Harts At Sea

Antigua Classic Yacht Regatta–The Maine Event

What’s a year among friends? We were supposed to have arrived in Antigua for the 2011 Classic Yacht Regatta, but someone had the date wrong and we missed it. This year, we were determined to show up. After all, we had been invited to help host a party – the “Sail Maine Party” presented by Portland Yacht Services and several other Maine boat yards and marine companies.

Phin and Joanna Sprague, owners of Portland Yacht Services have known EW a bit longer than I have. They are also experienced cruisers and sailors, having spent their first years together sailing around the world in a 72ft 1931 Alden Staysail Schooner with a revolving crew of five to seven people. They cruised before water-makers, GPS, Sat phones, cell phones, and many of the other boat accoutrements that I take for granted. Phin is also the instigator and primary host of the “Sail Maine Party”, held on Sunday night at the Classic Yacht Regatta. The Sail Maine party was conceived to support the Regatta and as an opportunity to showcase some of Maine’s best boat yards. Also sponsoring the party were Robinhood Marine Center, Boothbay Harbor Shipyard, Hodgdon Yachts, Port Clyde Lobster, Lyman Morse, Rockport Marine, Wayfarer Marine, Brooklin Boatyard, and Hinckley Yacht Services. We had been requested to help. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but knew that we’d see some Maine folk, eat lobster, and have fun. Essentially, I got to help throw a wicked neat party without having to plan it or pay for it.

Fun started on Friday morning, when Joanna and Phin picked us up in their dinghy. Though they had arrived in Antigua via air, they currently store the dinghy to s/v Lion’s Whelp in Antigua. That’s handy. We watched some  the starts on Friday, up close and personal, and low to the water. Afterward, we began our hosting duties by helping to collect 600 sea grape leaves. Really. It seems that they make excellent serving plates for small amounts of food, they are free, and they are definitely organic. Joanna knew which bay provided both an abundance of grape leaves and excellent snorkeling. I like how she works. The bay is well protected by a reef and coral heads, but Phin and Joanna had clearly been there often. We waded ashore while EW helped Phin anchor and tie the dinghy.  After a swim and snorkel, we loaded ourselves and two huge bags of leaves into the dinghy for lunch with a view of the finish line. I provided lunch. We were a good team.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Saturday afternoon Joanna and I walked up to a nearby home which was headquarters for food prep for the party. Two professional caterers, some paid staff, and many volunteers worked for two days to provide a large variety of food for the 600 expected guests. In the meantime, Phin and EW spent two afternoons inviting everyone in English and Falmouth Harbors to the party – creating some anxiety that we wouldn’t have enough food.

On that first day, Joanna and I had to wash 600 sea grape leaves. Do you have any idea how long that takes? Hours. I also had to squeeze a crate of oranges. A whole crate of oranges only yields a bit over a gallon of juice. I must admit that I grumbled a bit because I knew that much more juice would be needed for the rum punch for 600 people. “I think buying the juice would be more cost effective,” I stated at least 10 times to various parties that day. Maybe, but it wouldn’t have resulted in true Caribbean rum punch. Turns out “my” oranges were sour ones and that bit of sour juice is needed for the authentic recipe. Now you know.

I will say, that squeezing a crate of oranges and washing grape leaves gives two women ample time to chat, laugh, and get to know each other. I’ve known Joanna for over 20 years. In Antigua we had the opportunity to become friends. That’s a special gift.

On Sunday, EW and I opted to hike up one of the hills between Falmouth and English Harbors for a bird’s eye view of the mornings starts. Oh my. It was an excellent vantage point, and we had it all to ourselves. And the goats. We had taken our hand-held VHF radio and could hear the Committee Boat broadcast the start of each class, and see the puff of smoke as the gun went off to mark the ten-minute, one-minute, and start of each race.

 

 

See the puff of smoke aft of the power yacht? That’s from the starting gun.

These are beautiful boats. More on that in the next post.

Afterward, we walked back to Falmouth, meeting up with other cruisers who had volunteered to help with the party. Alan and Kate from s/v Mendocino Queen  and Dave and Lori from s/v Persephone had also watched the starts from one of the hills. The men then went off to set up tables and tents and the women joined Joanna, other volunteers, and me at the house on the hill. Our first task was to break up huge amounts of Maine lobster. We refrained (mostly) from eating as we worked and were helped by the presence of Laura from British Columbia and her three (triplet) daughters, Victoria, Elizabeth, and Alexandra. The girls are young teens who are enjoying a year afloat with their parents and younger brother. They weren’t allowed to eat while working and had to go wash their hands again if fingers touched lips. It was a good rule and we all followed it. They were shadowed by Lexi, whose dad and grand mom were cooking for the party, and one of the girls helped Lexi with her homework.

We made hundreds of roll-up sandwiches, a huge vat of salsa, and chopped, sliced, or diced herbs, vegetables, and bread. The real cooks made polenta, Caribbean lobster stew, fillings for sandwiches, lobster salad, barbequed chicken, bean soup, and a whole barbecued 30-pound kingfish. This effort used two stoves, a large outdoor pit grill, and a propane cooker for one of the three giant pots of stew. It was organized chaos, but seemed to go quite smoothly.

Here is the grill crew. And here’s the fish grilled in the yard. It’s on a piece of plywood covered with foil because it’s as big as a coffee table.

 

 

 

 

 

One batch of lobster stew, Caribbean style and oh, so good!

 

 

We worked until after 4, then left to get ready for the party, meeting up on the lawn of the Antigua Yacht Club at 5:00.

 

Nice shirt!

 

The party was a huge success. There was enough food for all and it was fantastic. The rum punches were just tangy enough. Here, they are being served by the crew from Wayfarer Marine.

 

These two volunteers served fish for three hours. I don’t think either of them have been to Maine. Neither was a rum punch kind of woman, so I badgered various Maine boat yard reps to buy them their drinks of choice. Keep the volunteers happy! It’s what I do.

 

Dave and Lori, fellow cruisers, helped all afternoon and enjoyed the party that night, as did Kate and Alan, who are actually going to cruise in Maine this coming summer. If you see s/v Mendocino Queen in your harbor, make sure to say hello. Kate and Alan are 3/4 of the way through a round the world cruise, are excellent sailors, and incredibly nice people. There was some sort of “issue” with the tents – ably resolved by Dave and Alan. Leave it to a cruiser to find a solution.

 

 

 

  At left, dancing and Maine boats and harbors. The slide show provided by Maine Boats Homes and Harbors Magazine.

 

 

Linsey and Maurice

 

 

 

      Serving punch and a smile from Hinckley Yacht Services

 

 

 

Philip, Monica, and Stuart

 

Talking about Maine. EW’s talking about some of our favorite anchorages.

 

Maine …the way life should be … in Antigua. It doesn’t get any better than this.

New to Harts at Sea? I've written a book -- The Harts At Sea Sailing to Windward -- about our first year of cruising, from Maine to Grenada. It's available on Kindle (or Kindle for PC or Kindle for Apple) for only $2.99. 

EW is Good. He's Really Good.

WE INTERRUPT THIS POST WITH A BRIEF MESSAGE:

On February 12 and 13, my eBook - "Harts At Sea Sailing to Windward" will be available for free at Amazon. If you haven't purchased it yet, get it for free on one of those days -- and please tell your friends and fellow sailors. Once you've read it, please take the time to post a review on Amazon. Thank you. 

And now, back to our regularly scheduled post.

Location: 18.20.241 North 65.55.745 West

EW thinks about boat projects. I think his mind goes from bow to stern and stern to bow, thinking of what needs work below the waterline and above the waterline. He doesn't always make lists, but he knows what needs to be done. Most of the time, he gets to things before they get annoying. Sometimes he waits until he absolutely has to fix it - whatever "it" is. 

He's always been like this. He fixed my little Toyota before our third date, and told me that my mechanic hadn't changed all the spark plugs. When we lived on shore, he found the car mechanics, and prompted/urged/nagged me to get my vehicle serviced in a timely fashion. When we had a house, he repaired things that I didn't know were broken. I love EW.

Our Tohatsu dinghy motor has run very well so far. We had one issue with the pull cord that we finally got help with in Grenada, and EW frequently makes sure that the water pump is working well. Other than that, we gas 'er up and go. The manual suggests that in a perfect world she get serviced every year, and she did when we lived in Maine. Like all normal sailors, we'd haul the dinghy and store it, and would leave the motor with a shop for service and storage. Now that we are cruisers, she's not that well treated. She also isn't loved by motor repair people in the Leeward and Windward Islands. They haven't yet made the switch to four stroke engines. (In fact, the farther south you travel, four stroke engines are stolen less than two stroke engines. That works for me.)

There is a Tohatsu repair shop here in St. Thomas, and EW has been determined to have a professional do a thousand hour check-up on our 9.8. Of course the challenge was to get the 9.8 to the professional. Actually, getting the motor to the professional was relatively easy. The challenge was getting the motor to the truck. 

We are anchored in Charlotte Amalie Harbor and use the dinghy dock at Yacht Haven Grand. I am thankful every day for that dinghy dock. It's crowded, but it's free. Free is good. Yacht Haven Grand is an IGY owned marina and they largely cater to really big private yachts.

For example, Athena, the worlds largest private sailboat was recently anchored there. Those people don't use the dinghy dock. Those people ride golf carts from their slip to the gate. Really.
Even so, IGY provides a dinghy dock and lets all of us cheap cruisers use it. Thank you IGY.

EW arranged for Cousin Jeff to meet him and the motor at 6:30 AM. Jeff actually goes to work that early and his shop is right across the street from Gary's Outboards. (How perfect is that?) So it was up to EW and me to get the 88-pound motor up to the parking lot. EW and Jeff would drop it off, Gary promised to get it serviced that day, and EW would go to work with Jeff. I, of course, would row back out to La Luna, getting my exercise for the day. (SIDE NOTE: I am the only person here who rows an inflatable dinghy for fun. We don't have a kayak, so I row. Get over it, people.)

So, EW spent a lot of time working on how to get the motor off of the dinghy - without dropping it in the water. He decided that if we went in really early in the morning (like we had a choice) we would be able to tie up next to one particular piling. He brought a strong rope and a block and tackle. He tied a really, really tight clove hitch --n amazing tight clove hitch --around the slick metal post on the dock, tied the block and tackle to that and used this system to lift the motor from dinghy to dock. Worked like a charm. Unfortunately I had forgotten the camera. 

Gary did, indeed, service the Tohatsu before the end of the day. EW helped Jeff with some errands, and I worked on board the boat. Late in the afternoon, EW emailed me from the iPhone to let me know they were approaching the marina, and I rowed in from La Luna - again eliciting a number of comments. (The new West Marine dinghy actually rows very well -- particularly when there isn't an 88-pound motor on the back.) This time, the dinghy dock was three deep at our morning access point, so EW rigged the block and tackle on the railing of the ramp. We needed one person to help protect the motor blades while EW hauled the motor up and swung her over the dinghy and a father and son from Australia jumped into the action at just the right moment. Ta-da! 

EW had thought about it, planned for it, and brought a tote bag of tackle. Everything worked like a charm. 

I love EW.

 

Raising the Waterline–A Lesson Learned

As we sailed south from Maine EW would look at the growth on our waterline with a critical eye and a dark exclamation, and more than once he dropped over the side with brush and snorkel to clean the grass off of La Luna’s hull. '”We need to raise the waterline,” was a phrase heard for months. What he really meant was “You need to raise the waterline.”

Oh.

I had learned the proper technique of painting the boot stripe, white reveal and bottom paint during our last haul out in Maine. I wouldn’t say I’m adept at it, but I know what should be done – and even wrote about it. Just after we hauled out in Rodney Bay, we had dinner aboard S/V Sanctuary and EW said he had lost sleep the previous night trying to figure out how to raise the waterline the way he wanted to. “No problem,” I said. I think I can figure it out.

Right.

EW wanted to raise the waterline two and a half inches for only the stern and half way forward. He wanted to keep the old waterline at the bow. Still, I thought, “How hard could this be?" and the next morning I dove in with tape, write-on/wipe-off markers and a measuring tape -- and a bucket. I had neglected to get paper and pen off the boat and we had a broken bucket under the keel, so I used that for the math. Let’s see. If I have 20 feet to angle from 2.5 inches to 0, that’s 1.25 inches at 10 feet and .75 inches at 5 feet and 2 inches at 15 feet.

Makes sense, but drawing or taping a straight line on a boat is, shall we say challenging. Ever game, I tried it for the better part of a day, with the boat yard crew – particularly Elvis – asking a few questions about my intentions. The next morning I again tackled the job grew very, very frustrated, and stomped (if one can stomp up a 15 foot ladder) up to the cabin and the laptop. I Googled “How to raise the waterline sailboat” and learned these steps.

1. Take a roll of 2” blue tape and tape it along the top edge of the bottom paint.
2. Take a roll of 1” Fine Line Tape and tape it along the top edge of the blue tape.
3. Remove the blue tape. Voila! New waterline.
4. Paint the bottom.

Well d’uh. There is no math involved in this process.

I stomped back down the ladder and walked up to EW and said, “If I raise the waterline two inches all around the boat, can you live with that?” He readily agreed, probably because my tone of voice may have implied that if he couldn’t live with it, we were going to have issues.

Since we have the red boot stripe with a one inch stripe of white between that and the bottom paint, I had to raise two lines, two inches each. I channeled the guys from Great Island Boatyard in Maine, Tom and Kevin, who had given me good (though unsolicited) advice about painting the stripes and the bottom during the last haul-out. So my method is as follows:

For peak efficiency, you need:

• two rolls of 2” blue tape (I only had one roll of 2” blue tape so had to go around the boat once, applying that to the top of the bottom paint.)
• 2 rolls of 1” Fine Line Tape
• 1 light weight step ladder (provided by IGY Marina, thank you very much)

Kevin had told me that you could work with two rolls of tape at once, so I figured that if two is good, four is better, and three worked just fine.

1. Lightly sand, the current white reveal and boot stripe, and two inches above that. (I eyeballed this as EW said he’d polish out any scratches that were above the new stripe.
2. Remove the dust with mineral spirits on a rag.
3. Apply the blue tape to the top of the waterline for the length of your reach (safely)
4. Apply the Fine Line tape along the top edge of the blue
5. Apply the second roll of blue tape along the top edge of the boot stripe
6. Apply the fine line tape along the top edge of that line of blue tape.
7. Tom had told me to make sure I run my fingernail along the edge of the Fine Line tape to make sure there was good contact. I like my short (but feminine) nails so I used a putty knife (carefully). that worked.
8. Remove all of the blue tape. Voila! The new waterline is marked for the bottom and the red boot stripe is isolated in it’s new location – 2 inches above where the boot stripe used to be.
9. Paint the bottom. (This was EW’s job and he did it well. More about that later.)
10. Paint the red boot stripe, which I was able to do while EW painted the bottom. I had to put two coats of red on the boot stripe since it was a new stripe. (Yes, Tom and Kevin, I did sand between coats.) And yes, even though we were in a warmer climate, I still had to wait at least eight hours between coats and never did get up early enough (or work late into cocktail hour) to get two coats on in one day.
11. After the second coat had been applied to the boot stripe and allowed to set up, I removed all of the Fine Line tape. The paint lines were clearly visible, so I once again circled the boat with two rolls of Fine Line, isolating the white reveal.
12. I painted that line twice, sanding between coats because I was painting white over the old red boot stripe.
13. Remove the tape. Ta-Da!

Each blue and red block of words indicates another circuit with the step ladder around our 47 foot boat – 13 times – and that doesn’t count the day I tried to raise the waterline 2.5 inches – partially. I got some isometric exercise that week.

 

Throughout the week of the haul-out one or the other of us would have to walk to the shops for various parts or supplies. EW had been gone for a couple of hours one afternoon while I finished painting the boot stripe. I glanced up when he walked back into view, and saw that he was carrying a number of parcels. I turned back to the task at hand and then whipped my head back to look at EW. “Is that pizza?” “Yep, and it looks like a good one, too. The security guard gave me directions to this Italian place up the road.” “You are my hero.”

Just like back home, we had pizza and beer as a reward for a job well done.

As we were sitting on deck, I looked at the boat next to us. They were having a major job done and had sanded the whole hull, so no bottom line or stripes showed. “I can’t imagine how they make the lines on that boat,” I said. There’s nothing to go by. How can the possibly get a straight line?”

“Oh,” said EW, “they get a laser level thing and draw the line on. That’s what we should have done if we stuck with raising it 2.5 inches only part way around the boat.” 

Now he tells me. 

Once the keel was repaired, EW finished the bottom paint and we re-launched La Luna. As you can imagine, there were many comments about the two-toned bottom. Here’s how that came about.

When we purchased La Luna, her bottom was that ubiquitous blue color you see on a lot of boats. I didn’t like it – particularly as her topsides are white, red, and gold. EW finally consented to paint the bottom red and we both loved it.

He purchased the bottom paint at West Marine in Puerto Rico and they didn’t have the paint he’s used in the past, Interlux Micron Extra with Biolux. Nor did they have any red bottom paint.  He decided to purchase West Marine’s PCA Gold Anti-Fouling Paint, about which we’ve heard good reports from others who sail these waters. Given the options of black and green, I sucked it up and agreed to a black bottom and he expected to get more black bottom paint when we hauled out. EW had a brainstorm in Rodney Bay, since we had to get more paint, why not get red paint and paint the top of the bottom red? That sounded good to me. EW purchased Interlux Micron 66 which is a slightly different red color than what we’d used in the past.  It isn’t our preferred color of red, but it works. EW was brilliant in that he painted the entire rudder red as a two-toned rudder would have look ridiculous. It looks fine. I’m happy. And if I’m happy, EW’s happy. Plus, he gets to conduct his own experiment – which paint will work better in these waters. We’ll let you know.

 

 

NOTE: Neither Interlux nor West Marine were apprised of this post and neither gave us a discount for publishing this. At some point, this site will accept advertising, but does not at the this time, July, 2011.

A Tale of a Great Haul-Out at IGY Marina in Rodney Bay

Chatting with fellow cruisers recently, the discussion turned to Hauling Out. We three women had gone ashore for exercise, leaving our men aboard working on projects. One of them was scheduling a haul out in Trinidad, to coincide with a trip back home to Australia. They still hadn’t decided whether to have the bottom painted during the rainy season in Trinidad or to haul out again later for that purpose. The other first mate said they hadn’t decided whether to haul out over the summer in Grenada or wait until they returned to St. Martin. I said, “I’m glad that’s behind us this year. We hauled out in Rodney Bay and had a great experience there.”

Back in Maine, normal boaters haul out only at the end of the season, when they store their boats. As live-aboards, we generally hauled out every 18 months, and had a diver check the zincs at least twice between haul-outs.  Hauling out is expensive, and if you live aboard, you’ll either have to find a place to stay or adapt to living “on the hard”. Generally I hate living “on the hard”. You can’t use the head or any sink drains. you have to carry any gear/provisions up the ladder and any trash or supplies for the projects down the ladder. The boat may not be faced into the wind so you get no breeze below, the list goes on. I resolved to be cheerful about this haul-out and in fact found it to be not only tolerable, but good. It was a good experience.

We had been referred to IGY at Rodney Bay by two gentlemen we met on a dock in Falmouth Harbor, Antigua. They work on the fine yachts that visit Antigua and then they travel to New England in the summer to work on those fine yachts in their home ports. They were adamant that Rodney Bay was the best place to haul out and get work done south of Antigua. While we were in Guadeloupe, EW sent an email to Edwin Chavez, Assistant Manager at Rodney Bay, and Edwin answered his questions promptly – always a good sign. They had room for us, we could do as much of our own work as we wished, and they had an experienced crew who could fix the keel and rudder and perform any other repairs or improvements we needed. All we had to do is contact Edwin when we arrived in Rodney Bay and book a day and time to haul out.

At fourteen hundred on Wednesday, June 15th, we approached the lift and met Ricky, Dwayne, Jermaine, and Kendall. Ricky is the Yard Manager and the haul out crew chief/guru; his team also includes Gerard who assisted with splashing La Luna, and this is an excellent team.  We had trouble backing against a contrary wind and current and I had trouble tossing a line correctly. They remained unruffled and friendly. After some delay as they worked with EW to determine our aft lift point, they hauled La Luna and hosed her down, leaving her in the lift overnight as the keel dried. (They also set up jack stands to reduce the potential for swaying in the lift – something I’m sure would have been disconcerting.)  Over the next 9 days, we were moved once, and lifted once so that the fiberglass experts could repair the keel. Ricky and his crew always gave us a time for the move, and they were always on time. Ricky, the Yard Manager, is an excellent manager and he knows a lot about boats – not just lifting and hauling them. EW was impressed and I was relaxed with the professional expertise and friendly manner of the whole lift crew. (In Maine, our first sailboat, a Seafarer 26, was placed incorrectly on her jack stands and fell over. I’ve been leery of the whole process ever since, and usually don’t watch.)  In Rodney Bay, La Luna was in good hands.

As for living on the hard, well they supplied a sturdy ladder that they tied to our stern ladder, so there were plenty of hand holds for getting up and down. Edwin was available whenever we had a question, and the rest of the team – from security to billing – were excellent. The marina has heads and showers labeled “male” and “female” (Edwin apologized for the poor grammar before I had seen the signs) and the cleaning lady is frankly unbelievable. The shower building had been damaged in the last hurricane, so tiles were missing, but you  couldn’t ask for a clearer facility. I was happy, but hauling out isn’t about having clean showers to use, hauling out is about getting work done on the boat. That went well, too.

IGY purchased Rodney Bay  Boat Yard and Marina some (one person said 10) years ago. and essentially fired most of the experienced yard workers. Instead those same workers (or the best of them) have trailer offices around the perimeter of the property and are independent contractors. We didn’t understand this but the system works thusly:

1. You can come ashore and go see Elvis, Fiber, Chinaman, or other experts and contract them for work.
2. You can meet with Edwin, the Manager, and go over your needs with him and he will assign the contractors to your project.
3. You can meet with someone at the Marina who will project manage your work, reputedly for no extra fee. Evidently he is paid by the boatyard or contractors, similar to working with a Travel Agent.

 

We didn’t really understand this system, and opted for option number 2 as that is the system we know. There were a few minor glitches during the first days, but once EW understood the system and told Edwin that we wanted him to assign the crew,  things moved along smoothly. We had the boatyard do the following:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1. Repair the keel and rudder from the bad grounding in the Berry Islands, Bahamas
2. Replace the cutlass bearing
3. Clean, wax and polish the hull
4. Polish the stainless steel
5. Provide customs brokerage for parts we’d had shipped to St. Lucia

Steve started grinding the aft end of the keel as soon as they had moved La Luna to her spot on Thursday. Steve worked on the keel and on the cutlass bearing through the end of the week. He didn’t work the following week, so Elvis finished the keel repair, essentially rebuilding the aft corner of the keel, and grinding and repairing the bottom of the keel and the rudder. Both men are very skilled, and both were fun to work with (or around). EW and I each had our own assigned tasks, but had to make sure that we didn’t impede Steve or Elvis. Knowing that your boat is being repaired properly is wonderful, enjoying working with the crew is priceless.

Elvis worked part of the weekend, as did EW and I. EW and I also played a bit by attending Fish Friday with Carl and Carrie from S/V Sanctuary. In fact, as has been mentioned in the previous post about the haul-out, this was the most social haul-out experience I’ve had. We visited with, were hosted by, or ate out with cruisers at least eight times over eleven days. It was a good haul-out. We enjoyed getting to know Elvis and some of the other crew and they were open to sharing advice about the boat as well as where to get the best Caribbean Stewed Chicken. Captain Mikes is a small restaurant/bar right off the fuel dock and it has just come under new ownership. The food was excellent and since they were targeting the locals as well as the cruisers, the prices were very good. We ate there a number of times.

This was a no trauma haul-out – including when it came time to pay. I mentally added up the work we had done and was cringing at what I was afraid the bill would be, while EW had a much more realistic estimate. He was right. We had all that work done, including the cost for the new cutlass bearing, for $2100.00 US. Nice.  We did have just a tad bit of trauma as we were going back into the water. My fault. I had rigged the dock lines and fenders, and handed them up to the lift crew as Ricky lowered La Luna back into the bay. The wind was pushing the bow toward the concrete pier, but I wasn’t worried as I had given Dwayne the bow line. Well, I wasn’t worried until Dwayne exclaimed, “It’s not cleated!” My bad. I ran to the bow and cleated the line and Dwayne hauled with great effort. No worries, mon, though Dwayne, Ricky and the crew gave me a bit of well-deserved grief.

In short. It was a great haul-out experience and we would definitely recommend IGY Marina and Boatyard at Rodney Bay, St. Lucia. And I’m really glad we don’t have to worry again about this for another 12 to 18 months.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EW and some of the IGY crew during the haul-out .                            Moving La Luna into her space for the week./

Keel under repair.                                                                                           La Luna, lifted for keel bottom repair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of Elvis’ crew working on the lifted keel.                                                Beautifully repaired bottom of our keel.

(Looking up from under La Luna.)

Repaired Keel. It’s a beautiful thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you look closely, you will see we have a two-toned bottom -- red and black. More on that in a post about raising the waterline and painting the bottom. 

Below, the Officiant Bag on the ladder.

NOTE: As of this date, July 15, 2011, Harts At Sea does not accept advertising. I was not paid for this post and we did not ask for or receive a discount from IGY Marina. Just sayin’. The crew knew I wrote a blog and did agree to have their photos published and to have me mention their first names.

Life On-the-Hard in St. Lucia

 

View of Pigeon Island off our first anchorage.

I’ve had three cups of coffee this morning. For over a year, I’ve had tea in the mornings, with an occasional coup of coffee when dining out. We have been On-the-Hard for 6 days and haven’t been sleeping well on a motionless boat. As is evidenced by the typo above, coffee was required.

We had an excellent sail from Isles des Saintes to St. Lucia, but couldn’t get the wireless to work for a few days. EW had work to do on-line so my computer time was relegated to un-installing and re-installing the wireless program --- 6 times. Imagine my delight when I finally checked the hardware and found that I had re-assembled it incorrectly and the antenna had become unplugged inside the waterproof housing. Wasted days and wasted nights.

This has to be quick as I need to put the second coat of paint on the boot-stripe. The haul out at Rodney Bay Marina in St. Lucia is largely going very well and we are extremely happy with the crew. It’s all good. There have been frustrating moments and funny moments. Just so you know what’s going on, here’s a quick synopsis:

Sunday, June 12 we arrived in Rodney Bay after a 30 hour sail. EW checked us in on Monday, which is a holiday here, Whit Monday. None of the locals we spoke to knew why there was a holiday, they just knew that most of them had the day off. EW and I had a wonderful dinner ashore at the local restaurant in the national park on Pigeon Island.

Tuesday, June 14, we got in contact with Edwin from Rodney Bay and arranged to have La Luna hauled on Wednesday at 2:00 PM. In the meantime, I went back to the restaurant on Pigeon to try to fix the Wi-Fi, while EW stayed on the boat and babysat Jenny the Honda Generator. When I failed to find the problem, EW went to the restaurant and used their Wi-Fi to get some work done while Jenny and I topped the batteries. EW had a much more exciting shift on La Luna than I did. From my comfortable nook overlooking the deck of the restaurant, I watched first as a squall moved through and then as a police/coast guard boat came alongside and boarded La Luna. They asked EW all sorts of questions, including asking him the color of my eyes as they held my passport. Tricky. He passed.

Wednesday, the 15th was blustery and we had problems backing La Luna into the slipway for the travel lift. We had to go in backwards or would have had to remove the forestay. The marina’s able crew, led by the extremely knowledgeable Ricky, hauled La Luna and left her in the sling for the night. They also put up jack stands so we wouldn’t sway in the wind. We had been invited aboard Molly Bloom for dinner and were happy to visit a floating boat. While on the hard, I can’t use any sink (or the head, of course). The boatyard has good, clean restrooms and showers and I’ve learned to do dishes by putting all wash and rinse water in a slop bucket for removal. Needless to say, there will be no multi-course meals prepared while on board.

Thursday, I toured all of the hardware and marine stores on this side of the harbor, looking for some items I need to do my haul-out projects, with no success. EW got on line in a café, I had little time to do so, and worked on the Wi-Fi when I was on-line. Thursday was a wasted, frustrating day.

This is getting whiny. I’m not often whiney. So make this more positive, here’s what I’ve accomplished so far:

• Defrosted the fridge (again) and created a new insulation system for the freezer. I also had EW remove the freezer shelf and I blocked all access through the front freezer door. We have much less frost build up so far as a result.
• Raised the water line 2 inches, taped off the new boot stripe and applied one coat of paint. Yes, there is a story here. Tune in later. Today I’ll sand that coat of paint and apply another.
• Cleaned out the anchor locker and re-marked the anchor chain.
• Cleaned the companion way non-skid. This is embarrassing. I have cleaned it for the past 9 years, but thought it was oatmeal in color. I used a new product and found out it is white non-skid. Mom would not be impressed.
• Got my haircut…finally!
• Attended an excellent yoga session.

Here’s what I have to do:

• Apply a second coat of the red boot stripe
• Remove the tape.
• Tape the white reveal line and paint it.
• Laundry
• Attend the Yacht Club’s domino’s night on Wednesday. (I like my priorities.)

EW and the yard have their own projects, all of which have been hampered by showers every day. With luck we’ll be back in the water later this week. Since there have been a few low fronts going through and a couple more to come later in the week, I expect that we’ll stay at anchor in Rodney Bay for another week – and I”m hopeful that we’ll be able to play the tourist some.

 

 

 

 

 

This has actually been the easiest time I’ve had living on the hard for a number of reasons:

1. Ricky’s crew provided a ladder that they tied to our stern ladder, providing much more comfortable access to the deck of La Luna. EW always had a ladder at one of the side gates, with little to hold on to at the top. That’s not going to happen again.
2. The bathrooms are really clean.
3. The security guards are friendly and very, very watchful.
4. (Saving the best for last) Our cruising friends have all been on the hard in foreign ports. So far we’ve been invited to dine aboard other boats 4 times in 6 days. Heaven!

I’ve got to apply sunscreen, put a load of laundry in the bucket, and get down below to sand and paint. This is all part of the cruising life in Paradise. It’s a good life.

Eight Helpful People in Guadeloupe

 

One Local Boat at Deshaies

 

 

In the previous episode, EW and I had tried to travel by bus to Pointe a Pitre or “P a P” as it’s abbreviated on the busses, but were stymied by a one day “slow down.”  The Brits here may like Guadeloupe but they don’t have a lot of respect for the French.  To a person, every Brit who heard our story said, “The French! They are always on strike.” Now we know.

Here in Guadeloupe, the French are nearly always helpful and courteous, as evidenced by the wonderful locals we met on our P a P Adventure.

1. The Professor. When stuck in Sainte Rose the first day, EW approached a white gentleman, who turned out to be a retired professor who speaks some English. At the time , he had no idea there was a slow down by the bus drivers, but he gave us his phone number and suggested we call him that evening and he’d let us know if we would be able to reach P a P the next day. Nicolas proved to be a great help. Yes, the bus system would be fully operational. He also had called someone about marine facilities in P a P and told me, “When you get to the bus station, take a taxi to Bas du Fort. Did you understand me?” Well, I understood the taxi, but didn’t quite get the name he had said, so he repeated it twice and spelled it. “Do you understand? Repeat it back to me.” I did understand and promised to that we would take a taxi to Bas du Fort, where he said they had a good marina and the ladies in the office spoke English.

2. The Young Bus Driver.  The next morning, EW and I set off from the boat determined to only ride a large bus that declared it served Pointe a Pirtre and Deshaies, and not take a little bus to Sainte Rose. However, evidently very few of the large busses actually pass between Sainte Rose and Deshaies. At least, that is what we inferred from the driver of the first small bus that stopped. This young man in a baseball cap spoke no English,but he and one passenger were very expressive in letting us know that we must ride a small bus and change to a larger one in Sainte Rose. With eyebrows raised, EW and I looked at each other and agreed to take the little bus. We climbed into the rear seat and off we went once again to Sainte Rose. These small busses are more like family vans that seat 9 comfortably and 11 squished in. They stop at each bus stop, tooting their horn just before arriving so that folks waiting will know a bus is coming. Twice we’ve been on one of these that has gone off the route to deliver someone directly to their door. Most are very well maintained and have little printers to provide a receipt for the $2 EU fee. One was much older and did not.

The drive to Sainte Rose is a beautiful climb through the foothills, past colorful, well cared for homes and languid cattle tethered in the fields, with ocean views to the north. Many of the homes have a metal roof, reminiscent of those red barn roofs in rural Maine. Here they come in red, blue, and green and compliment the colorfully painted houses. Riding through Guadeloupe is a treat. Our young bus driver not only drove us through town to the appropriate bus stop, he also confirmed with the driver that this bus would indeed leave shortly for P a P.  This ride took us through small towns and sugar cane fields, stopping frequently for passengers.

3. The Guy at the Depot.  When we arrived at the Bus Station (pronounced Boos State) we saw no taxis, and the office was locked, but we were determined to do exactly as Nicolas had instructed.  A young man (again with very little English) asked if he could help. We said we wanted a taxi to Bas du Fort and he loped off with a gesture that we should follow. Again, EW and I shrugged a “why not?” and hurried to keep up with him. He led us thorough an enticing market and along two city blocks. The area definitely seemed safe, but the day was very hot and we did not want to walk all the way to the marina. Suddenly, we saw a bank of taxis, and our guide went to one of the drivers and gave us over to him, explaining our destination. EW shook our young friend’s hand - and provide a private tip, which he didn’t seem to expect at all. The taxi driver took us directly to the Bas du Fort, where we easily found the office.

4. Agnes from Tennessee via Brazil. While we waited to speak with the clerks, an attractive animated sailor (we could just tell she was a sailor) was getting directions to the large waterfall in Guadeloupe. This chute is on our list, so we shamelessly eavesdropped on her conversation. She also heard us request the locations of the chandleries and hardware stores. As we were walking through the parking lot, Agnes stopped and offered us a lift to a shop where she knew the owner spoke excellent English. Agnes is spending time on the boat alone as her husband is in Europe on business. She’s bored (and a bit lonely) so decided to rent a car and take herself on a jaunt to the chute. Her husband called while we were with her and she laughingly said to him, “I’m so lonely I’m picking up strange Americans to be my friends.”   Then she handed me the phone and told him to “Meet Barbara.” Agnes did not depart for her trip until she believed we were on the right track.

5. The Guy at the Bus Stop Unfortunately, we should have kept Agnes. None of the stores had the hose we needed or any of the things on our want list. No worries, I thought. The cruising guide (which I had brought with us) identified two other stores less than a mile away and indicated both of them would have more items for sale. Then we found out that those stores had moved to the other side of the bay, a drive of over 6 miles. We left the marina and looked for a taxi. How hard could that be? Hard. It didn’t help that we tried to flag down three different vehicles that had lights on the top as taxis do. Each of these vehicles had two people in them and I actually followed one through a parking lot so we could grab the cab when the passenger got off. But they drove right though the parking lot and exited. Three sightings later and I realized the signs on top said: Auto Ecole.  We know them as Driver’s Education vehicles.  I’d been trying to flag down three different  white knuckled student drivers. So we walked to the bus stop, where the bus driver was talking to yet another guy who hangs out at bus stops. That gentleman spoke enough English to get us to understand that we could take this bus back to the bus station (Boos State) and take a different bus to the other side of the bay.

6. Taxi Driver.  As we rode this bus into a more gentrified section of the city we decided to get off at a taxi stand to save time. Our bus driver hailed a taxi for us and we had a rather frustrating conversation with the driver about our destination. He knew that section of town, but did not know where either store was located and was reluctant to take us there. Once we convinced him to please “just drive” and we arrived in that neighborhood we understood his reluctance. The marine stores had moved to a commercial area of wholesale companies and lumber yards. There are no sidewalks and the section is spread out for a number of miles. EW and I began to read the signs with care and spotted both marine stores immediately. Our driver dropped us right at the door.

7. Young Lady at the Bus Stop Having finally secured our precious hose, EW and I walked (under my protest) back toward the city, arriving after 40 hot minutes at a round-about with bus stops on three different corners.. We had lost all sense of direction, and waited at the wrong stop for a half hour. Finally we hailed a bus driver and asked about the next bus to Deshaies. He communicated that we must cross the street (four lanes with a median) and wait for a bus going in the other direction, and he immediately realized that the bus pulling in was indeed going to Deshaies. He tooted his horn and yelled at the driver while we made our way laughing and thanking everyone (stopped cars, the other bus driver, etc.) to the correct side of the road. A young lady had also crossed the street with us, but she didn’t want to go to Deshaies. I was smiling and effusive as I greeted the driver, who wouldn’t let us on board. Yes, his bus was going to Deshaies, but we weren’t welcome on it. He was very stern. The young lady was as nonplussed as I and asked him a question, beginning respectfully with “Monsieur”; I’m not sure what he said to her, but was stern and it was clear we weren’t going to take that bus. The bus wasn’t full, so we assume that he didn’t like our skin color, or our attitude. Maybe he thought the dash across traffic suggested an imperious nature. We did not get on the bus. The young lady, who spoke little  English, still expressed surprise and remorse. We enjoyed her company until her bus arrived.

8. Two Ladies – One in Cool White Pants We waited for over thirty minutes as numerous buses arrived from Saint Rose and Deshaies on the other side of the street, but did not reappear at our stop going the other way. We indulged in watching the people of Guadeloupe. Two women began walking in our direction, and EW actually mentioned first, “Look at those pants! They are cool.”“ They were. They were white pants with very full legs in a light but opaque fabric – perfect for this hot climate, and they looked wonderful on her. As the ladies walked past, they could tell we were talking about them, so I indicated that I thought her pants were “Tres bien” – even “magnifique”. She laughed and blushed and thanked me. Then they asked where we were going and told us we were at the wrong stop. They escorted us to the third stop in the area and made sure to ask others waiting there if it was the right location. We thanked them, and they resumed their walk. A bus for Deshaies arrived less than 15 minutes later.

This is a beautiful country with friendly, helpful people who are fortunately so expressive that they can communicate when we need help. We were two white English speaking strangers on a French island and we had a marvelous experience. The next day we did boat work and EW repaired our engine. Finding the part took two days, and it was worth it.

Dinghy Docks

  On my knees in the dinghy, pushing other inflatable vehicles to port and starboard, inch by inch, I moved the dinghy forward into free space on the dock. Since we were going to leave the dinghy for a few hours – well most of the day --- I wanted to tie her up where she would be less likely to impede other cruisers. Using the motor would have allowed me to be the only active participant in an exciting game of bumper boats, by using my hands and limited knowledge of physics i could more accurately work my way to the far corner of the U-shaped space. We were in St. Thomas, visiting EW’s cousins and spent most days with them or touring in town. When Jeff chauffeured us, we left the dinghy at the marina for five, six, or more hours, in violation of the rules.

Cruising Sailors- particularly we who are full time – are notoriously cheap. We are not welcomed visitors in some marinas and provide no income to high-end tourist shops.  We are do-it your-selfers who don’t want to purchase things that clutter the boat, and we anchor out nearly all the time. Cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap. (We also eat a lot of chicken – particularly those of us who don’t catch a lot of fish.)

We anchor out, but we want to go ashore in various harbors, and that means we need to use a dinghy dock to secure the dinghy.  Savvy communities have town docks to allow sailors to go ashore and use the local shops and services. Restaurants often have dingy docks for use while boaters dine and some of them allow us to stay on the docks while we visit the community and shop and do laundry. In Nassau, we used the one at the Green Parrot and gave them most of our eating out budget when we were in town. In Luperon, the town has an aged, crumbling dock for boaters to use. While we were there we heard that the mayor has offered to provide materials for a new dock and it looks like the cruisers will provide the labor. In Fort Lauderdale, where the town would love to severely limit anchoring, we could tie our dinghy to the dock at the South Port Raw Bar for $10.00. We could use the receipt for $10.00 of food and drink in the restaurant, and they didn’t limit our time on the dock. In Hampton, Virginia we could tie the dinghy up at the town dock at one end of the harbor or at South Port Marine on the other end, depending on where we wanted to go once ashore.  We gave our fuel business to South Port Marine to thank them for the service.

Since we left Luperon, we have tied at the dinghy docks provided by marinas where we spend money only for diesel and water. This is a privilege, not a right and we are thankful they have set aside space for us. Evidently not everyone feels the same way. While I was maneuvering the dinghy that morning in St. Thomas, the dock master stopped by and helped move a large dinghy that was blocking access to the inner dock. I thanked her and she thanked me for working to get the dinghy into open space away from the entrance, particularly as we had “been leaving the dinghy all day”. So someone had noticed our rules violation, but I knew we weren’t the only ones. I thanked her for providing the space and she mentioned that not all felt the same way. It seems that there are cruisers – cheap ones like we are – who find fault with free, secure dinghy docks. Really? There are people who are living their dreams, cruising in warm waters, spending as little as possible, and complaining that the free dinghy dock is full or that they have to work to push aside other boats to enter and exit?  “I deal with that nearly every day”, she said.

I think it’s time for a reality check. Nothing is perfect, this is an adventure, not a guided tour. If you want everything handled for you, “sail” on a cruise ship or crewed charter. I am grateful every day, for EW, La Luna, friends and family, this lifestyle we are living, and the little things like dinghy docks that make it possible. You won’t hear me complaining to the dock master – I’m more likely to bake her a loaf of bread.

PHOTOS, TOP TO BOTTOM

Dinghy Dock at Crown Bay Marina. La Luna’s tender (Lunah Landah) is to the lower right, partially under the dock. You can see her white paddle. The narrow opening to the space is in the upper right.

Rules at Crown Bay Dinghy Dock

Dinghy Landing at Jolly Harbor in Antigua

Crown Bay, again. The entrance is to the left. You can see all the large dinghies that parked in the middle despite the room at the far end.

Electrical Woes - Why We Haven't Gone Cruising Yet

I haven't written much about the massive project underway aboard La Luna. 

You know we needed a high output alternator. You may know that this problem effectively killed the other two alternators. Those were repaired by an amazing electrical motor guy in Brunswick. He works at Morin's. He. Is. Amazing.

Another amazing guy is Mickey, one of the systems specialists at Great Island Boatyard. Mickey has basically moved aboard La Luna during the day. EW and I try not to think of how much this will cost. The cost doesn't seem important when Mickey finds and fixes things like this:

This is a wiring harness -- a group of wires run together. Before we bought the boat some yahoo ran this bridle of wires up next to the manifold. The manifold gets hot when the engine runs. We aren't sure why our surveyor missed this. We also aren't sure why anything worked. Ever. We also aren't sure why the boat hadn't burned -- or when it would have if this hadn't been found. In addition to installing new and old alternators,

Mickey is fixing stuff like this. Costly. But priceless. 

 

P.S.  I have to confess how little I know about this stuff. When I wrote this -- but before I hit "Publish" I had called this part a "bridle". Knew it was a horse thing. Thankfully EW returned my call in the nick of time! 

Nine And a Half Months

No, we haven't left yet. I feel like a pregnant woman whose baby is overdue.

 

    "No, I haven't delivered yet."

    "Yes, I'm more than ready."

    "Yep, I feel as big as a house."

 

In our case it's, 

    "No, we haven't left yet."

    "Yes, I know it's getting colder."

    "Yep, I'm anxious."

 

The update is: we are on the dock in Harpswell as we do have to get a high output alternator. We had suspected it before the alternator we had died a week ago, causing the refrigeration to turn off due to low voltage. Mickey, an incredibly knowledgeable systems guy at Great Island Boatyard (and Landing School Graduate) is "on it". He has been working on La Luna since the middle of last week. He has been doing a lot of necessary re-wiring, fixing prior bad acts and will install the new alternator tomorrow. 

In a nutshell, our Perkins Diesel engine came with a regular alternator that is designed to start the engine -- just like in a truck. It is not designed to charge up a huge battery bank and ultimately it died a slow, painful (to the batteries) death. 

We are getting a 200 Amp high output alternator from Great Water in Brunswick. Mark met us on the boat last week and worked with EW to figure out our options. Mickey is creating magic with those options. 

Yes, I wish we had realized this was the issue in July -- but them's the breaks. 

Trust me, there is nothing funny you can say to me about still being here that I haven't heard. 

Here's what I know: 

    1. When I purged last spring, I got rid of too many of my socks. I've stolen a pair from EW twice so far. (Don't tell him, he won't know since he hasn't had time to read the blog.)

    2. Saying good-bye to close friends and family is harder when you don't go after saying goodbye. 

    3. Both EW and I keep singing a Dan Hicks song (We love Dan Hicks) "How Can I Miss You When You Won't Go Away"

    4. When we go we will leave very early in the morning and head to Gloucester, Massachusetts. If weather and tide are good we'll stay one night and head to the Cape Cod Canal. After the canal we'll stay overnight and (if the weather is good) head outside of Long Island to Delaware Bay. That leg will include an overnight passage. If the current and winds are right we'll go up the Delaware Bay to the Delaware Canal that will take us to the Chesapeake. If the current and winds aren't right we'll probably anchor in Atlantic City as we've been told that has a good anchorage. Once we get to the Chesapeake, we'll anchor there, visit with friends and family and continue to work on the boat. We cannot go south of Hatteras SC until after November 11 due to insurance (hurricane season). 

    5. I'm trying to enjoy the moment and embrace my inner cruiser. But I don't always succeed. 

So, to end this post, I give you three funny stories from the past week:

Story #1

    I was in Portland and EW was aboard La Luna rearranging things so that Mickey had room to work. EW called to let me know that we were invited to lunch the next day with a friend who was celebrating his birthday. I said, "I think there are some good birthday cards in the forward cabin."  EW  immediately replied, "There is no forward cabin." We bought a card. The forward cabin is currently lost under a pile.

Story # 2

   I was in Portland to have a "last" lunch with K, a woman who has been a dear friend since we were 10 years old. This was a tough good-bye lunch and also celebrated my October Birthday. (More about that later.) When K presented me with the perfect birthday card, I immediately teared up. She waved her finger and said, "There is no crying at lunch!" Really? Well there wasn't but there was crying at Borders when we finally parted after shopping together. "There is no crying at lunch" has become my response to a number of things. 

Story #3

   This morning, EW dropped me off at the Bowdoin Library so I could get some work done on the computer while he ran errands. One of those errands was to drop the returnables off at CLYNK . I told him that the bag may not have a sticker but I had one in my purse, found it for him and put it on the console. I didn't hear a response. "Hello?" I said. "You there?" (I'm sitting next to him in the car, remember.) "What?" Said EW. "Did you hear me about the sticker, you didn't acknowledge me." "I did," he said. "I said, "huh". I started to giggle, then I laughed until I cried. He started laughing at me. Finally I said, " 'Huh' is not acknowledgement. 'Yes, Dear' is acknowledgement. 'OK' is acknowledgement. A soft unheard 'huh' is nothing." Just so he knows.  I also taught him to text so he can contact me at the library. He's all over it. And he acknowledges every one of my texts. Lesson learned. 

Finally, today's disclaimers.

1. I mentioned and provided links to Great Island Boatyard, Great Water, Inc., The Landing School, and CLYNK today. None of them know I did this and none of them paid for any advertising. I did not ask for any discount. They do good work. Mickey is this week's boatyard hero. 

2. EW is a good sport. Thank heavens. 

3. I'm thrilled we are going and we are going. You will know when it happens. I promise. 

 

What We Have Learned Living on the "Hook"

Hubris is a wonderful thing. Definition: Excessive Pride or Self Confidence. Yep. I've got that. I have been pretty proud of how I've cheerfully and delightedly adapted to living aboard these past eight years. 

    Getting rid of stuff? No problemo. It is freeing to let go of things. 

    Living in a confined space? Well, we just don't need as much space as we think we do. It's easy!

    Power issues? Heck, when all of you land-lubbahs lose power in a storm, we rely on our batteries and engine and keep on going. No issue!

You get the idea. If you're a regular reader of this blog you have certainly read posts that reflect a very self-satisfied attitude. 

You may also have read the more recent post about cleaning out the storage locker. Yeah. Getting rid of the last of the stuff involved tears, angst, and begging -- begging my favorite sister and two dear friends to take stuff for the duration. That brought me down a peg. 

As for the confined space, it's a bit different when you can't just walk up the dock and hop in a car or take a walk to town. Since April we've mostly been on a mooring in Harpswell. And I have enjoyed it more than I expected. But ...

• If I'm out there and have no new book to read -- I have no new book to read.
• If I didn't get quite all the ingredients needed for a recipe -- it becomes a "boat recipe", one in which contains what I've got on hand, not necessarily what is called for. 
• If I want to be alone and EW is on board, I am not alone. 
• If he wants to be alone and I'm on board, I'm usually not just on board but talking. (Poor EW.) 
• If I want to listen to the radio in the morning and the engine is running to charge the batteries, I don't listen to radio in the morning.

We've also discovered some things about the boat, one of which is critical -- charging the batteries.

Evidently, a regular old alternator, such as the one on La Luna's motor isn't adequate for charging the batteries on a full time basis. We would need to purchase and have installed a big honkin' alternator that costs over $3000.00. Or, we could purchase a generator - but would have to actually pull the engine in order to install it. And it would still be noisy. 

This never came up on our much shorter (2- 9 days) trips away from the dock. 

After new batteries and numerous repairs to engine parts, we have determined that we need to purchase a means to charge the batteries that does not involve a combustion engine and that does allow the batteries to reach full charge. Batteries that do not reach a full charge become weaker as time goes on. Just like us. (Not going there.)

Solar panels or wind generator?  First, for you non-sailor types, we actually count the Amp Hours used in a normal day at sea and a normal day at anchor to determine how much power we use and how to replace that power. Power "hogs" include the refrigeration and auto-pilot. Additional power is used by the computer, instruments, radio, lights, Cuisinart (Hey! I live here!), sewing machine .. you get the idea. 

We do not have a microwave, nor do we have an electric toaster or toaster oven. Most of our lighting is now LED, which uses a LOT less power. We even installed a tri-color LED anchor light this year. That's a big deal. 

We've done some research: we talked with boat folks, we searched the internet and we read. Nigel Calder and Don Casey don't know we exist but we consider them friends. They've have provided a lot of information for us.

So, back to the question, solar panels or wind generator?

• We need 4-130 Watt solar panels to meet our needs.
• We can't put any solar panels on the bimini because the boom hangs over it and would take out the panels. 
• We can put two solar panels on the dodger but that isn't enough to top up the batteries.

So we're looking at wind generators. We have both found excellent articles on line and may have settled on a model that will work in heavy winds but that starts generating power in low winds (fewer than 10 knots). That's important because sailors anchor in protected harbors, where the winds may be lighter. (I didn't think of that until I did research on the Internet.) EW came up with this article and we are now looking at the new Air Breeze wind generator. 

Ultimately, we'll also add those two solar panels on top of the dodger. But not this year. 

Stay tuned in to follow the purchase and installation (that's always fun). We'll let you know how it goes. 

And to my loyal readers who want us to get a Panda Generator. We don't wanna. 'Nuff said. Really. You can't make me, you can't make me. Love you anyway.