In the Caribbean, Not Cruising, But Sailing

In January the Vogler Siblings and spouses went cruising, not on small boats, but with Viking Cruise Lines. We made calls in 8 Caribbean ports and had a fabulous visit to each.

Back row is Bill Vogler, Jill Rendleman, the chef, Cynthia Weller, Jeff Doherty, Barbie Doherty

Seated row is Jim Weller, Linda Vogler, Rick Brown

As part of our cruise, we had a day long catamaran adventures from St. Kitt to Nevis, and another to snorkeling sites and a beach in St Maarten, with Jim and a Linda Vogler.

St. Ma

The  island of Nevis

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That's What Friends Are For

Our main sail had troubled us all the way down the coast, refusing to pull out at all on the last leg of travel. On a day sail, we had to face the fact that the sail was thoroughly and miserably jammed and we needed help. Friends, Rich, Luke, and Tim, came through with lots of muscle, equipment, and advice. Rick was up the mast for almost 2 hours, pushing, pulling, prodding, while Luke and Cookie manned the cockpit lines, 2 safety lines, inhaul, outhaul, boom vang and main halyard. Tim and Rich provided and rocking pressure to coordinate with Rick's efforts.

After almost two hours, success! OK, so we had to patch 8 small rips with tape, but we have our mainsail once again. 

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Water Like Glass

Finally, on November 18, 2019, our busy land life allowed us to cast off lines from the remnants of Dataw Marina and head south, chugging down the Morgan River and the long St Helena Sound channel. We had hoped to get in a few hours of good sailing. Winds were predicted to drop off late in the afternoon, but alas, the breezes sank quickly and after a single hour of sailing, the engine was required. Traveling south, through gentle breezes and pebbled skies, we moved into darkness and through the night. Daylight brought some blue above and below, but emptiness stretched again through a mottled sky at sunset and a starry night. Into the the dark, with a sea like glass, we moved across endless hours of emptiness. Around Cape Canveral's shores with its vast array of blinking red lights and tall lit buildings, Wind Dancer motored quietly. We arrived at dawn at Fort Pierce,  refueled and continued down the Florida coast to Lake Worth and anchored to rest at last. From Lake Worth, we steamed south again to spend Thanksgiving Day, November 22nd in Fort Lauderdale at the City Docks at Las Olas. Always a pleasure to be in Lauderdale. We stretched our legs and ate turkey that had been cooked and frozen at home and enjoyed the town, amazed by the mushrooming growth of rented scooters that zipped along sidewalks and streets. Friday was light southerly breezes and we motored on to Dinner Key where we moored for 2 days in sight of the lights of Miami.

Sunday and Monday, we continued our course, motoring through mirrored seas from Bimini Bay to Rodriguez and Rodriguez toward Marathon.

As we left Marathon, favorable winds at last! But what's this? The mainsail balks and jams tight into the mast. Despite Herculean efforts by Rick, no mainsail. And so, we finish our long trip to Boca Chica, the first one motoring he entire trip. Hope it is the last.

To Fernandina Beach and Home Again

 June 7th, 2018
Our furthest point south became Fernandina Beach. Still suffering from the effects of Hurricane Mathew in 2016, the marina has recently received permission to redesign docks and dredge the marina property. In the meantime, there is no electricity, no fuel, but the mooring balls are available. At Fernadina Beach, we enjoyed lunch with good friends from Boca Chica who made the drive over from Jacksonville and Kingsland.

A dinghy ride through the marshes of Fernandina Beach on a Sunday morning revealed several roseate spoonbills feeding by the water.

Fernandina Beach also brought us our third nasty thunderstorm, which reminded us that in summer, the coast explodes with heat, humidity, and storms. The trip has been another wonderful adventure but, maybe it was time to head north again.

We returned as we had come, stopping at St. Simon, this time grabbing the last slip with electricity, and back through the Wassaw Sound in Georgia. This time, however, we turned left up the Skidaway river to visit Isle of Hope, the nice little marina on the back side of Skidaway. Isle of Hope is a beautiful place and the marina has bikes for use. We borrowed them to see Wormsloe, a state park, which encompasses the property of one of the original settlers of Georgia. The family still owns about 50 acres and a beautiful home inside the park and shares the entry drive, a mile and a half of the most beautiful dirt road in the US. Soaring maritime oaks arch over the road for its entirety. The park boasts many trails, lots of history, and the ruins of the original house.

This is a great stop for anyone traveling the intercoastal. We also had dinner with our Weitzell co-grandparents, who live on Skidaway. The trip there offered us an additional thunderstorm to bolster the decision that summer coastal cruising is not without its negatives.

Isle of Hope also offered us another magical view, a farewell vista for the trip as it sent us off with a serene early morning.

Cumberland Island, More to See

 Cumberland Island, a place much enjoyed in 2013, invited us to return to see what else was there. Our first day, we spent walking through the beautiful forest of maritime oaks, seeing again the lovely mansion ruins of decadence in a time long past. Herds of horses and wild turkeys continue to make the grounds picturesque. This time we found a fawn hiding beneath a picnic table while the mother fed on grasses that have grown within the mansion walls. Later, we walked the endless dirt road back to the sea camp and dinghy dock.

On the second day, we biked the same road, the only road,  6 miles north, viewing cemeteries, miles of empty beaches, wild pigs, turkeys, more herds of horses,  the ghosts of a golf course, cotton fields now become meadows, and more luscious maritime forests.

 Our final day, we had booked a Lands and Legacies tour, which turned out to be excellent. Mike, the tour guide was a born story teller, who, if he stretched the facts to fit the story, instead gave us a feel for the times and people who lived on the island. We felt we knew the young golf pro, who came with so much hope and died in a horse riding accident within the year. We knew powerful, dictatorial Lucy Carnegie, whose demands for excellence in her workers, if not in her children, shaped the island today. We could see Miss Margaret, the petulant, spoiled wife of Lucy's youngest son George, who lived for a while in Plum Orchard. We attended the wedding of John Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette in the tiny African American chapel, and we were wary of the wild woman botanist, who lives next door to the chapel and who killed a man and hates the tourism on the island.We extensively toured Plum Orchard, the Carnegie mansion built for the youngest Carnegie son, and the saw beautiful vistas at the north end of the island, much farther from the dinghy dock than our bike ride over sand roads in 95 degree heat had allowed us to visit.

Start of Our Mini-Cruise

After a long winter of Wind Dancer sitting idle, we are ready to travel. Her shakeup sail to Charleston and back for the race revealed no major issues. We left with no clear plan beyond Cumberland Island. Our first stop Thunderbolt Marina, and a motor through the intercoastal for a meeting about new cushion covers. We enjoyed the little town of Thunderbolt and stayed two days before setting off on our first destination St. Simons Island, Georgia.

The Brunswick entry channel is long and full of current. There we encountered our first and worst storm. Lightning, thunder, gusts over 30, and buckets of heavy rain.

St. Simons was just as charming and just as hot as we remembered. The dock master kindly allowed us space at the fuel dock when we arrived at 6:30 after a 12 hour sail, but we had to move to a slip without power the next morning. We borrowed marina bikes and biked through much of the southern end of the island. St. Simon was just as charming and just as hot as we remembered from our previous trip. The lighthouse, the town dock, the busy stores, ice cream shops, restaurants, all blended to make a great stop. Fortunately, a late afternoon storm cleared the air and lowered the temperature to allow comfort without air conditioning and a beautiful evening sky.

Charleston to Hilton Head Indigo Cup Ocean Racing-May 18-19, 2018

Poor Wind Dancer, neglected since October, needed some sail time. So, we entered the Indigo Cup Ocean Racing event, run by the Charleston Yacht Club. This race starts at 6:00 pm at the downtown waterfront and finishes around the first red buoy marking the entrance to the Port Royal Sound. Rick recruited a worthy crew of sailors for the race, Scott Johnson, who attended the Maine Maritime Academy,Luke Sand, our buddy boat partner, and Nic Waterman, who has raced Beneteaus of his own in the past. To reach the start, Rick and Cookie had to take the boat to Charleston, which we did. Half way there, on a windless afternoon, the engine alarm went off. The light flashed. The beeper sounded frantically.

In Cookie's mind: "Arghhh! , it's happening again! Somethings wrong with the engine! We'll have to call Sea Tow! We're miles from anywhere. We might float out to sea. We might float up on the rocky shore. We'll be here all night helpless in the dark. We're doomed!"

In Rick's mind: "Hmm guess I'd better get out the manual and see what that means so I can repair it and we'll be on our way". So he did and we were.
 
 Fortunately, Cookie has learned to keep all hysterical reactions in her head.

Crew arrived by 3: 00 pm, obligatory photos were taken.

The race started with light winds, pushing them out of Charleston Harbor. All well and good. But once out in the Atlantic, the winds dropped and dropped and dropped. All night long, the crew watched the limp sails as the moved along at 1 or 2 knots. Very discouraging night for all the racers. The lack of wind continued all morning, with Rick calculating and recalculating to find the critical moment when they might call it over and motor on in to at least make the race party on Saturday night. Their one mark of encouragement was seeing some of the racers behind them as daylight blossomed. They took several votes during the morning, finish? call it a day? At 11;00, the air stirred, slightly. Speed increased to 3 knots, then 4! By noon they were flying along at 7-8.5 knots. This was what they signed on for! At 2;30, they crossed the finish line! The last 2 and 1/2 hours made up for everything!

After the race, crew and wives headed for the Race Party at Windmill Harbor, where they heard that they had captured 2nd place in their division, which was class D, non-spinnaker, cruisers.

This was a thrill. Second place in the first real Ocean Race for Wind Dancer. A good story, a good ending. But wait, that's not the end. The story gets better. The discovery was made that an incorrect  PHRF was applied to Wind Dancer. Once that was corrected, new headlines were announced! Wind Dancer wins her class! First place in her first Ocean Racing experience. That called for a new photo, once the winning flag was received.

Nic couldn't make it, but the others gathered for a first place shot. Life is good.