Well, we can add the autopilot to the list of items that need replacing on Pelican. Sometime this afternoon, our Autohelm 4000 Wheel Pilot died. Yes, it really did die. It has nothing to do with the fact that I'm looking for an excuse to buy the new Raymarine ST70/X30 autopilot combo. What would a guy want with gadgets, anyway??
We tried sailing again earlier when I went on watch. Unfortunately, as is usual on a delivery trip, the wind was on our nose, so we're motorsailing with the main up to Cape May. We're still looking at an arrival of around midnight. The seas calmed down quite a bit for a while, but now they're building again. The weather report says the winds will die down some, and the waves should too, so I'm expecting gale force winds and waves the size of the Empire State Building!
Dinner tonight was sirloin tips in Heinz gravy over rice, served hot. I've never had anything quite so good! When you're hungry and cold, hot food is incredible. Did I mention that a cold front swung over us today? Temperatures are dropping into the upper 30's tonight, and they are well on their way right now. We're all bundled up but the wind likes to bite at open skin. We knew it would be this way. We're lucky it waited until now.
Our current perfect itinerary has us arriving at Annapolis around midnight on Tuesday morning. I'm guessing things will be somewhere between perfect and less than perfect. The engine is still acting a bit weird with random RPM drops. We looked for water in the filters and didn't see anything, so we're not sure what's going on. It's another one for the list of items to get checked out in Annapolis.
My bed is soaking wet again tonight, even after I used one of God's gifts to men - ducktape - to try to seal off all the openings. We took some rather massive waves over the bow today. So much so, that even some of the caulking on our teak decks is pulling out. I'm guessing that if caulking is coming out, even ducktape might not hold up. It's OK though - since we're going "two people on, two people off" for watch changes, that frees up a couple of bunks so I can sleep somewhere dry.
On that note, I'm signing off for the moment to get a few minutes of shuteye before we get to Cape May. I'm back on again at midnight, and hopefully I won't have any more stories to share with you between now and then.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
A Mid Day Update
What a day. Unfortunately, we left our sick crewmember behind in Manasquan. Getting seasick has more to do with what you ate last night or the position of the moon than being strong. I hope he realizes that. We left Manasquan around 7:30am with a beautiful sunrise ahead of us and the attendant at the gas dock yelling at us - "Are you leaving yet?? We have people waiting to fuel!" Oh well, such is life. We left the harbor being chased by about 50 fishing boats. They rushed to pass us, leaving us to wallow around in their wake. Apparently, the fish were going to be gone if they didn't get out quickly.
We raised sails about 30 minutes after we left. It was blowing about 15-20 from the West, so we were able to actual sail direct to our next waypoint at about 7kts. When I say sailing, I mean sailing. We had our rail down hard, water streaming down the decks and spray blowing across the dodger. It was some of the best sailing I've done! Unfortunately, as happens on most deliveries, the wind starting going farther south and on our nose, so we kept pushing further and further offshore. At this point, the waves started building again and we were pretty far off course, so we dropped our genoa (the forward sail), turned on the motor and started heading in some. That's where we are now.
I'm going up on watch in 5 minutes and will be raising the sails again. Hopefully, we'll hit the Delaware around midnight - just as the current goes to flood. This should allow us to pick up an extra knot or two of speed as we head towards the canal. More later!
We raised sails about 30 minutes after we left. It was blowing about 15-20 from the West, so we were able to actual sail direct to our next waypoint at about 7kts. When I say sailing, I mean sailing. We had our rail down hard, water streaming down the decks and spray blowing across the dodger. It was some of the best sailing I've done! Unfortunately, as happens on most deliveries, the wind starting going farther south and on our nose, so we kept pushing further and further offshore. At this point, the waves started building again and we were pretty far off course, so we dropped our genoa (the forward sail), turned on the motor and started heading in some. That's where we are now.
I'm going up on watch in 5 minutes and will be raising the sails again. Hopefully, we'll hit the Delaware around midnight - just as the current goes to flood. This should allow us to pick up an extra knot or two of speed as we head towards the canal. More later!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
What a ride!
Well, we left Branford a bit late on Friday. We needed to install a new bilge pump, put on a new anchor, load the dinghy on the foredeck, fill the water tanks and provision. I'm an idiot (yeah - I know everyone is going to comment on that one!). We arrived at noon and had to leave by 3 at the latest. Yeah, uh huh. The new anchor couldn't be fastened down, the new bilge pump needed the hoses to be rerouted, the dinghy needed to be pumped out and re-inflated, we had to move the boat to fill the tanks and the grocery store was 5 miles away, which took about 20 minutes to get to.
We finally left at 4pm, which was still pretty impressive. We pretty much ran onto the boat, untied the lines and flew out of our slip. We had been pretty set on going from Branford to Montauk and then, on the open ocean, direct to the Delaware Bay and Cape May. From there we would go up the Delaware, through the C&D Canal, down the Chesapeake and finally get to Annapolis. We would leave on Friday afternoon and arrive in the morning on Monday. The forecasts looked pretty good, until Friday morning. In the morning, they upped the wave height forecast and the wind forecast, so we decided to take the safer "inside route" - Branford to City Island, through Hell Gate, to New York Harbor, out the Ambrose Channel, and then south along the coast to Cape May and beyond. We're glad we made this decision!
The trip to City Island was uneventful. We motored there and arrived around 11:30pm, grabbed an empty random mooring and slept until 5:40am. Actually, we slept until 5am, when someone who shall remain nameless's cell phone alarm started going off. It would ring 4 times, and then repeat in a minute. I was in the V-Berth, and three others were in the main cabin, feet from the phone. Did any of them stir to turn it off?? No! I had to get up from the forward berth, stumble around in the dark until I found it, and turn it off. Everyone made sure to thank me though. Bunch of lazy pieces of.. anyway...
We left City Island around 6am with the current running with us. We actually reached 12 knots (about 13 mph - would you look up the conversions already??) "over land" speed when we passed through Hell Gate. Not bad for a 40 foot sailboat used to moving at around 7mph. Yeah, I know. It's still only 13mph, but on a sailboat it's a big deal! OK OK... I'll move on.
When we reached New York Harbor it was shrouded in dense fog. We couldn't see Lady Liberty or the many boats zipping around the harbor. Fortunately it was Saturday so things were fairly sedate. Passing under the Verazzano Bridge was interesting. We could see the eastern footing, but all we saw of the span was a ghostly outline, even as we were passing directly under it. As we left the "safety" of the harbor, the wind started increasing as did the waves. It didn't take long for us to regularly pass over 8 foot waves. You might not think 8 foot waves are that big, but think of being 6 feet tall and not being able to see over a wall. Now, think of a series of walls, all a few feet from each other and hurdling over them. 8 foot waves are big! The wind increased to 20 knots, and we were regularly taking water over our bow. At one point, one of our crew came up to inform me that some water was entering into the V-Berth. I told him not to worry - I'd deal with it later.
As we rounded Sandy Hook, we put a smidgen (great word, isn't it?) of sail up to stabilize Pelican. It was sometime shortly after this that one of our crew became violently seasick. I mean violently! Every 30 seconds his head was over the side heaving, and the moans escaping from his mouth when he could actually take the opportunity to breathe were, well, not sexy. Imagine drinking an entire bottle of tequila yourself in a short period of time, and then experiencing both the drunken stupor, the nauseous effects of alcohol poisoning AND the hangover, all at the same time, but for 10 hours. Yep - this was our crew member. It wasn't pretty. I was also feeling fairly green, and listening and watching him heaving didn't help.
Life went on like this for quite some time. We never made lunch (I'll share our $550 provisioning list with you another time) and we barely left the cockpit. Going below was out of the question. At times, our bow was up over 40 degrees and would come down with a sickening crunch. Being below while this occurred would, at best, cause some major pain as you floundered around, and, at worst, make you completely seasick. At one point I managed to scarf down a corn muffin. It helped me feel better, but then I ate 3 pieces of salami and I was back to being miserable. We found a few boat "flaws" during the day, including the fact that the bolt we used to secure out new anchor had bent so far out of shape from the pounding of the seas that it was impossible to remove. In addition, our engine started having a few issues, randomly decreasing in RPM's. With our crewmember so sick, all I could think about was that our engine would fail 5 minutes from Manasquan and we wouldn't be able to stop there. In addition, our GPS kept flaking on us every time we needed to make a decision as to where to go.
As we approached Manasquan, NJ we made the excellent decision that we'd taken enough of a pounding, and that our sick crewmember would either die from his seasickness, or shoot himself in his head with a flare gun - whichever came first. Manasquan is an interesting harbor - the entrance to which can only be made through jagged rock jetties separated by 100 feet of water. The rocks looked like the crystals from Superman's Crystal Palace - just not green, more jagged, and much less fragile. We realized that if our engine failed on the way into Manasquan that we'd be in a world of hurt, and then realized that we would need to do something to free the anchor. Two pliers and a lot of strength later, the bolt was free and so was the anchor. I'm still glad we had something securing the anchor - I can just see us pounding through the waves, having the anchor drop off the front and coming to a screeching halt trying to figure out what the heck was going on, while being pummeled by wind and water. I wouldn't have seen us continuing with either the anchor or chain still attached to the boat. "Hey guys, sorry, I tried to pull it on but somehow all 150 feet of chain fell off the boat and I lost the anchor. So sorry."
We arrived in Manasquan, land of 4 knot currents and narrow drawbridges, and managed to tie up to a gas dock at a marina. At this point we were all happy to have safely made it in - none of us more so than our sick crewmember. I went down to my berth to "check things out". Let's see... We have a small vent above the right side of the bed to allow air in. Water had poured through it and drenched that side of the bed. There was a leak on the left side of the bed that left it rather soaked. On top of that, water had entered the chain locker which is at the foot of the bed, drenching the whole bottom of the bed. The only dry spot was dead center! Oh well, at least we made it in. Oh yeah - did I also mention that my duffel bag of clothes was under the small vent? Yep! Cool... it kept a portion of the bed dry by capturing all the water in my clothes.
Anyway, we went out and had a nice dinner (did I mention our $550 provisioning with food stuffed in every locker of the boat?) and then retired early. It's 9pm and I'm hitting the sack. Tomorrow we're going to send our sick crewmember home, and then try for either Atlantic City or Cape May. We'll get to Annapolis yet!
We finally left at 4pm, which was still pretty impressive. We pretty much ran onto the boat, untied the lines and flew out of our slip. We had been pretty set on going from Branford to Montauk and then, on the open ocean, direct to the Delaware Bay and Cape May. From there we would go up the Delaware, through the C&D Canal, down the Chesapeake and finally get to Annapolis. We would leave on Friday afternoon and arrive in the morning on Monday. The forecasts looked pretty good, until Friday morning. In the morning, they upped the wave height forecast and the wind forecast, so we decided to take the safer "inside route" - Branford to City Island, through Hell Gate, to New York Harbor, out the Ambrose Channel, and then south along the coast to Cape May and beyond. We're glad we made this decision!
The trip to City Island was uneventful. We motored there and arrived around 11:30pm, grabbed an empty random mooring and slept until 5:40am. Actually, we slept until 5am, when someone who shall remain nameless's cell phone alarm started going off. It would ring 4 times, and then repeat in a minute. I was in the V-Berth, and three others were in the main cabin, feet from the phone. Did any of them stir to turn it off?? No! I had to get up from the forward berth, stumble around in the dark until I found it, and turn it off. Everyone made sure to thank me though. Bunch of lazy pieces of.. anyway...
We left City Island around 6am with the current running with us. We actually reached 12 knots (about 13 mph - would you look up the conversions already??) "over land" speed when we passed through Hell Gate. Not bad for a 40 foot sailboat used to moving at around 7mph. Yeah, I know. It's still only 13mph, but on a sailboat it's a big deal! OK OK... I'll move on.
When we reached New York Harbor it was shrouded in dense fog. We couldn't see Lady Liberty or the many boats zipping around the harbor. Fortunately it was Saturday so things were fairly sedate. Passing under the Verazzano Bridge was interesting. We could see the eastern footing, but all we saw of the span was a ghostly outline, even as we were passing directly under it. As we left the "safety" of the harbor, the wind started increasing as did the waves. It didn't take long for us to regularly pass over 8 foot waves. You might not think 8 foot waves are that big, but think of being 6 feet tall and not being able to see over a wall. Now, think of a series of walls, all a few feet from each other and hurdling over them. 8 foot waves are big! The wind increased to 20 knots, and we were regularly taking water over our bow. At one point, one of our crew came up to inform me that some water was entering into the V-Berth. I told him not to worry - I'd deal with it later.
As we rounded Sandy Hook, we put a smidgen (great word, isn't it?) of sail up to stabilize Pelican. It was sometime shortly after this that one of our crew became violently seasick. I mean violently! Every 30 seconds his head was over the side heaving, and the moans escaping from his mouth when he could actually take the opportunity to breathe were, well, not sexy. Imagine drinking an entire bottle of tequila yourself in a short period of time, and then experiencing both the drunken stupor, the nauseous effects of alcohol poisoning AND the hangover, all at the same time, but for 10 hours. Yep - this was our crew member. It wasn't pretty. I was also feeling fairly green, and listening and watching him heaving didn't help.
Life went on like this for quite some time. We never made lunch (I'll share our $550 provisioning list with you another time) and we barely left the cockpit. Going below was out of the question. At times, our bow was up over 40 degrees and would come down with a sickening crunch. Being below while this occurred would, at best, cause some major pain as you floundered around, and, at worst, make you completely seasick. At one point I managed to scarf down a corn muffin. It helped me feel better, but then I ate 3 pieces of salami and I was back to being miserable. We found a few boat "flaws" during the day, including the fact that the bolt we used to secure out new anchor had bent so far out of shape from the pounding of the seas that it was impossible to remove. In addition, our engine started having a few issues, randomly decreasing in RPM's. With our crewmember so sick, all I could think about was that our engine would fail 5 minutes from Manasquan and we wouldn't be able to stop there. In addition, our GPS kept flaking on us every time we needed to make a decision as to where to go.
As we approached Manasquan, NJ we made the excellent decision that we'd taken enough of a pounding, and that our sick crewmember would either die from his seasickness, or shoot himself in his head with a flare gun - whichever came first. Manasquan is an interesting harbor - the entrance to which can only be made through jagged rock jetties separated by 100 feet of water. The rocks looked like the crystals from Superman's Crystal Palace - just not green, more jagged, and much less fragile. We realized that if our engine failed on the way into Manasquan that we'd be in a world of hurt, and then realized that we would need to do something to free the anchor. Two pliers and a lot of strength later, the bolt was free and so was the anchor. I'm still glad we had something securing the anchor - I can just see us pounding through the waves, having the anchor drop off the front and coming to a screeching halt trying to figure out what the heck was going on, while being pummeled by wind and water. I wouldn't have seen us continuing with either the anchor or chain still attached to the boat. "Hey guys, sorry, I tried to pull it on but somehow all 150 feet of chain fell off the boat and I lost the anchor. So sorry."
We arrived in Manasquan, land of 4 knot currents and narrow drawbridges, and managed to tie up to a gas dock at a marina. At this point we were all happy to have safely made it in - none of us more so than our sick crewmember. I went down to my berth to "check things out". Let's see... We have a small vent above the right side of the bed to allow air in. Water had poured through it and drenched that side of the bed. There was a leak on the left side of the bed that left it rather soaked. On top of that, water had entered the chain locker which is at the foot of the bed, drenching the whole bottom of the bed. The only dry spot was dead center! Oh well, at least we made it in. Oh yeah - did I also mention that my duffel bag of clothes was under the small vent? Yep! Cool... it kept a portion of the bed dry by capturing all the water in my clothes.
Anyway, we went out and had a nice dinner (did I mention our $550 provisioning with food stuffed in every locker of the boat?) and then retired early. It's 9pm and I'm hitting the sack. Tomorrow we're going to send our sick crewmember home, and then try for either Atlantic City or Cape May. We'll get to Annapolis yet!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Heading to Annapolis
On Friday November 6th (tomorrow) I'm bringing Pelican to Annapolis. We'll be leaving around noon from Branford, CT and going the "outside route". This means that we'll be going east and rounding the tip of Long Island around Montauk, heading direct to the Delaware Bay, around Cape May, up the Delaware River, through the C&D Canal, down the Chesapeake River and ending up in Back Creek in Annapolis. This trip is approximately 362nm (416 regular miles). If we go 5 knots the whole way (5.75mph), and we're hoping to go faster, it will take us slightly over 3 days to arrive in Annapolis. If we can maintain 6 knots, we'll cut 12 hours off of our trip. Amazing what a slight increase in speed will do!
I will be joined by four friends for the trip - Bob (from Willsboro Bay, where we kept our boat for the past two years), Mike (a friend of Bob's), Gene (also from Willsboro Bay) and Cole (from where I work, and I'm pleased to call him a friend). I wouldn't suggest smelling the air on Pelican after 3 days and 5 guys take her on a trip.
Once in Annapolis, the real work of outfitting Pelican for cruising begins. From a generator and air conditioning, to a new dinghy, to a liferaft, autopilot, sail restitching and more, we'll be transforming Pelican into a safe and comfortable home.
I'm sure we'll have a few stories to tell once we're done. The forecast calls for everything from 10-15 to 15-20 to gusts of 25, and seas from 4-6ft to 3-5ft to 2-4ft. If we get 6 foot seas, it's going to be a rollercoaster ride! I'll post again when we arrive in Annapolis.
P.S. I was reminded again today as to why this trip is so important. A good friend of mine had his 17 year old daughter pass away today from severe injuries sustained in a car accident. Life is precious and you don't get to spend enough of it with your family. Live your dream, enjoy your family.
I will be joined by four friends for the trip - Bob (from Willsboro Bay, where we kept our boat for the past two years), Mike (a friend of Bob's), Gene (also from Willsboro Bay) and Cole (from where I work, and I'm pleased to call him a friend). I wouldn't suggest smelling the air on Pelican after 3 days and 5 guys take her on a trip.
Once in Annapolis, the real work of outfitting Pelican for cruising begins. From a generator and air conditioning, to a new dinghy, to a liferaft, autopilot, sail restitching and more, we'll be transforming Pelican into a safe and comfortable home.
I'm sure we'll have a few stories to tell once we're done. The forecast calls for everything from 10-15 to 15-20 to gusts of 25, and seas from 4-6ft to 3-5ft to 2-4ft. If we get 6 foot seas, it's going to be a rollercoaster ride! I'll post again when we arrive in Annapolis.
P.S. I was reminded again today as to why this trip is so important. A good friend of mine had his 17 year old daughter pass away today from severe injuries sustained in a car accident. Life is precious and you don't get to spend enough of it with your family. Live your dream, enjoy your family.
Where are we going?
A number of people have asked us what our plans our. Our primary plan is to have no fixed plan. We've been living life by Outlook Calendars, Blackberry's, meeting schedules, deadlines and more. It's time for us to live day to day as opposed to always having plans. If we wake up in the morning and feel like going somewhere else, we will. Otherwise, "here looks good". It has been said that "Schedules on a boat just don't work. If you have a powerboat, throw away your watch. If you have a sailboat, throw away your calendar."
With that said, we have a few thoughts on the places we would like to visit, and there has to be some order. Apparently I haven't whipped enough people into shape to develop a teleport device. On December 1st we will be heading to Annapolis. Hopefully the work on Pelican will be completed by that point in time. Otherwise, the start to our trip will be very, very cold. Fortunately, we had the forethought when we bought Pelican to have a forced air heater installed. We can get the temperature to over 100 in the cabin if we want to.
Once we're ready to leave Annapolis, we'll head south. North is cold. South is warm. North bad. South good. Because of the fickle weather this time of year, we'll probably stick to the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) for the trip south. It might sound cool, but you can walk faster than a sailboat. We motor along at around 7-8 mph, and motoring is what you do for the most part on the ICW. You have to wait for bridge openings (as long as you want to keep your mast), high tides (as long as you want to keep your boat upright, as opposed to grounding it and then laying on your side until the water shows up again), avoid large power boat wakes (easier said than done when going 7-8 mph) and more. You can't really navigate the ICW in the dark, so it will probably take the better part of two weeks to make it to where the weather is somewhat warmer. Of course, it has been known to snow in Florida, and that would be just our luck!
Once we get to a somewhat warmer clime (i.e. over 60 degrees), we'll probably slow down a bit. We would like to visit parts of the Florida coast, and the kids really want to go to Disney. I really would like to go to the keys to eat all of the seafood and view the sites.
From Florida, we'll eventually jump over to the Bahamas. We expect this to be sometime in January, or maybe February. For this, we have to cross the Gulf Stream. That takes some planning - primarily ensuring that the wind is coming from the right direction so we don't get hammered by huge waves. People can wait anywhere from a couple of days to weeks for a good weather window to cross.
Once we're in the Bahamas, well, I don't know where exactly we'll go yet. We'll do some fishing, some snorkeling, and when we get sick of a place, we'll move. I'm most interested in introducing my kids to a land where supermarkets don't exist, and cows and chickens roam the streets looking for handouts. I don't think this will be in Nassau, so we may go off the beaten path.
By hurricane season (May-ish) we have to be out of the hurricane belt. I don't know if this means that we'll head south to Panama, or whether we'll head north to New England. I'm kind of interested in cruising New England. In the fall, we may do a 9-12 day passage to the Virgin Islands, or we may not. Are you getting the idea? All along the way we'll be homeschooling our kids and meeting new people. That's what I'm looking forward to.
With that said, we have a few thoughts on the places we would like to visit, and there has to be some order. Apparently I haven't whipped enough people into shape to develop a teleport device. On December 1st we will be heading to Annapolis. Hopefully the work on Pelican will be completed by that point in time. Otherwise, the start to our trip will be very, very cold. Fortunately, we had the forethought when we bought Pelican to have a forced air heater installed. We can get the temperature to over 100 in the cabin if we want to.
Once we're ready to leave Annapolis, we'll head south. North is cold. South is warm. North bad. South good. Because of the fickle weather this time of year, we'll probably stick to the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) for the trip south. It might sound cool, but you can walk faster than a sailboat. We motor along at around 7-8 mph, and motoring is what you do for the most part on the ICW. You have to wait for bridge openings (as long as you want to keep your mast), high tides (as long as you want to keep your boat upright, as opposed to grounding it and then laying on your side until the water shows up again), avoid large power boat wakes (easier said than done when going 7-8 mph) and more. You can't really navigate the ICW in the dark, so it will probably take the better part of two weeks to make it to where the weather is somewhat warmer. Of course, it has been known to snow in Florida, and that would be just our luck!
Once we get to a somewhat warmer clime (i.e. over 60 degrees), we'll probably slow down a bit. We would like to visit parts of the Florida coast, and the kids really want to go to Disney. I really would like to go to the keys to eat all of the seafood and view the sites.
From Florida, we'll eventually jump over to the Bahamas. We expect this to be sometime in January, or maybe February. For this, we have to cross the Gulf Stream. That takes some planning - primarily ensuring that the wind is coming from the right direction so we don't get hammered by huge waves. People can wait anywhere from a couple of days to weeks for a good weather window to cross.
Once we're in the Bahamas, well, I don't know where exactly we'll go yet. We'll do some fishing, some snorkeling, and when we get sick of a place, we'll move. I'm most interested in introducing my kids to a land where supermarkets don't exist, and cows and chickens roam the streets looking for handouts. I don't think this will be in Nassau, so we may go off the beaten path.
By hurricane season (May-ish) we have to be out of the hurricane belt. I don't know if this means that we'll head south to Panama, or whether we'll head north to New England. I'm kind of interested in cruising New England. In the fall, we may do a 9-12 day passage to the Virgin Islands, or we may not. Are you getting the idea? All along the way we'll be homeschooling our kids and meeting new people. That's what I'm looking forward to.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
We're Going!
At every point in time in your life you have to make choices. A few weeks ago, we were bringing Pelican from Lake Champlain to Branford, CT to have work done and to store her for the Winter. As we entered New York Harbor with Lady Liberty on our right and The Battery on our left, we were faced with two paths. If we went right, or south, we would be heading toward the open ocean - warm climates, new people and amazing experiences. If we went left, or east, we would be heading up the East River, to the Long Island Sound and to our ultimate destination in Connecticut.
I looked at my wife and jokingly said, "We should head south now. Let's forget buying a bigger boat, waiting a few years and heading south then. Let's go now." She looked at me with a thoughtful expression, and said "I'd give my right leg if we could leave now." I'm not going to say that my wife is wearing a prosthetic at the moment, but we went south figuratively.
We are currently outfitting our boat for a cruise starting on December 1st. This weekend I'm heading to Annapolis from Branford with four friends. Once there, we're having various pieces of equipment installed. In the meantime, we're selling a lot of our "stuff" that has accumulated over the years. It's a tough choice as to what we sell since we plan to be back in 20 months. Everything we don't sell will end up in storage. On December 1st, we'll pack up our personal items, hop in a rental car and move onto our boat.
I can't say our families aren't upset about the quick notice. We're taking 4 weeks to do what other's usually take two years to prepare for. It's turning our lives upside down, but this is a good thing. We get to live a dream. More later...
I looked at my wife and jokingly said, "We should head south now. Let's forget buying a bigger boat, waiting a few years and heading south then. Let's go now." She looked at me with a thoughtful expression, and said "I'd give my right leg if we could leave now." I'm not going to say that my wife is wearing a prosthetic at the moment, but we went south figuratively.
We are currently outfitting our boat for a cruise starting on December 1st. This weekend I'm heading to Annapolis from Branford with four friends. Once there, we're having various pieces of equipment installed. In the meantime, we're selling a lot of our "stuff" that has accumulated over the years. It's a tough choice as to what we sell since we plan to be back in 20 months. Everything we don't sell will end up in storage. On December 1st, we'll pack up our personal items, hop in a rental car and move onto our boat.
I can't say our families aren't upset about the quick notice. We're taking 4 weeks to do what other's usually take two years to prepare for. It's turning our lives upside down, but this is a good thing. We get to live a dream. More later...
Monday, October 16, 2006
Fate, part deux
East Greenbush, NY
Our continuation of the saga of our first boat...
My wife, Kristen, finally gets in touch with a real person at the home insurance company. "We're closed today. We'll have someone contact you tomorrow". Groovy!
We decided to cool off and go to the boat show. We go through the gate, and the first exhibitor is "The Sailboat Shop". They are displaying Precision trailerable sailboats. Their largest at the show, the Precision 23, gleamed white, with a broad blue stripe down the side. High above us, set upon its trailer, I recognize a boat with a pedigree. "It was designed by Jim Taylor," said Steve from The Sailboat Shop. "That's the same guy who designs Sabre's and Americas Cup Boats."
I've been looking at Catalina and Hunter sailboats until now. Nothing against them - they are living rooms that float - just a different kind of boat. They didn't ignite any passion in me. The Precision 23, on the other hand, looked like a real sailor's boat. Did it have an enclosed head? Nope. How about lots of headroom? Nope. But it was beautiful and, as I would find out later, a great boat to sail and learn on. We swarmed all over it! The few pieces of brightwork were a nice touch. There was a huge lazarette, and I fit on the forward v-berth. It had a stove! All the comforts of home. The kids loved it. "Can we get it Dad?" they asked. "We can't afford a boat right now," I reply.
Ring! Ring! Back to reality. It's Kristen's brother. "I'm here with Dad and it's a mess! There's stuff everywhere, and it's over the base of your storage shelves, washer and dryer and lots of other stuff." Nifty. They offer to help clear out the basement and we take them up on it. In the meantime, the cleaning company has showed up and they start pumping out the water.
Some may ask why we didn't head straight home. Well, it's a 7 hour drive at best, and it was noon, so by the time we got home - well, I don't know why we didn't leave right away, but we didn't. The cleaning company and Kristen's father and brother would have to whole basement cleaned out by the time we got home, at that point, so we decided to keep looking around the show.
I keep remembering all of the stuff stored on our storage shelves. Irreplacable family pictures. Instruments. Computer equipment. Heirlooms. Kristen wants to stay at the show so we can keep our minds off the destruction, but I finally decide we have to go home. 8 hours later, we're at home - fans going in the basement, placed by the cleaning company; our belongins piled hapharzadly in our garage; glops of paper and cardboard sealed together like paper mache; boxes dripping like water through a collander. It's not a pretty site. It turns out it wasn't even due to the rain - our washing machine pipe burst.
So here's where fate comes in. Two months later, after working with our insurance company, who turns out to be one of the best home insurers out there (their coverage and interest in helping us was wonderful!) we got a settlement check for the damage. It wasn't small either. One call to The Sailboat Shop and I find out that the boat we inspected in Annapolis was still for sale. And now it's parked in our driveway. So the boat we were standing on as we learned the news about the extent of the damage in our basement turned out to be the very boat we purchased with the funds from the settlement. Funny how life works.
Our continuation of the saga of our first boat...
My wife, Kristen, finally gets in touch with a real person at the home insurance company. "We're closed today. We'll have someone contact you tomorrow". Groovy!
We decided to cool off and go to the boat show. We go through the gate, and the first exhibitor is "The Sailboat Shop". They are displaying Precision trailerable sailboats. Their largest at the show, the Precision 23, gleamed white, with a broad blue stripe down the side. High above us, set upon its trailer, I recognize a boat with a pedigree. "It was designed by Jim Taylor," said Steve from The Sailboat Shop. "That's the same guy who designs Sabre's and Americas Cup Boats."
I've been looking at Catalina and Hunter sailboats until now. Nothing against them - they are living rooms that float - just a different kind of boat. They didn't ignite any passion in me. The Precision 23, on the other hand, looked like a real sailor's boat. Did it have an enclosed head? Nope. How about lots of headroom? Nope. But it was beautiful and, as I would find out later, a great boat to sail and learn on. We swarmed all over it! The few pieces of brightwork were a nice touch. There was a huge lazarette, and I fit on the forward v-berth. It had a stove! All the comforts of home. The kids loved it. "Can we get it Dad?" they asked. "We can't afford a boat right now," I reply.
Ring! Ring! Back to reality. It's Kristen's brother. "I'm here with Dad and it's a mess! There's stuff everywhere, and it's over the base of your storage shelves, washer and dryer and lots of other stuff." Nifty. They offer to help clear out the basement and we take them up on it. In the meantime, the cleaning company has showed up and they start pumping out the water.
Some may ask why we didn't head straight home. Well, it's a 7 hour drive at best, and it was noon, so by the time we got home - well, I don't know why we didn't leave right away, but we didn't. The cleaning company and Kristen's father and brother would have to whole basement cleaned out by the time we got home, at that point, so we decided to keep looking around the show.
I keep remembering all of the stuff stored on our storage shelves. Irreplacable family pictures. Instruments. Computer equipment. Heirlooms. Kristen wants to stay at the show so we can keep our minds off the destruction, but I finally decide we have to go home. 8 hours later, we're at home - fans going in the basement, placed by the cleaning company; our belongins piled hapharzadly in our garage; glops of paper and cardboard sealed together like paper mache; boxes dripping like water through a collander. It's not a pretty site. It turns out it wasn't even due to the rain - our washing machine pipe burst.
So here's where fate comes in. Two months later, after working with our insurance company, who turns out to be one of the best home insurers out there (their coverage and interest in helping us was wonderful!) we got a settlement check for the damage. It wasn't small either. One call to The Sailboat Shop and I find out that the boat we inspected in Annapolis was still for sale. And now it's parked in our driveway. So the boat we were standing on as we learned the news about the extent of the damage in our basement turned out to be the very boat we purchased with the funds from the settlement. Funny how life works.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
It's Funny How Life Works
East Greenbush, NY
Do you believe in fate?
A year ago we're all at the Annapolis boat show. We love that place! It may be crowded, but we're from upstate NY - you never get to see so many sailboats, nor do you get to meet so many people with the same interests! Our kids love to jump from boat to boat, and we love honing in on what boat we're going to purchase for our big trip.
So we're at our hotel on Sunday morning - our second day of the show. It's a windy, rainy day, like so many boat show days tend to be. I'm watching the news and they are talking about the record breaking rain storms occuring in the northeast.
Now, we've never had a problem with the basement of our house before, but I called up one of our neighbors anyway. "Brett - could you go take a look at our house and make sure everything is OK?" He lets us know that he'll look at our house in an hour or so.
We go to the boat show. We're wandering around when Brett calls. "Dude - how did you know??" he says. "What?" I ask. "Your basement is totally flooded. You've got 10 inches of water in it and everything is floating around!"
Now I'm a pessimistic kind of guy. I immediately get upset and frustrated. "We have to go right away!" I say to my wife, Kristen. "Why don't we call the insurance company and have my parents look at the house" she replies.
I'm OK with that. We remember the name of the insurance company. It's Sunday. I try calling them about 10 times, and get hung up on by the automatic system about 11 times! At least that's the way it seemed. A myriad of buttons pushed, dozens of minutes of hold music, and I get hung up on. I swear I'll never do business with this home insurance company again!
I reach Kristen's brother (her parents are nowhere to be found). He'll head down right away. Our neighbor, who had his basement flood before, gives us the name of a place that can pump it, dry it and clean it. I call them up. "We'll be over soon" they say.
We decide to grab some food before we try the insurance company again. I was so frustrated and I needed a break. We had a wonderful brunch, and then I go try to call again. 5 more times, 30 more minutes, nothing. Kristen says "Let me try", so I do. One call, she's on the phone with the company.
I'll post more tomorrow!
Our Plans - The Big Trip
East Greenbush, NYI just realized. I didn't tell you the long and the short of our plans, or as we call it, "The big trip"!
Our final agenda is to, in June of 2009, take our kids out of school and leave for a year long journey along the Eastern coast of the United States. We are currently planning to stage our final boat (one more to go after this Passport 40) out of the Cape Cod area. In June, we'll go north for a couple of months, and then gradually head south. If we make it to Florida, great. If we make it farther, that works too! If it takes a little longer than a year - well, I'm sure we won't be complaining.
So as I place these blog entries online, keep in mind what our final goal is, as that's the reason the tasks we're completing exist.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
The Start
East Greenbush, NY
I have a lot to write here. This will become the story of the Labatt-Simon's journey to accomplish a dream. I know - that sounds cheesy. I can't help it.
I asked my family for a sailboat when I was 13. I got one - it was about 10 inches long and you could inflate it in about 3 seconds (funny family). Two days ago we received word that our offer on our second sailboat - a Passport 40 - was accepted, and thus starts step two of our adventures.
Within this blog I'll go both forward and backward. I'll describe almost the exact moment approximately 2 years ago when I first suggested to my wife (Kristen) that we spend a year cruising. You'll also hear about current news and future plans, such as our trip next week to sea trial our boat, and our trip we'll be taking in a few months to bring our new boat from Annapolis to Lake Champlain.
Anyway, I hope everyone appreciates this blog. I've started it as much for me as for others who are interested in how we've arrived here today, and where we'll be in the future. Oh gawd... more cheese. I'll try to keep it to a minimum!
I'll just start today with some information about our family. I won't start with our first Coast Guard call, or our first "timber" of our mast on our Precision 23 (our first boat), or with running out of gas on the outboard during a thunderstorm! By the way - all of those things happened this season - our first season with our first boat - Anticipation. You'll get to know us pretty well!
So about our family. I'm Chris, just celebrating the 6th anniversary of my 29th birthday. My wife is Kristen, only slightly younger than me. Our son is Casey, 9 going on 10. Our daughter is Kaitlin, 5 going on 16. We live in East Greenbush, NY. I own an information security and computer networking company. My wife works at the local YMCA and takes care of our kids. Our kids? We put them in a dark closet sewing clothes and feed them moldy bread and dirty water. I'm just kidding! Sheesh! They go to Genet Elementary, and are in 5th and 1st grades respectively.
That's all for now. The picture above is of our current/old boat - our wonderful Precision 23 - Anticipation.
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