at low tide.  Its just a short cruise from our mooring, and the anchorage (on the northern side) is somewhat protected from the afternoon southwesterly winds.  Of course, it is in Wareham, and that means there are a lot of 'Yahoos' tooling around, blowing up and down the river at excessive speeds.

While overloaded boats are not an uncommon sight on July 4th weekend, they are a daily occurrence in Wareham.  Here we have at least twelve people (including a half dozen young kids) crowded onto a boat smaller than 'Piao.'  You can count the people wearing life jackets on zero fingers....

Another nice spot we like is Wings Cove, where my friend Ric moors his sailboat.  I've been nagging the kids to let me take them over to Bassetts Island on the Cape Cod side of Buzzards Bay.  It is a beautiful spot with a well-protected anchorage, but it takes us some time to get over there and they usually don't have the patience.  "If we had a powerboat, it would be easy," complains the Admiral, whose initials are 'RPM.'  "What did you say?" I respond.  "Sorry.  You'll have to yell.  I can't hear you over the noise of the engine!"  The way I see it, we live in a world full of noise pollution.  When I'm on the boat, or out camping in the woods, I want quiet.  I don't even want Bluetooth speakers playing music, let alone a TV in my boat's cabin.  The sea breeze is all the music I need.

Swimming while at anchor in Wings Cove.  While en route, we saw a large black object thrashing around in the water before disappearing beneath the waves.  So when we anchored, we did "Rock-Paper-Scissors" to determine who would go swimming first.  The Admiral always throws "Rock," so its easy to win when you play against her....

Before next year's launch, I have some work to do, although the list (at present) is not as long as last winter's.   I think it is time to replace the mainsail halyard, which is showing signs of wear and fraying a bit.  I'd like (finally) to install that single-line reefing system that I bought the other year (I still need to learn how to drill and tap screws into metal).  I will also have to re-replace the furling line.  Although I purchased a smaller diameter line last spring, I found that it sometimes still jammed in the furling drum.  This can be a bit of problem, since you usually want to be able to furl the foresail when you need to furl the foresail.

Too big to fail, or not small enough?  Trials and tribulations with the roller furler line....

Speaking of the roller furler, this year I also mounted a new fairlead to keep the furling line from chafing on the opening of the furling drum.  Easy-peasy....

I also need to solve a problem that, as yet, no one has been able to help me with.  The jib sheets often get fouled in a groove at the base of the winches.  I don't think the solution lies in thicker jib sheets -- these are 3/8-inch already, and anything larger will have problems fitting in the grommet on the jib clew.  My suspicion was that there is something amiss with the way in which the winches are mounted, but most people who have looked at them dismiss this hypothesis.  So now I am thinking that maybe there is a problem with the fairleads -- perhaps they are not living up to their name?  I am offering a gold doubloon to whomever can remedy this annoying and frequent problem.

How do you spell, "Aggravation?"

I spell it "F-U-C-K-I-N-G S-H-E-E-T-S A-R-E F-O-U-L-E-D A-G-A-I-N"

My list of off-season projects includes several other items.  That ding in the keel needs repairs, and the centerboard needs a good look-over.  Also at the top of the list is replacing the white stern light, which quit working near the end of the season.  Its the last remaining incandescent light on the boat, and going all LED is a good idea anyway.  I want to install a remote mic in the cockpit for the VHF unit.  The base unit is mounted just inside the cabin, and while I can hear it just fine with the volume up, changing the channel requires me to leave the tiller unattended while I duck inside the cabin.  I've got my eye on a Standard Horizon RAM3 CMP31, and if Santa doesn't bring it then I'll be making a trip down to Defender Marine in CT for their big spring sale.  I also need to re-do the drain hose for the galley sink.  A kink formed in the new hose I installed this year, causing an obstruction that prevented easy draining.  I need to lay in a new section of hose, as horizontal as possible, to allow easy draining via the through-hull fitting.  This summer, I had to use a small plunger to push the water out of the sink and through the drain hose.

Sand Sculpture, by HOH

Even more troubling, the shrouds were rather loose this year.  Tension on the turnbuckles was maxed out, but still the shrouds were a bit loose and wobbly.  Ed, my boat guy, suggested it was time for new shrouds and came to take some measurements for replacements.  It always makes me anxious when a boat guy tells you something "won't cost very much."  Cost is a very relative concept in the B-O-A-T world.  My buddy Bob offered the possibility of a more gloomy cause: perhaps the shrouds were fine, but the deck was starting to flex.  That would be bad.  In fact, I had noticed in the spring that, every time I drilled into the deck to re-bed some hardware, the extracted material was wet and spongy.  That is not a good sign.  If the core of the deck is wet, it renders the entire rig unstable and it will need to be redone.  And there is no way that "won't cost very much."  In fact, if the problem really is a wet core, then I will have a monumental decision to make: whether to spend the money to redo the deck, or simply to get another (bigger) boat -- as if it were really that "simple."

Almost, but not quite.  I cannot be an impulse shopper when it comes to buying my next boat....

In fact, this year I went and looked at an old 31-foot C+C sailboat that the Admiral saw posted for sale in the local newspaper.  While I didn't make an offer on it, I really did like the T-shaped cockpit and the roomier interior -- I really want a boat in which I can stand up in the cabin, a boat that has a real toilet, a shower (even a hand-held shower nozzle at the head sink will do), a galley, and a nav station.  The boat I looked at also would have come with fairly new set of sails, including an asymmetrical spinnaker and pole.  But much about the boat was dated, including its entire electrical system; it had a gasoline-powered Atomic 4 engine; and there were a bunch of DIY "upgrades" the owner had done that were none too impressive and aesthetically unattractive.  All the same, I did like the C+C design, and I'll keep my eyes open in that direction.  I also have come to like the Halberg-Rassy designs.  My neighbor, Dennis, bought an H-R 31 the other year, and I confess to coveting my neighbor's goods.  I asked Santa for one, but I think I'm getting a coffee mug instead.

'Freyja,' Dennis's Halberg-Rassy 31....

And I just love the looks of the Halberg-Rassy decks....

Speaking of beautiful boats, in October we drove down to Newport to say bon voyage to our friends, Bob and Linda, who departed the US on a year-long cruise to the Caribbean aboard their gorgeous Tartan 4000, "Argon."  They are real salty dogs, those two, and they have been selfless in their advice and assistance to me as I learn to sail.  I love "Argon," but at 40-feet, it is a bit too much boat for me at present level of incompetence.  It is a real blue water boat, capable of sailing offshore, whereas 'Piao,' a diminutive O'Day 23 barely half the size of "Argon," is at more of a weekender (or, as I prefer to call her, a "pocket cruiser" for the solo-sailor).  Follow the adventures of Bob and Linda at their sailing blog, "we ARGONe."

"Argon," at anchor in Newport....

The Admiral, with Captains Bob and Linda, aboard "Argon" in Newport....

Folks in Newport take their sailing seriously.  Fog is no deterrent....

There were, of course, other noteworthy water events this season, some of which I wrote about in previous posts.  I do want to give a special shout-out to my whaleboat team, the "Polar Oartex," which continued to dominate competitions this year.  In addition to winning the Snow Row in March, and completing the Blackburn Challenge in July, we also took first place in our division at the Minots Light Roundabout in September.  This is an annual race in Cohasset, where competitors row out and back to a famous lighthouse a few miles off the coast.  We did 4.6 nautical miles in 1:18:45 -- amid strong winds and choppy seas.  Even more exciting, we beat one pilot gig by five minutes, and were only 50 seconds behind the other pilot gig!  The two types of boats are in different design classes, and it is unheard of for a whaleboat to beat a gig (which is sleeker and carries one additional rower).  We did it twice this year.

Pulling to victory in the Minot Roundabout....

The dreaded 'Polar Oartex' team and their Yankee whaleboat, the 'Flying Fish,' after the Minot Race.
From Right to Left: Queequeg, Power-Up, Mrs. Queequeg (substituting for the absent Seawolf), Hurk, BucketBastard, and Shallow-and-Foul....

Finally, I would be remiss if I neglected to mention one additional bit of news.  This summer we bade farewell to M/V Dockblocker.  This was the powerboat that was moored too close to the dock at Dexter's Cove, frequently preventing others from accessing the dock.

One picture can be worth a thousand words....

Do you have any idea how hard it was to get in and out of there without a collision, especially when the winds were blowing?

Devoted followers of this blog may recall there was some controversy over this situation, and some hurt feelings (in fact, someone still isn't speaking to me).  But the principal problem has been solved: the owner sold the boat.

Making America Great Again....