Slaying Dragons - Revisited

Whenever we talk with people about our travels or give presentations about living aboard, we always talk about slaying dragons. It's definitely a recurring theme. We explain that we are not the Cornells, nor the Pardys, nor the Hiscocks. We weren't brought up sailing. We took sailing lessons in our 40s, read lots of books and did lots of charters. In 2000, we finally bought Nine of Cups, sold up and sailed off. Sounds easy when we think about it now, but it wasn't. There were lots of obstacles and challenges along the way to overcome … dragons. We've been meeting lots of folks recently who are thinking about sailing and living aboard or who have just made the plunge (pun intended), so we thought it might be worthwhile sharing this blog post from January 2013 again. A good reminder that on land or or at sea, there are always dragons with which to contend.

It's the Captain's birthday today, by the way. Not a milestone birthday, but another year older and hopefully wiser and certainly more loved than ever. We're out celebrating … no dragon slaying today.

“Do one thing everyday that scares you” said Eleanor Roosevelt. I'm not quite sure I agree. I need a break every once in awhile from things that scare me, but maybe once a week would be okay. Really what she means is to keep yourself challenged, not necessarily with life-threatening activities, just traveling into new and uncharted territory once in awhile. Don't be afraid to try new things.

Old nautical charts frequently used the expression “Here Be Dragons” for uncharted, unknown territories. When we first moved aboard, everything was new and uncharted … our lifestyle, the boat, living on the water instead of land. Heck, even the terminology was different. It wasn't the toilet any more; it was the head. Dreaming the dream of heading off into the sunset on a sailboat is one thing, but actually doing it ... well, that was downright daunting.

Enter the dragons. We define dragons as anything that causes angst. Fears and anticipation that get your heart pounding, adrenaline pumping and/or stomach churning. There were dragons lurking about the first time we took our new boat out into the Gulf of Mexico; the first time we were out of sight of land; the first time anchoring; the first time waiting for a bridge to open; the first overnight passage which included our first overnight watches alone. It was a world of firsts. Each day was a new dragon to face, a fear to overcome, a dragon to slay.

Dragons come in all sizes and shapes. It doesn't have to be a heart pounding experience. I'm not a seamstress, so when we determined in Ecuador that the cost of replacing the dodger and bimini was too expensive, we decided that I'd make new ones. The dread was palpable. I'd never done this type of a major sewing project before. What if I screwed it up? What if I wrecked all that expensive fabric? What if I failed? Take a deep breath. Think it through. Do some research. Talk out the plan with David. Start the project … then just a little further. Not right? Tear it out and do it again. Be patient. Just a little further. We ended up with a new dodger, bimini, sail cover, winch covers, hatch covers and more. Because once you slay a dragon, you get a new burst of energy and confidence.

Have we had any heart pounding experiences? Oh, sure. I can't imagine anyone living on a boat crossing an ocean that hasn't had at least one or two hairy times. Squalls come up unexpectedly and the first few times, you wonder what the hell you're doing out in this miserable weather with waves breaking over the bow. We've hit rocks and reefs, dragged at anchor, almost had a dragging ship hit us at anchor. The good thing about experiences like this is that they teach you.

We've been told “Oh, you're so brave. I could never do what you're doing.” Wrong! You could, if you wanted to. It might not be your cup of tea, but you could do it. I firmly believe, you can do most anything you want, if you want it enough and are willing to slay a few dragons along the way. Give it try. Do something that scares you today. Slay a dragon.

Along the ICW - A Change in Plans?

Day 14 – 8 nm to go It rained during the night and we woke to a grey morning. We slept with our aft hatch open and knew it was raining when our feet got wet. We were up by 0530, but it was a lazy, dreary morning. I wrote and edited photos while David made a run to the local Taylor Do-It Center to find a new hose nozzle and connector.

I watched Canada geese with their goslings only a few feet away from the dock. A mallard duck couple mingled with the geese, but were given the snub by the geese and cautionary honks when they waddled too close to the goslings. Squirrels raced around and we saw several brown bunnies enjoying the rich green grass a la morning dew.

We had every intention of making the 0900 Great Bridge opening, but the VHF wailed a violent weather alert for our area about 0830 and we decided to stick around till the weather passed. At first the thunder was distant and half-hearted, but the squall approached quickly and in no time, the lightning bolted through the sky, thunder cracked and the heavens opened up and gave us a good dousing. With only 8nm to Norfolk, the end of the ICW (and 8 bridges and a set of locks), there was no rush.

Around 10:00, there was a lull in the rain. We sprung off the dock, made a U-turn in the channel and tied up at the Atlantic Yacht Basin (AYB) fuel dock on the opposite shore for a diesel top-up. The rain began in earnest again and since we were alone at the fuel dock, the dockmaster had no problems delaying the fuel fill till the rain stopped. We decided we'd take a look around. AYB is a working boatyard, not a marina. There were still basic amenities like hot showers, laundry, free wifi, water and electric on the docks, but there was also a 60-ton Travelift, an on-site chandlery, several boats on the hard and lots of workers busy at their trade. This place had potential.

So time for consultation and consideration … we had lots of questions.

1. Did they have room for Nine of Cups if we decided to leave her here till our return in early September? Were the rates reasonable?
2. Did they have a marine mechanic on staff for the transmission repair? And what would the repair costs be?
3. Would Cups be safe here during hurricane season?
4. Could we rent a one-way car here in Chesapeake, VA to drive up to Boston and how would we get to the rental car place?
5. We intend to drive back from Las Vegas in September, leave the car and sail for a month or so. Could we leave our car here safely and without cost?

For the answers to these questions and many more and the results of our decision, check back tomorrow.

Intracoastal Waterway - Day 13

Day 13 - 54 nm to go It was a boisterous, no-sleep night. The wind howled to 30+ knot winds from the southwest. The anchor alarm sounded about 12:30 am; we were dragging. We were up on deck in a flash. The anchor had evidently broken free and we were traveling at about .5 knot towards the channel. We had plenty of room and water all around us, but still it was disconcerting to know that our big, hefty 80# Manson Boss anchor and 100' of chain couldn't keep us in place in 12' of water. We re-anchored and set the hook once again, but what little sleep we got the rest of the night was fitful at best.

The morning dawned sunny, but it was still blustery with 25 knot winds whipping up white caps. We wended our way through the Abermarle Sound-Great Bridge Canal. It was a circuitous route, but deep (15-20') in most parts. Some areas shoaled and we kept one eye on the chart plotter, one on the depth meter, one on the hazard notes and one concentrating on the actual channel and markers. Thank goodness we have four eyes aboard.

We crossed into Virginia and after a hefty dose of bridge transits, we tied up to the free docks in Chesapeake, Virginia. What a delightful place to stop. The wharf is new and accommodates about 5-6 boats, but we were the only ones there. Not for long though … three more boats showed up within an hour and the dock was full to capacity when another boat showed up later. We chatted with the other cruisers … two Canadian boats, another from Washington state and a big traditional ketch from New Orleans. That's Cups on the far end.

Adjacent to the docks is a lovely little park with a short loop walk along the canal and several historical markers touting Chesapeake, VA as the first land battle of the American Revolution in Virginia. We whupped the Brits in the Battle of Great Bridge.

There was a short path to the main road. We crossed the Great Bridge bascule bridge ... on land for a change ... and got a good look at the bridge and canal from a different perspective when it opened at 3pm.

A huge, wide barge was making a transit. We marveled at the expertise required by the tug captain to negotiate such a huge barge around the river bends and through the bridges. We were quite happy that we hadn't been in the canal when he came through because there would have been no room left for Nine of Cups.

A fine, big grocery store, Farm Fresh, was only a ¼ mile away. We stopped for a late lunch/early dinner and a cold beer en route. We figured shopping on empty stomachs was a bad idea. We stocked up on freshies and a few other basics and hauled it all back to the boat. We were all set for another few days at anchor.

It was a pleasure to be tied up at the dock ... all snug and secure … and free. We slept like rocks till morning.