Below are my feeble attempts to capture some simple stories of recent memorable sails. So far, these are writings I recording on the Daily Log. I needed a place to store them and since they didn't really fit anywhere else I created this separate page. I'd like to go back and capture some earlier sailing adventures on other boats but for now they are about short trips on the White Oak River on our 9' Fatty Knees, Sweet Pea.
Escaping the Heat
It was too hot to work on the boat . . . too hot to do much of anything outside. So, I spent some time continuing to gather information about the refit and mods and doing a few chores around the house. One way to escape the heat and still sail is to do it at night. So, last night I went out for a great sail on the Sweet Pea, our 9' Fatty Knees dinghy. The air temp was still over 80 degrees. I left about 2115 and started the beat against tide and wind. The wind was out of the southeast and pretty light at about 8 knots. When I left there was the faintest bit of blue remaining high overhead in the western sky. I could see two jet contrails stretching out from north to south and behind them in an upright position was the big dipper. Cassiopeia was opposite but lower in the north east. Moon rise was about 2200 so for the first 45 minutes it was quite dark. I tacked down river and as I closed on Jones Island we softly touched bottom. Raising the dagger board about six inches and a quick tack to port put me back in deeper water. It was so dark I couldn't see the marks till they were about 20' away but I know the water pretty well so I confidently tacked back and forth continuing to work my way down river. Once I made it to the dogleg about 2/3 of the way past Jones Island, I could pretty much lay the west end of the Highway 24 bridge in Swansboro on port tack. I sat back in my little ship with the moon rising over my shoulder and the lights of Swansboro and Cedar Point lighting the way out ahead. The Sweat Pea bravely sailed through the darkness healing about 15 degrees. At one point we sailed into some mirror flat water but the wind was still steady and instead of the burbling sound of water along the hull I began to hear a "whoosh" coming off the bow wave. It was magic . . . like we were being pulled along on an underwater rail. The current accelerates as it gets compressed through the constricted water under the bridge and soon we began to get strongly set to leeward. It took about a half-dozen tacks to find the right line between getting too far out into the current and keeping clear of the disturbed wind in the lee of the bridge. I have a long running challenge to make it to the self designated turn-around point about 25 meters off the Bicentennial Park which is right on the edge of too much current and too little wind. Once I reached it, a quick jibe sent us speeding along down wind and down current back towards home. During the run back I was able to get a better view of all my old friends: the Big Dipper and Mizar, the Little Dipper and Polaris, Draco, Cygnus and her light orange star Deneb, Vega, and Cassiopeia as well. Way down in the south I could clearly see Scorpio with the very red Antares, and to the east the teapot of Sagittarius. By the time I was heading home the light of the nearly full moon obscured some of the other constellations I always enjoy seeing, like Delphinus, and Sagitia, Aquilla and her bright star Altair. It was a beautiful night for sailing on the quiet waters of the White Oak River. I luffed up to our neighborhood dock about 2315 surprising a young couple enjoying more than just the star filled night . . . ah, the pleasurable discoveries of youth. Alas, my sail was over. After loading the Sweet Pea on the dolly I pushed her up the gentle hill to the main road and thence about 100 yards to our home. It may be too hot to work on the Far Reach but sailing is never far from my mind.
Night Sailing
Last night I went for night sail in the Sweat Pea, our 9' Fatty Knees dinghy. It was very dark on the river since the moon did not rise till well after I set sail. The breeze was warm, balmy, and steady at 10-12 knots. I took my headlamp (I never turn it on) and a D-cell flashlight--to signal boats should they get too close. It was slow going against a strong flood tide and it took an hour and 45 minutes and about 40 tacks to sail all the way to the Swansboro bridge. Early in the sail, I saw a couple of fishing skiffs racing home before full darkness arrived. Just before I reached the bridge--the turn around point--I was overtaken by a bay shrimp boat working his way out of the river with a powerful search light. Other than that I owned the White Oak. Just as I began the run back home, the stars and a low and very orange full moon were washed out by fast moving clouds. I could hear the low rumble of thunder and see flashes of light on the southern horizon as a summer storm began to move into the area. The river banks and small grass islands were mostly hidden in ink black shadows. It was very rewarding to find all the marks on so dark a night on this fairly wide but shallow river, yet never seeing them till they were close aboard. The darkness of night and the heavy humid air seemed to magnify the sound of water burbling along the hull. There is nothing like the heeling of a boat under you and the warmth of the breeze on your face to make you feel close to the earth and her awesome sky, wind, and water.
An Early Spring Sail
Though it is still cold at night it was a very nice day today. The air temperature got up to about 58 degrees though the water temp remains a very cool 43 degrees. It seemed like a good time to take our 9' Fatty Knees dinghy, Sweet Pea, out for a sail. During the summer the kids often go with me. They enjoy sailing over to an island in the White Oak River that is part of the state park system. We bought the Sweet Pea used about five years ago (part of our long range plan). She is a fine little boat. She sails and rows great. She will be the tender for the Far Reach. I have her on a Sitech Dolly in the back yard and we just roll her down to the neighborhood boat ramp and launch her into the White Oak River when we want to sail. This close to the ocean (about two miles to the inlet to the Atlantic) the White Oak is very much a tidal river.
Today, I decided to sail her down stream to the Highway 24 bridge and back. I like to sail on the last part of the flood tide when going down stream so I have it going with me on the way home, always nice if the wind dies. The tide here can rip along pretty good, though with a decent wind I can normally make good headway into the current.
Today the wind was perfect. About 10-12 knots and steady. The wind and tide were on the nose for the trip down the river. It took about 15-20 tacks and well over an hour to make it to the bridge but it was an easy and all-too-quick 20 minute sail back home. The Sun was out in all his glory. The sky was a brilliant blue. There were some wispy cirrus clouds off to the northwest. It was great to get out on the water, feel the boat come alive, smell the saltwater, and hear the water burbling along the hull.
