Mia & Andy will again be exhibiting at the US Sailboat Show in Annapolis with World Cruising Club. In addition to the booth they'll have in tent O-17 (by the Marriot parking lot), there are lots of events going on around the show itself. Click for more info.
My dad decided to join us at the last minute. As I write, I'm back, yet again, at the Sweet Indulgence Cafe in Lunenburg, waiting for him to arrive by taxi from the airport. Isbjörn is on anchor in the harbor, with Mia and Rachel aboard just chilling out. Matt is somewhere in town doing a last-minute wander.
We're just hours from departing Lunenburg now for the return passage to Annapolis, and Tropical Storm Claudette is making me re-think our departure plans. Matt, one of our crew, went to the Fisheries Museum this morning, and it's all the tour guide was talking about. I had seen a small depression on the GRIBS yesterday, but apparently sometime this morning it officially got a name.
Of course one of the greatest things about ocean voyaging is exploring your landfall! My dad and I used to wonder, especially after particularly challenging passages, if we did it for the sailing, or did it for the payoff at the other end. I’m still not sure there is a clear answer to that. It’s obvious a bit of both, and the challenge of getting to that far-off land under your own effort over such a comparatively long time is what makes it so cool, and so unique in our modern time. The average air traveler will never have any concept of how large the world actually is. We ocean sailors know better.
I love sailing into a harbor, especially at night. Moitessier once wrote that he prefers sailing into a harbor at night because nobody is watching, and you don’t have to worry about folks thinking you’re showing off. Sometimes you are, of course, but to me, it’s more about the joy and challenge of coming in under sail than anything else.
Sailing from the hot & humid Chesapeake northeast past New England & on towards Canada has been exceptionally exciting in terms of the changing weather and the cooling water temps. We're at sea now for almost five days. You could fly the route in a few hours, but experiencing the gradual change in climate as we cruise along at a jogging pace is what truly makes ocean voyaging a special thing. It really IS a long way from home when you realize how much the weather's changed and watch it do so gradually. We're not in Kansas anymore.
After the rescue, we continued motor boating for nearly the next 24 hours. Unlike the previous week on the DelMarVa rally, where we scooted out the Canal and down the Bay at a cool 8 knots, riding a fair tide the whole way, we bucked the tide this time, making only 4-4.5 knots under power nearly all the way to Cape May. When we did finally get within site of the ocean itself, the wind was on the nose and light.
We took turns at the pump as Someday’s owner Dennis searched in the bilge to find the leak. There was a good 3-4 feet of water sloshing around, but we kept ahead of it with the huge pump. Me, Sean and Mia took turns, while the rest of my crew kept the boats apart, and Sheila, Dennis’ wife, communicated with the USCG and Tow Boat/US.
This is the first in a multi-part blog series about Isbjorn's first offshore passage from Annapolis to Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. There are loads of photos in the galleries at the end of each post. Start with this one, and follow along. Normally I do this from at-sea, but we forgot the email device for the sat phone! So here it is now, in one big dump. Some of this I wrote on the boat at-sea, some of it after we arrived. Enjoy! -Andy
Andy and the crew of Isbjörn have no email at sea so they won't be posting blogs while offshore. However, the Yellowbrick tracker can post to Facebook, so check there for brief updates now and then. Also, Isbjörn's position is updated every four hours at 59-north.com/tracking. - Rory
Position 2015.06.15: 39° 34’ N, 072° 11’ W
Mia has informed me that the last article I wrote about our little run-in with the Navy ship was shared something like 22 times on my Facebook page. Apparently it struck a cord with some people, so that's cool. Given that, and having had time to think about what happened some more, I thought I'd type a little followup.
I was sleeping on the port settee, the first time since we started this trip back in NYC that we were on starboard tack and I wasn't hanging in the lee cloth. So a nice cozy sleep, and I was out cold. We'd been motor sailing all night, and the wind was veering around from SW to an expected NE as we passed through a very weak cold front. We we're smack in the Gulf Stream to boot, but starting to make progress again in the right direction.