Monday, March 30, 2015

Here we go again. In a week I'll be 74 years old, and I am planning another sailing trip starting in mid-May 2015. I sold Jubilee in early 2011. I had prepared this boat for long voyages at sea, and I figured I had scratched that itch and was concerned that the new electronics would soon be considered obsolete. The buyer was a most interest fellow, in his 90s but full of vigor with apparently all his faculties. At least he seemed that way to me, although others might have seen him differently. Marvin Creamer, of Atlantic Beach. NC, is the only man, living or dead, to circumnavigate the world without benefit of navigational aids other than a clock and a radio. He took no compass, no sextant, no Loran or RDF or GPS. He is a retired professor of Geography who was able to estimate his latitude by having a calendar and taking approximate angles of the sun each day at noon. He guessed at his longitude by noting the approximate time of the highest point of the sun. He also knew about ocean currents and temperatures. He understood cloud formations and when they indicated land nearby. He had crossed the Atlantic three times without instruments to develop his confidence (and that of his courageous crew) before setting out to sail around the world. Marvin's wife had passed away, I think in the 1990s, and so this lonely sailor had found a new gal on the Internet. They fell in love and got married. When I sold Marvin the boat they had been married for about two years. She was younger, age 87. He was 92 when I took him the boat. I kiddingly accused him of robbing the cradle. She was of English birth. Knowing this, right before I drove into their neighborhood with Jubilee on the trailer behind me, I mounted a British flag and an American flag on poles side by side to the bow pulpit of the boat. They were in the front yard when I pulled up, obviously thrilled with the delivery of the boat that would take them, according to their plans, from North Carolina to England, using instruments this time. They were like kids on Christmas morning. I do not know if they ever made the trip. It can be pretty rough in the Atlantic in a 20-foot sailboat. I think it does not matter much if they went. They shared a dream, a vision of doing something extraordinary, and they experienced the thrill of the planning. The main fault I felt regarding my passage to Nova Scotia in Flicka Jubilee was having made arrangements to meet various people on certain dates. Most of these folks planned to sail with me for a leg of the journey returning from Nova Scotia. These dates became deadlines, and the deadlines became "dreadlines" in my mind. Sailing is not like a train or bus or airline in which time or departure and arrival are reasonably predictable and manageable. On my earlier voyage we had started out for Bermuda but had engine problems and had to divert back to Southport, NC for repairs. This put us far enough behind so that we decided to skip Bermuda and head for Nova Scotia where Alice, my wife, had made reservations to meet us. At Nova Scotia I had to wait a week for a weather window, sending my intended crew back to Massachusetts rather than keep him indefinitely in Nova Scotia. I told him I would reimburse his flight ticket back, and it was $1,700. My next crew was my brother-in-law, Bill Tumlin, who flew up to Portland, Maine, where I intended to go from Nova Scotia. My weather window did not last, and I diverted first to Provincetown, MA. But, I could not stop in Provincetown to take Bill on board because U.S. Immigration had no facility there to clear me as I re-entered the USA from Canada. So, we finally met up at Plymouth, MA where I cleared customs. Bill sailed with me from Plymouth to Newport, some 18.5 hours mostly in fog. My intended crew from Newport to Oyster Bay, NY, hosted an annual party on July 4 and had to be back home for that. I was not sure we could make that happen. The pressure was just too much, and it got seriously into my enjoyment of the journey. So, I ended my journey in Newport. My upcoming voyage will be different. I plan to go solo, and I have no dates or deadlines whatsoever. Right now, Im not sure if I'll go north or south. If I go south, solo, I would plan to anchor each night, and I could make it to Stuart, FL, the entrance to the Okeechobee Canal across Florida to Fort Meyers, in two weeks. On nice days i would sail outside, along the coast generally within 5 miles of shore. On not-so-nice days I would use the Intracoastal waterway (ICW). If I go north I could reach the Chesapeake Bay in two weeks, or nearly so. Maybe it would be fun to go Beaufort, SC to Beaufort, NC. Most people in late May are traveling north for the summer, and there is some appeal in getting to know some migrating folks along the way. In any case, I do not have to reach any particular objective. I do need to be back in Beaufort in early June. I'll put Mardie II on a mooring when I end my journey and probably rent a car one way to get home, then hook up my trailer and go north to retrieve the boat. I need to introduce you to Myrdie III, a traditional Cape Dory Typhoon Senior that is 30 years old. She is 22 feet long and has a 5HP outboard motor, sloop-rigged, weighing in at 3,300 pounds of which 1,700 is in the lead keel. I bought her in 2011 in Atlanta from a boat dealer near Lake Lanier. Here is a link to the specifications of a Typhoon Senior: . Stay tuned for updates and a more personal introduction to Myrdie III

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Too much in the Moment

I remain very much living in the moment. The plus of this condition is an intense focus on the tasks at hand and an appreciation of all that is going on around me. The downside is that visions of the future and recall of the past are hazy at best. I blame this condition for not including two people ho were important to me in the Passage.

JD Shiver quit his job as a cabinet maker to share in the first two weeks of the voyage. He was an essential part of enabling me to get to Nova Scotia. Having not been on an extended offshore voyage before, JD bravely experienced all the fears and uncertainties of doing this in a 20-foot boat. There were many times that I woke him from his off-watch slumber for a sail change, a reefing task, deployment or retrieval of the whisker pole, or some other chore. He always responded without co9mplaint. He fixed a hot meal most evenings. On his watch he often performed sail adjustment tasks by himself so as to not interupt my sleep. His observations about sail trim and weather conditions were usually right on. He is a bright young man (age 26) who is engaging in discourse about life, human nature, the condition of the world, and philosophical thinking. As I left him in Lunenburg, he was introducing himself around the town looking for opportunities for more offshore travel.

Bud Taegel, an orthopedic surgeon in Houston and my traditional skiing partner in Aspen, set aside his busy and valuable medical practice for a weeki to join me in New York for the trip down the East River to Sandy Hook, and then down the coast of NJ, up Delaware Bay, and down the Chessapeake to Annapolis. Unfortunately I terminated the Passage before this segment, so I did not have the pleasure of his company. I think he went ahead to New York to visit a friend, and I hope he understands and will forgive my change of plans.

There are times to plan and times to execute. As I tidy up on the conclusion of the Passage I am opening up a period requiring a great deal of thoughtful planning. The time has come to shift my life in another kind of passage. I plan to sell my homes in Atlanta and Beaufort and move to Texas. My working career is winding down, and what remains can be done from anywhere. My spouse of 10 years, Alice lives in San Antonio where she has an active social life as well as family. In Atlanta I have evolved into a social hermit, and my kids and grandkids all live in Denver. I do not have clarity on how to execute this passage. I will be getting rid of all things non-essential except for the items that have a significan role in my self-identity. But, there is little room in Alice's home for the stuff that I plan to keep. She understandably does not want to go through all the work of moving into a bigger place and suggests that I buy a place of my own in or near San Antonio to house my essential belongings. My inclination is to buy a place on a coast where the summers are mild and sailing is an activity. I have not yet found the perfect place. So, all this has to be worked out somehow. As a general rule, without clarity about the complete passage it is better to do nothing until the entire plan can jell. That, probably, is the best path right now.

Meanwhile, Jubilee is being offerred for sale. She is set up now for offshore passage-making. I have made my passage. She sould go to a new owner who wants to make a passage as I have done. I plan to put the specifics on .

Beaufort, SC
July 3, 2010

Friday, July 2, 2010

Different Realities

With Woody's Passage now concluded it would be reasonable for to visualize an attitude of, well, back now to reality. That, however, would not be accurate. For the past month (plus) I experienced a very intense reality and became totally absorbed in it. Political and economic news meant nothing to me. All emails other than personal ones from friends and family were deleted unread. Stock market gyrations did not matter to me. The BP oil spill, as unfortunate as it is, had no impact in my passage reality and was not in my thoughts. What mattered was wind, water currents, waves, boat mechanics, sail handling, fuel consumption, battery condition, sleep, sunrise, sunset, communications with family and friends, energy, containment and management of fear, steering, overcoming challenges, appreciating the blessings and joys of freedom, of good weather, of arrivals and departures, and the wonders and the power of the natural forces of our world.

My other reality, into which I now return, is a fortunate and happy place. The Passage was not intended as an escape, only a temporary change. I have tranquility. I am grateful for my family and friends and the blessings of fortunate circumstances. I carry into this reality the memories of the Passage, broader perspectives, and vastly expanded zones of comfort.

Following are some of the highlights of the Passage:

Scariest Times: Just before the first thunderstorm. And just before the second. And the third. Also, entering Newport harbor at 2 AM in pea soup fog.

Most Embarrassing: Running aground on the first day at Bay Point Reach

Biggest thrill: Catching a striper (striped bass) off the coast of New Jersey.

Most memorable moment: Following thunderstorms in the Gulf of Maine and 2 hours of sleep, waking to a crystal clear sky, a full moon, and a 10 knot breeze; I raised the sails and settled in to a two hour transcendental state that cannot adequately be described in words. The boat and I were at one with the sea and the air and the universe as I drifted in and out of consciousness in a state of total awareness of my surroundings and situation but also floating through the sky and time in gentle undulations. This was ultimately ended as the wind built to 20 kts and I had to put in a couple of reefs in the mainsail around 1 AM.

Worst weather: The third cell of thunderstorms in the Gulf of Maine packed winds in excess of 40 kts (I lost sight of the wind gauge as I slunk into the well of the cockpit). The sails were down, and the boat easily rode out the 30 minutes of screaming wind.

Biggest Frustrations: Wind below 10 kts on the nose in a sloppy sea. The boat basically comes to a halt in these conditions, and the motor is required.

Most serious breakdown: On the third day out from Beaufort the engine ceased to function due to a clog in the fuel line. I had to decide whether to press on to Bermuda or turn back to the USA. We had crossed most of the Gulf Stream and had just finished a 140 nm day with the help of the GS current. With good wind we couold reach Bermuda sailing in 4 days. But a high pressure area was settling over Bermuda, meaning the wind would likely be light and on the nose. We are dependent on the engine for electricity generation. We turned left and sailed to Southport, NC for engine repairs.

Most attractive towns: Southport, NC, at the mouth of the Cape Fear River about an hour's drive south of Wilmington, has to be the most friendly place in the world. The town is quaint with the harbor lined with Victorian era houses. Wonderful ambience. Reasonable real estate prices. Non-touristy. Lunenburg, Nova Scotia: Historic town similar in character to Southport but more touristy, with a New England flavor. JD loved this town so much he decided to rent a room by the week and to hang around for a while. Everyone knows everyone. Down to earth and laid back. Great people. Chester, Nova Scotia: The yachting center of the south shore of NS. Developed mainly by families from Boston and Philadelphia. Walkable end to end. Sailing races twice a week at the yacht club which costs $400 per year to belong. Seasonal, from mid-June to mid-October. The people of Lunenburg, more a year-'round town, refer to Chester as "a drinking town with a yachting problem". But it has all the conveniences we are used to and would be our choice in NS as a place for a summer home. Beautiful setting, more pricey than other NS towns but much less than comparables in the USA. Wickford, RI: This is about 10 miles up Narragansett Bay from Newport and is where I left Jubilee on a mooring. This is a colonial town that has not changed much in 300 years. Many of the homes date to the 18th and 19th centuries. As I entered the area on Jubilee on a Tuesday evening about a dozen cat boats were there racing in their weekly summer series. Beautiful town, wonderful sailing venue.

Gratitude: I could not have done my Passage without the support of my extended family and friends. Bill Tumlin, my brother-in-law, was my weather router of great importance. I talked to him most days around 5 PM for a weather update. He also come to New England from Atlanta to sail with me on the last leg of the Passage. Tracy Tumlin Allardice helped create the blog site and did many of the updates. Bill and Kerstin Gilkerson were my generous hosts in Nova Scotia, helping in inumerable ways for the 5 days I spent there in theoir guest house at Martins River on Mahone Bay. Bill Hickman and Deb Linnell who had created time to sail with me but were cancelled by my change of plans. Deb helped me locate a mooring while I return South to get the trailer. Finally, my spouse, Alice, who worried about me constantly but patiently let me indulge my dream of making this Passage.

This ends the blog. We will be posting pictures and videos here and on when we get them edited. Meanwhile, Jubilee is for sale, and I will post her specifics on this week-end.

July 2, 2010

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Woody's Passage Ends Successfully in Newport

I am in Newport, RI, and this is where the sailing portion of Woody's Passage ends.

It has been over a month since turning loose the dock lines in Beaufort, SC. A blockage in the fuel line on the third day heading to Bermuda caused a diversion to Southport, at Cape Fear, NC. This delay caused a change of plans to by-pass Bermuda and sail straigh to Nova Scotia. On advice of my weather router, Jennifer Clark, on the third day out of Southport we dodged a storm by diverting into Cape May, NJ. From Cape May we dodged another storm by ducking into Montauk. Then, for the fun of it we stopped for 2 nights in Nantucket on the way to Lunenburg,Nova Scotia.

JD Shiver sailed with me all the way from Beaufort to Nova Scotia and we got along wonderfully passing the hours discussing philosophy, history, and interpretations of current events. JD did most of the foredeck work, never complaining about being woken up for a sail change or other tsks. He fixed gourmet freeze-dried meals. He stayed in Nova Scotia, planning to spend a month or more exploring the Canagian Maritime Provinces.

My hosts in Nova Scotia, Bill abd Kerstin Gilkerson, were most generous with their hospitality as I waited for a weather window to contine the Passage back to the USA. My biggest frustration was that I left my wallet at the marina in Nantucket and my cell phone (an 9Phone) died from salt water infection. What are the two things you need most when travelling? Money and a means of communication. My wife, Alice, fortunately flew up and was there to help with creative work-arounds. The weather window arrived the same day as my wallet (by FedEx) and I departed from Lunenburg solo for the voyage across the Gulf of Maine.

The Gulf of Maine can be benigb or it can be a mean body of water. For my passage it was both. The prevailing wind is from the southwest, exactly where I was headed. The distance to Provincetown is about 350 nm from Lunenburg, and the trip can be made in a Flicka in 4 days. The first hundred miles is just to get clear of Nova Scotia. The currents were generally adverse in the returning direction. It is important to get out at least 30 miles in order to not get sucked into the massive tides on the north side in the Bay of Fundy (65 feet vertical). The first two days of sailing were benign with winds from the southeast. I made 185 miles. Then I had a day of heavy wind pretty much on the nose, with large waves, but still made another 90 miles.

On the night of the third day a weather front came though bringing with it thunder storms. I took 3 cells of the storms, the first hitting with my sails up and slamming Jubilee nearly flat. I got the jib down and then the second cell hit before I could get down the mainsail. I clocked the wind in this one at about 35 kts. I fortunately got the main down before the third cell arrived. I rode out this cell, with lightening flashing all around and winds well in excess of 40 kts on bare poles, slumped down seated on the cockpit floor. Junilee took this all in stride. The final cell lasted only 20 minutes. It was 9 PM. I was tired and drifted off to sleep in the cockpit.

When I woke at 11 PM the night was crystal clear and a 10 kt breeze was filling in from the northwest. The moon was full and the scene was indescribably beautifyl, I raised the sails and got comfortable swated (or slumped) in the "barco lounger" on the leeward side, on a starboard tack close hauled, the full moon 45 degrees off my port bow. This became the most magical moment of my passage, and I must tell you about it.

I am sailing along on the leeward side, heeled comfortably, drifting into a transcendental state. I am fully in the moment, yet in another world. I am aware of the water and the wind and the motion of the boat over the confused sea. I am more than aware. I am fully, completely, a part of it, inseparable, and in tune. I may have slept some...I don't consciousness wandered, drifting lazily along... This lasted a couple of hours. I will never forget it. Then, around 1 AM, I became aware that Jubilee was heeling much more. The winf had strengthened to 15 to 20 kts. I snapped out of my meditation and put one reef, and then a second, in the mainsail, and went back to sleep.

As the sun rose around 4:30 the wind died. I tried cranking the engine but it would not catch and sustain itself. I figured maybe I had run out of fuel, but my calculations told me this was unlikely. So I figured maybe there was some residual trash in the fuel or maybe I had taken water into the fuel air vent at the bow. I waited and then tried again and again. No engine. I was just 15 miles off from the buoy where I would turn at the northern tip of Cape Cod toward Provincetown, and probably just 30 miloes from Provincetown. I waited until 10:30 before calling for a tow. I was drifting toward some reefs.

The BoatUS tow service from Provincetown arrived at 1:30 PM. Meanwhile I had called by satellite phone into the U.S. Customs office to announce my impending arrival. The gal on the phone wanted to call me back but could not on the sat phone. An hour into the tow, at about 7 kts, I again called Customs and was informed that I could not get clearance in Provincetown, that I would have to go to Plymouth, on the west side of Cape Cod to clear. "But my brother-in-law, Bill Tumlin, is in Provincetown waiting to sail with me to Newport", I protested. "He can't get on your boat in Provincetown" she said. So, I called Bill and asked him to meet me in Plymouth and then told the tow boat to tow mme to Plymouth.

After 5 1/2 hours in tow, Jubilee and I arrived in Plymouth at 7 PM where I attached to the customs mooring to await boarding by the customs officials who arrived in short order. Clearance took only a few minutes. Meanwhile I had figured out the problem with my engine. After the third cell hit I had cut the engine but in my fatigue I had failed to properly return the engine-stopping handle to its correct, re-stert, position. Not wanting to admit this embarrassing error, I accepted the customs offer for an escort to the Brewers Marina.

I slep that night on the boat at brewers gas dock, and Bill remained at Provincetown for the night. The next day Bill took a bus to Plymouth and we got a room at the Governor Bradford Inn and walked about the town, seeing what by lore is supposed to be the original Plymouth Rock where the Pilgrims landed December 20, 1620.

We departed Plymouth with the ebbing tide the following morning at 7 o'clock. The wind was clam so we motored down to the Cape Cod Canal, arriving there just before high tide at 11:30. The timing was perfect. The canal ebbing tide runs east to west, our direction. At times we exceeded 7 kts with the help of the tidal current, quickly transiting the 7 nm of canal length. The light breeze was, of course, on the nose from the southwest so we continued using the motor toward Newport in Buzzard's Bay.

Around 4 PM the fog closed in around us. We vhad the radar going but neither of us knew how to read it. We put up the radar reflector in the rigging and got out the ship's bell. Happily the AIS (Automatic Identification System) was working and it identified all commercial traffic for us and identified us to all commercial traffic. The AIS was a great investment, much better than radar as it flashes warnings on the GPS, identifies the other vessels by name, shows their location on the GPS screen and shows their direction and speed. Wonderfully comforting in pea soup fog.

We came into Newport Harbor at 2 AM, pitch black conditions in a fully enveloping miasma of dense fog. We managed to work or way slowly through the field of multi-million dollar yachts until we found a vacant mooring to which we tied up. We went to sleep, Bill on the sole of the cabin and me in the cockpit in my bivy sack. At 8 o'clock we motored over to Bannisters Wharf and tied up and rented a room.

This would e the end of Woody's Passage.

A month of sailing mostly at sea has been enough for me to realize my dream of making a long passage in a small boat. Crossing the Gulf of Maine solo was enough to scratch the itch for a solo passage. I am tired. It now is time for me to conclude this chapter in my life. I am more a racing sailor than a cruiser. I have now seen enough of bad weather at sea to know that I do not want to be caught out there in a 20-foot sailboat, even in a Flicka, in an extended or really serious storm. I get frustrated with a full day or more of calm wind, especially when this condition is accompanied with a sloppy state of sea. I get frustrated with multiple days of adverse wind direction in the face of short-period wave conditions. I had a schedule to meet, with various friends and relatives meeting me at different places to sail a leg for a few days, and this compelled me to press forward to stay on schedule or revise the plan at inconvenience to those expecting to sauil with me. Cruising should be done without a schedule.

I am safe and happily satisfied with my journey and with Jubilee. I coupld not have done this without the support of my family and many friends. To all who have helped to make my dream happen successfully, I am eternally grateful.

I am leaving Jubilee at a mooring near Newport today. She is for sale, and I will deliver her with her trailer to any location on the East U.S. or Canadian coast. Anyone interested in buying her shoould contact me at .

I will return to Atlanta tomorrow and return with Jubilee's trailer in mid-July ready to deliver her to her next lucky owner. She is priced to sell quickly.

June 29, 2010

Friday, June 25, 2010

Soggy OREOs & Sea Tow

Day #31, June 25, 2010
Time of Report: multiple reports over the last 24hours

Woody has been in survival mode, dealing with some serious thunderstorms that finally subsided around 11pm last night. A storm snuck up on him from out of no where and knocked him and the boat down. He was under full sail and looked at his his anemometer and and saw 37 knots. The sky was crazy and once the boat righted he called BT who had just arrived in Portland Maine. He asked BT what was going on and how many more storms were on the way. BT was looking at the Doppler and said "quite a few and there is a severe storm watch going on now and people are being advised to take cover". BT called our pilot friend, Chris for more details and he said it was going to be pretty rough for the next couple of hours, on and off. Woody tried taking down the sails so he could simply ride it out but the next storm cell came too quickly and kncked him down again. He said there was a lot of lightening. He called BT again and then finally was able to get the sails down. Before Woody hung up BT said, why don't u call me a little later after u survive the next storm and Woody replied that the next call he may make would be to the coast guard. Not too much later BT got another call from Woody who reported that his Oreo cookies were soggy. BT said "at first i thought he had gone mad, completely undone and then I heard him laugh and said to him 'i see u have your sense of humor back Wood Bones'". The weather settled down and the night turnrd calm for a little while. Woody hoisted the sails again and off he went! The wind started building again and Woody had enough fun for one day and therefore cranked the motor and caught a couple of hours of some much needed shut eye.

At 2245 z yesterday he was 60miles from Cape Cod and today, mid day he was about 15 miles from the Cape and tried cranking the engine again because the wind died, but due to a fuel problem, it did not start. he decided to call Sea Tow to get towed in. A minor detail that was overlooked was where he would clear customs and Provinetwon, where BT is now awaiting Woody is not a US Custom staffed port. He could dock at Oops! So Sea Tow is towing him another 20 miles or so to Plymouth (just like the pilgrims) and he should arrive there this evening around 7pm. He and BT will connect tomorrow and take it easy for the day and then on Sunday, set sail for Newport. Hopefully we will get a blog post from Woody while he at port.

I'm glad he is safe and will soon be in the company of one of his very best friend and longest friends, BT.


Thursday, June 24, 2010

Day 28 Report - Norwood Time

Day #28, Tuesday, June 23, 2010
Time of Report: 2200 Z
Position: 42.37, -67.17
Heading: Southwest
Speed: Not reported

BT called me today, just after 5pm EST in a bit of a panic. Despite the 6 hours Comcast (our trusty cable company here in Marietta, GA) spent at his house yesterday, his internet was out and he needed to get the weather report for Woody. BT takes this job very seriously and for the first couple of weeks, he waited by the phone each day for Woody's call at 5:00pm. We all move in different rhythms and consistency in call times from Woody has not been a reality. This should have come as no shock, as Woody has never been known in our family for his timeliness, in fact, BT has trademarked "Norwood time" - but not just because of Woody, a couple of others in the family have similar traits (and I'm not namin' names). Low and behold, wouldn't you know it, today, he did call at exactly 5pm, and this was probably the first time BT wasn't ready with the report. Damn internet! Luckily I only live approximately 1 nautical mile (which is 1.15 statute miles) from the BTs so he was here within minutes to check the weather and prepare his report for Woody.

The weather was rough today, with lots of rain and winds between 25 - 30 knots. The fog has been very thick as well. The thought of cold rain, combined with strong wind and fog makes me shiver. Woody was getting a little concerned about the possibility of hypothermia, but was able to get in the cabin, change into some dry clothes and warm up a bit. Hydration and food consumption is important too. He also started increasing his movement around the boat, keeping himself more active moving which increased his body temperature, and made him start feeling better.

By this evening the winds had settled to 15 - 20 knots but had shifted to the West, Southwest, which means it's right on the nose (he's heading right into it). This will slow him down in reaching his destination. At the time of the report, he was 134 nm from the outside buoy at Cape Cod, and his ETA into Provincetown is now Friday afternoon.

No report on what he had for dinner. I'm picking BT up tomorrow (Thurs) to drive him to the Atlanta airport for his flight to MA to catch up with Woody, and I think I'll slip a little care package into his duffel bag. Will a can of chicken noodle soup make it through airport security? I'm guessing not, but I bet a can of SPAM will!

In honor of this part of Woody's voyage, being that it is solo (even though it wasn't originally planned to be), I'll close with this quote, by author Jules Verne:

"The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides."

Peace ~ Tracy

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Michelin Man Look-alike headed towards Provincetown

Day #27, Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Time of Report: 2100 Z
Position: 43.13, -65.37
Heading: Down the coast of Nova Scotia
Speed: Slow, winds are light and motor is on

Woody reported in to both weather reporter, BT and the communications/blogger team around 5pm EST Tuesday and informed us that he had traveled roughly 90 miles from his time of departure which was on Monday and was just passing the tip of Nova Scotia. He had accomplished this with the sails up but due to a lack of wind, he had been motoring most of the time. He had about 250 nm left to go to Provincetown which is his next destination and he expects to be there on Thursday. Weather reporter BT (who is Woody's brother-in-law and my father) will be arriving in Provincetown, MA on Thursday evening to sail the next leg.

I asked Woody how it was being solo on this leg and he said "well, it takes a lot longer to do things!". He spoke of the division of labor he and JD had mastered and he also mentioned that is is being more conservative (whew!). The winds were expecting to build through the night, so Woody planned to do a sail change before the sun set to a smaller sail. This way, when he has it on auto-pilot, and sleeping in the cockpit, the boat won't be as overpowered. Woody described looking like the Michelin Man, as he is wrapped up in as many clothes as he can fit on his body. He said staying warm is a big challenge. The temperature is in the low 50s to high 40s during the day and drops into the 30s during the night. Brrr!

Without JD on board to cook, dinner consisted of a couple of packs of M&Ms, crackers, sardines, an apple, plum and potato chips. We'll see how he does when BT comes aboard with the dinners!

All and all, Woody seemed to be in good spirits but sounded tired. A good rest once he gets into Provincetown will be in order!

More Soon ~ Tracy ;)