BETTY ANN

It is late in the summer and Pete calls.

Heard from Archie yet? I need to get back on the water!

Timing is everything,  Archie had called earlier to confirm his crew so I told Pete the BETTY ANN would be leaving Point Judith October 9th. He immediately signed on so I called Archie to let him know, unfortunately, I also had to tell him Andrew would not be making this trip. His new job in Austin, TX started earlier in the summer and he has no vacation accrued. So me, Pete and Archie will make up a shorthanded crew, Hmmmm,  not good for the watch standing schedule.

SUNDAY – TUESDAY

We meet at the boat on a fine autumn morning, load aboard and stow our gear. Pete has recently returned from New Hampshire so the Rum Locker is completely stocked with Captain M. Nice!

There is a 38 foot sloop at the fuel dock that had had a run-in with a fishing trawler in the fog. Apparently the boat got under the outrigger boom, snapped the fore stay and broke the mast at the first spreader. The boom was lashed to the side and the rigging piled up on deck – a real mess.  As we pull away from the dock we all appreciate the fact that, unlike the dense fog of last year, we have unlimited visibility, a fresh westerly breeze and warm sun to bid us on our way.

We exit West Gap, and Archie mentions the wind direction instrument stopped working properly after Hurricane Irene and we need to re-calibrate it. To do this the instructions are to make a slow 720 degree turn, wait for the instrument display to beep and flash and then to use a combination of button pushes to re-set the analog indicator at zero as the ship heads directly into the wind. Sounds like a good job for our absent crew member, the one most proficient with technology issues.  In any case, Archie makes the turn while I stand by the indicator and Pete heads up on deck to put wool strands on the stays as temporary tell tales.

720 degrees later, no beeping or flashing so we go around again. Still nothing but I push the required button sequence anyway to see what happens. No change, so we try a third 720 but this time in the opposite direction. We are all thinking the same thing – one of the boats in the area is going to call the Coast Guard to tell them we are drunk, lost our rudder or have some other kind of trouble.  Anyway we have no success so we set the sails and head south-south west comfortable in our knowledge that we can gage the wind well enough without the instrument.

Of course it didn’t  really matter because an hour later as we clear Montauk we turn directly into the wind, which then slowly drops to zero to remain there all the way down the coast to Chesapeake Bay entrance . Given the conditions (calm wind and dead flat seas) and the small crew, we set a 3 on 6 off watch schedule with no second person in the cockpit, without a doubt the simplest watch bill ever posted aboard  the BETTY ANN.

2011 southbound Watchbill

By the way, I haven’t mentioned our food provisions. Just because Larry couldn’t make this trip doesn’t mean we were going to go hungry . Before we left the dock he stocked us with his signature home-made Ribs, Chile and Chicken.  Try as we did we could never eat it all, as delicious as it was.

While we are all thankful for the flat calm seas, the  outcome was the most uneventful, one could say boring trip to date. Think about the classic definition of offshore sailing (days of tedium interspersed with moments of excitement) now take away the moments of excitement!  However, we did add to our body of knowledge regarding the ecosystem of the offshore New Jersey Sea Flies and the little finch-like birds that always visit the boat in these waters (Andrew has written about both on prior trips).

I discovered that if the flies, we stopped counting at 100, were put out on deck instead of down the cockpit scuppers as we murdered them the birds feasted on the carcasses. To our dismay we discovered the next morning that the well fattened birds had chosen to spend the night in the rigging and they shit all those flies back on deck!

The forecast is for a front to move through Monday. The old version of Captain Archie makes the suggestion that we could SCOOT around the cape and then duck in. Did he say scoot? That is a point of sailing neither Pete or I have heard before. We will have to add that mode to the autopilot!

Ultimately we all agree not to challenge  Cape Hatteras weather again so 49 hours 50 minutes of constant motoring later we pull into Tide Water Marina, Portsmouth, VA.  All of this presents a bit of a dilemma; Archie had suggested I buy 16 October return flight tickets from Norfolk and I had kidded him about taking his new leisure cruise philosophy way too seriously. Yet here we were in port on the 11th.  Pete and I aren’t going to stop here so we will need to cancel and re-book our return flight, probably from North Carolina.

We get things shipshape, relax with a cocktail and then the three of us take the water taxi to Norfolk to visit the Nautical museum which features the battleship Wisconsin.  It is a good museum even though you’re not allowed below decks or into the turrets like you are on the Massachusetts in New Bedford. The ship’s long and distinguished history, including being reactivated for the Gulf war, is well documented.  We eat at Crabby Joes restaurant and are pleasantly surprised with the food and the live entertainer (Pete names him Flounder for his look alike in Animal House), less so with the dancing wait staff.

On the ferry trip back Pete disappears, but I know where he can be found. Sure enough I go to the wheelhouse and he is there talking it up with Captain Ed, a retired Navy captain who gives us advice on where to find good pubs in Portsmouth. later, following up on our recent intelligence, and fortified with a dram or two of rum, Pete and I head back out around 8pm while Archie catches a nap at the nav station. At the Bier Garten Pub (beer from everywhere in the world but no hard liquor and no music) in answer to our question of where to find the latter the bar tender suggests The Stil, a couple of blocks away which he noted was a topless bar.  Who does he think we are, a couple of rowdy sailors in port for a good time? We get there to find a very classy, subdued below street level pub. I take a seat at the bar and Pete wanders through the several rooms, comes back and asks the barmaid if this is the only bar in the building. She answers yes and asks why the question. We break out laughing and Pete explains we were told this was a topless bar. I think perhaps he actually said top shelf bar she replies. And yes – all the very best brands of every possible liquor were lined up on the shelves in front of us.

A drink or two later we continue our quest  and we are told to try Griffs back on High St. But as we arrive it is closing, have we lost track of time, so we go across the street to Barons Pub where there is a lively crowd, good music and the tempting odor of pub food. We settle in and meet some interesting people including , Dallas the chef from another place down the street who confirms Griffs and Stil both have great food.  Also Stephan and Caitlyn, a wild couple who recommend Kraeken Rum. How do I remember all this you ask?, all items were dutifully recorded on a bar napkin labeled Most Important Document.

Most Important Document

Actually there was also a second most important document created the next evening but the waitress gave me the pen used to check for counterfeit money which uses essentially disappearing, invisible ink. Last call comes out of nowhere and we  find ourselves walking by The Deck Restaurant back at Tidewater Marina. We hear voices inside, and not ready to end the evening, head up the stairs where we are invited in to join a private party. At 0430 Archie leaves messages on our phones curious as to our whereabouts and hoping we have not ended up in the hospital or jail. Or, to use the bartenders expression for someone who has lost it ..were we Off our Chains ?

WEDNESDAY

Captain Kenyon mercifully lets us sleep in and we start down the ICW at 1000 fortified with a full breakfast of bacon and eggs. At 1345 we are docked on the front dock of the Atlantic Yacht Basin, Chesapeake City, a whopping 12 miles from Great Bridge. Pete and I agree we have set sail with Carnival Cruise lines. Dinner is at a new Italian Restaurant, Fabbrizis, a short walk from the marina. Pete orders meatballs even though they are not on the menu explaining any good Italian restaurant always has them available. Archie and I go with veal Marsala which turns out to be a delicious but low fat version of the traditional dish. The Chef visits the table to ask Pete how he liked the meatballs explaining it is a new recipe he happened to be trying out for tomorrows special. They get high marks.

As we walk back to the boat Archie asks me,  See any bars? No Archie I reply, this is a recovery port, no bars for us tonight.

THURSDAY

We take our departure at 0800 and tie up at Midway Marina, Coinjock, N.C. at1300. How we are keeping this torturous  pace. With time on our hands Pete and I decide to repair the masthead wind vane. I had checked it with binoculars at Tidewater and discovered the plastic rudder on the vane was broken off. Now we know why we couldn’t calibrate it. We haul Pete up the stick in a bosuns chair with Archie on the main winch and me tending a secondary safety line on the halyard winch. Pete brings down the unit and after brainstorming options I buy a couple of popsicles at the marina store. Pete buys some epoxy and in a couple of hours the new McGivered unit has been assembled, wind tunnel tested in front of the galley fan, is in place and appears to be working.

We celebrate with bloody marys and rum and head up to Crabbys Restaurant. The only other boat at the dock is USCG Buoy tender # 551034 and the crew is already in Crabbys. We buy them a round of drinks and have a good time talking with the BM1 in charge. He also gives us a great new expression when he refers to his wife as The Mammadant (take off on Commandant, get it?). We all have great meals, including wings to go, and the owner, Terry, explains he had fired the entire kitchen staff who had been ripping him off by telling them they had a choice – hit the road or go to jail.

FRIDAY

0720 departure for what will be our only long day. A trawler, LADY M, joins our bomb list by making an unannounced pass while we were feeling, literally,  our way under the Coinjock bridge. Pete provides appropriate commentary.

It is a breezy day, 20 KTS, but all on the nose as we cross the Albermare Sound so we can’t sail and can’t calibrate our new wind vane. Shortly before sunset we anchor just inside the Alligator-Pungo Canal in what will be known in the future as Pistachio Cove.

Pete  - You want some pistachio nuts Archie?

Archie – No thanks

Pete  - Wow, Archie these nuts are very stale!

Archie – Yeah, really old ones. Why do you think I said no when I love pistachio nuts.

SATURDAY

A perfect 10 morning and at sunrise after cleaning a ton of mud off the anchor we get underway for Belhaven. I make massive omelets breakfast  in a futile attempt to use up the supplies Larry has laid on board.  We slow for a bridge and a sportsfisher passes to port. Pete waves and the captain flips him the bird which gets quite a reaction from Pete. Ten minutes later Pete is at the helm and we slow for another boat who has called for a pass. From below Archie asks what is going on. Pete answers that another boat is passing.  Don’t  piss him off says Archie.

We finally get a chance to calibrate the wind vane as we approach the B&A Aeronautical Test Range on the Pungo River. We man our stations as on the first day but in celebration Pete replaces woolen telltales by holding our National Ensign on the fore deck . Although the unit still refuses to flash or beep as the manual specifies after the 720 degree turn it does accept the correction input as we head directly into the wind.  Archie even ventures that the popsicle sticks seem to work better than the original vane.

Georges Sport & Oyster Bar

Our last stop this leg is Dowry Creek Marina which we make early in the day. There are still a few boats careened up in the marsh compliments of Irene but the marina is in fine shape. Neighbors at the dock are heading into town and ask if  we need anything. Ice pick shouts Pete. They returned empty handed but Archie came back with a nice one in a wooden sheath.

It is a really hot day now that we are off the water so we truly enjoy the sight of our replacement crew, Jim Gieb, burdened with a couple of cases of Yeungling coming down the dock. Betty Ann is put ship shape, we shower and head out for dinner at Georges Sports and Oyster Bar.  This is the heart of NASCAR country, the races are on the TVs and we were even joined at our table by a celebrity.

Another great dinner and the end of another great trip.

 Additional photos

1. A new and safer ice pick replaces random knives from the drawer
2. Archie daydreams of rounding Cape Horn
3. Pete doing what he likes best

1. Requisite winch shot (not bad for a point-&-shoot hey Andrew)
2. Marlinespike duty in Pistachio Cove
3. Enjoying the captains comfy chair

Surprise, surprise!  I normally do only one leg of the delivery trips but this year Archie called to ask if I could do the final leg from Miami to Tamp Bay since someone else had to cancel.  Not one to decline an opportunity to sail, particularly this leg which would include a stop in sunny Key West in the middle of November, I readily agreed! The crew would be Archie, Larry, and me.

The flight to Miami was uneventful, and we stepped out into 80 degree plus warm humid air, Ahhh I love doing that, and hopped a cab to the downtown marina where BETTY ANN was awaiting. I checked out the boat, including the cold beer storage, while Archie and Larry went provisioning. I should go on that trip to the market some time to see Larry in action. I imagine it to be like a mother shopping with an active child.

“Look Archie, these steaks are prime grade!”

“But do we really need 5 pounds for the three of us?”

“Hey Archie, bacon is on sale – four pounds for the price of three!”

“But we are only at sea for four days, wouldn’t one pound do it?”

Anyway, they came back heavily laden with top grade supplies which were stowed away and off we went for dinner in South Beach. With memories of $14 drinks in mind we went one block back from Ocean Drive, and found the Puerto Saqua cuban restaurant on Collins St. that looked interesting (and inexpensive). This was not to be Larry’s favorite place to eat. He ordered a non-alcoholic Becks but got the regular kind, he is still waiting for his lobster long after Archie and I are served, his meal is judged mediocre while ours is delicious. Maybe he said something that unknowingly pissed off the waitress?  It is obviously a very popular place with lines out the door and everyone else seemes to be having a good dinner.

Whatever, we walk back to the boat and turn in.  Good to be back on board!

Day One

We depart 0630 at first light and motor out the inlet into an easterly breeze, unfurl the sails and turn towards the south.  We are motor sailing at 8 knots when BETTY ANN decides to spring her surprise on us to see if we are worthy to continue. ( She seems to do this each trip lately (snapped halyard, parted jib outhaul, loose propeller shaft coupling, snapped main reefing line etc)  The engine temperature alarm sounds!  No real problem here, we can maintain our course while sailing and sort this out.  Archie goes below to check the raw water strainer and finds it has a bit of weed in it, but more worrisome is the fact the bottom of the screen has corroded off so it is basically useless, and we wonder what might have passed into the raw water pump or beyond. We decide to cannibalize the screen from the A/C unit since it is basically the same size, just needs to have an indent in the bottom drilled out to fit. This done we refire the engine but find the problem remains. Time for McGiver!   I configure the the valves to use the emergency bilge suction that works off the engine raw water pump. Nice, the alarm goes off so we know the pump is good and the system clear. Next I run the hose we use to shift fresh water between tanks and use it to back flush the intake. When everything is reconnected the problem is gone.

It is a really hot day with pretty good swells and Larry doesn’t fare well trying to work in the galley so breakfast and lunch are light.

We have used up a lot of time poking along while making repairs so the kinder, gentler Captain Archie decides we will be forced  to pull into Key Largo instead of making an night time entry into Marathon. Damn!  As we head in the Largo Canal there is a tight 90 degree bend known locally as Crash Corner.  A blind corner which requires a Sécurité transmission. Archie makes it and another boater answers with  Which crash corner? How many are there? answers Archie.

By 1500 we are docked and Arch and Larry have jumped in the pool. Funny thing about that pool. When I got there for some reason I read the large blue Pool and Spa Rules signs posted nearby; the rules were the same for each. My attention is drawn to Rule # 8 and I wonder what happened, and when, to make that rule necessary.  Swim call is over at 1700, we shower and head for dinner at Sharpies Pub, not more than 100 steps from the boat. The food is good, the beer is cold and there is live entertainment. The  first set is pretty good but the singer has a  female vocalist from N.Y.C. that joins him for the second set and she belts out jazz tunes in a really loud, high voice. Good thing a day at sea makes you very tired because she keeps singing long after we have turned in.

 Day 2

We are off early for Key West and enjoy 12 hours of a beam reach motor sail at 8-9 knots. Larry is back in the galley and serves a huge lunch.  As we approach the marina we are directed to a slip on the western side of the pier where we are met by Diane, the dock mistress. As Archie backs into the slip Diane steps to the very end to receive my bow line and the board gives way beneath her. This is not going to work she shouts, and we are directed to dock alongside the easternmost pier, opposite a spectacular 87 foot custom build Jim Smith Sportfisher named PATSEA. More about that later.

PATSEA our dock neighbor

Once secured, and after we spliced the mainbrace (I leave it to you to check the meaning of that salty phrase) we were off the The Schooner Bar.  Too late for Michael McCloud but Greg Walther, a good cover artist was taking requests so of course I asked for some John Prine and he sang Paradise, and Angel from Montgomery - wow – two of my favorites. He also had a really funny original song about a weather channel reporter sent to Key West to cover Irene. There was no wind or storm when he got there so the crew rigged a huge fan on the beach to get the effect.

Back at our slip we met the crew of PATSEA and got some particulars about the boat, but not a tour since the owners were due to arrive shortly for a birthday party. Anyway, power is twin 2400 HP MTU diesels which give a top speed of  45 knots, while burning close to 125 gallons of fuel per hour!

Day 3

After delicious breakfast waffles at Two Friends patio restaurant we head to the marine hardware store for replacement strainers and a repair parts kit for the broken safety line gate snap hook. (To get the part number, which was written upside down on the strainer I got so far into the compartment under the cabin floor that Larry had to pull me out by grabbing onto my shorts) Once the maintenance is completed it is back to the Schooner Bar for lunch, and a full afternoon of drinks and Michael McCloud music.  He puts on a good show with some new patter between songs, and a new, at least to me song about his dog Cinderella. Lyrics something like

I’m  going to grow old and die

I may not know just how, when or why.

Since my memory faded due to Captain and Coke consumption here is the YouTube link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wi2FvnnDry8

Michael McCloud, and The Professor

A woman sat down at a table in front of the stage and dropped some bread crumbs for the pigeons. McCloud stops in the middle of his song and explains how hard they work to keep the pigeons away because when one person feeds them they fly over someone else and shit on their head. “So what I am saying mam is don’t feed the fucking pigeons!”

About this time a crowd of people from a cruise ship pour into the bar and one of them is about fifty, overweight wearing cutoffs and a sleeveless t shirt, and adorned with unattractive tattoos over most of her body. Archie leans over and says, “She is someones Grandmother!”  How does he come up with these great one liners?

Manatee at the water bubbla

Back at the dock we notice a manatee had come to drink water from the hose PATSEAS crew were using to wash down the boat after returning from brief fishing excursion. Man, they are really strange creatures -live in the ocean but need fresh water to drink.

The forecast is for high winds to the north so we decide to hold off for a day!

Day 4

We get to enjoy another day in Key West and put it to good use. The bilge pump has been coming on but can not locate where the water is coming from, all the compartments except the one in the salon were dry, and we assumed that water was a result of opening the strainer the day before. However, after I bailed it out completely the cause is clear. I must have just cracked open the valve for the emergency bilge pump when trying to extricate myself  the day before and water was trickling in.

Larry and I wash down BETTY ANN and decide to get a coat of wax on the port side. The captain of the impeccable, mirror finished PATSEA, who wipes off every drop of dew with  a chamois cloth remarks on what a good job we are doing. I am sure he is thinking he would be fired on the spot if he ever did a job like it.

We head out for a great dinner at Pepe’s and turn in early  - back to sea tomorrow at first light.

I would be delinquent in my reporting if I didn’t mention that, as usual, whenever we have been within cell phone coverage Larry has been involved in several business negotiations. One of the highlights this trip is that a proposal he submitted to the Town Of Charlestown had not been acted on within the required time so was approved by default. (On visits to Town hall he had seen the box sitting under a desk).  So we expect to hear complaints about what I call “Larry’s Loophole” when we return.

Day 5

0630 and we are underway for Brayeton, the end of the line. We enjoy Northeast wind of 12-15 knots on the beam all day with the same forecast for all night. Bets are made between Larry and Archie regarding arrival time – 0800 and 0900 respectively.  I know the wager between a seasoned business man and  country lawyer who have worked together for years will be debated and justified no mater when we arrive. Was it when we hit the waypoint off Tampa Bay or when we docked at the marina? etc.  But BETTY ANN has her own ideas and we sail and motor sail (to charge the batteries) at 7-9 knots the entire way. At our rate of advance we arrive at our waypoint before sunrise and head into Tampa bay under power at 3 knots. We stop for fuel and arrive at twin Dolphins Marina at 0900.

With time on our hands Larry and I finish the wax job on the starboard side.

All shiny again

We go to the marina restaurant for dinner and the appetizers, cocktails and conversation are so good we forget to order our entrees.  Oh well, a taxi is coming for us way before the sun comes up so time to hit the sack.

May 30th, 2011

This sailing trip started a little different than some of the others, this would include no planes, and a scheduled layover in Baltimore for a day to visit with a new crew member’s family.  The new member is my friend Kelly, and he arrived at my parent’s house in Rhode Island around 9:00 AM.  The plan is to drive his car to Baltimore where his sister Kerry and her boyfriend James live.  We’ll hang out that night and then get on the boat in Annapolis.  Then Kerry will drive Kelly’s car back north to visit with their family.

The drive down is hot, and Baltimore is even hotter.  We arrive at Kerry and James’ apartment complex to 100 degree temperatures and 99.999% humidity.  Jokes are made about my upcoming move to Texas…”You’d better get used to it.”

After a quick settling in we’re off to Fells Point, MD for some drinks.  Our first stop is Max’s where we have a round of Loose Cannon – Heavy Seas.  This would be a very easy place to stay for a bunch more rounds, but we have limited time and want to make the most of this night out.

Our next stop is Woody’s Rum Bar for Painkillers (James has a rum punch and then switches to Painkillers when he sees our positive reaction to the mix).  It’s hot out on the patio, but the view of the water and the iced beverages keep us cool.  We seem to have developed a bit of a hunger so we make a diagonal path over to Shuckers for Flying Dog Pale Ale, oysters, and a “small” fry, which was “as advertised”.  Seriously, it was a coffee cup dish of french fries.  No bother, our real meal is slowly cooking back at the apartment.

We head back to James and Kerry’s for a rib fest which included the ribs (obviously), Bud Lights, Corn, Potato Salad, and coleslaw with vinegar.  James knows how to send sailors off right!

We watch Idiocracy and then fall asleep eager for the next day and the beginning of a new sailing adventure.

May 31st, 2011

Position: 38 57.931 N 76 25.417 W 

We are inundated with bugs!  I decide it would be great fun to keep track of how many bugs we have each killed and have it on a sort of leaderboard.  I start keeping track but soon realize that this would be a full-time job with the pace that these guys are nailing bugs.  Final tally at end (after a couple hours) stands at:

Jim:  10

Archie: 2

Andrew: 1

Kelly: 0

There were more hits, but I justs stopped writing them down because it was taking me away from other “pressing” matters every five minutes.

We make our way up towards the Chesapeake Delaware canal and finally make it into it.  Our first scheduled stop will be at the familiar Summit North.  We hail on the radio but receive no reply on channels 16 or 9, but cell phones work.  So goes the modern in-shore boating experience.

The dockhand struggles with the two lines while getting us situated on the long finger pier, but soon he has us secure.  This was a very different experience than we would have later on with the handlers at Liberty Landing New Jersey.

Our spot on dock is literally as far as possible from the store, showers and restaurant.  We have to walk halfway around the rectangular marina to get anywhere.  Whatever, the lure of fresh hot showers is very strong.

We turn AC on and crack open some Yuenglings (we need to start drinking beer that easier to spell). I attempt some pictures of an egret but am unable to get a good shot.

In the meantime, Archie returns from his walk all the way over to the marina office (no small feat in this heat and humidity).  He comes with bad news: no restaurant or bar!  They are closed for the holiday!  What?  That’s BS!

We have a shipboard meal and Kelly and Archie do dishes. After that it’s time for books and showers.  Kelly opts for the marina showers, while I elect for the ship shower (after triple-checking for the valve in the forward compartment).  Yeah, that’s a very important little valve.  In a couple of the previous journeys, one of the crew who shall remain unnamed forgot to open this valve.  This valve stands between the shower catch basin and the holding tank (or overboard drain depending on configuration).  In any case, the important part is that if you do not open this valve then the contents of your shower and up all over the coats and other articles of clothing in the locker.  Archie is not amused when this happens.

The shower and beautiful air conditioning work and sleep arrives fast, as it usually does on these journeys.

June 1, 2011 : 09:12 AM

We all slept in this morning since we had to wait for tides anyway.  We take this opportunity to feed ourselves up and Archie cooks up a slamming breakfast of English Muffins, scrambled eggs, bacon and coffee.  Pretty much the perfect breakfast anytime, but even better while sailing.

Kelly and I do dishes and then go topsides to fill ship’s water.  The process goes fast because the hose has a lot of pressure (no joke).  After completing this task we head off to the store to buy snacks and make use of the “facilities”.

While waiting for the bathroom to open up I see a cat sunning itself on the rail.  I walk over to pet it and immediately wish that I had not.  Maybe 15 years ago this was a nice fluffy cat…currently this feline is in a state of decay and the fur feels dirty, greasy and clumped under my hand.  He looks at me with an expression that says “Yeah, I know…I’m gross.”

After taking care of business I head inside the store looking to score some munchies which are always seem to be in short supply on a sailing trip.  This is the worst-stocked store I’ve ever seen.  There are maybe two shelves of chips and stuff, except they’re all no-name chips and pretzels.  There are also a couple flavors of pork cracklins, but not much else.  I find something to buy and then head back outside.

On my way out there is a hot chick walking in.  She must be on her way to open the restaurant or something, for sure she’s not going to be operating the pumpout boat.

Back on the boat we check the forecast which is for HOT, HOT, HOT!  Oh, by the way….today’s going to be HOT!  The radio actually says that elderly and animals should not be outside.  Animals?  Really?

Anyway, they didn’t say anything about sailors staying inside so we cast off, exit Summit, and turn left back onto the CND.

The Bruins play today!  I have it on good authority that they’re going to go all the way this year.  That’s why back in the middle of the season I put down $15,000 on the Bruins winning the cup at 5000 : 1 odds…so far so good, we’ll see! [Edit...wow, I really wish I had done that].

It’s already hot in the sun and it’s only 10:00.  When there’s a breeze it becomes fairly comfortable, but without it one quickly becomes sticky-hot; the worst kind.  We are all (I assume, I know I am) looking forward to the Atlantic portion of the sail, hoping that the forecasted winds and cool Atlantic water will chill us down.

The trip down Delaware River is uneventful, our plan worked and the tide changed about one-third of the way down and sucked us down the river.

I went down for a nap shortly after we entered the wide part of the Delaware.  While I was sleeping the topside crew began navigating through the “short route” around Cape May.

When I arrive back on deck, the Betty Ann has been settled on her course up the New Jersey coast.  That’s the best part about shipboard naps, it turns into time travel.

Dad makes burgers for dinner, which are awesome, but Archie is not too enthusiastic about the baked-on beef bits that are left on the griddle they were cooked on.  He was down in the galley for quite a while with the sound of scrubbing coming up from below.

After dinner the sun is beginning to set and the weather radio is going on about the possibility of thunderstorms and tornados.  We are very doubtful that we will see either because as far as we can tell there is nothing around us, and a quick check of the radar on my iPhone shows the closest activity is down in the DC area.  In any case, we decide to err on the side of caution and bring the sails in. [Unbeknownst to us, up in Massachusetts a tornado had already touched down at around 4:30PM killing four people.]

And then this…

When accidents happen on a boat, they usually happen quickly, and this was no exception.  The Betty Ann has roller furling on both the main sail and jib.  The way these work is that each sail has two lines, one to “pull the sail out” and one to “roll it back in”.  The line to bring the sail in is called the reefing line, and it’s also what keeps the sail safely stowed away.

What happened to us next borders on the unthinkable.  The reefing line for the main sail snapped and the main sail proceeded to come running back out to full set.  This is not good.

We sit dumbfounded as to what exactly we should do now.  The sun is going down, there is the possibility of thunderstorms and/or tornados.  Flying full sail is NOT the recommended sail plan for those conditions.

We decide that we have two options:

1. Bring down the main sail, or
2. Attempt a re-threading of the reefing line up the ‘reefing screw’, the contraption that spins to pull in the sail.

Winds are now 20 knots, and this, along with the wave action, would have made bringing in a large sail very difficult and dangerous.  Have you ever had an umbrella pulled out of your hands in a gust of wind?  Imagine that you have an umbrella the size of an a-frame on a house and think about trying to wrangle that to the deck of a rolling and pitching boat.

One concern with option number two is that the reefing line will be very hard to thread because it fits very snugly into the threads of the ‘reefing screw’.  This is where Kelly comes up with a fantastic idea to use a smaller diameter line.  It sounds obvious now as I write it (and maybe to you as you as you read this), but I can assure you that if he had not had that thought the rest of this story may have had a very different ending.  The crew decides that a re-threading attempt is in order.

Dad and Kelly don life jackets and harnesses, and after clipping into the jack lines (safety lines that run the length of the boat), go out on deck and up to the mast to attempt a re-threading.

After a few minutes inspection of the reefing corkscrew Kelly comes back to the cabin isinglass and shouts through for pliers and a screwdriver.  Pliers to pull the line, a screwdriver to push it.

Back in the cockpit Archie and I watch as they fiddle with the line and the furling corkscrew.

Another call comes back for allen wrenches.  Archie bounds down  the companionway ladder and returns moments later with the requested item.

Image not this cruise, but this is the "corkscrew"

They start working the new, smaller-diameter reefing line into the corkscrew from the bottom up.

I yell out, “Hey Dad!  Isn’t the end of the line in your left hand coming back to the cockpit?”

He nods, “Yeah?”

Time passes and they make a couple more wraps of line around the ‘corkscrew’.

I call out again, “Hey!”

“Yeah?” comes the reply through the wind outside.

“Do you think it might be easier to start at the top and work your way down?”  He looks back to the corkscrew and agrees.  Ad he continued it would have required passing the entire line through the corkscrew instead of threading it down to the bottom and leaving the rest on deck.

They get it wound up, set the locking bolt onto it with the allen wrench, and then send the remaining slack (from the top of the corkscrew) back to Archie and I in the cockpit.

We bring Betty Ann back into the wind (completely this time), and begin reefing again…

It works!  HUZZAH!  An extra round of grog for these men when we get to port!

With the sail in we can now turn back onto our intended course (we had been sailing forty-five degrees to the wind which in this case was sending us straight out to sea).  I put the boat in gear and begin out turn.  She seems very sluggish.  Oh well, we’re only going a couple knots and the rudder is hard over, maybe she’s just taking her time.  I add a little more throttle.

“Are you in gear?” Dad asks?

“Yeah, why?” I reply.

“It doesn’t seem like we’re moving.”

“Hmmmm, I think you might be right.”

The crew is stunned.We just fixed a major problem with our main sail and now we have another with our drivetrain?  This is impossible!  No really, the odds must be infinitesimally small and hugely improbable (kind of like my bet with the Bruins).

The crew begins troubleshooting in the cabin again.  We loft various ideas of what the trouble might be.  Did we lose the prop?  Is the shift linkage messed up?  Did something break in the transmission?  We shift back and forth between forward and reverse, and throttle up and down…nothing happens except for the engine revving up and down.

Dad and Archie go below to have a look.  Kelly and I stay topside and probably are both thinking the same thing; this is not good.  We have no sail out, and we have no propulsion.  This means we cannot steer and are currently just drifting with the wind (which is still blowing a steady 20 knots), and bouncing and rolling with the waves.

I think sailors, like athletes , are inherently superstitious.  Having two major problems in a row like this cannot bode well for our ship’s karma.  What did we do to make you angry Neptune?  Kelly and I sit in the cockpit waiting for word.

Kelly relays a command back to me from down below, “Shift into forward.”

A few moments pass.

“Back to neutral.”

A few moments pass.

“Shit into forward again.”  I am beginning to wonder what they’re looking at.  I have no other information except for what the state of the transmission should be in.   Thankfully Kelly relays another message back to me, this one a short description of the problem.  Kelly says, “They say they can see the shaft moving when you look in one door, but not when you look in another.”

Ok, apparently we have a magic shaft that only rotates when observed from certain locations, maybe it’s a quantum propeller shaft or something.  Whatever, I await further instruction.

Kelly relays another command, “DO NOT shift into gear!”

I wait another couple long minutes until a new command arrives, “Try it now.”

I shift into forward gear and turn to look behind me.  We have prop-wash!  Fuckin’ A!  Our crew has fixed and conquered another problem that would very likely have daunted a lesser crew.

I add more power and turn back to the north.  I wait until Archie is done with the dishes (he’s still grumbling about the messy griddle) to add full power and come completely back on course.  It felt good to be moving again and if I could do anything to ease Archie’s dish duty (especially after having been upside down fixing the propeller shaft), I was going to make that happen.

Tonight would be an overnight sail to New York City.  Our plan is to arrive in the early morning.  Dad draws up the watch schedule for the night.  It’s a pretty standard schedule.  I was at the wheel when the schedule was made, so it started off with me at the wheel from 8:00PM to 10:00PM, and then on standby from 10:00PM to 12:00AM when dad would be at the wheel.  Archie would relieve my dad at midnight and I would go to bed.  Kelly would be on helm 02:00AM to 04:00AM when I would arrive to relieve him, and he would go on standby until 06:00AM.  Explaining these watch schedules always sounds complicated, but in reality you only need to know one thing when you’re a crew member…who do I wake up.

During my time on deck there was a series of radio calls from United States Navy Warships informing us that they would be doing live fire and rudder tests.  Their position was well east of us, but after a couple rounds of these warnings a new voice came on the radio, this one in a very thick middle-eastern accent, “Please to be telling again what are the coordinates of the live fire?”

My dad and I had a good laugh at this and entertained ourselves by repeating this radio call between ourselves for the next hour or so.  You find any way you can to keep yourself alert during night watches.

Soon we noticed bright flashes off our starboard (right) side – the same general direction of the Navy ships’ reported positions.  We listen for a boom but hear none.  Soon there are flashes every few seconds.  We are hoping that these are the result of the live fire exercises, but were pretty sure that it was only heat lighting.  The storm continued through the rest of my watch, and I would find out later, the rest of the night.

As scheduled, at midnight I go below and leave Betty Ann in the capable hands of Archie and dad.  Minutes after going to sleep however a loud alarm pierces through the darkness of the saloon (the area of our boat that would normally be considered the “living room” or “dining room”, it serves both functions, currently it is also acting as “bedroom” to two sleepy sailors, Kelly and myself).

Kelly and I pop up out of our bunks, and look out into the blackness of the cabin.  I had never heard this alarm before, and certainly Kelly on his first cruise with the Betty ann never had either.  I had no idea what it was, but alarms are never good.  After the events of the evening I think we were both prepared for anything.  What now?  Bilge alarm?  Engine oil alarm?

The engine slows down and Kelly and I look at each other.  We looked like two meerkats on alert with our heads rotating around.  However, the alarm stops and we soon hear the engine RPMs increase  back to normal cruising power.  Satisfied that there is no emergency Kelly and I both crawl back into our bunks and drift back to sleep.

What seemed like a short thirty minutes later we are again awoken by the same alarm; I hope this isn’t going to be a recurring problem.  Actually, I always find that on overnight watches it seems to be when I’m off duty that stuff like this happens.  It’s either some loud noise, or the sails need to be changed, or the jib sheets decide to come free.  I suppose it’s just that human nature thing of “why do the bad things always seem to happen to me?” when in reality it just feels that way.

In any case, Kelly and I are already accustomed to this drill.  Instead of popping into meerkat pose we both just roll our heads and look up at the companionway.  This alarm ends like the first did and nothing happens.  We both return to sleep.

The two alarms are indicated on my watch schedule picture by two squiggly lines in the “12″ box.

June 2, 2011 : 04:00 AM

I am back up on deck at 4AM to relieve Kelly at the wheel.  To my surprise the sky is already beginning to lighten.  I realize that this is because other cruises I have been on were always earlier in the year when sunrise comes later.  It is June instead of the May that this leg usually occurs on.

Kelly and I discuss the alarms from last night, but apart from that not much happened in these early morning hours.  A welcome respite from the drama of the last 12 hours.

Kelly snoozes like a complacent cat in the blue comfy chair while the sun rises.  When Kelly goes below and my dad comes on deck I decide that a snooze in the blue comfy chair is just what the doctor ordered.  The rising sun feels great on my chilled body and I soak up every last drop.  I continually re-position myself for maximum sun exposure as the sun rises and the boat makes minor course corrections.  After my “on standby” watch ends at 08:00AM I decide that I will continue my sleep down in the saloon.

June 2, 2011 : 09:00 AM

Awake at 09:00AM and come on deck to see the Verrazano bridge in the distance.  We are navigating through the entrance to New York harbor and Sandy Hook.  It is a veritable  cornucopia or red and green buoys, as well as permanent lights that mark the multiple channels to these two locations.  Kelly arrives on deck soon after I am up so I didn’t need to go wake him up after all.

Archie makes pancakes which are good and much-appreciated.  As we eat we watch some tugboats getting floated onto a giant floating drydock.  The winds are high which must be making their job all that much more difficult.

Soon after we see the Trump helicopter fly overhead and then up ahead something even more amazing.  There appears to be a tallship coming down the river towards us.  A little closer and we see her unfurl even more sails and soon she us cruising by on our starboard side.  A little research later on would reveal that this is the Maltese Falcon, a 289 foot privately-owned yacht.  Not really a tallship, but a modern sailing yacht equipped with an equally modern “tallship rig”.   Quite a sight to behold.

Soon afterwards we make our standard left-hand turn into Liberty Landing marina.  Remember those winds I mentioned?  We were a bit concerned about our upcoming arrival.  After some back-and-forth with the marina on the radio we discovered that were were assigned a spot that was going to be difficult to get into, with not much room for error.  We raced to complete the required lines for a “port side to tie up”.  It always seems that there is just enough time to get all the lines and fenders ready.  Maybe it’s some sort of conspiracy between boat capitans and marina crew, let’s see how fast these guys an do this.  In any case, it was lucky for us the dock crew was superb and despite the wind attempting to rip us away from the pier, their “capitan” shouted orders around and they quickly had us tied up and safe.

As usual, the boat crew is more than ready for a spot of shore leave.  First we need to tidy up though.  So we wash the boat, wash the people, and then get on a water taxi headed for Battery Park NYC!

Our first stop was PJ Chapman’s (I think that’s what it’s called) for beers where I started with a Sam Summer.  We soon realized that the showers we took back at the marina were unnecessary.  The wind from earlier in the day returned to haunt us as it picked up the water from the nearby waterfall and sprayed everyone nearby.

We paid our tab and took the short walk over to the Tower viewing site.  We also took this occasion to re-fill our wallets with cash at a nearby ATM.

Begin “March to Stone Street” for dinner…

After some aid by our smartphone GPSs and a helpful New York native we found Stone Street, or at least what we thought was our destination.  It didn’t look quite as it was described to us, a cobblestone street with outdoor seating from five or six restaurants.  We’re sailors though, and we saw a bar called Murphy’s and went in. While inside we learned that we were on the “wrong side” of Stone Street, ahhh, that explains it.  Since we were in Murphy’s we decided to have a few beers including a Leinenkugel Sunset Wheat (didn’t get high marks).  Do not recall what the other few beers were, but Kelly and I sampled a few from the bar’s menu.

The bartender was sympathetic to our cause of needing to get to the “restaurant side” of Stone Street and gave us directions.  “You need to walk around the Goldman Sachs building.  The rest of Stone Street is on the other side.” he said.

“Well,” I asked, “Can we just go through the building?”

“What?”  he guffawed, “You can’t walk through buildings!”

Now confident of our final destination and well-lubricated with libations, we resume our march to other side of stone street.  It turns out that we could have done exactly as I was thinking, we could have gone through the “lobby level” and ended up where we needed to be, whatever, no bother.

After a walk up and down the “real” Stone Street checking out the different outdoor seating availabilities, we decide on the Dubliner…might as well stay with the Irish theme.  We have more beer, and I had some pork short ribs which were awesome.

Soon afterwards my cousin Chris showed up and joined us for a few more rounds.  Seated behind us were some Wall Street types who were busy pounding their chests about whatever trades it was they had made that day.  They were loud but harmless enough, and part of the “New York Experience” I guess. As happens when the beers are flowing the time and conversation slipped by and suddenly it was time to go.  Chris led us back to a bridge that would get us back to Battery Park and our water taxis.

We stay inside the taxi where it is warm and soon we are delivered back to Liberty Landing.  We ramble back to the Betty ann where we all have good laughs over the “matchstick boat” story conclusion.  While burying ourselves into our blankets, dad and I come up with a grand bar scheme (a scheme that can only be conjured in the presence of alcohol and has little chance of ever being put into practice, especially after sobering).  Our scheme concerned a wedding party that we had observed earlier:

The Grand Bar Scheme

1. Find a wedding at a marina.
2. Show up dressed as a pirate.
3. Announce:  “I be hired to tell ye of the ways of marriage!”
4. “But first I be needing a glass with ice, for every marriage starts with a strong foundation, like a bed of rock.”
5. [someone gets you a glass with ice] “Ahhh….thank you”
6. “SECOND!  I be needing some RUM!  For every marriage needs some fire!  And you know what, throw some lime in there as well, that can represent the sour spots that will be overcome.”
7. “Now boys, I’m sorry to tell ya, but the ladies be needin’ some flowery shite in there too, so throw in some pineapple juice and call it a day!”
8. Repeat until you are found out.

June 3rd, 2011

We depart Liberty Landing and head up the East River.  I’ve been through this piece of water a few times now and I’m actually getting fairly familiar with it.  My first time through I was a little nervous, you hear all these stories about Hell’s Gate and tug boats and the like bearing down on you.  It turns out, like a lot of things in life, actually “doing the thing” is not nearly as bad as “thinking about doing the thing”.  The waters are actually pretty deep and the channels wider than they look on a chart.  There are a few points where you need to pay a little extra attention, but over all it’s not that bad.

The previous night Chris had mentioned that he would be able to see us from his apartment.  We call Chris to see if he can see us, but we are already past his location.  Apparently that was a grand bar scheme too.

We pass through Hell’s Gate, past Riker’s Island and past Execution rock into the Long Island Sound and suddenly is starts to feel like home, well, home waters anyway.

We discuss our options for the day; it’s early and we’re making good speed.  If we want to hit up Block Island it’d be nice to have as much time as possible to get there, so we decide to make for Clinton or Westbrook instead of the standard Port Jefferson.  This will make for a much shorter trip to the BI.

It’s now sometime after noon and I decide to go below and end up taking a long nap.  When I awake I head topside to see what progress we’ve made.

“We let you sleep, so we didn’t change sails.” says Archie.  We are just off Clinton!  Sweet!

The Clinton marina is actually three of four marines all operating out of one giant maze of docks and slips.  We make our way through this labyrinth and end up coming to a dead end near a bridge that we cannot pass (it’s only 5 feet off the water).  We hear a shout and see a dockhand motioning for us to tie up near him.   We finish making the boat secure, the deckhand seems to like us and says he told the office that we’re a 42′ boat (shorter equals less expensive as they charge by the foot).  Thanks!

Begin program:  Showers then off to find food and beer.

We hear that this place Bills has pretty good food and will be having a live band later on.  Sounds good to us!  We initially are seated outside on the deck and it is 100% gnats…nope, no thanks.  We walk back inside and four seats magically open up for us at the bar.  The stars have aligned for us!

We all order some drinks (I think Kelly and I started with beers and Jack and Cokes).  The band starts, they’re ragtime and really good.  Archie loves it and keeps calling friends to have a listen over the phone, holding his phone out to the band like a 13 year old girl at a Hanna Montana concert.  Can’t blame him though, we were all having a great time.

Kelly and I make friends with the ornery bartender Mike.  And guided by the music at our backs, we slip into an easy tempo of Jack and Cokes, Gin and Tonics, beer, Captain and Cokes, and Jack and Gingers…I think we covered all the bases there.

The night began to gain momentum and for a short bit the band was replaced by a high school band.  We didn’t think they would all fit in the fairly small playing area.  There was a tuba, a sousaphone, trombone, trumpet, keys and a drummer.  The trombone player and the drummer were twin sisters which was pretty cool.  The drummer looked very bored at times, maybe her other band is a metal band and she’s used to playing stuff much faster and louder.  We all enjoyed it though as they were also very good.

Scott Woodford appears for the last hour or so.  After the band stops and the bar is closing (something early like 11PM), we make plans to go out to breakfast with Scott.  He says he’ll pick us up the next morning.  Sounds like a plan.

We bounce our way back to the boat and I crash into my bunk with a water nearby, always a necessity to re-hydrate.

June 4, 2011 : 08:30AM

We may have had a large assortment of beverages last night, but we’re up on schedule and ready for breakfast.  We make the call to Scott and he tells us he’s on his way.  He appears in a big Black Cadillac and we depart for the Turtle Cafe.

The Turtle is a cool little joint with a good menu, more than the standard “bacon and eggs” (although you can get that too if you want.  I have an italian wrap, but the frittata is popular and pulls in both Kelly and Dad.  Laura offers to make a store run and all we can think of that we need is mayo and cheese. She doesn’t believe us at first, there must be something else you need she asks.  Nope, I think that’s it.  She is impressed at our apparent magic skill in managing our ship’s stores, but we seriously cannot think of anything else we need.

After breakfast we head back out to the Caddy to find its battery dead.  This is apparently a “known issue” with this particular vehicle so Scott makes a call and soon his son arrives in a truck with jumpers.  We have a leisurely ride back in the caddy, as we drive down the beach Scott gives us the details on how to get out of the harbor using the shorter “east passage”.  He also mentions how boats have run aground taking that route too.  It’s a slightly disconcerting combination of information.

After arriving back at the Betty Ann we all have our pictures taken in the caddy by Laura.  We also give a quick boat tour to Scott and Laura.  They are effusive in their praise of our water-based home, as everyone usually is when they see this beautiful boat.   We drop our lines and go, but not before I see Scott on the other side heading out on another sailboat to go out racing.  His boat would go on to win their race.

After we make it out the passage we turn left towards our next destination and find the wind nearly dead astern.  We set the sails “wing on wing” and also rig up the gybe preventer (a set of lines that prevents the boom from accidentally catching the wind on the wrong side and being blown across to the other side of the boat, a very dangerous occurrence both for the boat and the crew).  However we soon give up as the wind has slowed anyway.  We bring in the sails (we’re getting good at it anyway) and turn back to one-zero-eight degrees magnetic.

Some apples arrive topsides for a snack and we continue our march to Block Island.

June 4, 2011 : 04:00PM – Block Island!

Inside of New Harbor, Block Island we search for our mooring.  Archie has made preparations in advance with a friend to borrow a mooring.  We are told to search for a ball with GEIB printed on it.  All hands are on deck inspecting the mooring balls as they pass by…nothing…we can’t find it.  Finally Archie ends up spotting it from his position back at the helm, and before the three “young’ens” up on deck.

After making fast we use the air horn to hail the launch because the radio is unresponsive.   Our first stop is the Oar for 16oz Rum Punches, hummus + rare Tuna.  It turns out that our waitress is a wife of a family friend of Archie’s, so they talk for a bit before we decide to head out and explore this island a little more.  The rum punches were good, but not $8 good.

We grab a taxi over to Old Harbor and end up watching the Bruins period 1 at The National and enjoy more beverages (Captain & Coke, Gin Martinis, shot of Jameson, Captain & Ginger).  Archie returns from meeting with friends and we head back over to the Oar to watch more Bruins.

Our new waitress is a little rough around the edges in the social skills area, and Archie recommends to our crew at the table that maybe we can pay the waitress to go home.

Shortly before 11:30 we leave the Oar for the last launch.  We arrive to a dark empty dock.  Ehhh….what’s going on here…where’s the launch?  Kelly heads back into the Oar and explains our predicament.  Apparently the bartender called somebody named “Doyle” and then somebody called the harbormaster. While we wait we all head back into the bar to help them clean up by putting chairs on tables and the like.

Finally the launch driver [Buddy?] shows up and promptly exclaims “So let me get this straight.  You thought the last launch was at 11:30.  It’s now quarter past eleven, and you guys already called the cops on me?”

In any case we get our ride back to boat and all crash into our bunks.

June 5th, 2011

I awake to water bottles quenching my thirst and a blanket, very cozy.  Egg sandwiches are made and consumed before the mind has a chance to object.  Then we see the harbormaster coming over to us.  Uh oh, we all think…clearly he’s here to discuss the events from last night.  As it turns out it wasn’t that at all.  He just wanted to make sure that we had permission to use the mooring and that he was “pretty sure you guys were legit because you didn’t run and hide when you saw me coming.”

As is usually the case, I don’t have any journal entries for the last piece of the trip, in this case Block Island to point Judith.  There’s not much to it anyway, it’s only a 12 mile trip.  In any case, we made back without event and delivered the Betty Ann once more to her summer home in Point Judith.

Sunset Off the Bow

Wow, I forgot how much I hate writing by hand.  It took me three false starts just to get going.  I tried the left-hand pages, I tried starting at the back of the book, nothing was comfortable.

You see, being left-handed, the whole ‘writing by hand’ thing was always a bit of a chore.  Quite honestly, my handwriting looks like a friggin’ Kindergartner wrote it.  This was actually one of the first things I noticed when going from hand-written to typed papers in school, my grades immediately went up.  It turns out I was a better writer than I realized, it was just that nobody could read it before.

So, anyway, my hand is already sore, that’s nice.  But you’re not here to listen to my handwriting woes, you want to hear a sailing story, right?  Let’s get on with it, shall we?

It’s the day before our departure on the Betty Ann.  I tried a quick count in my head, and I think this is my sixth leg that I’ve sailed.  Dad and I are getting ready, doing final packing and such, an already the same old jokes are coming out:

“Hey, is that buoy blinking every 2 seconds or 2.5 seconds?”

“You know what, I ‘ll bring my stopwatch!”

“Hey, aren’t these your flip-flops?”

“Wooo, yeah.  I always forget to pack those.”

I guess saying those same jokes over and over every trip helps us ease ourselves into the trip.  So it’s goodbye crappy job, goodbye filthy city, goodbye cruel world (for a week).  We’re bound for yet another adventure, and who knows what we’ll find over the next six to seven days?  That’s the best part about trips like this, you never know exactly what’s going to happen.  You may have a vague idea of what you’d like to happen, but the forces of nature very often have something else in mind.

Speaking of nature, one very good thing is that the weather forecast for tomorrow has changed from cold, rainy and windy, to warmer, sunny and less windy.  I’ll take it!

The real question on everybody’s minds though (surely it’s on mine) is what will the weather do when we get to the Norfolk decision point.  This is where we must decide if we want to stay out in the Atlantic, and go ’round Cape Hatteras, or move inside and take the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW).

Cape Hatteras beat us back last time, and I would really like to be able to go back and conquer it, but I think the crew has already made up its mind that if there’s even a whisper of foul weather afoot it’ll be the ICW for us.

October 28, 2010 : 10:00 AM

We arrive to a marina shrouded in fog.  Walking down the gangway towards the Betty Ann, I peer into the grey wall at the end of the dock.  Upon nearing the end of the pier, where the Betty Ann sits happily in her slip, I can just make out something on the other side of the fog wall.  I’m not sure what it is, only two small incandescent bulbs betray its existence, without those I probably would have missed it all together.  A second later and it’s gone, absorbed back into the gray nothingness.

Anchor Windlass with Play-dough Packing

Rounding the corner I see Pete up on the bow doing something near the anchor locker, and Archie on the port-side rail, apparently just finishing topping off the water tanks.  Larry has not arrived yet, so dad and I stow our bags down below, then join Pete on the bow.  Pete had been using Play-Dough to pack into the the small spaces between the anchor chain and deck plate where the chain runs down into the storage locker below.  If I remember correctly there’s roughly 200 feet of chain on the primary anchor.  When you’re anchored out it’s nice to know that not only is there a very heavy steel anchor grabbing at the ground below you, but that there’s also pure chain between you and it.  It’s an additional layer of security, but can also be a disadvantage if something were to happen to the mechanical windlass that normally reels that chain back in for you.

There is another job that needs to be complete before we can depart.  The bow lights are non-functional again, this seems to be a recurring problem on this boat.  Most likely it’s due to the light housing’s location at the very tip of the bow pulpit.  During heavy seas the pulpit is routinely awash with corrosive salt water, and the navigation light housing is right there at the foremost point to take a beating.  After a new bulb, some WD-40, and some scratching with a wire brush the lights come back to life.  This time we also wrap the underneath of the housing where the wire comes up from below with electrical tape.  Hopefully this will help to keep out some of the evil salt water and make this particular repair last a little longer.

After Larry arrives a few minutes later, the fog has lifted a touch and we can now see the green buoy that marks the first of a multitude of points we will search for on our journey south.  The forecast was for the fog to dissipate by afternoon, so we take this to be a sign of clearing and start preparing for departure.  Steps come in, along with the shore power cable and spring lines that are slack.  Archie fires up the engine, all hands are on deck and ready.  We slip off the last of the lines from the Betty Ann’s bow and stern and officially begin our passage.  Woo hoo!

It didn’t take long for the departure to get a little iffy.  I think the fog hadn’t really retreated too far, because after the initial green buoy there was nothing to see.  Really, nothing.  The only texture to the grey mass in front of us was provided by the floaters in my eyes.  Suddenly I noticed all sorts of little circles and lines dancing in front of me, which was distracting because I was trying to spot the next marker.

I stationed myself up on the bow as a lookout, and immediately little droplets of fog began collecting on my eyebrows, eyelashes, and my general person.

“I should have worn my coat I suppose.” I thought to myself.

The moisture steadily collected as purposefully as we guided our boat past the greens out into the harbor of refuge, somewhere up ahead.

Suddenly, and invisibly,  the deep guttural fog horn of something large boomed into my ears from somewhere up ahead.  I turned around to look at Pete behind me, who was standing outside the canopy giving Archie verbal descriptions of what he was seeing and asked, “Did you hear that?”

“Yep.” and a nod came the reply.

I don’t suppose the question really needed to be asked.  In a land of grey, when a large vessel sounds its horn in front of you, you take notice.

Point Judith channel is shared by a large fishing fleet on the east side.  A large set of commercial docks dominates the waterfront but is shared by ferries to Block Island, restaurants, stacks of lobster traps and just as many tourist traps.

It was the ferries and commercial traffic that were at the forefront of my mind now.  That horn belonged to one of those, an I wasn’t sure where they were.  I’d much rather not have to witness a giant steel bow come out of the fog directly in front of us.  If one did we might not have time to avoid it, and that would not make a very pleasant first day.

Pete was using a gas air horn to sound our own location in the grey soup every 2 minutes.  I was hoping that the other ships heard our horn as well as we heard theirs.

We finally picked our way out into the Harbor of Refuge, which is a good-sized harbor built outside of Galilee.  We followed the man-made rock wall on the western side out to the appropriately named west gap.

This is when the first of the swells began to hit us.  I retreated to the safety of the isenglass (clear plastic) windows inside the cockpit just as the first of the waves sprayed onto the front deck.  For the next forty of so hours this would be the norm as a cold front passed over the eastern seaboard bringing with it twenty knot winds with gusts to 30.

October 28th, 2010 – Night

The Sun sets over rough waves

I don’t remember too much of the next forty hours.  It’s really just a blur of constant boat motion, up, down, roll left, roll right, repeat.  Sleep was very difficult and came in ten to fifteen minute intervals when you would wake to either the sensation of yourself being thrown out of your bunk or something being thrown out of the galley.

Watches were the standard for five men on the boat.  Come up and stand at the helm for two hours, then go on standby/lookout for two hours when someone else comes up for the wheel watch.  Then you go down inside for six hours of “sleep”.

As the waves built around us and tossed the Betty Ann back and forth, we all fell into at least a little bit of “sea-sickness”.  Some more than others.  Even for those of us who weren’t full-blown seasick (i.e. vomiting), I think we were all probably “sick-of-the-sea” by the second night.  Sick of rolling, sick of pitching, sick of not sleeping, sick of getting tossed out of the starboard bunk.

Personally, I came very close to “falling into the pit.”  I remember visualizing myself standing at the edge of a dark pit swallowing large gulps of saliva (I didn’t have to visualize that part), the final toll keeper of the land of sea-sickness.

The toll keeper leans out of his booth, flashes an evil-green smile and spits, “Go ahead boy, pull the trigger.”

Three more gulps of saliva and I’m starting to believe him, or is it hypnosis?

“You’ll feel better if you do, I promise.”  He eyes me over.  I know that he’s played this hand a thousand times over.   What he neglects to mention however is that once you pass through the tollgates into seasick land, you are thrown headfirst into its roiling belly.  Very often you find that you don’t have the change to get back to the other side, just like the proverbial bum who needs change for the bus.  You’re stuck in this town now.

“No thanks, ” I say, “I’ll stay on this side a little longer.”

The toll keeper retreats into his run-down booth, perhaps with a look of surprise on his pockmarked face.

“You’ll be back my son.  Oh yes, you’ll be back.”

Deep inside my heart I fear he might be right.  Everyone has made, or is capable of making that trip.  But for tonight at least I have chosen to stay on the uphill side for as long as I can.  Another large wave knocks us over and I dig myself into my bunk a little deeper in a futile attempt to find purchase.

October 29th, 2010 – Afternoon

The sea has not let up, but at least we can see them coming now.  We’ve fallen into a routine, with everybody just looking ahead in our minds to the time that we know will arrive…the time when the sea will calm down again.  There’s nothing you can do about it, so there’s no use complaining about it, just suck it up and wait.

Sometime in the afternoon we heard two loud explosions.  Everyone who was on deck at the time clamored  to the isinglass to look and see who had just fired on us (it was the only reasonable explanation).  Upon finding no ships of the line firing broadsides at us, sonic booms from a fighter was the consensus we arrived at.

We were soon proved right as a few minutes later the jet flew high overhead back to (we presumed) Andrew’s Air Force base.

I am prone to day dreaming when given the chance, and there are plenty of chances on a sailboat seventy miles offshore, I began a new one in my head:

Not the Jet in the story below, but one from the trip...

The pilot of the jet, an F-15, gazed down upon the water 3,000 feet below.  Jack Sturbridge had finished his maneuvers over the Atlantic, but he still had plenty of fuel left and didn’t feel like heading back to Andrew’s just yet.

At the end of his gaze, down in the blue ocean below, he spotted a tiny white dot.  There were whitecaps everywhere today making this ocean look like a white-frosted cake, but this dot was a boat.  A sailboat!

Jack and his father, who was now Secretary of the Navy, used to spend as many weekends as they could out on the waters around Annapolis.  Sometimes they would hear a jet fighter pass overhead and remark how amazing it would be if the pilot decided to hit the deck and give them their own private air show.  It never happened of course, but wouldn’t it be great?

Well, Jack though to himself, I think it’s time to make that happen.

Leaning left and forward on the stick, and advancing the throttle to full afterburner, Jack turned the plane in a downward left-hand spiral towards the ocean-top.  The plane responded by accelerating to over 1,000 knots, well above the sound barrier at sea-level.

Jacked finished his turn just as he lined up with the boat and leveled off at 100 feet.  The plane, still in full afterburner was still accelerating and a quick glance at the airspeed indictor showed the plane now at 1,200 knots.  Jack couldn’t see it, but the plane’s pressure wave was kicking up a gigantic rooster tail behind him.

As he closed to within a half a mile, Jack noticed that the crew of the sailboat had appeared on deck, and were pointing at him and jumping up and down excitedly.

Traveling this fast, Jack closed the remaining distance in under half a second and the boat flashed underneath him.  After letting some distance get behind him, Jack pulled back gently on the stick and brought his plane up into vertical, and then further until he was inverted.  A quick flick of his wrist was all that was required to flip the plane right-side-up and Jack’s immelman turn was complete.  Just as he was about to drop the nose back towards the ocean for another pass, the cockpit became illuminated with warning lights and sirens.

Double engine failure?  This is impossible!  However impossible there was no time to ponder it.  Jack’s training immediately kicks in.  His first task was to adjust the plane’s trim for the best glide ratio.  After completing that task Jack then began the engine restart procedures.  Simultaneously he radioed his predicament back to the tower at Andrew’s Air Force Base.

After two complete restart attempts on both engines, it was clear that Jack was going to have to access another part of his training – ditching and ejecting.  A quick scan of the immediate area indicated the obvious, it was all water and there was no “good” place for an emergency landing .

“Holy shit.” Jack though, “I’m going to have to eject into the friggin’ ocean.”

Jack glanced at his altimeter and saw he was now passing below 200 feet.  He had no time.  As he reached for the ejection handles, he saw up ahead and just to his left, the same sailboat he had buzzed before.  This was the last thing he saw before he pulled on the ejection handle and was thrown, still travelling 200 kots, into the air outside the plane.

Jack feels a tug and then a lift.  He opens his eyes to see a winch in front of him.  For a second he thinks he is on his dad’s old boat, but them remembers how that boat had been sold many years ago.  The last moments of his memory now come flooding back – the sailboat that reminded him of his youth, his little private air show, engine failure and then…ejection?”

“What happened?” Jack asked to the five men around him.

A younger man in a John Prine tee-shirt replies, “Dude man, you ejected right in front of us!  We saw your chute open and you came down right in front of us.  Your plane lande…er….crashed over there.”  The young man pointed over to his left where black smoke was billowing out of the sea.  “It’s a good thing we got to you so quick, you were unconscious.”

“I was?”  This was the only thing Jack could think to say.

“Yeah.  Out!  Like lights-out all the way.  It looks like your safety raft or whatever was only half-inflated too.”

As the young man finished saying this, a distinct thumping began coming through the air.  A Coast Guard HH-60 helicopter was approaching.  It was probably a good thing too, Jack thought, the way this guy is so excited he’ll probably start throwing out Top Gun quotes.

“Ha!  Mav’s in a flat spin and he’s headed out to sea!”

Too late.  Might as well chime in, it is a really good movie after all.

Jack responded, “Yeah, I guess that flyby wasn’t such a great idea, huh?”

The chopper finally appeared and cut their movie lines short.  In a well-trained maneuver the Coast Guard swimmer has Jack into the rescue basket in no time.

Over the roar of the chopper above, Jack yelled “Thanks guys, you really saved me back there.”

“Nah.  It was nothing compared to the show you gave us.” came the reply in unison.

Roughly three hours later, the crew of the Betty Ann pulled into harbor and secured their lines for the night.  After tying the last knot, and just before they started tying one on, a stocky man with a small entourage appeared.

“Permission to come abord?” the man asked after his arrival.

“Sure, why not, we were just about to have dinner.  Hungry?”  The crew wasn’t sure who this man was, but something about his presence told them that refusing his invitation would be bad.

Sitting down in the now-crowded cabin, the man accepted his plate.  “Damn good-looking grub” the stocky man thought.

With plates served and Yuenglings given to all, the crew sat looking expectantly at their guest.

“Gentleman, my name is Bruce Sturbridge.  As you may know, I am the Secretary of the Navy, and today you plucked my son Jack out of the ocean, most certainly saving his life.  I am in your debt.  How can I repay you?

This was news to the crew.  Jack hadn’t mentioned that his father was Secretary of the Navy, SecNav for short.  They were thusly stunned and a silence came over the boat.  Finally a young man in a John Prine tee-shirt responded.

“Well.  How about jet rides?  Two each for myself and six of my friends.”

“Well, um, there would have to be background checks and such.  But yeah, I can make that happen.” the SecNav replied.

“Sweet!  Also, how about lifetime access to the newest flight simulators the Navy has?” the John Prine fan asked.

“Well, actually, that’s easier than your first request.” the SecNav replied.

“And I can bring friends too, right?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

The John Prine fan had another question poised but judging from the faint grimace on the SecNav’s face, he decided not to push his luck.

The other crew members made requests too, but none were as cool as the John Prine fan’s requests, so we won’t be covering those here.

The crew was beaming, all of their SecNav-grantable wishes granted, when the SecNav spoke again.

“Now boys, I can make all these things happen, but I need one thing from you.  I must ask each of you to sign the disclosure agreement my aide is passing out now.  Basically, in short terms, it says that what happened this afternoon, it didn’t happen.  None of it.  You sailed here without incident, with absolutely nothing remarkable happening.  We need to be absolutely clear on this.  Are we?”

The crew all nodded their heads in agreement.

So, I can’t really tell you if this was a daydream, or if it’s a real memory.  Sometimes when you’re sleep-deprived at 2AM, fantasy becomes reality, and day dreams become memories.  I’ll leave it to you to decide which is real.

October 29th, 2010 – Night

The wind and waves have still not let up, and as we watched the sun go down I was again reminded of how much more “attached” to the sun you get while sailing, especially when the weather is a little off.  It’s almost like the sun is your friend, a protector, and you’re sad to see it go.  As soon as it’s dark, I end up thinking about the sun, somewhere on the other side of the planet, on its way to some see me again.

A memory I have from the second night is the odd feeling that I’m observing life through the lens of a camera, taking still shots of my own life.  This was somewhere in the early morning, perhaps around 2AM.  I was sleep-deprived, and was doing everything in my power to stay observant.  I remembered how pilots are trained to scan the “big six” instruments in an airplane’s cockpit.  I decided to take that same approach in this boat’s cockpit.  Standing in front of the wheel, I would focus on the chart plotter to scan for anything interesting ahead.  From there I woud move down to the radar display and look for any contacts.  Next I would look to my left at the engine gauges and make sure that they were all at their expected indications.  Finally, I would do a 360-degree visual scan outside the boat looking for lights of other boats.  I found that this helped to keep me alert, and to keep the three sailors sleeping below safe while I was on watch.

The tough part about this night was that apart from the endless white crests of waves throwing our Betty ann over to 50 degrees, not much interesting was happening.  It sounds odd, reading back what I just wrote, but it’s true.  The Betty Ann is such a strong well-built boat that even getting tossed around like this you never feel in danger, it’s just uncomfortable.

However, just because you don’t feel danger doesn’t mean that you don’t get tired of it.  At a certain point I started to get frustrated with the sea.  Usually, there are occasional waves that are larger than the others.  These come in what are called sets, and they come in threes.  A particularly brutal set was passing underneath and I counted the third go by.  As we were coming back to level again a fourth wave hit us and again rolled us over bringing the prop out of the water.

“Enough!” I yelled.  Yes Ocean, we get the point, you can toss us ’round and ’round and there’s nothing we can do about it.  We get it.  Now can you please stop sending those breaking waves and rollers our way?  And while you’re at it, can you get the wind on the phone and tell her to give it a rest too?  Maybe somewhere below twenty knots?  M’kay?  Thanks.

Somewhere in the above internal rant going on in my head, Pete asked me if I wanted a Ritz cracker.  I pondered the question for too long. “Do you want a Ritz” is a yes or no question that should take approximately one-tenth of a second to answer, and the answer is always yes. Unfortunately my stomach had posted the “Sorry, closed for an indeterminate amount of time due to the weather, please try again later” sign quite some time ago. However, my brain was saying, “The last thing we ate was a handful of stale Doritoes last night, I order you to open the gate and let the Ritz through!”  The stomach, being the lower-ranked of the two had no choice but to comply.

“Sure, a Ritz sounds good.” I replied to Pete.  I tried to sound as chipper as I could.  I don’t think I succeeded very well.

Pete handed me the Ritz and I pondered my best plan of attack.  I decided a test bite from the periphery was my best bet.  I raised the cracker to my mouth and took the smallest bite I could.

Crunch.  Chew.  Swallow.  Wait.

“No complaints from Mr. Stomach in the engine room.  Continue consumption Mr. Mouth.”

I nibbled my way through the rest of the cracker, still not very enthused about the whole thing.  But I got it down and felt an odd feeling of accomplishment.  Laughing to myself I thought, “Am I really excited that I was able to finish an entire Ritz cracker?”

October 30th, 2010 – 06:00 AM

Somewhere between the end of my last watch, and the beginning of my 6AM watch this morning, the seas finally calmed. Hallelujah!  Pete roused me from my bunk, and I crawled out into the still-dark cabin of the Betty Ann.

Pete, who sometime the previous day had made his way out of sea-sickness purgatory was happily munching on some Fig Neutons.

“Fig Neuton?” Pete asked, holding out the rectangular container.

“No thanks.” I replied.  Even at 100% I’m not a big fan if “The Neuton”.  I don’t really understand why anybody even buys them.  It’s kind of like Strawberry Quick, Tequiza, and Clamato, just not that good.

“Are there any more sleeves of Ritz though?” I asked.

“Yeah, just a second.” came Pete’s reply.  Pete bounded down the companionway like Tigger into the galley and returned with a fresh sleeve of Ritz, yeah he’s feeling better.  He handed me the package which I cautiously opened.  The waves had settled it seemed, but Mr. Stomach was still a little reserved.  I took out a cracker and went straight for a “full-fledged” half-bite.  Then I waited.

Mr. Stomach replied, “All clear!  Send down the second half!”  I was on the road to full recovery as well!  I took out four or five more and began eating them at faster and faster rates.

It was here that I decided that building your appetire back to full-strength after looking over seasick hill was a lot like building a fire, you have to start small and slow before you can get up to full strength.  So with ever more confidence I fed Mr. Stomach more Ritz, or as what I was now calling them, “Appetite Kindling”.

In no short time I had finished one-half of a sleeve.  I could have gone all the way but decided to leave some for my dad since he was to arrive on deck soon and I wasn’t sure what his “stomach situation” was.  I instead opted to slug the rest of my water and watch the sun rise on what was turning out to be a banner day.

October 30th, 2010 – 11:00 AM

Dad and Pete are Happy Campers

Larry is back!  With a crew’s appetites restored Larry is back in his element and asks if coffee, pancakes and bacon is in order.  Is it ever!  Pete had gone to bed, but was quickly roused by the aromas of cooking bacon and popped up on deck with a big smile.  Piping-hot cups of coffee arrived and the smiles grew all around.

Archie arrived from down below and not seconds later did the food begin to come on deck.  Fresh-made blueberry pancakes with butter and syrup.   Crispy hot bacon.  More coffee.  Orange juice all around.  None of us had eaten anything substantial in a while and this was a spectacular late-morning breakfast.

Archie Enjoys the Sun and Calm Waters of Norfolk

“Your mother must have loved cooking for you.” Archie says.

“Sorry?” I reply.

“You’re picking the fat off your bacon,” Archie says, “…don’t worry, it’s a good thing.  You’ll live longer.”

A couple more pancakes were delivered up from below, and thusly consumed.  We all sat back in the warm sun, relishing it’s positive effect on our soul as much as the food energizing our bodies.

Disclaimer: The following wasn’t in my actual journal so the time might be off, but I’m pretty sure that this is correct.

One of the Carriers at Norfolk

We came around the corner and crossed over the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel to see the first of many aircraft carriers moored at the Naval base.  There were (five?) carriers, a few cruisers (not sure what kind), and one of the new stealth-looking ships.  There was als a pair of helicopters doing some sort of maneuvers, and a fighter jet flying CAP.

Everyone kept ribbing me as I was taking pictures with my big 200mm zoom lens that someone from the base would come out to get me thinking I was a spy.  Nope.  No spy, just someone who loves military technology.

Ship in Dry Dock

We made our way up the river passing more military ships, including one that was in dry dock.  It’s always cool to see large ships completely out of the water, I’m usually more amazed at how little is really below water than anything else.  I always picture these huge cavernous hulls extending down into the water.

This ship was getting some sort of work done on it as well, the upper towers were all wrapped with what looked like Tyvek house wrapping.  Apparently they didn’t want us to see whatever it was they were building inside there.

We slipped past the drydock and made our way further up the river, passing derelict  bridges and train trestles along the way.  There are also various factories and a concrete plant.

October 30th, 2010 – 01:30 PM

In what has become a day of food, our ravenous bodies were not disappointed at lunch time either,  For lunch Larry served us up:

• Beef and bean chili,
• Beef Barley Soup
• Bread and Butter
• Sliced Oranges
• Giant Grapes

Documenting...

We all devour our plates, our bodies craving nutrition, and again fall back against the cockpit seats with satisfaction, this maneuver quickly became the signal that “I am done eating, I am full, and I am happy”.

Afterwards we all retreat to various corners.  Some make phone calls to home, relating our last two days in the Atlantic washing machine, others open sailing magazines something that twenty-four hours ago would have been pretty low on the “I want to do that” list.

I retreat to this journal, something I’ve been neglecting for a while and spend the next couple hours writing down everything I can remember from the last couple days.  Including this line right here. Apart from the “I want to do that” list, there’s also the “Needs to do” list, and journal writing gets crossed off pretty quick during bad weather, it’s right next to “brush teeth” for me.

October 30th, 2010 – 6:00 PM

Dad handles his line while in the Lock

Not quite sure when we made it to the lock that, for me at least, marks the true beginning of the ICW.  It’s always a pretty cool thing, especially when you think about the mechanics and hydraulics involved.

Whenever I picture a lock, for some reason I picture this violent boiling water as millions of gallons of water are added or removed from the enclosed space.  I guess this isn’t really the case because as fas as locks go, this one’s not super exciting.  We all remarked that we didn’t really move that much, maybe a foot to a foot and a half.  The evidence of this, as Pete pointed out, was on the pilings, a swath of wet piling indicated where the water had been just a few short minutes ago.

October 30th, 2010 – 06:30 PM

Sunset on the ICW (actually taken just before the lock)

After making it through the lock we were forced to wait for a swing bridge to open on the other side.  The night was super still so we hovered effortlessly in the water.  To out left was a restaurant that appeared to be quite popular.  Pete and I joked together that maybe someone should hop off the boat real quick and go grab a couple beers.

While waiting for the bridge to open a tug and barge appeared at the lock behind us.  We couldn’t see too much as it was quite dark by this point, but we could see a giant mast with his lights on top.  How big could this thing be?  We started to worry that the swing bridge operator was going to wait for the tug to arrive, and that we would have considerably more “boat” to deal with around us.  Our fears were quickly alleviated though as the bridge bells sounded and it began to swing open.  On the way through the smells of a KFC came wafting down off the bridge from up the street.  After the mandatory South Park Cartman joke, our thoughts began to drift down into the Galley where Larry was slinging pans.

October 30th, 2010 – 06:45 PM

(Poorly Done) Atlantic Boat Basin Sketch

Just on the other side of the bridge is the Atlantic Boat Basin, where we would be spending the night.  Although Archie had called ahead, they seemed to have forgotten about us.  Apparently the front side of the piers were all full, but the man on the radio informed us that there were more slips “around back”.  We motored past all the other boats, most of them large motor yachts and into darker and darker territory.

The man on the radio said he would ride down to the other end and tell us where to go.  We reached the end of the marina docks and a large patch of water opened up to our right, apparently this was where we were supposed to turn.  Tensions were elevated because this was possibly the worst marked entrance in navigational history.  There was a broken piling out in the middle of this water that was supposed to mark the entrance to their “channel”.  The guy on the bike never showed up, although we did see a light bouncing around in the woods, we started to call him “the E.T. guy”.  After a while it became a little more apparent where we were supposed to go, although the tension only abated somewhat.  After two ninety degree turns we were headed opposite our original course from the ICW, but up into the belly of this odd marina backwater.  As usual in times like this, many eyes were on the depth gauge which was hovering somewhere around 7.

Finally te “E.T. guy” appeared at the end of a narrow slip and guided us in.  Finally!  Lines secured and engine off, the crew stood on solid ground for the first time in a couple days.

October 30th, 2010 – 07:00 PM

The food continues!  This is odd for me to be so entranced by food, normally it’s just something that gets in the way of other things I’d rather do, but today it’s all I seem to want to document.  Dinner tonight was Italian Country Chicken.  This dish has become a Beardsley sailing staple ever since we had it on the Maina Brittany cruise in France.  It’s basically Chicken, onions, artichoke hearts, black olives, and roasted peppers served over pasta.  Dad had made a batch of this beforehand along with a loaf of fresh sourdough bread.  In addition there was salad and brocoli with cheese sauce (which I skipped).  The beverage choices were Yuengling  and/or Rum without ice (there was no ice on board).  I had seconds and thirds of the Chicken with pasta, then finished it off with more bread, more beer, and rum.  Nice.

After dinner it was already quite dark, and with a full belly and a couple drinks in me my desire for a shower had waned a bit, even though I hadn’t had one since the morning we left (roughly two and a half days).  I asked myself, “Is it really possible that I’m considering skipping the shower?”  It’s hard to believe, but after that big meal and a few drinks my fatigue is getting the upper hand and telling me just to go to bed.

However, common sense prevailed and I grabbed my towel, soaps, and flip flops, and popped out into the low fifty-degree air (it felt even cooler that this).  If I didn’t shower here it would be an unknown amount of time until my next one.

After some preliminary intelligence from Pete and Archie, dad and I were informed that there were three showers, one single and one double.  Archie headed off towards the single shower which was in the main office building, while dad and I trudged off to find the double.  I hadn’t taken two steps before I was reminded of my own words, “Oh flip-flops, how much I loathe you.”

Dad and I managed to pick our way along the uneven, too-thin, slightly dilapidated dockside.  The narrow walkways routinely pitched up and down causing more than one stumble on my part.  At the end near the Tron Haul-Out Machine (that’s what I call a travel lift), there was a small puddle of diesel fuel.  Apparently dad made a mental note of this because he would later remind me not to step in it.

We turned left onto the gravel main thoroughfare of Atlantic Yacht Basin.  Archie peeled off to the right, towards the main office building, and dad and I continued on looking for the dual showers. After one wrong turn into the laundromat (maybe that would be a better way to clean a sailor), we found our way into the showers.

Upon first look, the showers actually look like a bathroom door (which it also is).  You walk through a small office-like lounge which contains, among other things, a TV with VCR/DVD, candy and soda machines, a take-one-leave-one library and a small table suitable for playing cards, or drinking beer while watching the game.  I wouldn’t describe it as clean, and certainly not modern.  It had more of an auto garage office kind of feel.

Through the door marked “men” in one of those black-plastic-with-white-lettering signs are the showers.  The stall appeared to have been built in the late-eighties, and it hadn’t been updated since.  On the right was a urinal, sink and toilet, in that order.  On the left are the two showers, hidden behind soap-stained opaque glass.  A quick glance inside the shower revealed missing patches of tile where some fixture used to be, and a water faucet that was slightly corroded.

However, what became more apparent was the lack of any real place to change or hang clothes.  Ater testing the water to make sure it was hot (really the most important thing), we proceded to both strip down in the bathroom area and attempt to strategically hang our clothes (dirty and clean) and towels in safe locations.  There’s nothing quite like getting bare-ass naked with your father in a cramped bathroom.

An additional piece of logistics that we had to overcome was the fact that there was only one set of soaps.  One of us always forgets to bring shampoo and soap, usually it’s me but this time it was my dad.  Before leaving I had apportioned my soaps into two two-ounce bottles.  We decided that we would each take one into the shower and then pass them between the two showers when we were done.  It was a little awkward, and we had to pass the bottles back and forth twice.  No mater though, the hot water felt great, and my head no longer felt like it had picked up all the grease from an auto-shop floor.

Dressing prove more difficult than undressing.  Standing on top of my wet flip-flops, trying to get into a pair of sweat pants while not letting them touch anything is really difficult.  It would be a shame to get all nice and clean only to get your sleeping clothes filthy and wet from the public shower floor.

We made it back to the boat (remembering to step around the diesel puddle) without incident.  Larry who had left before us to shower was not back yet – more than a little odd.  Nobody knew where he’d run off to.  Our concerns were quickly alleviated however.  Archie returned to tell us a tale that sounded a lot like Gerry, a previous shipmate that some readers might remember from another sailing log.

Apparently Larry had initially intended on showering, but upon arriving at the main office building saw the beaconing glow of a mexican restaurant in the distance.  Earlier, he had mentioned that he had quite a headache ever since his ride in the V-berth “anto-gravity chamber” the other rough weather night.  He seemed to think, quite rightly so, that a good alcohol soaking would fix the problem.

He ventured into the restaurant and found that they had Yuengling on tap, the World Series on one TV, and soccer on another.  He stayed for a couple of tall boys and then left to go back to the shower.

When Larry returned to the boat a short time later he popped open another Yuengling from the ship fridge.  We were all ready for bed, certainly myself as I was deep into my sleeping bag.  This was an odd time where someone was ready to party is seemed and I wasn’t.  It was too late for me, fatigue had claimed me again and the combination of sweatpants, and a fleece sleeping bag proved too appetizing to deny.  I was asleep minutes after the lights went out.  I slept straight through to 5:45 the next morning.

October 31, 2010 – 5:45 AM

I awake and I’m back at the base of Mount Washington.  I’m cold and this little fleece blanket isn’t nearly enough to keep me warm.  How could I be so foolish?  My head clears a bit and I realize that I’m not back on the mountain, but in a boat.  What I didn’t realize was that the window hatch above my bunk was open all night, letting the warm air of the inner cabin out into the night, and letting the cold air replacing it fall directly down onto me.

It’s 5:45 AM, but I don’t know that because it’s pitch black, I’ll find that out later when the 0600 alarms start going off.  For now I’m cold and need to figure out a solution.  I finally came up with something.  If I curl up into as tight a fetal position as I can I find that I only use half the fleece sleeping bag, now I can take the bottom half and wrap it up over myself.  I must look like an idiot, but I immediately feel warmth building in my body.  Ahhhh, heat restored.  I drift off for another fifteen minutes of sleep.

Another Awesome Breakfast

At 06:00 the alarms go off and we all start to gather.  Larry makes coffee and begins breakfast while Archie, Pete, Dad and myself go topside to get the Betty Ann out of her overnight berth.  After we slip the lines we pass out through Atlantic Yacht Basin’s back entrance, and take a right back onto the ICW.

In a few short minutes we find ourselves at the first of many 65 foot bridges.  That’s pretty tall, but so is Archie’s mast which sits at 63 feet, plus has a 3 foot antenna at the top.  As we pass under this bridge, all eyes skyward and as slow as possible, the antenna  hits every girder as we pass.  The slight springy sound of the antenna slapping into steel girders would become a common sound as we pass through other bridges on the ICW, most of which are marked as 65 footers.

Another point of interest was when we were coming up to on of the moving bridges of the waterway.  We heard a boat behind us radio the bridge (there was no one in front of us, so the boat had to be behind us).  They said that they were a sailboat, looking to make the next opening, and that they were behind “another small sailboat in front of them.”

We couldn’t believe our ears!  What?  Small!  Did you see our mast nearly strike the bridge behind us?  If we were any larger we wouldn’t be able to make it down the ICW.  Ha.  Must be an amateur, or some other self-absorbed type.  Clearly his eyes need an adjustment.  This same boat, after passing through the bridge requested to pass us because “their cruising speed is seven-point-five knots, while our own was only seven.”  Fair enough, go on by.  Ahhh though, why then, after an hour are you only ten boat lengths in front of us?  Not quite seven-five eh?

Later on the ICW opens up a little bit and we were able to set sail.  Now, I say it opens up, but this is just the scenery.  There appears to be more water, but in reality there is just a lot of water on either side of you begging to get you stuck.  I was at the helm for this piece and we were able to set a sail as the next few miles all has the wind either off our starboard bow, or abeam to starboard after a turn.  We began to catch the “big boat” as we now joking called it until they too set a sail and we again evened out.  I timed our distance apart by counting how long it took us to get to a mark they had passed, and to me we still seemed very even.

After another turn to the right the wind was back to just off our starboard bow, and the channel takes you through a piece of marsh and an island.  It gets really tight and uncomfortable, but I saw something up ahead that was going to make it a lot more interesting, a tug pushing a rather large barge.  You could tell by the closure rate that we were going to pass right at the narrowest spot by the island.

Pete began a conversation on the radio with the tug.  After a couple false starts, which I think was caused by the faulty microphone in our cockpit (something we would diagnose later), the tug informed us that the water on the green side of the channel was really shallow, and that we would do well to stay clear to the right (island side of the channel) over by the red buoy.  We radioed that we understood, and that we would stay near the red, and pass port to port.  I edged the Betty Ann over to the right as far as I dared, the water depth now read six feet.  The transducer is mounted on the hull somewhere, so we really had around eight or nine feet of water, but there was also the keel to keep in mind which projects anther three feet or so past the transducer.  This means that the “magic number” is somewhere around 3.  If you see that number on the depth gauge prepare to come to a rather sudden stop.

As we closed on the red marker the depth steadily decreased a tenth at a time, and the tug and barge relentlessly marched toward us, growing larger with every second.  Glancing up, I could now clearly see the various scrapes running along the barge’s length…were these war wounds from other boat victims?

“You’re in 5 now.”  Archie says.

I glance back over to the depth gauge and see the depth has indeed decreased to under six, somewhere around five and a half.  Well, the bottom is pretty soft here, I say to myself, I guess that’s something. I’m driving straight at the island and the red pole-mounted marker, there’s not a whole lot more I can do.  To my left there is only barge, I cannot even see open water ahead of me.  We are completely committed now.

The barge passed to our left.  As I looked out the port-side isinglass all I could see was a vertical rust wall moving past.  If I wasn’t at the helm I could have reached out and touched it.  In a few seconds the barge passed and then it was the tug out the left-hand side.  A few more seconds and it’s past as well.  I turn the wheel left and scoot back behind the tug to get back into the middle of the channel.

“That’ll get your pulse up a bit.” I say to Pete.

It’s now getting a little later, and our stomachs are beginning to pine for some food.  Both Pete and I had been thinking about wings at Coinjock since we were offshore.  We’d had them before on a previous trip, and we were both looking forward to them again.  Pete called the restaurant on his cell phone and put in a to-go order for three one-dozen orders of wings.

“She never asked you what flavor?” I ask.

Pete looks at me, then back at his phone.  He dialed the number again and amended the order to two dozen wings, one hot, one mild.

A few minutes later we landed at Coinjock and after tying up Betty Ann the crew rushed onto land for our mini shore leave.  Wallets came out and we traded some cash for t-shirts, hats and more beer as our shipboard supply of beer was running dangerously low.  We filled up on fuel, grabbed our wings from the restaurant and were back on the ICW in about twenty minutes.  We ate our wings and lapped up potato soup that Larry had made. It was actually a really good combo.

A little later dad was at the helm and we were reminded of how narrow the ICW can get, even if there are hundreds of feet of water on either side of you. We were motoring along at our usual 7 knots when the depth gauge suddenly started dropping fast.  This wasn’t too alarming as very often the depth with go from 12 feet, down to 7, then back to 9.  This was different though, it became truly alarming when it dropped past 5 feet and continued.  We all looked around and right next to us was the red marker, about five feet off our starboard side, exactly where it should be.  What was going on?  Are we really going to run aground in the middle of the channel?  No way!  That’s not fair!

The depth continued to drop until it read 2.8.  This is bad.   I’m not sure if we were sticking in the mud, but we must have been because my dad added more throttle and waited.   We all breathed a sigh of relief as the boat accelerated and the depth started to rise again.  Apparently the mud had shifted and now in what was supposed to be the channel there was a large mound of mud.  We thanked the water/ocean Gods for letting us through and continued our journey south.

Awesome sunset treat.

Later in the day we were treated to one of the greater sunsets that I’ve ever seen.  The sky went from a deep blue above us to a brilliant orange that faded to red, and I think it wrapped around about 180 degrees from our bow to our stern.  Just gigantic.

I took a bunch of pictures, and I think I captured the moment, which is one of the main goals of the photographer.  After looking at the pictures I think I found one of the reasons why sunsets at sea are so much better.  The reflections!  In the picture at left you can see how the sunset appears so much larger because it reflects off the water and doubles its size.

A short while later we were anchored up just outside “the cut” with the aromas of Larry’s dinner wafting up from the galley.  And what a dinner it was!  Laid out for our dining pleasure was:

• Fillet Mignon (for me)
• Swordfish with lemon butter (for everyone else)
• Homefries
• Asparagus
• Salad

Sammy, Carrib, and "Ethnically Confused"

There was another treat we had in store for us.  One other purchase that had been made back in Coinjock was ice which we now added to our glasses of rum with much pleasure.  Ahh the luxury!

After we had consumed a couple glasses of of The Captain my dad brought out three wigs that he had brought with him and kept smuggled in his bag.  Time for a Halloween party boys!  My dad, Pete and I put on the wigs and became “Caribbean Guy”, “Sammy Hagar”, and “Ethnically Confused Guy”

The original plan was to go out on the town with our costumes, but since we were anchored out in what was essentially a swamp, we had our own party with more of the rum and a few Yuenglings each.  Only the frogs and birds were entertained by our antics as we partied into the wee hours of the night, which for us I think meant somewhere around 9:00 PM.

November 1, 6:00 AM

I woke up again before the sun, that’s 3 in a row!  I spent a few minutes on deck with Pete and Archie discussing the possible location of  a lighthouse light that we were seeing off our starboard quarter.  Once the dawn had lightened enough for Archie to be able to see, we hauled anchor and began motoring out of our anchorage.  We were the last ones in the previous night, and by all accounts we were the first ones out this morning.  We’re hardcore!

A few short minutes later we were making our turn into “the ditch” which is a series of long straight cuts through the jungle-cypress-swamp on either side. We were on alert for cows, which someone had read were to be seen pasturing on either sode.  We never saw a single one.

Are we in the Serengeti?

There was plenty of nature to be seen though, including a bald eagle!  Unfortunately not only did I not have my camera on deck, but it had the wrong lens on (not the zoom).  I ran to get it anyway and ended up with a picture of a lot of trees with what you can almost tell is a bald eagle.  Oh well…

Another theme of the day were all these boats behind us that were worried about their masts hitting the bridges.  We went under one and had “full tickle” (where the antenna on the top of our mast hits every girder on the bridge) so we radioed out this fact, and that the bridge was reading 64.5 to 65 feet of clearance.  We never got a reply so we were starting to believe (as opposed to suspect) that there was something wrong with our radio (perhaps from too many full tickles).  The radio continued to chatter all day with these boats talking back and forth about bridge heights.  Along with the constant radio traffic of power boats asking to pass sailboats, it get’s a little tiring.

I spent a lot of time on deck basking in the sun, taking nature shots and basking in the sun some more.  There were a lof of logs and stumps lining the river whose reflections made for some interesting pictures.

Bird and Sky

Later on we found ourselves in a larger opening of water just before Belhaven and there were tons of birds flying around.  I was in full photographer mode and spent another half-hour or so trying to get a full-frame shot of one of them.  I never got the exact picture I wanted, but I got a couple that I was satisfied with.

A little later we arrived outside of Belhaven with the wind off our starboard side.  We needed to make a left-hand turn to Goose Creek, but doing so would force us to jibe, and we were all feeling lazy.  Dad, who was at the helm, instead decided on a 270 degree tack, the lazy jibe.  The maneuver worked out fine though and we were soon sailing our way through the Bay River passing through Kenyon Bay, Sparrows Gut, and Great Gut Bay.

There was an additional moment of excitement when a power boat raced past us on our right.  I was at the helm at the time and looked on my chart to see where the boat was going.  I realized that he was headed straight for a very shallow part that was clearly marked with a buoy.  He was well inside of where he should have been, and he should have been well aware of it as well.  I pointed out the impending tragedy that was about to happen to my crew mates and we watched as he  blindly drove right over the shallows.  We completely expected his engines to come ripping off his stern, but they did not.  He got very lucky and his boat was spared from complete destruction.

Later we were passed by a much saner and respectable boat called the Viking Fjord.  We had been listening to the captain on the radio as he passed other sailboats behind us and decided that he would be a good candidate to use as a test for our radio.  Earlier we had noticed that the wires going to the handset on the cockpit were frayed, and that this was very likely the reason many of our transmissions were going unheard.  It turned out that this was the case because he could hear us much better when we used the handset in the navigation station down below.

We crossed the Neusse River in a quick two miles, and had lunch on the way.  Burgers!  These things were great, lettuce, tomato, onion, ketchup (just a touch) and relish (and mushrooms for everyone else).  Something about the simple ingredient list made these some really great burgers.  Plus, I mean common, it’s a burger.

Larry Spotting Buoys

We followed another sailboat into the Goose River (I think that’s what it was called) which was narrow at first, but proved easy.  We passed a Coast Guard inflatable with two Coasties that looked like they were having too much fun bombing around in their boat.  Later on the channel closed up again and the chart showed zeros on either side of us…not comfortable.  I was still at the helm nervously poking my way forward.  The unease was magnified when we came around a corner to see a sailboat aground.  The captain was prepared though, he used his inflatable dinghy as a sort of tug and pushed his boat’s bow back over into the channel while his wife advanced the throttle to get back into deeper water.  For a while it looked like she was going to drive right over to the shore on the opposite side and jump ship.  We figured maybe she had finally had enough of this sailing adventure and wanted off.  She didn’t though, and the man in the dinghy was finally able to catch up and re-board his ship.

We made it through the scary-shallows, followed a Canadian boat out into Pamlico sound, and watched with pleasure as the depths increased to very comfortable numbers.  Since we had a good wind going we set our sails and shut down the engine for a fuel filter change.  Even with just our sails up the strong breeze was pushing us along at 6 or so knots.  We looked over our shoulders and noticed with pleasure that the sailboat behind us who was still motoring was not making ground on us.

After changing the filter we fired up the diesel again and motor-sailed.  After a while we came to a right-hand turn that put the wind right on our stern.  I did all right for a while trying to keep the wind from getting behind the sail and jibing us.  It didn’t last long though, a few minutes later an especially large roller got under our stern and I didn’t keep up with it fast enough.  Frantically turning the wheel to right was not enough the prevent the wind from getting under the port side of our main sail.  There’s not many things on a sailboat that sound worse than an accidental jibe.  When fifteen knots of wind gets behind three-hundred square feet of sail, it creates a lot of force, and a lot of noise when it comes to rest on the other side.

We decided against further attempts to motor sail downwind.  I turned into the wind and we brought the sails back into their furlers.

November 1, 2010 – 3:45 PM

Pete takes over for me at the helm – I had been there since 11:30 so I was definitely ready for a break.  I went down below to attempt a nap but had no success, so I went back up on deck to join the conversation which was currently deciding whether or not to sail through the night.  We listened to the weather radio which was reporting winds 15 to 20 out of the North East and waves at 7 and building.  I know we were all thinking the same thing, a night at anchor is starting to sound pretty good.

Around 6PM at the entrance to Adam’s Creek we made the decision to anchor there and continue on in the morning.  The weather should be better tomorrow, there are still a lot of miles to go before we hit open water, and none of us really wanted to do those at night.

Larry Cookin' up a Storm

After anchoring we sat down to another slammin’ dinner of salad, pork chops, dirty rice with beans, baked beans, bread and Yuengling (of course).  That’s a lot of beans.  After finishing up dinner we headed up on deck to watch the sunset (how do I not have a picture!) and enjoy more beer.

As the sun settled and the night arrived, we watched as a couple tugs passed behind us, always marveling at the sheer skill it takes to bring a 300 foot barge through the same places that we were so carefully navigating our boat.  And this was at night no less!  In addition, you can feel the power from the “however many horsepower” engines chugging away inside the rounded hulls.

Later, when the full darkness of night had settled upon the quiet anchorage, my dad and I were still on deck when two speedboats zipped by, wide open, with no lights on.

“Those guys are crazy.” we both said.

Later on we noticed a boat come out of a nearby harbor with a search light scanning the shoreline, and we heard a helicopter in the distance.  There were only 2 possible options we could think of, either the boats were part of a drug run, or they had crashed and there was now an active search going on.  We checked the radio, but there was no Coast Guard announcement of “missing boats” or anything, so we were convinced that however unlikely it was, maybe it really was a drug run.

Pete and Larry shower, so we run the engine to heat up the water, and then we’re all in bed by about 9:30.

November 2, 6:15 AM

Wow, 6:15?  We slept in today!  After seeing 4 sunrises in a row my body is in tune with the solar rhythm now.  Kind of like hiking I’ve become synchronized to the sun.

The Black Boat

As we were readying to pull anchor I saw two boats come around the corner from the south.   Finally the mystery from last night is revealed.  It was neither of our guesses and was actually a Naval exercise.  As the boats got closer we could see that this was some sort of elite squad – seals?  They were all blacked out, and there was some sort of machine gun on each boat’s bow.

I happened to have my camera on deck and took a couple shots as they raced by.  In one of the pictures you can clearly see the driver of the lead boat looking right at me.  He almost seems to be thinking, “Hmmmm…should I take him out?  Nah…I’ll let him live.”

With all our questions from last night answered, we pulled anchor and headed towards Beaufort North Carolina which was the terminating point of last year’s trip (not by design).  We won’t be stopping this year, and after Beaufort I will be in waters that I have never sailed before.  Ahead of me lies the last piece of water that I need to have sailed all the waters between Point Judith, Rhode Island and Tampa, Florida.

There’s a sense of trepidation on the boat as we all start to consider what could be a very nasty Tuesday afternoon, Tuesday night, Wednesday, and Wednesday night.  There’s going to be big following seas the whole way, and the wind hasn’t let up at all.  It’s pretty much going to be going back into the same water-based rock tumbler that we were in before.

Larry cooks us up a nice breakfast of oatmeal with rasins, pancakes, ham, coffee and orange wedges.  After breakfast I go down to write in my journal for a while.  At this point I’ve stopped writing prose and am just writing down bullet points of things I want to talk about.

The Rest of The Journey

Back in Open Water

Dolpheeeen off the bow!

I never entered anything for the next two days in my journal, so I don’t have specifics.  It did suck for a while, but not nearly as much as the northern section, and I still took a bunch of pictures.

The predicted high seas did not disappoint and we spent two days rolling around in them.  It’s very difficult to get a picture of waves that really describes their true size, and how they make you feel.  I did get a couple though that come close.

I also got my best dolphin picture yet.  In the past when dolphin have been around I’ve tried to get the “dolphin all the way out of the water” shot and never ever came close.  You always get te nose, or the tail, but never all of it.  I’ve taken 60 or 70 shots before and never gotten anything.

This time I wasn’t really into it so I was just holding my camera outside the canopy above my head, sort of nonchalantly waiting for a dolphin to appear off our bow.  I saw one jump out of the corner of my eye and depressed the shutter release button.  When I looked at the preview I could not believe my eyes.  There was the beast in full profile, and the composition of the photo wasn’t bad either.  Ok, sweet!  I guess I can cross that one off the list and start working on the “dolphin that takes up an entire frame” shot.  Maybe before I die  might actually get that one!

Big Roller off the Bow

I don’t remember too many other specifics of the final leg to Charlestown except that we made exceptional time due to the generous tailwind we were enjoying. By virtue of this we made it to Charlestown on Wednesday morning and were able to have a night of crew leave.  We ended up at the same rib place that we had been to before but by accident, then on the way back we stopped by the bar at the marina.  In true sailor fashion I stayed there a little too long, bought my brother a shirt (but didn’t remember I had the next morning) and stumbled back to my bunk.

Chopin – Grande Valse Brillante

Brahms – Sonata C major Opus 1

• 1 tsp peanut oil
• 1/2 cup finely chopped onion
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 Tbsp minced peeled fresh ginger
• 1 jalapeno pepper, minced
• 1 Cup water
• 1 (28 ounce) can no-salt-added diced tomatoes, undrained
• 1 12-ounce can light beer
• 1/4 cup unsalted, dry-roasted peanuts
• 3 Cups chopped, skinned turkey (or chicken)
• 1/2 Cup light coconut milk
• 1/2 Cup finely chopped parsley
• 1/2 Cup finely chopped cilantro
• 1 Tbsp fresh lime juice
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Steps:

• Heat oil in a dutch oven (or a big pot)
• Add onion and garlic, sauté 2 minutes
• Add ginger and jalapeño sauté 30 seconds
• Stir in water, tomatoes, and beer.  Bring to a boil and cover.
• Reduce heat, simmer 20 minutes.
• Place peanuts in spice grinder, grind until fine.  (you can substitute peanut butter too)
• Add peanuts, meat, and coconut milk to pan.  Stir to combine.
• Increase heat to medium, bring to simmer, cook 5 minutes.
• Stir in parsley, cilantro, juice, salt, and black pepper.
• Garnish with cilantro sprigs if desired.

For the Rub:

• 1 Tbsp curry powder
• 2 tsp paprika
• 2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp ground pepper

Mix these together to make a rub.

For the rest:

• 1 3 pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces (or 8 chicken thighs or similar)
• 1/2 cup all purpose flour
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil
• 2 Onions finely chopped
• 1 green bell pepper, chopped
• 1 red bell pepper, chopped
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/2 tsp cumin
• 1 28 oz can ready-cut peeled tomatoes
• 1 1/2 Cups chicken stock or canned broth
• 1/4 cup chopped green onions
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
• 2 Tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 1/2 cups long grain white rice
• 3 cups water
• 1/2/ cup chopped raisins (optional)

Steps:

• Preheat oven to 350
• Rub the mix you made at the top onto the chicken.  Save 2 Tbsp of the rub for the rice later.
• Dip chicken into flour, shake off excess.
• Heat oil in large heavy skillet.
• Add chicken and brown well, turning frequently.
• Transfer chicken to paper towels and drain.
• Ad 2 onions, bell peppers, garlic and cumin to skillet and sauté until onions brown a bit.
• Mix in tomatoes, stock, green onions and 1/4 cup parsley.
• Arrange chicken in large baking dish.  Pour sauce over chicken.
• Bake until cooked through, about 35 minutes, or longer to tenderfy the chicken even more.

Grab a beer, then make rice…

• Melt butter in heavy pan
• Add rice and remaining 2  tsp of spice rub.  Cook 2 minutes, stirring constantly.
• Add 3 cups water and bring to a boil.  Cover, reduce heat until rice is done…blah blah blah…you know how to make rice….
• Mix raisins into rice if you want (I don’t).
• Spoon rice onto platter, top with chicken, devour.

• 1/2 C currants of raisins
• 1/4 C Dry Sherry
• 3 Tbsp Butter
• 2 Tbsp finely chopped Onion
• 1 C Milk
• 1 Med Apple
• 3 T flour
• 1 1/2 tsp curry powder
• 6 boneless chicken breasts

Steps:

• Soak currants in sherry
• Melt butter in heavy skillet (low)
• Add onions – saute.
• Add flour and curry
• Whisk in milk
• Bring to boil
• Add currants and apple
• Remove from heat
• Salt to taste.
• Put chicken in buttered pan, cover with sauce
• Top with almonds
• Bake @ 350 for about 30 minutes.

Ingredients:

• 3 Tbsp Olive Oil
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1 pound boneless chicken, cut in strips
• 1 1/2 6oz jars marinated artichoke hearts
• One 7 oz jar roasted peppers
• 1/2 Cup black olives
• Salt, pepper, Parmesan
• 3.4 pound Tri-color Fusilli

Steps:

• Cook onion and garlic in oil until clear
• Add chicken, cook about 5 min
• Mix in Artichoke hearts, peppers (with liquid) and olives.  Heat through.
• Season with salt and pepper.
• Pour over pasta and serve with Parmesan.

Chicken Curry

From a reddit post, placed here so I can find it quickly later

INGREDIENTS Basmati rice or naan

Chicken, 1.5-2 lbs, preferably with bone

Onion, 1 red or 2 yellow, about fist sized

Potatoes, 5-6 medium ‘size B’ (red skin)

Tomatoes, 2-3 Roma (twice as much if out of season)

Garam masala

Bay, 1 or 2 leaves

Green or Black Cardamom, 3-5 seeds

Thai Chilies, 5 or 6 or chili powder (Cayenne, 90 KHU works ok)

Cinnamon, 1 large stick or 2 medium

Garlic to taste

Ginger root, fresh

Salt, kosher, 4 tsp

Turmeric, 1 tsp (be careful, it will stain everything)

PREP Slice onion, tomatoes, and potatoes. Onion should be smallest, somewhere between dicing and chunking. Tomato and potato approximately into twelfths or sixteenths. Grate a handful of ginger.

COOK

1. Heat a capful of oil until it is fluid but not popping/smoking.

2. Add cinnamon, bay, cardamom, and heat briefly. –Crack green cardamom before adding, add black cardamom as is. –If these begin to burn, just continue immediately to next step.

3. Add onions, turn down the heat. Add ginger (and garlic). Caramelize the onions—not fully, just until they are a deep brown.

4. Add tomato and stir occasionally for several minutes. Continue until tomatoes are cooked and slightly limp.

5. Add salt, turmeric (chili powder goes in here), mix thoroughly.

6. Add potato and fresh chilies, and approximately 2 cups of water, stir occasionally, cover. –Slit chilies and remove stems before adding, and wash your hands. –Potatoes take forever, maybe nuke for 1-2 minutes before adding. –Water will continue to reduce as potatoes cook, add ¼ – ½ cup as necessary.

7. After the potatoes are finally done, add chicken to cook fully and finish the flavour.

8. You forgot to make rice.

Sailing Maina - Pointing Well Up To Concarneau

Sailing Log of Maïna

What follows is the log of our trip to France sailing on Maïna, a Beneteau Oceanis 411. The convention is pretty easy to follow, sections starting with “(A)” were log entries written by Andrew, sections beginning with “(D)” were written by Dad (Jim). Truly an awesome experience!

Also, you will see reference to “bets” between dad and I.  This is an idea we stole from a book “My Old Man and The Sea” where the son and father use large, fake bets to make the trip more interesting. (The book is a good read and I recommend it to anyone who likes reading this kind if stuff, which, if you’re reading this (and like it), you probably do.)

Anyway…on with the show!

21 August 2003 – 1230 – The Adventure Begins

(A) Sitting in the Westerly train station waiting for the train. Hmmm I guess that’s what you do at a train station.

“Where you guys headed?” ”Nowhere, just hanging at the station.”

Yeah right haha…

I guess the train’s running a little late. Dad and I entertained thoughts of going over to the bar next door for a couple of “eye openers” but thought better of it. Maybe not such a bad idea though since it’s 6:30 pm where we’re going. What better way to adjust to the new time zone? I wonder if all train stations have bars next to them. That would make a kind of neat book (and a lot of fun to write too). Take a long train trip and ….accela just went by…..man would it hurt to get hit by that. Of course TGV can blow that thing away.  Anyway, back to the topic of the train-bar-hopping trip. That would be a pretty neat I think.

22-August – Paris to the Marina

(A) We’re here!  Boy, I need a shower. Ooh, I almost forgot.  What would a trans-continental flight be without a baby crying for the ENTIRE trip? Granted, sometimes it wasn’t crying as much as at other times, but it was always there.  And a baby crying most of the time might as well be crying all the time.   Then the guy sitting behind us, he had a case of the plague or something, he kept blowing his nose and stuff…that’s nice.   But as usual the Air France crew was very nice and the food was good – supper and breakfast.

While waiting at the Mount Parnesse train station a couple of interesting things happened. While Dad was getting the tickets, a nice looking, well-dressed lady came up to me and started speaking in French. “Je ne parles pas Françoise” I replied. So she repeated whatever she has said so I repeated what I had said. This time she realized what I was saying so she tried a third time except this time she just held out her hand and said “Money …. my child”, while pointing to the child strapped into the carriage in front of her. After awhile I managed to convince her I wasn’t going to give her anything.

After that we got a bite to eat and then sat by the “Big Board” waiting to see which track the “St Nazair” train left from. I had to take a leak so I struck off to find a bathroom.

TOILETTE

Ahhh, I read the sign and walked to the right.

Confused….hmmm, I suppose that that’s men’s bathroom. I entered the door not quite sure which way to go. I finally saw a sign for “Hommes” and went that way. There was a set of turnstiles there like you see in a subway (should have been my first clue, but I was tired and being a stupid American).  A voice behind me started yelling so I turned my travel-weary body in the direction of the voice to see what’s up. The guy said something in French and, seeing I had no idea what he was saying, switched to English.

“Do you not see the countere? You must pay. You do not know you must pay?”

“No…I mean…Non, Je’n sais pas”.

I think he lectured me for a bit longer, I really don’t remember. I just wanted to go to the bathroom. I eventually gave the lady at the counter a ½ e piece and she handed me back 10 centimes and a token. I turned and went back to the turnstile, put in my token and pushed on the stile to the right. No go!

“Outré – outré!” the voice behind me called.

Ahhh, the other one of course, man do I feel like an idiot (imbécile, crétin), and yes it worked. Anyway, I went in, did my business and got lost on the way out too. This is not going well!  I better just go back and sit down.

Back on the bench…

We saw a dog crap on the floor too (we’ll see another dog do this later). Then me and the old French lady beside me waited eagerly to see who would step in it first.  No words were exchanged, but I’m sure we both understood the game we were both playing.

Travel does strange things to people.

(D) Words from Pop.

We’re floating through the French countryside on a bright sunny day. Ahhh, the TGV; a world apart from the flight with a record breaking 6 hour crying baby. Lunch was jambon and buerre on a crusty petite baguette – and a Lipitor to address all the buerre.

Armed with the knowledge that a cab ride from Charles De Gaulle to Mt. Parnesse was 40 euro we weren’t too alarmed at the seemingly circuitous route the driver took through Paris. But we arrived at 38 euro and had an early morning glimpse of the city without crowded streets. It’s a pleasure to see a population absent the fat families of home.  So, I’m wishing the train good speed as I will be “up $1000” on my bets with Andrew if we arrive within four minutes of schedule.

Oh yeah, another thought from a tired mind. We honestly declared the three CO2 cartridges in our luggage for our life vests and had them promptly confiscated. Two hours later as we watched the safety video showing how 300 passengers could each inflate the lifejackets under their seats by pulling the CO2 inflator, we realized we’d been had!  I hope they sell the right size replacements at the marina or we’re screwed. Two strikes with Frederique – no boots et non flotation.

At 4:16 pm the train stops at Le Croisic, “Sweet” another $1000 in the betting bank but moderated by -$200 because Eric and Catherine were alone to greet us. We make a quick stop at Batz to shower, meet Francois, Lawrence, Eve and Jean; drink a bier and then pile into two cars bound for La Trinity–sur-Mer where we will be introduced to Maïna, our home for the next week. And what a home! She’s nearly new with only three prior trips and she’s well fitted out for cruising.

Francois takes charge of stowing a huge pile of provisions and I wonder if we will be able to take everything. Included, just to highlight but two items, are 12 bottles of wine Uncle Bernard has chosen and 12 dozen eggs which Eric will use to introduce the American breakfast egg sandwich to the French at each port-of-call. Then we’re off to a wonderful dinner of mussels and frites (steak Pouivre for Andrew). At about midnight we return to Maïna, bid farewell to Jean and Francois and begin to plan our first leg. Andrew and I crawl into the port quarter berth. I am tired but unable to sleep.

Oh yeah – Flip, should you read this, we’ll sail with the companionway slats OUT and put the transom seat in the DOWN position in port – there’s actually a slot in the seat section which fits in the rails just for this purpose!

23 August 0700 – We’re on a boat, and it’s Freakin Awesome!

(D) The smell of coffee and creaking of the companionway stairs announces the start of the day. Frederique and I lay out the course to Belle Isle separately and find we agree –nearly exactly.  So Andrew puts the waypoints into the GPS via latitude/longitude and finds that two are fifty miles from the intended location…boy, tough getting used to writing longitudes that begin with 003 degrees instead of 071.

A quick trip to town produces a single pair of sea boots (size 41) which Andrew and I will have to share and hopefully we’ll fool Frederique by taking separate watches if we need to appear properly fitted out. No CO2 cartridges for me but Andrew scores. 1145 and the voyage and excitement begins.

Oh yeah, I forgot about the Charter representative who spoke fluent English (ha-ha) who checked us out. He got our checklist and couldn’t figure out why I kept asking where the fuel/water separator was located. Catherine translates “It’s a new boat so you won’t need one. Just call us if you have a problem and I’ll come out and fix it for you.” C’est-la-vie.

Back to 1145. Fred gives the order to get underway and I back $250,000 worth of fiberglass into the channel – and to the sudden discovery of French sailing psyche. “Gentlemen raise your sails and race to Belle Isle”. Never mind the green crew, reversed buoys, unfamiliar boat (yes, the sail cover does need to be opened and the reef lines eased out).  But we make it to the mouth of the channel in a fresh breeze, with pounding hearts and big smiles. Tensions ebb and flow as we encounter a regatta, lose the wind, gain a current and are startled by a VHF radio which periodically sounds a repeating alarm (we’ll figure out that soon).

Ahh, but the reward is sweet! At a mooring outside Sauzon Harbor we have perfect weather and a good swim – uninhibited people. Maïna has delivered us to a cruiser’s paradise in 3 hours 45 minutes.  What may become the routine of the cruise sets in. Sail, moor, swim, aperitif, “annex” into town dock (annex = dingy), shop for souvenirs and bread, annex back to Maina, wine, dinner, plan for tomorrow, check the Meteo (weather) and to bed. No matter that it is 2400 – 0100!

24 August – Port Tudy, Sauzon – A Dog Craps

(D) Quick entry as it is ten past midnight and we must arise at 0300 for trip to Le Glennan.

First night – windy at the mooring, early departure and good sail in force 4 wind till noon. Then anchor and break for lunch. Then Frederique wants to practice raising the spinnaker (la spi) in light winds and heat. Then to Isle de Groix (just look at Eric’s pictures to see what a cool place this is). To town and an ancient style shithouse (see sketch) which prevents Eric from dumping. But a dog does crap on someone’s annex.  Beer at a great bar – party boat in annex singing great songs while we eat huitres, Country chicken and red and white wines. Plot course on paper and GPS, abed for three hours sleep. “Don’t forget the tale of “The Jesus People”!

Port Tudy - Beverages

(A) I have to expand on the whole dog crap thing.  This was absolutely one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.  We’re just sitting at a table outside the bar, enjoying our frosty beverages, when we see this wharf dog appear and begin to trot around.  This dog actually backs himself up to an overturned dinghy and proceeds to lay a deuce right on top of it!  I wish we had a video of it, because I’m sure no one will believe that it actually happened…but it did!

25 August – The Overnight (sort of)

(D)  At 0300 the neighboring boat has a person standing by for our departure but no plan. A great and rapid exchange in French with Fred has us underway and them adrift at the bow end.

“Too bad for them” says Fred.

We put into a stiff breeze and slight swell and the man overboard light keeps falling and flashing. Andrew at the helm, me Eric and Fred on the winches. Hoist the main, unfurl the Genoa and fall off into an exhilarating 7-8 knot sail. All in PFD’s, harnesses and lanyards.

Our charted course and GPS coincide and we begin to relax. Fishing boats abound and we see a possible submarine appear astern with flashing amber light.  Sunrise approaches as we race to Isle de Glennan for Eric’s planned sunrise photos.  We are to turn toward Glennan at first light and tension regains its hold. Andrew is still at the helm but goes to “triboard” instead of “baboard” saying “There’s combers breaking over there!”

Across the top we practice coming about “Paree a virer” “Envoyez”

Fred describes the entry point and we tack towards “Pei” and the anchorage beyond. Eric gets his photos but confusion on maneuvers results in Andrew coming about much to Fred’s dismay. This was her sailing school and she wanted to enter under sail in grand fashion. But we had lowered sails and motored in.

Perhaps this was a result of language confusion but I think Fred misjudged where we were. We had agreed on an approach but ended up in a blind cove filled with boats. Andrew was cool and we got back to open water.

Couse Into Glenans

(A) Ok, a little more on the excitement upon entry.  I drew an example of the course we took on the way into Les Glenans (click the image at left to see a larger version, I traced it from the Google Map Satellite View).  The top of the image indicates where we came in from, that’s all nice, safe, deep water (we even did a loop while trying to figure out exactly where the entrance is.  One thing we did not want to do was run aground in our nice shiny new boat.

Upon entering we saw a lot of masts so we headed that direction (where the red line juts downward.  The only problem was that we didn’t realize there were two harbors, one that we were entering and one behind that tiny strip of sand which just so happens to be awash at high tide.  This second harbor, the one behind a beach, was our intended destination.  At the helm, I realized what was about to happen (we were sailing full-bore, both sails up and engine off, into a dead end packed with boats).  We were literally forty seconds from either going aground or having it get very exciting as we try tack and jibe our way through a full mooring field back to safety.

I turned hard to starboard, yelled “Tacking!” and pulled a 180.  I remember someone asking me “Where are you going?!”.  “Back the way we came in!” was my reply.  Much to Fred’s dismay, the crew decides to drop sail and continue on power (she was hoping to come in under sail alone like she learned at sailing school, and really who could blame her?  But after a near-grounding, safety was more prominent on our minds).  It all turned out well though.  We found our way around to the other side and found a spot to moor.

(D) First an omelet, then a nap for all. Eric stays aboard for another nap and our shore party departs for a swim and to visit a café for our aperitif (see sketch).

Fred recounts how, when here at sailing school, they could only get to the café for a beer when the tide was low enough to cross the bar. The islands have become a tourist attraction and, like Block Island, several ferries disgorge crowds of people who go to the beach, have something to eat and drink and then return on the afternoon boats leaving things peaceful once again.

{picture off Eric’s preacher dive}

{sketch of Glennan beach}

Most of us, well perhaps not Bernard, feel we have pushed hard enough and would like to chill out here and then head back but Fred has in mind to see Point Raz and Isle de Seine as she puts it “for Eric’s pictures”. We defer decision.

Dog story #2. A family coming back from the beach has a cool dog and also an ankle biter. The incoming tide is rushing across the bar so the guy is carrying the little dog like a kitten by the scruff of its neck. I think he heard Andrew and me commenting, but for whatever reason he drops the dog into the water saying “Je fatigue”.

(A) …cool dog?

26 August – Up The River Without A Paddle!

(D) It rained last night but the dawn breaks clear and breezy as we slip the mooring under sail alone. We tack through the narrow rocky channel and into the open water while others leave under power. Frederique’s reputation is restored at la Glennan Cole Antique!

Our spirits are soon moderated as the wind clocks around and drops to force 1. On with le meteor for an eight hour leg down the coast.  Dolphins and picturesque lighthouses offer moments of fascination as we work our way toward St. Eves and Audienne. As we approach the final set of cardinal buoys (we’re really getting to like these aids) Fred offers up another surprise.

“We go up the river to town to buy fresh fish and baguettes”.

Andrew’s attempt to negotiate a mooring with “We can get everything we need at the marina” bears no fruit. So with me at the helm we proceed up an unknown river with a quick look at the guidebook. The picturesque town is worth the stress but we have only 1 ½ hours as the tide is falling.

(A) In other words…we’re afraid of running aground in the middle of a river!

(D) We shop for supplies and go to the post office. Then Catherine and Fred go to market, Eric for film and Bernard and I to la poissonire for the fresh fish. He doesn’t know what to buy so he lets me order while he coaches me with the language as needed.

The triumphant hunter-gatherer returns from his expedition with a baggette in hand.

Andrew and I get back to Maïna first. A Swedish boat is rafted alongside which could delay us past our required departure time. We’re worried that we can’t communicate our dilemma but we are greeted in English by the woman aboard who says she saw our (American) flag flying.

Time to depart and an old tactic proves successful to communicate my level of stress.

“Fred, you will take the boat off the dock and out while I tend lines”

“I’ve never sailed a boat with a wheel helm.” her nervous reply.

So I back her out and conciliations are offered as we maneuver to a mooring.

Only Eric’s pictures will be able to convey the beauty of this coastline and the natural and man-made features upon it.

Bernard and I forgo the annex trip to the marina for douches and aperitifs in the now cool and breezy evening. I fillet the turbot while he prepares the potatoes for the chowder Catherine plans to prepare. Three Coronas later we are jesting our way across the language barrier. Our annex arrives. Andrew will have to cover that trip and relate the tale of the hot chicks.  Now it approaches 9:30 pm and all is in complete French order. Aperitifs, dejunier and wine late into the night.

(A)  Too tired to write very much. Good food has been constant. I’m not sure which was better, the country chicken, or the chicken pasta meal. I had two big helpings of both of them.. I think the country chicken may take the prize just because the night was good overall. This was when we were in Port Trudy. One that’s pretty cool in that boats tie up to big moorings front to stern, and then others raft up till there’s no more room.

(Editorial note: Apparently I didn’t write down the “Hot Chicks” story, and now, 7 years later,  it has faded from memory)

(attempt at map)

27 August – “The Muntiny on the Maïna” and Onward To Concarneau

(A) This place is cool. It’s just the kind of port we needed after a long and sometimes stressful sail. The day started with kind of rough weather and a mutiny of sorts. We were sailing towards some island to the north and had a couple of “almost broaches” with the spinnaker and accidental jibes.  I was on the mast and spent one terrifying moment hanging on to it, looking at the water racing by below me as the boat heeled over fifty degrees.  After that we decided to force the idea of turning around and heading towards Concarneau as it was > 20 miles away and getting further all the time.  Our captain was not happy about this, but the crew was quite insistent.

Sunset on A Glassy Sea

We ended up having a great upwind sail and actually putting reefs in the main and jib when the wind approached 20 knots. Of course after we put in the reefs the wind dropped to 14 knots, mother nature is always messing with you.

We arrived outside Concarneau just before sunset.  The wind had dropped and the reflection of the sunset upon a mottled sea made for an amazing visual.  The sea looked surreal (perhaps the fatigue was setting in too.)  However, we were treated with this fantastic sunset on the same day we had also witnessed an amazing sunrise.  Perfection!

Anyway, when we finally reached Concarneau and made it ashore I was amazed. This place looks like Disney World I said.  Well, actually Epcot Center Dad added which was actually a better description. I think the thing that makes it seem so surreal at first are these blue neon lights that run along the edge of the wall. They were there I assume to prevent drunk sailors returning from the bar from walking off the edge into the water.

At the end of the wall is the entrance to an old castle whose wall still extends around the harbor and is lit at night. Inside is a street of shops, ice cream stands and restaurants. We stopped for dinner and my steak came very red in the middle (how I ordered it I think) but it tasted so good. It came with fries too which I had been craving for awhile.

Is This a Dream?

Anyway, I really like this town and wish we had a couple of days to explore before we must depart tomorrow, probably for the same harbor we stayed at our first night which is fine by me because they had nice big, easy-to-catch mooring balls. Docking a 41’ boat that you’ve only docked a couple of times before can be very stressful. We’ve had no time to see how the boat reacts in slow maneuvering. Anyway, until next time.

(D) Well Andrew covered the “mutiny” and that part so I’ll comment about the dangers of fatigue. We’re having a great time so it seems strange to realize how tired we’ve become – more mentally than physically but certainly both. Good thing we’ve become a team because we’ve been able to cover mistakes as they’ve come up –plotting errors, winch mistakes, missing cardinals, going the wrong side of a red buoy (not the Americans). I got to the point at the end of yesterday where I was nearly in a trance. We’ve all gotten to feel comfortable in Maina – she’s a fine boat and once we give the Grand-Voile blocks some of the same olive oil we gave the rudder post she’ll stop making so many annoying noises. We spent some time putting things back in order – the boat really got pretty well trashed the last two days.

28 August – Back to the Future

At the helm during a rolling sea.

(A) We had a cool sail…. I mean motor…from Concarneau to Sauzon, a 30 – 40 mile steam.  There were a couple of cool things. One was an abundance of dolphins with one big pod and a number of other small ones. One of the smaller ones hung out for awhile at our bow. I’m not sure if I got a good picture or not – we’ll see. (Editorial Note:  The answer is no.)

There were also huge rollers out in open where we were today, probably 12-15 feet I guess. The peaks were above my head while I was standing at the helm which is a few feet off the water already.  Anyway, these were the largest waves I’ve been in yet (in a boat that’s not a ferry or something) and it was cool.  Any time you’re in a boat looking up at the water you know there are some major forces at work.  You can’t help but gain a little more respect for the ocean and its power.

There’s a hard decision that you have to make while living on a boat. Would you rather have a cool, fresh, damp cabin or a hot, drier, smelly cabin? We aired out all our sleeping bags and pillows today in a vain attempt to dry them, but something still smells funny in the boat. So I would like to open some windows and air out the smell but I don’t want more wet salt air and dew to get in. I guess the approaching thunderstorm may decide for me.

After taking 3 hot showers each, the crew spotted this sign in the distance....

(D) Back to Sauzon and all realize the end is near. We eat dinner at a local café rather than aboard. It was OK but since this was our last night I think the close camaraderie in Maïna’s salon would have been more fitting – besides, we still have 5 bottles of Bernard’s wine!!

Fred slept most of the trip back since we put up the “iron jib” when becalmed outside Audienne. Fred draws no energy from anything but true sailing. So the motor, plus the offshore route offered nothing of interest.  Big swells and pods of dolphin were nice but nothing to see since we were well offshore until approaching Grois where Eric started taking pictures of big breakers with his telephoto lens.

Fred wants “to learn the motor” so we give her the helm once in the lee of Sauzon Harbor. Full astern for 30 seconds – full ahead – full astern. “OK enough.”

29 August – The Final Sail

(D) Late sleep today (0700) as we have only a short sail back. Café, toast with butter and jam and we’re off. Perfect sailing conditions and Fred is at the helm enjoying every moment.  Andrew’s GPS course adjustments take us safely through the narrows and we’re blowing past everything, including a catamaran that should be whipping us. We sail into La Trinite channel under full main and Genoa.

“It is more impressive that way”, says Fred.

Future Sailors Enjoying the Day

Closer, closer, closer and finally down with the sails. On the way in we pass six classes of sailing school flotillas with kids from age 8-9 through teenagers racing annexes, sloops and catamarans. No wonder the concern about image. As Fred maneuvers in the marina however, things are different and Catherine’s call for us to help gets our attention.

Finally, tied up at “M” dock. Bernard produces the bottle he has been saving for a celebration – red Bordeaux, ‘89 I believe. Many a toast to Maina, then beers followed by rum punch. None of us want to leave emotionally (but a shower and a dry bed would be fine). We spend three hours putting Maïna in Bristol condition and unload just in time to meet Jean, Francois, Anne and Eves.

Eve’s first reaction when coming aboard is “It’s a Parisian boat – electronics, electric winches, auto helm and GPS.” But now Fred took issue with that. Like the rest of us she doesn’t want to leave her.

“Tired?” No matter – aperitifs at local café, then a walk to dinner. Andrew and Eric have convinced most of us – Six steak poivre and frites!

During the hour plus drive back to Batz, Fred and I talk about her experiences at La Glennan School.  It immediately becomes clear why she feels and behaves as she does. All the sailing at the school is done under sail alone – no moteur! She’s sailed in and around Glenan in all weather, day and night and up the coast to the Channel Islands, Ireland and England all in a 27’ boat with a crew of 6-7. Their only concerns weather, wind and current. So they sail when they need to no matter the hour and adjust as they go. Whatever it took to beat the weather, wind, currents and the other boats.

(A) We head back to La Trinite to return the boat. Kind of mixed emotions about that. I’m half ready to get off and half wanting to keep sailing. But I know that I’m ready to get off because my navigating is starting to suffer. I think a day or two off with out 12 – 14 hours of sailing would solve that. If there is another trip I’d like to stay longer in port. I bet there’s a lot of cool places to go exploring. Oh, one more thing, we finally found the CD player!!

1. Heat 3/4 C oil and mix in 1-2 teaspoons vanilla
2. Toss with dry ingredients
3. Bake 375 F on an oiled cookie sheet for 20-30 minutes, stirring to mix every 5-10 minutes

Some additions I’m going to try:

1. No coconut
2. Add chocolate chips after it’s out of the oven.
3. Add Brown sugar or honey or something.

We left Key West at daybreak on the 18th (I think). We had some nasty rollers off our bow that was causing the boat to roll upwards of 50 degrees. That’s an estimate, but when the sailboat’s prop is coming out of the water because of a roll, you know it’s pretty dramatic. We slowed down a few knots and this helped to alleviate some of the rolling. It was still an uncomfortable night trying to sleep though. We pulled into Ft. Lauderdale Tuesday morning, April 20th. My dad took a taxi to his flight back home (the surgeon would be the same one who did his hip) and the remaining crew (Archie, Larry and myself) took showers and relaxed dockside. We had dinner at a nice restaurant on the water, then the next morning we set sail again for Charleston, South Carolina, which would be my final leg of sailing (the boat is continuing to Point Judith). The sail would take about 3 days of offshore sailing ( 2 nights), and with only three people on the boat the overnight watches were a little long. I was on deck (alone for the most part) from 6 – 9:30 PM and then back up on deck from 2 to 6 AM.

However, just because the sailing was over didn’t mean that my adventure was over. My cousin who was deployed in Iraq was going to be home for the week, and there was a party for him on the coming Saturday. So I canceled my flight and instead rented a car. But not just any car, a Cadillac SRX. It was only $140 for 24 hours, not bad really. It was a really nice ride, and the 70 MPH speed limits in SC, and NC make the miles go by fast. It had a Bluetooth-enabled radio that allowed me to hook up my phone’s MP3 player, so I was all set. Windows down, tunes cranked and singing along, and loving going 80MPH (sometimes 90) instead of the boat’s 8! I made a stop at South of the Border for some “gifts” for my cousin and continued on to Maryland where they live.

Party on Saturday, where I finally got to try a Texas “Shiner Bock” beer that I’ve heard so much about. Then do the DC tour thing on Sunday with my brother, his wife and kids. I bummed a ride with him on Monday back up north, and he dropped me off at the Old Saybrook train station. I bought a ticket from there to Westerly (only $13) where my mom picked me up and drove me back to their house. I was full from road food, but she was making my dad’s birthday dinner of Lamb chops, and they smelled so good I couldn’t resist. Three lamb chops, a baked potato and two glasses of wine later I was an extremely satisfied man.

This morning she drive me back to Johnston (where I live now), I picked up my truck and drove to work….The end.

Whew, that’s the “condensed version” believe it or not.

Vampires

Had a cool dream about vampires:

• Being chased through a flooded town.  Lots of people were vampires, just not sure who.
• Hide underneath a car, but something large lands on top of it, crushing the car into the mud (a la Jurassic Park)
• I punch up through the floor of the car, hoping to kill the vampire I guess, but I hit the transmission fluid line by mistake.  The fluid then starts running over my face and I get some in my mouth (it also happens to look a lot like blood, not sure if I knew it was transmission fluid in the dream.)
• Dream switches to a mall scene.  I’m running through the hallways trying to get to an electronics store.
• I finally get to the store and find someone I know, a powerful vampire, waiting for me.
• He asks if I drank the transmission fluid.  I realize that he wants to know because it determines weather or not he can bite me.
• I play coy and say “maybe, maybe not”.
• He decides to bite me and immediately turns has a blue glow around him.
• He frantically searches around the store, consuming other vampires that were there.  This keeps him alive.  However, he soon runs out of other vampires to kill and dissolves into nothing.
• The entire mall goes crazy, realizing that the “big head vampire” is dead.
• Immediate chaos and looting ensues.

The Old Friend

This was a very short dream.  I was playing with my old dog Ena.  Good times!

The Magic Forest

• I’m running through a forest, in Maine I believe.  But there’s also an abandoned building that looks familiar.  It  is on the side of a river and is old, and beaten.  I think I’ve seen the building before (in the dream).  It looks like it belongs on a deep-south river or something.  There’s probably crocs in the water.
• I’m back on the trail in the forest and realize that we’re climbing.  My aunt Laurel is there and we come out into the large path heading up a steep mountain.
• Flowers start to bloom all along the trail around us.  It looks like one of those stop-motion films of spring where the flowers pop out from nothing to full-bloom in ten seconds.  They’re also very pastel and bright primary colors.
• The dream switches to an overhead camera shot and I can see that this is happening all along the trail, both in front and behind us.
• Even where there are large boulders they soon become mountains of vegetation.
• I have my camera, but every time I try to take a picture of one of the flowers or plants that is growing, the color fades out of the viewfinder.  No joy!
• We take a left between two especially large rock-hill-things and we find ourselves back at the building on the water.  Except this time it is full of people and candle-driven yellow light, and a large feast.

saw a cool color in the sky that I’d never seen before. went from powder blue by the sunset to deep navy blue opposite. not a cloud in sight, just a single star (or planet I’m presuming). I wish i had my real camera…

saw a cool color in the sky that I’d never seen before. went from powder blue by the sunset to deep navy blue opposite. not a cloud in sight, just a single star (or planet I’m presuming). I wish i had my real camera…

Love’s a battle
can’t never be won
just let it alone
so she can have her fun
she’s out on the town
all the misery-o
if you’re goin out again
just give me a call

she’s a mystery
to me and herself
she might like you
but she loves herself
in her eyes all anger and fear
she ain’t gonna show it
won’t shed a tear

Pre-release version:
No Love

Give it some time,
let nature take hold.
Forests ‘r like hearts,
they like to grow old

And he played the fiddle
while she would dance
short skirt twirled ’round corduroy pants.
Old age, new age,
we’ll meet in the middle
Singing the song of forbidden fiddle

Old rusty dinghy,
brand new cell phone
Best thing about
those they always see you home

He rows his boat
like she goes to the store
Buyin’ brand new clothes
she can’t afford

And he played the fiddle
while she would dance
short skirt twirled ’round corduroy pants.
Old age, new age,
we’ll meet in the middle
Singing the song of forbidden fiddle

Pre-Release Version:
Forbidden Fiddle

Beach full of sand
Aint nothing planned
One thing on my mind

Jump in the ocean
Sun tan lotion
want me to apply?

wet bikini
dry martini
anchor over the side

gonna have ourselves a time tonight

find a cove
that no one knows
listening to prine

cookies and gin
put the hendricks in
another slice of lime

coke and whiskey
chicks are frisky
stars are out tonight

Huggin Kissin
Bathing suit missing
Better close the blinds

gonna have ourselves a time tonight
gonna have a sandy bed tonight
gonna have a sunburn tonight

Alternate version:
Have Ourselves a Good Time Tonight (5)

Kegstands in the air
shotgun or funnel a beer
ice luge
with a shot of jaegar

Short skirt and makeup on
showing off a sexy thong
tramp stamp
that says i’m easy

all the guys think im hot
showing off what I got
and that aint much
but i’m horny

Red plastic cup
gonna go and fill it up
aint going home alone again

Red plastic cup
30 grand just to fill it up
But I’m hooking up again

I won’t call her in the morning
He’ll call me in the morning
hungover looking for
self-esteem

Listen Now!

Ribs in The Oven.PDF

And I pay my bills
Changed the will
Living the divorced life
I can’t live without a wife

Kids are changing schools
You make up the rules
with your dime store book advice

I can’t live
With you anymore.

With broken vows
nights out on the town
You went and left it all
Are you the same anymore

The young guys tell you
‘What you doing here’
I’d sleep with you tonight

Tomorrow your age
wrinkles on the stage
of celebrity from the night before

So just stop asking cause when i’m talking to you
I’ve probably already had a few
and if  you aint careful
the next song
will be about you

He’s my grandpa
And I love him
I can’t wait
to see him again
I want to talk
bout the trip we had
And tell him that I love him

I was a boy with a mind so so wild
I ate pancakes
too many for a child
but I felt like a man
with my grandfather-man

I got sick and he understood
Just like the man, that I knew he was
yes he was
perpetually kind,
give his sight to the blind
yes he would

He’s my grandpa
And I love him
I can’t wait
to see him again
I want to talk
bout the trip we had
And tell him that I love him

Every day I wake
I know that he’s with me
watching my path looking out for me
and I know someday we’ll meet again
cause he’s my grandfather man

the killer bees are gay, we’ll find a place a to stay
a hundred miles more
and we can pray

A steak and shake a change of clothes
they’ll be on our toes
but we’ve got a stone to take and I know we’ve got to go,

cause he’s my grandfather man

Listen To It Now:
grandfather_man

Sometimes I feel so sad
‘Bout the girlfriend
That I don’t have
Sitting home alone again
I want one by my side
A woman through the night
Sometimes I feel it so strong

[chorus]
And then my friend calls me
Bout the troubles he has had
And suddenly
I don’t feel so bad

She aint ever mean
smells so nice and clean
always wakes up with a smile

Ice skating in the snow
Taking off those winter clothes
Making love by the fire

[chorus]
Put on a sexy dress
Your makeup is a mess
Because we’re kissing in the rain

Buying you new clothes
Manicures and pretty toes
That shade sure looks good on you

[chorus]

She tells me she loves me
Want to meet her family
Watch the sunset on the beach

My thoughts all pretty things
Churchbells and wedding rings
Two kids and a house

Listen To it Now:

Had a beer, just aint feeling right
Wont get me in jail, get me in a fight
Wont make me fall asleep somewhere I don’t know
Wake up in the morning Wearing all my clothes

[chorus]
How Many, How many have you had
How Many, Still Feeling Sad
I need a Stiff Drink
I need a Stiff Drink
I need a Stiff Drink Tonight

Ordered another Draft , Put It on my tab
Won’t end up throwing up or Hailing a Cab
Won’t make me grab the microphone or Start to Dance
Won’t Make me ask her If I Have a Chance

[Chorus]

Hey Bartender, I’ll Have another Pint
Sure as hell Wont, Get Shut Off Tonight
Won’t End Up Yelling, “The Bouncer is a Jerk”
Won’t End up Sleeping In and Calling in to Work

[Chorus]

Another Round of Pitchers for me and my Friends
We’ll be here all Night Long, Till The End
Won’t End Up On The Steps Talking to a Girl so Fine
Won’t Buy her friends a Shot or a Bottle of Wine

[chorus]

Listen To It right now!:

And the original version recorded the night it was written:

“A new search engine! OMFG!!!!”

That seems to be the reaction that a lot of people have whenever a new search engine comes out. There’s a huge fuss about it; Digg, Slashdot, and eventually CNN and MSNBC pick up on it, and everyone holds the new engine up for inspection and dissection. Which is exactly what I’m about to do.

Cuil has received a lot of bad press. Almost everyone has the opinion that “It’s totally not Google.” I don’t think it was their intention to be Google, but to provide something different. Their main focus (at least for now) it seems to me, is to allow you to research something. If you want to find the address of Joes Barber Shop on Main Street, go use Google. If you need to learn about something that you have little knowledge of, use Cuil.

The Name is Stupid

You hear this a lot from people who are bashing Cuil. From the Cuil site:

“Cuil is an old Irish word for knowledge.”

I’m fine with that. In fact, I’m surprised that domain name wasn’t already taken and populated by one of those annoying domain sitters that just buys a domain and puts up random advertising links hoping you’ll click one. In this state of Internet affairs, if you can find a four letter domain name, and it happens to have actual meaning related to your intended business, good for you.

But how do I spell it? It’s pronounced ‘Cool’ but spelled ‘Cuil’.

Personally, since the first news story I saw about it I haven’t forgotten how to spell it. I didn’t have to Google for “new search engine spelled like cool” to find it. I just typed it in. Digg has two Gs, flickr is spelled wrong, yet these sites are doing fine.

Their Search Algorithm Sucks

This is another common complaint. Their search algorithms do provide some random failures, you don’t always gets the correct results, or any results at all, when you search for something that you know exists. You can always tweak the algorithm, and I’m sure they will. However, I think this lack of results might be in part intentional, or at least part of the plan; a way to differentiate themselves from Google.

“Lack of results is a feature?”

Yes. As part of my hypothesis that Cuil is meant for research about something that you know very little about I decided to research the “History of South Africa”. Deciding on a topic took a long time as I am quite knowledgeable on very many subjects. However, on a recent adventure I met a bartender from Cape Town, South Africa. I knew very little about South Africa apart from its geographic location (hint: It’s in Southern Africa, no need to jump over to Google Maps yet). This will be a perfect test for my comparison I decided.

First Search

I typed “History of South Africa” into both Cuil and Google. Cuil provided 129,408 results, Google provided “about” 15,700,000 results. Already the culling (Cuiling?) of the results is apparent. I wonder what could possibly be relevant to the History of South Africa on the fifteen-millionth Google result? To be fair, the one-hundred-twenty-nine-thousandth result is probably not much better, but the point about culling is still made I think.

The presentation is obviously different. Cuil uses a magazine-type layout, while Google uses their tried-and-true list of results, along with advertisements on the right. Both have similar results, with the Wikipedia article “History of South Africa” being near the top (top-middle column in Cuil, first result in Google).

However, the research-oriented approach of Cuil becomes apparent immediately. In the top right is a category suggestion box that lets you see some recommended categories. Are you looking for “Afrikaners”, “South African Politicians”, and more. Curious what an “Afrikaner” is I hovered over that. The category popped open with more search suggestions for Afrikaners like “Boer Republics” (some type of wild pig party association I’m assuming), “Voortrekkers”, and other creatively named items.

The point anyway, is that Google does not provide this. There really is no way for Google to suggest avenues of research about your topic. Maps of History of South Africa? Sure. The first result there is a map of the United States, the first pushpin being “University of South Florida – Center for Africa and Diaspora”, whatever. I had more luck with Google images, one provided a nice 1024 x 1220 map of South Africa. However, the utility of random images during a research task may be fairly low. I’d have to visit the sites that these images are coming from, it could very well be “Joe Shmoe’s PhotoShopped South Africa Map”. You can also search for news. Although in this context I don’t think there will be very much “News on the History of South Africa”

Conclusion

I’d better have a conclusion an a blog entry about research eh? I’m curious to see where Cuil ends up. When their initial investment cash dries up will the VCs be willing to invest more? We’ll see. Personally, I think it would be nice to have an alternative to the Google Monster, but getting a piece of that market share is like trying to eat away at Microsoft. I don’t hate Google by any means. I have a gMail account, I’ll keep using Google maps to get directions and spy on my neighbors, and for the time being I’ll probably keep Google as my home page. But if I need to find out more about Voortrekkers, I might head back to Cuil.

C
I can’t Sleep

F
In this bed

C
Wait for a woman

G
She’s in my head

C
Perfect soul

F
Wait for me

C
I will wait

G           C
For eternity

F               G        C
I am the lonely Man

——————

Restless nights

I toss and turn

Fans do nothin’

To ease the burden

my country girl

long brown hair

I’ll wait for you

If you still care

——————

[CHORUS]

F               G        C
I am the lonely man

F               G         C
I am the lonely man

F
I’ll wait for you

C
Wait for me if you can

G                        C
I am the lonely man

——————

I walk to the yard

And I look to the night

I can see you

Up in the sky

I still think of you

Every night

I still see you

In moonlight

——————

[CHORUS]

——————

F               G        C
I am the lonely Man

F               G        C
I am the lonely Man

1 Cup chopped peeled apple

3/4 Cup chopped onion

1/2 Cup chopped carrot

1/2 Cup chopped celery

1/2 Cup chopped green pepper

2 Tablespoons flour

1 Tablespoon curry powder

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper or cayennne pepper

1/3 Cup mango chutny (hot)

2  14 and 1/2 oz cans chicken broth

1/4 Cup tomato paste

Chopped parsley (optional)

Saute Chicken…remove

Saute veggies – add chicken and other ingredients.

Eat and enjoy!

But now I sit
Just me and a ciggarette
Makin’ love to the night
And I don’t know why

[chorus]
I’d [G] rather be with someone
who [C] makes me feel at peace
who’ll [G] grab me and hold me
And [C] tell me it’s ok
A [G] woman who’ll be there
When [C] I come home too late
And [D] I don’t want to fight
a[G]bout it anymore

I thought I found a friend
Lonely men always do
We search far and wide
Turn our hearts inside out for you

Can’t you see what I’m tryin’ to say
We howl at the moon
But we don’t mean it
We’d rather come home to you (and we do)

[chorus]

I got my first allergy
Somethin’ bad happened to me
I think it’s somethin’ you’ll understand

Makin’ dinner for one
Lord knows it ain’t no fun
Drinkin’ my beer all alone

[chorus]
[F] I never thought I’d [G] see
The [C] day where I would [Am] be
[F] I’m doin’ the best I [G] can
As a solitary [C] man

Footsteps sound so loud
When you’re the only one around
And the fridge just won’t quit

Thunderstorms are much less fun
When you’re the only one
Countin’ down the time

[chorus]

I got a garbage can
I got pots and pans
One of everything

I got a ceiling fan
for a solitary man
None of which I need

[chorus] (repeat last line)

This was taken with a D300, 1 shot per minute, from about 10AM to 3PM

One of the problems is that my PC can’t handle all the plugins at the same time.  For some reason, the bass (which is actually a guitar emulator) takes up HUGE amounts of resources.  What this boiled down to was that I could never listen to the song in the software, I had to mute some tracks to be able to listen to something, then unmute, render to MP3, and listen to the MP3 to see if the change I made sounded good.  Very annoying to say the least!

Link:
Eastern Wind MP3

Anyway, here’s the link:

SELECT CONVERT(nvarchar(20), GetDate(), 101);

or

SELECT CONVERT(nvarchar(20), CAST(’2008-04-04 16:07:07.920′ AS DateTime), 101);

If you need to use it in a comparison you can easily do something like

WHERE CONVERT(nvarchar(20), MyDateColumn, 101) BETWEEN @DateFrom AND @DateTo

Enjoy!

Unscrew the retaining ring (I think it only needs about a quarter turn), pull out the bulb and detach it from the wiring harness, replace with the new bulb, re-insert it back into the housing, and secure it in place with the retaining ring. Now you have to wiggle the light housing’s threaded rods (there are three) back into those tabs that you released to get it out. The threaded rods can be moved around to make this easier. When the housing is back in place, you’ll be able to see these little plastic things sticking out of the tabs, push back down on the tabs to lock the housing into place. Make sure that the housing it secure and doesn’t move around, if it does it means you didn’t get it back into place well enough. Replace the plastic plate on top and you’re done. The procedure for both headlights is essentially the same.

At first I was thinking to myself “This is so stupid and typical of newer cars.” But after I figured it out, it’s pretty easy to do. The second headlight only took me about 5 minutes.

Clinton’s current notion that Michigan voters will be disenfranchised if Obama doesn’t agree to a re-vote in Michigan is ridiculous. Its transparency is so blatantly obvious, how can anyone not see right through it?

• She didn’t seem very concerned with it back in New Hampshire. (Reference needed: Basically “I don’t see Michigan as making a difference”)
• Do you think she would be so concerned if she wasn’t in desperate need of those delegates?

Besides:

• Not every State has primaries anyway (Which ones?)
• It’s Michigan’s democratic party that screwed its own voters by moving the primary date.
• Allowing Michigan and Florida to re-vote or something similar is a typical Democrat reaction. They (Michigan and Florida) broke the rules, and so were penalized. Now we should let them re-vote because “It’s not fair”?

McCain

McCain had one of his “Senior Moments” as people call it. Making a misstep involving Iran, Al-Qaeda, and Shiite militants A lot of people say “Oh, that’s just McCain. He doesn’t get bogged down in the details.” I’m sorry, but I think this county has had enough of a president that can’t get facts straight, and who the entire country has to sit cringing during every public appearance. “Oh please don’t let him screw up again” we think collectively to ourselves.

Obama

The fallout over Obama’s pastor Jeremiah Wright still continues, although his speech on Tuesday does seem to have helped, and was seen by many as one of the best speeches made in a long time. However, many supporters of Obama and his pastor say that those types of comments made by Wright are just part of black culture, and black church culture in particular. If you haven’t been to a sermon then you just can’t understand. Why does this make it ok? Just because these types of comments happen inside the context of a church sermon it’s now acceptable? I don’t think so. The good news is that I believe Obama when he says that he doesn’t believe in that type of language either; I certainly hope so.

How to Build a SharePoint Development Machine:
Long list of steps and tools to getting a development SharePoint server up and running. This takes the approach that the develpoment tools should be kept local, and to use remote degugging:
http://weblogs.asp.net/erobillard/archive/2007/02/23/build-a-sharepoint-development-machine.aspx

How to create a MOSS 2007 VPC Image, the Whole 9 Yards:
20 steps detailing the entire process from start to finish:
How to Create a MOSS 2007 VPC Image: The Whole 9 Yards

Andrew Noon: SharePoint Web Parts:
Including remote debugging:
http://www.sharepointblogs.com/andynoon/archive/2006/06/20/sharepoint-2003-creating-web-parts.aspx

Custom Configuration (VB Version)

Enjoy!

First the tools that you WILL NOT need. I discovered this through my adventure:

• Pipe Cutter
• Dewalt cordless drill and bits
• Bench Vice (to hold the microphone while you attempt to drill it)

The tools you will need:

• Something to loosen the retainer clip (that’s what I call it). I’m sure there is an official tool that can into the little cutouts on the ring, but what I used was a pair of slip-joint pliers.

Your microphone should look like this (http://photo.killfly.com/displayimage.php?album=77&pos=0) if it does not, you do not have a Behringer B5, and these instructions will not be of much help to you. Also, the image of mine has a deep gouge on the XLR end. Yours will not have this because mine is actually in two pieces. The picture was taken after my first disassembly in which I cut off the end with a pipe cutter thinking that I needed to free up the screw at that end. It turns out that the screw that is under the decal near the XLR connector does not need to be removed. (I also attempted to drill out the screw in a fit of disassembly rage).

Take off the cardoid or omnidirectional capsule, whichever is on there, and you will be presented with something like the following: http://photo.killfly.com/displayimage.php?album=77&pos=1. See the threads that are now exposed? At the tip of the threads (also visible in the picture) you can see two cutouts. This is where you should probably use a special tool to get into those cutouts, and be able to unthread this ring. The ring is actually what’s holding the contents of the microphone into the case.

Unscrew the ring: http://photo.killfly.com/displayimage.php?album=77&pos=2 (I’m using my fingers in the picture, but in reality I had to loosen it with a pair of slip-joint pliers.) One thing to note, there are two holes in the top of the microphone that look like they’re custom made for being able to unscrew the tip. This is not what you’re looking to do, you want to actually unscrew the threads themselves.

The desired result is better explained by seeing all the pieces together in a picture (or two):

• http://photo.killfly.com/displayimage.php?album=77&pos=12
• http://photo.killfly.com/displayimage.php?album=77&pos=4

In this picture you can see the case, the ring, and the capsule in the top, and the guts of the microphone in the bottom of the picture. In order to remove the guts, you’ll have to push down on the attenuation selector switch to be able to get it past the cutout on the case. When you pull out the gut, it will come out on a sled. You want to pull it out straight, because there’s a key that the XLR connector preventing it from twisting. Both halves of the key are visible in these two shot

• http://photo.killfly.com/displayimage.php?album=77&pos=5
• http://photo.killfly.com/displayimage.php?album=77&pos=6

Now that you have the sled out, you can see the contents of the microphone. If, like me, you were hoping to see a wire that might be loose, and that you could fix, you will be sorely disappointed. But it’s still kinda neat. Feel free to check out all the pics over at the photo site: http://photo.killfly.com/thumbnails.php?album=77

Huevos Rancheros PDF File

Huevis Rancheros ZIP (contains original ODT file)

[Chorus]
Have a Guinness on me my friend,
Drink it fast or slow,
Finest stuff that’ll touch your lips,
This I know for sure
And if you’ve had quite a few
You’ll be bangiiinnnnn…[slow down then pause]
Doors down all around town
Jus’ ta have some more.

`

[Last Chorus]
Have a Guinness on me my friend,
Drink it fast or slow,
Finest stuff that’ll touch your lips,
This I know for sure
And if you’ve had quite a few
You’ll be bangin whores’
Doors down all around town
Just to have some more

CodeGen Logic in seperate assembly. This will make lots of things easier (for me), but most notably it will allow easy creation of other projects that use the ADAL library (like a web-based version).

Option to save password with project file. You shouldn’t be using a high-level account anyway!

Option to prefix “Item” object property names with a string if they are a member of the primary key. This makes knowing what field must be populated for an Insert easy.

I omitted the installer for now until I get the auto-update working right. Who wants to have to uninstall an application when it’s just an update.

Other stuff I can’t remember, it’s been a while since a release.

Download: http://sourceforge.net/projects/adal/

Here’s the link to what I think is a fixed version of the Coppermine 1.3 demo package, which I have called 1.3.1. Here’s what I did to fix, that way someone can tell me if it’ll cause any problems. It seems to work for me, but I’m not a coppermine expert…

• Start Demo 1.1
• Attach MySQL Administrator to the MySQL instance, and backup the coppermine database.
• Stop Demo 1.1
• Edit Demo1.3 ‘pms_config.ini’ file to not mirror database to local directory.
• Start Demo 1.3
• Attach MySQL Administrator to the MySQL instance, and restore the backup from 1.1.
• Stop the Demo1.3
• Zip up Demo 1.3 as 1.3.1

http://www.killfly.com/uploads/Technology/CoppermineLiveDemoFix/cpg_live-demo_1.3.2.zip

Assemble Your Ingredients:

• Olive Oil – You won’t need much.  For my single serving I think I probably used around four or  five tablespoons.
• Tomatos – You’ll be cutting them up (I used one for me)
• Garlic – However much you want.   I used three average-sized cloves for mine.
• Basil – Fresh or frozen.  You can see in the picture below how much frozen basil I used.  I suupppppose you could use dried too, just use your intuition as to how much to use.
• Chicken Broth – I used probably about a teaspoon of chicken boullion disolved into about a 1/4 cup of water.
• Your Favorite Pasta – I always recommend ziti!
• Some Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese to grate on the finished plate.
• Salt and Pepper

Water Heating and Preperation  

Get your pasta water heating up.  While you’re waiting for that to boil, you might as well start cutting up those tomato(s) and garlic:

Now would also be a good time to cut up your basil.  I didn’t go too crazy here, but you want to make sure there’s no really big pieces.  Hopefully around this time you water has begun to boil and you can add the pasta to the water.  The next steps don’t take very long, so your pasta should be ready just about when you need it.  Obviously this will have to be adjusted depending on how much pasta you’ll be cooking (and how much water needs to heat up to 210 degrees).

Start Cooking

Add the chicken broth and olive oil to a nice wide frying pan and set the heat for high, you’ll be adding your pasta to this pan later, so make sure you’ll have room.  This part is where you’ll have to use some judgement.  You want the final sauce to be reduced enough so that the end-product isn’t too watery, but you obviously want it to be able to coat the pasta too.  Speaking of pasta, have you checked it lately?  You also don’t want to cook the tomatoes too much, the’ll fall apart if you do.  You really just need to get them hot.  So once the Oil/Broth mixture looks close, and the pasta is nearly done,  add the tomatoes, garlic and basil.

Dump in the Cooked Pasta

Dump the cooked pasta into the pan with your other ingredients.  Salt and Pepper to taste.  Remember, the chicken broth probably has a lot of salt in it, so you might not even need any more salt.  Toss it around to get all those good flavors covering the pasta.

Plate it Up!

Dump the finished product onto your plate, and grate a little fresh cheese over the top. 

Enjoy!

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Introduction

This is the journal from my experience on the Betty Ann sailboat during a delivery from Annapolis, Maryland to Point Judith, Rhode Island.  This would be my first of many trips aboard this fine vessel.  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did living (and writing) it!

After reading (or during, whatever your preference), make sure to view the pictures of this trip over at photo.killfly.com!  There are also some pictures of a more recent southbound delivery, which are even geotagged, a new feature I was trying out.

Eventually, I’ll get my pictures of yet another northbound delivery, this one from Tampa, Florida to Charlestown, South Carolina.  We had a stopover in Key West, which was, obviously, one of the highlights of the trip.

So grab a glass of your favorite beverage, light a fire if it’s cold out, and prepare to go on an adventure with me and the crew of the Betty Ann…

Sunday, May 20th : 8:38 PM

Whew man, long day. Today started at 5:30am in Quonny, RI. I cautiously opened my eyes to reveal a day starting much darker than I’m used to. “What is this daylight savings?”, no, just dawn AM, or the butt crack of morning, whatever you want to call it. No one cares about this part of the trip so I’ll just get right to the point so we can get to the good stuff:

• Drive to George’s house
• Park dad’s truck and Gerry’s car at some logger’s log storage area (what else would be in a logger’s storage area?)
• All pile into George’s car with his wife Maime.
• Get to KPVD, and unload the bags. The frozen Italian Country Chicken dinner made it through the x-ray scanner ok. This was slightly surprising, we expected to be asked at least a couple questions about it.
• Dad got the full security scan because of his steel hip parts. “I’m sorry sir, but you’re going to have to leave your hip here, I can’t let it on the plane.”
• Land at BWI, and all pile in Eric’s explorer and head for the marina where the Betty Ann is waiting for us.
• We sat down for some breakfast and Archie joined us. His breakfast turned out to be the best, the Crème Brulee comes highly recommended.
• Say goodbye to Eric who looked like he really wanted to come with us.
• Shove off into the Chesapeake.

Ok, now we’re getting to some boat talk, after all that’s why you’re reading this right? Let’s back up a little bit to breakfast. We all watched in detached pleasure (pleasure because it wasn’t us) as a sailboat attempted to depart its slip only to realize that the turn was too tight, and they weren’t ready for the wind that was going to blow them down towards the pier wall. I bet the wish they had a bow thruster (we do, ha ha ha). After watching the mini-drama unfold we took our first crew-vote on what to do today. There were two options:

1. Leave tomorrow morning, and go visit the surrounding area.
2. Leave right now.

We all chose option 2, let’s go sail!

Our departure was decidedly better than the one we had witnessed just minutes ago. We had the wind in our favor and a bow thruster to help our bow across, but I still think we looked pretty sharp, especially for a crew that had just come together.  Gerry, who was tasked with getting our lines off the pier, almost didn’t make it back on the boat, but one quick leap from the edge of the finger pier landed him square on the boat’s deck. I think every landing/departure has to have at least a little drama associated with it.

We motor-sailed through the day, up the Chesapeake all the way to the beginning of the Chesapeake-Delaware Canal (CD Canal). The first thing you notice on the Chesapeake is the water; brown. I made a silent mental note to keep track of the water color and watch it turn from brown to blue, which is the color salt water should be in my opinion. The second thing you notice about the Chesapeake is how big it is. I’m sure this is the same feeling that sailors get the first time they venture out onto any of the Great Lakes.

Eric had told me weeks before that the average depth of the Chesapeake is four or five feet, or something like that. When you’re in a sailboat you can’t help but think about the keel underneath you, slicing through the water just waiting to hit something. However, after getting out into the larger part of the Chesapeake, most of those fears melted away; we had plenty of water. The fear-melting was accelerated by the pinpoint accuracy and information-laden GPS chart plotter we had on board (more about that later).

I was able to take a nice spate at the helm, and used that time to get the main functions of the GPS unit under my belt. I can now pretty quickly plot a new course, and get the autopilot to track towards it for me. Autopilot is cool, but I still prefer keeping my hand on the wheel. I think there’s no better way to learn, and remind you that you are in control of, the boat.

Because this waterway is trafficked by commercial vessels, it is heavily populated by one of my favorite navigational aids, the range light. I think there is absolutely no better way to stay on a straight line course then to keep two range lights on top of each other. For those who don’t know, a range light is two lights that you use to keep your vessel in a channel. One of the two lights is set in front of, and below the other. Using this simple setup you can see if you are drifting off course. Assuming that you’re driving towards the light, if the bottom light begins to move to the right you know that you are drifting left of the channel and need to adjust to the right.

We had planned on a stop at the Chesapeake marina, which is just inside the canal on the Chesapeake side. Archie called them on the radio and we were informed that they did indeed have space for our boat, but not until 9:00 that night. “Well, we’ll be by you by then.” said Archie, and we continued on deeper into the canal.

The canal itself isn’t all that exciting, you really feel like you’re just driving through a long breechway, which I guess you are in a way. After motoring around another few bends, we found another marina in the cruising guide that appeared to have depth enough for us. There was some brief confusion on the radio and in the cockpit about where exactly we should bring our boat in, I’ll try to recreate as much as I can remember here:

“Midway marina, Midway marina, this is the Betty Ann.” Archie said into the microphone.

“Betty Ann, this is the Midway Marina, go ahead.” the Marina replied.

“Yes, we’re fifty feet long. Fifteen and a half foot beam. We draw five and a half. Do you have anything available for us tonight?” Archie said.

“Roger captain we can accommodate you. Continue into the marina, you’ll see docks on your right, and some finger piers on your left. You can pull into the first finger pier you see.” the marina replied.

Meanwhile we are about a minute from the first set of docks, and the depth gauge is steadily dropping from the canal’s sixty feet towards our draw of five and a half.

“Did any of you understand what he said?” Archie asked the crew. In text the conversation on the radio is perfectly clear, but in real life it is often much more difficult due to static, other background conversations, and various other communication-inhibiting events.

“Hello, Midway Marina, can you repeat please?” Archie asked. The marina replied with essentially that same information, but worded slightly different.

“The first pier on the left?” Archie replied.”

“Yes sir captain, that is correct.” the marina replied.

This is where the main confusion aboard the ship commenced. A quick discussion between George and Archie went back and forth between whether we should pull into one of the slips at the entrance to the marina, or continue further up into the harbor.

The first slips were now just beginning to glide by on our port side, and the depth was very close to our keel (remember what I said about always thinking about the keel under the boat?). There were some red markers along the channel, but even with those on our starboard side we began to feel the muddy bottom tugging at the Betty Ann. Our speed slowed a knot or two, and Archie added some RPM to compensate.

“See those docks on the right up there? He wants us to take a slip across from those.” George said.

“No, I think he might want us to take a slip right here.” Archie replied, looking off to port at the empty slips sliding by. Another tug an the keel. More RPM. I can imagine his nervousness, his 48 foot Island Packet is slowly coming to a halt in the middle of the channel as the keel digs itself into mud. I’m sure the thought in his head was “What’s wrong with the slips right here?”

“Try coming left a little, towards the docks, I think the water’s deeper over there.” George said. Archie spun the wheel a little to the left, the depth improved slightly and the bottom released its grasp on the keel. We accelerated up the channel.

With our newfound depth we continued up the channel towards the transient docks. There were some good sized boats on both sides, so we knew that we should have enough water. It was low tide however, and a quick glance to the starboard side revealed a muddy beach reaching well out into the water towards the channel. We reached the transient docks and pulled left into the first pier next to them. With lines ready we prepared ourselves as Archie judiciously used spurts of bow thruster and rudder to spin the boat and back her into the slip. The deceleration sensation reappeared; the mud was again reaching up at us. However with some hard backing, tugs on lines, and some courage, we were able to get the Betty Ann into her slip. Success!

The slip itself was in fairly poor condition. They still had the winter water agitators lying around (these devices keep water in motion during the winter, helping to prevent freezeover), and the small-diameter blue nylon line to support the agitators was heavily coiled around many of the cleats that we now needed. It’s a funny irony that the mud actually helped us in this case. I needed at least thirty extra seconds to unwrap the pile of line on my cleat before I had enough to get my line around it. Had the slip been deep water, and the wind high, the landing could have had an entirely different outcome. In addition, one of the cleats on the dock which we were using for our stern line was barely attached to the dock!

Archie jumped off to go talk to the marina, pay for the night, and inquire about the location of showers. Perhaps the most important piece of information to the crew, apart from the location of beer, is the whereabouts of the closest shower. You never know when your next one might come.

The marina itself was pretty unique. It’s a long rectangular-shaped piece of water, with a small line of land to shelter it from the canal traffic, and a steep hill on the other side. Crawling up the hill is a series of long switchback ramps that Archie was now climbing to get to the office. We busied ourselves organizing lines and equipment while we waited for his return. A short amount of time later, he did return.

“Man, you had to climb those stairs all the way to the office?” Someone asked.

“Well, yes and no. I went up the stairs, and asked where the office is. They said the office is down. So I came back down.”

Quickly the important information of shower location was relayed and George and Gerry ventured off to go clean up. Dad and I prepared our shower equipment and waited for them to return with intelligence on the showers (I think it’s always a good strategy to go to the showers second, this way you can learn about any showers that you might not want to use…think cold water, dirty, no pressure, etc).

When George and Gerry returned they told us the exact location of the showers (up the switchback and look for the only lights up there). Gerry mentioned that their condition was “OK”. Dad and I disembarked and headed out towards the hill. At night, which it now was, the marina looked a lot better, there were lights lining the docks to guide you to and from your boat, and at night you couldn’t see the piles of blue nylon line everywhere. We continued up the lighted path and began our accent up the switchbacks towards the showers. I was wearing my flip-flops, and immediately remembered why I hate them. There’s something about that rope-type thing pressing into the webbing in between your toes that just drives me nuts. Plus they’re always threatening to fall off (usually because I’m trying to keep the rope-thing from pressing into my toe webbing). I just don’t like them at all. Not one bit.

Upon our arrival at the showers we realized that we had only brought one set of shower supplies. We quickly devised a plan, I received a single-use portion of shampoo in the cap of the shampoo bottle, and we would cut the bar of soap in half, Solomon style. It turns out that breaking a bar of soap in half without any tools is more difficult than it sounds. Dad tried slamming it into the edge of the deck, and the door, and only managed to put a dent into the bar. This was enough of a wound to the soap that we were able to tear it in half. I never would have guessed it, but soap is actually pretty strong stuff.

We finished out showers, called mom on the cellphone to check in, and walked back to the boat. Before getting on the boat I gave her a push to see if she had come free of the mud below. To my surprise the boat began to rock back and forth slightly. I was about to relay the good news to the rest of the crew when I realized that it was not the boat rocking, but the dock under my feet.

We made plans to leave early the next morning hoping that the tide would be high enough for us to leave.

Monday, May 21st – 5:00 AM
We awoke early in the morning to plenty of water under keel. We hastily readied the Betty Ann and shoved off towards the mouth of the harbor, and eventually the Delaware river. Rounding the corner into the canal I noticed a neat sign. Much like a highway amber-alert sign this had a pair of yellow lights and text that read “Lights flash when commercial traffic nearby” Thankfully it was not flashing when we came around to the east and back into the canal. Since it was still early morning, the lights along the canal were lit. Both dad and I had wanted to see these lights. We were both expecting something like the lights on a highway, or maybe even a ski trail. However these lights were more reminiscent of the lights lining a driveway. They would still let you see a vessel coming at you from the other side I suppose, but they were not what I was expecting at all. It didn’t matter anyway, we were heading into the sunrise, and the view of the rising run behind some of the bridges over the canal made for some beautiful pictures.

We tracked our progress down the canal against the charts, counting down the bridges and power lines remaining until we hit the Delaware river. Looking at the chart, the Delaware appears more treacherous than the Chesapeake. If you turn downriver too soon out of the canal you will run right into water that is only two to four feet deep. We motored well out into the river, found the range light upriver, and began cruising down.

As we went further downriver our speed continually increased until our speed over ground read 10.3 knots. The tide and river current were sweeping us downriver much faster than we had planned for. At this speed we would reach the river mouth just after noon. Along the way we had a few container ships pass us going up river. These ships are hundreds of feet long, and take a long time to stop and turn. Obviously we made sure to give them a wide berth as we passed.

There also had recently been a lot of rain in the area, so this translated into tons of wood, logs and various other floating objects in the river. At the helm I was constantly changing course to avoid running into these, the last thing I wanted was to hit something and take the chance of destroying our prop, rudder, or worse.

Further down the river, where it opens up and looks more like a large bay, Gerry popped up out of his seat and began taking great interest in one of the ships anchored in the area.

“I think that’s the Integrity.” he said. He related a story about the ship, and his daughter who used to be first mate on the ship. He switched the radio to channel 13, a common frequency on commercial vessels, and tried to hail the Integrity. He was eventually able to make contact with whatever radio operator was on watch. He relayed a short version of the story he told us to the Integrity. I couldn’t understand a lot of the conversation that occurred back and forth, but apparently the radio operator assured Gerry that the would relay his greeting to the ship’s captain. Afterwards, I took a few pictures of the ship and of Gerry with the ship behind him.

Since we had made such good time down the river, we now had another crew vote to make:

1. Stop at cape May for the night
2. Continue overnight and make New York harbor in the morning.

Again we all chose option 2. Sail! I like this crew.

Archie drew up the watch schedule for the night which looked like this:

I come on at 10 PM and take the wheel from Archie, Archie then moves to the lookout seat to help spot traffic and buoys. At midnight dad comes up to take the wheel from me, I move to the lookout seat, and Archie goes to bed. You keep rotating like this until the sun comes up, or in the case of an extended cruise, until you get to where you’re going. We were only going for tonight so this would suffice.

My first watch was at 12PM which was when were were just getting ready to make our turn to the north, around Cape May, and up the Delaware / New Jersey / New York coast. Both dad and I had been practicing sailing without the aid of autopilot. In this case it was actually better for sailing because we were sailing downwind, and our course was right on the edge of the jib’s ability to stay on the starboard side. Having a human brain making decisions about the boat’s direction helps out in this case. Even so, we ended up intentionally jibing the jib so we could sail a few degrees more to the north. In the end we ended up making our turn to the north a little sooner than we planned because we were tired of the jib constantly being a pain, and it would save us some time. We sailed towards an outer marker for a while until we had cleared the point off our port side, and then turned north to 060 degrees from 110 degrees, this would be our course until our next waypoint somewhere off New Jersey.

I sailed through my watch without much action. I continued to practice sailing without the autopilot, getting used to the boat and how she reacts to different conditions. For a while, I even tried steering based upon feeling and not sight. Once you get into the rhythm of the waves on your current course, you can do this fairly well. It’s good practice for when you might be distracted later on and need to instinctively know when to bring the wheel around to keep the boat on course. At 2PM dad came up and I moved to the watch seat. At 4PM I went down into my cabin to attempt a few hours of sleep before the night arrived, I wanted to be alert for my overnight watch.

The night at the marina in the canal I didn’t sleep very well. The air conditioning was turned on, and my cabin quickly became very cold. Since I only had a little blanket to use, I also quickly became very cold. Anyone who has read the Appalachian trail journal will be reminded of the same thing I was, my night at the base of Mount Washington with a blanket not large enough for the job. My night in the canal was very similar, and I woke up countless times throughout the night. Now at 4PM the next day, I laid down in my bunk and got a couple hours of half-sleep. The same kind you get on a beach where you still hear things going on around you, but you dream a little bit too.

I think it was around 6:30 PM when I came back up on deck. It was close to dinner time so dad and I broke out the Italian Country Chicken dinner that was now thawed out enough to make it out of the container it had traveled in. For those who don’t know, Italian Country Chicken is made from:

Chicken (obviously) – small pieces cooked in a frying pan with a little oil, and pepper.
Onions
Garlic
Artichoke Hearts
Italian roasted peppers
Your favorite pasta (I recommend ziti)

It’s a simple recipe, but tastes really good when you get it all together. This would be the first time we had tried freezing it though.

Cooking on a sailboat underway is always interesting. Archie helped us find a couple pans for the chicken-sauce and for the pasta water. Stoves on sailboats are on gimbles, so that when the boat heals over under sail, the stove stays level. It takes a lot of faith in the system though when you’re facing a pot of boiling water on a stove that from your perspective appears to be angled at fifteen degrees. We somehow managed to cook the ziti, and heat the chicken sauce so that it all came out at the same time. We passed the plates up to the cockpit and then sat down to eat. By this time we were directly off of Atlantic City, and the sun was beginning to set. We investigated the city with the binoculars and chowed down on chicken and bread. We saw a number of wind turbines, as well at the Taj Majal and other Atlantic City buildings. The Betty Ann quietly slipped past the city, and continued her journey northward.

After cleaning up in the galley I went up in the cockpit to get used to the night sky, and keep track of our position.  Gerry was going down below and asked if I wanted anything to drink.

“I’ll have a Coke if you can find one.” I replied.

After a while rummaging around in the fridge Gerry returned, “The only carbonated beverage we have is Sprite.”

I was really looking for caffeine in anticipation of my upcoming watch, but a Sprite would be good too.  Gerry passed the drink up and then sat on the other side of the cockpit next to me. I opened the Sprite and heard the plastic seal crack, but there was no hiss of escaping carbon dioxide gas. My first sip confirmed my suspicion; apparently we didn’t have any carbonated beverages on board. I didn’t have the heart to mention in, and it didn’t taste all that bad, so I just drank it the way it was.

At 10 I took the wheel, and Jerry went below to catch some sleep, he would have to be back up at 4AM for his next watch. The GPS display was still in daytime mode, and annoyingly bright. Archie had just been leaving the cover on, but I wanted to play with it a bit. I asked Archie how to dim the display (answer: multi button, then up/down), then began to play with one of the more advanced features of our GPS unit, something called MARPA. I’m not sure what MARPA stands for, but I think it’s probably something like Magnificently Awesome Ridiculously Powerful Astonishing feature.

MARPA allows you to set markers on radar targets so that you can track them, its origins in military technology are obvious. Essentially you move the display’s cursor on top of the target’s radar echo and select ‘Acquire Target’ from the menu. This begins the unit’s tracking of your target, which now has a box around it on the screen. A quick press of another button labeled ‘Show MARPA Info’ brings up additional information about your target:

Range
Bearing
Target Speed
Target Course
Closest Point of Approach
Time of Closest Point of Approach

I couldn’t help but repeat the Top Gun quote to myself: “I’ve got good tone! I’ve got good tone! I’m firing!” Unfortunately I couldn’t find the “Fire” button on our GPS.

To our starboard side was a tug pulling a barge that had been on the same course as us since we turned up from Cape May. I “put a MARPA on him” so that I could easily keep track of where he was. I referred to this many times throughout my watch to quickly see where he was in relation to us. I could then quickly turn my head in that direction to get visual confirmation of his position.

At 12 AM dad came up to relieve me at the wheel, and Archie went below to go to sleep. I mentioned our course (018 degrees), the current configuration of the GPS unit, and our current position to dad as he came over to relieve me. After he was up to speed I unhooked my life vest’s snap ring from the boat, and moved out of the way so he could attach himself.

The moon was out, and there were bright lights on shore, so I showed dad how to brighten the GPS unit’s display with the Multi button (we never did find out what other purposes the ‘multi’ button had). Later after I had gone to bed it would again become dark and he would forget how to dim the display. “I was sure it was the ‘display’ button”, he would relate to me, “I tried it twice I was so sure.”

Dad wanted something crunchy so I went below to find something to munch on. I found a box of Wheat Thins and brought those back up. Even though Archie had earlier brought me an apple and some chocolate, the Wheat Thins proved too appetizing and we were soon both digging handfuls of them out of the box. For me at least, it helped to drive away tiredness. I guess if you’re sitting there chewing on a crunchy chip, your brain needs to stay awake.

Somewhere off the Jersey coast we noticed two bright lights up ahead. They appeared to be on a reciprocal course to our own (opposite to ours, 198 degrees). At night it is even more important to take action early, so on dad’s request I grabbed the glasses (binoculars) and inspected the lights up ahead. What I saw was like no other ship I had ever seen. It looked like some overgrown white spider, floating around the ocean. I also thought I saw them pick something up over the side.

Dad asked what they were, “Well, it’s either some sort of wacky fishing boat, or an alien spacecraft over there”, I said pointing to the white object up ahead. Spacecraft or not, we would need to get out of its way, so we adjusted our course to the east a bit so that we would miss the closest of the two vessels. Another peculiar thing about the ships is that they weren’t showing any lights to indicate that they were fishing (squid was our guess because of the bright white lights surrounding the entire ship).

In order to pass the time, dad told me about a dream he had been having right before he came up on watch. In his dream I asked him “How do you see the logs in the water at night?”. Of course, there is no way to do this without an absurdly bright light on the top of your mast. I’m sure this dream was in response to my concern earlier that day about the wood and logs in the Delaware river.

At 2AM George came up to take the wheel. It was finally time for me to go to bed. I had been counting down the minutes until this time. I hadn’t had much sleep lately and desperately needed some. I left instructions to be awoken at 4AM, which was our expected arrival time at the entrance to NY harbor.

Tuesday, May 22nd – 4 AM
I awoke to the sound of dad’s voice, “Hey, sunrise over NY harbor?”

“Mmmmnnnm blababbhbab.” I mumbled.

“Well here’s the ‘bug blanket’” The bug blanket was a blanket intended for use to keep bugs out of the boat when off New Jersey. We didn’t hit them this trip, but both George and Archie told of times where, somewhere off New Jersey, the boat would suddenly be covered in flies. Sometimes little black flies, sometimes house flies.

I grabbed the blanket, a nice soft fleece thing and replied “I guess I could sleep a bit longah.”

Even after having only a few hours sleep I was still good for an improvised Monty Python joke. I drifted of to sleep again, the last thing I heard was dad joking about trying unsuccessfully to get another ‘sun to rise’.

I slept for another hour until 5 when the smell of brewing coffee stirred me. I wanted to sleep more, but I told myself that this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I wanted to join the ranks of few who sailed into New York harbor with the sun rising at their back, and gaze at Lady Liberty as we glide by.

I poured myself a cup of joe, black, and went up on deck. Maybe it was the excitement of coming into port after a long sail, but I felt surprisingly awake for the amount of sleep I’d had in the past 48 hours. There was some joke that I had missed from the early morning hours, because Archie grabbed the empty Wheat Thins box and called out to George “Hey George, give Gerry his empty Wheat Thin box! Ha ha ha ha.”

We motored up the river, laughing at the poor commuters on their way into work. It’s times like this that you start to think to yourself, “Boy, wouldn’t it be sweet if this was my job? Sailing around on a boat?” Conversation dropped to a trickle as we all admired the beauty of the city’s skyline on our way in. Under the bridge and around the corner the Statue of Liberty appeared. I ran down to get my camera (I did this run a lot on this trip). It’s one of those pictures that you know has been taken millions of times already, but you just can’t help yourself. On Gerry’s request, I snapped on picture as one of the orange NY Transit ferrys passed between us and the Statue.

“See if you can make her a passenger on the ferry Andrew.” said Gerry.

I set up and snapped a shot as the ferry went by. Thanks to the miracle of digital photography I was able to review the picture right away. There she was, standing on the front deck of the ferry. Thanks Gerry, that’s a pretty cool shot, and one that I’m sure hasn’t been taken millions of times.

We made our way up the Hudson, posing for pictures in front of the Manhattan skyline until we turned left into the Liberty marina on the New Jersey side. A brief discussion with the marina revealed our final berth on pier E. We motored down, turned left, and backed her into her new stall without incident.

Shore leave!

We didn’t even bother with showers, we all wanted to go see New York, the 9-11 memorial, and drink beer.  Gerry secured some info on the water taxis that run between the New Jersey side and New York side every thirty minutes. For five bucks you can get a ride to one of three locations, what a deal! You’d pay that much in tolls, never mind the amount of time it would take to drive.

George, Gerry, dad and I walked over to the taxi loading dock. There was a water taxi there, almost ready to leave.  Gerry wanted to take that boat, but George and I needed to use the head (bathroom) on the lightship next to the taxi loading dock. I had been holding this particular need at bay since I woke up. One of the rules on a boat is you don’t use the on board head for #2 if you don’t have to. There are two versions of this story from here.  Gerry maintains that we didn’t want to ride on the ferry with him out of fear that we would get beat up for associating with someone wearing a Red Sox hat (Gerry). We maintain that he just really wanted to get to the other side and didn’t want to wait. We settled on the plan that we would take the next ferry, and meet him on the other side. I think we were all pretty sure that we would not be able to find him among the millions of people in New York.

George and I ran to the lightship (an old ship that used to be stationed at the entrance to the harbor and acted as a floating lighthouse) and occupied the two stalls inside. When I went to wash my hands I made the mistake of looking into the mirror. Wow, what a scrubby looking dude! Even though I had a short buzzcut, my hair was still all messed up and greasy. This look might work on Block Island, but I was pretty sure the chicks in New York wouldn’t go for it. I decided that a quick wash with water and soap from the sink would fix the problem. One of the advantages to a short buzz cut is you can do things like this. After wetting down my head with a few handfuls of water, I reached over to the soap dispenser only to find that there was none. “Oh well, at least I got it wet, it’ll have to do” I said to myself. Of course there were no paper towels either, so I squeegeed out as much water as I could with my hands, used my jeans to dry my hands, and went back outside. It was a sunny and bright day, so I wasn’t worried about being a little wet.

We stepped off the ferry-taxi, or whatever you want to call it, and looked for Gerry. He wasn’t anywhere nearby so we headed off to look for something he described as ‘a big green atrium’ thing that you could see the 9-11 site from. We couldn’t see anything from where we were (I later noticed that we would have been able to see it from the water-taxi), so George went to ask an information booth where the 9-11 memorial was. Armed with a destination we headed off in that direction, which was sadly away from the ‘big green atrium thing’ where Gerry was waiting for us.

We walked around the 9-11 site, which for the most part now really resembles a construction site, just a really massive one. The fence along most of the route isn’t really conducive to viewing, there’s chain link fence, with another green mesh nylon fabric that prevents any really good views, and certainly any good camera shots. It didn’t matter anyway, I had left my camera on the boat. I was anticipating a barhop and didn’t want to drag that around, or risk losing it.

At the back side of the site (back side from the water) the actual memorial sits with pictures from the day, and a long list of names.

We continued on around the site, and ended up back near our original location, and consequently standing right in front of the ‘big green atrium thing’. We took a walk around inside, but were unable to find Gerry; by this time he was off on an adventure of his own. There was an ATM inside the atrium, so I loaded up on cash (I was still expecting a barhop), then went back outside and continued our search for Gerry. There was an outside restaurant, which I remarked to my dad and George was serving beer, and which my dad remarked might be a good place to sit and wait for Gerry. We passed it by however, and ended up back in the water-taxi en route to Liberty marina and the Betty Ann. There would be no bar for me tonight.

Back on the boat we cracked a few beers, threw in the sailing CD I had brought with me, and lounged in the sun. We occasionally looked up towards the gate at the top of the gangway to see if Gerry might be there, needing to be let in (the gates are locked my magnetic keycard). It was still too early though, we didn’t expect him back until much closer to the time of the last water taxi.

Dinnertime came around and dad, Archie and I went off to the restaurant nearby to get some dinner. I had eaten a sandwich a few hours ago, but the lure of a restaurant meal was too strong to overcome. Upon entering I realized that I was way under dressed for the the atmosphere. This place expected casual to formal, I was in a hoodie sweatshirt and running pants. As we sat down I heard someone remark behind us, “Well, that’s sailors for you.” Yeah, you’re right, we are sailors and proud of it.

One of the specials on the menu was a ribeye steak. We all ordered that, and just that. No salad please, just three steaks, all medium rare, two gin and tonics, and a corona. The steaks came, and were really good. Then the bill came, and we remembered that good steak is usually followed by a large bill. After tip I think it came to around $175. We settled up, content with our full bellies of beef, and walked back to the boat.

Somewhere around 8:00 we were surprised to see Gerry walking down the dock towards us. He was smiling. We’re not sure how he got in, I suppose he must have met someone coming out of the gate by chance. He related to us the quick version of his adventure. A few martinis, a walk around Battery park, a few martinis, talking his way into a “Running with the Bulls” road race tee shirt, and meeting someone in a bar (whose wife was running in the race). This new acquaintance said he’d be able to take a picture of our boat from the 59th Street bridge the next morning. We all shared a round of rum and cokes, and watched as the setting sun painted the New York skyline various shades of blue, yellow and red. A while after sunset we all began to get ready for bed.

I retreated to my bunk, planning to write in my journal for a while. However, Archie had a legal story about a couple named Bobo and Vivian that he wanted Gerry to read. To Archie’s surprise, Gerry began to read the story aloud, and soon was laughing nearly too much to continue reading. Additionally, at the end of every paragraph Gerry would call over to George who was in his sleeping bag trying to get to sleep.

“George? Are you with me?” Gerry would ask.

“Mmmmm” would come the faint reply from the sleeping bag.

“Ok, we don’t want you going to sleep on us now.”

Another paragraph read.

“George, are you still with me?”

“Mmmmmm.”

This continued for at least a half an hour, and soon became much to entertaining to ignore. I put down my journal and listened to the story of Bobo, Vivian, and the stolen motor home unfold.

Wednesday, May 23rd
The tides in and around the Hudson and East river are notoriously tricky. We slept in a little today because we knew that we couldn’t leave until around 10:00 anyway, and we could all use a little catch-up sleep after the overnight sail the day before. We had to time our departure so that we would hit Hell’s Gate at the right time. Hell’s Gate is a spot where the East and Harlem rivers come together. Taken together with a strong tide, the currents at this location can be tricky at best, and dangerous at worst. Add in the presence of barges and other commercial traffic in the river with you, and this spot can become exciting very quick.

Around 10:00AM we pulled in our lines and made our way out towards the Hudson river. We were greeted by a police boat telling us to turn around. We initially figured that they must be looking for Gerry, some untold portion of his story from the night before. Thankfully it was something much more benign, there was a Naval parade coming up the river, and we were not to cross in front of it.

“Everybody knew about it.” the police officer yelled. Well, I’m not too sure about that. Apparently neither the marina, or anyone who we talked to about our departure, knew anything about a parade. Archie spun the Betty Ann around and pointed her back to slip we had left just minutes before. We pulled out all the lines we had just stowed, and set them up to ready ourselves.

I was on the stern line, and as Archie rotated the boat in front of the slip I jumped off to the dock to get the stern line back to the cleat in the rear of the slip. As the boat was backing in George called out for me to fend off. I looked to my right and saw that the beam of the boat was going to hit the corner of the dock. I leaned into the boat to try to keep her off the dock but was unable to overcome the inertia of the heavy boat. I called out “A little help!” to no one in particular, just anyone who would listen. The beam ended up hitting the dock and rubbing for a bit. It’s one of those communication breakdowns that happens in the blink of an eye, but that you kick yourself for later. You always want every landing to be perfect, and letting the boat hit the dock on the way in is not the way to do it.

After we secured the lines, we ran off to the end of the nearby park to watch the naval parade. It was pretty neat and included an AGEIS cruiser, helicopter aircraft carrier, some other type of cruiser, as well as a couple fire boats and flybys by an AWACS, C-130, and fighters that I think were F-16s. I took a bunch of pictures, wishing I had brought my zoom lens. While the parade was neat, I think we were all thinking more about Hell’s Gate and the tides more than anything else. After the last ship had gone by upriver, we made our way back to the Betty Ann.

The parade was a two part affair. The ships would go up the river, turn around, and then come back. This meant there was a window where we might be able to get across the river, if given permission. Dad got on the radio and attempted to hail the police boat at the mouth of Liberty Marina.

“Police boat at the entrance to Liberty Marina, this is the Betty Ann, over.” No reply.

“Police boat at the entrance to Liberty Marina, this is the Betty Ann, over.” Again no reply from the police boat.

“Betty Ann, this is the Coast Guard cutter Chinook.” The cutter replied, trumping the State police boat who hadn’t responded.

“Yes, we’re wondering if we have time to make it across to the East river, we’re currently docked at Liberty Marina.” Dad sent across to the cutter.

“Betty Ann, what is your maximum speed ?” The Coast Guard voice responded.

“Seven knots.” I suggested for an answer, this is pretty close to our cruising speed. Dad relayed this to the Coast Guard cutter and awaited a response.

“Betty Ann, sorry but your speed is not sufficient, there is a Naval escort underway in the Hudson river.” The cutter replied.

“Shoulda said faster.” Archie said.

By one o’clock the parade was over, and were were able to head back out into the Hudson, and begin up the East river.

The tide was still with us, and we pushed 9+ knots the whole way up. Archie took the helm the whole way through, and dad and George followed along with the chart, keeping track of our position and calling out the buoys as they passed. It’s a strange sensation motoring a sailboat through a city. We had Manhattan on our port, and Brooklyn on our right. We soon made a turn and Rikers was on our right, as well as a big blue barge on our left. George said that he thought this was a prison barge, to handle the overflow from Rikers I suppose. We also passed a replica of the Niña, which was closer to 30 feet instead of the original 70.

We continued to pick our way through the buoys until we made it into the beginning of Long Island Sound. It was around this time that the wind started to pick up. We brought out the jib and main and were soon sailing along at around 8 knots, with the aid of the engine. Dad and I were up on deck at the time, and everyone else was down below. We had both been eying the third staysail that had remained furled the entire trip. Dad asked Archie if we could bring it out and Archie agreed. The staysail operates a little differently from the main jib. There is an outhaul and an inhaul that are both operated from the same winch, and a sheet that looks more like a downhaul. We wrapped the outhaul around the port side small winch and began to crank. The staysail came out easy, and we were soon flying three sails, something I had never done before. The wind had built to sufficient strength that Archie killed the engine and we sailed at seven knots with sail power alone.

Throughout the day the wind continued to build, and we made good time towards Port Jefferson. We each took turns at the wheel and soon a competition emerged as to who could get the highest speed at the helm.  Gerry was the first to hit 9 knots, and George bested him by getting 9.1 knots at his next turn on the wheel. I took the wheel for the last four miles to Port Jefferson and I’m proud to say that I was able to reach 9.4 knots on a set of particularly strong wind gusts to around 19 knots. The only problem was that the boat was getting an enormous amount of weather helm (when the boat wants to turn into the wind), and at times I had the wheel hard over just to keep her on course. A sail adjustment helped some, and I think if we had eased the main and jib some more the problem would have been eliminated. Our only other option was to reef the sails, but neither of us wanted to do that just yet.

Around 7:30 PM we dropped our sails and motored into Port Jefferson harbor. We wanted to go int the town and have a look around so Archie called the launch service on the radio.

“Port Jefferson launch service. Port Jefferson launch service. This is the Betty Ann, over.” Archie called into the microphone.

“Betty Ann, this is the Port Jefferson launch service, go ahead.” The reply came back.

“Yes, ahm, what time is the last launch?” Archie asked.

“We run until eight o’clock.”

A few seconds of silence ensued while Archie looked at the clock which now read close to 8:00.

“Is there another launch service?” Archie asked. Again my Monty Python and The Holy Grail script popped into my head, I couldn’t help but think of King Arthur asking ‘is there somebody else up there that we can talk to?’.

Denied our shore leave, we resigned to a night on a mooring. For the last hour there had been a lasagna that Archie had put into the oven cooking away and sending up tantalizing odors that sent my stomach rumbling. We were all hungry so after securing the boat we quickly set up in the cockpit for a fabulous dinner of lasagna and toasted garlic bread. I was so hungry that I went for seconds, had three pieces of toast, then ate the morsels leftover in the lasagna pan. For desert Archie brought out fresh cut melon and chocolate. I ate quite a few of these, and washed it all down with the remains of my Yuengling beer. For this display of self-gorging, I was given the appropriate nickname of “Dispose-All” by Gerry. Of course anyone who knows me knows that in normal life I tend to eat small portions, but in normal life I’m not living on a boat. I don’t know what it is, but being on a boat always gives me an appetite.

Soon after sunset we all went to bed. I wrote as much as I could in my journal, and then drifted off to dreams of that day’s sail. It’s days like this one that irreversibly addict you to sailing and its way of life. It’s the ultimate freedom, and an equalizer between you and the Earth. It gives you such a great respect for nature, and for the good fortune of being there to enjoy it.

Thursday, May 24th – 5:00 AM
We rose early again today to catch the tides down Long Island Sound in an attempt to get through Race Rock in New London before the outgoing tide changed to incoming. We cast off the mooring lines and headed out of Port Jefferson at twilight. There was very little wind, so we motored most of the way down the Sound. With the benefit of the tide we were again moving along at around 9 knots.

Today would be our last day on the water, and the first day that we would be in home water. It’s always a nice feeling when you get to your home waters. You know where you are, you can put away the charts for the most part, and you can relax in your knowledge of the area and take in the sights. I took the opportunity to savor the feeling of being on a boat, moving through the water towards a destination. One of my favorite parts about boating, and sailing in particular, has always been the journey.

Our GPS showed the tide changing at Race Rock at 11:20, we made it through by around 11:40 but I think we still had tide with us. It certainly felt like we were being pulled through, and the difference between the boat’s course over ground, and our compass course was enough to prove it. Shortly after lunch Gerry asked me if I wanted an English Muffin – Fig Newton sandwich. I replied that there were certain things that even Dispose-All wouldn’t eat.

By 2:00 we were inside Point Judith, and coming in to the fuel dock. There were two young girls waiting to take our lines. I passed our bow line to one of the waiting girls who used it to slow the boat down. Satisfied that she knew what she was doing I went about getting the fenders placed to keep us off the dock. She tied the line to the cleat on the dock about midship. The bow began to drift away from the dock so I ran up to pass one of the fuel dock’s lines to dad. I threw the first one I saw which it turned out was way too short. He was able to get it to the cleat, but it wasn’t ever going to make it around the cleat. I found a second line that was much longer and threw it over his shoulder. He was able to get it tied off and the bow stabilized. After we tied up she remarked that this was actually her first day on the job. That must be a little stressful, first day and your tying up 40 to 50 foot boats.

We filled up with 101 gallons of fuel, pumped out what was in our holding tanks, and then brought the Betty Ann back over to her home slip.

“Am I clear?” Archie asked.

“No, you’re not clear. More to port.” I replied, motioning with my arm which way we needed to move. Archie rotated the boat more and aligned the stern with the waiting slip. As we backed in I jumped off and observed our final movement into the slip.

“Watch the beam.” We backed her up slowly. “How far back?”

“So you can jump off onto the dock” Archie replied.

We gave the Betty Ann a good wash down, and unloaded all our bags and gear. This is always a tough part of a cruise like this. You’re glad to be home, but you don’t want to leave what has been your home for the past week. And not only has it been a place to live, it has carried you across seas, winds, currents and open ocean. In the end you have to leave the boat behind, and wait to sail another day.

The install went ok (it creates a virtual directory for you, and copies the files to your inetpub folder). However, when I opened the site in Visual Studio 2005 it was prompted with the conversion utility to upgrade it to the new 2005 format. “No problem” I thought, go for it. I navigated to the IIS directory (using the Visual Studio IIS browser in the conversion utility) and clicked ok.

I was letting it run and glanced down at the status bar to see files names from a lot of my other projects flying by. “Oh crap!”, said to myself…actually that wasn’t exactly what I said. I clicked cancel, which didn’t work. I guess they didn’t use enough application.doevents in their code.

Long story short, a lot of my applications that used to be stored in my inetpub folder are now hosed. Thankfully all the real project are under source control so I just have to pull fresh copies out, but a lot of little test projects are now broken.

Maybe I have something unique about my environment which caused it to attempt to convert my entire inetpub folder, or maybe I fat-fingered the “open from IIS application” browser and selected the IIS root. Whatever it was it’s a very good reminder lesson that:

• Conversion utilities are dangerous things
• Source Control is awesome
• Backup procedures are critical

Now I’m off to try and salvage as many applications as I can……

-Andrew

ADAL Version 1.0.7 was released today. Additions and fixes are included are:

- Fixed bug in PopulateFromReader that caused an error when calling the SELECT method of DAL objects. The call to PopulateFromReader was not inside a Do While Reader.Read.

- Supports SQL Server IMAGE and MONEY datatypes. Image is mapped to a Byte array on the .NET side.

- Added detection of IsNullable and IsComputed when building the DAL.

- IsComputed detection is used to fix the bug that resulted when ADAL tried to update computed columns. Also, the ClassItem object’s property is set to read-only on a computed column. So there is never even the illusion that the end user could try to update that column themselves.

- IsNullable is used to reduce the amount of code generated in the .NET Insert and Update methods.

- We added screenshots to the SourceForge website too!

Download?

I spent a lot of time trying to find a solution to this, and never really found a perfect one. The method I describe here is the best solution I could find at the moment.

Firts add a PlaceHolder Control, right before the end form tag. We’ll use this to write the <SCRIPT> tag so that it appears almost at the end of the document:

<asp:PlaceHolder ID=”plhJavaScript” runat=”server”></asp:PlaceHolder>

Then you can modify the master page’s Page_Load event to create a generic control, which will end up as the <SCRIPT> tag that is our goal. Once you have it, all you have to do is add it to the placeholder:

‘create generic html control

Dim JS As New HtmlControls.HtmlGenericControl(“script”)

JS.Attributes.Add(“type”, “text/javascript”)

JS.Attributes.Add(“src”, HttpContext.Current.Request.ApplicationPath & “/js/MyJavascriptFile.js”)

plhJavaScript.Controls.Add(JS)

That’s pretty much it. I think the code above might need tweaking to get the path always perfect if you’re down in a sub-directory, but you get the point.

Options:  Download now, or read and then download at the bottom.

 ADAL 1.0.6 has been released.  There is a new feature in this release for anyone doing their own extensions, PopulateFromReader!  Basically this method that is available on every Item that ADAL creates will accept a SQLDataReader and auto populate the properties of the object for you.  Yes, that’s right, no more:

 IIF(MyReader(“ColumnName”) Is DBNull.Value, Nothing, MyReader(“ColumnName”))

Now isn’t that nifty?  This allows you to create an extension in a Partial class without too much worry.  Just make sure that the reader has all the fields the object will need or you’ll see a yellow screen of death.

 The code that ADAL creates for a Select Now looks something like:

Public Function [Select](ByVal ColumnName As String) As Classes.TableItem
Dim retObject As New Classes.TableItemTry

Dim MyReader As SqlDataReader
MyCommand.CommandText = “ADAL_usp_TableItem_Select”

With MyCommand.Parameters
.Clear()
.Add(“@ColumnName”, SqlDbType.VARCHAR, 2).value = ColumnName
End With

SqlConnection1.Open()
MyReader = MyCommand.ExecuteReader(CommandBehavior.CloseConnection)retObject.PopulateFromReader(MyReader)
MyReader.Close()Catch ex As Exception
Throw
Finally

If SqlConnection1.State = ConnectionState.Open Then SqlConnection1.Close()
End Try

Return retObject
End Function

The new PopulateFromReader is in bold. 

There’s also a bug fix in this version.  When ADAL was creating code to check for the length of strings during Property Sets if failed to check if the value was not nothing, and ended up causing an exception if it was (it was just using If MyString.Length > 0 Then).

Maybe you want to head on over to SourceForge and give it a Download?

Having seen too many Simpsons and Family Guy episodes, we have a sense of humor and started imagining all the different plans for thr future he must have, like

• Caprio IV – A deep space probe to broadcast his message to potential voters in the Galaxy.
• Martians For Caprio!
• 2008! Caprio for President of the Moon!

We also noticed that his CaprioTV website has a “Thank you” movie in it with an interesting choice of music. It sounds like the end to the Lord of the Rings or something. Way to epic for a “thank you for electing me treasurer” webcast movie. Soooooo….we then thought how funny it would be to make a parody of the movie using the ideas mentioned above. On the drive home I started thinking what the soundtrack might sound like.

This is the first draft of what I wrote when I got home. This is also a test of a cool new embedded MP3 player that works right inside of WordPress. Click the little blue “play” icon to play the mp3, or right-click the link and choose “save as” if you really want to save this MP3 (not sure why you would).

– Frank Caprio World Domination.mp3

• Uses an .msi installer
• Has “File Save” and “File Open” commands that write the current configuration to a custom XML file so you can reload the settings you had last.

There’s also a quick bug fix. When a table is all primary keys, ADAL used to generate a “GRANT EXECUTE ON” for the UPDATE stored procedure, even though it didn’t generate the CREATE statement for the update, so it generated a SQL error when you ran the SQL script. This has been fixed.

Plans for the future are:

• Templating – Develop a templating system so that users can create their own VB code templates that ADAL should generate around. this will be quite hard to get right, so I wouldn’t expect it too soon.
• Use embedded (but still paramaterized) SQL. This would remove the need to create the stored procedures, which can be nice to keep the use of ADAL fairly simple.
• Take a look at Paul Kimmel’s Ideas about a Data Acces Layer and see how much of that can be used in ADAL (http://www.developer.com/net/vb/article.php/3650241)

Don’t be afraid to use the SourceSorge forum and feature request system either…

 Have fun!

What is it?  35 seconds of a bass and organ playing together.  It’s yet another “proof of concept” song that is completely useless.

Here’s the file (now in mp3 format instead of ogg):

————————————————————-

::FileDeleted::

After listening to it again I decided that this sucked too much to waste space on my hosting plan for it.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

———————————————————–

Enjoy! – Penny Stop Motion Movie.

Wood Pile

If you can belive it, this one’s even better!  Time-Lapse of my  dad and I at the wood splitter for a couple hours:
Wood Pile Time Lapse Movie

• Whole Milk – Enough to cover bottom of pan.
• Butter – Around 3 Tbsp
• Cream Cheese – a couple good knife-fulls
• Pecorino Romano and Asiago Cheese (this is just what I had, but you definitely want at least one of these cheeses. Go by what you like in terms of the strength of flavour).
• Ground Cayenne Pepper – a dusting. Again, season to taste. I like the pepper to be just in the background, not so heavy that you notice it too much.
• Black Pepper – A grind or two.

Assemble your ingredients

Here’s all the main ingredients for the sauce. Not pictured is the pepper grinder, wups. Also notice that I don’t add any salt, the cheese has enough already.

Add enough milk to a saucepan to cover the bottom, set to low heat and add the butter to get it melting. You should get your pasta water heating up too.

While that’s melting and heating up, grate a bunch of cheese. Keep an eye on the milk so it doesn’t get too hot and boil. Give it a stir every once in a while.

And then add your grated cheese and cream cheese to the pan. You should probably add your pasta to the now-boiling pasta water around this time.

After the cheese has melted, you can add some spices. I actually added too much cayenne here. It wasn’t bad, just too “up front” in the flavor for this particular meal (another pasta meal I make I really load up on it). Probably half as much as is pictured would have been perfect.

If your sauce is getting too thick you can add milk to thin it back out again. Conversely if it’s too thin you can just cook it a little longer until it thickens up. When it cools from boiling it will thicken a little too, so keep that in mind.

Right before your pasta is done, add whatever else you want to the sauce. In this case I have chosen tomatoes and chicken (the chicken was previously slow-boiled in bay leaves, rosemary, thyme, tarragon, black pepper, and garlic cloves).

I like my pasta hot, so I always have (or try to have) everything ready to go before the pasta is finished cooking. Below is the final plated meal.

This is a really easy meal, it’s quick, and it’s easy to clean up. Best of all, it tastes really good too! Even my mom said it was “awesome”.

You can see all the pictures from this post (and a lot of other cool pictures) in one place.

Now With Options!

• Options menu item opens options form!
• Change root namespace (defaults to ADAL)
• Put the item classes and DAL classes in the same or separate namespaces (Defaults to “Classes” and “DAL”)
• Customizable stored procedure prefix. This allows you to easily identify which stored procedures belong to the ADAL objects (in case you need to delete either the ADAL or your own it’ll help prevent what I did when I deleted a few custom stored procedures because they all looked the same).
• Option to generate “GRANT EXECUTE” statements on the stored procedures created. No more “Execute permission denied” errors!
• Option to include validation code on varchar property gets and sets for length. ADAL throws an exception if you enable this and you try to set an items property with a value that’s too long.

Still With Problems

• There are still data types (like tinyint that ADAL doesn’t know what to do with). I’ll get to those eventually….

Download: ADAL Version 0.3 

CMS Search
I also checked out some CMS packages yesterday and think the one that looks the best so far is CMS Made Simple It has a nice simple interface that allows me to add new categories, and pages under the categories. It offers links between pages, but does not keep track of what pages are linked to what. So it allows me to delete a page that is being linked to from another, that’s the only part I don’t like so far…

For a free demo of CMS Made Simple, check out http://opensourcecms.com/index.php?option=content&task=view&id=452

I’ll keep looking on http://opensourcecms.com/ for a CMS, but so far this one’s out front.

1. Get a CVS source control solution that works with Visual Studio I believe this will consist of either a local cvs server, or sourceforge projects (and their cvs server). Hopefully I’ll get something like http://www.jalindi.com/igloo/ to work so I can connect Visual Studio to cvs and feel like I’m working with VSS.
2. Finish varnishing my boat’s wood pieces. Also maybe fill the inner cabin with epoxy / filler to make it look nice inside, then I can paint it too.
3. Change the oil in my truck.
4. Delete this crappy linux OS.

I was starting to feel bad for the guys I was playing against until we played Halo later on in the night (around 1:00am).  They took their bowling frustrations out on me by completly kicking my ass.  Even with major handicaps on their part I was still only getting 8 kills out of 20 or whatever.

Programming

I’ve still got my homework list of programming chores for home.  With the nice weather it’s hard to motivate myself to do any programming at home, but the current list is:

• Fix some of the problems with ADAL
• Start work on MASS (Multi Author Story System)
• Start work on Mage (.NET port of coppermine…sort of)
• Start work on the AGI Application Gateway Interface
• Maye install an open source CMS on the killfly root (http://www.killfly.com).
• Delete this shitty Linux OS from my laptop and put XP back on.

ADAL (Auto Data Access Layer) is a utility to generate the stored procedures and .NET classes needed to get up and running with a basic Data Access Layer.

License

Currently ADAL may be used for free by:

• Students
• Government Agencies
• Educational Institutions

ADAL may not be used:

• For Commercial purposes
• By BFFs

v0.2 Means Not Ready for Production

The code that ADAL generates has been tested by me for a total of about 10 minutes.  As such I would not recommend running the tool against a production database.

ADAL does not encrypt its communication with the server, so unless you know the connection between you and the database server is reasonably secure, I wouldn’t use it for databases or data that you are really attached to.  You never know who’s listening to your wire looking for a database username and password to go flying by.

ADAL also has trouble with some datatypes right now, it can generate the Stored Procedures all right, but translating some SQL server datatypes to .NET data types gives it a headache.

Is it Really That Dangerous?

No, but i’m covering my ass.  ADAL itself only issues SELECT statements against the database, you can actually run ADAL with a very low-priviliage account.  It seems that as long as the account is a data-reader, it can get the information it needs.

Of course, ADAL does generate the CREATE statements to DELETE information from your tables.  So if you were careless, you could run one of these stored procedures and delete a row of data.  That’s about the worst that can happen.

How do I use it?

• Download the ADAL .zip file below, and unzip the .exe inside.
• Run the .exe.
• Fill in the server, username, and password.
• Click Connect
• Select the database you want to generate a DAL for.
• Check the tables you want to generate a DAL for
• Click “Make A DAL!”.
• Copy the SQL from the “SQL Output” tab into query Analyzer and run it.  Make sure to select the correct database first!
• Copy the VB code from the “VB Output” tab into a new vb class file in your project.
• Compile.
• Have fun.  Enjoy not writing that crap by hand.

How Do I Download?

ADAL v.01

ADAL 0.2

Changes

ADAL 0.2

• Added color highlighting to VB tab.  Only bug is that you have to click in the VB textbox and hit a key to trigger the color highlighting.
• The account you use to connect with used to require that it have “master” as the default database.  This has been fixed.
• There is a bug that was introduced as well, there is tome text (“test”)included at the end of each of the VB and SQL code windows.  You’ll have to delete this text before or after you use it.

Š

First Create A Class
We need to create a class the items of which we will add to our custom collection.  This one’s pretty simple, it’s a car:

Create The Custom Collection
The important parts to note are the first line where we inherit from System.Collections.CollectionBase.  This provides all the basic functionality of the collection to us.

The next thing we do is to re-implement the Add and Item properties.  This is what makes it so cool.  Later on when you access these properties the intellisense knows that your adding a “CarItem” object and you have all the properties of the “CarItem” available.

The Microsoft article made the Item property ReadOnly.  I’m not sure why, I decided to implement the Item property just like the Base object’s Item Property (allowing Get and Set).

Using The New Collection
Now that we’ve created our new collection we can use it.  The code below shows an example of how you might bind the collection to a datagrid.  Obviously you’d probably be adding the data from a database and not manually, but this is good enough for example.  The last line also shows how you can use the item property to inspect the items within the collection.

Here’s an Example of The DataGrid After Being Bound

Pretty cool eh?

Here’s the original Microsoft Article which I basically re-implemented here

http://msdn.microsoft.com/library/default.asp?url=/library/en-us/vbcon/html/vaconCreatingYourOwnCollectionClass.asp

DSC_3446

Originally uploaded by firstdivision.

Found a cool place to take pictures of planes coming into TF Green Airport in Rhode Island. It was getting dark when I got there so this shot was taken at 1600 ISO, that’s why it’s so grainy. I’ll go back someday a little earlier to get some better shots (hopefully).

DSC_3402

Originally uploaded by firstdivision.

Taken on New Year’s Day as we drove to breakfast. Ice on the windshield was slowly melting.

I like the different shapes that the ice crystals create.

For those technical people out there, here’s what I did:

Backup Current Site

• Exported database from MyPhpAdmin as SQL file in case I needed to restore.
• Downloaded all the files from the blog.killfly.com subdomain to my local hard drive.

Get New Files And Prepare Upload

• Downloaded and extracted the new WordPress2 ZIP file to my desktop.
• Copied the config.php and php.ini from my local backup to my downloaded copy (so I can upload one big folder).

Do Actual Upload and Update

• Deleted all the wordpress files from the blog.killfly.com server (made sure to leave my stats folders).
• Upload new files.
• Ran the /wp-admin/upgrade.php file as per the instructions.
• Opened http://blog.killfly.com/ in my browser.

I realzed my custom banner was missing (my fault)…

Fix Missing Banner

• Uploladed my personalHeader.jpg file from my local backup at wp-content\themes\default\images
• Uncommented the line in header.php using theme editor to re-display the custom header.

Done!

Granted, my blog is fairly small, and I didn’t have any uploaded images. But I was very happy at how easy the upgrade was.

-Andrew

I like how the steam gets blown around a little. It was a 3 second exposure so there was enough time for the wind to move the steam around.

Standing straight and watching
Spoken words go flying by.
Concentration blurs, and eyes drift off,
My ears have said goodbye

Waiting on my own two feet,
With patience gazing far.
I close my eyes, and breathing deep
I fly out to the stars.

Wishful thinking of our youth;
It’s so easy to forget.
Waiting on the stairs of life
Remorse and fear, regret.

Is there reason in the world?
Is there a joker in my hand?
Is there a reason to even try?
Should I even make a stand?

We punctuate our lives with work.
Does quality even matter?
From all I’ve seen it surely doesn’t,
At least that’s what I gather.

If no one cares or wants to try,
Then I’ll just pack and walk.
I’ll find a place inside this world,
Where I’m not afraid to talk.

The first is the time I wanted to see how fast I could run. I ran alongside a car while the driver kept pace with me tracking my speed. I started slow but quickly built speed until my legs were a blur of supernatural running power. Somewhere around thirty-five miles per hour on the car’s speedometer (I’m pretty sure I remember that speed correctly), I disappeared from the driver’s view.

“You were right there…and then you were gone.” said the driver, “I looked into the rearview mirror and saw you behind the car.”

What the driver saw is what I wish I had a picture of; my body rolling and bouncing down the road. I had attempted to slow down and ended up locking my knee by accident which caused me to “spin out of control”. I landed on the pavement hard, rolled a few times, and eventually came to a sliding stop, which is where most of the damage to my skin came from. Don’t worry, nothing permanent.

Why do I wish there was a picture? Because that must have been one of the funniest things in the world to see…and i didn’t get to see it. I can only hope that someone saw it from their house and now has an awesome story to tell about the “day they saw this dumbass roll down the road.” I know we tell that story at least once a month in my house because it’s always good for a laugh, but if we had pictures it would be so much better.

What’s the second time I wish I had a camera? I’m not going to tell you because it doesn’t sound nearly as funny as the story I just told. I’m going to ammend my answer, I can think of only one time I wish I had a camera, but I’m sure there’s more.

largest_garlic_clove

Originally uploaded by firstdivision.

The largest clove of garlic I have ever cut into. Keep in mind, this is just one clove of an entire head!

This was actually a clove of garlic tha was inside a gift basket that we recieved. Since we were cooking up some chicken that was also in the gift basket, I decided to take on the garlic.

I minced about 3/4 of this clove and quickly fried it in butter,making sure not to burn or even brown it. This was added to a pan of fettucini with fresh-cut tomatoes and the garlic. This pasta/garlic mixture served as a bed for the chicken.

Yummy! Almost (but not quite) as good as Chicken Cordon Blue from Mama T’s.

A group of scaredy-cat ducks takes off just because I walked out on the dock.

Hey, it’s a D70 not a 12 gauge.

Expressionless and stern, the rowboat captain dips the oars into the water and takes another stroke. He pulls hard and the boat rushes forward, gladly accepting the captain’s direction. Friends forever, the boat and man’s trust in each other is complete. One would never fail the other.

The shore is gone; enclosed in a shroud of fog they continue their journey.

“Trust is important.” The captain says to the boat. The boat agrees and accepts another pull of the oars. In fog there is no time, only gray suspense, and the sound of your motion.

A shore appears ahead, a black smudge in the gray. It becomes a beach and the captain takes the boat there. The beach is sand, not stone.

“This is better.” The captain says to the boat. The boat agrees and lets itself be pulled up onto the sand which feels better than the rocks of their old beach. The captain walks away and the rowboat waits for his return, it waits for their next journey into the fog.

Photo of hthe day (so far). Walked around the yard with my new lens…

—————————————————————————————
“So Andrew, what about you?” John asked.

“I guess I would have to say agnostic.” Andrew replied.
—————————————————————————————

Discussions on religion, like politics, are ones I tend to do my best to stay out of, partly because of their ability to so quickly divide a group. I realize that submitting a typed document on the subject is directly opposed to that behavior, but my answer has been bothering me and I think it needs clarification. Since I tend to write better than I speak, this seems like a good way to submit that clarification.

As I spoke aloud my original answer to John’s question, I felt like I lost standing in John’s eyes, and possibly Jane’s as well. This is certainly what bothers me about my response most, enough so that I had to get up out of bed and work out this explanation. I definitely feel like the answer I gave was incomplete, and that I need to fill in the gaps.

A better, but still incomplete answer to John’s question would have been to reply that I’m a non-practicing Congregationalist (Protestant). This is how someone else at the table responded to the question, although for a different faith. Basically, Congregationalism has as a defining characteristic no select Priesthood; the Ministers and Deacons are “leaders in a community of equals” ¹. This is the religion I was taught and baptized as a child; I just haven’t been to the church in a while except for the occasional wedding or funeral, thankfully more of the former than the latter. In fact, as is obvious from the footnote above, I had to do some research just to make sure I had the correct definition of Congregationalist.

In order to begin my search for more information, I first need to see exactly what it is I said in my original answer to John’s question. My first stop was a few Google searches, the first of which led me to a page defining agnostic as:

An agnostic thinks it impossible to know the truth in matters such as God and the future life with which Christianity and other religions are concerned. Or, if not impossible, at least impossible at the present time. ²

I agree with those two sentences. Actually, after reading that entire page it turns out that I agree with a lot of what is said. However, that’s just one person’s view on agnostic beliefs.

I suppose that’s what bothered me a little about my original answer, the fact that I was compelled to place beliefs after agnostic in that last sentence. Also, agnostic seems to carry with it a negative connotation, which is why I felt like I had lost some standing in both John and Jane’s eyes. Being labeled agnostic by my own answer to a question, I begin to feel constrained already by the limits of a definition.

One day I took one of those “See what religion you should be” tests. One of the religions that came to the top of the list was Buddhism. Another Google search led me to the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order web site where they offer a definition of Buddhism as:

Buddhism is a path of practice and spiritual development leading to Insight into the true nature of life. Buddhist practices such as meditation are means of changing oneself in order to develop the qualities of awareness, kindness, and wisdom. ³

Another definition I can agree with. Who can deny that awareness, kindness and wisdom are things that we should strive for? However, I again run into the same problem of feeling constrained by the boundaries of one particular system. Why should we have to force ourselves into one definition when most religions contain things we believe anyway? I have a feeling I could probably continue this exercise of investigating different religions and find that I agree with a lot of what is said, but there may always be a few things here and there that make me take pause.

I suppose the conclusion I’m starting to arrive at is that I have no answer for the question “What is your religion?” because I shy away from anything labeled as such. I definitely have a personal set of beliefs and principles that I try to follow to the best of my ability, but I cannot say that they all belong to one religion. So the real answer to John’s question is that I have no answer, and yes, I realize that that’s a lousy answer.

Footnotes:
1)
http://www.haverfordwest.freeserve.co.uk/cfwales/beliefs.html

2)
http://humanum.arts.cuhk.edu.hk/humftp/E-text/Russell/agnostic.htm

3)
http://www.fwbo.org/buddhism.html

The duck says “What are you looking at?”

To find the user that the application runs under, insert the following code into a page of your application:

Response.Write(Environment.UserName)

The user that Windows XP uses (in my tests) is: ASPNET
The user that Windows Server 2003 uses (also in my tests) is: NETWORK SERVICE

Another factor to consider is that the above accounts were found with the application running with “IMPERSONATE IDENTITY” = False. If it were set to true, the account would either be IUSER_MACHINENAME or the domain user if IIS has authenticated them.

Keep these issues in mind if you need to allow the end users elevated permissions (such as uploading files). You will have to give permissions to different accounts depending on what version of IIS you are using.

Not one of my pictures….

Just a reminder to everyone…..WINTER IS COMING!

Needed a new picture so I posted this one that I took tonight. We’ve got one of our first fires going of the year, and it signals the beginning of fall and winter….and snow soon!!

I originally started taking pictures of the fireplace itself, but then thought that maybe looking at the firer through the glass would be more interesting.

Test post of a picture from http://flickr.com to my blog.

Here’s the caption from flickr:
Photo taken of a book and bowl of grapes. I came home one day and the table was set like that, “Hmmm” I thought, “That will make a neat picture.”

The only drawback about VSS Reporter is that the generated files aren’t very pretty. Fortunatly one of the output options is XML which we can make to look pretty using XSLT and CSS. And then, as long as we’re in there, let’s add some functionality to integrate a home-grown issue tracker with changes made in SourceSafe. Then we can answer the question, “What bug or feature required that this file be changed?”

XSLT
The XSLT file essentially builds an HTML page out of a supplied XML file. It was a little tedious to get working a first, but after a little bit of trial and error I was able to get the layout I wanted.

Another thing that the XSL does it to look for an occurence of “ID=” in the comment field. When files are checked into SourceSafe, we have to make sure that we use a comment that includes this string. Without it there will be no way to correspond changes made to files with the issues submitted in the issue tracker. This part is optioal to you, in fact if you don’t have “ID=” in your comment, the XSL will just ignore it and not try to build a link to the issue tracker. This brings up the first modification you have to make.

If you want to use the functionality to integrate your issue tracking system with SourceSafe, you’ll have to use a comment like the one I describe above. In addition, you’ll have to change the line in the XSL file that builds the link to the issue tracker, since I’m going to guess that your URL to your issue tracker is not the same as the one I made up for the example.

Look for the line that looks like:

and replace it with the URL to your own issue tracker. The comment itself is appended to the end of whatever you specify here, so keep that in mind. Either your issue tracker will have to be smart enough to extract the identifier for the issue from the comment….or you’ll have to get fancier with the XSL to have it pass in only the ID number of the issue. Since my VB.NET skills are much better than my XSL, I chose to make the IssueTracker page the smart one.

CSS
The CSS file is nothing special, it just makes the display a little easier to look at.

The Final Product
An example VSS Reporter XML file shows how the three files work together to produce something that both looks nice (I think), and is useful.

If you look at the source for the XML file, you will see a line at the top that is not included in the XML file that is originally generated from VssReporter. This is a line that tell the XML processor where to find a XSL document to use (I hope I’m not lying about what is going on). In any case, you’ll need to add this line to the top of the XML file.

There’s also a ZIP file that contains the three files mentioned in this article. Just unzip all theee to the same directory.

Conclusion
Hopefully someone will find this useful. VssReporter is a really powerful (and free!) tool. I think Visual Studio 2005 Team System might make this unnecesarry in the future, but probably not for a while.

The first is BCWipe which allows you to securly delete files, or entire drives. I haven’t used it, but I’ve talked to someone who has and they say it’s pretty cool.
http://www.jetico.com/

The second tool is Daemon Tools. This is a nice utility that allows you to mount ISO images as drives in Windows. I’ve got an ISO mounted right now, took a few seconds to click the icon in the tray, select my ISO image and then navigate to to my new “F” drive. Pretty slick.
http://www.daemon-tools.cc

The DataSource wizard has been expanded too. You can now specify an external URL to fetch an XML file for a datasource, that was pretty neat. I’m not sure, but it also seemed that all the “auto-generated” connection strings were maintained in the web.config file auto-magically, even though the presenter was generating a new datasource on each page. There’s also a way to specify a stored procedure to use as the datasource. If this option is chosen, Visual Studio will read the parameters required and prompt you for where to get them (querystring, control, object, etc). Also pretty cool.

The other major feature is something called master pages which lets you specify a template-file for the entire site and control the layout with that file instead of having to keep track of includes all over the place. There’s also “skin” support that lets you define how each control should appear (i.e. all calendar controls should have a grey background, 12 pixel font, etc…). Unfortunately, the skin support doesn’t extend to regular HTML controls, so you can’t use it for things like an H1 tag…I don’t understand why not. This means that CSS is still required for these.

It will also validate the HTML for a particular browser, and will do it for section 508 compatibility if that’s required.

They didn’t cover much about Team System, which I was interested in, but they did give us a DVD of Team Foundation Server that we can install to check out the new features. They also gave us a DVD with all the presentation details on it, you are welcome to borrow mine if you want.

Just thought I’d mention that. lol

Earlier….
When I was coming back from work I stopped by the boat club to see if anyone was down there. Nobody was, but I did see my dad moored off Bill’s Island. I also noticed that the inflatable raft was still in with the dinghies but in need of air……a plan was born.

I drove back to the house. Threw a 12-pack and a bunch of ice into a cooler. Grabbed the air pump for the inflatable and launched the canoe with my supplies. I paddled out in the canoe to meet my dad who was moored on the “saff-tee” mooring off Bills Island. The plan was to be a hero and arrive with a 12-pack of ice-cold beer and hang out there for a while. However, when I rounded the point I realized he had already left the mooring to go back to the boat club. Since I was already out there I figured I would paddle over to the club (long paddle into the wind). This would have to substitute for my excercise, no running today.

Getting closer to the club I realized that he was getting ready to leave.

“You THIRSTY?” I yelled. Of course he was. I tied up my canoe to the boat club dock next to Tresta, cracked two beers and handed one to him. Now properly equiped with a cold beer I began pumping up the inflatable which I would be using for the return trip. When it was drum-tight we slid it into the water and I side-paddled it over to the waiting canoe. We tied the canoe the inflatable hip-tow style (side-by-side), I started the engine on the inflatable and I was off.

I couldn’t turn! We had tied the canoe too far to the front of the inflatable and even with the engine turned 90-degrees to the side I couldn’t turn one degree. After re-adjusting the lines I regained control of the two and was able to motor out of the morring field and made my slow downwind journy across the pond back home.

However, suddenly IIS stopped being able to serve classic ASP pages (.NET still worked fine). It just returned a “500 Internal Server Error” The symptoms were exactly the same as an article on MSDN, (two events in Event Viewer, one for W3SVC and one for DCOM) but we couldn’t get the suggested fix of making the passwords the same in both the IIS metebase and Windows.

It turned out, the easiest solution was to uninstall and reinstall IIS. It takes about 20 min and you’re done. Take lunch between the two and you barely notice what’s going on.

1) Copied VSS\Win32 directory from sourcesafe server to local client machine in C:\Program Files\Microsoft Visual Studio\VSS\Win32.

2) Ran SSINT.exe

3) Opened Visual Studio 2003, opened a project from source control. It works.

4) Deleted everything from the local C:\Program Files\Microsoft Visual Studio\VSS\Win32 except: ssint.exe, mfc70.dll, msvcr70.dll, ssscc.dll, and ssus.dll. This is the same file list that is present on a workstation that had the integration installed from the SourceSafe CD.

5) Opened Visual Studio 2003, checked out a file, checked it back in. Works!

One comment that both the posters stressed is to make sure you have SourceSafe licenses for the machines the machines that you install the integration onto.

Actually, this was a test to see how hard it would be to get a picture from http://photo.killfly.com/ to show up. I always like this pic, I guess that’s why it’s in the Nikon d70 category.

Eventually I’ll get some posts up in the technology section…..hmmm, maybe I’ll do that right now.

Here’s a backed-up post from earlyer in the month. I had set up another blog but deleted it in favor of this one. Anyway, here’s theold posts:

Friday – Saturday – Sunday: River Rafting
This was an awesome trip. I drove up to Millinocket Maine and spent the night at a campground. In the morning we headed over to the rafting place to gather our synthetic jackets, life preservers and paddles.
The day starts off with a 13 foot waterfall. The waterfall empties into a large area so the consequences for falling out are pretty low. That’s why I think the company uses this spot to get almost every boat to flip at least once. You might as well see what it’s like now.

The rafting itself is strange. The rapids are unavoidable, you know you’re going through it and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The horizon line gets closer and the noise from the rushing water gets louder. Then (for me anyway) something strange happens. You go into super concentration mode and before you realize it the rapid is behind you and you can’t remember exactly what it looked like. At least this is what it is like from the perspective of a couple days. Of course the one highlight that will stay fresh in everyone’s minds for a while is Exterminator.

Almost everyone in our raft fell off in the Exterminator Class 5 rapid. Not exactly the goal in a huge boiling cauldren of bron water. Everyone except for one person made it back into the raft, he was forced to navigate the majority of the rapid using only his life jacket. He said later that he thought to himself, “There’s a pretty good chance I could die.” This was absolutely true.

Monday (today): Vacation Day (Victory Day)
Helped install some speakers on Mike’s boat.
RROL practice at Indy – Wrecked out.