Sunday, July 13, 2014

Hot summer, little sailing, lots of music ...

Alizee is in safe harbor for the summer in St. Petersburg.  We've spent a couple of nights aboard her as a way station from our home in Punta Gorda and the Tampa airport, which makes leaving and arriving on trips much easier.  But, while others may not agree, we find it simply too hot to do much sailing.  So the summer is a time for other pursuits ... primarily being retired!  But I found a great summer gig for my All That Jazz Quartet, every Wednesday evening at Cassariano's Italian Eatery in Venice, about 50 minutes north of Punta Gorda.  So lots of music is making things merry.  We'll be there through September 24th, 6:30-9:30 p.m.  Drop by if you're in town.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Alizee goes back to St. Pete for the summer

Most everyone knows that it's hurricane season in Florida between the beginning of June and end of October.  While we love having Alizee with us on Charlotte Harbor, our tie up at the yacht club is not a very safe one in the face of potential tropical storms, much less a dreaded hurricane.  Therefore, we decided to sail Alizee back up to St. Petersburg and put her in her summer berth at the Harborage Marina.  This is anywhere from a three to five-day trip, and it takes a bit of planning.  Additionally, it's pretty hot down here now, so Penelope urged me to find somebody else to help me take the boat north.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned the trip north to Al Hedstrom - Captain Al, as he's known - who sings lead and plays guitar in the Coast Connection blues/rock/bluegrass/country band that I played with during the winter months.  He spends most of his time on the water as a fishing guide out of Ft. Myers, but that didn't stop him from saying he'd love to go with me on a little sailing trip and the last week of May would be perfect before he packs up to head for the Minnesota boundary waters and his summer work chasing wall eyes, etc.

Starting in late April, I started getting some maintenance work done on Alizee, in order to have it all done by the trip: fixing the head and replacing clogged sanitation hoses; trouble-shooting the dinghy engine; putting a couple of coats of varnish on the cockpit coaming and hatch covers, and doing a service on the auxiliary Yanmar engine.  Then, for three days before, I did a basic cleaning job on Alizee and then, with a lot of help from Penelope, got her provisioned for the trip.  We also had Al over for dinner and what one optimistically might call a bit of a captain's meeting.

On 26 May, Al drove to our house and picked me up.  By 0900 we were pretty much loaded aboard Alizee, and we left the dock at 0915, motored out onto Charlotte Harbor and got the spinnaker up and flying by about 1000.  We had a slow, very light-wind sail down the harbor (well at times we seemed to be losing ground), and then at about 1400 the southerly wind shifted and a west wind of about 14 knots appeared.  We put up the mainsail and had a nice ride at about 5 knots speed over ground (SOG) down to an anchorage north of Matlacha.  The anchor was dropped at 1700, and we settled in for our first night.  Al brought home-made enchiladas for dinner, and then he got out his guitar and me my little Yamaha keyboard, and we played music until 2300 or so.

Down Charlotte Harbor to Matalacha.




Next morning we weighed anchor at 0710, put the spinnaker up and were underway in a light 5-6 knot morning east breeze at 2.5 knots SOG.  Al had what would become his typical breakfast of oatmeal with bananas, strawberries and dried fruits, while I made up a scrambled egg stir fry of peppers and onions.  (I forgot the mushrooms, damn it!)  The wind pretty much died by 1030, and we motor-sailed out the swash channel (a narrow channel through which the tide flows), just at Boca Grande inlet on to the Gulf of Mexico. Once out, we continued motor sailing in order to make the 30 miles to the Venice inlet.  Al had his typical lunch, a salad, and I had a chicken sandwich, we caught a Spanish Mackeral each and released them because Al had brought a bunch of Mangrove Snapper filets - we didn't need more fish, but the entertainment was just fine.
                                                                           Captain Al on the Gulf.



Unfortunately, we snagged the spinnaker on the forestay while trying to tack it and what was initially a very small tear in one   panel ripped all the way across the sail.  So we took it down and bagged it (we dropped it off at the sail loft in St. Pete for repairs after we arrived).  A nice wind came up thanks to thunder storms moving up inland along the coast to our east, and we got some good sailing up to the Venice jetty.  There we dropped sails, motored into the Venice Yacht Club to spend the night, took showers and headed to the bar for a couple of drinks (very small pours, indeed).  We met an older couple from the Bradenton YC at the bar, then returned to have real drinks on Alizee and to cook dinner.

As we were just sitting down in the cockpit, Al noticed a family in a jet-ski boat who appeared to be sinking. They were just 25 meters from us, and the father was bailing frantically while two little girls got into life-vests and a young boy perhaps 17 or 18 tried to help his dad.  Finally, the boy got in the water with a line and swam to the ladder at the end of the dock beside our stern tie.  I helped him up the ladder, they pulled the sinking craft over, got the girls on the dock and dad kept bailing.

L-R: SeaTwo guy checking bottom of boat, Miguel with boat hook in boat, Antonio with pump, and Izzy looking on.

Antonio Cassariano, the father, assumed that drain plugs had not be put back in from the day before, so Miguel (the boy) tried to dive the stern of the craft to see.  I loaned him my snorkeling mask, but he still couldn't see it. Eventually, they reached SeaTow, and their representative brought a couple of pumps to get the water out faster than it was coming in. The probably was that the exhaust pipe had come lose, and water was pouring in through the whole.  At long last, the SeaTow fellow got a towel stuffed in sufficiently to stem the incoming flow and they finally pulled the boat around to a ramp and saved it.
                                                                                                               Front-back: Antonio & Miguel                                                                                                                                Vanilla and Izzy with their Dad.


The girls, Isadora (Izzy) and Antonella (Vanilla), got over their initial fears and had a good time with the adventure in the end. Meantime, Miguel and Antonio dropped my diving mask while trying to hand it from one to the other, and splash ... it went to the bottom.  Antonio, it turned out, is chef-owner of Cassariano's Italian Restaurant in Venice (very upscale), and said we had to come to dinner, which we said we'd be happy to do, perhaps on our way back down after dropping off Alizee in St. Pete.

(The next day, after letting Penelope know about this, we called Antonio on his personal cell, and told him we could come for dinner Friday right after they opened at 1630.  He readily agreed, and we assumed this would be payback for the lost mask.  And, indeed, it was.  Antonio is an amazing chef, and we had a truly wonderful  dinner - not inexpensive, but he gave us a nice gift certificate that easily covered for the lost diving mask.  And, at Penelope's suggestion I gave Antonio one of my "All that Jazz Quartet" cards, and he said he and Luca were thinking about starting a jazz evening.  In fact, a couple of days after we got home, he sent me an email asking if we'd be available in July, August, September and for more information on our group.  Maybe we'll get a gig or two, which would be lovely!)

... All in all, it was an exciting late afternoon and early evening and after everyone had gone, we had a snapper dinner (also by Al) and again played music in the cockpit until 2330.

The sun arose at 0630 on 27 May, we made coffee
and left the dock by 0730.  I was a bit queasy for half the trip, from all the alcohol that Al had forced down my gullet, but it passed in time.  Actually, we had a following sea, and I always get queasy with those. We had a light breeze from the east as we motored out the Venice inlet, and then with our main up and Genoa out, we motor-sailed up to Egmont Key, at the mouth of south Tampa Bay.  Despite the light winds we managed to make 4 knots SOG for the 31 miles, and anchored around 1830 at Egmont.  Lamb meatballs that Penelope and I had made ahead provided dinner, along with vegetable skewers that Al put together and I barbecued.  No music this night, but conversation still kept us up until 2330.

Thursday the 28th found us up and underway be 0700, on a starboard close reach to the Sunshine Skyway Bridge under 10-14 knots of SE wind.  We sailed up to and under the bridge in one tack, turned to a beam reach once under the bridge and picked up to 6 knots SOG all the way to slightly northeast of our destination in St. Pete.  Then, after we tacked to lay in a course to the marina, at 1130 hours, the winds simply died. We were becalmed for almost two hours, and then got a couple of knots speed to drift us over to the marina channel.  Engine on, sails down, docking lines and fenders rigged - we were met at the dock by my friend Jeff Grant.

                       On the way to the Sunshine Skyway Bridge.

We relaxed through the afternoon heat, ate spaghetti and meatballs (by Penelope) for dinner, played a little music and deferred boat work until the morning.  On Friday, we washed the boat down (Al doing most of it, which he said he liked doing and anyway felt like he was finally contributing to the trip), got the interior cleaned, packed up our stuff, took the spinnaker in the dinghy over to Advanced Sails and then dropped Bertha (the dinghy) off at the Harborage Marina Hi-and-Dry storage facility.  We stopped at Fish Tails for a cold beer, walked back, showered, finished packing the coolers, and Penelope picked us up at 1500.  We drove to Venice for our "thank-you" dinner at Cassariano's ... it was truly wonderful food ... and then headed back to pick-up Al's truck at our yacht club and get home.  It was a very fun trip home and a great week of sailing!  Can hardly wait to do it again ... well, the last week of October, we'll bring Alizee back down to Charlotte Harbor.


Monday, May 12, 2014

An almost perfect sail ...

It's starting to warm up here in Florida.  The snowbirds have almost all flown north.  Soon those of us who stay for the summers will be spending most of our time in the AC cooled indoors.  But the past three or four days have been lovely, short of 90 degrees with low humidity and, most important for sailors, with a nice 8-12 knot breeze.  We would have left the dock on Thursday morning, but we had already bought tickets for a Charlotte Stone Crabs (Class A Advanced) baseball game that night to join a couple of friends from the yacht club, so we didn't cast off until Friday morning.  (The game was great fun, with the best Philly Cheesesteaks and dollar beer, but the Bradenton Marauders trounced the Stone Crabs 8-2.)

We sailed about 21 nautical miles down Charlotte Harbor (which, if you don't know, is really a very large bay: 270 square miles) to a spot about two miles north of the historic fishing village of Matlacha, where we found a nice anchorage.  On the way south, we trolled and caught two nice Spanish Mackerel, which Penelope stowed for fileting later.  We caught a couple of other smaller fish, but released them.  We had a peaceful evening and night here, reading, relaxing and marveling at the wonderful conditions.  It was a little warm in the cabin, but we were able to stay on deck until dark (when the mosquitos started to appear); after that it cooled off nicely down below.

The next morning, Penelope fried up the Mackerel with a couple of over-easy eggs for breakfast, and we finally weighed anchor around 10:00 and sailed north with a southeast wind pushing us along nicely to the Myaka River, a little over 16 miles.  We anchored at 14:30, arriving earlier than we expected.  This anchorage was not as good a choice.  We probably should have gone another two miles up the river to an anchorage called Cattle Dock, where we'd stayed before, but that was closer to the mangroves and we wanted to be sure we weren't eaten by no-see-ums -- one of the reasons not to spend nights on the water during Florida's summers.  So, we tolerated the tidal changes and river currents that worked against a nice 14 knot wind to create a roily anchorage for the night.

Although we didn't get quite enough sleep, we finally awakened to a nice morning with a steady 10 knot breeze.  After a breakfast of apple sausage, mushrooms, red peppers and scrambled eggs -- one of our best! -- we set sail and headed back to our marina, about 10 miles.  We were at the dock just before noon, and spent a little over an hour packing up, cleaning up, and washing Alizee down.  First, however, Penelope caught a little chameleon and returned her to shore.  The little guy had hitched a ride for all three days, apparently getting on board via a dock line.  S/he had clung to mainsheet rigging and other lines for the bulk of the time we were out, and s/he drank some water Penelope left out and devoured a fly we trapped. 

Sunday, April 27, 2014

A day sail with friends ...

We went out on Easter Sunday with Bob and Harolyn Lester and their son Jon, daughter-in-law Jennifer, and their two children Sidney and Avery.  Every one had a lovely time, even though the winds were very light.  We sailed over to the Myaka River and anchored for lunch.  Then returned to the club around 16:30.

Avery, James, Penelope, Jonathan, Bob, Sidney, Harolyn (Jennifer taking the photo)

Sailing the Dyer Dinghy ...

Monday, April 6th is a red-letter day for us, because we actually launched our Dyer Sailing Dinghy Zephyr on the little lake behind our house.  First, we both went out in her and sailed around the lake.  Not much wind, which was good, and we got a feel for her.  Second, I went out alone, but only after capsizing right close to the shore.  Alas, Penelope got no photo of it.  But, we got her emptied out, drained, shipshape, and I climbed aboard to circumnavigate the lake alone.
 









  




Penelope followed with a solo sail about the lake, and she got some pretty good winds.  It was, all and all, a lovely day.

                                                                     


Dragon Boat race in Bradenton ...

 The Charlotte Harbor Yacht Club Dragon Boat team at work!


On March 29th, we participated in our first actual Dragon Boat competition in Bradenton, Florida, on the Manatee River.  They put us in the fasted category, Class A, because we're a club-run boat, but we clearly weren't Class A.  In our first race, 350 meters, we were almost cut off by the winning boat at the start , and we came in fourth out of four boats.  (I submit primarily because we were swamped by the winning boat's wake when they cut us off, but protests don't seem to be proffered.  It's not like sailboat racing.) 

Then the organizers cut the race length to 150 meters because of increasing wind and chop.  Still in Class A, we paddled a good race, coming in third.  With our combined race times, we were just .12 seconds off of getting into the trophy race.  But, alas, that .12 seconds still put us out of contention.  All in all it was a great time!

Finally, a little sailing ...

It seems this winter the tides have been extreme and when they have been good the weather has been lousy, with fronts coming through.  Additionally, we've both been busy, me playing music every Monday until the 1st of April with the "Coast Connection" rock/blues/country band, holding Wednesday afternoon jazz rehearsals, and going to yacht club membership committee meetings; both of us going to fishing club meetings on Thursday afternoons and Dragon Boat paddling practices on Wednesday mornings and Saturday mornings.  So, we haven't gotten in much sailing. 

But the weather was so nice and the tides cooperative in late February, that we adjusted our schedule to get out on the water.  The first day, a Thursday, after filling up on diesel, we took Alizee out on a high tide and anchored around 15:00 just outside the entrance to the club.  We lowered the dinghy and motored back into the club at 16:00 for the fishing club meeting, then returned to the boat and fixed ourselves dinner and watched the sunset. 

The next morning we went for a good sail, and along the way through out our trolling line and caught four Spanish mackerel (a story we told on the new fishing blog that Penelope created for our fishing club).  Because we were scheduled for Dragon Boat practice Saturday morning, we just sailed back and anchored again outside the club on Friday evening.  We were too tired to cook up the mackerel, but enjoyed cocktails, the sunset and a dinner that we'd prepared ahead for our little trip.  Next morning, we dinghied into the club for paddling practice.  The engine on the dinghy started missing and was hard to start, a problem which I attribute to old gasoline ... that gas has now been burnt up in my car, but I've not yet given the once over to the dinghy motor.

After paddling, we got back out to the boat, and we set sail for the Myaka River, due west of the club, where we found a nice, quiet anchorage for the night.  Very peaceful, and we awakened the next morning enveloped in fog, two sleepy pelicans floating just off our beam and taking absolutely no notice of us.  Gradually, we heard early morning fishing skiffs feeling their way through the foggy mist, and when it finally lifted, we hoisted sail, weighed anchor and slowly (because there was very little wind) made our way back to our berth at the yacht club. 

This is, of course, being written a while after the fact, and we are sad to report that we've not been out for more than a day sail since.

Saturday, March 01, 2014

Adding to the fleet ...

Ever since I sold  my Islander Bahama 28 Dog Days, a sale that included Pup, the tiny wood/fiberglass pram that my friend John Tuma built for me, I have missed having a little hard-sided tender.  Well, I've also missed having Dog Days, as well, but one can't be too selfish with boats, and so for the past five years I've had to be satisfied with Alizee and her Walker Bay Genesis RIB Bertha.  But the idea of a sailing dinghy just keeps popping up every time I see an advertisement for some classic small boat: a sharpie, Bug, Beetlecat, Melonseed, Fatty Knees and so forth.  My mind has been working overtime lately, perhaps because I have just finished an article on the history of recreational sailing in which I reviewed the history of several of these small boats and their evolution since the nineteenth century (a bow to the late Howard Chapelle for his pioneering work American Small Sailing Craft, 1951).

So, I was primed and ready when Fred and Eleanor Jacobs from our sailing group "The Dolphins Cruising Club of Tampa Bay" sent out an email saying they were selling their Dyer Midget sailing dinghy.  I immediately asked for first right of refusal, then emailed Penelope, who was in DeLand visiting her sister, to get her opinion.

"This is what Bill buggered up," she replied almost immediately.  "It was sweet before he did that."  So the offer was made for the asking price, and two minutes later Penelope added: "Wonderful!  I hope we get it!"

It turns out that in Penelope's life before me, she and Bill had owned a Dyer dinghy, which they had a great time sailing on Lake Winnemissett in DeLand.  Who would have believed I would be wanting to buy the same type of sailing dinghy.  It seemed like it almost was meant to be, if you believe in that sort of stuff.

But the deal was not quite done yet, because some other Dolphins club member had gotten first right of refusal three minutes before me.  Fred contacted me and after observing that "you both must have been sitting on your computers," he said if the other fellow didn't take her, she'd be mine.  And 24 hours later he called and gave us the good news.  So, say hello to our newest fleet member, Merrily (name soon to be changed), a 1974 Dyer Midget sailing dinghy.


She is the third in a line of sailing dinghies built by Bill Dyer, who founded The Anchorage in Warren, Rhode Island, in 1934 and produced the Philip Rhodes' designed 10-foot Dyer Dink, a hard chined wooden boat.  Around 1940, Rhodes also designed the most famous of the Dyer dinghies, the 9-foot Dyer Dhow.  It was designed and built out of the then revolutionary new material, marine-grade plywood, at the request of the War Department, who approached Dyer and asked him to produce, according to his granddaughter Anna Jones, "a boat that would fit in nine-feet of space and hold nine men." During World War II, they were used on PT boats in the Pacific as well as rescue units when ships were attacked -- according to one report "stacks of Dyer Dhows were dropped into the water over shipwrecks to allow survivors safety until they could be rescued."  In 1949, Anchorage started constructing Dyer Dhows with fiberglass, which makes it the the oldest continuously-built fiberglass boat in production today, and the Dyer Midget was introduced in 1952.

Merrily is hull 6575, laid up in May 1974, and she was sold and shipped by the company in January 1975 to a customer in Sun City Center, Florida, a Del Webb retirement community on the east side of Tampa Bay that was opened in 1962.  As you can see, she's a centerboard dinghy with a Gunter rig, 7' 11" in length (LOA), with a 4-foot beam.  Her draft is 3 feet with the centerboard down and 5 inches with it up, and she displaces 90 lbs. 

As you can probably guess, we're excited to get out in here and will possibly be employing her as a full-time tender on Alizee.  But first, I'll be doing a little polishing and varnishing to make her debut on Charlotte Harbor a good one.

Friday, January 24, 2014

The Lynx in Tampa Bay ...

Seems like almost every year, the Lynx, a recreated privateer from the days of yore in America, comes to the Harborage Marina in St. Petersburg, Florida.  Saw her their last year, and here's a nice look at her:

Friday, January 10, 2014

2013 Sailing Recap IV: short cruise to St. James City ...

About three weeks after Alizee's arrival to Charlotte Harbor, we set off on a short cruise to St. James City at the south end of Pine Island.  We had planned this a bit ahead, so that we could join up with some of the Dolphins Cruising Club, which we'd joined when we were sailing out of St. Petersburg.  The highlight of the trip was a book signing for Robert MacComber's new book, Honors Rendered.  MacComber is a local author who has written quite a good series of naval maritime novels that locate the home of its main character on Patricio Island at the north end of Pine Island Sound, bordering the south edge of Charlotte Harbor.  It is a sister to Useppa Island, right on the ICW and very near Pelican Bay to the west. 

On 20 November, a Wednesday, we arrived at the boat in the late afternoon, stowed all our provisions with plans laid to have dinner at the CHYC that evening.  At a little after 17:00, we walked up to the club and ... oops, the doors were locked.  Nobody home!  So much for the club's calendar, which announced happy hour and dinner.  Oh well, we had cocktails on the boat and my hero, Penelope, prepared salad and our own spaghetti and meatball dinner.  I was pretty peeved about the club being closed, and the next day I called and talked to the GM, noting that, if there was a chance the club would be closed on a Wednesday night, then that should be published in the calendar.  He agreed, and subsequently it was.

The next morning we backed off the dock, using a spring line to pull our stern around the pier's end, went out the channel and by 0830 had raised the Spinnaker in light air.  By 09:30, we'd sailed down even with Burnt Store Marina (which is a mile south of our house on Burnt Store Road), making good speed at 6 to 6.5 knots SOG in 10 knots of wind on the beam.  The Spinnaker makes all the difference in the world on a downwind to beam reach. At the bottom of Charlotte Harbor, however, when we changed our course from south to west, toward Pelican Bay where we would meet up with the Dolphins group, the wind dropped to 8 knots and our speed to 3.3 knots SOG. We dropped the main, which was now blocking the Spinnaker, but by 10:30 there was virtually no wind.  We were ghosting slowly toward our destination, with a Crealock 37 ghosting along behind us.  After two hours, the Crealock's captain fired up his engine and as he caught up and finally passed us (just a couple of meters off our port side), said with a grand smile: "I give up.  You win." 

We actually arrived at Pelican Bay the same time three or four of the Dolphins group arrived, and shortly after we'd dropped anchor, Gene Weatherup dinghied over for a chat.  Then I put the dinghy down and went over to chat the Crealock captain, who was anchored just in front of us.  Nick said said he keeps his boat permanently in Burnt Store Marina and often sails single hand, and we agreed to keep in touch.  I returned to Alizee to make up some crab-avocado-cucumber sushi rolls for the Dolphins' potluck, to be held on Mark and Jill Bridge's catamaran.  It was a great gathering, and my sushi was a real hit.  Mark and Jill squeezed 22 people aboard for the potluck and we had a great time renewing acquaintances with folks like Joe and Kathy Mansir, and I was flattered that Chris McDonnell complimented this very blog -- we hadn't seen him in almost two years.  Alas, it started to rain at 19:00, just as we finished eating, so we made an escape early to close the hatches on Alizee, finishing off the night by watching the original "Flight of the Phoenix" film on our laptop.

22 November found us up by 08:30.  We fixed breakfast, Penelope cleaned the head and repacked our foul weather gear/life vest storage back, and, by 11:30, we'd hoisted the dinghy and were ready to weigh anchor.  Once outside Pelican Bay and turned south down the ICW and Pine Island Sound, we hoisted the Spinnaker, which initially provided a really nice sail.  But, after passing Useppa Island and Cabbage Key, the winds picked up and we decided to douse the Spinnaker.  In doing so, I foolishly let one of the sheets slip through my hand, getting a pretty bad rope burn -- I felt the effects of it for a good week.  Once the sail was down and stowed, we rolled out the Genoa and had a good sail the rest of the way down Pine Island Sound.  At marker #18, we turned eastward, into the wind, and took the sails down, motoring into the anchorage off St. James City.  We dropped anchor between the Mansir's Island Packet 37, Halcyon, and a ketch named Bridgette O'Toole, whose captain climbed out at 17:00 and serenaded the anchorage for a half-hour with the bag pipes -- she was pretty good, too.

Bill Cullen, who had hosted our first cruise with the Dophins back in 2011 (I think), came by in his dinghy and joined us aboard Alizee for a beer and some reminiscing.  Later, after our bag-pipe serenade and as the sun set, our commodore, Mark Bridges, sounded his conch horn.  It had been a long time since I'd blown my own; so, although I got one good blow, I was not very successful overall, which left Penelope in stitches.  Perhaps my sundowner had a greater effect on me than I would have imagined.  Oh well, steak and potatoes for dinner.

On the 23rd, we relaxed in the morning with coffee.  We'd initially planned to anchor over near Sanibel Island and dinghy in to meet some new friends we'd made because of my searching for musicians on Craig's List. Edgar-Joachim Beyn, a trombone player whose advertisement I'd answered and talked to several times on the telephone and who is also a long-time sailor, and his wife Kate have winter home on Sanibel.  The timing wasn't quite right, however, so they said they'd motor over to our St. James City anchorage in their small power boat.  Initially they were coming over around 13:00, but they called ahead and arrived at 11:00.  Once they rafted up to Alizee, we sat and chatted for a half-hour or so, and agreed to get together after Thanksgiving (indeed, we drove down for an afternoon a couple of weeks later, and Edgar and I played dixieland, while Kate and Penelope got to know each other a bit better).

This was the day of the book signing, so at noon, we dinghied in to Woody's Waterside restaurant and bar.  We tied up next to Gene and Jo's ketch, Shenandoah, which has only a 3 foot draft and easily could navigate up the channel.  We were hungry, so we got a round table in the bar and ordered lunch.  Soon we were joined by the Mansirs, they Mark Bridges, Bill and Penny Schlenker and new Dolphin members, Eileen and Pete.  Lots of good conversation, but we had already decided to leave early so we could sail back up to Useppa Island, thereby shortening what would be a very long trip all the way back to the CHYC the next day.  We got back to the dock to find that our dinghy, Bertha (for "Bertha's Mussels", the best place in Baltimore to get mussels), had been pushed by later arriving dinghies under the dock.  The tide had gone up, and she was stuck.  As we puzzled about this problem, Dolphin member Steve Cardiff reminded me that we could deflate her, because her hard bottom would keep her afloat.  So, I crawled under the dock, removed Bertha's seat and deflated the tubes sufficiently to muscle her out.  After re-inflating the tubes, we were off and back to Alizee by 15:00.  I predicted an 18:15 arrival at Useppa, about the tail end of sunset.  Our motor-sail northward went well, until the primary shackle on the traveler came lose.  It was bent and could not be re-attached, but I found a spare and replaced it.  Fortunately, this didn't slow us down, and with our running lights on in the fading twilight, we anchored at 18:10.

The next day, we arose at 08:00, made coffee and got underway quickly. We sailed, with an occasional assist from the motor, up the ICW to Charlotte Harbor, turned east and made it across the southern part of the harbor toward Burnt Store Marina in two tacks.  We turned north and made it to the CHYC channel entrance in two more tacks.  On our way up, we saw an enormous number of dead fish, discovering later that this was the result of a severe "red tide" over the previous week.  We hadn't seen them coming south, so it must have just effected the fish.  Unfortunately, our arrival time at the CHYC was near to low tide, so we elected to anchor out for the night, and go closer to high tide at 07:30 on the 25th.  We made it, but scraped the bottom going down the channel, which is dredged to five-feet mean-low water.  We've had some really major lunar tides here during late fall and winter, and this couple with a NE wind that blows the water out of Charlotte Harbor, means we are always at the mercy of the tides.  Anyway, we got in, washed down the boat, flaked and covered the sail and had breakfast.  I was meeting an electrician to try and solve Alizee's electrical mysteries at 09:00, and he arrived on time (see Alizee's maintenance log for the results, posted under 25 November 2013)