an infrequent repository of mostly new stuff
Found this on my phone this evening, and realized I never posted it.
Shot on October 10, 2024, in the hay field next to the house.
I walked out in the dark, not expecting much, so wasn’t prepared for what I saw. No camera or tripod. I took off my shoes to prop up my phone on a hay bale. I stood there barefoot in the wet grass, shaking from cold and wonder.
This time lapse comes from that improvised rig.
On Sunday morning, many with long drives hauled out. A few of us, locals or those staying over, headed out to take advantage of the great weather with another sail. Chris H came all the way from Pittsburg, so he was staying another day to make it worth the trip. He invited me to join him on his Vivier Ilur Clarissa. Dennis K got a ride on Randy C’s William Garden designed Eel, Winkle. Harris and Barbara led the way in their new catboat, Mariah, just delivered mid-summer.
It was a real treat for me to be able to lay in the boat and let Chris do all the work, while I enjoyed the view. It let me keep both hands on the camera for a change. And what a great day for it. Beautiful boats and beautiful weather.
All three boats danced around each other all afternoon. Sometimes coming together close enough to chat, then veering off to points on the horizon. With the chuckle of water on a lapstrake hull tapping time.
As usual, most of our views of Harris were of his transom. He can’t bear to slow down enough for us to get close.
I shot a lot of video. Something to savor over the coming winter.
Between the cookout and campfires, Jim A took four of us for a sunset sail on his family’s Sakonnet 23. What a sweet boat, a real thoroughbred designed by Joel White.
We motored out the little harbor, through a neck of rock jetties, just as the sun went down. Clear of the channel, we quickly raised sail and cut off the clattering outboard. Suddenly silence like a sigh of relief as she eased into a light breeze. We sauntered across the water in the twilight, taking turns at the tiller, laughing and telling stories.
With the last light fading, we reluctantly turned back, only to discover the outboard motor had other ideas. Wouldn’t catch no matter how hard we yanked on it, not even a cough. It was like some jokester had poured a couple to shots of scotch in the tank. Matt tossed out the anchor so we wouldn’t drift into trouble, while we sought the magic combination of curses and hand waving to break the evil spell. This whole episode followed a dozen shared stories of near disasters, all because a motor had failed. Maybe this motor was listening and thought this was a great opportunity to tell its own story. The idea of waiting for a tow, anchored in the channel in the dark, but not our idea of humor. Motors are why we’re sailors, after all.
Eventually, jiggling the choke and throttle, it caught. Relief, anchor weighed, sails dropped, and we motored back down the channel by the light from our phones. No harm no foul, and another story to tell later.
A short video from inside the boat that evening. Lots of laughter and ribbing. A great evening. Hope we get to ride on her again, soon.
direct YouTube link: https://youtu.be/VJ306yMVaLs
A nice reprieve from the middle of winter. This is 20+ minutes of sites and sounds from the salt marshes of Mathews County, Virginia. A week on a remote barrier island in the Chesapeake Bay. Over the holidays I had time to go back and review it.
We spent a lot of time kayaking through the shallow winding creeks, often just drifting with the current.
It’s long, so give yourself some time, and good audio – much of this is just the natural sounds of birds and beaches.
The odd noises starting at 12:00 are Clapper Rails. They’re really shy, I’ve never seen one up close, but one stepped out of the grass for a closeup, not realizing we were standing above it on the dock.
Birds seen and/or heard in the video:
At night, there were Great Horned Owls, in the mornings Loons.
A few weeks ago I posted photos from this little trip. I woke up before sunrise and couldn’t go back to sleep, so went for a paddle on Totier Creek.
There was steam rising off the water as the sun came up, a little chilly, but I had the whole place to myself. Just a glorious fall day. Leaves in peak color, glassy calm water, birds singing. So worth it.
Back up the creek I came across some Wood Ducks. They’re shy birds, and this was the first time I’ve seen one up close in the wild here. Even got a little video to prove it.
I could use a lot more of this, please.
direct YouTube link: Melonseeds Off Urbanna
Short clips from the trip. I didn’t have the wind cover for the mic, so as not much natural audio this time, but enough to feel right. Doug provided the nice clip of me as we crossed tacks along the bluff below Rosegill.
You can see how lumpy it was when we first left the harbor. Lots of bucking into the wind until the tide turned.
A dozen or so handmade wooden sailboats gather every spring at an old steamboat landing on the Piankatank River, a tidal river on the Chesapeake Bay. Sailors in the Old Bay Club of the Traditional Small Craft Association meet up with builders from the Deltaville Maritime Museum to camp and sail and admire beautiful craftsmanship.
Seen here are Caledonia Yawls, a Sooty Tern, Chesapeake Sharpie Crabbing Skiff, Melonseed, Matinicus Peapod, and a Herreshoff Coquina. As well as a few notable power boats of crabbers and fishermen.