Showing posts with label Camp Lejeune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Camp Lejeune. Show all posts

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Marina Musings

Magothy River Anchorage, MD
Deciding to go cruising is a long process. Most people who decide to go cruising don't know anyone else doing it personally and have never been out cruising with friends, so the picture of what cruising actually is is pretty indistinct. This was certainly true for us as was evidenced by the fact that we never even thought about the ICW in our planning. We thought about long ocean passages, we thought about weather, we thought about equipment as related to passages and weather, but the idea that we would motor down the ICW some 1000 miles just never even entered our minds.

One of the biggest things we've learned about cruising in general this past year is that it's important to think about what kind of cruiser you want to be, and to be honest with yourself about whether you have the abilities and characteristics to be that kind of cruiser. It will impact the way you prepare to cruise, the things you purchase, the things you bring from your land life, and your expectations. We've said often on this blog in recent months that we always pictured ourselves as blue water cruisers, taking long passages and rarely sitting for long periods of time. This reasoning came as a result of our long passages around New England and with John Kretschmer in the Bahamas, passages where there was adequate crew to ease the load of passage making. The reality of it was that we suffered more from sea sickness than we thought we would, and sail changes at night in bad weather were more stressful than we were comfortable with. We simply didn't enjoy it when we were short handed.

Broad Creek Anchorage, NC
I never really began to think about what kind of cruiser I wanted to be until our friend Kacey came to visit for two weeks. He wanted to spend a prolonged time out “doing it” and toward the end when we had some long, ranging talks about his experiences he said he had decided he was more a liveaboard than a cruiser. It really got me on this train of thought and with every passing month, and with every additional experience, our “kind of cruiser” is being better defined.


So what does this have to do with the title of this blog post? Because for the last month we've been parked at a dock in a marina. It's a nice marina with great reviews on Active Captain, beautiful landscaping, a view of some incredible yachts, good dock mates, and all the conveniences of home. So why do I hate it? Because Kintala can't swing into the wind and the sun doesn't do its ripple reflection thing on the ceiling in the morning, the water is disgusting, there's no dolphins and I've gotten hurt not once, but twice getting on and off the boat at high tide. One kind of cruiser I definitely don't want to be is a marina rat.

Pungo River Anchorage NC
This is not to say that being a marina rat isn't a good thing. For some people. There are a half dozen people here who live full time in the marina, most of them on trawlers of some sort, although a few are on sailboats. If being a liveaboard is your thing then a marina is the place to be. A continuing flow of ice and clean clothes and long showers is not to be taken lightly, and we've been in a few really exceptional ones like Oak Harbor and Barefoot. But would I trade it for a mooring? In a heartbeat.


We've spent a good bit of time on the Vero Beach mooring field, and it's called Velcro Beach for a good reason. Great protection, excellent dinghy dock and lounge/shower/laundry facilities, free bus service, and a beautiful beach. The best beach, though was at Treasure Cay, Abacos. The moorings there are reasonable at $20 a day, and the facilities are great. St. Augustine was one of those places where the mooring field sucked because it's so exposed and the dinghy ride to the dock is long and wet, but the town made up for it with rich history everywhere. More recently we spent quite a bit of time in Coconut Grove at the Dinner Key Mooring Facility. As far as moorings go, the actual mooring field sucks like St. Augustine because it's so exposed. The exposure does give you a fantastic skyline view of downtown Miami and oncoming thunderstorms, fresh air and a nearly constant breeze abound, and the mosquitoes are few if you're out far enough. The reason we would go back there, though, is the staff. Patrick and his staff are without any doubt the most talented customer service division we've seen on a mooring field anywhere. They are helpful, polite, prompt, knowledgeable, and make you feel like you're the only reason they're there. And yet...

From the dock at Oriental, NC
We would still rather anchor out when given the choice. We are almost always happier when we are cozied up in a cove somewhere either by ourselves or with a couple other boats. It's best if the water is clear, the bottom sandy, and the weather warm, but we've equally enjoyed some cold, gray, stormy anchorages with cups of coffee and warm sweatshirts. We've anchored up rivers in Maryland, in inlets in South Carolina, in bays in North Carolina, along long stretches of beach in the Abacos, in a tiny cove in Egg Island, Eleuthra, in Middle River, FL, and right smack dab in the middle of Nassau. Each one has had its own flavor, each one serves to meet a mood.

Camp LeJeune Anchorage

After a year of thinking about this all, here's my Pros and Cons list for each. What kind of cruiser are you?

Marinas


Pros Cons
Air conditioning in hot climates, heat in cold. Noise: other boats, road and city traffic, neighbors
Easy access to groceries, trash, water, electricity, laundry, and sometimes (if you're very lucky) wifi Wifi rarely works
You get to meet more people You have to put up with people that you may not care for
Easier to work on the boat Harder to go sailing since you're established in one place
Ice Cream Access: 10 Wakes from passing power boaters


You spend WAY more money because everything is so accessible
No need for a dinghy dock Hard to get on and off the boat when docks are not floating. Easy to get hurt.
No running the generator. Power at the dock is low quality and we've had two shore power cords burn in 7 years.


Services vary wildy for the same money. The best marina we ever stayed in cost 1/3 of our current dock.

Charleston, SC anchorage

Moorings


Pros Cons
More stable ride since the boat always swings into the wind Sometimes exposed
Good ventilation since the boat swings into the wind Sometimes relatively expensive. Quality is inconsistent
Less worry about dragging in high winds You need to know the quality of the mooring
Relatively accessible to services like groceries, banks, laundry, etc., depending on the mooring You spend more money than anchoring
You can run the generator but... Some people don't want to hear it
Most mooring fields have cruiser nets to facilitate getting to meet people For some reason jet skis feel it is their personal duty to run high speed through mooring fields. Honestly. Every one we've been in.
Dinghy dock available

Ice Cream Access: 8



South Beach Miami Anchorage
Anchorages


Pros Cons
Freedom. You rarely have anyone telling you what to do, anchoring well is a challenge and builds skill You're totally responsible for your safety
You pick the view Services vary depending on where you pick
Free Sometimes harder to meet people
Ventilation is good since the boat always swings into the wind Sometimes people can anchor too close or be obnoxious
Did I mention free? Ice Cream Access: Dependent on location, but usually around a 4
4G cell internet available in most populated areas, even in the Bahamas. We were rarely without it Wifi is rarely available without an extender, and even with one most wifi is password protected now
Privacy is excellent Dinghy docks are hard to come by and usually cost
You can run the generator whenever you feel like it



No-Name Harbor, FL
Hatchet Bay, Eleuthra Anchorage
Dinner Key Mooring Facility, FL

Monday, December 2, 2013

Mile Hammock

Five boats spent the night in Mile Hammock Bay. By 0800 this morning 4 of them were on their way further down the ICW. Kintala remained behind for a long awaited rendezvous. When we left Boulder Good Friend James was finalizing plans to head East as well. We have been keeping track of each other's progress and heard that Chardonnay had been lifted from Carlyle lake, loaded on a truck, and currently resides at Swan Point marina, located just over two miles from here. Kintala is allergic to dock fees at the moment and this is the closest anchorage; so this morning James headed this way. His boat is still on the hard (of course) so he drove to the parking lot that lies along side the bay. That still left about 400 feet of cold water between us.

Bridging this final gap meant flopping the dink over the side and reuniting it with the outboard for the first time since Back Creek in Annapolis. That was when we discovered that our newly purchased motor would not actually motor anything. Randy fixed it in Oriental but we never had a chance to try it out. So I admit some trepidation when reaching for the pull cord. (This is no reflection on Randy's skills, just my experience with anything mechanical related in any way to Kintala.) And for a moment it appeared my fears were well founded. There was much relief when the motor eventually sputtered, caught, and then kept running. I smiled and waved at Deb which resulted in the motor immediately dying. That whole kill-switch-attached-to-the-wrist thing sounds like a good idea, but … I actually killed the motor several times this way. Good thing no one was close enough to see. Keeping hand on tiller I made a couple of circles around the boat and then Deb jumped aboard for a couple of more. I know it sounds pretty dumb but I've never driven a dinghy with a motor before and figured I should give it a try; lessen the risk of dumping James in the drink from the dink.

The dink is an unwieldy thing but it does get the job done. Loading James, some Captain Morgan Black and a six-pack of Blue Moon aboard we headed back to the main house. (Never miss a chance to have a friend pick up some needed supplies.) We had a great visit that included a couple of dolphins nosing around. Tales, catching up, a fantastic dinner, some more catching up, and it was after sundown when the dink made the return trip.

(Dinking at night must be an acquired taste, particularly on a cold, misty, pretty dark night. Can't say I enjoyed it much.) Getting the outboard secured and the dink on the deck after dark was another first but went well enough.

Tomorrow morning we intend to head out with the other two boats who have joined us for tonight.



Sunday, December 1, 2013

A 39 mile GPS approach

Back in my old life we used to find runways shrouded in ugly weather using various land and satellite based systems; NDB, VOR, ILS, LOC, Back Course, and the latest and greatest LVP/GPS.  Though we might start setting up for one of these 100 miles or more from the airport the hard part, that bit where we worked extra hard at having everything exactly right (because Mother Earth was near by and going past at a very high rate of speed) was usually less than 10 miles long and was finished in just a couple of minutes.

Today we left the anchorage at Taylor Creek in Beaufort at 0800, heading for a place called Mile Hammock Bay.  The bay actually belongs to the military and lies within the confines of Camp Lejeune.  Word has it various units use this place for loud and impressive practice at all hours of the day and night though the cruising community thinks of it as a good anchorage.  And it is.  This night there are 5 sailboats here, all resting peacefully in the mist and rain.  Getting here wasn't as peaceful.

The short days and changeable winter weather have Kintala still in the ICW, and this part of the ICW is tight, convoluted, and beset with currents; an easy place to lose one's way.  Bogue Sound is a large expanse of water just a couple of feet deep except for the channel gouged out by the dredgers.  That channel is barely 100 feet wide and, after passing through the sound convolutes its way, first around the Bogue Inlet, then zigging and zagging through the Bear and Brown inlets, and finally winding its way into the New River inlet where lies the cut into Mile Hammock Bay.  It was like shooting a 5 hour, 38.2 mile long GPS approach.


There were a couple of other chapters adding to the fun today.  Being lake sailors we never dipped very far into Kintala's fuel tank.  I have done some basic math of fuel burns and a bit less than 1 gal per hour of engine time has been the answer.  We left this morning with a estimated 1/2 tank; a number echoed by the fuel gauge ... kind of.  Let us just say the average of its bounces seemed to be around 1/2.  But a routine engine gauges check just as we got into the Bogue Sound provoked a crass claim from yours truly, the gage was bouncing on ZERO, EMPTY, about to cough an engine  and face bleeding the air from the Wester-Beast again.  Fortunately Spooner's Creek Marina was near at hand.  Quick communications by Deb had us in and at the fuel dock where Kintala took almost exactly 1/2 tank of gas.  Add "fuel gage" to the list of things that don't work very well.


And then there was the Onslow Beach Swing Bridge.  East of the Bridge a tug had grounded its tow against the bank; deliberately or by bone-bone headed driving.  Either way the thing swung out and nearly blocked the entire width of the narrow channel.  As we eased by the stern Kintala was nearly shoved aground by the wake of the tows still spinning engines.  Ugly.  (That tow had already run one boat aground, we heard the Captain getting help from Tow Boat US and, in fact, he is in the anchorage with us tonight.)  Just a couple of miles after having survived the towboat of Thrash we noticed what looked like a large industrial complex in the middle of the still narrow channel.  That turned out to be one towboat dragging a dredging platform and hundreds of feet of pipe all being helped along by a second towboat pushing on the whole rig.  Four sailboats, including Kintala, were soon stacked up behind this assembly as it slowly approached the bridge.  I mean slowly like less than 2 knots, a bit of a trick since the current was about 2 knots.  A boat moving two knots in a two knot current is actually not moving in the water, which means it can't be steered either.  The four of us were doing quite a dance.  It all worked though and eventually the whole entourage of tows and barge and pipes and sailboats cleared the bridge and went about our business.


We saw some more dolphins.


It was an interesting day.