Solo at sea, part 2

The day passed blissfully.  As promised the winds slowly backed around to the south and began to increase.  My 15:46 log book entry notes a speed over ground as 6.3 knots, 50.1 miles made good, 1 hour and 57 minutes out from the Masonboro Inlet outer buoy, and 280 pages completed in my novel.   The wind, too close on the bow to permit a headsail was beginning to look more favorable.   Perhaps I will get to run out the genny today?  For now I choose to continue on under the main and the motor.  Otto is steadily holding course.    Back to reading and watching the winds.

The stuttering of the diesel motor resonated through the hull and shattered my bliss.  Never has our 34 horse power Beta Marine engine given us a second’s hesitation.  Now it was convulsing like a neophyte swimmer after inhaling a slug of water.   A quick “why now” flashed across my brain, and then onto problem solving mode.  I snapped the throttle back to idle, and the motor calmed.  Fuel and air, fuel and air all a diesel needs to run fuel and air.  I leaped up on deck and grabbed the 5G can of spare fuel.  Opening the fill cap, I peer into the dark void of the tank.  I’ve never seen it so empty.  No time to wait on the funnel.  I thumb the spout to prevent spilling and aim for the tank opening… direct hit.   The can disgorges its combustible contents.  Once the can is emptied I sit in rapt silence listening to the purring engine.  That is better, but I still wonder why? 

Hull speed is down below 3 knots, but that can wait.  I scan the horizon for hazards.  Finding none, I head below to investigate further.  Accessing the engine compartment consumes a few moments.  In this time the engine continues to purr.  I run down a list of probable issues…

Fuel valves – all open

Fuel filter – bowl has some sediment, but things look good

Fuel line vacuum gauge – high, but in the green

Air – I cup my hand over the intake and feel a healthy suction

What else? 

Well if I did run out of fuel how did this happen?  C’est la Vie does not have a fuel gauge so we meticulously long the run time.  Based on the log book I had 16 hours and 58 minutes of run time when I started this morning.  I’ve run a bit over 10 hours today.  Thus I should have at least 13 more hours of run time, or approximately 7 gallons of fuel.   I’m confident that there was little fuel left in the tank, certainly not 7 gallons.

Fuel leak!?  I return to the engine compartment and literally sniff around.   I peer into the bilge.  I wipe my hands over the tank and fuel lines.  No signs of leaking.

Math error?  I scan through the log book.  No obvious errors.

A new hypothesis leaps into my conscious… someone siphoned fuel from our tank while we were anchored in Beaufort? 

As I ponder this possibility I head back above decks, scan the horizon, and then throttle back up.  As C’est la Vie again hits her stride at 6 knots, I listen intently to the engine’s hum. 

I complete my book, by my assessment Bob Morris’ best work to date.   C’est la Vie carries me into Wrightsville Beach motoring under the main. 

 At 18:26 I silenced the motor.  The Beta Marine had completed the day without another hic-up.  I am confident that we ran low on fuel.  I’m leaning towards theft, but plan to fill the tank tomorrow and continue to monitor for leaks.

By all accounts my first solo, offshore day was a success with a daily run of 69NM in 12 hours.  Now it is time for a swim, dinner, and a new book. 

Solo at sea, part 1

My day started long before dawn.  Wearing a headlamp for light, I worked down my mental checklist:

 turn on the VHF for weather reports and start the water for coffee…

crank in ten feet of anchor chain…

pour the water and press the coffee…

crank in ten feet of anchor rode…

ahh coffee and NOAA weather my morning ritual at sea…

crank in ten feet of anchor rode…

uncover the main, tiller, and dodger…

ahh coffee…

crank in ten feet of anchor rode…

 rig the jacklines, set the PFD/tether, and prep the auto pilot

ahh coffee…

crank in ten feet of anchor rode…

turn on the instruments, start the engine, hoist the main, start the days log book entry

ahh coffee…

crank in ten feet of anchor rode.

Down to 40 feet of rode it is go time.  I have taken to raising the rode in ten foot increments over time because it allows the chain above the water to drip dry before finding its way into the locker and I find that I haul up less mud with this system.  This morning I’m in about 20 feet of water so the final 40 feet will come up in on final push.

As I rest the anchor in chocks on the bow sprit, the eastern sky begins to glow.  Drifting now on a flooding tide in a narrow channel, I hustle to secure the anchor and stow away the bucket, bush, and windlass lever.   I take the helm relieved that the light winds and racing current have only pushed C’est la Vie down the center of the channel.   Sheet the main, shove the throttle forward, and C’est la Vie responds by moving confidently towards Beaufort Inlet with a full moon nearing the horizon off our bow.

Nearing the Beaufort Channel I’m surprised by the volume of outbound traffic.  I’m certainly not alone out here.  The conditions are forecast to be pleasant so I guess many of the local anglers are starting the weekend fishing a day early.  The ocean swell is moderate and the winds are light out of the northwest.  We slip out into the ocean with the sun rising on our stern.  I can see the silhouette of the Cape Lookout Lighthouse rising from the Cape.  Rounding green 11, we depart the channel and set a course for Masonboro Inlet.  Once the irregular seas associated with the inlet subside, I turn the steering over to Otto, our autopilot, and pause, my first moment of reflection of the day. 

Satisfaction mixed with a bit of pride.  Things are going smoothly.  I make breakfast and crack open the next Bob Morris novel, A Deadly Silver Sea, pause for a moment… I hope there is no irony in my choice of novels.  The horizon is clear, the weather is delightful, and Otto is silently working the helm.  All is well.

Departure from Beaufort, NC

After a over a week of using The Beaufort Coffee Shop as an office;  reuniting with friends and businesses down east; meeting some new faces; afternoon laps in the creek; and quite time at anchor it is time to depart Beaufort. 

Sounds like a simple, “hoist up the John B sails, see how the main sail sets, call for the captain ashore” –STOP – the reality is… take the dinghy ashore to scrub the growth off the hull; dive under C’est la Vie to scrape barnacles off the prop; untwist the anchor rodes;  fold and store the dinghy on deck; scrub the two anchor rodes inch by inch to remove nearly a month’s worth of growth; and then start up the C’est la Vie’s engine an motor out of town in the waning daylight. 

I started my departure prep just after lunch and set the hook off a Shackleford Banks under a rising full moon.    No laps today… none needed I’m wiped out and plan to rise early tomorrow for my first offshore, solo passage – Beaufort to Wrightsville beach – 65NM in the Atlantic.  I’m too spent from my afternoon’s efforts to expend much nervous energy on tomorrow plus the weather looks fine and C’est la Vie is ready for some sea time.

Settling into time alone on C'est la Vie

Along with the variety and quality of my meals (double boca burger anyone?) life is certainly different now that I am solo and working.  The past couple days I’ve spent working on the computer preparing for the upcoming Florida Outward Bound season and laying the foundation for the school’s return to the OBX in summer 2011.  Since I cannot simply plug the computer into the outlet here on the boat, I’ve become a regular fixture at the local coffee shop.   I am looking forward to a couple of days of traveling down east in both the car and kayak as part of my recon of the OBX course area. 

We are still anchored in the same spot at the western end of Taylor’s Creek.  I have now met all of our immediate “neighbors” in the anchorage.  Of the five closest vessels, three are seasonal live aboards that have jobs in town.

I’ve continued my afternoon laps, approximately ¾ mile each afternoon, and have begun to notice some improvement.  I have grown fond of swimming as an afternoon workout and will miss when my time on C’est la Vie winds down.  I’m not up for swimming laps in the Barron River, at least not until cooler weather arrives and runs the alligators back up into the marshes.    Well that’s all in the future… for now I’m going to focus in my double boca burger in paradise – yum!

Here we go round the anchor rode

I drew upon my latent climbing knowledge to free up the rode.  

The most vexing part of untwisting the rodes was my inability to pull up enough rope rode to tie off the line.  Typically I would simply let out some more chain on the other rode and this slack would permit me to haul in on the rope rode.  Unfortunately the twists in the two rodes prohibited this solution.

Using an 8 foot loop of 4mm cord I tied a prussic knot to the rode, ran the cord through the bowsprit, and back to a two to one on deck.  The prussic knot will slide freely along the rode until force is applied to the cord. When force is applied the prussic knot cinches down on the larger diameter line and will not slip.

This system allowed me to secure the rope rode and  take pressure off the twists .  With this system in place the only thing remaining was the grunt work of coiling up the remaining ¾” rode; passing it through the bowsprit; and then  while standing in the dinghy pass the coil around and around the chain rode.

This entire process took about one hour and provided a necessary distraction from a day of working on the computer.

Twisted Rodes

During our absence C’est la Vie seems to have done some spin moves. 

Due to limited swing room and strong daily tidal currents, we set a Bahamian Moor at our present anchorage in Taylor’s Creek.  The anchor set up is effective, but an undesirable by product is twists in the anchor rodes.

Does anyone out there have a good system for avoiding the twists when riding on two anchors? 

My plan is to pull up enough of the rope rode to tie off the anchor side to a bow cleat.  I will then coil up the bitter end of the rope rode and pass the coil down through the bowsprit. With the coil below the bowsprit, I will jump in the dinghy and begin to unwind the rodes.  Once the rodes are free of one another, I can then pass the coil back through the bowsprit and reattach the bitter end to a cleat.

Does anyone out there know of a better way to unwrap the rodes?

My plan is to wait for tomorrow's flooding tide where there will be less pressure on the rope rode.  So if anyone has suggestions please let me know soon.

Life in the fast lane?

Since our trip to FL in late August and our return to Beaufort with our car, life seems to be moving at a much faster pace.   Does the presence of a personal automobile speed up our lives or has fate simply stepped in to speed things up?  Here is a brief recap of the last 10 days…

We drove up the mountains.  Anne caught up with friends in WNC while I spent a few days working at NCOBS Table Rock Basecamp.   We then returned to Mooresville to visit with my family for a couple days.  Anne flew out of Charlotte, NC to join her mom in New Hampshire.  Due to some health issues, her mom has returned to the States from her Peace Corps post in Swaziland.  Anne will remain in New Hampshire until October 1. 

I arrived back in Beaufort today, Monday, and have been scrambling about in an effort to open up the boat & restock the galley.   I also dropped our mainsail off at Omar Sails for some minor repair work.

I’ll be solo on C’est la Vie until the last week of September when I plan to haul out in Wilmington, NC.

Sea Kayaking with Trish

Trish and I launched our kayaks at the Harker’s Island Bridge this morning.  Our hope was to get a bit of exercise, do some recon of the NCOBS OBX course area, and take in some Americana as the masses converge on Shackleford Banks for Labor Day Weekend.  We were successful on all accounts.  

Our first stop, Whale Creek, required crossing back sound between Harker’s Island and Shackleford Banks.  NCOBS uses the Whale Creek area as a course start campsite. We wanted to check out the area to ensure that the water depth and shoaling would still allow egress for skiffs hauling gear and students.   The recon was fruitful. 

After a brief walkabout at Whale Creek, we reentered the kayaks and paddled our way westward along the banks.  The further west we traveled, towards Beaufort Inlet, the more rich the Americana became…

Upon reaching the western end of the banks, we made landfall to check out the inlet and stretch our legs.  The residual swell from Earl’s recent passage dissuaded us from crossing the inlet.  Instead we rode the flooding tide and swells northward and used the high tide to slip across the flooded tidal flats of Carrot Island.   The final push of day trip came as we fought the rising tide westward up Taylor’s Creek to C’est la Vie’s anchorage.  

We arrived to find an empty vessel.    Anne had already made her way into town for some porch time with friends at Handscapes Gallery.  Trish and I hastily packed up gear, showered, and joined the gang on the porch.  A fine end to a day on the water in sea kayaks.