Can you guess what this is?

If you guessed 'Boat Yard' you would be right.

And what's a trip to the Bahamas without a trip to at least one, right?

Here's Hans as he wanders back to our boat.

Apparently while I was away for a week and Hans had taken to hanging out at Snappa's Bar, our port engine felt neglected, took up with a questionable group of friends, and picked up a nasty smoking habit. Even after being told to knock it off, she belched out even more smoke and asked us just what the hell we planned on doing about it. We happened to be within a few miles of Boat Harbor Boat Yard in Marsh Harbor and so we marched her smoky butt right on over for some rehab and tough love.










Wilbur wonders if there are any boat yard dogs hanging about.

There was and it was love at first sight.















Bubba wanted so badly to board the Knotty Cat and visit with his new found love. When he realized that wasn't happening he was happy to just croon ever so quietly, "Woooo woooo woooo," and Wilbur squawked back in his rough pitty voice.







Dennis from the boat yard was a really nice guy who'd actually worked in Rock Hall, Maryland for quite some time but after suffering through snow up to their roof he told his wife they were going back to the Bahamas.

Smart man.

He immediately put our fears to rest that it might be clogged fuel injectors and feels that it's most likely carbon build up in her mixing elbow. We've had that in the past and hope that when we get back home we can clean it out. In the meantime we made the mistake of saying oh well at least we still have the starboard engine. The starboard engine caught wind of this, pitched a fit at the possibility of being an 'only engine', and promptly piddled oil all over the engine room floor.

After thinking things over and knowing that oil can only come from the engine itself or the oil filter, Hans checked out the filter and lo and behold, it was loose! He gave it (and the port engine filter) a good crank. No more drips.

So far so good.

For now.

Boats, Planes, and Automobiles...

... instead of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles; Hans and I took a slightly, yet equally adventurous, detour.




Let me show you what MapQuest looks like on my computer.

That little red figure is our Knotty Cat!

Isn't she cute (Please say yes!! She's quite vain and every little bit helps)!

Here's a close up of her just as we were crossing the Maryland/Virginia border.

This disc and GPS is what I used to navigate our way through the Intracoastal the night we couldn't see a thing, and it was a life saver!










When we entered the Charleston Harbor, Tuesday afternoon, we only had about eight miles to go in order to get to the boat yard, but the current was so strong it took us three hours to get there. We tried to take advantage of the small amount of wind we had and put up the jib.

I swear we cheered when we hit 3 knots of speed!

This is the 186 foot bridge we passed under on our way up the Wando River.








Once the Knotty Cat was hauled out and we realized she had some missing and loose bolts on the plates that held her prop shafts in place, we had hoped things could be tightened up and we'd be on our way.

Well, it wasn't to be.




Wires that should have helped stop corrosion had been cut by the previous owner (which explains some of the problems we've been having), our propellers (lying in pieces on that cardboard) are no longer manufactured so the mechanic will have to be creative for the couple of parts we need, our engine mounts should have been replaced 500 hours ago, and the forever leaking stuffing boxes are going to be replaced with Dripless Shaft Seals.





This shaft was ripped out the next day. It was corroded and needs to be cleaned up.


Since the estimated time for all this to be done will take a week or so we decided to come home. We'll head back down after Christmas and resume our trip at that time.


Friday we ended up renting a car and then drove to Florida where we spent the night with some friends. Off to the airport the next morning for our flight to BWI, and then an airport shuttle to Kent Narrows where our car was parked. Five hours later we walked into the apartment and I realized I'd left a bunch of paperwork on the boat. Nothing valuable, but I wanted to file a health insurance claim and now I don't have any of my forms! We also had very little food in the cupboards and ended up eating cheese and crackers for dinner.


The good news is, we get to pick up Wilbur this afternoon and I only hope he remembers us!

An unexpected stop and a decision to make.

Beware, this is a long post.

So if we're supposed to be sailing, why is our Knotty Cat out of the water?

Because two nights ago we discovered a leak in our starboard engine room.

A big leak.

And of course we found it only after dropping our anchor in a very remote part of the Intracoastal about 15 miles past Georgetown.

We had made such good progress, and for once the currents worked with us and we actually motored along at 8-9 knots for quite a while.

The anchorage was beautiful and the sky had gone pink as the sun was just setting. I was going to use the grill and make dinner and we were looking forward to a relaxing evening when we realized the starboard bilge pump was dumping out water about every 30 seconds.

One look in the engine room and we knew we had to weigh anchor and get the hell out of there. Water was streaming steadily from where the propeller shaft enters/exits the boat and our batteries would never be able to handle the load of the bilge pump running all night and we don't have a generator.

I wanted to head back to Georgetown but Hans wanted to forge ahead. We called Leland's Marina in McClellanville (15 miles south of us) and he said we could tie up there for the night.

Thus began one of the most nerve wracking three hours I have ever endured.

The sun set shortly after we got underway and even though we had clear skies and a crescent moon we had to rely almost totally on the MapQuest disc on my computer (remember Fritz our GPS has been surly lately and would prefer to show us on land half the time).

Why this couldn't have happened on one of those stretches of water with all the houses and a lot of light is beyond me and we found ourselves navigating through the most desolate swampland you can imagine. The water was completely still which caused the tree line to reflect in a mirror like fashion from the shore and made us feel like we were going to run aground at any second.

Markers were few and far between and the unlit ones were a bear to spot. I would run up front and frantically wave a flashlight and feel immense relief when I would finally find it.

We knew from my computer that we were approaching a green marker but I couldn't see it at all. I was leaning over the bow with my light when I finally spotted a stick in the water just in front of us. It was my marker but the green reflective square was missing.

Everything became one dimensional and distance was impossible to judge. We would see flashing red lights ahead of us that would scare the bejeebers out of us because we were supposed to see flashing green. Then we would realize that the red lights were from towers miles away from us.

Three hours later we arrived at the creek to the marina and then came part two of our adventure. Jutting out from both sides were many unlit docks, my flashlight couldn't pick them out at the same time, and there was a bend in the creek. I was literally screaming PORT! and STARBOARD! back to Hans and he still couldn't hear me over our engines.

After barely missing a couple of docks we finally arrived at the marina only to find someone had tied a boat up to our spot and there was no space available anywhere.

That's when I almost started crying.

We got lucky though when we spotted a couple of guys sitting in a shrimping boat and they went up to a building that looked like a speak easy from the twenties, rousted the owner of the squatter and made him move his boat.

They also helped tie us up and then even came on board to have a look at our problem. Two hours later Mike and Eric left. They ended up stuffing tea towels, one of my cute pot holders, and a piece of our flag pole into the shaft area and slowed the leak to the point where our bilge only went of every few minutes.

I guess Fritz finally got his wish because The Knotty Cat is now on the hard at the Charleston City Boat Yard way up in the Wando River and we're wondering how the hell bolts on the plate that hold the propeller to the boat are loose and/or missing. Also a couple of bolts that hold the cutters in place were sheared off.

I'm not really smiling, I'm just insane.

You can see where a bolt is missing at the bottom of that plate and the loose bolt at the top.

The bolt on the bottom of the port side plate is loose.

Also, after two weeks in the water our zincs were ready to fall off. The problem was not corrosion (we had a galvanic isolator installed this summer) but the fact that they were improperly installed.

A lot of work needs to be done (parts ordered or retooled) and if it's going to take too long, we'll be calling this trip quits and going home. That means the Knotty Cat would winter in Charleston. I think she's always wanted to be a southern belle.

We're Still Alive...

...after an overnight sail straight from hell.

We left Tilghman Island at 10 AM Wednesday morning and the forecast was so favorable we decided to take advantage of it and an overnight sail only made sense.

The day was bright and sunny and our new solar panels managed to keep the batteries from discharging. Our instruments use about 8 amps and therefor a day of sailing can drain them.

I'm very thankful though that Hans rolled them up and stored them at sundown or they would have blown away during the night.

Hans took a picture of this freighter at sunset when things were looking pretty good.

We had a fantastic 12 knot west wind and smooth seas until midnight. Five minutes later the predicted north wind hit with winds gusting over 30 knots, but we hadn't counted on swelling seas. The rest of the night we slalomed, sluiced, and slammed our way down the Chesapeake, and tried to stay out of the way of freighters that always seem to come out of nowhere. The seas boiled and rolled like a devil's cauldron and by one AM we had a ditch bag ready. It's also the first time I've ever seen Hans wear a tether.

We talked about finding a cove to duck into but the few we could find on the charts looked tricky and would take forever to get to so we just kept moving.

At the beginning of the trip when Hans had suggested we lash our dinghy to the stern (pictured in my last post) I thought it was unnecessary. But if we'd towed it like I wanted to I know it would have ended up at the helm with Hans along with the huge wave that broke over his head and flooded the cockpit at around 3 AM. The wave also blew out our stern light and dislodged the dinghy and it spent the rest of the night fighting it's restraints. Hans finally ended up yanking a piece of its line up over a winch where it held for the rest of the night.

I think this is when our GPS antenna bit the dust and we could no longer keep a fix so we used the navigation CD in my computer until it crashed and I couldn't get it going again. Out came the hand held GPS and it worked fine.

I started puking around 2 AM and by 4 AM I left Hans and lurched my way to the salon where I fell asleep and drooled all over the neck of my jacket. Trying to navigate our bodies around the boat was like being inside a pinball machine, we bounced off everything. At one point when Hans stood up he very nearly got thrown out of the cockpit and had to brace his feet widely apart and hang on tight in order to stay in the captains seat.

We had prayed that daylight would bring calmer seas but when I woke up at eight it was just as bad and now I had dry heaves. Seeing the waves in daylight was even scarier, and as we crossed the final shipping channel in Norfolk, Hans said, "Jesus Christ, we can't catch a break, look at that." Straight ahead of us was a massive submarine and two Coast Guard Cutters and we had to change course once again. Watching a submarine submerge while up close and personal is pretty interesting.

Finally, twenty four hours and 114 miles after leaving Tilghman we motored into Little Creek in Norfolk, Virginia, and docked at Little Creek Marina. It was still gusting and even with help we still ground our anchor into a piling at our very awkward slip. The Knotty Cat took her final revenge by snagging a dock line, that had fallen into the water, and snarled it up in her starboard propeller.

Hans wasn't able to get a nap until after we walked about 2 miles to a West Marine to get a new antenna for the GPS. They didn't have the one we want but a West Marine in South Carolina does. They'll get it to us somewhere along our trip.

We left Little Creek this morning after a tug of war with the Knotty Cat over that tangled dock line. We thought we won but as we left the marina we noticed white smoke coming out of the exhaust. We are currently motoring south into the Norfolk Harbor Reach using the port engine. We hope after a little bit of rest it will clean up its act.

We are now headed toward the Intercoastal and plan on taking the Virginia Cut. We had really hoped to go via The Dismal Swamp but we need to use the quickest route possible this time, as Hans has work and poor Wilbur is in Doggy Day Care while we're away. I have to say though that as much as I miss our little boy I'm very glad he's not on this trip.

First stop, Tilghman Island

We motored a whopping 15 miles yesterday (all of it into 20 knot winds) and pulled into Tilghman Island just ahead of a big blow. A bit of weather had been predicted but this kicked up pretty quickly, giving us the impression that Mother Nature had been stewing about something all day and all of a sudden decided to have an hysterical fit. For about an hour she screamed and threw lightening at us to let us know who's boss then someone gave her a Valium and she went to sleep. As a matter of fact, she was so calm that we were able to hoist the jib at our dock.

Crazy weather though. Hans' first night on the boat was cold enough to need a heater but yesterday was hot and humid, and we were swatting at mosquito's.

Tilghman Island is very pretty but beware of the channel current. We only had 2 knots to contend with but apparently 6 knots can be the norm. The Chop Tank is the cause of this and that's why Tilghman's Draw Bridge operates on command. With 6 knots of current you wouldn't be able to idle in the channel and wait for a scheduled opening. We were told that this makes their drawbridge one of the busiest in the world.






In an effort to hopefully get an extra knot of speed we tied the dinghy up on the back of the stern. This will also help keep the bottom of it clean. After towing it for two months this summer it had about in inch of green junk on the bottom.























Hans and I took advantage of Knapp's Narrows Marina's continental breakfast, and shower facilities.










Hans is always working. Here he is reading emails while taking our garbage to the dumpster.

Blogging is a bit difficult for me because I have to use his phone for the internet. The connection isn't very fast and then when I'm downloading pictures etc... his phone will ring and either a happy german or an unhappy frenchman will need to talk to him, and oops there goes everything I was working on!

So if I don't respond to your comments (or leave comments on your blogs), I apologize as it's all I can do to publish one post. But I'm still reading everyone's blogs when I can.








The gulls had a feast on our deck last night but they're very rude and in addition to not cleaning up their messes, they leave all kinds of colorful poop behind.











We had a feast too thanks to Betty Crocker and her tasty Tuna Helper.

My mother gagged when I told her we'd be eating this stuff so I'm glad Hans isn't a picky eater.

















Here is our girl shortly before we left this morning. We are currently heading south towards the Patuxant and are sailing nicely at 5 to 6 knots in 15-20 knot winds.


Maybe we would sail faster if we had the main up all the way but since we discovered a huge rip in it this morning that won't be happening. The tear is at the bottom so luckily we can keep that part rolled in the boom.


If/when we get to Florida we'll get it repaired then.

Electric is Now Fixed So How About a New Disaster!

After an uneventful flight I arrived at the Knotty Cat and was very pleased to find that our electrical issues had been resolved. A wire inside our brand new inverter had come loose (and it took three hours for the electrician to rip it apart and put it back together). I'm sorry to say that I'm not a very gracious winner because I immediately said, "I told you so!" I just knew it had to be the inverter, but I'm glad to report that it's humming along very nicely now.

A disemboweled Knotty Cat nav station.















Our girl loves some attention.












This is just a small part of what I arrived to. But it's my fault because I told Hans not to put anything away.
I know where everything goes and I don't want to spend the next two weeks finding my canned goods in a drawer, the towels in a locker, and the toilet paper in the pantry.






I arrived Monday night, put everything away, and on Tuesday we were up and ready to go. We dropped the dinghy in the water, rolled up the solar panels, Hans was getting ready to bring in the electric cord and start untying spring lines etc... when I got the brilliant idea to sweep the salon carpet. So I opened up the port side closet (located on the far side of the berth) where the sweeper is stored, and screamed at the sight of three feet of water happily sloshing around in the locker.
I felt just like Chicken Little who screamed, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" because I ran up the steps and out to the cockpit like a crazy women screaming "The boat's full of water! The boat's full of water!"
Hans very calmly climbed over the berth and said, "Where the hell is this coming from?"



The back of the locker has yet another door to a small storage space and it too was full of water.



















Looking down in the locker.That's 3 feet of water down there.













After thinking we'd need to go buy a pump, Handy Hans decided to try syphoning it out first.

Some day I'll get the concept of holding both ends of a full hose level (I'm sure the berth and cabin carpet will dry out).
















The bilge happily sucked up the dirty locker water and sent it on its way!













Once we determined that the water was fresh and not brackish (thank God!) we had to figure out which of our many hoses this water was coming from. Each of our water tanks is under our berths. And of course this was the port berth where I'd loaded all of our provisions, including cases of pepsi and gingerale, boxes of canned food, our luggage (we're flying home) and anything I just wanted out of the way.
In order to get the water tank all of this stuff (including the mattress) had to be hauled up to the salon.



When I had to go over the the starboard berth and check out the plumbing in its locker, I had to crawl on my stomach to get past the mattress. For once I'm glad to only be five feet tall.

We finally figured out the leak was not from the water tanks but was coming from this hose.

What is it?

It's a locker on the front of the boat and that is its drain. Why someone felt the need to pass a drain through an inside locker is beyond us.

Here is the nice new hose after Hans got it installed.

And here it is where it drains to the outside. The top hose is a drain from the sun pad area. It looked pretty nasty so we replaced it too.

It took about an hour to get the lower hose off its fitting. Its placed in such a way that we couldn't get leverage and cutting it was difficult because its wire enforced.

In addition to that, the hoses snaked through two inner wall openings and there was barely room to yank them out and force the new ones through!

I can't imagine what we would have done if I hadn't gone to get that sweeper! And since I rarely use that locker I'm not sure how long it would have been before we discovered our indoor swimming pool.

We checked the starboard berth and were surprised to find its hoses are relatively new. You have to wonder why they didn't replace the port ones at the same time!

We lost the entire day and my ice maker got a good workout!

Today we are on our way! We're taking 20 knots on the nose and the rain has let up. I'm hoping we don't run into the thunderstorms that are predicted but tomorrows forecast is calling for west winds and we hope that holds!

Still No Electric, but Let the Sun Shine In!

So Hans still has no idea why the hell there's no electric on our boat, and last night he sent a desperate email to our electrician (who doesn't take weekend calls). Maybe because Hans has spent a lot of money over the years with him (his previous boat was a 42' Passport) the electrician called back. He told Hans that he'd gone over our electrical system with a fine tooth comb and can't for the life of him figure out what the problem might be, and will stop by tomorrow to check things out.

This exact situation occurred this past summer when we jumped on board, took off, and immediately ended up with dead batteries. This is because although this same electrician replaced 2 of our batteries, the original wiring was all wrong. But after many hours of paid labor to fix that problem along with installing a new stereo system, the stereo bit the dust the next day.

The problem? A blown fuse. Why? Who the hell knows!

This brings us to boat ownership and being handy.

Hans swore after he sold his Passport that he'd never buy another boat if he had to travel hours to get to it, take care of it, and depend on others to keep an eye on it. But after forgetting the pain (just like women who swear they'll never go through child birth again but go on to have two more kids!) he went and bought our Knotty Cat.

Hans is a very intelligent man (at home I call him McGyver) but we both felt it would be worth the money to have an expert get things up to par and then go from there. But if an expert can't figure out what's going on...

Today he finished up his diesel engine course and the nice thing was, the engine they used was identical to our two. He said the class helped bring everything together and tie up a lot of loose threads about what he already knew about our engines. Hans also got a kick out of the couple who appeared to be in their late 70's and look just like twins, and the guy who ate Hans' lunch.

The one bit of good news is; the solar panels woke up bright and early this morning and began charging our electrically deprived batteries, right off the bat!

I fly down to meet Hans tomorrow and our original intentions were to get our butts moving south. I sincerely hope this will be possible because I don't think I can handle leaving Wilbur even one day longer than necessary.


Here's our poor boy earlier this week after a bout of tummy trouble.

No more cheap doggy biscuits for him.


I just can't imagine how he'll fare while being boarded. I realize he'll have a half day of doggy day care (ie, running like a maniac with other dogs), but what about bed time?

This dog is a heat whore. If he's not sacked out on the futon with a blanket, he's in front of the forced air heating vent.

And in addition to that, he has sensitive skin and those aforementioned tummy troubles.


I have a feeling these next two weeks (or more) are not going to be very relaxing for me.

New Season, Same Problem

Yesterday after a 5 hour drive, Hans arrived at the boat yard in time to watch The Knotty Cat get dropped into the water. Today he attended day one of his diesel engine course, and will finish up tomorrow. He also replaced our crappy water pump (this act deserves fire works!), and spent a ton of money at West Marine. I swear Maryland's economy improves drastically the minute we set foot over the border!

This is becoming old hat but the Knotty Cat loves being paraded around boat yards.

The boat is currently at a dock and is on shore power, so last night Hans used the space heater (of course it was the coldest night on record in the past six months), and this morning he had a hot water shower, and then made coffee. Of course he enjoyed all of these wonderful things 'one at a time' so as not to tax the inverter.

He just called and informed me that tonight he has no shore power what-so-ever (he just spent the last two hours swapping out the power cord and trying to read the completely un-user friendly manual for the brand new inverter) , and since he doesn't want to drain the batteries, he is using one small light and is going to go to bed cold. Tomorrow he'll have to shower at a marina and find coffee elsewhere.

How this is even possible completely boggles my mind.

Because you see we just had the whole electrical input to our boat replaced, bought a new power cord, and had a new inverter installed.

All of this was done by an electrician so needless to say it wasn't cheap.

And it's not working!

Period.

Honest to God, this is an eerie reenactment of this summer. Because at that time we also had tons of electrical work done and the very weekend we moved aboard we ended up stranded at anchor for two days because our batteries died.

I will be flying down on Monday and I sincerely hope that this situation is resolved or the East Coast may suffer one of the worst earthquakes in history after I get done having one very nasty tantrum!

Herrington Harbor South...

... better known as: Hans and Laura's Bermuda Triangle.

Okay, a slight exaggeration I admit, but you tell me.

One evening at the beginning of our journey we knew a storm was brewing and possible anchorages were going to be few and far between.

Enter Herrington Harbor South.

The only space they had was at the fuel dock at $2.oo per foot plus $5.oo for electric, and even though we had to pony up $80.00, we were expected to vacate the premises by 8 AM the next morning.

Not 3 PM.

Not even noon.

8 AM!!!

Even though it was now evening and the pool was closed and we would miss out on all the amenities that $80.00 is supposed to buy, we jumped on it.

I did enjoy their air conditioned bath house and took full advantage of the laundry, but when the predicted storm blew through just as Hans and I were trying to enjoy a beer at the outside bar, everything headed south.

Lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and winds ripped through the outdoor bar area toppling tables, and smashing dishes and glasses willy nilly!!

I (with newly washed and dried hair!) ran like an idiot to our boat as all the hatches were wide open and Wilbur was unfairly crated just below one of them.

After closing the hatches (in driving rain and jagged flashes of lightning) I rejoined a very dry Hans in the enclosed bar.

I tried to keep the water that was dripping off my hair and clothes away from my food, and stewed about the whole sailing experience.

Fast forward to the last leg of our journey.

We're on our way home and hey!!! wouldn't it be nice to visit Harrington Harbor South on a better note.

You bet!

Let's get there before noon!

Let's use the pool!

Let's make sure we're not at the fuel dock!

We arrive at 6:05 PM, it's 5 minutes past closing time, and the slip we were told to take is for a boat with 50 amps and we draw 30.

The poor guy that finally shows up to help us is completely illiterate about all things electric and uses thirty words when one word would do!

He and Hans then spend way too much time talking over each other while I fume down below knowing full well I'll never get to use that damn swimming pool.

The first splitter (that supposedly filters 50 amps down to 30) doesn't work.

Hans heads to the pool and on my way to the laundry room (my job) I'm unfortunate enough to meet the 'talker' as he heads to our boat with yet one more splitter and he needs my ear and my assistance.

The second splitter also doesn't work, and Wilbur, who hears familiar voices, joins in our disappointment by screaming hysterically from where he's crated in his berth.

Upon returning from the pool where he had a refreshing swim, Hans consults with the inexperienced talker and it's determined that we need to move to another slip.

Considering how difficult it was to get into the one we're in, I'm not overly happy and Hans has the nerve to ask if I had a nice shower.

"What shower?" I scream. "I haven't even started our effing (only I used the real word) laundry for Christ's sake!

Hans is puzzled and gives me a hurt look.

Needless to say the laundry and my shower wait until a new place for us can be found, it's now well past eight o'clock at night, and the pool is closed.

The new slip is iffy (but way better than the fuel dock where much to my fury Mr. Manywords offered to put us!) but we manage to get in and then the electric still doesn't work. The talker brilliantly asks, "Should I try the other 30 amp outlet?" and I want to ask him if he has a death wish!

The other 30 amp outlet works and I'm thankful that I don't have to murder anyone.

Wilbur continues to scream, Hans heads to the bar where I've told him I'm in no mood for an appetizer and am in need of a full meal, and I veer off towards the laundry and shower room. At this point I don't bother washing my hair as it will take too long but at least I shower off some sweat and get two loads of laundry started. I pop the laundry into the dryer and hope my food isn't getting cold when I finally arrive at the bar.

Hans hasn't even ordered yet (he got hung up on business calls) and I wonder how someone with low blood pressure (me) could possibly have a stroke.

By the time I suck down a beer our food arrives and I finally begin to feel slightly human.

I manage to snag a few minutes at the pool the next morning (after getting some supplies at the market) and I even wash my hair.

We're then off and running (sailing) to our next destination, just in time to run into a horrendous storm.

With that in mind I think you'll understand why I don't really feel a need to visit Herrington Harbor South again.

Even Wilbur is exasperated!

Mayday! Mayday!

Well, not quite a Mayday, but I did have to call the Coast Guard.

On our radio.

I kid you not!


It happened after our guests departed from their weekend visit aboard The Knotty Cat.




Clockwise from top left: Bob, Hans, John, and Sean.


Hans was motoring them to shore in the dinghy so they could high-tail it back home after one very hot and overly Wilburish sail with us.



They say they had a good time(?).


















We were in the St. Mary's area and since storms were predicted for the evening we decided to stay put as we were in a pretty secure anchorage.



Here is Hans checking out the ominous line of weather as it was approaching.















Wilbur checked it out as well.


Luckily this storm passed right over us and we only had a bit of rain. We weren't so lucky come ONE AM because that's when all hell broke loose.


It only took one whistling whoosh of wind to rush through our cabin and Hans and I were above board in a heart beat. We had the engines running and electronics powered up just as a huge thunder and lightning storm hit.

Before it was over we had dragged a couple of hundred feet on our anchor and watched everything within a few feet of us disappear in a haze of pounding rain and wind.

I can only liken it to being above the clouds while in flight; we were that blind to our surroundings.
Since we dragged parallel to the shore and weren't in danger of running aground (or into another boat) we didn't have to power the boat over the anchor and just let it reset itself.


And like most summer storms it was over rather quickly.









What storm?


















A few days later we had forecasts of horrendous storms and possible wind gusts of 50 to 60 knots. We were docked at Harrington Harbor South (a place that's become a bad luck symbol to us but that's another story) and wanted to get to St. Michael's so we set out anyway.

We found ourselves motoring along with practically no wind and pretty flat waters but since the Weather Channel wouldn't shut the hell up about the storms I wouldn't let Hans put up any sails.


And then it hit.


"13 knots." Hans announced calmly, then, "20 knots! 25 knots! 35 knots! Oh My God 42 knots!" Only now he was shouting, and I was watching a sloop that for some odd reason had both its main and jib up. We then stared in horror as the sloop heeled sharply and tried to head into the wind. The jib flapped madly as the crew tried to furl it and then their main sail ripped to shreds.


Just like that.


To add insult to injury they ran aground and after trying unsuccessfully to radio them I finally called the Coast Guard.


We were in no position to help them and it was all Hans could do to stay in the channel.


Of course it was only after I gave the Coast Guard the exact location of the 'boat in distress' , along with our boat name and our phone number (for future torment I'm sure!) that we noticed they'd managed to free themselves and start to motor towards land.


I wonder how one explains to the little woman that a few thousand dollars will be needed to replace the main sail. Hmmmm.

The Fine and Friendly Folks of Annapolis

My last post was on Sunday and we were stranded at anchor due to dead batteries. We were prepared to spend one last night in this manner but the weather was oppressively hot, we couldn't use our fans, and the dog was in distress.

Then a BoatUS tow boat zipped by us towing a little power boat and Hans said, "Let's just call them and get it over with."

And he did.

A few minutes later Cory from TowBoatUS pulled up to our boat and he may as well have been George Clooney I was so happy!

Wilbur (who has to be extremely bored with us by now) was happy too and welcomed Cory with wild leaping and tail wagging (we wish we could harness that energy). Thank God Cory is a dog lover too (he mentioned that he has two boxers) and didn't mind at all.

What a nice kid (I have no idea how old he is but I'm 50 and everyone is a kid to me!) and he couldn't have been friendlier or more helpful. He let the dog slobber all over him so that makes him okay in my book. Anyway we were soon limping our way to the dock where our electrician was due to meet us on Monday morning.

Cory, if you're reading this, once again we want to thank you! I used to be a waitress and I hated having to work on Sundays when it seemed like no one else had to!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with tying up to docks (where they have this wonderful thing called shore power which means I can use a hair dryer!!) and wonder why the hell we don't do this every night; it's like paying to stay at a hotel only without maid service. The charge is around $2.00/foot of boat length so it costs $70.00 or so per night. Not cheap.

Hmmm... I wonder what he's saying to the dispatcher? "OMG, they have a dog and a cat on board! Are they nuts?"

I think this will be our next venture.

Towing crazy people who think owning a boat is fun!!

The next day Peter, our electrician, spent a full eight hours on the Knotty Cat.


Here he is at the top of our mast replacing our spreader lights. He also rewired the spaghetti like mess under the mast in order to repair our radar, and made sense of the batteries for the first time since we've owned this boat! The previous owner did a lot of work to the boat, didn't document any of it, and then couldn't answer any questions we sent him!





I swear, we now watch the batteries more closely than I watched my kids when they were toddlers!








We gave Wilbur his own knotty play toy (he likes to chew knots and thinks the jib sheets are yummy).





Here is our little rescue pup and he's probably wondering if it's possible to be saved more than once because this trip has been completely insane!

A Red Letter Day Aboard The Knotty Cat

Today Wilbur did a big number two on his potty patch!!

He's been a very good boy about peeing on it but still needed to be taken ashore for the important stuff. Believe me this is an event worth celebrating, and I did a little happy dance!

This might not seem like a big deal to you but considering the fact that since Friday (it's now Sunday) weve been stranded at anchor and haven't been able to start our engines (which provide us with power for little things like running our fans, water, and lights etc...!), this is pretty good news.

It makes up for the fact that my hair hasn't been washed for four days and if I'd been meant to be a pioneer woman I would have been born two hundred years ago!!!

I thought this was supposed to be fun!
















Wilbur's observation, "A little more to starboard! I think I see a fire hydrant!"

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

I believe we've managed to live a lifetime in a week.

But not in a good way.

Because of blustery weather, (and I just love NOAA's weather reports because ten knots gusting to fifteen really means twenty knots gusting to thirty and in the complete opposite direction forecasted!) we were forced to anchor in St. Michael's which isn't a bad place to be but we really needed to get to Annapolis.

Yesterday's winds were supposed to be favorable for our trek across the bay.

Supposed to be.

We are now minus a very big and very expensive sun pad. It took a flying leap off the front of the boat and is now happily floating somewhere in the Chesapeake.

I watched in horror as our dinghy zig zagged in an alarming fashion as we dragged it behind us, and the outboard motor (which is far too large for us) bucked and heaved like a crazed stallion. At one point when the dinghy was riding higher than us, with the motor jerking back and forth, and appeared to want to join Hans in the cockpit, I went below with the dog and shook.

We ended up in rolling, nauseating waves, with winds that gusted over forty knots at times. We were screaming along with the jib but finally had to take it down and use the engines in an attempt to get around Bloody Point (aptly named!). Then Hans put out a tiny amount of jib for the final ride and the wind took it in it's teeth and we flew into Annapolis where we landed at the City Dock. The Knotty Cat does very well in strong winds.



Our evening in St. Michael's lulled us into a false sense of security, and Wilbur and I beat Hans in a game of Sequence.

The next morning just before our trip across the Bay of Hell our (new last year!) water pump broke while I was brushing my teeth.











A monohull followed us from St. Michael's and they looked just like a giant dolphin. They would rise high up out of the water and then slam nose first into the bay. Again and again.
We ended up docking directly behind them at a bulkhead in the City Dock and we took each others picture.

"That was quite an exciting trip, wasn't it?" the captain of the other boat observed.

That's not quite how I saw it.












We originally wanted to go to Annapolis to get our newly repaired radio installed and ended up having to have the water pump temporarily hard wired.

Now when you use water you have to turn on a faucet, switch on the pump, and then turn the water off before switching off the pump.

Tomorrow we hope to have it fixed along with our spreader lights.




Here we are at the dock. I didn't realize we were tied up at Ego Alley. Apparently people like to tie up their fancy yachts here and show off for everyone. I was standing on our deck when a man in a very loud shirt asked me if I knew whether there would be room for his 80 foot yacht. I really don't think anyone with an 80 foot boat is going to ask me for help.

He was probably a serial killer.

I did feel like a big fraud though and tried not to see if the other boats were sneering at our poor needy cat and spent this morning fixing our many light switches that decided to quit working. Using a screwdriver, butter knife, and a corkscrew (my favorite tool) I was able to get all but one switch in working order but only after I took the dog for an hour walk and before Hans woke up.

Right now I think Chlorox the Cat and I are of the same mind about this trip