A Series of Events (Fortunate and Unfortunate)

We've been quite busy with offshore sailing preparations. We have now tackled one of the

big scary jobs: going up the mast. We took turns hoisting each other up on the bosun's chair. We needed to attach lines to fly the Q (quarantine) and Bahamas flags and the radar deflector. We picked a super calm day, watched a bunch of YouTube videos and went for it. It wasn't as scary as we thought. We can now add mast ascending (and descending) to our list of sailing accomplishments.

We also continue to underestimate the time (and $$$) it takes to do things on the boat. For instance, we were sure we'd have the boat ready to head south by December 1. We engaged a captain and had planned on Dave and crew heading to the Bahamas around December 3, with Sofie and I flying to Nassau to join Dave. But...

1. Instead of heading directly across the Gulf Stream and then south, Captain Jeff felt the best plan, given the weather, would be to get around Cape Hatteras and wait somewhere further south for a good time to cross the Gulf Stream. Time (and cost) of the transit to the Bahamas increased by at least 50%.

2. We learned that flying a pet into the Bahamas wasn't a good idea. Besides the logistical challenges and the problem of what to do with the huge dog crate on a sailboat, there was the potential for her to be waiting hours or longer to clear customs and the possibility that she would not be cleared. When entering the country on a boat, the dog stays on board while the paperwork is processed and it is a much more straightforward transaction.

3. By November 27, it became obvious that Aevitas would not be ready for an offshore adventure by December 3. We still needed to find another crew member, had a freshwater leak to track down, a mainsail to put back on, an oil pressure sender to replace, and fishing boat outrigger to replace...

We had an unfortunate event when leaving the dock after pumping out our holding tanks. The pumpout station at RPYC is at the end of the fairway with boat slips on either end, both of which happened to be occupied on the day we needed to pump out. On one end was a catamaran and on the other end was a large fishing trawler with 20+ foot high outriggers extending at least 8 feet from the back of the boat. Our boat is 46 feet long, the space between the back of the fishing boat (not counting the outriggers) and the front of the catamaran on the other side was maybe 80 feet, leaving less than 20 feet on either end to maneuver. We needed to spring the bow off the dock at a pretty good angle to maneuver between the two boats. The wind was blowing us onto the dock, making it a challenge to spring the bow out. The marina worker suggested we back up into the slip next to the big fishing boat and then use the piling at the end of the finger pier to spring the bow out. That seemed like a good idea. None of us were thinking about the outriggers twenty feet up and eight feet out, and the shrouds holding up our mast... in case you were curious, two sections of bent outrigger cost one boat unit ($1000) to replace.

At least we had good news with our mainsail. The sailmaker was able to repair it and said it should last a few more years. Yay! That saved us about 6 boat units.

Now that we knew it would be best for Sofie the Sailing Dog to get to the Bahamas on Aevitas and that we were not going to be ready for a December 3 departure, we considered all of our options: find a marina on the other side of Cape Hatteras to wait for a good weather window and then jump across the Gulf Stream; slowly work our way south until we were in Florida and then cross to the Bahamas; stay in Virginia and wait for a good offshore weather window. The least complicated was the last option - stay in Virginia until we could make an offshore dash to the Bahamas.

True confession here: while Deltaville is lovely and the people are wonderful, I was done with Deltaville. The dog and I had every easily walkable route memorized. Since the big catamaran next to us left, we were no longer blocked from the prevailing winds. The thought of waiting in Deltaville for weeks was kind of depressing.

The beauty of boatlife is that moving house is easy! There is no packing up, no arranging for a U-Haul, no looking for a new home. You can just go. So, we did. We found a great marina in Hampton, VA. It's 6 hours closer to the Bahamas, has an onsite restaurant, and is in an area with movie theaters and Trader Joe's. Because our mainsail wasn't yet on, we would need to motor to Hampton, ideally on a day with lighter wind. According to all the weather apps, the day after we decided to make the move was the best option and we prepped to leave in the morning. We woke up to fog. Figuring the fog would burn off or blow through, we left Deltaville for a new adventure in Hampton. I will miss the sunsets.

The fog did not lift. Thank goodness for working electronic instruments! We could hardly see anything for most of the way. Somehow we managed to avoid the crab pots. It was one of those times when we asked ourselves "Why are we doing this?" Another sailboat named Fire Fly was heading the same way somewhere ahead of us. We knew this because they were regularly on the radio letting folks know that they had no radar or AIS and they could not see anything. As we approached Hampton Roads and the major shipping channels, a container ship came on the radio, "Sailboat in the shipping channel we are a large cargo ship coming up behind you." We had a moment of panic and rechecked all our instruments. We did not see a cargo ship near us and we were pretty sure we weren't in the shipping channel. Then it was, "Sailboat, we are directly beind you." And again, "Sailboat we are directly beind you." Finally, Fire Fly responded, "We see you, we are moving over." I don't know how close it was for Fire Fly, but that must have been scary. When we entered the York River, the fog was thicker, the sun was setting, and the visibility was even worse. After turning into the Hampton River, heading towards the entrance to our marina, we had a second moment of panic when we realized we had inadvertantly turned completely around and were heading the wrong way. Landmarks on the shore slowly emerged from the mist as we became more oriented to our surroundings and we were able to re-orient ourselves. Dave did a great job docking in the semi-dark. I was totally impressed. Now we can add "navigated by instruments in a crowded shipping channel on a foggy evening with the sun setting" to our list of accomplishments.

After a day off, we were back in boat prep mode. Dave tracked down the water leak. There was a cracked fitting between the line for the hotwater heater and the kitchen faucet. We got all the water out of the bilge and it was so nice, for the first time since getting the boat, to have a dry bilge. Then we checked the next day and... we had water up to the lower bilge pump again! It had been pretty cold and there was a lot of condensation inside the boat, but that seemed like too much water for just condensation. Dave, once again, had to go on a leak hunting expedition. This time the water trail led directly from the hotwater heater. A new hotwater heater is on its way (1.3 boat units).

We feel more confident that the boat is ready for an offshore journey. Waiting for the right time to go will be more enjoyable in a place with things to do. We have our Bahama Dog Permit and extra anti-anxiety meds for Sofie the Sailing Dog.

The most fortunate consequence of not being ready to go in early December is that we are missing this Bahamas weather:

Windy with showers and thunderstorms likely. High 78F. Winds SSW at 25 to 35 mph. Chance of rain 100%. Winds could occasionally gust over 40 mph.

And, we have perfected our fondue recipe.