an infrequent repository of mostly new stuff
Dennis ghosting into the river.
It’s damp and quiet at the small private marina, the sun still low and weak. The other boats are rigged up and waiting, but with no wind no one is in a hurry. We mill around in sweatshirts with hands warming in pockets as the mist burns off. In a few minutes I’ve launched and we’re off.
Fog in the valleys, Albemarle County
It’s still dark and I’m heading again for the Chickahominy. The sun has not yet risen and fog, blue and cold, is curled up in the valleys, sleeping over creeks and streams. There is frost in the hollows. When the sun finally breaks the tree line it sets a veil of mist over a farmer’s pond on fire as I pass.
Dark road, sunrise.
It is late in the year to be sailing, even here in Virginia. The last day of October, All Hallows Eve. But a handful of us are meeting at the confluence of the Chick and the James to squeeze in a few more sails before winter. Caesura was freshly varnished for MASCF in St. Michaels before it was cancelled ahead of Hurricane Joaquin. She got one good day of sailing at Janes Island on the Eastern Shore on the consolation trip. I’m hoping to get her out a couple of times this weekend.
The other guys arrived mid-week, staying overnight with Harris and Barbara, who are graciously hosting us all. They had a good day of sailing yesterday, I hear. I’ll meet them at the marina by 9, taking Route 5, the old plantation road along the James for much of the way.
When I enter Harris’ neighborhood there’s an unexpected delay. People of all shapes and sizes, and ages, are jogging toward me up the road. In costume. Skeletons, ghosts, giant lizards, fairies, etc.. Not all are exactly jogging. Some are more bobbing vigorously as they walk, which sort of gives the impression they are jogging. It looks like some kind of charity run.
Dour looking sheriff’s deputies direct traffic off to the side, taking it a little too seriously. Police cruisers with lights popping off are escorting cars slowly around the procession. Perhaps I just need more coffee.
Harris with a tailwind in Mabu
It’s now gusting over 20 knots, and waves are building quickly. With the second reef tied in, and the chicken jibe out of the way, we have the wind and waves spanking us in the backside. Essentially this is now a five boat drag race across the river, all running for the mouth of the canal.
We’re way out ahead because we started first, but the other boats are coming really fast. It’s not a dead downwind run, which is no fun, but a very broad reach. Still, the Caledonia is amazingly well-behaved. This is probably the biggest wind Harris has had the boat in so far, and I can tell he’s both nervous about how she’ll handle and pleased with the results. Whitecaps are starting to break around us, charging in from the Sound.
This is video from the morning and early afternoon, up to just before the wind really kicked up and we decided to tie in another reef.
Great sailing. Here’s the whole track:
The next post and video will pick up where this leaves off.
Harris at the tiller of Mabu
Unlike last time we were here, there is no argument over which direction we’ll go today: North. The wind will continue out of the Northwest – sensible in the morning but build steadily throughout the day to something very unsensible. I’ve always heard old sailors say the wind is strongest on the backside of a cold front. This prediction bears that out.
Based on the forecast, I plan to explore the marshes inside Janes Island in the Melonseed, staying clear of big water, but Harris suggests I ride with him. He has a sparkling new Caledonia Yawl, Mabu, bulit by Geoff Kerr of Two Daughters Boatworks in Maine. Sounds good to both of us. I’ll be free to take photos again, and he might like two sets of hands when the wind pipes up, especially in a new ride. Continue reading “Janes Island ~ Bright Sun, Big Wind”
They’ve redone all the bathrooms at the park. Now they’re nicer than we have at home. Pretty sad when taking the wife for a camping trip is a step up in the world.
So nice, that critters have taken up residence. This little fellow greeted us in the showers in the morning. I stood in the door to the stall, staring at this thing on the wall, trying to get my half-caffeinated brain to register what it was. Too compact for a spider. Shiny and green. Are any spiders shiny and green?
It moved. It dropped with a plop. A Green Tree Frog, Hyla cinerea, and a pretty big one. Dude was having a tough go of it. Scalding hot water would probably do him in. I scooped him up and put him in the shaving kit while the cleansing operation proceeded.
Turned him loose by the campsite. He took a shine to the water jug before heading off into the woods.
Shore Pines
Within two hours of docking in gusty grey drizzle, the sky is swept clear of clouds and blue as the deep end of a swimming pool. The cold front that brought the rain has pushed it all out ahead of it. We have a completely different day. All that remains is the wind, which blows unabated.
Continue reading “Janes Island ~ Clearing, Crabs & Crescents”