After an amazingly fast beat to windward of 70 mph at times, Moga and I found ourselves in Kure Beach just below Wilmington, North Carolina for a week at the beach with my folks. Every day we’d drive 2 or 3 miles down the shore and find a nice spot to set up. I pulled out one poor soul in a two wheel drive SUV and later got a bit stuck myself, although we easily drove out after dropping the tires down to 15 psi. It’s a nice place, but it’s also an expensive tourist trap. Parking is ridiculous ($8 per hour, 2 hour minimum, 10% “service” fee), food is expensive, and the off road permit is highway robbery at $30 on weekends and $20 on weekdays. I’m used to a 10 day pass up at Hatteras which is $50. The first thing I noticed when we arrived was the tides in this area are around 5′ which is way more than the foot or so in my neck of the Chesapeake Bay. I felt a bit apprehensive about a potential daysail over on the Cape Fear river. At least somehow the boat ramps turned out to be free!

Last fall I managed to snag an East German Freiberger trommel sextant for $150. I really have no need for a sextant, but I’ve always been fascinated by using the sky as a clock to figure out where you are. I figured I’d play around with it some, then sell it for what it should go for and put the money towards building Long Steps. I also had some delusions about trying to get a fix while dinghy cruising, but after doing the sight reductions I’m not sure that’s going to happen.

After some false starts with Youtube videos and websites that talk to you like you already know what you’re doing, I eventually found thenauticalalmanac.com and their Complete Sun Sight Reduction Procedure pdf. It goes into excruciating detail with examples and over the next two evenings I worked my way through the four sights to eventually arrive at the numbers I needed: assumed position longitude, intercept, and Zn. I did cheat on the dead reckoned latitude by using the GPS coordinates, but let’s just assume I’ve been keeping track of my course. Note to self: don’t forget to convert local time to UTC before doing all the calculations, and despite the name the assumed position longitude isn’t whatever you want it to be.

Finally on the third evening I plotted my line of position and found my first sight was… wait for it… 57 nautical miles off of my true position. Thankfully the other three were only .25, 1.75, and 5.5 nm off. Eventually I realized my error in sight #1 was writing 50º instead of 52º. There’s no way the sun moves 2 degrees in 5 minutes. So, now all I need to do is account for three days of drifting while I was busy figuring out where I used to be!

The wind on Thursday was forecast to be southerly at 10 to 15 all day, so my plan was to first motor south through the marsh down to Bald Head and get a picture of the lighthouse. Then I would hoist the sails and head up the Cape Fear River and along the way I’d swing by a small ruined lighthouse beside the Southport ferry terminal. Next, over to Battery Buchanan at Federal Point for some family history and then up through Snow’s Cut to a boat ramp on the eastern side of Pleasure Island.

I launched at 8 am from the Federal Point boat ramp and started motoring south. With the shallow water of the outgoing tide, unfamiliar narrow channels, and wind directly against me I figured there was no point in even trying to sail. The marsh is protected by a 3 mile line of rocks called… “The Rocks” which was built after the Civil War to tame the shoaling in the river. I imagine at high tide these things are underwater just waiting to rip your hull open.

It’s pretty shallow in places (maybe impassable at fully low tide?) and I relied on my centerboard centrally mounted, adjustable height depth finder to stay in the deeper water and protect the trolling motor. I knew there’d be a lot of motoring today, so I kept it to 150 watts. From testing I know that will push me at 3.8 mph for 15 miles in perfect conditions and since I planned to go 9-10 miles I figured that would give me some safety margin.

Lots of tight squeezes and I had to backtrack a few times since it was getting on for slack tide. Most of the marsh was thick piles of mud with jagged oyster shells sticking out. I think all the guys fishing back in here thought I was crazy. I thought one guy was being polite when he dropped down to hull speed as he approached me from behind. He gave me a good once over and then gunned it leaving me a steep wake to negotiate with no time to turn into it. He wasn’t the only oblivious person I ran into today.

I saw these towers all over today, I think they are range lights to help ships stay in the channel.

Eventually I made it out into the the Cape Fear River and just a straight shot to Bald Head, right? I mean, the lighthouse is right there on the horizon.

Not so fast, I had to bump my way through some 6″ water, backtrack, and get out and pull once. Straight ahead is the entrance to Bald Head Creek and at high tide there’d be plenty of water to get over the sandbar. My paper chart didn’t show some of these shoals and it was tough to see them on the satellite map on my phone’s screen in the bright sunlight.

Eventually I made my way up the creek past a row of multi million dollar houses and a herd of kayakers. Old Baldy was built in 1817 and is the oldest lighthouse in North Carolina. It was pretty windy on the river so on the way out I decided to see what would happen with the jib only. Plus I had all day to get up to the boat ramp, so speed wasn’t too much of an issue.

I headed across the inlet and started to realize ferries were all aver the place. There’s a constant loop of them from Bald Head to Southport to Fort Fisher. I have very little experience being around big commercial boats like this, so I generally tried to hug the right hand side of the channel. It was surprising how quickly you can go from deep water to scraping the bottom.

Up the river a thunderstorm was brewing and I caught a glimpse of a flash of lightning. About 10 minutes later someone on the radio reported their boat was hit, but fortunately no injuries. Pretty shallow water through there. When planning the trip I thought I might be able to pick my way through to cut the corner, but once I was here it didn’t seem like a good idea to try.

Made the turn around Battery Island doing 4 mph. By now the tide had turned and was helping me along. My jib is 23 square feet so not all that big, but it was nice to see what it could do. I saw someone walking along the beach and thought it was strange since the island is closed for bird nesting during the summer. I figured maybe it was ok if you stayed below the high tide line, but shortly someone got on the radio to tattle to the Coast Guard.

Up closer to the ferry terminal the channel gets narrower and I really tried to stay out of everyone’s way. Ferries were going by left and right and there was a steady stream of huge yachts heading north.

I much preferred the traffic of a flock of pelicans flying by.

Up near the ferry terminal I swung in to get a picture of Price’s Creek lighthouse which dates to 1850. This is the last remnant of a system of range lights that guided ships up the river to Wilmington. It was a bit of a risky detour since I couldn’t sail upwind and the wind and current were moving me along at a pretty good clip, so I lowered the trolling motor and got ready to make a hasty departure.

When the centerboard started bumping the bottom I declared the photo op over and gave the trolling motor the full 30 amps and we escaped from being embayed by the shoreline and a long pier leading to an ADM food processing plant. Up near those piling I hit some wild waves. I guess the normal waves bent around and interfered with each other because it felt like being in a washing machine with waves popping up and disappearing all around.

After I got back in the channel I started following the map and ticking off buoys while keeping out of the way of ferries and spoil islands.

Next I cut over towards the Fort Fisher ferry terminal close to where I launched. That mound of sand with the two trees is what’s left of Battery Buchanan which was a Civil War earthwork guarding the New Inlet. At that time it was one of two entrances into the Cape Fear River which was vitally important for the Confederacy since Wilmington was the last port blockade runners could use to deliver supplies and export goods.

My great great grandfather was unfortunately on the wrong side during the Civil War, but as a history lover it has been fascinating teasing out the details of his service. He started out in a light artillery unit, transferred to the Merrimac for the battle with the Monitor, guarded Fort Sumter for a year, served on the ironclad Fredericksburg and commerce raider Chickamauga, and finally manned Battery Buchanan during the battle of Fort Fisher where he was hit in the leg resulting in its amputation.

The battery was armed with two 11″ Brooke smoothbores and two 10″ Columbiads. The Brooke guns weighed nearly 12 tons and the Columbiads nearly 8. He was wounded during the first battle presumably when they repulsed Union ships dragging the inlet for torpedos. I’ve always wondered which gun he was on… those two outside ones had a 180º field of fire but little protection.

Here’s a view from the top looking toward what was once the New Inlet with the Cape Fear river on the right. That parking lot is the boat ramp where I launched. Hard to imagine that just up the road at Fort Fisher was the biggest naval bombardment and amphibious assault until D-Day. Apparently 50,000 shells were fired at it over the two battles.

Anyway, with that family history detour out of the way I started back up the river. By this point the winds were getting a bit lighter so I stopped to run up the spritsail. I’d put a preemptive reef in when I rigged at the boat ramp and decided to leave it in since I noticed the wind tended to pick up later in the afternoon. Along the way the 750′ 3,800 TEU Polar Costa Rica container ship passed me going from Wilmington to Savanah. I have never been this close to anything so huge and even though there was plenty of room, it was still a little terrifying.

After he passed, I idly watched the wake wash up on the spoil island ahead with a continuous rumble. Then as I got closer I saw the ripple from the tanker turn into two feet of foaming water rushing right towards me! I quickly realized that when I turned to nose into the wave I’d be sailing by the lee, so I jibed and shifted my weight aft to help raise the bow. Right before the wave hit I just knew I’d have a mountain of water over the bow.

Suddenly the bow was pointed at the sky, the rub rails blasted the water out to the side, and then a quick slam back down as the sails went “whooomp” and everything was ok. I doubt a dozen drops of spray made it in.

After surviving the tanker wake I headed back down the channel ticking off the buoys. A buddy of mine is a photographer so I photoshopped two pages of charts together into one big one and had him print it off on his 3′ printer. So much easier than squinting at my phone screen in the sun! Off to the left is the Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point and they have a large restricted area along the west bank of the river right out to the channel. When researching I was a little worried I might accidentally wander into it, but there are plenty of signs close together to let you know.

After about 3 miles of mostly having the river to myself I made a right for the long narrow channel to Snow’s Cut. Plenty of powerboats flying along through here. It was pretty obvious I needed to keep green on the right, but I didn’t understand until later that in the ICW you keep greens on your right to go north. And the yellow splotch signifies it’s an ICW buoy.

Blasting along on a broad reach at 7-7.5 mph was the fastest sailing of the day. With the reefed mainsail I didn’t even have to get on the side deck to hike once! I think this might be the first time I haven’t had to hike like my life depended on it.

Into Snow’s Cut. This was dug in 1930 to connect the Cape Fear River to Myrtle Grove Sound and avoid the Frying Pan Shoals which stretch out 30 miles from Cape Fear. I managed to sail about halfway through before the wind became pretty flukey.

The jet skis flying through here were insane, but I guess that’s to be expected when there’s a jet ski rental place on both ends of the cut.

Eventually I gave up trying to sail and lowered the trolling motor. Up by the bridge little eddies were forming around the piling and I feel like the tide must be meeting in the middle because it was definitely helping me before.

Eventually I made it to the ramp and anchored and got everything tidied up. Perfect timing since my wife and folks were just driving off the beach. I sat back to finish my lunch (does anyone else just not have time to eat when sailing?) and watch pelicans dive into the water just off the port bow. I must have been in prime real estate.

I’ve been really impressed with the trolling motor setup. The model airplane propeller has worked really well, maybe 1/4″ of the tips have gotten chewed up but I just round it over with a file periodically. Today I motored 11.5 miles and consumed right at 614 Wh of energy. From my motor testing I thought 50 Wh per mile would be a good estimate for planning purposes and I was glad to see that the real world result of 53 Wh per mile matches pretty well. Especially since I was mostly motoring against a pretty decent breeze. All in all I went 27.8 miles in 8 hours with a top speed of 7.6 mph.

And the day just wouldn’t be complete without one last oblivious person. As dad was backing the trailer into the water and I’m motoring toward him, a lady on the dock decides it’s the perfect time to throw a cast net directly between us. I made no effort to slow down or avoid it, so she reeled it in pretty quick!

Launching at a boat landing on the Piankatank River. It’s just a gravel ramp at the end of a road and there’s no dock, but it works well enough. Pretty popular with the 12′ jon boat crowd.

I motored over to a nearby dock at a friend’s house for the night with my trolling motor setup I’ve been working on lately. It did well, powering me at 3.5 – 4 mph with 185 watts of power and the stock propeller. Eventually I plan to get a better battery, PWM controller, and a 10 x 6 model airplane propellor to improve efficiency.

Rigged and ready to go for a pre sunrise start. Everything was still and quiet when I launched other than the slight hum of the motor and water gurgling by.

The plan was to head out into the Chesapeake Bay and sail south 50 miles to Fort Monroe where my wife would pick me up. The forecasted winds showed a broad reach on port tack all day long, although I was a bit concerned about the 15-20 mph wind speed.

Heading down the Piankatank with a preemptive reef in. A group of three dolphins puffed their way by as I was beginning to wonder if the reef was really necessary.

As I rounded the corner and saw the open bay in the distance I started hitting some gusts that made me thankful I started out with a reef.

Heading toward the bay on a close reach and the wind was starting to pick up. The waves were choppy and I had to hike hard and let the main luff at times. Off Stove Point I briefly turned around and the conditions improved so much on a broad reach that I decided once I got around Gwynn’s Island things would be ok. As you can see from the map, that was not to be the case!

I made it through some bigger waves at the mouth of the Piankatank and turned south for Fort Monroe. Things did get a bit better after the wet and windy beat into the bay, but the waves were still pretty big. Maybe 2-3 feet? They’d hit the back quarter and slew the boat a bit, so steering took my constant attention. Unfortunately water got on my phone’s camera lens so the rest of the few pictures I took are a bit blurry. Moving along at 5.5 to 6 mph.

The water in the boat was gradually building up because I didn’t have time or enough hands to bail it out. Most of this was due to spray, but later towards the end of Gwynn’s Island a large wave broke over the port side and dumped a truly concerning amount of water into the boat. I could tell I was sitting pretty low and the free surface effect made everything sluggish. Each additional wave splashed a bit more water in and I realized I was soon going to swamp. I managed to get pointed into the wind and did the best I could to heave to and bailed like crazy. Some of the waves were definitely 3′ and occasionally breaking so it took some steering to stay pointed into them. A few times water came over the bow which set me back, but not enough I couldn’t keep up with the bailing.

Eventually I got the water down and had to make a decision. Do I continue on for Fort Monroe and risk this again? Or make for the nearest boat ramp and admit defeat? Fortunately common sense prevailed so I headed for the “Hole in the Wall,” a narrow channel through the sand bars below Gwynn’s Island just under a mile away. I turned onto a starboard tack and started blasting downhill toward it. I hit a new top speed of 10.3 mph and averaged 7 to 8 mph all the way through.

The waves calmed down significantly once I got into the channel and I could finally breathe again with the realization that I would probably make it home in one piece.

I was so relieved (and exhausted) to have made it that I started down the wrong creek! I got most of the way up to Mathew’s Yacht Club on Stutt’s Creek before realizing things didn’t look quite right, so I tacked out and headed up Milford Haven.

The sandbar is a popular beach spot, but today I was thankful it was shielding me from the waves on the bay.

Getting closer to the ramp I came across the recently approved oyster farm a bunch of people were raising sam hill about in the local newspaper’s letters to the editor. I agree it’s pretty ugly and it did get in the way of my tack, but then again fried oysters are just about my favorite food so I can’t complain too much.

Up near the ramp I had a chance to try my lightweight aluminum anchor I’ve been working on. My folding fisherman design is a bit too complicated for its own good, so I used the same geometry on a three piece take apart version. It dug in immediately and held well, although to be fair it was a pretty ideal anchoring setup. Then I tidied up the boat and got all the lines coiled while I waited for my wife to arrive. The boat ramp was chaos as usual, but fortunately my car and trailer are small so I could weave my way around the people who can’t back up. I ended up going 24.1 miles over 5.25 hours with an average speed of 4.6 mph.

And one last picture of how the anchor comes apart. The fluke assembly locks onto the 12.5º included angle tapered end of the 1/4″ thick shank. Then the stock assembly slip fits down to the shoulder and is secured by a carabiner on the anchor rode. I think the taper could be increased a tad since the fluke assembly can get really stuck on there, but a few taps with a block of wood will knock it loose.

The plans! Thumbing through I feel a little terrified of how much more work it’ll be to build than the First Mate, but I think this should be a lifetime boat. I’m feeling surprisingly ok with the idea that I won’t be keeping my First Mate once I’m done. I probably won’t start building until the end of 2023 or so, and it might be a bit of a slow project considering my 8 month old son Henry is starting to take off and get into everything.

I’m still up in New Jersey after helping my in laws move, so I thought I’d go on a long solo adventure. This time the weather looked like I might be able to do a 40 mile trip down Barnegat Bay with a side diversion through some marshy islands over to the inlet to see the lighthouse. Then I’d continue on down most of the length of LBI to a public ramp in the marsh above Great Bay. Due to light wind at the start, getting lost in the marshy islands, and relying on my father in law for transportation I decided to call it quits around 3:30pm and head for Leamings Marina as one of my bailout points. I did 29.2 miles in 9 hours 10 minutes with an average speed of 3.2 mph and a max of 7.3 mph.

I launched at the Trader’s Cove municipal ramp right at the foot of the bridge to Mantoloking for the cool sum of $20. Just after I left two guys and a support boat set out on a swim. I wonder if they had to pay the launch fee.

The wind was pretty light and I made 1-2 mph. The swimmers gradually splashed their way out of sight!

Then the wind got even lighter and I drifted along at .5-1 mph.

About halfway to the bridge to Seaside Heights I came across an abandoned house on Middle Sedge Island. In 2015 it was put up for sale for 6.5 million. I think it’d be a pretty cool place to live for about three days before the bugs, screeching seagulls, and bird poop got to be a bit much.

Closer to the bridge the wind died down to a whisper so I started up my trolling motor. This is a new addition I’ve been working on for a few months. With the recent addition of my son, my wife has insisted I take a motor with me. I’ve never felt great about my British Seagull so lately I’ve been working on building a trolling motor setup.

The control box has an ammeter, volt meter, usb charger, and speed control knob within easy reach. I also cut the head off the trolling motor and shortened the shaft so it’s waterproof and not as in the way. The motor bracket needs some improvement, but overall I’m pretty happy with it. Speed 3 added about 2 mph to the boat speed.

Once I got through the bridge the wind finally shifted and I had some great sailing at 4.5-5.5 mph for nearly two hours. When I’m done with the trolling motor I turn it 90º sideways and lift it straight up. The shaft stays out of the way of the boom and the motor clears the water.

I set my sights on the decidedly rectangular Barnegat Lighthouse off on the horizon and started dodging boat wakes from the scores of motor boats heading over to beaches on Barnegat Peninsula. I saw a cigarette boat roaring up and down the bay with a wall of spray that must have been at least 5 boat lengths long.

From poking around on Google Earth I found a channel through Sedge Island (what is it with NJ and naming everything Sedge Island?!) that I thought would be fun to explore.

Unfortunately the tide and wind were against me and I got stuck in shallow water before I had a chance to tack back up to the channel. So I got out, pulled the boat into deeper water, and took off with the help of the motor.

There’s enough deep water if you know where to go. There were a handful of fishing boats back here too.

Working my way through the maze of marsh grass.

Hard to make out but there was a great egret on the point there. He didn’t seem too bothered by me as I made a 180 around him.

Finally out of the marsh and sandbars and I cut across Barnegat Inlet to get a picture of the lighthouse. Just my luck, they’ve got it covered in scaffolding! I guess I’ll just have to come back and try again someday.

Heading back towards the bay at 5 mph with a helping tide. Quite a few boats fishing through here and lots of wakes, but not nearly as crowded as Beaufort Inlet was last year on Labor Day weekend.

Through the Double Creek Channel wing and wing.

Passing an oyster farm.

My plan was to continue 17 miles south to Great Bay where I’d haul out at a public boat ramp, but it was getting late. I figured it’d be 6:30 or 7 before I made it so I decided to call it quits since I was relying on my father in law to pick me up with the truck and trailer. I checked my list of bailout points and chose Leamings Marina as the closest. I set out on a run and had a great half hour surfing the building waves at 6-7 mph.

Just outside the entrance I dropped the sails and started the trolling motor. Speed 5 pushed me nearly 3.5 mph with 180 watts.

One of the downfalls of looking for boat ramps on Google Earth is they might be private! It turns out this ramp isn’t actually connected with Leamings Marina, but the owner does have a key to open it for… you guessed it… $20.

But first, I had to get two trailers to New Jersey. I used a pair of car ramps and a set of two and two blocks to pull the boat onto the utility trailer. I really wanted to weld a hitch receiver onto the utility trailer and double tow, but from my brief research I think it would only be legal through Maryland.

Ready for the big adventure! I made a homemade wiring splitter so all four trailer lights work. I also bought a cheapish boat cover from Covercraft which is working well. The inside got pretty dirty from road grime after our trip to Cape Lookout last year so I figured this would help keep it clean. I was a bit worried it would flap itself apart at 70mph, but the straps do a good job of keeping everything tight. It does take a bit of time to get set up, but it also reduces rigging time since I can leave some stuff ready to go.

Here’s our track for the day. We launched from Parkers Creek and tacked our way out against the current to a group of undeveloped islands in the Shrewsbury River. After eating a sandwich we rounded the islands and came back in on a run. It was a misty day and towards the end there wasn’t much wind. We did 13 miles with an average of about 3.5mph.

Apparently in New Jersey you’ve got public, municipal, state, and federal boat ramps all with different fees and permits. I’m used to sticking $5 in a metal box nailed to a piling. Anyway, the ramp at Dominick F. Santelle Park is free but it doesn’t seem set up that well. Parking is fine, but there’s a large gap between the ramp and the floating dock so I’m not sure how you get the boat over to it without getting wet. Fortunately Steve figured it out while I parked the truck.

Heading down Parkers Creek. I’ve never seen such spindly daymarks. I’m not sure if they’re private or if the Coast Guard puts them in, but I saw similar ones on other creeks.

Eventually we tacked our way out under the Seven Bridges Road. It was misting pretty good which didn’t bother either of us, although I’m pretty sure that just cemented my in-laws belief that we’re crazy.

Up where the river widened we came across a gaggle of Optimist and Club 420’s out racing from the Shrewsbury Sailing and Yacht Club.

Even in the widest part of the river the waves were pretty tame. Spray came aboard a few times, but nothing major.

More mist moved in and I could barely make out the bridge we passed.

Cutting close to a sewage treatment plant. Don’t want to fall in around here!

After two hours we made it to a small beach on one of the islands for a bite to eat.

Looking back from where we came.

Looking over toward the town of Monmouth Beach.

After setting off again we cut through the channel between Gunning and Sedge Islands. Along the way we saw a pod of dolphins in the distance. I don’t know what they were doing, but one of them would hover half out of the water and another jumped completely clear. Eventually they made their way closer to us, probably 20′ away!

After looking us over they steamed off.

I’m glad there’s still a little bit of nature around in such a built up area.

Heading downwind for the first time today. This is the town of Sea Bright, a pretty affluent place. Steve and I had a good conversation about whether or not people with 1000hp on the back of their boats have as much fun as we were having.

Heading around more of the marshy islands.

We cut across the river to nowhere in particular and eventually made it back to the bridge.

Then a slow run back to the ramp.

Heading across the Hatteras Inlet on the ferry Frisco. This one was built in 1990 and must have recently been painted because it was looking pretty good. Along the way we passed the Ocracoke which was built at the same time and it was looking really rough, kinda had the HMS Hermes returning from the Falklands vibe.

Getting everything rigged at the boat ramp. This is were I first launched the boat on a vacation in 2019. I was still mounting deck hardware the night before we left and I didn’t even have time to test it out. Thankfully I’m much better prepared this time.

Sailing around to the entrance of Silver Lake. Apparently this harbor was just a shallow creek when Blackbeard was here in the 1700’s and it was later dredged out during the 1930’s and again during WWII.

Our cottage provided dock space at the southern end of the harbor. I need to improve my docking setup… I rarely dock so it’s always a bit of an afterthought. The cleats on the quarters are fairly small since they usually only hold the sheet traveler.

Tuesday looked like it’d be the best day for sailing of our trip, so I planned out a 30 mile trip to Hatteras for lunch. Then I’d return through the ferry channel and land at a beach off Prong Road on the sound side near the ferry docks. Then my folks could pick me up with the trailer and take me back to the village. The wind was forecast to be from the south east, but it ended up being more from the east, so I didn’t quite make it! I ended up going 41.6 miles to nowhere in 8.5 hours.

I had a nice wind blowing away from the dock, so I wrapped the painter around a pile, cleated it off, and drifted out a bit to raise the sails. After I let the painter go I made a few laps around the harbor while the 7:30am ferry to Swan Quarter got going.

Didn’t want to try squeezing through the entrance with him!

Once outside the protection of the harbor I found the wind a bit too strong so I hove to and put in a reef. This was the first time I’ve reefed on the water and it worked pretty well. It might be a different story if the waves were bigger, but I’m pretty pleased with my method of reefing a spritsail.

While I was hove to I drifted towards Howard’s Reef and due to the angle of the wind I couldn’t make my planned route. While I was considering my options it got pretty shallow and my rudder popped up into barn door mode. I saw some piling which I thought might be a bit of a channel, so I decided to see if I could sail over the sandbar and into the Pamlico Sound. I could always turn around and head out on a run and go around the spoil island.

I drifted north about a third of a mile while tying in the reef and there was a bit of off roading required to get over the sandbar.

I had to pull the boat through 2″ of water for about 200 yards. I removed my drybag, bilge pump, and battery but it didn’t seem to do much. It also didn’t help that the tide was falling. I kept reminding myself that the Greeks managed to pull triremes across the Isthmus of Corinth along the Diolkos and eventually I made it through to deeper water.

I spent 3.75 hours pounding upwind at 5 mph. There were some big waves at times, but nothing too scary. I decided to abandon my attempt to reach Hatteras for a few reasons, although I probably could have made it. Through some vague texts and a garbled phone call I got the incorrect impression that my parents wouldn’t be able to pick me up at the point, but the main reason was a small craft advisory was set to start at 5pm and I wanted to be off the water well before then.

So I turned around and started back on a broad reach. For two hours this was a really fun ride at 6 mph. I’ve finally figured out a good way to store my oars and keep them from rolling around. I drilled a hole through the deck carlin and semi bulkhead to rig up a loop of line that I slide the blade of the oars through. Really simple and works well.

As the village came into view the temperature dropped and the wind picked up. I averaged 7 mph and even with the reefed main I needed to hook a foot under the thwart and hike hard.

Once I got to the spoil island at the end of Howard’s Reef I hit the roughest conditions I’ve ever been in. The wind was howling and waves were popping up in a random frenzy with no pattern that I could see. At one point the bow punched through a big one and my coaming did little to help. For about 10 minutes I averaged 8 mph with a few bursts above 9. Lots of hiking and letting the sail luff.

By now the wind had shifted to the south east so I had to tack my way in. The first leg after the spoil island was pretty rough, probably because I was right on top of a shallow area. About halfway to the harbor I felt like I was able to breathe again.

Finally lined up with the entrance to the harbor. The current through here was incredible… I had to point 10º to leeward just to go straight which felt completely wrong.

I only recently found these graphs on NOAA’s website, and it predicts about a 1.75 knot current in exactly the direction I was being carried.

As I was coming in my lovely wife snapped a picture as I passed the schooner Windfall II heading out on their daily sunset cruise.

The main has some wrinkles that I wasn’t quite able to get out, but overall I’m pretty pleased with how it sets reefed. I added a part to my snotter tackle, so I can now tension the sail from the cockpit. Previously I needed to go forward and sweat the line. It does add some complication to the setup but the adjustment is worth it.

Here’s how I usually approach a dock. First take down the jib and stuff it along the port side of the centerboard case. Then scandalize the main to reduce power. Get yourself pointed into the wind again and then take it all down, keeping the heel of the sprit off the deck. The sprit will project forward a few feet of the bow if you don’t loosen the peak pendant, but that’s ok. I tie the sprit to the mast with some light line to keep it from rolling off the deck. And I try to do as little of the large picture as possible.

On Thursday I woke up at 6am to roaring wind and tons of rain. According to Windy it was 25 mph with gusts up to 30. I drove down to the dock to make sure everything was still ok but by the time I got there the squall was through and the rain had stopped.

The boat was still there and my bilge pump seemed to be working. It leaves a fair amount of water in the bottom since there’s no real bilge and there’s quite a head of water in the hose going over the gunnel, but it kept the water low enough that it didn’t seep through the inspection hatch on the front of the sternsheets. I plan to get rid of that hatch this winter and put a big rectangular one under the tiller. Should be more useful and I don’t sit there anyway.

I forgot to bring some bolts to attach the bilge pump wires, so I whittled a point onto some sticks and wedged the wires in place. I figure wet weather will just improve the connection as the wood swells!

Saturday morning it was time to head home and my mom and mother in law wanted a ride. Unfortunately the wind was blowing me onto the dock and it was just too crowded. I’m beginning to think the First Mate is really a one person boat, at least with inexperienced passengers. You know, building a bigger boat would be one way to fix this problem…

Sailing wasn’t going to work, so I rowed the .8 miles to the boat ramp. Just as I rounded the corner and entered “the ditch” I saw the Swan Quarter ferry in the distance. I picked up the pace and we snuck out a few minutes before it came through.

Approaching the boat ramp, it was upwind the whole way. Then it was time to pack it up and head home.

My wife and I took a vacation down to Atlantic Beach which is on one of North Carolina’s barrier islands. We usually go to Hatteras or Ocracoke, but this year we thought we’d try somewhere new. I have a thing for photographing lighthouses as an excuse to get out and explore, so we decided somewhere within sailing distance of Cape Lookout would be interesting. The morning started out with pretty light winds from astern. I really could have used my topsail I’ve been tinkering with, but it’s not quite ready for prime time yet.

Leaving Anchorage Marina. Pretty narrow through here, especially under oars.

Heading across Beaufort Inlet with the Atlantic off to the right. The number of boats that passed me was incredible, and it only got worse throughout the day. Boat wakes came from all directions and the channel was pretty narrow in places. Fortunately it was all downwind and the wind was predicted to shift to a beam reach on the way back.

On the sound side of the uninhabited Shackleford Banks. After bouncing through boat wakes I decided to raise the centerboard, let the rudder pop into barn door mode, and cut through the marshy islands. This not only gave me interesting things to look at and navigate around, but it also massively cut down on the number of other people.

Although not everyone… this guy was out buzzing boaters in his Jet Ski of the sky. He didn’t get super close to me, but my wife got a video of him flying down the beach.

What I thought were watermen off in the distance turned out to be feral horses grazing in the marsh! Supposedly they came from Spanish or English shipwrecks during the age of discovery and genetic testing does seem to indicate their line dates back 400 years. I was feeling pretty lucky to see them, but after sailing further I saw tons more all over the island. Must be a tough life eating marsh grass and drinking brackish water.

Heading through some marshy islands in a foot of water. One guy who was anchored said he didn’t think I’d make it through.

Working my way over to Barden Inlet through the shallows. Powerboats ripped through at full speed, so I guess they must know where they’re going. Shackleford Banks used to be connected until a hurricane opened this inlet in 1933. Congressman Graham Barden sponsored legislation requiring the Army Corps of Engineers maintain the channel for the watermen of Harkers Island.

Heading toward the lighthouse! The beach was packed with anchored powerboats and more were constantly coming or going. I picked the widest spot to beach my boat and went for it.

Aways out I dropped the jib and sailed in on the scandalized main. Luffed up into the wind right at the shore, hopped overboard, and pulled her up onto the beach like I knew what I was doing. Just then I noticed a group of people coming over to give me a hand… but it turned out they just wanted selfies with the boat and to ask how it can move without an engine.

A pretty packed beach.

The Cape Lookout Lighthouse was built in 1859 and is 163′ tall. The black diamonds are oriented north and south, while the white diamonds point east and west. I wanted to climb it, but it’s closed for the foreseeable future while serious structural issues are fixed.

After eating lunch I managed to get launched without ramming anyone else’s boat or more importantly looking like a fool. Once away from the shore (and during a brief lull in passing boat traffic) I peaked up the main and hoisted the jib.

It took some tacking around the shallow areas to get into Lookout Bight. The shoreline was packed, boats were crisscrossing everywhere, and some pretty big ones were in the channel.

But eventually I made it into the Atlantic where I hoped I would just have to deal with the wind and waves… but that was not to be the case. At one point a charter fishing boat blew past close enough for spray to hit me and I had to quickly turn into his wall of a wake. And unfortunately the wind didn’t quite shift enough for a beam reach, so it was all upwind.

I stayed within 3/4 of a mile from Shackleford Banks and it was a choppy ride. There seemed to be waves radiating out from the beach which I assume are reflected waves, although maybe they were just from the constant boat traffic. Possibly further out would have been less chaotic. I never felt close to being in over my head, but the constant bashing to windward did get tiring.

Heading into Beaufort Inlet. The waves through here were even choppier with some of them constructively interfering to get pretty big. At one point I looked up at a wave for a moment, but that was not the usual size. My GPS tracker shows I surfed another wave upwind at 8.5 mph.

I didn’t have enough hands to take many pictures from the narrow section. Mostly because I was trying to navigate upwind through a narrow channel while over canvased and surrounded by tons of boats. It was ridiculous how many there were… I felt like I was surrounded by TIE fighters in a Star Wars movie.

Once through the narrow section it opened up and I could tack over to the marina. It was blowing pretty good, I think because the land funneled the wind in. Although my wife did say the wind got a little uncomfortable out on the beach too.

Finally back at the ramp after 32.7 miles. I averaged 4.5 mph on the way back and I had about 5 gallons of water sloshing around in the bottom just from spray. The whole trip took 8.5 hours and was a great success. Did I mention there was a ton of boats to avoid?