• With temperatures in the mid 70’s, steady breezes from the south, and waters begging for fishing, our day at Boca Chita Key transformed into “Island Time”. Let me explain how “Island Time” works. You wake up in the AM….look at your overstuffed inbox, stare at your ambitious workout schedule, spin thru the many phone calls that you need to respond to….and then walk away. Those demands can wait. Shhh….I didn’t say that. For now, time stands still. Should we go for a leisurely walkabout on the island, or just make “boat talk” with other mariners? Should we make plans for a potluck dinner…or figure out the best fishing hole? Or, should we just play with a hermit crab?
    It doesn’t take much to perk up my curiosity when seashells start walking by themselves. Linda and I discovered a small seashell attempting to run from our path, so we had to get to know this little creature. Meet our new friend Cliff. Cliff, the hermit crab. How did Cliff get his name – you ask? Just as we discovered him, a femme boater, wandered in our path looking for her husband Cliff. Cliff apparently had wandered off. She said she had hubby on a short leash….but he escaped anyway. We think Cliff was trying to hide under this little shell. Of course we said “no”, we hadn’t seen her husband Cliff – as we held him on a large leaf behind our backs.

    It took a bit of time getting to know Cliff. He had one large claw…and hid under his shell any time he saw Linda’s hand whoosh over his eyeballs. After 1/4 mile of walking, with little Cliff….we came to an understanding. If Cliff stopped trying to walk on the palm of our hands….we’ll stop screaming and dropping him to the ground. It seemed to work.

    Now, it was time for Cliff to meet our hubbies, and fellow boaters. We released Cliff on the picnic table in front of our boat. Paddy was the first to meet Cliff and had had never seen a hermit crab before. I’m pretty sure he is excited about this. We proceeded to introduce Cliff to any boater who passed by. Cliff got a LOT of exercise trying to get away from us. There goes another 2 hours. It’s all good. It’s “Island Time”.

    Eventually, the lady who had lost her hubby Cliff….found him. And we released our Cliff back to Boca Chita nature. hmmm….now what should we do? Oh yeah — let’s go fishing!

    3 ladies. One barbie doll fishing pole. And a dingy. Everyone had something to contribute…and nobody had a clue about fishing. I had the pink barbie doll fishing pole, huge work gloves from Home Depot, an official Florida fishing license….and snacks. Linda had a bucket for the fish, the dinghy…an anchor…and knew how to start the outboard motor. Karen had a container filled with live shrimp and crab bait….local knowledge about the best fishing holes….and a makeup kit. We were ready to catch some fish.

    After some debate about what constitutes a “fishing hole” – we agreed to drop anchor in the strong tidal current between Boca Chita Key, and Sands Key. The first challenge, was getting the live bait out of the container. The scene was predictable. The shrimp jumped….we screamed. The shrimp jumped again….we screamed more. Linda suggested we should start with dead bait…and work our way up to the live bait. Karen found a dead shrimp….and we squinted our eyes and looked away – while Karen baited the hook. With a dead shrimp.

    Linda made the first cast. Nothing. Linda cast again….and wowie zow….like magic – a whopper of a fish took the bait. Our dingy was a buzz with excitement….the fish was dangling off of the barbie doll pole….and Karen was busy providing instructions and simultaneously looking for her makeup kit. It’s important to look good for the pictures. Captured on video

    It became obvious that SOMEONE would have to touch the fish. In my view, anyone who knows how to start the dinghy outboard motor…should be the one to handle the fish. So, Linda man’d up….and with the huge Home Depot gloves….she grabbed the fish in one hand….and apologized to it profusely for the next 3 minutes while she attempted to remove the hook. It was quite the spectacle. Karen snapped a picture…I filled the bucket with water….and Linda dropped the fish in the bucket. The fish proceeded to splash and jump wildly. We all screamed….and repositioned ourselves as far as possible from the fish frenzy in the bucket. I grabbed Karen’s life jacket…and placed it over the bucket. At least the fish can’t jump out now.

    It’s now my turn with the fishing pole. Karen baited it for me – with a nice dead shrimp. I cast it into the fishing hole. So I thought. Karen told me I didn’t need to cast it so far. Linda said I was reeling it in to fast. Karen though I should let the bait sink more. Someone wanted me to jerk the line more. Yikes! Suddenly, our dingy was filled with fishing experts…and my days of carefree casting were over. The fish did a good job eating the dead shrimp bait….without getting caught on my hook. So, it was time to hand the pole over to Karen.

    Despite the fact that the fish are biting…AND we had a visual on some VERY LARGE fish below the surface – Karen wanted to relocate to another fishing hole. Okey-dokey. We relocated to another fishing hole….and not a nibble. It was at this moment — that I understood the art of fishing. When you are catching fish….then it’s about the fish. When you’re not catching fish….then it’s about the “fishing stories”. And, we had no shortage of stories.

    As we continued to fish, dish out, or receive instructions, get the hook stuck on rocks, reposition to new fishing holes, gradually work up to using the “live” bait…and peek at our (I mean, Linda’s) miniature trophy fish for the next 2 hours — the only thing that was missing — was catching any more fish. It didn’t matter. We returned to the Boca Chita Key harbor….proudly displaying our ONE fish….and describing for anyone who would listen….the “big one” that got away.

  • A trio of ‘cats (Chateau, MakeItSo and Cat Maudy) left the Dinner Key mooring field early Tuesday morning to capture a sweet westerly breeze. The 2 hour sail south to Boca Chita Key is easy sailing thanks to the flat waters of Biscayne Bay. Big seas on a big ocean are way overrated. Give me flat water sailing on the “BB” any day.

    If you are not making a passage to the Bahamas, then a visit to Boca Chita should be high on the “places to see” list. With spectacular sailing, lazy kayaking, an abundance of fishing opportunities…blazing sunsets…making way to mesmerizing sunrises — this little slice of the National Park System is a treasure accessible only by boat. Lucky for us.

    Anxious to try out my ‘barbie doll’ fishing rod in the brisk currents on the north side of the island – I waded to the sandbar, and began casting. Followed by more casting. And, still more casting. Which pretty well sums up my fishing experience. I’m getting a LOT better at casting, but there is work to do, on the “fish catching” part. Fortunately no one was counting on “fresh catch” for dinner…

    Highlights of the day include:
    -Captain Superwuus muscled Cat Maudy’s main sail to the top without electric tools (watch the video)
    -Captain Superwuus needed a long rest after hoisting the main sail
    -Captain Paddy had a good sail and is in a very good mood (watch the video)
    -Karen on Chateau played footsie with Fire Ants and Captain Larry had to toss her into the harbor to get rid of them
    -Linda released air outta the bottom of their blow-up kayak to make it less “tippy”.
    -Rick’s sinking butt is now works as a kayak keel.
    -Kirby (R&L’s pooch) spent most of the day hiding from the Park Ranger and can’t understand why no dogs are allowed here
    -Soxy, tries not to think about dogs

  • After 6 months of mother nature filling her cheeks and blowing wind from the north with all her mighty might, Mama “N” is finally tapped out. It’s as if a switch has gone off, and she took a moment to look at the calendar. And, just like that – the weather patterns changed. We’ve waltzed into spring and the air is suddenly filled with heat, humidity and light breezes from the south. The fish have returned to the BB, the water temperatures are rising and it’s almost time to bring on the bikini. Well…let’s not get carried away.
    The pleasantries of Florida are changing too. Perhaps this has something to do with the 2010 census, but the state of Florida is desperate to up it’s population count. If you are in the Florida vicinity for more than 90 days as a boater, Florida considers you a “quasi resident” and will assess you a special “welcome to Florida” tax. Plus, you’ll be included in the Florida census rolls. Never mind that Florida is not your “home”.

    Paddy and I discovered these Florida features firsthand while on shore, as we played “dodge the census men”. While we’ve enjoyed twirling on our mooring ball at the Dinner Key Marina for the last 60 days – we’re not ready to make hurricane alley our home port. And surely, I could never call “Miami Dade” HOME – considering the lack of community swimming pools. Just as I was about to explain the swimming pool shortage issue to the Census Men….Paddy stepped in, grabbed my arm, and explained to the boys we had to be on our way.

    Sigh. I thought they should know.
  • While waiting for Paddy to locate “stuff” at the West Marine boat store…I wandered aimlessly, and ended up in the fishing pole section. Dozens of macho brown and grey colored expensive fishing poles are on display. A large chain lashes them together, and locks them securely to the store. Behind the maze of pricey poles, “Lady Fisher” catches my eye.

    She is a beauty. Long lean lines of white and pink…with a stunning rose colored CASTING reel. I imagined the long “Whhiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrr…..” sounds of my first cast. She is lightweight….and comes with 14 pounds of test line. 14 pounds seems like a plenty large fish to me. Plus, this pole is not locked to the store. Translation…affordable? No doubt this barbie doll “Lady Fisher” is calling my name.

    “Paddy…look…it’s a pink fishing pole that casts too….what do you think?” I felt like a kid in a candy store who found what she wanted. Let the annoying sales pitch begin. Paddy rolled his eyes….and had no choice but to agree that this fishing pole is meant for me. “Don’t you think we need a pink lure to go with it?” I suggested. What fish could resist pink?

    It didn’t matter that our bike transportation wasn’t ideal for carrying a fishing pole. We pedaled through the busy streets of Coconut Grove, while I held my new BB doll fishing pole …nearly blinding a pedestrian….taking out low lying branches in trees….and being granted a surprisingly wide birth by passing cars.

    Paddy is not entirely on board with my fishing plans. Neither of us are interesting in handling a flopping fish…and all of the gory details associated with prepping it for the frying pan. Such details for another day. What are the chances I would actually catch a fish?

    We affixed a lure….and my Barbie Doll fishing pole is ready for takeoff. My first cast went pretty well….and I reeled in a bunch of sea grasses. Something went wrong during my second cast….and the line wadded and twisted into a huge gnarly mess. It took over an hour to free the reel from the wad of fishing line….and save my lure. Still, it wasn’t looking good. No matter what I did….a wad of twisted line insisted on forming. Eventually discovered it wasn’t necessary to cast the line as if I’m trying to whallop a tennis ball. Much less energy is required. Plus, by keeping your thumb on the line at all times, the line stops wadding up.

    Cast after cast was working well. “Whhiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrr…..click” Love that sound from the reel – as the line casts over the water. By now, I no longer hooked our rigging, or my clothing. Yet, Paddy and Soxy play it safe – and watch from inside the salon.

    I am very happy casting with my pink BB Doll….and catching sea grasses. But, there is more action underneath the surface. Suddenly, my BB Doll pole bent and came alive. Not a lot of bend mind you…. But, there is a fight going on….not a lot, mind you… but there is a tug of war….and Barbie Doll is awash in excitement. I hoist my first fish as it twists and flips wildly. “Paddy….I caught a fish….come and see….what do I do now?”

    We decide it’s a small barracuda. “I don’t know…it’s your fish”…Paddy responds. “Well….I’m not going to touch it….can’t you help me?” I beg. “No.”

    I stand on the bow of Cat Maudy….trying to decide my next move. Maybe he’ll fall off the hook and go back to swimming with his friends… Or maybe he’ll die while I have him dangling in the air just a few feet away from Cat Maudy. Soxy our cat can eat him for breakfast. Gross.

    The little ‘cuda looks thirsty….so I let out the line and plunk him back in the water for a drink. “You’re torturing him”…Paddy yells to me. Aii….neither of us want to touch the little beast. I hadn’t planned on catching anything quite so soon. Finally, Paddy relents…and unhooks the ‘cuda from the lure…and sets him free.

    Looks like I have to work up to fishing….the fish handling part. I put away BB Doll temporarily….until I get some gloves. Pink gloves of course.
  • Biscayne Bay (BB)

    I often wonder if the “roaring 40’s” — a latitude of 40-50 degrees with huge winds in the Southern Ocean — have migrated north. To Miami. There is no shortage of wind in northern Biscayne Bay. We spent two days peering at the wind gauge – and monitored steady 35 knots (40MPH), and gusts to 40+ knots. The water shuttle service shuts down when the winds blow over 30 knots. Unable to get to shore, this gives us plenty of time to:

    * catch up on computer work projects
    * eat foods we would normally leave untouched in the pantry

    * fix the port engine…that wasn’t previously broken….until Paddy decided to fix it
    * fix the dingy engine. this one is definitely broken.
    * see our first manatee (which looks like a floating sand dune)
    * watch boaters make dramatic arrivals in high winds into the mooring field or nearby anchorage

    Attempting to grab a mooring (or anchor) in super high winds, is a bit of a challenge. A motor yacht circles 20 or more mooring balls before he decides to “go for one”. As he approaches the mooring ball…his first mate reaches out with their ONE AND ONLY boat hook to grab the mooring line….only to get the hook caught in the line. The boat hook is ripped out of her hands…and sinks.

    VHF channel 68 is a buzz, with neighboring boaters offering up a boat hook for this new arrival to borrow. The captain has enough trouble getting close to the mooring ball. He decides NOT to get close to another vessel to borrow a boat hook. Again and again, the motor yacht makes his approach….and each time, a mega gust of wind blows him further away. His first mate is trying to catch the line with her hands – since their one and only boat hook has sunk. It’s not looking good. I’m busy providing telepathic support. “C’mon, you can do it….grab that mooring ball….c’mon c’mon c’mon” As I scan the mooring field with my binoculars – other boaters appear to be offering telepathic support as well. We all have our binoculars on this drama. After an hour of missing the mooring ball, finally, the wind cooperates for a split second — allowing the Captain to get close. The first mate grabs the mooring line and holds on tight. I’m exhausted just watching them.

    But wait…there’s more. A big monohull has decided to take a shortcut across the anchorage. It’s either low tide, or the captain forgot to check his charts. The anchorage can be very shallow – and sure enough, his keel hit bottom. Hard. He’s now heeled over. Waaay over. Nearly on his side. All in heavy winds. TowBoat US to the rescue. Three hours later, with two tow boats on the scene…he is towed to a mooring ball. We assume he damaged his prop – since he could no longer operate under power.

    Just behind the mooring field, is an anchorage with 20-30 boats that have seen “better days”. Despite how hard and long the wind blows, the boats at the anchorage never seem to “drag anchor”. They hold their position, as if they are permanently moored. Um….that’s because they ARE!

    Our friends Karen & Larry arrived on Chateau sur la Mer. The winds are gusty. As Captain Larry searched for good spot to anchor, the winds had other plans. Before he knew it, his prop got entangled in an anchored boat’s line. Chateau is down an engine…and has become “one” with the anchored boat. Within minutes, dinghies and captains from other boats arrive on the scene – including Captain Paddy on our dinghy with the broken engine. Our dinghy engine dies out every 20 seconds. This should be helpful.

    Chateau didn’t just choose any ol’ boat in the anchorage to bond with. It’s owner is not aboard. This particular boat has a spider web of 5-10 anchors out. No wonder these anchored boats don’t drag anchor. If one anchor loses grip….there are a half dozen more anchors to keep on holding.

    It’s heartwarming to see so many boaters offering to assist – at their own personal risk. But, too many “captains” is not necessarily a good thing. I’m not sure who is running the “show”, but from a distance, it looks like chaos. Captain Larry slips into a wetsuit….and dives under Chateau to assess the situation. No one seems to be watching the diver. Except me….on binoculars. This is now my job – and I don’t take my eyes off of him. Larry dives….and dives…and dives…to no avail. The line is wrapped too tight around his prop. It needs to get cut free. The water is cold…and Larry hops back aboard.

    Captain Juan – on one of the dinghies….is poised and ready. He takes over the diving…and after 30 or so dives…comes to the same conclusion. The anchor line needs to get cut free. The owner is reached via cell phone. He insists that another anchor gets added to his spider web of existing 5-10 anchors. Captain Larry and his team of dinghy captains obliges. The troublesome anchor line is cut….a new anchor is dropped…and Chateau limps away from the monohull and its spider web of anchors.

  • After studying the weather for hours, we came to the conclusion that it was anybody’s guess. All week, the forecast for each day couldn’t be further from accurate. We assumed when the forecast called for light air….then it would probably be a nice windy day to sail to Key Largo. Key Largo is 35 miles from Dinner Key Marina – an easy sail down Biscayne Bay – to Angel Fish Creek….and then out to Hawks Channel on the “outside”.

    Naturally, the forecast is right-on for the day we choose to sail. Light air it is. Very light. You could say no wind. There was no wake behind Cat Maudy as she did her best to cruise at 2 knots. All of the other sailboats passed us. That’s because they had their motor running. Not Cat Maudy. She is bound and determined to sail without the sounds of her engines.

    At this speed, it took the bulk of the day to sail 17 miles, far short of our destination at Key Largo. But all was not lost. Our mooring neighbor Tom had invited us to join him for a sailing / fishing excursion at Sands Key. Sands Key is halfway between Dinner Key and Key Largo — and Cat Maudy wasn’t going any further under sail. We navigated around the shoal, and entered into some very shallow waters – until we reached the anchorage. I dropped the anchor and let out 40′ of chain rode. All the while, in awe that not only could I see the anchor, but all 40′ of chain just laying on the bottom of the bay. Back at our home port in Baltimore – there is no visibility (thanks to pollution and muck)…so it is pretty spectacular being in clear water.

    I could have easily just stared at the anchor and chain on the floor of the BB, but Paddy was fussing that we needed to secure the “bridle”. The bridle is used to take the stress off of the chain – and distribute the load between the hulls. Paddy and I spent the next 30 minutes trying to figure out how to untangle the bridle…and connect it to the anchor. It appears we have forgotten how to anchor. One too many days at a mooring ball.

    The evening was quiet, with barely a ripple on the Bay. We would plan to rendezvous with Captain Tom the next morning- to learn the many tricks he had up his sleeve on catching fish. In the meantime, we relaxed in the solitude of the Sands Key anchorage with 5-6 other anchored boats.

    The weather for our fishing adventure was expected to become volatile. Early AM would be calm…but by mid-day, gale force winds would roar from the southwest….later turning to the west…and then becoming northwest. Part of this forecast would prove to be correct.

    As the winds kicked up by 9AM….two of our boat neighbors dragged anchor. We double checked our anchor and it seemed secure. I gloated. Remind me never to gloat. “Yeah…we have a kick ass anchor…we don’t drag”….that kind of gloat. Tom’s boat had dragged 200 yards away from us toward the shoal. A Beneteau had dragged anchor and landed on the shoal. Tom was on rescue mode in his dinghy – and he pulled the monohull off of the shoal into deeper waters. By the time we arrived in our dinghy to assist — both boats were secured.

    Time to go fishing! Well, we watched Tom as he fished. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself with my special trolling rod. Tom uses a “casting rod”. Someday I’ll get one of those. Paddy and I rowed our dingy toward’s Tom. We tried to be very “quiet” (i.e. no engine)….as we closed in on Tom’s fishing hole. The winds were getting fiesty, so Paddy and I had to apply some muscle into rowing. All of a sudden…my oar broke in half! For a moment, I wanted to believe that I may have to tone down my upper bod workouts? But no, that wasn’t it. The oar had rotted out.

    With 1 and 1/2 oars, we made it to Tom’s location, and tied our dinghies together. We drifted into the mangroves. I was ready to film the entire adventure…from Tom catching a monster barracuda…to the blood letting. But, the fish were not interested in any lure that Tom tossed at them.

    By now, the winds had kicked up to that magic velocity that results in you getting soaked in the dinghy. We tried to stay close to shore….until the last moment and then make a beeline for Cat Maudy – but it didn’t matter. We were already drenched, and the waves were getting bigger. We hopped onto Cat Maudy…just in time. The winds are starting to howl.

    Cat Maudy is making an unusual groaning noise. It was hard to hear above the howling wind…but there was no mistaking the groan. “We’re dragging anchor!”…Paddy yells… I go forward to check it out. Yup…there is a huge “drag line” mark made on the bottom of the Bay (since you can see everything!). We are dragging. OK…I promise never to gloat about our kick ass anchor again.

    Maybe we should find an anchorage with better protection from wind? Then again, protected anchorages don’t exist on Biscayne Bay. Especially when the wind is clocking nearly full circle at gale force. We consider a sail back to Dinner Key. Gale force southerlies…we should be back to the mooring field no time. We decide to do “something” other than dragging anchor at this unprotected anchorage…

    Time to pull up the anchor. I admit, it is far easier to pull up anchor in light air…than heavy. There is soooo much pressure on the chain…We had to be careful not to overly stress the windlass. With Paddy navigating, and me providing useless information about where I thought the anchor was in relation to the front of the boat….we somehow managed to raise the anchor without destroying any electronics.

    Now…we are heading directly INTO the gale force winds from the southwest…and slowly departing Sands Key. We are making a whopping 3 knots of way with the force of the wind on our nose.

    I whip out the binoculars. “Paddy, do you think it’s a problem that we can no longer see the Miami skyline, or Key Biscayne?” Very dark clouds had now moved in. I’m guessing heavy rains to our north have limited the visibility to normally pronounced skylines. But which way is the storm moving? If the storms are moving north (and away from us), then we will miss the storms. If the storms are moving south, then we will be sitting ducks in a narrow channel on the wide open Biscayne Bay when they hit.

    Aiii. Cat Maudy reverses course…I guess we’ll go back to the unprotected anchorage -and try to set the anchor before the massive storms move in. We return to Sands Key…and this time, we put out 80′ of chain rode. Double our previous length. We connect the bridle in 2 minutes. It seem our “anchoring” skills have returned. Nothing quite like a bit of stress to put your skills into high gear.

    Next, we race to lash down the sail – and tie up any loose ends. The sky is becoming black…and the wispy low lying clouds are getting closer. Paddy uses our nav software to draw a “gps circle” around our boat. This way, if we start dragging anchor again – all sorts of alerts and warnings will ring loudly.

    The storms get close…we are already dragging anchor again. I’m in “beg mode” now. C’mon Ms. Buegel german-made anchor…hang on to the sandy surface OK? Puullllesssseee….” And after dragging 10 feet…she held tight. Thirty minutes later….the winds subsided. A gigantic rainbow rose to the east, and a stunning bright red sun, set to the west. The storm was over.

    Or, so we thought. By 8PM the winds were intensifying from the west, and by 9PM the winds howled so loud, you had to shout to be heard in the cockpit. Every weather forecast I checked on the computer, was not looking good. It seems like the weather folks got one right. It will blow into the 40 knot range tonight. We can only hope for the best, that our anchor holds. Paddy and I work out a “watch schedule”. I have insomnia, so this concept is a bit silly. But, it is important to keep Paddy happy, so I go along with the schedule. By 2AM, Paddy takes a walk around the deck to check the bridle…and comes back with BIG eyes. “We’ve got a problem”.

    He and I put on our nifty strap-around-the-forehead-headlamps, and race to the port cleat. The wind hits us smack in the face, and I have to find something to grab onto – to avoid being blown off the boat. The temperatures are in the 40s and my butt is quivvering.

    Holy moley. The bridle is holding on by a hair. It is nearly off the cleat. Paddy wants to fix it “properly” by starting up the motors….and inching forward until the pressure if off the bridle….and then I can re-wrap and secure the bridle back onto the cleat. I prefer the “we don’t have time” for perfection solution. So, I suggest that we wrap another line through the loop in the bridle….and secure the second line to the cleat. There was no time to debate. We couldn’t lose the bridle…. Within a minute, we had the 2nd line wrapped around the noose of the bridle, and the new line is “locked down”.

    With the winds intensifying, Paddy wants to prep the 2nd anchor. If the first anchor starts dragging in the middle of the night with these winds….we won’t have much time to react. We dig out the second anchor, tie it onto a massively huge line….secure it to the boat…and plunk her in the water. We return to the salon and hope for the best. Paddy suggests I get some sleep. Yeah right. I listen to the howling winds for the next 8 hours, and re-check our “position” every 15 minutes…. I don’t need any electronics or weather predictions to tell me how much the wind is blowing. I know the wind intensity by feel and sound. By 11AM Sunday….the winds subside. With 2 anchors down, Cat Maudy held her position. Whew.
  • Our Dinner Key mooring ball neighbor Tom stopped by today on his dinghy. Earlier in the week, Tom had shared his ‘fresh catch’ with us – a bag filled with raw fish fillets. I cooked it with a lemon herb rub, and we had it for breakfast. Hard to believe this is “fish”. Hands down it’s the most delicious meat I have ever tasted. It had no fishy smell, no fishy taste, firm, white dense meat – and Tom had done a fab job removing all the bones. We made quick work of polishing off this tasty treat. Any disappointment with my sport fishing debut (using a trolling rod) at Boca Chita Key was becoming a distant memory.

    “Tom – that fish you gave us was the best fish we’ve ever tasted….what kind of fish was it?” I inquired as Tom pulled up his dinghy next to Cat Maudy. “Baby barracuda…before they become big and poisonous. I catch them when they are less than 4 feet…” Tom explains. I did my darnedest to get past the part where the fish might be poisonous. Time for a quick body scan. Nope, no numbness has set into the limbs…the heart seems to be pumping…and forgetfulness is alive and well. We continue to listen on to Tom’s fishing story.

    WARNING: The story you are about to read is gruesome. Unless you are a fisherman.

    OK…If you must continue reading….then allow me to paraphrase…

    After Paddy and I departed from Boca Chita Key, Tom went out on his dinghy with a real fishing pole (i.e. a “casting rod”). After experimenting with 10 lures – he found one the fish liked. He played a cat-n-mouse game with the fish. If the lure just moved along at a steady pace – the underwater world ignored it. Instead, he’s got the lure hoppin, skippin and jumpin – above and thru the water….and BAM…a barracuda strikes. It’s just the right size barracuda per Tom’s magic eye measuring stick. Tom gaffs the ‘cuda – so that he can bring it into the dinghy. Once the gaffed ‘cuda is on board….Tom opens up his 5 gallon bucket partially filled with water…..and then slits the throat of the ‘cuda….stuffs him in the bucket…puts the lid on, so the beast can bleed to death while he is flailing about. This way, all of the blood bleeds out of the fish while he is alive or nearly dead….and then there is less chance for poison stuff from the blood to mix in with the fillet. Or some reasoning like that. When Tom returns to shore…the fish is fully “drained”….and ready to be sliced and diced for the frying pan. I didn’t ask what happened to the bucket of bloody water.

    Eeeeewwwwww. Is this what fishing is about? This does not sound appealing. Tom is almost as excited about fishing, as he is sailing. He and Paddy are discussing future sailing plans on Biscayne Bay – to even better fishing territory. Tom wants to show us the best fishing on the BB – somewhere in the mangroves. I’m already feeling queasy. Maybe I’ll just stick with my trolling rod….with over sized hooks…and no bait. We can watch Tom fish, and let him do the bloody execution ritual. I’ll be happy to just cook any extras he can’t use.

  • No visit to Miami would be complete without spending a few hours in South Beach. Paddy left me in charge with figuring out the transportation route and scheduling. “Great – let’s ride our bikes 30 miles to South Beach and back.” I suggested. Paddy gives me a blank-look “what are you out of your mind?” stare. This means NO. So, I revise the travels to include a combination of water taxi, bicycle ride, metro rail, metromover…and bus.

    Fortunately, the Miami public transportation website includes a color coded map….and I zoom in at 500% for the severely vision impaired. I do my best to follow the squiggly lines with a paperclip pointer on my screen, to no avail. Maybe you can figure out where to take a bus to South Beach using this map? I have a theory on how this map was created….

    It’s career day “at the office”. This is the day where mom or dad brings in one of their kids to expose them to their job and office buddies. The guy in charge of Miami public transportation brings in Suzie, his 4 year old daughter with her box of 64 bright colored crayons. She is busy making daddy a picture…when daddy’s boss shows up to pick up the latest map showing bus and metro rail routes. He picks up little Suzie’s drawing by mistake, and publishes this to the Miami Dade website. No one notices the difference.

    I did my best to figure out Suzie’s map….and concluded (incorrectly) that we needed to ride the rail to the Civic Center stop. From here, we could catch the “M” bus to South Beach. This would turn out to be the “scenic” route. Paddy is decked out in his finest fashions with a bright orange T-shirt (now there’s a first) and orange checkered shorts. As we waited in the not-so-nice section of the Civic Center for 45 minutes for the next “M” bus – this gave us plenty of time to spend with the panhandlers. With Paddy’s colorful outfit screaming “TOURIST” – we had no shortage of panhandling friends. Finally, the “M” bus arrives….and we are none to happy to hop aboard.

    It “feels” like the “M” bus is headed in the wrong direction. Paddy whips out his James Bond phone with the GPS locator…and sure enough – we are not traveling toward South Beach. Paddy and I try to hush-hush our concern…but basically everyone on the bus knows we are lost tourists – and they either stare at us…or offer help by repeatedly pointing in multiple directions. It was a miracle, that the bus finally turned to cross the “causeway”….and head toward South Beach We’re back on course.

    We don’t know exactly “where” to get off the bus. Paddy spots a restaurant called “Big Pink”. This seems close enough. We jumped off the bus…and made a beeline toward the beach. I suddenly feel (a) OLD and (b) OVERDRESSED. I’ll feel better once we find FOOD. We leave the beachfront…and return to Ocean Drive. 5 blocks later, we are at the “Strip”….and Paddy’s orange fashion choice fit right in.

    The “Strip” in South Beach is filled with tourists from every country….overdressed (like moi)…to scantily dressed, and cars ranging from Ferrari’s to vintage Buicks. Every maître d’ wants you to dine at their restaurant, and the size of the drink seems to be a big attraction. Across the street you will find inline skating has not lost it’s thrill. Just beyond the over sized walkway, are a series of beach volleyball courts. You have to have some pretty decent volleyball skills to play here. Spectators gathered to watch 6 guys (aka Team Speedo) convert volleyball in to a mix of soccer and dodge ball….and a few courts away…4 ladies playing what appeared to be professional beach volleyball. They never missed!
    Despite dozens of restaurants featuring fresh seafood and beautiful salads….we opted for cheap burgers and fries…at Johnny Rockets. Yum. And, no lectures about my diet choice OK? We spent the next hour getting our groove on at South Beach. People watching. My favorite moment? An old man, in his mid 80’s sits in a wheelchair. He can barely hold his head up. His wheelchair is parked along a busy sidewalk. He’s no dummy. He picked this location for a reason. 10 feet away, a vibrant young lady, barely dressed in a red bikini 3 sizes too small…pole dances. Rock on old man. Get what you can. I doubt this therapy is covered under Medicare.
  • If paradise resembles anything like Gilligan’s Island, I’m pretty sure we found it. Boca Chita Key is just 15 miles south of downtown Miami. It is also part of the northern Florida Keys — a 180 mile expanse of submerged coral reefs and islands. If you want to drive your car thru the Keys, you’ll start at Key Largo…and end up in Key West. I’m guessing you find stores, tiki-huts and peeps. To visit the northern keys – you’ll need a boat. No stores…no peeps…no Hollywood entertainment…no Starbucks….just pristine waters, remote sandy beaches, friendly boaters who look out for each other. And….some amazing fishing. So I’m told.

    With winds blowing from the North (I don’t think winter is planning to quit until June!) – we quickly cruised down Biscayne Bay…past Key Biscayne, Stiltsville…to our destination at the harbor of Boca Chita Key. The waters are a beautiful turquoise blue….clear and shallow. You can easily see bottom. It’s a bit nerve wracking navigating through the shallow channel, thinking that you would hit bottom at any time.

    We tied up Cat Maudy along the sea wall, and spent the next hour just staring at the views from our boat. To the west, is Biscayne Bay – and in the distant horizon is mainland Florida. A forest fire is raging right next to Florida’s nuclear power plant. Ok, maybe this view wasn’t so pleasant. I trust the Florida forest rangers will get that burning mess under control, before it reaches the nuclear reactor. Looking north, is a lighthouse marking the entrance to Boca Chita Key, and behind it, is a faintly visible Miami skyline. To the east….are palm trees, white sandy beaches….and every shade of blue water you can imagine. There is no surf from the Atlantic side of the island. Any wave action is broken up by the miles of coral reef.

    Paddy and I ventured on a walk around the island. The walk should take all of 10 minutes- but we had our cameras. This means, our walk will take the remainder of the day. At least, until we use up all of the storage space in our digital cameras. There are so many beautiful scenes here — that just when you think you have discovered the most picturesque….a view even more magical stares you straight in the eyes.
    Between Boca Chita Key…and it’s neighboring island to the north, the current rips during flood or ebb tides. According to fellow boaters – the channel of water that moves with the most velocity – is where you can find the best fishing. That’s all I needed to hear. I have visions of catching fish for dinner.

    With my Florida fishing license, a fishing pole, some smelly chicken from the back of the fridge, a hook large enough to catch a killer whale, and my bicycle gloves – I was ready to make the big catch. OK. I don’t really have the “correct” gear — but it’s amazing how versatile bicycle gloves can be.

    I armed my 3 pronged mega hook with 3 stinky pieces of chicken, and tried hard to remember the days when I was 10 years old and fishing with my dad. I think dad always baited the hook for me, but I can’t be sure. These hooks are pretty sharp, and I don’t think that bicycle gloves with missing fingertips is such a good idea. But it will have to do. I stepped into the water…and for 10 seconds stopped breathing. My feet went numb. This water is FREEZING!!! I needed to catch a fish…fast! I made my way to the sandbar, just shy of the strong currents, with numbness now reaching my knees. From here, I can cast the three pronged hook into the rippling current – and hope that a big fish was hungry for aged chicken.

    “Back up Paddy”, I yelled to Pat who was standing on shore. I prepare my windup, whip back the rod….fling the line forward….and watched the hook drop 3 feet in front of me. “I think this pole is defective” – I yelled back to Pat. “Jane, I’ve been trying to tell you, this is a TROLLING rod…not a casting rod.”. Hard to imaging that someone would design a fishing rod where you couldn’t cast out the line. I had to keep trying. A few more casts….with my trolling rod….losing more chicken bait on each fling….I had to agree. There is no casting with this rod.

    As I trudged back to shore, with lower extremities turning blue, there was not a stitch of bait left on my triple hook. What’s up with a fishing pole that isn’t meant for casting? No question, I was disappointed that my trolling rod can’t cast.

    In the meantime — Paddy was busy saving my sport fishing debut. Along the sandy beach, mixed in among the thousands of seashells…Paddy discovered Freddy….the fossilized fish. Freddy has human looking teeth….and a bony bod that was as hard as rock, and has probably been dead for years. Thanks Paddy! Fossilized Freddy the Fish….will serve as my photo-op catch of the day. Not quite as exciting as a fish struggling to get unhooked from your line, and the thrill of reeling it in…but Fossil Freddy will do in a pinch. I returned Freddy back to the seashell covered beach….and began scheming plans to troll off Cat Maudy – using my TROLLING rod. Who knew such details?

  • After staring at our computers, and each other for most of the morning – it was time to tackle a large dose of humanity – at the 47th annual Coconut Grove Arts Festival (CGAF). With the winds gusting to 30knots from the southwest – a soggy dinghy ride with 3 foot waves was out of the question. We will wait for the once per hour, water taxi shuttle to shore.

    The water taxi rides are a perfect way to get the lowdown on weather windows, cruiser stories, and seeing who clocked the most winds in the near hurricane that ripped through the marina the night before. I had clocked just over 60MPH….but two sets of cruisers insisted that another burst of wind ripped through the marina hours later at over 70MPH. With each cruiser we spoke with….the windspeed increased by 5-10MPH. Pretty soon, someone will have recorded a Cat 5 hurricane. Cruisers…have a lot in common with fishermen.

    Our marina is located at the heart of the Coconut Grove Arts festival. The roads to and from the Dinner Key Marina are barricaded — funneling all human traffic into a ticket booth. It didn’t matter if you had no intention of visiting the Festival….if you wanted to cross the street to get to the other side…you must pay the admission. In the spirit of supporting starving artists….we paid for two tickets….and gingerly stepped into a gulf stream of humans.

    As we lost all comfort of personal space….Paddy and I plodded with the herd of peeps. Walking is out the question.  We stopped when the peeps stopped….waited for them to adjust their baby carriages….watch them become confused…..or suddenly change direction when a peep realized their significant other (whom they were having a conversation), was a stranger. It was easy to get separated and lost – and there is no chance of hearing a cell phone ring with the drone of 150,000 humans. Paddy and I tried drafting…where I lead and he follows only inches behind me….keeping a precise cadence with my footsteps. This works well for inline skating…not so well at the arts festival. Too many peeps….and I thought for a moment that I was holding someone elses hand.   Fortunately, Paddy’s fashion choice from his wardrobe of 30+ BRIGHT ORANGE Orioles shirts (courtesy of one too many free-t-shirt nights at Camden Yards with my brother)…came in handy. today.  

    After walking past a mere 15 artist booths (out of many hundreds!)…it was time to locate FOOD. There were dozens and dozens of food tents specializing in Pizza, Greek, Chinese, American, Cuban….and on and on. With so many food choices, Paddy and I opted for the tent with the shortest line….and shared an overpriced Cuban sandwich. We skipped the $4 soda. We’ve morphed into cruiser mentality…..which is somewhere between cheapskate and freeloader.

    Our next stop – is the Culinary Tent. Every hour, a distinguished chef prepares some delicacy…tells you all the details how the food is prepared…..and then a group of lovely ladies walk around and serve you samples. We found 2 chairs….and parked our butts for what could become the remainder of the day. Oh sure, there are some terrific artists from all over the world just a few steps away….and OK…maybe we’ve only seen 15 or so…..but in the Culinary Tent – we’re talking free food.

    You know that feeling you get when suddenly you are in the right place at the right time? You couldn’t have planned it had you tried….but when you stumble upon it — you practically want to go play the lottery — or at least brag to your best friend?

    Try to contain yourself, when I tell you — that within minutes…Jeff Lindsay – the writer behind Showtime’s series DEXTER (the friendly serial killer – who only kills the bad guys making it all OK…OK?)….was featuring Blood Oranges, some fennel thing and how to use knives. I can feel your envy, so try to settle it down. YES YES YES….we are BIG FANS of the series Dexter.  Don’t ask how we watch this without TV on our boat.  All right, you can ask.  We download it from the Internet for FREE.   What else would you expect from a cruiser? 

    Jeff reveals during his cooking presentation:

    – his inspiration for the character “Dexter” came when he was speaking at a Kiwanis Club luncheon…looking out at the real estate brokers, insurance agents….and bankers….and thought that serial killing may not be such a “bad thing”

    – it took Jeff 5 years to get his book published…after being turned down dozens of time, and being married to a Hemingway!
    – he writes every day from 3:30am – 6:30am….and that’s it. 5-6 pages per day

    – you can spend 3 hours a day writing…and get 5-6 pages…or spend 10 hours a day…and get 5-6 pages.   When you’ve squeezed all of the juice out of the orange….you’re done.   Don’t waste more time trying to squeeze juice from a dried up orange.

    Sitting in the Culinary Tent, eating FREE FOOD…and listening to the writer who “created” Dexter – was turning out to be a bonanza of a day. Paddy and I returned to the boat…with bellies full of food from the Culinary tent, and having visited the least number of artist’s booths…
  • 70 MPH of wind is a TAD above GALE Yet, the weather forecast images took on a rainbow of colors, and a range of numbers we had not seen before from our unprotected anchorage on Biscayne Bay.

    Surely the “70” listed on Weather.com website was a typo. Just to be safe, we removed anything from deck that could go flying, and secured 3 heavy duty lines to the mooring ball. And waited….

    The skies darkened….and the distant horizon lit up with spectacular lightening. Suddenly the eerie sounds of 60+ MPH winds rip thru Coconut Grove FL while we sit helpless on Cat Maudy attached to a mooring ball. I stopped looking at the wind speed when it hit 54 knots. Within seconds – we had zero visibility, and the wind howled louder than an oncoming train. You could not see your adjacent boating neighbors – 50 yards away. All we can do is “hope” that our ropes hold tight to the mooring ball.

    It’s pretty scary being out in the belly of Biscayne Bay twirling around your mooring ball (anchor) – with winds so loud you can’t hear your own voice. Do not know what we would have done if our boat broke free. There are lots of boat anchored…and no visibility… Best not to think about that.

    In 15 harrowing minutes…the massive storm front had moved eastward toward the Bahamas…and the rest of the evening would shake the boat with gusts of 35 knot winds from the west. With firsthand knowledge of 60MPH of winds, any silly notion about relocating Cat Maudy south, during hurricane season – is no longer on the table. Watch this video — just moments before 60MPH…(and after). OK OK…when the winds hit 60MPH…I hid in the hull!

  • May the jet stream return,
    to where it’s supposto go,
    so your workouts can burn,
    without shoveling snow

  • From my brief debut in The Checket Cup Tennis Tournament ..

    I realized that with just a “few” modifications, “tennis” could become a very aerobic, and entertaining sport – irregardless of your skill. Here are my suggestions:

    First, TENNIS gets an aerobic makeover. Maybe something like: you are required to jog in place between points – and do sprints during a set change. No more sitting between game changes either. Forget about the bathroom break. You shouldn’t have consumed that gallon of water before your match! When the ball rolls to the far corners of the court…instead of strolling there to kill time, you make a mad dash to retrieve it before it stops rolling. And if someone feels the need to say something other than the score….the “verbalizer” will be required to run 3 laps around the court for each word that escapes. Imagine the endorphin “high” tennis players would enjoy…

    Tennis adds an entertainment factor! BUTT QUARTERS….should be integrated into ONCOURT tennis. For example, if you miss a shot, don’t like a line call, and simply must exhale with 4 letter classics….you will immediately run to the sidelines and drop a butt quarter – until you hit the cup. Wouldn’t that make tennis matches more entertaining?

    For now, the Butt Quarter championships is played OFF COURT – with contestants from The Checket Cup tennis tournament in Ft. Lauderdale FL. Captured on video, you can see that BUTT QUARTERS requires precise timing, aim, and movement skills – just like tennis!

    BTW…Kudos to friends Peg & Joan for winning the backdraw doubles…and Susan and partner for winning the main draw doubs!
  • The winds are calm and there is a light ripple tickling the hull as the sun fades to the west.  I check my voice messages.

    “Hey Jane – can you play in a Cat II National Championships 45 & Over doubles tournament in Ft. Lauderdale tomorrow? A player had to default…and you can substitute in. Your match will be at 3PM…call if you can make it.”

    I should have said NO:
    1. I haven’t played competitively in 5 years
    2. I’ve barely picked up a racket in 5 years
    3. I live on a boat
    4. I don’t know where my tennis sneakers are
    5. My USTA membership has expired
    6. I don’t have any tennis “clothes”
    But, what the hey? We planned to rent a car and be in Ft. Lauderdale anyway to pick up boat parts….so why not play a tennis match while I’m there? I put together a combination of inline skate race clothing & a running skirt….this will have to “do” for tennis attire. I also packed my swimsuit and goggles. you never know when there will be a swim opportunity!!
    Paddy and I hopped in the dinghy to make our way to shore….when Paddy reminded me I needed tennis rackets. Oh yeah. Minor detail. I returned to the boat….found ’em hiding in the bilge. Armed with tennis rackets and an outfit that didn’t match, our dinghy surfed it’s way to shore with 20 knot winds and following seas.
    Despite a shortage of rental cars due to “Superbowl weekend” in Miami…we managed to get a rental….and rushed to Sunrise FL to pick up boat parts, and consume some amazing Peruvian food for lunch. Next stop…The Tennis Club of Ft. Lauderdale.
    Moments before our match was called to court, I met my doubles partner – Tanya. “I just got off my boat…and haven’t played competitive tennis in years. You’re cool with that, right?”

    Without a doubt – my game was quite rusty….both physically and mentally. For example, when Tanya served – she requested that we play “Australian”.  I had to think on that.

    Tanya played beautifully, and our main draw opponents were quite good. They handed us a good can of whoop ass. My debut back to the tennis scene was quick and painful. Yet I was sure, that if we could have played 30 sets or more….we eventually could have taken them! But alas, these tournaments are limited to 2 out of 3 sets.  We vowed to do better in the consolation rounds.

  • Our mooring neighbor Captain Tom Mestrits at Dinner Key Marina, invited us for a sailing tour of upper Biscayne Bay along Key Biscayne on his John Shuttleworth 40′ catamaran.

    It was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. Tom has “local” knowledge of Biscayne Bay, and has modified / fine tuned his cat for racing (with numerous trophies to show for it). We were anxious to see how a “Cat Maudy” sista-ship sailed in comparison.

    The most noticeable difference between CM and the sista-ship…is the ease of tacking using a self-tacking jib. It was glorious. In non-sailing terminology – this means that you can change direction on the cat without having to lose speed, skip the part where you yank the sail as fast as possible so that it is taught…no need to crank the winch til your shoulders ache to tighten up the bugger….or beg the Captain to avoid making turns cuz it’s soooo dang tiring. hmmmm….if we could only make Cat Maudy tack with less effort??…

    With 15 knot winds from the north, Captain Tom sailed us into the channel near StiltsVille. Years back, a bunch of folks decided to live “off the grid” – and built their homes on STILTS….on top of the coral reef along the northern tip of Key Biscayne. During Hurricane Andrew…mother nature decided to take over – and eliminated all but approximately 10 of these homes. Shortly after the homes were destroyed, the state of Florida decided that StiltsVille wasn’t a good idea after all….evicted the remaining residents…and prohibited any rebuilding. What’s left, is a bunch of boarded up homes on stilts…slowly eroding away – in what appears to be the middle of Biscayne Bay.

    We rounded the northern tip of Key Biscayne, got a glimpse of No Name Harbor and mega-homes built by people with no shortage of mooolah….and eventually returned just south of downtown Miami – to Coconut Grove. All the while…being “chased” by sailors who recognized Captain Tom’s catamaran….and were hoping for an impromptu race.

  • After researching Bayside in downtown Miami – we decided that the marketplace was far too tourista for our tastes, with strip and shopping malls identical to those found anywhere in the US. Restaurants such as Hard Rock Cafe, Bubba Gump and block after block of Starbucks was not the experience we were craving. We can see corporate conglomerate America anywhere. Instead, we wanted to see culture, something unique….we wanted to experience Cuban Miami. We wanted to see and smell the cigar factories, the cuban food, the lifestyle. I wanted to be immersed in Spanish….no English. Bayside – would not do. It is modeled after American culture. We had to visit Little Havana – the authentic Cuban neighborhood in Miami Florida.

    What better way to experience Little Havana – than to ride our bicycles to this slice of Cuban culture? It was time to brush up on my Spanish. Hola mi amigos! I had a few phrases memorized, and can distinguish between a dog (un perro) and a car (un carro), and can count from one (uno) to 10 (diez) in espanol. This will have to do for our adventure into Little Havana.

    From our marina – the bicycle ride to Little Havana was less than 4 miles each way. We joined up with Catamaran travel mates senor Rick and seniorita Linda for a much anticipated cuban culinary experience. A “local” had recommended Versailles for the best Cuban food, and online reviews were favorable for La Carreta. Both restaurants are located in the same block on 8th Street at 37th Avenue. We could decide once we arrived.

    We opted to eat at Versailles. The menu was in English. The food was good, but I had to wonder, with an english menu – was this really authentic Cuban food? The menu has been modified for the gringos….has the food been americanized as well?

    Perhaps the scenes of electrified Cubans in the streets, cuban music everywhere and Cuban owned establishments from the days of Elian Gonzales were too vivid in my mind. As we rode our bicycles along block after block of pawn shops, car dealerships and convenience stores – the only difference was the writing on the billboards. Here, the words are in spanish. One car dealership was roasting a pig in the parking lot and blasting cuban music from a boombox. This may have to count as my most memorable cuban experience in Little Havana….gone Americana.

    To experience Havana (La Habana), an adventure to Cuba may be required. hmmm….how to get there?
  • Living on a mooring ball, 1 mile from land out in Biscayne Bay requires some strategy and forward thinking when making trips to land. Like checking the weather. I live “in the moment”. A newbie at living at anchor, and commuting to land.

    So, as we rode the dinghy to shore early Saturday morning – for an all-day Endorphin Rendezvous with family in Boca Raton – weather and state of the seas later in the evening, did not enter into my brain. La la la la la, life is good, getting endorphins, hangin’ with ‘fam….la la la la la.

    Some 12+ hours later, as we drove our itsy-bitsy compact rental car thru 2 thunderstorms, and crosswinds which caused lane changes without notice….I started to wonder what the “BB” (Biscayne Bay) might be like for our dinghy ride back to Cat Maudy.

    Quik observation: The palm trees along the shoreline were bent over, and flags were flapping wildly. Yes, we have wind. A LOT of wind. Plus, it was a headwind. Waves will be crashing into us.

    Anticipating a dunking, I bundled our laundry, and backpacks into plastic trash bags and tied them securely. We piled 3 huge plastic bags into the front of the dinghy.

    As we rounded the barrier island (which protects the docked boats at the Dinner Key Marina) , we were met with a WALL of waves. Woa. Big ones when you are in a dinghy. It was dark. The winds were blowing 25 knots from the east. And, I sat, holding on to 3 bags of belongings, and holding up a mini flashlight as our Nav light.

    As the waves came crashing over the dinghy, and hitting me in the face, the flashlight seemed no longer important. It was time to hold tight to the dinghy. Wave after wave crashed over the dinghy and into my face. I can assure you that the water IS very salty. I drank a lot of it. Captain Pat was driving, and groaning and moaning with each soaking. We were dripping wet, and I focused on anticipating the waves, and getting to Cat Maudy someway somehow.

    Naturally, Cat Maudy is moored (anchored) furthest from shore. This helps ensure that the dinghy turned into a swimming pool, and we were completely drenched. Because the waves were so large, we had to go slow….

    Finally, we made it to Cat Maudy….and dragged our water logged bodies on deck. And, sat for a moment, recovering, staring at the Miami skyline….and thinking. Next time….we’ll check the weather…

  • With weeks of pent up endorphin excitement….the 3 day weekend visit of Big Bro and tri-partner Fluffy finally arrived. We spent the weekend desperately seeking (and finding) ‘dorphins and had a whole lotta fun…..

    …avoiding stinkeye
    …getting your load on
    …searching for iguanas
    …avoiding alligators
    …getting your load off
    …parking lot dancing to disco music in “downtown” Boca
    …eating foods that aren’t good for you
    …running
    …swimming (kind of)
    …convincing Paddy and Bro to ride bikes 3 days in a row
    …biking on fold up bikes in the race bike lane along the coast
    …the art scene
    …a blast in the past…discovering Gulf Coast – the “old Florida”
    …wondering why we are so out of shape on our bikes
    …discovering a headwind
    …and better yet, a tailwind
    …checking out houses of the rich and famous
    …lawn bowling?
    …avoiding the Legion, Lodge, Moose, Elks…and other animals
    …watching the surf
    …hanging at coffee shops
    …and wishing the weekend would never end!

    Rock on family hood!!

  • It’s a rare moment when Captain Pat and I agree on sailing conditions. For example, 6′ seas are a tad large to me, while Captain Pat doesn’t bat an eye. Alternately, 10-15 knot winds is ideal for me, and generally not enough to move the boat for Captain Pat. We spend a LOT of energy negotiating and compromising. It’s all good.

    Within minutes after the hydraulic repairman evaluated our steering troubles (the RAM’s are leaking again!)….we removed the dock lines, and departed the Las Olas Muncipal Marina in Ft. Lauderdale. After waiting for two drawbridges to open, we were in the main shipping channel, with what seemed to be hundreds of fishing boats. Destination….Miami – a short 20 mile ocean hop from Port Everglades.

    Today’s weather of sunny skies, temperatures in the 70’s, a route less than 2 miles offshore, winds from the west at 10-15 knots, no rolling swells and at most 1 foot waves – were PERFECT sailing conditions….from both Captain Wuus (moi) and Captain Pat’s vantage points. The water color is a stunning turquoise blue here – and it’s easy to become mesmerized by the moment. Cat Maudy reacted with sailing speeds of 7-9 knots. In less than 2.5 hours – we were entering the channel at Port of Miami. (Want to see what the “Perfect Sail” looks like? Watch THIS VIDEO)

    Looking back at a month of sailing, motoring, and waiting for weather in dreadfully frigid temperatures and sea state conditions more stressful than relaxing, the voyage south — was all worth it today. We had finally made it, intact, to Miami. And, we had the Perfect Sail for the final hop along the east coast of the US mainland.

    Once inside the Port of Miami, we followed the ICW channel markers south, along Biscayne Bay to the mooring field at Dinner Key Marina. Dinner Key is located in Coconut Grove FL – south of Miami. At a rate of approx $10 per day, Dinner Key seemed to be one of the best cruising deals along the east coast. This rate includes:

    – unlimited water taxi

    – a pump out boat that comes to you – in the mooring field!
    – showers
    – dingy dock/landing

    ...and close proximity to grocery, boater stores, shopping, restaurants, nite life…and opportunities to exercise. The people are genuinely friendly and delightful. Could this be paradise?

    But wait. There ARE alligators (and crocodiles?) here. The marina folks have spotted them. hmmm. This will surely impact my kayaking workouts. There will be no carefree, aimless wandering, explore the bay, kayak rides. Rather, I will learn to “sprint kayak” thru the mooring field….and stay far from the grassy waters closer to shore.

  • Somewhere near the Hillsboro Inlet, we noticed our starboard engine shaking violently. Not a good time to be down an engine – when trying to navigate in narrow waterways, wait for drawbridges to open…and contend with strong tidal currents. We were down to one engine, and I had my finger on the VHF ready to hail Tow-Boat US.

    As Captain Pat tinkered with the throttle, the engine and all other “boy stuff”….I contacted the Los Olas Municipal Marina – to see if we might be able to afford a slip – while we get the engine situation resolved. Rumor has it that Ft. Lauderdale is very expensive. Miraculously, their rates were reasonable…so I signed us up. Guess we won’t be sailing to Miami today…time for boat repairs.

    BUT WAIT, Captain Pat working some mechanical genius…got the engine fixed….and we are now back to TWO working engines. Should we continue on to Miami….or check out some Ft. Lauderdale. Opted to stay a night in Ft. Lauderdale.

    Turned out to be a fabulous decision. Couldn’t have picked a better location – if I knew what I was doing! With temperatures for the FIRST TIME since departure from Maryland in the 70’s….we docked at Los Olas Municipal Marina….peeled off the winter jackets, 4 layers of clothing…and wool hats….and morphed into beach babe southerners.

    The Los Olas Municipal Marina is located in a perfect setting from my vantage point. With jogging paths and bike lanes everywhere….and 2 blocks from the Swimming Hall of Fame….I could sense that endorphins would soon be running high!

    We spent the next 5 days at dockside, soaking up the 70 degree temperatures, getting caught up on computer work and exercise …and bicycling to the grocery and boat stores – some 5 miles inland.

  • What is boat life like? Pure luxury, champagne all around…and a life a leisure right?

    I’ll let you know when that happens. In the meantime….I use the binoculars and my zoom-in camera to check the bridge marker every 30 minutes starting at 8:30AM. We need the marker to read 65′ or more (simply because we don’t trust the measurements anymore!)… Once we get maximum clearance, we’ll pull up anchor….and carefully make our way thru. The Lake Worth Inlet is on the other side of the bridge — which allows us an EXIT to the ocean. The other option is to continue on the ICW….(since we don’t have enuf time by now to make the next inlet before nightfall)….and anchor somewhere in Boca Raton.

    On the INSIDE (the ICW) between Lake Worth and Ft. Lauderdale – we will have NO fixed bridges to contend with. However, we will have 23 “opening” (drawbridges)….which could mean significant wait time for them to open. Decisions…decisions….decisisons….
    By 11:30AM, I could see that the bridge marker would give us maximum clearance for navigation. With what STILL appeared as minimal clearance….we barely made it under this final bridge. At least, we’re done with fixed bridges on the ICW!

    We opted to continue travel on the ICW….with the hopes that we could get close enough to Ft. Lauderdale — for an ocean sail the next day – to Miami. Jello plan…subject to change!
    As we approach the more affluent areas south of Lake Worth – notice that both the drawbridges and waterfront properties look like castles.
  • Irregardless of your views about global warming, I can assure you from a “water” or boating standpoint — that either one of two items are happening along the ICW:

    a) either the folks who design and construct the bridges can’t do basic math or
    b) the water levels are rising.

    Let me ‘splain. FIXED bridges…that span over the intra coastal waterway (ICW) are supposted be 65 feet in height — as measured by MEAN HIGH TIDE. This means….on the average high tide….a boat with air draft of 63.5 feet (like ours)….should be able to get under the bridge without ripping off the mast. The math that I took back in high school….tells me I should have a 1.5 feet of clearance at the AVERAGE high tide.

    But, something is VERY wrong here. On LOW tide….we find only 64 feet in bridge height — which gives us that breathtaking, heart palpitating – 6 full inches of clearance. So, maybe you can help me understand….whats up with that? Are all of the architects and construction workers using a different math these days? Or….are the water levels getting higher and higher. You decide. The next time I think it’s a good idea to travel along the ICW….please kick me.

    We reach our final FIXED bridge to navigate under before nightfall. Unfortunately, the timing puts us at precisely high tide. Considering the lack of room our mast clears at LOW tide….we opt to anchor for the nite just north of this fixed bridge. Our next low daylight tide….is 11AM Tuesday. We drop anchor and collapse with exhaustion over the stress of these fixed bridges.

  • With temperatures NOW in the upper 20’s and low 30’s…ocean coastal sailing in our open cockpit is downright unappealing. We decided to “drive the ditch” to the next inlet (Lake Worth) – and see if the weather might be any better. To do so, someone has to climb the mast – and bring down all of the goodies on top (tri-color light, anemometer, weather vane) – so that they don’t collide with one of the 5 fixed bridges between Ft. Pierce and Lake Worth Florida.

    It was time for me (aka Captain Wuuuus) to man up and give the mast climb a whirl. In 35 degree temps and 18 knot winds….I attempted my first mast climb. Locked in snug in our new bosun’s chair and safety harness….Pat hoisted me upward. All is good at the first spreader (20 feet in the air)….but not so good at the second spreader (45 feet in the air). By now, my hands were frozen from grabbing the mast….the wind pushed me around….and Captain Wuuuus needed to return back to earth. Pronto. Maybe next time. For now, I handed the job over to the pro….Captain Pat…who made the climb…and descent without incident. Whew.

    Bundled with many layers of clothes, we now wait for low tide in the AM….and depart Ft. Pierce.
  • While waiting on the right weather window in Ft Pierce Florida – we took the opportunity get caught up on Cycon work, monitor every detail of the weather, and tour the local landmarks.

    Local landmarks include:
    – the Publix supermarket
    – West Marine
    – the marina laundromat
    – Fort Pierce Inlet State Park

    Which one of these sounds the most exciting? No, not the marina laundromat. Try the Fort Pierce Inlet State Park. They charge $2.00 for bicyclists to enter the park…which is a small price to pay considering my need for endorphins. Once inside the park, I revved up my bike cadence, got locked into a delightful spin….and noticed a cop tailing me through the park. Was I doing something wrong? I paid the $2 entry fee. Curiosity got the best of me. I had to stop and ask “why are you tailing me?”.

    What do you think the response was? Take this simple quiz:
    a) I am biking too fast
    b) I am biking too slow
    c) They have never seen a bicyclist before
    d) It is a slow day in the park…and not much else to do

    If you guessed “D”….you would be correct! Glad I could provide entertainment to Ft. Pierce park police.

    Back to monitoring the arctic weather in Florida…an excerpt below from the Weather Channel:

    Across Florida, the weather was freakishly cold for a state that’s a winter respite for so many. There were snow flurries spotted in several parts of the state, as far south as Naples on the gulf coast. In Miami, the temperature was forecast to drop just below freezing overnight and threatened to break the record for low temperatures in the city.

    In perhaps a bit of an understatement, Melbourne-based National Weather Service forecaster Bob Wimmer said it was an “unusual weather event.”

    As the arctic cold began to ease in some parts of the nation, residents in northern Florida were under a hard freeze warning with temperatures expected to drop to 20 or below overnight.

    In the Florida Keys, a tropical paradise where people usually pay attention to the heat index, a term more often reserved for Northerners was being used: wind chill. Gusts were predicted to make the air feel like the upper 20s.
  • Apparently Canada is MAD at the US. I’m guessing it’s something we said. All of the cold air that normally stays in Canada for the winter — is now on permanent loan to Florida.

    With no end in sight for the frigid temperatures in central and southern Florida – we decide to depart Cape Canaveral, and sail offshore for a day hop to Ft Pierce. By 6AM, the temperatures were 35 degrees. The winds were 15-20 knots from the northwest, putting the wind chills into the 20’s. Nice.
    These are temperatures you would expect off the coast of Alaska in the Bearing Sea. NOT Florida. Florida is “The sunshine state”. The place where snowbirds descend in the winter to ESCAPE the cold. The place where your arthritis suddenly disappears. The place where you wear t-shirts and shorts year round. I should be SWEATING here… Still, we remain hopeful, that someday we’ll experience heat.
    The sea state turned out to be favorable for a day hop to Ft Pierce. Following seas, steady winds from the northwest…and some rollers. OK, the rolling swells were a bit large — in the 4-6′ range — but not uncomfortable, as we stayed tight (within 3 miles) to the coastline.
    Highlights of the voyage include:
    – I’ve lost all feeling in my hands and toes
    – our rudder worked today….no more traveling in circles!
    – fastest speed of the day – 12 knots with a reefed main
    – I saw frost in Paddy’s beard
    – we are now 60+ miles further south
    – the temperatures are not any warmer in Ft Pierce
    – snow is predicted in Orlando
    – with 6 layers of clothing, I now resemble the Michelin man

  • All weather forecasts were predicting 4-6′ waves out of Cape Canaveral. Seemed a bit large for my ‘weenie sailor’ comfort zone, so we opted to wait for calmer seas. In the meantime, I had to SEE what these 4-6′ waves looked like…up close…in person.

    Time for power walk to Jetty Park – located at the inlet to Cape Canaveral. Jetty Park is a delightful campground and beach walker paradise. The walk TO Jetty Park from Cape Marina is filled with Cruise line ports – with huge buildings and enormous parking lots. Not much of a visual, providing all the more inspiration to walk at a fast clip.

    I imagined huge walls of water breaking over the jetty. Probably even bigger waves than were forecasted. Yeah right. The sea state was perfectly calm. Sure, the breeze was stiff…but hardly a wave rocking the fishing boats – close to shore. I realized that close to shore (for northwest winds) was the place to be. If 4-6′ waves looks like this, then I’m ready to sail!

  • As the citrus crops in Florida get a week of record freezing temperatures – we are, in the midst of central Florida, trying to go south…and stay warm. It is obvious at this point, that I packed the wrong set of clothing for this trip. It’s also obvious, that this year — south means Brazil. Florida is not south enough. T-shirts and shorts? Forget that. 4-6 layers of everything I own is now the norm.

    With great pain, I unplug our 50 amp shore power at the Titusville Marina – and remove any last hope of heat for the next 3 hours. We can heat our salon only when at dock. Away from dock? It’s all about consuming hot tea, hot soup, and trying not to think about the numbness in your toes.

    Fortunately, the ICW trip from Titusville to Cape Canaveral FL is short. No fixed bridges to navigate under (whew!), and every bascule bridge opened for us as we approached. At one point, the seagulls mistook our boat for a fishing vessel – and chased us for hours. This was the highlight of the trip – for Soxy.

    We plan to stay at Cape Marina in Cape Canaveral (and grab more heat) for the nite – and then depart offshore to Ft. Pierce the next day. Only 3 problems. The sea state was looking a bit feisty, the temperatures would be in the low 30’s, and there was no marina availability in Ft Pierce. Apparently a sport fishermen tourney is happening — and all dock spaces are taken. Thus, we would have to anchor in Ft. Pierce with no heat. Ugh. After analyzing weather, wind direction, wave height, off shore buoys, temperatures, for hours – we decided to procrastinate the final offshore decision until the next morning. Maybe things would change? Maybe it would warm up?
    For now, we’ve reunited with Cat travel mates Rick & Linda (MakeItSo) in Cape Canaveral. Dinner plans were made for a nearby seafood restaurant called FishLips. A local YachtieYachta friend of R&L (Maryanne) offered to drive. It appears that our most pressing dilemma, was to figure out how to fit 5 people in a mini-Cooper. It can be done!
  • Should the NASA program at Cape Canaveral ever get scuttled, the town of Titusville FL would most likely disappear. Not that there is much town here to begin with!

    Some elements of Titusville, have already moved on. The Post Office for example. Don’t waste your time looking for a mailbox here. When the Post Office left Main St. Titusville one year ago, it appears that they grabbed all of the neighborhood mailboxes as well. Not one mailbox to be found here.

    While searching for that elusive mailbox, we stumbled onto the the Space Walk Hall of Fame (housed in an ol‘ 7-11 style building). The Space Walk Hall of Fame is run by retired NASA employees, who want to ensure that the NASA history is preserved. They collect donated items from NASA employees (such as clothing and space suits), and even house the NASA command center from the 1960’s (which was once destined for some NASA dumpster). We spent an hour learning NASA-speak….and felt thoroughly educated (for the day) from our delightful tour guides.

    As we departed, and made a donation, the retired NASA folks volunteered to mail my letter for me. Who needs a mailbox? Love small towns!

  • It’s hard to describe the tranquility at Mosquito Lagoon. With winter temperatures in the 50’s — there were no mosquitoes here! This area is a vast body of shallow water, in between the barrier island and the mainland in central Florida. Utterly peaceful, quiet and undisturbed views abound.
    There is no shortage of dolphins, pelicans – and an underwater world that I can only “guess” at beneath the surface. Manatees? We’ve seen plenty of signs about the manatees – but have yet to see any.
    By 7:30AM, Cat Maudy & MakeItSo brought up anchors…and began travels south on the ICW. Today’s destination would be Titusville FL (for us), and Cocoa Beach (for MakeItSo). If we weren’t so stressed about the fixed bridges (3 in Cocoa Beach) – we would be joining our travel mates for New Year’s Eve celebration in Cocoa. But alas, we would end 2009 at Titusville – and see what this town has to offer.
    The marina staff located us on the “Party Dock” (the E Dock). Pilings are decorated in Christmas paper, and boats are glowing in Christmas lights. It appears that happy hour has already started (well before noon!) – and the folks are super friendly. I hope the party dock won’t be too disappointed when I become drowsy around 8PM.

    Pat and I immediately took off to explore the “town”. Titusville is quaint, small – and offers a coffee and gourmet chocolate shop (which also serves lunch)– so I can’t imagine what else is necessary here? Lunch menu includes vegetarian foods. Life is VERY good.
    Later that day – we ventured into the closest supermarket – called the “SAVE A-LOT”. The prices are UNHEARD of. It’s as if I hopped a ride to the past (30 years ago). Pasta….30 cents a box. Bread….89 cents. Cat food….cans the size for dogs…and 4 for a dollar. There will be much time spent at the SAVE A LOT as we provision up for the next 30 days!
    Apparently the manatees hover in the marina where we are docked. Unfortunately, 2 days before our arrival…they left…and headed south. I think the manatees have the right idea. Temperatures in the next few days will be in the 30’s at night. C’mon Florida — give a girl a little heat OK?

    Happy New Year!

  • I awoke to a brisk 48 degrees inside of Cat Maudy. Soxy was glued to me under the covers and it was obvious that we had not yet reached “the south”.

    Today would be a full day of motoring on the ICW, with many 65′ fixed bridges to navigate under. Rumor has it, that the water levels are up. In addition, the state of Florida has “adjusted” some of the bridge water markers to reflect the low hanging LIGHT instead of the fixed bridge height. Thus, you wouldn’t know if the marker was for the fixed bridge…or the low hanging light.

    Cat Maudy needs 63’8″ to navigate under the bridges and clear the mast. I dusted off my digital Stanley “measure stick” and began practicing to hit distances 60+ feet above me. We need an accurate read on the bridges to assess if there was sufficient height for clearance.

    The first fixed bridge of the day — we came upon nearly at high tide. Pat navigated slowly under the bridge allowing me to do my belly-flop on the bow, and press the “measure” button on Stanley until I could get a read. Luck was in our favor! I got 2 reads on the bridge — both at 62′. Add approximately 4 feet for the bow above the water line — and this gives us 66′ clearance. 2 full feet of glorious room to spare. It was a good start to our day — and we easily cruised under this bridge.

    The 2nd bridge we came to — was at lower tide — should be easy to get under eh? Same routine, Captain Pat inched us up to the bridge – and my first read shows 60′. AIIIIIII! My second read – confirms 60′ feet of clearance. Add this to our 4′ from the bow line….and we’ve only got a few INCHES to clear. OMG.

    Our travel mates Rick & Linda on MakeItSo – decided to give it a try. I cringed as I watched their mast BARELY clear. This would be painful. With a huge leap of faith, and cheers from the fishermen along the banks near the bridge….Cat Maudy – with only inches to spare…made it under this bridge. My body began to ache from the stress. Hopefully the remaining 7 fixed bridges we would navigate under….would not be this painful.

    At this point, MakeItSo takes the lead under the fixed bridges – and we calibrated the remaining bridges based on the clearance that MakeItSo achieved. One bridge was marked as 63 feet — tho actually it had more like 66 feet of clearance. Another was marked at 64 feet….and by now Pat and I were complete basket cases of nerves.

    There must be A LOT of car traffic in Daytona FL. Bridges are constructed everywhere.– connecting the mainland to the barrier island. In approximately 5 miles, we encountered 6 fixed bridges. Most of the bridges were excruciating close encounters. My thoughts are focused on getting south of Daytona — so that we would be done with fixed bridges on our travels to Cape Canaveral. Just one more bridge to go.

    But wait! We’re being chased by the boat Sheriff! And, this is not just the “Sheriff”….it’s the POO police! Yep, they boarded our boat – to inspect our toilets….to make sure that “bad stuff” did not escape into the waterways. The POO police dropped bright yellow dye into the toilet…and then flushed away. In true Cat Maudy always-in-need-of-repairs form, …the toilet with the fresh dye overflowed all over INSIDE of our boat — spilling the dye everywhere. Oops. Minor detail. I forgot to tell the Sheriff that head doesn’t work.

    So, you’re wondering “what about the other working head?” YES, of course we are compliant with POO rules! No yellow dye escaped into the water. By now, Soxy was meowing wildly. Who was this sheriff intruder? If he wants to inspect POO — Soxy has a lovely litter box to demo. Just please keep the dye away thank you. We said goodbye to the friendly poo police in Daytona…..there would be no fining Cat Maudy today. Just another toilet to fix.

    Gradually, the currents in the ICW began working against us, and our motoring speeds slowed. We would not make it to our destination at Titusville FL. Instead, we would anchor at Mosquito Lagoon for the night – and enjoy temperatures in the upper 50’s.

  • 37 degrees in St. Augustine FL? I had to look twice at the thermometer just to be sure. It couldn’t possibly be 37 degrees — after all, we are in FLORIDA! But, we are still too far NORTH. And, as much as St. Augustine is a very cool place to hang….it’s just not cool at these temperatures.

    After multiple conversations with our travel mates Rick and Linda on catamaran MakeItSo, we abandoned the notion to sail offshore in these temperatures. It looks like we’ll be staying in St. Augustine til after New Years. But wait…after checking the weather for Jan 1….it is forecasted to be even COLDER than today. Time for a new plan….

    The dreaded ICW is now the option of choice. Instead of waiting 4-5 days for the next blast of northerly winds, in 2 1/2 days, we could be in Cocoa Beach…further south….with more heat. This would make it far more palitable when sailing offshore when that next northerly wind window appears. The plan? Day 1 would be a very short hop. 14 miles on the ICW – til we reach our anchorage near the Matanzas Inlet. Day 2 plan….somewhere south of Daytona Beach….and New Years Eve – in Cocoa Beach. Let the warming begin.
  • The port side rudder was LOCKED into place. It would not turn – making steering Cat Maudy a challenge. So when we paid a visit to the St. Augustine Marine Center – (who were short on staff due to the December holidays) – we weren’t sure what to expect. Would Cat Maudy need to wait a week to get hauled out for rudder repairs? Could the rudder be repaired with Cat Maudy in the water by the skeleton staff?

    To our amazement, the moment we arrived at dock – we were greeted by a team of repair specialists — who immediately determined that (a) they could repair the rudder without removing Cat Maudy from the water and (b) they would assign Ronnie to work on it right away. Talk about SERVICE!!!

    Ronnie and Pat wrestled the rudder off the boat….and wheeled it to the Shop for repairs. The rudder was lifted, so that the shaft could rest on a vice grip….while the bearings and rudder could be dismantled. The end result? The shaft was not bent….the bearings were fine….but the aluminum shaft had corroded around the bearing….causing it to expand and exert pressure on the bearing…and locking up the ability to turn the rudder. Sheezz….a lot of details. I need to go for some exercise.
    By 4PM (6 hours after we arrived)…the shaft had been cleansed of corrosive pixie dust, barrier goo applied to prevent further corrosion, the rudder assembly restored and returned back onto the boat. Cat Maudy has steering again!!!! Many thanks to the staff at the St. Augustine Marine Center. You guys rock!
  • Our new found fishermen buddies Holland and Shawn found some of the best fishing grounds inside of the St. Augustine Inlet, and only a few yards away from Cat Maudy. Naturally I cheered like a wild woman when Holland caught his first Sheepshead fish (the fish that have human like teeth). Sssshhhhhh. Cheering for a fisherman would be “incorrect”. No need to attract OTHER fisherman to this hotspot – so I promised to keep the commotion down when the next fish was caught.

    Time to buy my Florida fishing license. I imagined fresh catch for dinner every night. Perhaps, I wouldn’t know what to do if I were to catch a fish….wouldn’t know how to kill it….and surely wouldn’t know how to fillet it. But those are details that can be dealt with another day.

    Here’s what I learned from our fishing friends:
    – you can keep 15 sheepshead per person per day. That’s a lotto fish!
    – the bait is an itsy bitsy crab thing
    – chum by scraping off the barnacles near a dock or bridge piling
    – then add some broken up mussels to add to the chum flavor
    – put your hook down…and start reelin‘ em in!

    The H&S fishing team caught 24 fish that day….just 6 short of their daily limit for 2 people. And, not only did they donate 2 of these fish to us….but took the time to show us how to fillet them! Thanks Shawn & Holland….our fresh sheepshead fish dinner was truly divine!

  • Christmas Eve at the Pizzeria and Christmas day at the Columbia Restaurant in historic St. Augustine – with CAT mates Rick & Linda (MakeItSo), Larry & Karen (Chateau sur la Mer), Shelly and Lynn (Anythings Pawsible).

    The jammin’ and Christmas sounds of St. Augustine made for a festive atmosphere as we took a break from thinking about boat repairs and how to pay for them!

    Christmas nite? Listened to live jazz cuban music, shared more yachtie yachta stories about places we’ve been, cheap marinas, expensive marinas, the desire to travel to cuba, and yes indeedie – that darn salsa dancing is harder than you think! Soon we’ll be departing our separate ways, with new cruising destinations…and surely to meet up again.


  • 5:30AM, on December, 22, (the day after solstice, and the second shortest daylight hour day), a convoy of 3 catamarans departed the Charleston Harbor in SC. The temperatures were a balmy 45 degrees, and light winds. After waiting dockside for 6 weeks due to a series of excuses such as: work, inertia, flu, boat repairs, convoy coordination, cold weather, too windy weather and more — the conditions were finally “perfect” – from my standpoint. Lite winds…cold, but not freezing…and 3 catamarans ready to go.

    Rick and Linda’s catamaran MakeItSo won the prize for the most boat repairs in a 48 hour period (AIS, navigation lights and a brand new battery charger installed only 12 hours earlier, and countless reboots to see if anything would improve). Our boat, Cat Maudy took a very close second place award, with it’s ongoing rudder mal-alignment issue, and sails that require a crew of 5 to hoist. Larry and Karen’s boat Chateau sur la Mer, was short on diesel and running on fumes (without wind and the use of sails), but Karen skillfully cooked up bean soup to the rescue! Yes, the conditions were perfect for a 200 mile offshore overnight cruise!

    Jane’s Boat logs:
    12.22 8AM Conditions Calm & Lumpy – I can live with this
    12.22 10AM MakeItSo hugs shoreline for Internet connection. I aim for MakeItSo.
    12.22 11AM No seas at all – lovely!! Metabolism is in overdrive. Eating every 2 hours. Maybe this is nothing new?..I suppose I normally eat every 2 hours…12.22 1PM Pat wants to hoist the main. I need to workout more. Sail is too big. I insist on 1 reef – you never know when big winds suddenly appear.
    12.22 2PM lite air – thank u jesus
    12.22 3PM steering problems. I have to tether on the port pulpit…and dangle over the rudder to release the hydraulics. Joy! What’s with this POS rudder?
    12.22 6PM last stitch of twilight. Visibility nil. Stars and moonlite. I hope our radar works. Soxy is not herself. I have to hold her a lot.
    12.22 10PM Pat sleeps. I head the boat toward shore.
    12.23 midnite Cat Maudy and MakeItSo share radar, navigation and AIS info. What a wonderful world
    12.23 1AM What’s up with these freak’in rudders? I get to dangle over the port pulpit again. I hope Jaws isn’t waiting for me.
    12.23 3AM Pat sleeps. La la la….all is good. HOLY SH*# there is a huge freighter directly in front of me!!!!!!!! Take evasive maneuvers. I’m wide awake now. Can’t wait for daylight
    12.23 4AM A little breeze is appearing. Hope it stays little. Why is the air from the south? Soxy is not eating.
    12.23 6AM daylite cannot come soon enuf. We’re getting winds from the East. It’s supposto be from the north. Wrong again!
    12.23 8AM little itsy bitsy breeze is causing the seas to act up? Getting lumpy.
    12.23 10AM Pat is diggin’ the breeze. Down to 1 engine, motor sailing at 7.5 knots. It’s actually OK. As long as it doesn’t get feisty.
    12.23 1PM We approach St. Augustine inlet. I bring down the main. It’s a monster…takes forever allowing me to bounce around and try to hang on. Oh yeah, I get to dangle over the rudder again. We need steering to get thru the inlet.
    12.23 2PM Soxy is no longer talking to us. I’m guessing motion sickness.
    12.23 6PM Soxy is back to being our pal

    Pat’s Boat Logs
    12.22 10AM Karen makes bean soup for Larry. Suddenly, they are catching air! Head out further from shore.
    12.22 12PM Busted No wind. 1 engine (starboard) to save fuel.
    12.22 1PM Radio communication w/Larry down and back w/Rick. Hoisted Main. Waiting for wind
    12.22 3PM steering problems persist. I recalibrate from the helm.
    12.22 5PM Larry sleeps. Too much bean soup.
    12.22 8PM Jane sleeps. I head Cat Maudy out away from shore.
    12.23 1AM recalibrate the rudders every 2 hours now. Steering is bad.
    12.23 3AM Jane wakes me up and is fussing about a freighter. Yep, she almost hits it.
    12.23 5AM Jane makes me a grilled cheese ‘sammie. 5knots apparent from the east. Hope to unfurl the jib by dawn.
    12.23 7AM Unfurl the jib – we are now motor sailing. Hoping for more wind.
    12.23 2PM Wait 30 min for the Bridge of Lions to open. Our marina is on the other side of the bridge
    12.23 3PM Secured at dock.

    Northwest winds did not exist, and any winds were from the south. This provided the benefit of warmer weather, along with the accompanying concern that the forecasters got this one completely wrong. North west winds should clock to North…then North East….but southerly winds (albeit very light) should not have been in our weather window. And why were they clocking east? I could see the potential for big seas erupting. But, they didn’t. At least until after we arrived at St. Augustine.

    32 hours later, we arrived at St. Augustine, FL and successfully avoided mating Right whales, and becoming bowsprits on incoming freighters at the St. Simon Inlet. Even with starlit nighttime skies, and radar hinting that a “blip” might be important, you just can’t see a thing in the dark. Including inbound freighters at the St. Simon inlet.

    At the end? 3 catamarans…intact, Boat repair list…expanding. 6 crew members….exhausted. And more cruising stories to tell. It was time to make plans to celebrate Christmas, in St. Augustine.
  • As cruisers arrived at the Charleston Maritime Center – Dockmaster Bob generously volunteered to OPEN the KITCHEN doors and the adjacent conference room to cruisers for a Thanksgiving feast.   Living on a boat, I have learned to cook with a single propane cooktop burner – which basically means I skip the cooking notion altogether and just make salads.   Now, a REAL kitchen means microwave open, a real oven that you can fit more than a fistful of food, larger than human sized refridgeration and a sink with running hot water.   Thanksgiving can’t come soon enough!

    What began as a carefully choreographed meal plan for 8 – quickly morphed into a free-for-all mealplan to feed 28.   Nobody knew what food choices were being selected for the pot-luck dinner – but with a full sized kitchen, and a bunch of hungry cruisers, it was destined to be a feast.   The traditional turkey and ham, was supplimented by even more turkey…a pork tenderloin…Bob’s special Fish Stew – and an assortment of side dishes with enough food to feed a  crew of 50!

    There were no shortages of dessert – from apple pie, cherry pie, pecan pie, chocolate cake, cranberry pie and key lime pie to name a few.   Bellies were full, waistlines expanding and the atmosphere was filled with delightful chatter, talk of next port destinations and of course, boat repairs!   Thanksgiving in Charleston – cruiser style!

  • Busy with client work, sailing Cat Maudy out of Charleston is delayed – until after December 1. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t spend some time capturing local flavor. My Charleston tours are more like an exercise jaunt around the tip of the Charleston SC peninsula. Notable sights include:

    1. Grasses at low tide
    2. Lake drain…more low tide
    3. Very big and very dead Marlin
    4. Bobbing for pumpkins
    5. Paddy rides the fold-up bike

  • After a 72 hour sail from Baltimore MD to Charleston SC, we take in the sights including:

    The Historic Battery
    The Recently built Ravenel Bridge

    …and everything inbetween.

    Waiting 30 days…for Admiral Captain Jane to arrive.

  • Delivery Crew (L to R) Bill Edward, John Martin, Pat Todd, Frank Rubright


    Baltimore to Norfolk

    Departed Balitmore 0919 140nm 21.5hrs avg: 6.6kts SOG

    Norfolk to Cape Hatteras
    148nm 23hrs avg: 6.4kts SOG

    Cape Hatteras to Cape Lookout
    77nm 11hrs. Avg: 7kts SOG

    Cape Lookout to Frying Pan Shoals
    79nm 9hrs 8.8kts SOG

    Frying Pan Shoals to Winyah Bay
    67nm 8hrs 8.3kts SOG

    Winyah Bay to Charleston Harbor Entrance
    55nm 7hrs Avg: 7.8kts SOG

  • Notes from dockside:

    Friday, Oct 16, 2009 9AM:
    On an unusually COLD (40 degree) and drenching rain day in Baltimore, Cat Maudy departs the docks at Anchorage Marina…to head south to Charleston SC. Captain Pat heads up a very capable 4 man crew of John Martin and Frank Rubright from Michigan, and Bill Edwards from Baltimore MD. Finding the right weather window, along with crew availablity is not always easy. With unusually cold and downpour rains, accompanied by gale force winds – this would not be a weather window where I would leave the dock. But alas, I am not on this leg of the southern trip, and the decision is made by the Captain and crew.
    Thanks to SPOT – those of us at dockside have complete visibility to GPS positions of Cat Maudy while at sea….and thanks to NOAA weather buoys – the actual wave height, winds and sea state conditions are readily available. Sometimes, this is too much information. The buoy’s indicate the sea state conditions at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. And, the conditions are deterioriating rapidly. It is now 4AM, and I can no longer watch.
    Saturday, Oct 17, 2009 6:30AM:
    The good news, is that the air temperatures are in the 50’s. The bad news is that the winds are blowing 25-30, and it feels like temps are in the 30’s. Pat calls from cell phone range to report in. He sounds exhausted – but not as bad as he sounded yesterday. Once out of the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay – there is no turning back. There are no harbors or ports to sail into – until you reach the southern portion of the outer banks – at Beaufort, NC. Each time a new SPOT position was transmitted by Cat Maudy –
    I ran all of the speed and weather checks, to evaluate how they were doing. The weather checklist includes:

    Cape henry data buoy: For sea state off mouth of the ChesapeakeChesapeake lt off Chesapeake bay entrance: For near shore wind conditions
    cape hatteras data buoys: diamond shoalsall hatteras data buoys
    Sunday, October 18, 2009 9:15AM
    Pat calls from the satellite phone. They are double reefed on the main, and have a reefed jib…and are cruising along at 9 knots.

    Monday, October 19, 2009 9AM
    Cat Maudy and crew approach the entrance to the Charleston harbor…
  • 50’s are the new 30’s. Ok, maybe I’m pushing that a bit, but I’m now officially part of the “AARP Club”. Let the member benefits begin!

    Cat Maudy’s repair list is nearing completion – but she is still dockside. My big day would be filled with land-lubber activities. After sharing coffee and tea with hubby Paddy – it was time to find a workout. I met Jill at the Merritt Club the moment it opened – and we raced to the pool to be sure to get a lane. Racing was not necessary. Nobody else was silly enough to go to an outdoor swimming pool – with air temperatures in the upper 50’s. As we were about to begin our swim with a photo-op….Longshoreman Walt arrived at the pool scene for a swim – and asked to be in our picture. Notice the scary man in our swim photo – this is Walt. We don’t know him. He’s a longshoreman. We didn’t ask any more questions.

    Swimming was glorious, where I highlighted 30 days of freestyle learning – and Jill demo’d the “Pro” version. Something to aspire to. We hopped onto as many machines as possible – to achieve 50 events for the day. From biking, to ellipitical, to stair climbing, to balancing, to step aerobics…and finally some hoop action — the gym workout was just the right dosage for this new member of the 50’s Club.

    Morning endorphins were running high – and it was time to hook up with big bro Chuck, fluffy sis Jill, girlfriend Tami and hubby Paddy for a trip out to Misty Manor Riding Stable – to go horseback riding.

    I have never been on a horse. My mom loved to ride horses as a child, until she had a tragic fall, nearly died, and ended up in the hospital for 6 months. She never rode after that, and refused to allow me to ride a horse in my younger years. Fast forward many many years – and it was time to see what horseback riding was all about. I envisioned my big day, in a corral, on a geriatric horse that didn’t have the energy to do anything frisky, and someone holding it’s leash – guiding me in circles for an hour. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

    Misty Manor Farms…is a “REAL” farm / riding stable. Horses, pigs, goats, extra large dogs, cats all run free. There are no fences here. There is no corral. This should have been my first clue.

    We all had to sign a LOT of paperwork saying that we understood that:

    1. horseback riding is very dangerous, and the horse could kill us
    2. it wasn’t the horse’s fault if it did
    3. you could wear a helmet if that made you feel better

    None of us opted to wear the helmets. Perhaps the corral was just out of sight?

    It was time for horse assignments. Paddy was first to hop on his horse named “Lightening”. Paddy & Lightening seemed at ease with each other. Lightening was docile – and Paddy & Lightening patiently waited for the rest of us to get mounted. I’m guessing Paddy was a Cowboy in his previous life.

    Jill was next, and she was assigned a horse named “Alaska”. They bonded immediately. Well, of course they would. Jill spills out that she had taken horseback riding (English) as a youngster. English riding is similar to how the jockeys ride a racehorse. I worried the farm folks would think we are experienced riders – based on the show by Cowboy Paddy and Cowgirl Jill.

    Time for bro Chuck to saddle up onto a horse named “TJ”. TJ had a mind of his own – and immediately headed for the large tub of water to quench his thirst. TJ was in charge, tho Chuck appeared very comfortable with that fact. My brother is very easy going.

    My turn. I saddled up onto “Winston”. I repeatedly informed the farm folks that I had NEVER ridden a horse before. They smiled and nodded, and assured me that Winston was the perfect horse for me. I put one hand with an iron clad grip on the saddle, and the other held onto the reins. Winston made a beeline for the drink bucket, and he (and I) dipped many times.

    Tami, has been my childhood friend since the age of 6. One of my early recollections, has been her (and her siblings) undisputed FEAR of animals. I’m talking kitty cats, dogs, gerbils, toads, frogs, you name it. One year, her mother tried to correct the children’s misguided fear — and bought a few cats to roam free in the house. All I can remember — is that every child SCATTERED when the cats appeared in their rooms. The children were terrified. It did nothing to alleviate their fears. So, I was STUNNED (and amazed), to hear that Tami would be joining us for this horseback riding adventure.

    Tami was last to get saddled up, and perhaps too nervous to catch the name of her horse. We’ll just give him a name – “Horsey”. I stared in amazement at Tami bonded with this very large animal.

    Our horse guide – Dave – blathered out trail riding instructions:

    1. Follow the horse in front of you -in single file…in a specific horse order. No exceptions.
    2. My horse Winston would bring up the rear.
    3. Stay on the muddy tail…off the trail are hornets nests – and they get really mad this time of year
    4. Winston has to stay far back from Horsey (directly in front of Winston)- cuz Horsey liked to kick backwards.

      This was a good opportunity to try out religion. Please let Winston keep a good distance form Horsey.

      That was IT for instructions. Cowboy Pat was directly behind Trail Guide Dave, followed by Cowgirl Jill and Cowboy Chuck….All 3 looked very comfortable on their horses.

    But wait. Where is the corral? Where is the human on the ground with the leash? None of those appeared.

    So, there we were. 5 of us, and trail guide Dave along a skinny trail, single file, thru the fields and forests.

    Winston was not keen on playing “follow the leader”, and Horsey was moving at a much slower pace than all of the other animals. Since Winston could not leap frog ahead of Horsey, Tami & I gradually lost ground from the rest of the pack.

    At this point Winston decided it was time for lunch. He put his head down, and happily rummaged off the trail. Tami’s horse had stopped completely. No more forward propulsion. Trail Guide Dave yells at us for failing to control our horses. Okey dokey. Perhaps some instructions would help?

    Dave finally provides a few instructions. We are to kick the horse to get ’em to move faster, pull their heads HARD to the right or left to make them move in that direction. Oh yeah, and pull the reins back to make ’em stop going forward. It sounded so violent. Tami and I were on the same page. We would not kick the horses to make them go faster. We preferred that they move slowly.

    I don’t think Winston had been fed for a week. He was hell bent on eating. I kept pulling his reins per Dave’s instructions so that his head could not make it down to the foliage…but now all Winston does is jerk his head up and down uncontrollably. Winston is not happy, and I’m starting to get a bit concerned.

    Winston has finally had enough of trailing slow-poke Horsey. Winston decides to make a break for freedom, and gallops in the opposite direction. I’m hanging on for dear life…and bouncing along a top of Winston. Holy moley!!! I do what any novice horseback rider would do — scream for HELP!!!!!!!!!!!

    Trail Guide Dave arrives just in time — to yell at me again for not controlling my horse. I’m not sure which is more appealing – Dave yelling at me for having no clue how to ride a horse, or Winston taking a shortcut back to the ranch. Pat, Jill and Chuck wait patiently on very calm horses….for Tami and I to catch up.

    Things seem to be going better as we weave thru the woodlands, jump over very large downed trees, and ride single file down to the riverbank.

    About 10 feet from the riverbank – Chuck’s horse TJ has decided that there is NO WAY he is going to keep going. Can’t say that I blame TJ. The trail gets extra muddy, and who knows what’s in that water? Dave yells at Chuck to slap his horse in the butt.

    I watch in amusement. It appears that I’m not the only one who refuses to slap and kick the horse to make em go faster. We waited a very long time for Chuck to convince TJ to get down the little bank and hop in the water. TJ finally obliged, despite very strong objections.

    Unfortunately, while waiting for TJ to make his move, Horsey and Winston began acting up. Tami becomes terrified of her beast….and I’m getting more nervous by the minute. I pretend to be the horse whisperer, to no avail. Winston has a violent head bucking thing going on – and I start a new religious moment praying that he doesn’t thro me off. Every other sentence, I try to convince Tami that “all is OK”. Cowboy Paddy and Cowgirl Jill at the head of the line were smiling, laughing, taking pictures and enjoying the moment. Eventually, our horses resumed “follow the leader”…and we were now hoofin’ it thru the riverbed.

    We traversed thru the river, and up the riverbank into the Patapsco State Park…for a brief road crossing…and then up a mountain. Tami, in a quivering voice inquires every 5 minutes “Are we done yet? How much longer?” I reassure her that we are almost back to the ranch. But, Tami is much too smart for my benign response. “Jane – How do you know how close we are to the finish?” I’m just “sayin”.

    Tami wants to beat feet…get off her horse in the middle of the trail, and walk back. I can relate. As I suggested to Tami that she think other thoughts for awhile…suddenly all of that head bucking by Winston tore the reins completely out of my hands. The knot that holds the right and left rein came undone…and the reins were dangling on the ground. OMG….I yell out “I’ve lost steering!!” Dave is not quick to respond…and Winston steps on the reins nearly throwing me over his head. I yell again – “I’ve lost steering”.

    Perhaps “lost steering” is boat terminology — but it applies to horses. Many minutes go by until Dave shows up to grab the lost reins. I quickly restore the knot in the reins. Now, Tami is in a frenzy….since I was in a frenzy….the horses sense the frenzy, and we go round and round on this frenzied merry go round!

    I’d sure feel a lot better if Winston would stop the head bucking. It seems if the horses keep moving along without stopping – Winston settles down. We are approaching a brief hill climb. The lead horses on Cowboy Pat and Cowgirl Jill gallivant at a brisk pace up a short hill. Sure enough, Cowboy Chuck and TJ also gallop up the hill. Woaaa. Tami will freak when her horse starts galloping. So, I give play by play instructions — “Tami – your horse is going to run up the hill…so hang on with everything you got…he’ll stop at the top…it’s OK”….Both Tami and Horsey made it to the top of the hill intact. Winston and I followed suit – and miraculously, our horses settled back to slo-mo at the top of the hill.

    As we passed along the wide open field, with the riding stable in sight…TWO HOURS from when we started this adventure…my only thought was “how quickly could I get off of Winston?”. Tami interrupted that thought – and immediately informed the farm folks that she needed to be FIRST off her horse. Before I knew it, Tami had dismounted and made a 100 yard dash for the car.

    Out of the corner of my eye, a very unusual situation was unfolding. In an instant, Alaska, along with Cowgirl Jill took off on a FULL SPRINT inside of the barn. I watched sissy disparately pull back HARD on the reins – without ANY success. There was no controlling that horse – Alaska was on a mission. Sissy and Alaska are now out of view – somewhere in the barn. As much as I wanted to know if Sissy was OK…First things first. I just HAD to get off of Winston. It was a glorious moment stepping into the mud and horse poo. I was back on land and off the bucking beast.

    Paddy, Chuck, Sissy, Tami and I were reunited, and walking around like cowboys. It will be days before I can bring my knees together. Cowgirl Jill and Alaska were just fine. Apparently, Alaska was hungry and wanted to be first to the food trough. I can relate.

    Next stop…barbeque, amazing salads and toffee-crunch CAKE….along with a slide show of how I’ve aged over 50 years (thank you Big Bro – only you would know!). From this slide-show, I’ve learned a few simple things about myself:

    • I’m always exercising
    • My clothes don’t match, and I’ve never acquired any fashion sense
    • I love CAKE!

    Many thanks to family Paddy, Chuck, Sissy, Tami, Emma, Mike and Fred for putting on a most memorable day!! You guys rock!

  • 50’s are the new 30’s. Ok, maybe I’m pushing that a bit, but I’m now officially part of the “AARP Club”. Let the member benefits begin!

    Cat Maudy’s repair list is nearing completion (i.e. we’re taking a break from spending $$$)- but she is still dockside. My big day would be filled with land-lubber activities. After sharing coffee and tea with Captain Paddy – it was time to find a workout. I met Jill (sister-n-law and workout partner) at the Merritt Club the moment it opened – and we raced to the pool to be sure to get a lane. Racing was not necessary. Nobody else was silly enough to go to an outdoor swimming pool – with air temperatures in the upper 50’s. As we were about to begin our swim with a photo-op….Longshoreman Walt arrived at the pool scene for a swim – and asked to be in our picture. Notice the scary man in our swim photo – this is Walt. We don’t know him. He’s a longshoreman. We didn’t ask any more questions.

    Swimming was glorious, where I highlighted 30 days of freestyle learning – and Jill demo’d the “Pro” version. Something to aspire to. We hopped onto as many machines as possible – to achieve 50 events for the day. From biking, to ellipitical, to stair climbing, to balancing, to step aerobics…and finally some hoop action — the gym workout was just the right dosage for this new member of the 50’s Club.

    Morning endorphins were running high – and it was time to hook up with big bro Chuck, fluffy sis Jill, girlfriend Tami and hubby Paddy for a trip out to Misty Manor Riding Stable – to go horseback riding.

    I have never been on a horse. My mom loved to ride horses as a child, until she had a tragic fall, nearly died, and ended up in the hospital for 6 months. She never rode after that, and refused to allow me to ride a horse in my younger years. Fast forward many many years – and it was time to see what horseback riding was all about. I envisioned my big day, in a corral, on a geriatric horse that didn’t have the energy to do anything frisky, and someone holding it’s leash – guiding me in circles for an hour. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

    Misty Manor Farms…is a “REAL” farm / riding stable. Horses, pigs, goats, extra large dogs, cats all run free. There are no fences here. There is no corral. This should have been my first clue.

    We all had to sign a LOT of paperwork saying that we understood that:

    1. horseback riding is very dangerous, and the horse could kill us
    2. it wasn’t the horse’s fault if it did
    3. you could wear a helmet if that made you feel better

    None of us opted to wear the helmets. Perhaps the corral was just out of sight?

    It was time for horse assignments. Paddy was first to hop on his horse named “Lightening”. Paddy & Lightening seemed at ease with each other. Lightening was docile – and Paddy & Lightening patiently waited for the rest of us to get mounted. I’m guessing Paddy was a Cowboy in his previous life.

    Jill was next, and she was assigned a horse named “Alaska”. They bonded immediately. Well, of course they would. Jill spills out that she had taken horseback riding (English) as a youngster. English riding is similar to how the jockeys ride a racehorse. I worried the farm folks would think we are experienced riders – based on the show by Cowboy Paddy and Cowgirl Jill.

    Time for bro Chuck to saddle up onto a horse named “TJ”. TJ had a mind of his own – and immediately headed for the large tub of water to quench his thirst. TJ was in charge, tho Chuck appeared very comfortable with that fact. My brother is very easy going.

    My turn. I saddled up onto “Winston”. I repeatedly informed the farm folks that I had NEVER ridden a horse before. They smiled and nodded, and assured me that Winston was the perfect horse for me. I put one hand with an iron clad grip on the saddle, and the other held onto the reins. Winston made a beeline for the drink bucket, and he (and I) dipped many times.

    Tami, has been my childhood friend since the age of 6. One of my early recollections, has been her (and her siblings) undisputed FEAR of animals. I’m talking kitty cats, dogs, gerbils, toads, frogs, you name it. One year, her mother tried to correct the children’s misguided fear — and bought a few cats to roam free in the house. All I can remember — is that every child SCATTERED when the cats appeared in their rooms. The children were terrified. It did nothing to alleviate their fears. So, I was STUNNED (and amazed), to hear that Tami would be joining us for this horseback riding adventure.

    Tami was last to get saddled up, and perhaps too nervous to catch the name of her horse. We’ll just give him a name – “Horsey”. I stared in amazement at Tami bonded with this very large animal.

    Our horse guide – Dave – blathered out trail riding instructions:

    1. Follow the horse in front of you -in single file…in a specific horse order. No exceptions.
    2. My horse Winston would bring up the rear.
    3. Stay on the muddy tail…off the trail are hornets nests – and they get really mad this time of year
    4. Winston has to stay far back from Horsey (directly in front of Winston)- cuz Horsey liked to kick backwards.

      This was a good opportunity to try out religion. Please let Winston keep a good distance form Horsey.

      That was IT for instructions. Cowboy Pat was directly behind Trail Guide Dave, followed by Cowgirl Jill and Cowboy Chuck….All 3 looked very comfortable on their horses.

    But wait. Where is the corral? Where is the human on the ground with the leash? None of those appeared.

    So, there we were. 5 of us, and trail guide Dave along a skinny trail, single file, thru the fields and forests.

    Winston was not keen on playing “follow the leader”, and Horsey was moving at a much slower pace than all of the other animals. Since Winston could not leap frog ahead of Horsey, Tami & I gradually lost ground from the rest of the pack.

    At this point Winston decided it was time for lunch. He put his head down, and happily rummaged off the trail. Tami’s horse had stopped completely. No more forward propulsion. Trail Guide Dave yells at us for failing to control our horses. Okey dokey. Perhaps some instructions would help?

    Dave finally provides a few instructions. We are to kick the horse to get ’em to move faster, pull their heads HARD to the right or left to make them move in that direction. Oh yeah, and pull the reins back to make ’em stop going forward. It sounded so violent. Tami and I were on the same page. We would not kick the horses to make them go faster. We preferred that they move slowly.

    I don’t think Winston had been fed for a week. He was hell bent on eating. I kept pulling his reins per Dave’s instructions so that his head could not make it down to the foliage…but now all Winston does is jerk his head up and down uncontrollably. Winston is not happy, and I’m starting to get a bit concerned.

    Winston has finally had enough of trailing slow-poke Horsey. Winston decides to make a break for freedom, and gallops in the opposite direction. I’m hanging on for dear life…and bouncing along a top of Winston. Holy moley!!! I do what any novice horseback rider would do — scream for HELP!!!!!!!!!!!

    Trail Guide Dave arrives just in time — to yell at me again for not controlling my horse. I’m not sure which is more appealing – Dave yelling at me for having no clue how to ride a horse, or Winston taking a shortcut back to the ranch. Pat, Jill and Chuck wait patiently on very calm horses….for Tami and I to catch up.

    Things seem to be going better as we weave thru the woodlands, jump over very large downed trees, and ride single file down to the riverbank.

    About 10 feet from the riverbank – Chuck’s horse TJ has decided that there is NO WAY he is going to keep going. Can’t say that I blame TJ. The trail gets extra muddy, and who knows what’s in that water? Dave yells at Chuck to slap his horse in the butt.

    I watch in amusement. It appears that I’m not the only one who refuses to slap and kick the horse to make em go faster. We waited a very long time for Chuck to convince TJ to get down the little bank and hop in the water. TJ finally obliged, despite very strong objections.

    Unfortunately, while waiting for TJ to make his move, Horsey and Winston began acting up. Tami becomes terrified of her beast….and I’m getting more nervous by the minute. I pretend to be the horse whisperer, to no avail. Winston has a violent head bucking thing going on – and I start a new religious moment praying that he doesn’t thro me off. Every other sentence, I try to convince Tami that “all is OK”. Cowboy Paddy and Cowgirl Jill at the head of the line were smiling, laughing, taking pictures and enjoying the moment. Eventually, our horses resumed “follow the leader”…and we were now hoofin’ it thru the riverbed.

    We traversed thru the river, and up the riverbank into the Patapsco State Park…for a brief road crossing…and then up a mountain. Tami, in a quivering voice inquires every 5 minutes “Are we done yet? How much longer?” I reassure her that we are almost back to the ranch. But, Tami is much too smart for my benign response. “Jane – How do you know how close we are to the finish?” I’m just “sayin”.

    Tami wants to beat feet…get off her horse in the middle of the trail, and walk back. I can relate. As I suggested to Tami that she think other thoughts for awhile…suddenly all of that head bucking by Winston tore the reins completely out of my hands. The knot that holds the right and left rein came undone…and the reins were dangling on the ground. OMG….I yell out “I’ve lost steering!!” Dave is not quick to respond…and Winston steps on the reins nearly throwing me over his head. I yell again – “I’ve lost steering”.

    Perhaps “lost steering” is boat terminology — but it applies to horses. Many minutes go by until Dave shows up to grab the lost reins. I quickly restore the knot in the reins. Now, Tami is in a frenzy….since I was in a frenzy….the horses sense the frenzy, and we go round and round on this frenzied merry go round!

    I’d sure feel a lot better if Winston would stop the head bucking. It seems if the horses keep moving along without stopping – Winston settles down. We are approaching a brief hill climb. The lead horses on Cowboy Pat and Cowgirl Jill gallivant at a brisk pace up a short hill. Sure enough, Cowboy Chuck and TJ also gallop up the hill. Woaaa. Tami will freak when her horse starts galloping. So, I give play by play instructions — “Tami – your horse is going to run up the hill…so hang on with everything you got…he’ll stop at the top…it’s OK”….Both Tami and Horsey made it to the top of the hill intact. Winston and I followed suit – and miraculously, our horses settled back to slo-mo at the top of the hill.

    As we passed along the wide open field, with the riding stable in sight…TWO HOURS from when we started this adventure…my only thought was “how quickly could I get off of Winston?”. Tami interrupted that thought – and immediately informed the farm folks that she needed to be FIRST off her horse. Before I knew it, Tami had dismounted and made a 100 yard dash for the car.

    Out of the corner of my eye, a very unusual situation was unfolding. In an instant, Alaska, along with Cowgirl Jill took off on a FULL SPRINT inside of the barn. I watched sissy disparately pull back HARD on the reins – without ANY success. There was no controlling that horse – Alaska was on a mission. Sissy and Alaska are now out of view – somewhere in the barn. As much as I wanted to know if Sissy was OK…First things first. I just HAD to get off of Winston. It was a glorious moment stepping into the mud and horse poo. I was back on land and off the bucking beast.

    Paddy, Chuck, Sissy, Tami and I were reunited, and walking around like cowboys. It will be days before I can bring my knees together. Cowgirl Jill and Alaska were just fine. Apparently, Alaska was hungry and wanted to be first to the food trough. I can relate.

    Next stop…barbeque, amazing salads and toffee-crunch CAKE….along with a slide show of how I’ve aged over 50 years (thank you Big Bro – only you would know!). From this slide-show, I’ve learned a few simple things about myself:

    • I’m always exercising
    • My clothes don’t match, and I’ve never acquired any fashion sense
    • I love CAKE!

    Many thanks to family Paddy, Chuck, Sissy, Tami, Emma, Mike and Fred for putting on a most memorable day!! You guys rock!


  • Rich from Georgetown Yacht Basin, Galena MD worked on Cat Maudy’s saildrive problem.

    He had the drives out of the boat a couple of hours after we were blocked on the hard.

    Rich found that in addition to the rubber diaphrams we needed prop shaft seals and damper plates on both drives.

    So while Rich was making things right with the saildrives Jane and I worked on our own to do list. (Jane was pretty excited about this!)

    I cleaned and lubed the Variprops. We replaced all the engine control cables except one. We put the “Cat Maudy” graphic on the bows and put on some bottom paint. Jane painted the forward v-berths. Repairs went quickly and on friday 9/18 we were ready to go back into the water.

    Finally, the fix is in and we leave the “Big Cat House” at Georgetown Yacht Basin early in the morning. Destination Baltimore MD.
  • We left Georgetown Yacht Basin in the pre-dawn. As we motored through the twists and turns of the Sassafras River area of dense fog were sculpted by a light NE breeze. This of spit of land provided a very nice photo op and then I made kinda B & W. We moved along at idle. I could hear another boat but couldn’t see it so when we were completely shrouded in fog… Hmm

    We broke loose of the fog at the mouth of Sassafras only to encounter another bank as we headed south to Baltimore.

    The new damper plates make a hugh difference. The Yanmars purrr.
  • As I scanned google maps looking for the ideal bike route, Betterton, MD – with a whopping 6 streets and a public beach at the mouth of the Sassafras River stood out. Betterton. Yes, I liked the sound of this. I imagined that life was tranquil, slow to be precise – and that would be a good thing. Ideal, most likely. Simply better. Yes, life I imagined was indeed BETTER in Betterton. I simply had to explore this on my bike and see for myself.

    I left the marina at Georgetown Yacht Basin, and pedaled thru the towns of Galena, and Still Pond along lightly auto-traveled roads with wide shoulders perfect for biking, and landscapes lined with farms. The Maryland Eastern shore is delightfully undeveloped compared to it’s more populated and urban western shore. Tho, don’t let the relatively flat terrain fool you into thinking that this will be an easy-peazy bike ride. The headwinds are strong, and relentless. But, the headwinds didn’t matter, as I was en route to BETTERton and enjoying a high-octane endorphin ride on Ms. Madone.

    Within 45 minutes, I had reached the town line of Betterton. It was exactly as I had imagined. Large, old homes built in the early 1900’s lined the main street. I didn’t see any people or traffic during my 15 minute visit – but the people of Betterton were most likely taking a break and sipping tea. This is my vision of Betterton. I descended to the end of the road – which led straight to the Betterton public beach. The views were astounding. To the north – were the Susquehanna and Elk rivers – that fed into the Chesapeake Bay. To the east – is the winding Sassafras River. I spent a few moments absorbing the scenery.

    But wait – what are these signs posted along the beachfront? Upon closer inspection – I discovered that the beach was contaminated. This is due to the fact that the water is unsafe for swimming. Basically, LOOK – but don’t TOUCH. So sad to see such beauty, and to discover that it is polluted to unacceptable levels. As I looked along Main Street in Betterton MD – I held tight to my vision that life is BETTER here. Just don’t swim in the water.
  • While Paddy preoccupied his time working on boat projects, I yearned for endorphins. I scanned google maps looking for the ideal bike route. Betterton, MD – with a whopping 6 streets and a public beach at the mouth of the Sassafras River stood out. Betterton. Yes, I liked the sound of this. I imagined that life was tranquil, slow to be precise – and that would be a good thing. Ideal, most likely. Simply better. Yes, life I imagined was indeed BETTER in Betterton. I simply had to explore this on my bike and see for myself.

    I left the marina at Georgetown Yacht Basin, and pedaled thru the towns of Galena, and Still Pond along lightly auto-traveled roads with wide shoulders perfect for biking, and landscapes lined with farms. The Maryland Eastern shore is delightfully undeveloped compared to it’s more populated and urban western shore. Tho, don’t let the relatively flat terrain fool you into thinking that this will be an easy-peazy bike ride. The headwinds are strong, and relentless. But, the headwinds didn’t matter, as I was en route to BETTERton and enjoying a high-octane endorphin ride on Ms. Madone.

    Within 45 minutes, I had reached the town line of Betterton. It was exactly as I had imagined. Large, old homes built in the early 1900’s lined the main street. I didn’t see any people or traffic during my 15 minute visit – but the people of Betterton were most likely taking a break and sipping tea. This is my vision of Betterton. I descended to the end of the road – which led straight to the Betterton public beach. The views were astounding. To the north – were the Susquehanna and Elk rivers – that fed into the Chesapeake Bay. To the east – is the winding Sassafras River. I spent a few moments absorbing the scenery.

    But wait – what are these signs posted along the beachfront? Upon closer inspection – I discovered that the beach was contaminated. This is due to the fact that the water is unsafe for swimming. Basically, LOOK – but don’t TOUCH. So sad to see such beauty, and to discover that it is polluted to unacceptable levels. As I looked along Main Street in Betterton MD – I held tight to my vision that life is BETTER here. Just don’t swim in the water.

  • Is traveling to Georgetown like time traveling into the past?
    It is and it ain’t.. Georgetown Yacht Basin is the only yard able to haul very beamy cats. So in the mid-Atlantic region GYB is THE destination for big cats.

  • Jane and I departed the dock at 1300 hrs. we had a very good 10-15kts from 045. close hauled we were making 7 and 8 until we reached the bay and the wind increased. We were nearly at the eastern shore and the weather was looking a little nazty so we turned back. This course change put on a starboard close reach to beam reach and we were making 9.5 to 10 constant. We were back at the dock before 1700. The GPS showed a top speed of 11.1 Many thanks to UK sails. I think we will be able to get after some regular 13s with these new rags.

    Did I mention that we have a problem with our starboard saildrive? we’re waiting in the haul out queue so we can get this fixed.

  • Now, I realize that it’s been awhile since we’ve skated “FAST” – but could we really be skating THIS slow?

    As Jill and I descended toward the lite rail train tracks…the train lights began flashing, and the barricades descended – stopping all traffic. No problem. We waited for the train to pass. No sooner had the train passed, and the barricades lifted….we though we were making forward propulsion.

    Nope. The lights began flashing again, and the barricade walls were tumblin down. Rut row. Now we are on the WRONG side of the barricades — you know the side where the trains move thru. But we are stuck…and cannot get back to the other side. Jill and I cling to each other and the train barricade- hoping the next train will miss us. We really must work on our skate speed.


  • In the process of performing rudimentary skate maintenance, one very small – but necessary – skate bolt managed to disappear.

    This gave Tami and I the opportunity to:

    • broach the subject of replacing Tami’s 10 year old skates with ones that have standard parts
    • discuss expanding Tami’s repair toolkit beyond 2 q-tips
    • consider skating on 3 wheels instead of 4 if the missing bolt cannot be located
    • talk philosophically about the concept of “letting go”

    Fortunately, the missing bolt was discovered INSIDE of Tam’s car….and we proceeded to enjoy a delightful skate, great vibe and apres-sk8 foods at the BWI loop – as only longtime dear friends can do.

  • Wed 8/26/2009 The winds were light – but it didn’t matter. We simply HAD to get away from the dock. With new sails installed, sika fully cured, and my triathlon now OVER — we headed out of the Patapsco River. Our destination would be Hart Miller Island for an overnight rendezvous with fellow CAT travel companions Becky & Bob & family on “Our White Magic”.

    It seemed as if we had to re-learn how to sail. The halyard was h— bent on twisting and turning in unnatural ways – so Captain Pat spent a fair amount of time correcting this – while I piloted Cat Maudy out of the harbor. Then, all of the reef points had to be re-aligned — since the new sails were installed.

    But all was good. The winds were light so we weren’t taxed tryting to make adjustments and remember all of the other nuances that go with sailing. Bob and Becky, aboard Our White Magic were in the “same boat” on their Catana 47′ so to speak. We were all busy fixing things…and slowing making our way to the mouth of the Patapsco.

    Spent the night anchored in front of the Hart Miller Island beach front – a delightful remote area only accessable via boat. I kayaked to shore to get a bit of endorphins…and in the evening watched the setting sun. We dinghed to Our White Magic for delightful conversation….to finish a perfect day.

    Thursday 8/27/2009: With the winds picking up – it was time to bring up the anchors, and sail somewhere. Anywhere. Annapolis was selected as the destination. We started sailing to some robust speeds…when suddenly we slowed as if we were dragging anchor. And we were. Well, not our anchor…but we caught the line of a crabpot.

    After 2 miles of crabpot dragging, it was time to figure out a strategy for setting this contraption free. I wanted to luff…and then move in reverse. Captain Pat had his own ideas. Usually these ideas consist of doing some Jacques Cousteau dive under the boat – which I was already prepared to overrule. But instead, he opted to “fish” for the line with the boat hook. I tried doing this by standing over the port side rudder, but couldn’t seem to connect with anything but water. So, we tethered Captain Pat to the boat, and after a few tries – the boat hook notched the crab line. I grabbed a knife, and we set the crabpot free. Some crab fisherman out there would not be happy with us… Hopefully the little crabs inside can find an escape hatch! *** Special Note to the Crab fishermen north of Hart Miller Island — your crab pots are NOT lined up in any order! Makes is nearly impossible to navigate this area without coming into contact with your crab lines. Maybe tidy this up a bit and you won’t lose pots to boaters like us who simply cannot get around the crab minefield you create! Just a friendly thought!

    By now, Our White Magic was long gone. With more sail area, and a longer reach (47′) we were no match to try and keep up. Eventually we’ll find them in Annapolis!

    The winds were delightful – making a perfect sailing day. We re-convened with Our White Magic – and dropped anchors just off of the Naval Academy in Annapolis, MD. Just in time too – as monohull sailors who had spent the day racing – returned to port. They made sure we noticed their sail handling skills, as they sailed within inches of our bow and stern…as if our boats didn’t even exist. It was quite entertaining. By now, we are exhausted, and opt to crash early.

    Friday 8/28/2009: There is talk about Hurricane Danny moving in. Maybe we need to return back to Baltimore? First, we head to shore…for my endorphins (run thru the Naval Academy), Captain Pat’s coffee…and showers.

    Just before noon, we depart from our anchorage in Annapolis. Light winds during the first portion of the day…quickly evaporated to no winds. We motored much of the way back to Baltimore. Just in time for Hurricane Danny to arrive.


  • I departed Cat Maudy at dockside at 4:30AM, still wiping pixie dust from my eyes. After all the media hype, reading up on nutrition, endless days of multi sport training, running 5K races, hours of studying bike technique (yes Lance – it IS about riding an expensive bike)…it all boiled down to getting your girl on for Iron Girl Sunday 8/23/2009.

    With Hurricane Bill dumping buckets of suds late Saturday – it was not looking like the weather would be friendly for Sunday. Jill, Holly and I racked our ‘spensive (for our budgets) bicycles in the transition area early evening Saturday – during a downpour. Plastic bags covered the handlebars, saddle and chain – and we walked away hoping that our chains wouldn’t turn to rust during the next 12 hours.

    Using the power of 2400 women encouraging Hurricane Bill to move on — Iron Girl Sunday proved to be ideal (maybe a bit muggy? but who’s complaining!) for a sprint TRI. The rains had stopped, temperatures cooled to the low 70’s, and the pavement was beginning to dry on the roads. Traffic was completely jammed by 5:30AM. Jill and Holly were the first to arrive into Centennial Park. Seriously, THE first to arrive. I’m pretty sure they received gold stars in grade school for punctuality. Jane, Emma and cameraman Mike arrived next. After 6 or 7 phone calls to somewhat GPS challenged Divina – we found her wandering aimlessly in circles near the porta-potties. At that point I kept a death-grip on our little mermaid swimmer – to ensure she got to the swim start on time.

    Next stop…body marking. Jill and Holly arrived at the body marking stage before the magic markers had been issued to the volunteers. When you participate in the Iron Girl TRI – your calf is marked with your AGE, and your shoulders, wrist and other calf is marked with your bib number. This comes in quite handy in case you get lost, and forget how old you are.

    True to form, Jill and Holly locked in an early wave start. Just minutes after the pro wave, J&H were grouped with approximately 400 other femmes – the largest wave in the Iron Girl event. Jill rushed to the front of the swimmer wave – to be the first in the water (no surprise here!) , and avoid the mayhem once all of the swimmers began splashing. In record 24 minute time – Jill popped outta the algae green lake – and ran up the hill to the transition area to her bike. Not far behind was Holly – chewing on lake grasses, and glad to be done with the swim.

    Jill managed to bike and run at warp speed. So fast, that her timing chip, worn around her ankle – never registered. It doesn’t matter. We know. She completed a personal best of 2 hours and 20 minutes. That’s smokin. Holly completed her first triathlon under 3 hours. Sizzle sizzle! What is more amazing, is that these ladies had the energy to party well into the evening – and score style points on the hula hoop rock climb event in Ellicott City.

    Emma, Divina and I were grouped with the very LAST wave of athletes. This gave the sun ample time to rise and crank up the heat. It also gives us lots of time to stand around, mimic Terry’s stretching program, watch the other athletes…and wonder if it will EVER be our time to participate. Divina, having trained for many months…stepped into the water…and FINALLY the LAST wave of swimmers were off. Emma and I took off for the transition area.

    By now, most of the athletes had already been out on the bike course, and others were even finishing the run. As I waited for Divina to finish her swim, I quickly scouted out my bike competition. To my right…was a mountain bike. No competition there. To my left…a Cervelo with race wheels. Easily a $6K bike. hmmm. This might be a challenge – but my Ms. Trek Madone bike was ready. My bro even pumped up the tires. That’s a bonus in my world. Here comes Divina. My stopwatch is ready…it’s showtime. I ran up the hill with my bike, and crossed over the transition area. It took a bit longer to get clipped in – since my bike shoes were caked in mud. Eventually, I got clipped in…hit my stopwatch…and I’m off.

    Focused the first few miles on breathing, heart rate, cadence (RPM) and the little digital readout on my speedometer. This is my personal motivator, and the feedback never ceases. Needed to keep the little numbers high, and my heart rate low. A bit of a challenge on this hilly course – but the first few miles were critical to “not overdoing it”. Needed juice in the tank for the 4 climbs, and numerous uphill grinds.

    Being the last wave to depart, there were plenty of bikers in front of me. Every biker in front of me…I needed to pass. I don’t know why this is. It just IS. I passed approximately 150 bikers in that 17.5 mile route – for an average pace of 18+mph. Stopwatch reads 56 min & 16 seconds. Nearly 2 min better than my prior personal best. Moral of the story – ask big Bro to pump up your bike tires b4 you ride!

    As I hopped off of my bike, and ran thru the transition area..I was met by Emma – who was FIRED up for her sprint/run. She had the timing chip off my ankle in record time – and before I could part any inspirational words…she was out of sight! Emma is a marathon runner, and we had talked about her running this 3.4 miles at her personal record pace. I didn’t realize she took this conversation seriously!

    Emma surprised all of us, including herself – when she raced across the finish line in a blistering 8:51 minute per mile pace. Our IG relay time took 11th place (out of 57 teams). More sizzle sizzle!


    The paparazzi and support team of Chuck, Steve, Mike, Paddy, Terry, Danielle, Donna, Trung, Minh, Lamie, Jannett, Tami & Barry (wow!!) had their hands full trying to keep tabs on their IG athletes. With an estimated crowd of 10,000 and the entire Howard County Police force herding spectators and vehicles — it was difficult to move from one event (swim, bike or run) to the next. Yet somehow, the support team managed to find parking, make us laugh, show up at awfully early hours for this spectacle, cheer us on, snap pictures, and be *just* in the right spot so that we actually heard them cheering for us-when we needed to hear those voices. You guys ROCK!

    Looking forward to Tami, Lamie and Minh joining the IG sistahood of Jill, Holly, Divina, Emma & Jane next year. Let the training begin 😉


  • I departed Cat Maudy at dockside at 4:30AM, still wiping pixie dust from my eyes. After all the media hype, reading up on nutrition, endless days of multi sport training, running 5K races, hours of studying bike technique (yes Lance – it IS about riding an expensive bike)…it all boiled down to getting your girl on for Iron Girl Sunday 8/23/2009.

    With Hurricane Bill dumping buckets of suds late Saturday – it was not looking like the weather would be friendly for Sunday. Jill, Holly and I racked our ‘spensive (for our budgets) bicycles in the transition area early evening Saturday – during a downpour. Plastic bags covered the handlebars, saddle and chain – and we walked away hoping that our chains wouldn’t turn to rust during the next 12 hours.

    Using the power of 2400 women encouraging Hurricane Bill to move on — Iron Girl Sunday proved to be ideal (maybe a bit muggy? but who’s complaining!) for a sprint TRI. The rains had stopped, temperatures cooled to the low 70’s, and the pavement was beginning to dry on the roads. Traffic was completely jammed by 5:30AM. Jill and Holly were the first to arrive into Centennial Park. Seriously, THE first to arrive. I’m pretty sure they received gold stars in grade school for punctuality. Jane, Emma and cameraman Mike arrived next. After 6 or 7 phone calls to somewhat GPS challenged Divina – we found her wandering aimlessly in circles near the porta-potties. At that point I kept a death-grip on our little mermaid swimmer – to ensure she got to the swim start on time.

    Next stop…body marking. Jill and Holly arrived at the body marking stage before the magic markers had been issued to the volunteers. When you participate in the Iron Girl TRI – your calf is marked with your AGE, and your shoulders, wrist and other calf is marked with your bib number. This comes in quite handy in case you get lost, and forget how old you are.

    True to form, Jill and Holly locked in an early wave start. Just minutes after the pro wave, J&H were grouped with approximately 400 other femmes – the largest wave in the Iron Girl event. Jill rushed to the front of the swimmer wave – to be the first in the water (no surprise here!) , and avoid the mayhem once all of the swimmers began splashing. In record 24 minute time – Jill popped outta the algae green lake – and ran up the hill to the transition area to her bike. Not far behind was Holly – chewing on lake grasses, and glad to be done with the swim.

    Jill managed to bike and run at warp speed. So fast, that her timing chip, worn around her ankle – never registered. It doesn’t matter. We know. She completed a personal best of 2 hours and 20 minutes. That’s smokin. Holly completed her first triathlon under 3 hours. Sizzle sizzle! What is more amazing, is that these ladies had the energy to party well into the evening – and score style points on the hula hoop rock climb event in Ellicott City.

    Emma, Divina and I were grouped with the very LAST wave of athletes. This gave the sun ample time to rise and crank up the heat. It also gives us lots of time to stand around, mimic Terry’s stretching program, watch the other athletes…and wonder if it will EVER be our time to participate. Divina, having trained for many months…stepped into the water…and FINALLY the LAST wave of swimmers were off. Emma and I took off for the transition area.

    By now, most of the athletes had already been out on the bike course, and others were even finishing the run. As I waited for Divina to finish her swim, I quickly scouted out my bike competition. To my right…was a mountain bike. No competition there. To my left…a Cervelo with race wheels. Easily a $6K bike. hmmm. This might be a challenge – but my Ms. Trek Madone bike was ready. My bro even pumped up the tires. That’s a bonus in my world. Here comes Divina. My stopwatch is ready…it’s showtime. I ran up the hill with my bike, and crossed over the transition area. It took a bit longer to get clipped in – since my bike shoes were caked in mud. Eventually, I got clipped in…hit my stopwatch…and I’m off.

    Focused the first few miles on breathing, heart rate, cadence (RPM) and the little digital readout on my speedometer. This is my personal motivator, and the feedback never ceases. Needed to keep the little numbers high, and my heart rate low. A bit of a challenge on this hilly course – but the first few miles were critical to “not overdoing it”. Needed juice in the tank for the 4 climbs, and numerous uphill grinds.

    Being the last wave to depart, there were plenty of bikers in front of me. Every biker in front of me…I needed to pass. I don’t know why this is. It just IS. I passed approximately 150 bikers in that 17.5 mile route – for an average pace of 18+mph. Stopwatch reads 56 min & 16 seconds. Nearly 2 min better than my prior personal best. Moral of the story – ask big Bro to pump up your bike tires b4 you ride!

    As I hopped off of my bike, and ran thru the transition area..I was met by Emma – who was FIRED up for her sprint/run. She had the timing chip off my ankle in record time – and before I could part any inspirational words…she was out of sight! Emma is a marathon runner, and we had talked about her running this 3.4 miles at her personal record pace. I didn’t realize she took this conversation seriously!

    Emma surprised all of us, including herself – when she raced across the finish line in a blistering 8:51 minute per mile pace. Our IG relay time took 11th place (out of 57 teams). More sizzle sizzle!


    The paparazzi and support team of Chuck, Steve, Mike, Paddy, Terry, Danielle, Donna, Trung, Minh, Lamie, Jannett, Tami & Barry (wow!!) had their hands full trying to keep tabs on their IG athletes. With an estimated crowd of 10,000 and the entire Howard County Police force herding spectators and vehicles — it was difficult to move from one event (swim, bike or run) to the next. Yet somehow, the support team managed to find parking, make us laugh, show up at awfully early hours for this spectacle, cheer us on, snap pictures, and be *just* in the right spot so that we actually heard them cheering for us-when we needed to hear those voices. You guys ROCK!

    Looking forward to Tami, Lamie and Minh joining the IG sistahood of Jill, Holly, Divina, Emma & Jane next year. Let the training begin 😉

  • All of this news chatter about my inability to swim last year and somehow completing a TRI…is now getting under my skin. Local media wants to talk about someone who overcomes big odds….but this is just downright embarrassing. As soon as this interview is over, I’m dusting off my “how to swim” videos – and make a note to SELF to move beyond the sidestroke by the end of September. Freestyle would be nice. I CAN do this.

    So, I agreed to another Iron Girl promo spot – at the ABC local studio in Baltimore. It was actually kindof cool seeing how the news is put together behind the scenes. I also had the chance to meet Judy Molnar, VP with Iron Girl. Judy completed the IRON MAN triathlon – and is now working behind the scenes with Aflac Iron Girl to get women out and movin‘ about. She is extremely nice, and is kind enuf to help settle my nerves. There are ALOT of cameras in this studio. And then there is hubby Paddy along with Terry – our friend from NYC. With his mini-videoCAM. Terry is everywhere. Filming my every move.

    A segment on penguins at the local zoo is aired moments before the IG segment. The penguin is adorable, and I forget about what I might say on the air. I think only about petting the cute little African penguin.

    The floor manager calls up Judy and I – and we move to position behind a podium. Jaime Costello will be doing the interview. My thoughts turn to how soft the penguin was. Ok ok…time to think about Iron Girl stuff. I guess Jaime didn’t get the cue card that said I was a participant in the Iron Girl. He asks me how many participants are in the IG event this year. I have no clue, and put out my best deer in headlights impression. Fortunately, Judy hopped on my deer-dummy look and promptly answered the question. After that, Jaime figured it out. I get the “participant” questions…and Judy gets the “administrative” questions.

    Here we go, more questions about my swimming. I say nice things about the IG event. It really is a great event. Women of all athletic abilities doing some amazing stuff. But, I’m done with the media hype now. That’s it. I’m gonna learn how to swim now. Really. Stay tuned – to THIS channel.

  • What started out as a minor “CLEW” repair, morphed into needing new sails. The clew, is the end of the main sail, that attaches to the stern end of the boom. It looked like the attachment had worn out…but apparently the entire sail had no life left in her.

    So, while Cat Maudy was down with window repairs – might as well add new sails, to our list of where to spend dwindling funds.

    We selected UK Sails in Annapolis as our sail makers – for a number of reasons:

    1. They have a local LOFT where they do all of the work themselves. i.e. they don’t ship out the sail making work to cheap labor overseas or at caribbean islands. Every bit of sail making is done right HERE.

    2. We can visit at any time, ask questions, and become completely familiar with the process. From selecting the sail material…to understanding how they will remake the sail to offer us maximum performance…we were part of the team.

    3. They seemed passionate about making sails. Really passionate. It’s not just a “job” to them – they are sailors, and they want you to be delighted with their handiwork.

    Shortly after the windows were installed…the sail making was complete. Dave, from UK Sails arrives to install the main sail. The sail installation was a success, but due to an intense afternoon thunderstorm, the decision was made to wait on installing the jib sail until a few minor maintenance tasks were done.

    When friend Terry from NYC arrives for a visit, it seems like the perfect time to complete the jib sail installation. We hoist Terry up the jib stay to first LUBE the track….and tighten down some of the screws that were too loose. As we start the process now of hoisting the jib — we realize that the sheaves appear to be worn out – and are trashing the jib halyard.

    Jib sail installation is temporarily aborted, while Terry and Pat rush off to West Marine for replacement parts. I take the opportunity to go for a swim. I realize this doesn’t sound helpful to the project, but I’m much nicer to be around when I’ve had endorphins. Nuf said.

    The boys return with new parts…and these are installed. Finally, we are ready to re-hoist the crispy jib sail. Up she goes, flapping with crispy sounds, white as can be – and looking stunning. Soon, we will leave the dock – and see what she’s got!

  • Cat Maudy stays “dockside” during my triathlon training season. Since Cat Maudy was broken, Captain Pat was preoccupied with making boat repairs. I could have assisted him, but I am far more pleasant to be around with I get in my exercise. Thus, for 3 summer months, not a day goes by where training (swim, bike and run) becomes the priority of my day.

    There must have been a serious LULL in the local media, or perhaps it was my sad swim story from last year’s Iron Girl? Whatever the reason, I was asked to meet with local NBC (WBAL) to help them do a promo spot for the Iron Girl event.

    It wasn’t until they said that I could come with my bike, that I agreed to do a clip. And of course, my TRI-Sistahood (Jill & Emma) were there for support, along with hubby paparazzi Paddy.

    Soon, it was my turn to ramble on the news. Not exactly sure what I blathered about – talking to a camera is not my forte. I was hoping to inspire the non-swimmers out there to give the Iron Girl a try. But secretly, I couldn’t wait to hop on my bike. My bike is a far better spokesperson than I – and Ms. Trek Madone was just bustin’ to lay it all out for Mr. Cameraman.

    View the video clip on WBAL (search for “Iron Girl” – and to find the clip)

  • Months ago, when researching HOW to install acrylic windows with SIKA 295UV – Captain Pat ended up having a conversation with the Sika Eastern Seaboard Tech Rep. aka…Mr. Sika himself.

    During this conversation we learned:
    1. No person or boat yard in the mid-Atlantic is certified in properly installing Sikaflex
    2. Any boat yard that tells you they know how to install Sika – knows about as much as you do
    3. We have just as much chance at being successful in installing our own boat windows with Sika – as the nearest boat yard that wants to charge you $100 per hour for labor.

    By reading and printing installation instructions provided by Sika, and tapping the knowledge of our Acrylic man Greg at Precision Plastics – we were fairly confident that:

    a) we could follow directions as good as anyone else
    b) it was now time to roll up our boat sleeves – and create a Sika certifi-able windows installation.

    One minor detail. The windows that we had fabricated by Precision Plastics – did not fit. It appears that the new design change (adding hatches and fiberglass work), plus subtle changes to the shape of the acrylics once removed from our boat – resulted in new windows that were sized too large.

    The discovery of the OVERSIZED windows occurred the day that Captain Pat went offshore with a crew doing a boat delivery – and was unreachable. This meant I was in charge. This meant that I made technical decisions for Cat Maudy. This job is far above my pay grade. I couldn’t imagine what to do. I have Clifton at Tidewater saying that the windows don’t fit….and Greg at Precision Plastics telling me we would have to make a whole new mold. Making a mold is out of the question. If the mold from the old windows was no good — we just didn’t have the expertise to make it any better. So, I did what any Captain Jane would do. I became very blonde, and begged Greg to help a damsel in distress.

    Greg agreed to come to visit our boat and windows, and make a recommendation. What a lovely man. I waited patiently that afternoon for his arrival. Within 2 hours of my frantic phone call – Greg arrived to inspect the windows and offer his feedback. “These aren’t so bad” he commented. “We can fix this”. Music to my ears. We mark up the new dimensions for the windows – and place all 8 windows in Greg’s van. He has to re-fabricate…now we wait 2 weeks for the windows to be refitted.

    By now, Captain Pat has returned back from his boat delivery, and we depart from Tidewater – to return back to our home port in Anchorage Marina. We wait….and wait….and finally – the windows are READY.

    The weekend before my Iron Girl triathlon event, turns out to be a weather window that will be perfect for installing sikaflex. No rain…hot…humid…but no rain. I finish my athleta-workouts by 8:30 am…and back at the boat by 9AM to begin the Sika install process.

    The PROCESS for installing sikaflex windows is ALL consuming. Here is a recap

    • remove all tape and plastic around each window that was used for months to keep out the rain
    • use special adhesive remover to make sure not a smidge of adhesive is left
    • wipe the perimeter of each window down with alcohol
    • tape the inside fiberglass…and outside fiberglass frame for each portal
    • tape the inside window boundary and outside window boundary
    • paint fiberglass primer anywhere the sikaflex would be applied
    • rub the window border with scotch brite to rough it up
    • wipe down the window border to remove any scotch brite residue
    • paint special black paint primer on the acrylic anywhere the sikaflex would be applied
    • wait 30 minutes for the paint to dry
    • create a V shape in the nozzle used to form the sikaflex bead
    • have a LOT of latex gloves handy
    • have a garbage bucket handy – sika is very messy
    • fire up your battery powered electric caulk gun (do not try to use a hand caulk gun!)
    • insert the sika tube
    • make 3 line beads on the fiberglass
    • take your black SIKA spacers that you made months ago – and stick them in various key spots along the sika bead – so that when you apply pressure, you will have an even space between the window and the fiberglass
    • use pre-made starboard spacers (sika won’t adhere to these) positioned at the base of each window – so that gravity won’t let the window slide down
    • carefully place the window to the Sika – so that it adheres. Push around the entire border
    • grab that tube of Sika…and start backfilling
    • smooth out the backfill so that there are no gaps for water to leak in
    • pull the tape off the borders VERY CAREFULLY (inside and out) and don’t let any sika land on the fiberglass or acrylics
    • admire your work for about 10 seconds
    • repeat all of the above for 7 more windows – with a few exceptions…
    • IF the window seems to bow a bit…wrap up a bag of mulch from your local Home Depot in a soft cotton sheet…tie this up so that it can lay on the window without touching the sika

    The boat must now sit at the dock for 7 days – while the sika “cures”. I’m very glad to sit – well, not really – I have to get in my final few days of training for the Iron Girl. At least I’m not bending over in awkward positions squirting out sika beads. We quickly remove all blue tarp remnants.

    9/6/2009 Update: The true test – is the window LEAK test. By now 3 weeks have passed since the sika installation. We haven’t had ONE itsy bitsy leak, and we have sailed and put stress on the boat. So, I am feeling sika “certified” or at least sika “qualified” and would be happy to give boat yards advice on properly installing sikaflex. For $100 per hour of course!


  • The Iron Girls made their official debut at the “Dress Rehearsal” event for a workout of swim and run at 6AM in Centennial Park. Over 1000 ladies participating in this year’s Columbia Iron Girl event on Aug 23 – were here for the trial event.

    Our individual event sista-hood included Jill and Holly, and the relay event sista’s Divina (Little Mermaid), Jane on bike, and Emma with wings on her feet were ready for the challenge. For today’s event, it would be a test for the swimmers to get the flavor of open water swim, and a quick transition to the run. No biking today (unless you wanted to brave Route 108 in rush hour traffic).

    Despite a LOT of women in the water, all swimmers completed the 1250 yard course (150 yards longer than race day). Swimming observations include:
    -Jill didn’t get her heart rate above 45bpm
    -Emma remains the ideal swim buddy, never leaving her partner’s side
    -Divina wasn’t the least bit winded, and is ready to take on the elite swimmers
    -Holly wanted to know if she could go back IN the water and swim the 1250 yards AGAIN

    Jill and Holly were in the early swim wave, and got their run finished in plenty of time to take a shower and begin the feasting activities EARLY at Eggspection Restaurant. Emma and I got a late start on the run – which meant the humidity was high, and there was excessive sweating along the challenging 3.4 mile course. Thus, whoever sat next to Emma and I at breakfast, got a real treat of bad air!

    The rehearsal event was a complete success, and we are all inspired to train harder and smarter (except for Emma who already runs at warp speed) for the next 3 weeks – til event day!

  • Monday 7/27 My inner voice screams “walk away”!

    I’ve known Captain Bill for years. He has done hundreds of east coast deliveries, many east coast to the islands, the islands to the east coast, and one trans-Atlantic delivery. He is levelheaded, even tempered, completely competent, and has every quality required for a captain on a long offshore trek. Together we made a late September delivery from Hilton Head Island to Annapolis. That particular boat was a circa 80’s Mason 44 cutter rigged sloop. If I was going to have a tippy boat this one would be on my list. The Mason sailed very nicely and stood up well to a blow. The only thing I didn’t like about the Mason 44 was the weird off center companion way leading from the cockpit to the salon, the settee seating wasn’t very comfortable for sleeping, and with a full keel maneuverability in tight spaces is not so good. Otherwise, the Mason is a great boat.

    This delivery is of a 45 ton 65 foot ketch built in 1981 named Lady Magdaline. Lady “M” for short. We will soon discover “M” stands for “Malfunction”. Or maybe “Meltdown”. You decide. Anyway, it is a custom one-off. The construction is stainless steel mesh re-enforced fiberglass. Say that five times too fast only if you have your health insurance card firmly in hand. The boat is in Fort Pierce, Fl and the destination is New Rochelle, NY.

    I’m Pat, the first mate for this delivery. I met Captain Bill at BWI early in the morning. Our flight is on time and we are in West Palm Beach by 1100 hours but, the owner is late. The owner arrives at 1140 hours and we depart the airport.

    We’re at the Pelican Yacht Club Marina at 1300 hours and start boat inspection. The boat is an older boat, and like I said, “45 TONS.” It has a massive bow sprit and is somewhat reminiscent of a Formosa or a Vagabond with the exception that it has a broad reverse stern. It is looking rough on deck. I’m used to boats that look a little rough; they may look a little rough but, are generally serviceable. On this boat the standing rigging is new, so that’s cool. There is old and new running rigging the owner has two 500’ spools of nylon braid to make up new rigging as required. That’s also cool. It’s encouraging that the owner has supplies on board and is actively working to upgrade.

    The mizzen mast has a thimble sized halyard winch. Oh my. The wire halyard is ultra corroded. The rust blows off the wire when the wind gusts. I suggest to Captain Bill that we cut this wire and replace it with some of the new nylon. He agrees but points out that the fix my actually be more problematic than the rusty wire so, we leave it. The head sails hank on. Oh my. Captain Bill and the owner of Lady “M” go below to discuss the engines. It has 2 Perkins 50 hp diesels. Two engines, that’s redundant. The fact that the engines share the raw water strainer and intake through hull, well, that is not so redundant.

    The boat has two rudders; a main rudder and small so-called trim rudder. I ask the owner if there is an emergency tiller for the main rudder. No you can use the trim rudder in an emergency. Oh okay.

    Mike and Kyle arrive. Mike’s training is in mechanical engineering and he likes to tie knots. Mike particularly likes to tie the “Truck’s Hitch.” Kyle , a recent college grad, has just sold his fishing business and is working on accruing sea time so that he can get his Ticket. Kyle arrives with the “original deckhand”; a deckhand who at the last minute couldn’t do the trip. Kyle is rooming at the same “crew house” in Lauderdale with the original Kyle.


    The owner and Captain Bill show me the engine shutoffs. The engine room is located directly below the cockpit. To get to the engine room you descend the companion way stairs and make a left past the galley sink and stove. Walk down a short passageway then make a left into the engine room. At the far end of the engine room door is a sturdy wood workbench piled with, well; I don’t what is piled on it, just stuff. To get to the engine level you squeeze through an opening between some loose pipes and drop down 20 inches to the engine bed floor. This is a difficult thing in port much less in seas. The owner had to help me get down the first time.


    “Oh don’t touch that”, he said and then “Noooo, don’t touch that either.” Finally, he says, “Just jump.”

    The weather forecast is so favorable that I’m discounting the negatives about the condition of the boat and the jungle gym engine room. We move back to the salon and review some of the SOLAS gear. EPIRB, first-aid kit (lacking some real basics), flares and signals, and then the master shows us the small red square vinyl life-raft pack. Captain Bill looked at me and I puckered my lips and mouthed, “No.”

    Somehow I came to my senses when I saw the life-raft pack. Literally this pack was 3 inches deep by 12 inches by 12 inches and might weigh 15 pounds. I was shocked to see this and thought repeatedly, “What the heck is that thing?” Perhaps it opens into a miniature swimming pool for toddlers?? I couldn’t believe that a life raft could fit in a package that small. For a moment I tried to suspend my disbelief and marvel at the compact size. But no, it looks nasty as if the master found it at an army surplus store. The word “Survival” is printed on the flat face of the small case and each time I look at the word I think, “Not!”

    The color and appearance of the vinyl case have “OLD THING” written in neon block letters. I imagine that once inflated it takes the shape of a rudder ducky and quacks when you move around in it. And that the flare gun is located in a pouch in the back of the ducky head and you must shoot the flares out of the ducky mouth. Oh my.

    It is surplus life raft intended for personal aircraft. The owner says that it has been recently certified. “And you have the EPIRB,” he says. “This raft is rated for four people and you’ll not be that far offshore.” Well, “Not very far offshore” is kind of relative. If you can swim a mile and you are 5 nm offshore then you might as well be half way to the moon. Captain Bill is finished taking notes and leaves the boat to sit in a picnic area and call his partner. The owner has agreed to rent a modern fully equipped offshore 4 person lift raft. He also agrees to purchase some rigging items that Captain Bill thinks we should have. After Captain Bill’s conversation with his partner it is decided that the trip is on.

    Mike is inspecting the boat and recommends some items that should be replaced before we leave. Captain Bill and the owner are at the helm and Captain Bill starts the engines. They start up really well and the engines run great. Hey, great! Captain Bill has a problem working the engine controls and tries several times to engage the transmission on each engine. It is entirely possible that the starboard transmission engages about half the time during the whole trip. The owner shows Captain Bill how to shift the transmissions. The engine controls are abysmal. The engine shutoffs are de-installed in the helm station so you must go below to shutoff the engines at the engine, in other words; in the engine room.

    On the port engine there is the remnant of the old engine cable shutoff control. You must push this cable and pull it to leave it in a position such that the engine will start later. The starboard engine doesn’t even have this level of sophistication and the method for shutting this engine down is to remove the silencer over the air intake and cover it with your hand until you have choked the engine to death.

    I suggest that the owner purchase three or four medium to large plastic storage containers so we can stow all the junk in the engine room. The work bench in the engine room is piled high with tools and random parts like, pipe fittings, hose clamps, a couple gallons of the diesel motor oil. I tell Captain Bill that the boat has a 50/50 chance of making it to NY. I get the impression from his chuckle that he thinks I’m joking. The master insists that the diesels just sip fuel. We have 200 gallons.

    The crew pulls the sails out of the huge stern lazarette. Mike is taking the lead on this project. We take the sails to the shore and flake them to stow them back in the lazarette. Mike dives into to this project. Once the sail is stretched out we decide what it is and then we mark the tack with a sharpie pen. I can only say that the condition of the rags is such that you just hope you don’t have to go to windward.

    The owner says that the 8D marine battery for the house 12v system is dead and he has another battery in the car. So we go to the car and load the battery into a cart and then onto the boat and then into the engine room. This new battery is a lead acid battery so it may have about 225 amp hours. This will be enough for this little trip but I know that the owner and his wife are going to need considerably more battery power for real cruising. Of course the stern lazarette is so huge he could install a Fisher Panda diesel generator in there and that would solve most of his energy needs.

    He currently has a Honda 2000 gas generator. The owner and I go down onto the engine bed floor through the maze of pipes and hoses with no real hand hold and we muscle the battery onto the crude looking but strong plywood shelf. This shelf holds the house battery and a starter battery. 8D batteries weigh about 160 pounds. I don’t know where the other start battery is.


    The crew loads personal gear onto the boat and we sort out the sleeping arrangements and then start walking in search of a seafood restaurant that the owner’s wife, Magdeline of the boat recommended. It is closed and the market deli closes as we have finally backtracked to it and all that remains is the pizza joint. Oh my.


    Tuesday 7/28 “Rock on Brotherhood”

    That’s my mantra. Ms. Magdeline shows up in the morning. The owner is working on some business stuff at the motel. Kyle and I go to the marine chandlery and grocery store for parts and provisions. Ms. Magdeline will take us to shop. At the chandlery we are picking the parts we need and Ms. Magdeline informs me that we should buy the cheaper parts. I think, “There are no cheaper parts,” but ok we’ll get the cheapest parts.

    Captain Bill has estimated the cost of parts to be $100 but the total is $300.
    There is plenty of discussion about this. A cell-phone rings and Captain Bill is calling. Another cell-phone rings and the owner is calling. I have a cell-phone for each ear. We buy $300 worth of stuff in the end.

    Ms. Magdeline will leave Kyle and I to grocery shop.
    She says to call when we are in the checkout line. This is the long shopping experience. After 2 hours we’re in the checkout line I call Ms Magdeline. She says that she is not at the boat and will go the boat to get Captain Bill. I call Captain Bill. “Captain, I’m through the checkout line. I’m standing guard over 4 shopping carts and the checkout person is waiting for the money. Yeah, the checkout person is tapping her foot and the store manager is giving us the eye, and the frozen chicken is gone to thaw and walkin’ away.”

    “Aye Pat, I’ll be right there.”


    The weather has been fantastic.
    This is the most pleasant summer weather I can remember in a long time and when we return to Lady “M” there is very nice Southie breeze and it doesn’t exactly feel like summer in Florida. We load grocery bags from three of the shopping carts into the car and I offer to stay behind and wait for the second trip. After the second trip we cart the groceries to Lady “M” and then provisions are loaded onto the boat. The owner arrives and sets up a flat hose to fresh water fill. There is more discussion in the salon so I go below. After some time I remark to the owner that I see water in the acrylic inspection plate of the water tank and ask if it is full. He says, “looks full.” Then goes to dock to shut off the water and stow the hose.

    We have set our departure time for 1700 hrs.
    We all gather in the cockpit for pictures and then the owner wants to say a prayer.

    It reminds me of the welder-minister in Charleston whom I hired to do some repairs to the rigging on my boat.
    One day he came to the boat to show me some drawings and a couple of prototype pieces of plate aluminum. After discussing the work I lit a cigarette. The welder-minister told me that he had anointing oil and a prayer to cure my addiction to nicotine. “Sounds great! Rock on Brotherhood.” So he put some oil on my head prayed to Jesus to rid my body of the desire to smoke and cleanse me of this evil. The owner of Lady M says a prayer is very thoughtful and I’m hoping much more effective than the stop-smoking-prayer.

    Captain Bill starts the engines.
    The owner and his wife walk to the parking lot. The crew struggles to free the lines off the pilings. The lines are old running rigging that is straining and creaking as Captain Bill tries to position the boat so that the crew can loosen the line. We struggle with this for about 20 minutes. These lines are wrapped, knotted, and folded over each other and it seems as if they have been in place for years. I’m thinking, “Geeezuz please give me the strength to loosen this knot and free this good ship from the life it knows at this here Pelican Yacht Club. Thank you Geeezuz, thank you lawd.”

    The owner returns and says, “Just cut the lines and leave them behind.” Captain Bill isn’t sure he has shifted the boats starboard engine into gear and struggles with it until it seems to be thrusting. The crew in a pirate-like fashion takes rigging knives to the dock lines and Lady “M” is free.
    As we make way out of Fort Pierce inlet we know that there is ebb tide running and can thus see that our six knots is really about four knots. This is very discouraging. Once out of the inlet sure enough we’re doing about 4.5 kts over land. We start putting on some sail and things pick-up a bit but we are still looking at less than 7 knots on a 10-15 knot day.

    We start our first watch rotation and declare dinner a free-for-all.
    Captain Bill lays out the shift rotation:

    0400-0600
    First Mate (Pat)
    0600-0800 Mike
    0800-1000 Captain Bill
    1000-1200 Kyle
    1200-1400- Pat
    1400-1600- Mike
    1600-1800 Captain Bill
    1800-2000 Kyle
    2000-2200 Pat
    2200-0000 Mike
    0000-0200 Captain Bill
    0200-0400 Kyle

    The steering is stiff!
    Right away you know this delivery is going to be work. To keep the boat on course everyone except Kyle is struggling. Ha! Hats off to the newbie!

    It is very beautiful night will a haze over Fort Pierce as it slowing slips below the horizon and the sun drenched afternoon fades to night. Captain Bill charted a series of GPS waypoints which followed the historic average center of the Gulf Stream. I set a rhumb-line course to Cape Hatteras and Captain Bill requests a course change stating that we need as much of an advantage as we can get with this boat.

    Aye captain. Rock on Brotherhood.

    Wednesday 7/29 Just Chillin’

    We have food freezing in a Styrofoam container which has about 10 pounds of dry ice in it. The food prep plan is that breakfast and lunch you are to prepare your own meal but for dinner preparation each evening it is performed by a different person.

    Wednesday night (tonight) Captain Bill made spaghetti with sauce and jazzed it up sausage and veggies. By 2100 we were well offshore on latitude with Jacksonville, FL. We determined that we made 150 nm the first 24 hours. I was impressed I didn’t think the boat would make 100 nm a day.

    The crew is in the groove and the watch rotation is very good with 2 hours on and 6 hours off, man, everyone is relaxed and taking it all in stride.

    Thursday 7/30. Lady “M” melts down

    Sometime during the day I went down to use the head and noticed that water was running into the bowl.
    There was water on the floor of head and I couldn’t get it to stop running. I activated the foot peddle and eventually the water stopped.
    I wear Keen brand deck shoes which have a closed toe and four leather straps which meet where there would be a tongue and the straps are laced together. The foot lever of the VacuFlush toilet should spring back into a closed position but the spring seems to be broken and the foot lever catches my shoe in such a way that I have to remove my shoe from my foot and then get on all fours to free the shoe from the toilet flushing lever.

    The toilet requires fresh water to operate. I’ve never used a VacuFlush toilet. What? The toilet used fresh water to flush? What? On a cruising boat? On a boat that is expected to travel to remote regions. What? On a boat that doesn’t have a water maker? On a boat that has a 100 gallon fresh water tank. Captain says, “there is another water tank somewhere on the boat.”

    “Who says so?” I ask.

    “The owner of the yacht.” Captain replies.
    Oh my.

    We discover that there isn’t any pressure in the fresh water system. Not sure why this is until I lift the cabin sole and look into the fresh water inspection glass. It appears that we are out of fresh water. I can see the curvature of the hull where it meets or becomes the keel.

    The crew is now using sea water for baths by taking the bucket to foredeck and dipping the bucket to about 3 gallons (24 pounds of water) hoisting it over the lifelines.
    Here is how you take a seawater bath on the foredeck. Get your bucket. This bucket should have strong handle and it should not leak and should have a 15 to 20 foot line attached to it so you can retrieve it from the sea. Throw the bucket overboard in such a way that the bucket lands on its side and starts to fill with seawater. Do not allow the bucket to fill completely with seawater as this would be about 50 pounds and the handle may break and you will lose your bucket.

    Our bucket, that is say our only bucket, has a split in the side.
    Mike is wondering what to use to repair the bucket. I suggest sail repair tape. Kyle gets the tape and Mike uses the tape to repair the bucket. We tape inside the crack, outside the crack, and then run a length of tape around the entire bucket. This is good.

    So the crew does the drill. And of course that drill is toss bucket over the side get the water, place bucket on deck, tip the bucket over onto your head, get thoroughly wet, soap up, and then rinse off.
    Works great! And the crew bathes.

    Sometime later and on my 1200 to 1400 watch the unmistakable odor of engine coolant comes steaming out the hatch in the cockpit.
    Captain says, “Shut the engines down, Pat.”

    “I can’t shut the engines down captain the shutoffs are below.”


    “Oh shit.” And then “Mike, get your foulies on you are I are going below.”
    Ok now think about this. The engines are spewing steam. Not just some water but stream. Like stream in the manner of the quintessential submarine movie where steam is jetting from the some obscure pipe. So Captain Bill and Mike must enter the engine room jump down on to the engine bed floor and gingerly shut the engines. The port engine is the engine with the partial cable and a wooden handle on the end and the starboard must be choked to death.

    This reminds me of a deer-hunter story.
    The father of one of my neighborhood friends enjoyed telling his story of how he wounded a white tail deer and then tracked the blood trail in the snow. Soon he found the deer lying in the snow exhausted from the hunt. Most people would shoot the animal to put it out of its misery. Not this guy. No way, not for him and the hunter drew his knife and finished the deer by hand. Oh my.

    I idle the engines but a geyser amount of steam is coming out of the hatch.
    Captain Bill and Mike return to cockpit and take off the foulies and let the engines cool down. After a while they go below and then reappear with the raw water strainer. It is plugged. So much for redundancy. They clean it in the taped bucket then place the strainer into service and call up for me to start the engines. We monitor the engine temp gauges. Soon we are back on track.

    We tried to run the Honda generator to cool down the AC refrigerator.
    Captain thinks there is something wrong with the AC refrigerator and he thinks we should cook the eggs. Mike and I cooked egg omelet dinner to use the eggs.

    Captain Bill wants to talk about diverting to Southport. Southport is the smallish fishing town off the Cape Fear River.
    We discuss it and decide that navigating the Cape Fear River may be tricky so we opt for Beaufort. The plan is to stay in Beaufort only long enough to take on water and fuel.

    Sitting in the cockpit we review the situation. We have rotting food in the AC refrigerator, no fresh water cleaning or for flushing the head, and problematic engine controls.

    Captain Bill asks to each of us crew in turn the following question. “what is the most dangerous part of this boat?

    Mike says, “Life lines.” Very true, the life lines are corroded and some of stanchion tops are separating. That’s right; I haven’t mentioned that Mike has lashed some of the life lines to stanchions with 1/8 inch nylon.

    Kyle says, “Leaving the inlet in Ft. Pierce.” This proclaimation qualifies him as the smartest guy on the boat.

    I say, “The steering.”



    Friday 7/31. An Oasis named Beaufort.

    It appears that the refrigerator is not working for some reason. We have been running the Honda generator twice a day but the refrigerator is getting very warm and is smelling bad.


    Captain Bill decides that we should head to Beaufort to get water and allow him to spend some time chatting with the owner about diverting the delivery to Sandy Hook NJ.
    I don’t think Lady “M” will make it up the east river but, I don’t say this.

    Captain Bill doesn’t think we will have time to make New Rochelle and is calculating the days including a stop in Beaufort. He thinks we can make Sandy Hook, NJ on Tuesday. We all agree and a course is set for Beaufort.

    We discuss the approach options for Beaufort and Captain Bill decides we will heave-to until morning. In daylight we will enter the harbor to get fresh water and fuel and start back out to round Cape Hatteras before dark.

    Lady “M” likes to heave-to and no one is surprised by this.

    Captain Bill is satisfied with the heave-to practice. He then turns the wheel to unlock us from the heave-to and the helm starts to free spin.
    Captain Bill is unable to control the boat. I look at Captain Bill and tell him that I don’t think I’ll able to go to Sandy Hook with him. He gives me a side glance. “Just saying”, I say.

    Kyle is on watch and my watch is coming up so I go to salon for a nap.
    I wake to find that Captain Bill and Mike have torn the granite top off the base that separates the two double beds. The granite is now stowed on end in the aft cabin head. Of course, the aft head is not working. The VacuFlush toilet in the aft head is being re-built.

    I look at the flat bar at the top of the rudder shaft and speculate out loud that there must be an emergency tiller that fits that flat bar. Kyle and I thrash around in the stern lazarette but find nothing. We find a dinghy paddle with an aluminum shaft and pass that down to Captain Bill and Mike in the aft stateroom. We attach the shaft of the paddle to the flat bar with hose clamps and it seems pretty good.

    Captain Bill, Mike, and I go up on deck and leave Kyle to steer with the paddle tiller but it breaks almost immediately. On the second fix Captain Bill finds a piece of rusted angle steel and we install that in place of the paddle handle. This contorts out of shape immediately and is not useable.

    Mike finds a hefty 2×4 and attaches that, it snaps in two pieces. Mike wants to try to perform a line lashing method and Captain Bill removes the cable guide pulleys on either side of the rudder shaft quadrant and reinserts the pulley pin. This creates an attachment point for a line on either side of the quadrant to limit the movement of rudder. This shows promise and Mike continues to tweak the lines until he is able to restrict the movement of the rudder. He then attaches one end of a block and tackle to the flat bar at the top of the rudder shaft. Now we are able to fly the staysail and make sonething like a course.

    Mike and I are sitting in the cockpit. I look back at the mizzen boom and notice that the boom has separated from the goose neck on the mast. I lack any understanding for what occurred to the pin which holds the boom to the goose neck. Then I assume that Mike or Bill needed a pin and just bastardized it.

    I glance over to Mike and he says, “How about that?”
    I ask, “You needed a part?”
    “No.” he says with a grin, “it fell apart.”
    “No way!
    Oh and what about the traveler stop?” The mainsheet traveler stop on the port was gone.

    “Captain Bill set the traveler stop and re-sheeted the main and a gust came up then it was gone, right over the side.”
    Mike is shaking his head and smiling.

    We’re sailing 1.5 to 2kts in the general direction of Beaufort.
    We’re 50 nm offshore so this will take a couple of days.

    The boat doesn’t have good motion at all.
    We’re taking seas on our starboard quarter. I decide to get a change of clothes so I go below. Down the companionway, left past the galley sink and stove, past the wretched stink of the AC refrigerator, thru the burning inferno of the diesel exhaust, and finally into the chaos of the aft cabin. The boat is lurching and in the process of changing I end up on the aft cabin sole left thumb first. One second I’m grasping the bed post and the next second I’m flying face first into the cabin sole. My thumb is jammed into the support structure of the port double bed. All my weight is on the thumb and it starts to throb. I shine the flashlight on it and see that a large patch of skin is detached and flapping. The blue light of my LED flashlight shows the hurt. The thumb feels somewhat dislocated. I wash it with hydrogen peroxide and apply a bandage.

    Being on watch now simply means to monitor the course of the boat and the wind, provide a lookout for any ships and remain tethered at all times. Do not fall off the boat as there is literally no way to execute a rescue.

    Captain Bill issues a “PON PON” and the US coast guard responds immediately. They ask the standard list of questions and establish a communication schedule.


    The only thing that hasn’t happened is that the boat hasn’t sprung a leak.
    So we prepare a ditch-bag. Just in case. Captain Bill has a nice yellow waterproof bag. This is a small zippered duffle bag and we fill it with the things that we think we will need if we have to abandon ship. Passports, wallets, energy bars, a couple of flashlights, handheld VHF, and the EPIRB.

    Saturday 8/1. TowBoatUS

    Sometime during the day while Captain Bill is on the radio with the Coast Guard we establish communication with TowBoatUS. At this point the coast guard hands us off the TowBoatUS and we start a communication schedule with them each two hours.

    Mike and I are in the cockpit.
    We’re chatting, just talking junk and passing the time about 25 nm offshore on our approach to Beaufort. From somewhere further offshore two boat shaking booms silence us and I let out a “What the…” Cloud cover has been moving in for the last several hours since daylight and visibility isn’t great, and Mike says, “Sonic booms.” I’m always forgetting that the east and west coasts of the country are the playground of the military.

    Steering the boat consists of Mike going below to tweak the lines such that we can jibe.
    On one tack we make a more easterly progress and on the other tack we make a more westerly progress.

    We’re not eating much in the way of real meals.
    We snack when we feel hungry.

    In order to use the head we must get a bucket of seawater and fill the bowl then activate the electric pressure switch and then flush.


    Captain Bill is passed out tired, and around mid-night I hear the call from TowBoatUS.
    I take the call and give them our position, heading and speed, and the current health of the crew. They think that we are making a little slower progress then we were previously and suggest that we should skip the 0230 communication. I agree to tell Captain Bill we will talk again at 0430 hours.

    Sunday 8/2. Ghost Boat in Tow

    At the top of my 0400 shift we make the determination that it is time for our last jibe westerly. This tack should put us approximately at the Sea buoy off of Beaufort. Sea buoy “BM” is the rendezvous point with TowBoatUS. We hear the call from TowBoatUS at 0430 hours and they are planning to put a crew together and be off the dock by 0730.

    We rendezvous before 0900 with TowBoatUS. The foredeck is cleared of sails and any running rigging. They pass over of a bridle at the end of long length of blue Amsteel.

    Mike tries to center the rudder and the towing begins.

    Tow boat is having a hell of a time keeping Lady “M” on track. The strain on the line is tremendous and in the process the bridle is broken three times until we’re down to the Amsteel only.

    We’re nearly completely abeam of the tow boat as we enter the channel to the Beaufort inlet.


    TowBoatUS thinks that possibly we won’t make the inlet and discusses with us via VHF the possibility of leaving us on the north side of the inlet channel so that we can anchor there.


    Captain Bill tells them that the boat won’t survive anchoring off the shore of the inlet and TowBoatUS continues to try to guide us in as we pass between the buoy markers of the inlet.
    TowBoatUS calls for assistance from the Coast Guard and they send out a crew on one of their rescue boats. I repeat, TowBoatUS calls for assistance from the Coast Guard.

    Finally TowBoatUS has us behind the protected waters of the natural jetty of Beaufort harbor. TowBoatUS begins the process of setting a hip-tow. The tow boat captain says, “That thing is some kinda ghost ship. Goes where it wants when it wants. I’ve been doing this for quite a while and have never had to call the Coast Guard for assistance. I’ll tell ya, this is not my first time at the rodeo. Yes sir that there is a real Ghost ship.”

    TowBoatUS has us at dock in Morehead City at Dockside Marina at approximately 1130 hours. I guarantee you that I’ll be double checking my maintenance to-do list of my boat and for all other things I won’t sweat the small stuff.




    Oh after dropping off Mike, Captain Bill and I head off toward Maryland. We had a pet frog stowaway. Yes, we pulled over and let him safely jump free.

  • Tidewater Marina is located in a quiet industrial section of Baltimore – where the landmark highlights appear to be a cruise line pier, the Baltimore Sun, Walmart and Nicks Fish House.

    With our salon window redesign underway by repairman Clifton at Tidewater – molds of the new window hatches, grinding and fiberglass dust all added to our blue-tarp under construction “look”. It also made Cat Maudy unlivable.

    No matter how hard we tried to keep the interior free of fiberglass dust – it managed to get everywhere. In addition, whenever it rained (a daily afternoon thunderstorm phenomena) – water got in the boat…maxing with dust particles for a delightful paste of water and fiberglass to clean up.

    We kept our fingers crossed that Clifton would work fast and long days – but the temperatures proved to be too high for this native Trinidad boat worker. By late morning the heat and humidity was overwhelming. We would spend our days at Tidewater, supervising, becoming regulars at Nicks Fish House, and vacate Cat Maudy in the evenings for land life. Soon the hatches will be installed – and we will be ready to install the new acrylic windows in the remaining portals. And, in the meantime – the food at Nicks Fish House was fantastic!

  • As we departed from the Docks of Anchorage Marina with our big blue tarp draped over the windowless portals of the salon – the skies and waterways were a buzz with police copters and inflatable dinghies. Sure enough a B’more body was missing – and a massive search was underway in the harbor.

    As we neared one of the police boats – I asked how the body search was coming. I don’t think this policeman had particularly high expectations of finding anyone – and joked with us to keep on a lookout for a floating body. I assured him there were no bodies hiding under our massive blue tarp. Yep, another day on the water in the Baltimore harbor.

    As we rounded Fort McHenry – and far away from the body search – it was time to test handHELM(tm). After months of beta testing on the dock – we had to see if she could actually steer the boat. We were en route to TideWater Marina – just a few miles away – to have the new salon hatches installed. We looked like a boat that was badly in need of re-construction. With our blue tarp flapping wildly in the wind, it was a perfect opportunity to use handHELM(tm) to steer the boat from the bow. After all, with the blue tarp limiting visibility from the helm station – this is what handHELM(tm) is all about! Moving around the boat, without wires – and steering the boat from any location.

    With the auto helm ON, Captain Pat, standing on the foredeck – easily navigated Cat Maudy using handHELM(tm). A course correction to starboard…or another course correction to port – Cat Maudy was under power by handHELM(tm). Just like toggling the autohelm from the captain’s station — it was pretty cool being able to steer the boat from any location on the deck. Depth, wind speed and other instrumentation could be viewed too. handHELM’s sea trial is a success! Stay tuned for the next sea trial…on a Blackberry!

  • Workin‘ on skate skills at the mega size parking lot next to the runway is one of my favorite things to do. Part of the fun is watching the airplanes take off at BWI Airport – less than 1/4 mile away. Ok ok…this is a restricted area – but the parking lot is just too good to pass up – and the security folks have yet to kick us out. Tami & I techno grooved the time away practicing our:

    • one skate balance
    • parallel S curves
    • scully
    • heel carve

    And some scary YouTube video to remind us why working on technique is so much fun!
    S-curve (Tami Jane)
    Heel carve (Tami Jane)


  • um…no.

    That would be a big negatory, ma’am.

    40 miles on country roads somewhere northwest of DC, with Joel and his biker buds Tom and Bob made for a perfect Friday afternoon rush hour – on bicycles. Secluded country roads, mostly car-free allowed me to do my job at being the group “bike anchor”. I had hoped that my pokey speeds had to do with my low-end bicycle cheap gears and the like, but Tom confirmed that theory. Nope, it wasn’t the bike at all. My sluggish speeds were due to inefficient bicycling. It was a man up moment. Time to analyze bike bio mechanics.

    I spent much of the ride studying biking technique, and gleaning tips from everyone. Lower profile on downhills…attack the hills….maintain RPMs…no, make that Faster RPMs…use those pedal clips more efficient..weight off the arms….something about the circle…YIKES! So many details.

    I have a lot to learn and practice — before the rush hour cops with their speed guns take notice!

    go LANCE! you rock!

  • …when you can spend it on skates with your longtime dear childhood friend from Binghamton NY. Despite the reality of middle age, we somehow manage to feel 6 years old again, carefree, excited about everything, athletic, and ready for our next adventure. Which, by the way is on September 13 at the skate race trak!


  • Highlights of the BWC 5K running race:

    • Early arrival: Jill style. Arrive at 6:30AM for an 8AM race start. At least I got a parking spot!
    • Rockin‘ support vibe – solo guitar players at every street corner serenading the runners with whatever they felt like playin. Plus this one very cool bicycle dude giving us high-5’s!
    • Flat double-back course. Great organization. No traffic.
    • Half sun, half shade – in one direction, you sweat bullets with the sun at your face. On the return trip, sun at your back and shade from the row houses! Love that shade.
    • Everyone pouring water on themselves to cool down at the water stations
    • Roses at the finish! Hoped to break 29 minutes…close…no cigar. 29:08 Next time!
    • Missing? My sistahood? whaddup girlfriends??
    • Apres run – w/hubby at the coffee shop!


  • We all have them. Voices in our heads that constantly tell us what to do, when to do it, how we feel despite knowing differently. The voices that tell us to stop with all the endorphins – even tho we crave it. Sometimes the Little People go amok with their own version of events, and create a bit of unnecessary drama.

    The best way to tame them – is to apply more endorphins. Many more. Til you drop. That way the Little People are too tired to talk back to you.

    Life’s little philosophies, by Jane
    BTW…your little people will tell you to disregard this.

  • Without windows, rainy days present a challenge. Our ‘big blu‘ tarp leaks. It rains inside.

    Daily afternoon thunderstorms, add a touch more drama. 50 knot winds during one recent intense electrical storm set the bucket brigade on Cat Maudy into perpetual motion. We watched helplessly as one of our 2 outer blue tarps flew off the salon. One tarp remained. With 8 buckets capturing only part of the torrential downpour, if we lost the 2nd tarp – we would be totally exposed to horizontal rains.

    Tarp #2 held on. Twenty minutes later – the winds subsided, and the electrical storm moved northeast. We would spend the next 24 hours drying out.

  • Due to popular demand (or maybe just the very cool t-shirt), the Sista-hood decided to make the Run for the Roses an annual event. Unfortunately, Jill did not get the memo for 2009, so Emma and I turned this into a mother-daughta event.

    The alarm clock on my new Verizon walkie-talkie phone didn’t go off at 5:30AM. Instead, the low battery squawk noises began at 2:30AM. By the time I figured out how to plug in the charging unit without wiping all of the sleep pixie dust from my eyes – I was wide awake. Hours of wide-awake time passed, until 6AM, driving south on I-95 from Baltimore. Now, I just wanted to go back to bed.

    Emma’s b’friend Mike would be joining us as support crew and paparazzi. Time to shake off the sleepless cobwebs and try to put on a show for the cameras. Emma had this bizarre idea that we should wear running SKIRTS. I don’t own a running skirt…but would substitute a tennis skirt so our mothadaughta team could run in matching outfits. Pre-race fashion designs – by Emma.

    I warned Emma that I would be slow. I know I mentioned something about my hamstrings not at 100%. I’m pretty sure I repeated myself. I’m guessing Emma is hearing impaired. We started the race in mid-pack. In less than 50 feet, Emma was in full stride passing lots of women. She looked over her shoulder expecting me to be there. OK, just this once, I thought – as I sped up to re-join her.

    Emma runs like a dog chasing a tennis ball. Speeding past ladies in front, so that she can get her sights on a new challenge. Oh crap. I’m gonna have to figure out a way to keep up. Emma is chatting the entire time. Talking to volunteers on the course. Supporting fellow runners. Providing me with data from her special runner-doo watch. Giving me course information, pace time and time left. I focused on getting enough oxygen.

    As we approached the finish line – Emma wants us to sprint the last 100 yards. Surely this girl has lost her mind. There was no democracy here. Daughter unit was building speed…I had no choice but to follow. We finished in less than 30 minutes – 29min 53 seconds to be exact. Our pace was 9min miles 37 seconds. We took 8th place as the mother daughter team – and top 28% overall. Not bad considering that Emma was dragging an anchor for 3.1 miles!

    Off to apres run-fun activities at the coffee shop and farmers market in downtown Silver Spring – with our film and support Paparazzi Mike. Sleep can come later. It’s time to celebrate!

  • Don’t try this at home…or on your boat. Unless of course, you want to save $20,000+ in boat yard labor fees.

    The salon window replacement project began in “concept” – last fall. Without adequate weather or temperatures, windows replacement waited until the following spring. Spring felt more like monsoon season in the tropics. We waited, and continued to revise our plans for constructing window frames. We thought we had lined up a boat yard to assist – but big dollar signs became apparent ($20-$30K) – we realized that we would have to tackle this project ourselves. Weeks away from the official declaration of “summer”, we armed ourselves with “how to” info from the Internet, calls to the sikaflex tech support guy, and a collection of kitchen knives.

    36 linear feet of windows, approximately 2 feet high, needed to be gouged out from their attachment to fiberglass – carefully. Acrylic windows needed to removed so that they could eventually be framed and prepped for new acrylic fabrication. A wooden frame would be constructed in key areas around compound curves. Easier said than done.

    With the help of my bro, Chuck – and his well equipped workshop in the ‘burbs, plywood was cut to size to match 12 window portal dimensions.

    No window project can start, until the daily storm and weather systems pass by. With winds up to 40 knots, and rain appearing as horizontal sheets – we were excited about removing all of the windows that surrounded the salon. May the weather gods cease and desist.

    Finally, a 3 day reprieve in the weather. Jill’s brother Fred had arrived in town from Michigan looking for work. Lucky for us – as we gladly added Fred’s muscle power to the project. For 3 days, every tool was used to pry the acrylic windows from the goo that held them to the boat fiberglass.

    Sikaflex. Sikaflex is the goo that appears like rubber, but with adhesion. It doesn’t want to let go of your windows. However, by using steak knives, razors, chef knives, scrapers, carpet cutting tools, piano wire and guitar strings….progress was made. Inch by inch. Temperatures had risen to the 90’s. Sika residue was everywhere. Knuckles were rubbed raw. It was delightful!


    With the acrylic windows now free from their sikaflex hold, it was time to build wooden frames. This proved to be a challenging. The frames needed to rest on a level plane, and of course the windows formed a huge curve around the salon. 4 separate windows – each covering 3 portals. After hours of head scratching, it was decided to begin with the middle portal of each window – and build each frame point using 2 x 3″posts, a plywood base and two 2×3″ x 8′ lengths… Each post was measured and cut, and then screwed into the acrylic on one side, and into the plywood base on the other. Since you had to measure and cut each post, and remeasure the entire 8′ base for each cut – the frame construction proceeded slowly.

    On the second day of window framing, an especially HOT and HUMID day – one of the drill bits popped off and made it’s way down the AC duct…directly INTO the Air Conditioner. Not good. All framing work ceased. The AC was turned off. Sweat poured like waterfalls. The little people ran amok. Two hours later, with minimal AC dis-assembly, I was able to reach into the AC unit…and locate the escapee drill bit. The duct work was restored – and AC turned back on. The windows team was hot and tired.

    Now that both starboard and port side windows have been removed and framed – we proceeded to rent a U-Haul cargo van for transport. With the help of our dock team and boat neighbors Bob, Becky and Dan – we loaded up the van with the framed windows.


    As we sat in the salon, enjoying a delightful breeze due to windowless features – we had an epiphany. Why not install 4 hatches in 4 of the portals – to improve ventilation? Wouldn’t it be nice to have AIR in the salon? Stay tuned for the windows design change. Hatches to be installed in place of 4 portals.

    Nearly 7 days from the time that the first “scrapings” occurred, we transported the framed windows to Precision Plastics for fabrication.


  • Two weeks ago Emma and I were feeling mighty mighty after tri-sista Jill’s Columbia Triathlon. We needed a sistahood moment, an event, a race, anything will do really. Emma selected Zooma Annapolis – a mere 10K event just 2 weeks away. Plus, all finishers got a SILVER NECKLACE, a box lunch and a cupcake. That’s it. All I needed to hear. Training is all about the treats, so this sounded like an EXCELLENT adventcha, with a few minor exceptions. Jill could barely walk with her new IT band trauma, I wasn’t running at all due to hamstring problems, and Emma was the only sista hood not complaining about aches and pains. Let’s do a 10K run in 2 weeks. Why not!

    Every night for 2 weeks, I put myself in painful poses to try to stretch out my hamstrings. By day 3 I was up to 3 miles….and at the end of the first week – Emma and I ran a whopping 5 miles at the Annapolis Naval Academy. Things were looking swell. Except for the fact that my speed was slower than molasses. I could practically walk faster than I ran. Jill struggled with running downhill – where the screams from Mister IT Band could be heard throughout her neighborhood. Emma was simply a running machine.

    Game day. Sunday Morning. The day of the sista-hood. But wait – Emma won’t be joining us? Her car malfunctioned with the swine flu, and then passed the disease to her b’friend’s Mikes car…and suddenly they were out in western Maryland with a bunch of piggly-wigglies and no hot rod Lincolns. This was not a good start. We were counting on Emma to run all out and give the sista hood a great finish time. Now, we would have to try to manage in our AARP crippled state, and get to the finish line all by ourselves. It would not be the same without Emma. We had to make her proud.

    We pre-arranged a rendezvous – that involved meeting in a parking lot in Glen Burnie at 5:20am. Guess who insisted that we be the VERY FIRST to arrive at the Naval Academy for the start of the 10K Zooma race? If you guessed Jill, that would be correct. With Jill driving at speeds close to 90mph, we traveled into the future, and arrived in Annapolis in less than 10 minutes. It was hard to get excited about doing this run. We were both injured. No Emma. The temperatures were in the 50’s, and it was pouring rain. Cold cold rain. This silver necklace at the finish line better be pretty special!

    We waited in long lines at the start — for a restroom. The lines weren’t moving – and we were shivering in the cold temperatures and pouring rains. Someone suggested that we try the Men’s bathroom – as there were no lines. We sprinted to the men’s bathroom on the Naval Academy. We were finally sheltered from the rain, and there was a short line of ladies waiting for the two stalls to become available. There was also a steady stream of men who were not shy about using the additional urinals in our presence. We waited in line, with our backs to the urinals. Soon this will be over, and we’ll have our dang necklace.

    By 7AM, the race started. After the first mile, the rains had stopped, and Jill kindly settled into my ‘crawling on all fours’ pace. It was a rigorous course. Much of it uphill. We ran the entire 10K distance, no hamstring popping, no IT band outta control. We were even passing other runners on occasion. And not just the 90 year olds! Emma would have been proud of us. Rock on sista-hoods!

  • The first 30 days
    Snow is a 4 letter word
    Getting Paid
    Women in charge – the Sharon Pratt Kelley era
    Discovered
    Making a Difference
    The Barry Resurrection & Congress installs the Financial Control Board
    Business is Business
    The Blizzard of ’96
    The Queen of IT arrives with the Money Train
    The IT Greed Explosion
    New Call Center sets the District back in time
    Let the Politics Begin
    Anthony Williams & the era of out sourcing
    Hey, where did my server go? Software without a hard drive
    Work Order sobriety check
    How the Vendors run the show
    Taking back the reins – kind of
    Lie, cheat and steal
    Gotcha!
    Big brother is watching
    Time to replace the working watch keeper
    The sad state of greasy palm software


  • Promises were made. Expectations were high. If I could convince Paddy to ride my bicycle with the friends-n-family group at 8AM on Memorial Day– surely there would need to be a TREAT waiting. I had a plan.

    Chuck, Paddy and Eileen would bike along the B&A trial, and Jill and I would travel via inline skates. Once we reached mile marker 5….bliss would occur for the bikers. Bliss would be in the form of coffee and muffins at one of the two popular coffee shops along the trail. Jill and I would continue on, maximizing the endorphin input, while the rest of the gang enjoyed treats.

    Aaaah, best laid plans. We arrived at mile marker 5 — to CLOSED signs on the storefronts. Apparently the fact that it was a HOLIDAY, resulted in coffee shops closing. Whudup? There were some very sad faces on the bikers. We quickly came up with Plan-B. We’ll make a 7.5 mile beeline back to the cars – with the promise of apres-workout Starbucks to follow.

    Paddy was well in the lead, and he was not looking back. He had muffins and coffee on his mind. Eileen was hot in pursuit. We had lost sight of Chuck. Jill and I made a quick stop for a skate adjustment, which put us well in the back of the pack. We resumed our skate, and I got into a drafting position directly behind Jill. As we skated toward Marley Station (mile marker 10) – Jill (who was skating in front) noticed a huge black snake lounging across the trail path. Technically, this is a freak out moment. But cool-as-a-cucumber-Jill, with those triathlon tricep and bicep muscles, flicked me with her left arm across the trail, onto the grass, and toward a tree — missing the black snake. What a sis!

    By now, Chuck had ridden his bike back to us – trying to figure out why the skaters were lagging behind. With the adrenaline boost from our black snake encounter, we got back up to speed, and skated with Chuck back to the cars – where Eileen and Paddy were waiting. Within 10 minutes, we were chillin’ with smiles, coffee and breakfast treats. Whew!


  • Day 1 – Baltimore to Annapolis
    With a full day of scrubbing the inside port hull (mold removal) and stocking up on fruit and salad fixin’s – we were ready to depart for a 3-day sailing weekend with daughter unit Emma and newbie-sailor Mike. This trip would be Mike’s first time out on the water, and we had convinced him that he would not feel any motion sickness on a catamaran. No crew or visitor had ever gotten sick while sailing on Cat Maudy (on our watch).

    We secured the “Farm” to the port stern rail. 12 plants including tomatoes, green peppa’s and basil housed in a topsy-turvy would be traveling with us. I taught Emma and Mike a few line handling skills while still at dock, and by 11AM, we had departed our port – for destination Annapolis. The winds were 10-15knots from the south – not ideal for the direction we were headed, but we had the full day ahead of us – so tacking a lot was not an issue. OK, physically, it was an issue. My wimpy arms felt like they were going to fall off from all of the winching of the gib sail. For Mike, heave-ho brought on new meaning. Mike spent the rest of the day trying to win the battle over motion sickness.

    We arrived into the port of Annapolis to a scene of hundreds of sailboats seemingly engaged in a sailing race. Avoiding them was a challenge. In addition, it was commencement weekend at the Annapolis Naval Academy. This meant, that the normally busy Annapolis port – had morphed into complete human madness.

    Without access to a mooring ball, we were forced to test out the new windlass. I think all of the talk from Captain Pat (during windlass installation) about the solenoid exploding when using the windlass made me a bit nervous on first time operation. Ok, technically this doesn’t occur (the Captain tells me now)…

    Anyway, the new windlass likes to pump the chain out as if you are in a dire emergency to get anchored. In other words, all 140′ of our chain could be hauled overboard within seconds — if the windlass is not tightened “just so”. Emma and I carefully read my pre-printed instructions for lowering the anchor. The moment I hit the DOWN button, the chain started flying out! Between the two of us, we managed to re-tighten the mechanism and stop the chain free-fall. Success – we’re anchored!

    Mike resembled raw dough at this point. Motion sickness was not getting any better by bouncing around, anchored in the busy Annapolis harbor. Emma took Mike to shore via the local water taxi – to see if land would help. A slice of pizza, an overdose of Dramamine and a couple hours on shore seemed to do the trick.

    Day 2- Anchored in Annapolis
    Despite winds at 25 knots, we decided to remain anchored for the day in Annapolis. This had the added benefit of allowing Emma and I to go for a run, Mike to get to shore, and Pat some solo time to work on his invention – handHELM(tm).

    By 10:30AM, we hailed a water taxi to the City Docks. Humans everywhere. Graduation weekend at the Naval Academy proved to be a popular spot. We grabbed our drivers licenses…and made our way into the Naval Academy. Once our ID’s were inspected – Emma and I departed for a 5 mile run – in 80plus degree heat. Emma barely broke a sweat, while I agonized, and slowed our pace to a crawl. I stared longingly at every bench and shady spot that we passed, hoping Emma might say something like – “hey let’s take a break”… but no. She’s an EverReady bunny, and was determined to get in a decent run.

    As we returned back into the Naval Academy grounds…we had to whip out our ID’s for inspection again. A lovely guard from Spain, asked us many questions about running in the metro DC-Annapolis area. Emma spent a good 5 minutes explaining all about the Montgomery County Road Runners Club….and I was secretly thrilled to be taking a running break.

    Despite my sloooow pace, we finished our run…grabbed a quick shower at the City Docks…and walked thru the crowds in search of food. Eventually, Captain Pat made it to shore as well – and we walked around downtown Annapolis window shopping and taking pictures. This is when I discovered my drivers license was missing. Aiiii. We retraced steps to restaurants, and anywhere I may have opened the zipper on my fitness belt….to no success. The license was gone. I presumed some underage teen was enjoying drinks while using my AARP drivers license.

    Day 3 – Annapolis to Baltimore
    We departed at 7:30AM from Annapolis in hopes of catching the strongest southerly winds. Later in the day, the winds would subside – so it was best to depart early.

    By now, Mike was doing quite well with his sea legs, and hopelessly addicted to Dramamine. His dough-boy look was history now. We had a terrific sail up the bay, into the Patapsco…and nearly to our dock space at the Anchorage Marina.

    We arrived at the dock to steamy temperatures….and What’s that smell? The harbor reeks of dead fish. It’s either nasty pollution or an algae bloom. The water is a chocolate brown, with bubbles at the surface. Dead fish appear. Emma and Mike waste no time packing up their gear – and getting away from the new aromas. Can’t say that I blame them!

    Addendum: A few days later, I received my drivers license in the mail. Found by the US Naval Academy Police. Many thanks…and GO NAVY!

  • She is certainly a WINNER in our eyes. Jill tackled a SOLO adventure of a 1 mile swim, 26 mile bike and 6.2 mile run…to conquer the Olympic course Columbia Triathlon in sub-60 degree temperatures mixed with precipitation on Sunday May 17!

    Not wanting to miss the START, Jill and support team hubby Chuck arrived at the starting line at 4AM – a good 2 hours before anyone else arrived. As the other half of the “support team”, I did my duty and slept in. Overslept actually. Raced off the boat in my jammies…sped past the police barricades at the harbor tunnel, and tried to stay focused on staying between the lanes in I-95, as I wiped sleep pixie dust from my eyes. Barely made it to the swim sendoff….but all was OK, as Jill was calm as a cucumber (or is that green as a cucumber?) – and big bro had done a PRO job in managing his athlete.

    This was Tri-Jill’s DEBUT in swimming in a wetsuit. With swimming her strong suit…we expected her to cruise thru the swim. Unfortunately, she underestimated the amount of HEAT that her bod would produce flanked inside skin-tight neoprene. Panic set in for the first 10 minutes of the swim, as dolphin girl was trying to decide if she should just rip off the wetsuit and hop a boat ride to shore. The mental training took over. There was no way Tri-Jill was going to let down her KEY supporter (hubs). This was time to MAN-up. And suddenly, Jills rhythm was back. Passing other swimmers…Tri-Jill made quick work of the swim…and soon was jogging up the transition area to hop on the bike.

    It was about this time, where the rain-gods let loose. Ugh. One of the first times in my life, I actually preferred to be one of the support crew members. Chuck and I hustled into position to take pictures…then as soon as Jill disappeared from site…we beelined to the car. We had an hour and 30 minutes of downtime, til Jill (aka Lance Armstrong) returned. She did an amazing 15mph in very inclement conditions. As a matter of fact, she did such a good job riding back…that I missed taking her pic on the return to Centennial Park. I’m novice at this support team stuff. Chuck covered what I missed.

    As Jill raced out of the bike transition for the final leg…nearly a mile into the RUN – a race official told her she did not have her race bib number affixed. YIKES! This is an official OMG moment. Jill had to run all of the way back to the bike transition area…to find her race number. She ended up doing approximately 8 miles of the required 6.2 — and still crossed the finish line in RECORD time. VERY impressive…we now have an Olympic triathlete in the family! Rock on SISTAHOOD.

    One added note: I have to take a moment to highlight one amazing support team member – my bro Chuck. He stays behind the scenes…allows others to be in their glory…and is just “always” there, taking pictures, rooting on. It takes a very special person to be a support team member of hyper athletic junkies. I know this from personal experience…as my bro was with me on EVERY marathon that I ran…from start to finish. So, not only am I awestruck at the incredible FEAT that Jill has accomplished…I am equally awestruck by the unwavering support of my bro – who rarely takes the lime lite. You rock too bro!

  • (Captain Pat)

    Back in the day… …Cruisers had many little tricks for preserving fresh food on board the cruising boat. None of those tricks included a Frigoboat keel cooler refrigeration unit. You can probably google preserving fresh eggs and find that eggs can be kept for a very long time without refrigeration. Ok…we’ll save that subject for another day.

    These days cruisers want produce, dairy and meats as fresh as possible for as long as possible. So, we will burn electrical amp-hours to attain this goal. Cat Maudy has two refrigeration systems. One is the galley fridge (mostly working properly) and the other is the storage freezers. The storage freezer system is a freezer only system. It is not working – Jane wants me to get that running this summer. The two storage units are located in the aft cabins and the compressor is in the starboard engine compartment. These are both Frigoboat systems.

    The freezer only system is water cooled. It uses “Cold Plates” for storage area cooling. The galley fridge is a Frigoboat Keel cooler system which uses an evaporator box for cooling. We rely on our galley fridge. This has got to work, period.

    The following diagram basically depicts what our system looks like and differs in actual model of the compressor and evaporator.


    The compressor is reeeeeally small and fits a shelf adjacent to the storage box and above the keel plate. It hums quietly. When you lift the storage hatch you can hear the coolant gurgling through the evaporator. It will make ice in the small evaporator box but the aggressive frost buildup is just a hassle to deal with so we try to keep thermostat set so that storage box stays just cool enough.

    Just enough is just right and draws the least amount of amp-hours on our battery system. So What The Frigoboat? Well when we put Cat Maudy in the water in ’06 it was already nearly winter, and we didn’t mess with it until the spring of ’07. The fridge wasn’t working so Woody Sherrod (the marine fridge specialist) stopped by and purged the system then re-charged the coolant. It worked for a year and a half and never missed a beat.

    Until now. Woody Sherrod tried several times to revive our frigiboat refrigeration but not gonna happen this time sweetie. So, Woody suggested that we install a Super Cold Machine. This refrigeration has a air-type primary heat exchanger with a water cooling heat exchanger as an option. This is what we did. We don’t the water side plumbed yet but that won’t be a big job when we choose to do it. Thanks Woody! If you are in the Baltimore area and need heating/cooling help call Woody at (410) 752-2870.

  • The windlass install is complete. In this shot the chain, solenoid, motor, and gearbox are visible. This project was complete on 5/10. We decided to replace the old windlass on 4/19 and started the project with 4 days of dis-assembly. The old windlass was a Diport AG with a much larger footprint and easily twice the weight. Two design flaws made the old windlass not worth the effort to try to keep it running. 1) Ease of maintenance and 2) the capstan would not operate independently of the gypsy due to the re-engineering of the clutch tension mechanism.

    Further, obtaining any parts for it would involve going to a local tool and die shop for some custom fabrication.

    I had a plastic box on the boat from the previous owner and often wondered what I would ever do this thing. So now it has found a home in the anchor locker. The layout of the components from top left is the main breaker, the “power switch”, the Chain/Rode counter, and an Up/Down switch. The Up/Down switch allows you to operate the windlass while you are coiling line or chain. Of course we still have the deck mounted foot switches.

    This is a picture of the chain locker from above. The little anchor is the dinghy anchor.

    This is the almost finished installation. I am going to use my Dremel tool to shape some Starboard as a rub guard for the leading edge of the windlass mount. So, once I have that ready we will re-paint this area with Awlgrip (including the mount) and then fasten the rub guard on the mount.


    So what did it cost? Here is quickie estimate of the parts:

    • Maxwell RC10/10 $1150.00 (from Defender.com)
    • Chain/Rode Counter $400.00 (from Defender.com)
    • Wire & Lugs $120.00 (West Marine)
    • Control Box $25.00 (from the bilge)
    • Terminal Strip $8.00 (from the bilge)
    • Epoxy $60.00 (West Marine)
    • Maine Plywood $20.00 (local lumber supply)

    Now we have about $1,800.00 in parts and the bigger number is the labor. If this project had just been to replace the windlass with a new windlass of the same make and model the project would have taken about a day. In this case we had to completely dis-assemble the old windlass, do deck work, create a new deck mount, dry-fit, and completely re-wire a new system.

    There are two yards in this area that I would trust with a job like this, one is Tidewater Yacht Service in Baltimore and the other is Georgetown Yacht Basin. This is basically a one person job and the yards charge that at approximately $100.00/hour. So roughly speaking about $1,000.00/day. This is a 7 or 8 day job so I’ll estimate 7 days labor. BOOOOM. BOAT! Break-Out-Another-Thousand. So the grand total for a yard to do this job is nearly $10,000.00.

    This a very smooth functioning windlass and Maxwell makes it pretty easy to maintain. The capstan and gypsy can be used independently by using a winch handle to relieve the clutch tension.

    We tested this installation by paying out all the chain. The counter shows that we have about 140′ of 10mm chain. I’m thinking that we should add some line rode which we can now do because the gypsy will accept 10mm chain and 5/8″ rode, but we’ll save that for another day later in the summer and only if it appears that we will be heading south for the winter.

    We’ll be testing this installation over the summer.

    Next project? W I N D O W S! We think that’s next and have made some discoveries about this problem…

  • This year we are in dire need of a good rain. This year we are in dire need of a windlass fix. Driving south toward DC you’ll pass over the itty bitty Patuxent River. It has been an almost dry river bed for a few years now so this abundant spring rain we are hiding from is sort of welcome. The river bed is so dry you could mount a windlass down there on that rock and pull the bay west.

    I was reviewing my notes from one of my discussions with the previous owner of Cat Maudy. He said that the windlass had been damaged and that that damage forced him to do some impromptu engineering. Additionally, the manufacturer only distributes product in Europe so I opted to just replace the existing windlass.

    I called Vetus. After chatting with Vetus about their windlass line, made by the Italian firm Lofrans, I decided against the Vetus windlass. The Vetus gypsy doesn’t accept chain and rode. Hmmm. They told me to call Maxwell. Not Lofrans? No, we bought Maxwell. Lofrans builds your windlass? Yeah, go to Maxwell. OK then. That’s also what my friend Dan said, “Get a Maxwell.”

    I called Maxwell and the pre-sales tech support was great. I selected the RC-10/10. It is a vertical windlass with a 1200 watt motor and 1500 lbs of pull. It is not stainless steel so it is cheaper than the Lewmar and Lofrans. Right now we have 160 ft of 10mm chain. When you add the weight of the chain and the 26kg Buegel anchor this windlass is well within the numbers.

    So much for all this blathering. Here is a little picture of the then and to be:

    This windlass will “free fall” the ground tackle off the bow and straight into the Marianna Trench if you allow it. The capstan is fixed to the drive shaft (and of the course the motor) but by loosening the cone clutch the capstan and gypsy operate independently. So we can deploy the second anchor. This feature had been de-engineered from our previous windlass. The second anchor, a 22kg Delta Fastset, has only about 25 ft chain and 250 ft of 3/4in rode which allows us to get the thing off the floor with capstan.

    I have to wire it in order to test it. The diagram is like this:

    This installation will have a chain counter, foot switches on deck, and an activation switch in the chain locker. But the parts currently look like this:

    So while the Patuxent is getting a much needed rain I’m taking a break. Of course the alternative blog post to this post could have been…

    … it was raining with no end. I should have tested the windlass before we left the dock but I was in a “we don’t need no stickin’ testing up in here” mood. We made the anchorage with force 10 winds that nearly blew Jane off the fore deck and I thought I heard her say, “the !@#$ windlass is jammed.”