June 1 & 2, 2018, Days 2 & 3

After a very rejuvenating night’s slumber, we awoke to a day of relatively calm waters, relaxation, decompression and just plain chilling.  Because we were moored with no electrical hookup, we tried to use minimal electrical power to save the charge on the batteries, which means no Keurig coffee making.  I love and hate the Keurig, love it because it’s so easy and convenient to make a single serving cup o’ joe, hate it because the process creates so much one-use plastic waste.  I feel guilty every time I use the Keurig, but not guilty enough to change my ways to save the planet.  This morning, however, saving the batteries was more important than my convenience or the planet, so out came the French press.  The coffee was good and really, the job of cleaning up the French press was not all that inconvenient. Especially when balanced with the thrill of “all in” boat living.

We spent the morning lolly-gagging around, catching our breath from yesterday’s travels, organizing here and there, a little cleaning.  I contemplated taking the dinghy into shore to explore the isles but decided that was way too much effort for the mood I was in.  Our tranquility was soul renewing but short lived. 

Bob started to look at the weather forecast about 1100 hours.  He concluded, “This doesn’t look good.”  Our plan was to stay here on the mooring for another night, go to Portsmouth for two nights, Saturday and Sunday, to spend some time with our niece Rachel and her family, then cruise to Boston on Monday where we have reservations at Constitution Marina for the week of June 4-11.  Bob continued, “Monday’s weather calls for wave heights of six plus feet and periods of six seconds.  There’s no way we can make it to Boston on Monday.  The next decent weather window isn’t until next Thursday.”  We got into action, called Rachel to see if she and her family could squeeze a visit in that evening, called Wentworth Marina in Portsmouth to see if they could accommodate us that night, and called Constitution Marina to see if they could take us for Saturday and Sunday in addition to the week already reserved.   All the pieces fell into place.

Within minutes we dropped the mooring ball with me at the helm and Bob handling the lines.  We were on our way the 7.2 nautical miles (NM) to Wentworth Marina in Portsmouth.  Bob took over the helm as we entered the harbor and expertly glided Velomer into slip B12 stern in.  We visited Rachel, Jeff, and twins Eilana and Amelia briefly that evening enjoying catching up and giving hugs.  We made a quick dinner, cleaned up, and were in bed and asleep by 2100 hours.

At the crack of dawn, Bob jumped out of bed and looked out the stateroom window to see thick fog – not ideal cruising conditions.  Hoping the fog would burn off as the sun came up, he went into the saloon (spelled like a cowboy hangout but pronounced like a place you have your hair cut) to make coffee, using the Keurig.  The first cup brewed just fine (my cup); on the second cup, the Keurig acted like it was possessed spitting out hot water in spits and spurts at the wrong time.  The coffee maker had fallen down during the rough seas on Thursday and obviously sustained fatal injuries.  No amount of cajoling, plugging and unplugging, powering off and powering on could make it work properly.  After sipping the scant cup of coffee, we returned the marina keys, did an engine check, started the engine, unhooked the electric cable, and prepared the dock lines for departure.  Again, I took the helm and Bob handled the dock lines.  Velomer quietly glided out of the slip and into a clearing fog.  The water was a flat calm.  No wind, no waves. 

We left the dock at 0630 hours.  Blue sky was above us with an almost mystical fog surrounding us on the horizontal.  Visibility was about a quarter mile with everything beyond fading into the misty background.  A seal poked its nose through the water’s surface just yards from the bow and greeted us before diving below, its sleek form effortlessly advancing. 

This is not the first time Velomer has run in fog.  I remember the pea soup fog off the New Jersey coast two years before when you couldn’t see 100 yards in front of you and the fog along the North Carolina Intracoastal Waterway.  I find the fog heightens my concentration; all senses are on full alert.  Sight, sound, smell, feel, even taste.  I feel fully alive in the fog.  Radar also helps!

By 0830 hours, the fog lifted and calm seas prevailed.  We had a 54 NM journey to Boston via the Annisquam River that separates Cape Ann from the mainland.  This river has a very narrow navigable channel with multiple twists and turns, so I let Bob take over the helm.  In these situations, having two sets of eyes reading the charts and looking for channel markers is very useful and necessary.  The river flows either into or out of Gloucester Bay depending on the tide.  We came through the river on a rising tide, so we had to battle significant current to enter the bay.  Once out of Gloucester Bay, Boston was a straight run.

The auto pilot remained problematic while underway.  The auto pilot screen kept giving us disturbing messages such as “no auto pilot source data” and “auto pilot has lost GPS signal as speed source.”  We had no idea as to what those messages meant in practical troubleshooting terms.  Did a connection come loose?  In addition, the auto pilot kept making high pitched squealing sounds even in calm waters when adjusting the rudder.  Bob thinks there is air in the hydraulic line causing the squealing.  The auto pilot dash board screen was also very warm to the touch.  We got out the heat indicator gun which registered 131 degrees which confirmed our suspicions.  To make matters worse, every time Bob attempted to bring up data from current stations on our GPS 4212 unit, the unit froze and the only way to restart was to turn the unit off and back on.  Another problem was that our boat icon on the GPS screen appeared 14 to 16 degrees less than our course, such that the icon crabbed along the course line as opposed to straight along the course line.  We found this very frustrating particularly because we just spent outrageous amounts of boat units (one boat unit equals $1,000 US dollars) on a new auto pilot system last season and that the new auto pilot worked just fine last year when we cruised to Boothbay Harbor.

Bob wanted to call Garmin while underway to Boston to get these various issues resolved.  I disagreed.  Our conversation went something like this:

Bob:  “I want to call Garmin and get them to resolve this.  This is ridiculous.  I spent too much money on this to have it not work.”

Me:  “Have you read the manual yet?”

Bob:  “No.  I don’t need to read the manual.”

Me:  “Well, maybe the manual will have a section on troubleshooting that may be helpful.”

Bob:  “I never read the manual.”

Me:  “Do you know where the manual is?”

Bob:  “Down in the stateroom with all the other manuals.”

Me:  “Well the manual is a good place to start so that when we do call Garmin, we’ll be educated enough to know what the technician is talking about.  We need to not only read the manual but study it first before we call Garmin.”

Reluctantly Bob retrieved the auto pilot manual from the stateroom.  We spent the next half hour reading and studying and learned that the auto pilot needs two trials, a dockside trial and a sea trial.  We decided the best thing to do was to repeat the two trials and if that doesn’t resolve the issues then we will call Garmin. 

While we were futzing around with the auto pilot, we received two messages from the AIS (Automatic Identification System) telling us we were on a collision course with two sailing vessels.  When we looked in the direction of these vessels we only saw one sailboat but couldn’t find the second.  AIS is a piece of radio equipment consisting of a transponder that transmits and receives information about water craft.  It is an automatic tracking system used on ships and by vessel traffic services and is the primary method of collision avoidance for water transport.  The visible vessel was named Ghost, a name we had heard about just days prior when we were at MGH with Kath Greenleaf for her final infusion.  We were sitting around with hospital staff chatting about our plans for our stay in Boston at Constitution Marina when one of the staff commented that she has a friend who lives on a sailboat called Ghost at the marina.  Taking a chance that this Ghost was that Ghost, we called the vessel on VHF radio.  Sure enough, it was one and the same.  We made plans to greet each other at the marina this coming week.  As for the second vessel, as we got closer we became aware of a very small sailboat that was unmanned.  Weird! We continued on to Boston.

Boston Harbor is one of the busiest harbors we have encountered.  As we entered the North Channel, we shared the waterway with Northern Justice, a container ship leaving the area.  On our way in to Constitution Marina and in addition to jet planes buzzing overhead on the way in and out of Logan Airport we encountered numerous ferries, a “Shark” boat (that takes tourists out into the harbor at high speed and makes sharp turn to get everyone aboard wet with wake splash), Coast Guard boats, a pilot boat, harbor cruise tour and sail boats, pleasure craft, and sailboats of all sizes.  I don’t quite understand why anyone would take a sailboat into Boston Harbor with all the commercial activity and turbulent wakes, but many sailors do.

As a commercial vessel, this ship commands the right-of-way!

Container ships are huge!

Tour boats cruise the harbor.

Jets buzz in and out of Logan Airport.

Constitution Marina, not surprisingly, is located near the USS Constitution, in Charlestown in the inner most reaches of the harbor.  We radioed the marina for a slip assignment and directions to the slip.  Although we had reservations, the marina was not quite ready for us.  Fortunately, Bob was at the helm when Velomer needed to turn on a dime in a very narrow space which he executed with finesse.  We are now safely docked in slip D11 for the next nine days.

Now our big dilemma:  we still have about 80 Keurig cups and a discombobulated coffee maker.  Do we give away the cups that cost a fortune?  Or, do we buy a new Keurig coffee maker and contribute to the destruction of the planet?  I am totally undecided!