Mobjack Bay, Virginia to St. Michaels, Maryland September 2018 As is known, when I start sailing I like to keep going. My initial intention was to daysail the roughly one hundred miles north in Chesapeake Bay to Saint Michael’s, Maryland. I didn’t. I did it in one thirty-three hour bite. This wasn’t a passage, so this isn’t a passage log. I don’t know what it is and labels aren’t essential anyway. I slept well last night, having to get up twice to adjust dock lines. Overcast this morning and pleasantly cool. Before breakfast I imposed order on chaos and GANNET is again livable in semi-passage mode. I have email to catch up with and then look forward to exploring Saint Michaels. -------- September 25/26, 2018 I woke at 6:00 to a starry sky and light east wind. I raised the mainsail and then the anchor. Anchor up at 6:20 and, after I unfurled the jib, we were gliding southeast at 3 knots. We had to sail southeast for 5 miles to clear Mobjack Bay. I tacked at 7:45 and we sailed 030º until we cleared the interestingly named Wolf Trap Light and could fall off to 000º. For a while the wind was 12 knots and GANNET was sailing at 6, but gradually the wind has fallen to 6 and 7 knots and our speed to 4-4.5. Seas almost smooth. Bright sunshine, though thunderstorms are possible for this afternoon. I saw several dolphin earlier. A tug towing a barge passed heading south. Sailing with hatches open. In addition to the automatic Yellowbrick updates every six hours I am sending manual updates from time to time to show our track more accurately. 1 p.m. The wind has continued to veer to the southeast and weaken. Now less than 5 knots. An hour ago I decided to set the G2. It was a huge hassle. I had not used the sail since sometime last year. The lower drum was frozen. I managed to unfreeze it, raised the furling gear and the sail refused to unfurl. I lowered the furling gear. Found all parts that ought to move to be moving freely. Raised the furling gear. Sail unfurled about one quarter. I looked aloft to see if the spinnaker halyard was fouled. It wasn’t. I went forward and turned the drum by hand, unfurling the bottom third of the sail. However the top two-thirds remained furled. I went back to the cockpit and pumped the sheet in and out. Finally the sail unfurled completely. I conclude that it simply had been furled too tightly for too long. Stronger wind probably would have unfurled it. The end products of my efforts were a lot of sweat pouring off my body and a gain of about a knot, from 3 to 4. We have about six hours of daylight left. There is a full moon. I don’t yet know what I’m going to do tonight. 3:45 p.m. The wind was very light, only 4 and 5 knots, and our speed dropped to below 3 knots. I came up 10º to give us a slightly better angle, which brought us back above 3 knots. In the last ten minutes the wind has increased and we are now making 5 knots. I wanted to be certain I can furl the G2, so I tried. The sail furled. I let it back out. It unfurled as it should. I still don’t know what I am going to do tonight. Just over three hours until sunset. 4:10 As I finished typing the last entry, the wind leapt from 5 knots to 15 due to clouds to windward that may turn into something. I successfully furled the G2 and got it below. We are now making 5.8 under main alone, but with the wind so far aft I am concerned about an accidental gybe. I have put a preventer on the boom, but will probably lower the main and sail under jib alone. 4:25 Main down. Sailing under jib. 4.7 knots. Much less traffic as we move north. No more ships. Two or three power boats and the same number of sailboats, all motorsailing with only main up. Structures on Tangier Island, of which I’ve read in books about crabbing, visible 5 miles east of us. 5:00 pm Rain and a partial rainbow to the east. The five mile wide mouth of the Potomac River to the west. Mainsail back up. It has been a busy hour. Our speed dropped to below 3 knots. I’ve come up 10º to get a better wind angle. Speed 3.3. 6:20 pm I thought sunset was about 7:00, but the sun is not far above the horizon now. Six pelicans flew past in line. Ismael Lo is singing, ‘L’Amour a Tout Les Droits’ with which if I translate the French correctly, I certainly agree. A sliver of rainbow far to the east. Over the ocean I believe, beyond the peninsula. GANNET is two miles west of Smith Island, making 4.5 knots in 24’ of water. I believe it is going to be a lovely full moon night and I am going to sail on for a while and maybe all night. If the wind dies I can anchor in place. I read that the average depth of Chesapeake Bay is 21’/6.4 meters. I may be able to snatch some sleep. If not I’ll do without, heave to, or anchor. September 26, Wednesday Chesapeake Bay 6 a.m. I sailed through the night. Very light wind, making only 2 and 3 knots. The full moon was largely obscured by overcast. Five ships passed, none close, heading south. I managed to doze sitting at Central. I set alarms on my iPhone several times, but always woke before they went off. We still have about 25 or 30 miles to go. St. Michaels is on the east side of a peninsula, so we have to round the north end and then come back south five miles. The forecast is for a cold front, rain and strong wind tonight. I hope I am at St. Michaels before that happens. 8:30 Finally moving. 2.4 knots. Not much, but better than 0.7 which is what we have been making the past two hours. 11:15 Wind went directly astern and we were able to sail wing and wind for a while. Now it has backed SSE and we are making 3.4 knots on a starboard broad reach. Almost to Poplar Island beyond which we turn NE for eight or nine miles, before a final, twisting 5 miles south to St. Michaels. I put the Torqeedo on the stern. It started. I removed the tiller arm so I could tilt the shaft out of the water. I don’t want the drag or sound of the prop spinning as we sail. So far a sunny day. Four other sailboats came out from behind Poplar island. Wednesday evening. I tied to a dock at the Chesapeake Maritime Museum at 3:40 this afternoon. Good wind of 14-15 knots came as we neared and rounded Poplar Island which appears to be man made and still in the making. A crane on a floating platform, a barge full of rocks, and a tug boat blocked my intended course to the northeast after I cleared what had been the north end of Popular Island. I swung wide and GANNET made 6 and 7 knots for the 9 mile leg. Other boats were around, both power and sail. I lowered the Torqeedo back into the water and reattached the tiller arm before we rounded the northern point for the five miles south to St. Michaels. With south wind, we were close hauled. On the approach to St. Michaels there is a shoal that can be passed on either side, then a basin of deeper water, followed by a narrow channel into the harbor. At its narrowest point it is only 88 yards/80 meters wide. With the wind right on the nose, that would have required more short tacks than a sleepless old man wanted, so I sailed only around the first shoal. With sun glaring on the water, I found it difficult to locate marker buoys and the iNavX in the iPhone was invaluable. I followed the right courses on the chartplotting software, also watching the depthsounder, and the buoys eventually appeared where they were supposed. My initial impression of St. Michaels is that it is an exceptionally nice nautically oriented place. Those I have met thus far at the Maritime Museum have been very welcoming and friendly. I have had a hot shower. Excellent. A crab cake sandwich. O.K. And a margarita. Excellent. I am about to pour some air temperature Plymouth and hope for a deep night’s sleep, though often after passages, even one as short as this, the first night is transitional. As always after sailing GANNET for even a few days, the land persists in moving under me for a while. GANNET’s interior is a disaster, in anchoring, passage, harbor mode all at once, which can also be described as chaos. I will deal with it tomorrow. As nearly as I can determine we sailed about 100 miles from the anchorage at Mobjack Bay to St. Michaels. That is what I am going to call it. ———— While I was drinking Michael’s gin—that is what friends are for—lighting, thunder and heavy rain descended on us. This was forecast and was motivation for my all nighter. I wanted to beat it and I did. Raining still, but not as hard. Wavelets lapping at GANNET.

Mobjack Bay, Virginia to St. Michaels, Maryland September 2018

As is known, when I start sailing I like to keep going.

My initial intention was to daysail the roughly one hundred miles north in Chesapeake Bay to Saint Michael’s, Maryland. I didn’t. I did it in one thirty-three hour bite.

This wasn’t a passage, so this isn’t a passage log. I don’t know what it is and labels aren’t essential anyway.

I slept well last night, having to get up twice to adjust dock lines.

Overcast this morning and pleasantly cool.

Before breakfast I imposed order on chaos and GANNET is again livable in semi-passage mode.

I have email to catch up with and then look forward to exploring Saint Michaels.

--------

September 25/26, 2018

I woke at 6:00 to a starry sky and light east wind.

I raised the mainsail and then the anchor. Anchor up at 6:20 and, after I unfurled the jib, we were gliding southeast at 3 knots.

We had to sail southeast for 5 miles to clear Mobjack Bay.

I tacked at 7:45 and we sailed 030º until we cleared the interestingly named Wolf Trap Light and could fall off to 000º.

For a while the wind was 12 knots and GANNET was sailing at 6, but gradually the wind has fallen to 6 and 7 knots and our speed to 4-4.5. Seas almost smooth. Bright sunshine, though thunderstorms are possible for this afternoon.

I saw several dolphin earlier. A tug towing a barge passed heading south.

Sailing with hatches open.

In addition to the automatic Yellowbrick updates every six hours I am sending manual updates from time to time to show our track more accurately.

1 p.m. The wind has continued to veer to the southeast and weaken. Now less than 5 knots.

An hour ago I decided to set the G2. It was a huge hassle. I had not used the sail since sometime last year. The lower drum was frozen. I managed to unfreeze it, raised the furling gear and the sail refused to unfurl. I lowered the furling gear. Found all parts that ought to move to be moving freely. Raised the furling gear. Sail unfurled about one quarter. I looked aloft to see if the spinnaker halyard was fouled. It wasn’t. I went forward and turned the drum by hand, unfurling the bottom third of the sail. However the top two-thirds remained furled. I went back to the cockpit and pumped the sheet in and out. Finally the sail unfurled completely. I conclude that it simply had been furled too tightly for too long. Stronger wind probably would have unfurled it.

The end products of my efforts were a lot of sweat pouring off my body and a gain of about a knot, from 3 to 4.

We have about six hours of daylight left. There is a full moon. I don’t yet know what I’m going to do tonight.

3:45 p.m. The wind was very light, only 4 and 5 knots, and our speed dropped to below 3 knots. I came up 10º to give us a slightly better angle, which brought us back above 3 knots. In the last ten minutes the wind has increased and we are now making 5 knots.

I wanted to be certain I can furl the G2, so I tried. The sail furled. I let it back out. It unfurled as it should.

I still don’t know what I am going to do tonight. Just over three hours until sunset.

4:10 As I finished typing the last entry, the wind leapt from 5 knots to 15 due to clouds to windward that may turn into something. I successfully furled the G2 and got it below. We are now making 5.8 under main alone, but with the wind so far aft I am concerned about an accidental gybe. I have put a preventer on the boom, but will probably lower the main and sail under jib alone.

4:25 Main down. Sailing under jib. 4.7 knots.

Much less traffic as we move north. No more ships. Two or three power boats and the same number of sailboats, all motorsailing with only main up.

Structures on Tangier Island, of which I’ve read in books about crabbing, visible 5 miles east of us.

5:00 pm Rain and a partial rainbow to the east. The five mile wide mouth of the Potomac River to the west.

Mainsail back up. It has been a busy hour. Our speed dropped to below 3 knots. I’ve come up 10º to get a better wind angle. Speed 3.3.

6:20 pm I thought sunset was about 7:00, but the sun is not far above the horizon now.

Six pelicans flew past in line. Ismael Lo is singing, ‘L’Amour a Tout Les Droits’ with which if I translate the French correctly, I certainly agree. A sliver of rainbow far to the east. Over the ocean I believe, beyond the peninsula. GANNET is two miles west of Smith Island, making 4.5 knots in 24’ of water. I believe it is going to be a lovely full moon night and I am going to sail on for a while and maybe all night. If the wind dies I can anchor in place. I read that the average depth of Chesapeake Bay is 21’/6.4 meters.

I may be able to snatch some sleep. If not I’ll do without, heave to, or anchor.

September 26, Wednesday

Chesapeake Bay

6 a.m. I sailed through the night. Very light wind, making only 2 and 3 knots. The full moon was largely obscured by overcast. Five ships passed, none close, heading south. I managed to doze sitting at Central. I set alarms on my iPhone several times, but always woke before they went off.

We still have about 25 or 30 miles to go. St. Michaels is on the east side of a peninsula, so we have to round the north end and then come back south five miles.

The forecast is for a cold front, rain and strong wind tonight. I hope I am at St. Michaels before that happens.

8:30 Finally moving. 2.4 knots. Not much, but better than 0.7 which is what we have been making the past two hours.

11:15 Wind went directly astern and we were able to sail wing and wind for a while. Now it has backed SSE and we are making 3.4 knots on a starboard broad reach. Almost to Poplar Island beyond which we turn NE for eight or nine miles, before a final, twisting 5 miles south to St. Michaels.

I put the Torqeedo on the stern. It started. I removed the tiller arm so I could tilt the shaft out of the water. I don’t want the drag or sound of the prop spinning as we sail.

So far a sunny day. Four other sailboats came out from behind Poplar island.

Wednesday evening. I tied to a dock at the Chesapeake Maritime Museum at 3:40 this afternoon.

Good wind of 14-15 knots came as we neared and rounded Poplar Island which appears to be man made and still in the making. A crane on a floating platform, a barge full of rocks, and a tug boat blocked my intended course to the northeast after I cleared what had been the north end of Popular Island. I swung wide and GANNET made 6 and 7 knots for the 9 mile leg. Other boats were around, both power and sail.

I lowered the Torqeedo back into the water and reattached the tiller arm before we rounded the northern point for the five miles south to St. Michaels. With south wind, we were close hauled.

On the approach to St. Michaels there is a shoal that can be passed on either side, then a basin of deeper water, followed by a narrow channel into the harbor. At its narrowest point it is only 88 yards/80 meters wide. With the wind right on the nose, that would have required more short tacks than a sleepless old man wanted, so I sailed only around the first shoal. With sun glaring on the water, I found it difficult to locate marker buoys and the iNavX in the iPhone was invaluable. I followed the right courses on the chartplotting software, also watching the depthsounder, and the buoys eventually appeared where they were supposed.

My initial impression of St. Michaels is that it is an exceptionally nice nautically oriented place. Those I have met thus far at the Maritime Museum have been very welcoming and friendly.

I have had a hot shower. Excellent. A crab cake sandwich. O.K. And a margarita. Excellent.

I am about to pour some air temperature Plymouth and hope for a deep night’s sleep, though often after passages, even one as short as this, the first night is transitional.

As always after sailing GANNET for even a few days, the land persists in moving under me for a while.

GANNET’s interior is a disaster, in anchoring, passage, harbor mode all at once, which can also be described as chaos. I will deal with it tomorrow.

As nearly as I can determine we sailed about 100 miles from the anchorage at Mobjack Bay to St. Michaels. That is what I am going to call it.

————

While I was drinking Michael’s gin—that is what friends are for—lighting, thunder and heavy rain descended on us. This was forecast and was motivation for my all nighter. I wanted to beat it and I did.

Raining still, but not as hard. Wavelets lapping at GANNET.