Chester River Cruise...
And the return of the Age Of Sail.
This past weekend the Chesapeake Bay weather was enticing. Moderate daytime temps, clear skies, low (enough) overnight temps, and wind. So, naturally, I wanted to go cruising on Moondust. Often enough, this means heading off on my own. But my wife Ilana is, as she likes to say, a fair-weather sailor. So with fair weather forecast she came with me. Couples cruise!
I haven’t been to the Chester River in a long time, and I like to keep the destinations varied, so we headed north from Annapolis, under the Bay bridge, and into the Chester. The breeze came up nicely from the south, which made for a fast reach heading northeast to the Chester entrance. Before we made the turn into the river, and came onto the wind, I reefed the main, wanting to keep things calm and under control for Ilana. And also because when I am cruising I like it that way too (and to be honest, I think Moondust sails just as fast, if not faster, when she is not heeling too much and sliding sideways on her shoal keel). If you want to enjoy quality time with your wife, there is nothing like getting out on a boat, and away from a city and all the mundane distractions of home.
The Chester is wide enough, but there are plenty of shoals in the first 5 miles, so attention must be paid. I was reminded that it is never wise to assume you can cut close to channel markers in the Chesapeake. Sailing on a tight line between two green channel markers to minimize our miles I felt the keel touch once, and then again. I quickly spun the wheel and made a sharp turn to starboard to get us back toward the center of the shipping channel. No harm, no foul, luckily. The chart said that there should have been at least 7 feet of water in the spot where we touched.
Instead of heading for the Langford Creek and Cacaway Island, the most popular anchorage on the Chester River, I decided we should go to Grays Inn Creek. Also a beautiful spot, but much less crowded. When I cruised the Chesapeake in the 1990s, I used to pride myself on finding anchorages that had no, or at least very few, boats. I succeeded quite a lot of the time. That is almost impossible to do these days. But Grays Inn would give us a chance.
We approached the Grays Inn entrance marker with the wind dead astern and now blowing a solid 15 knots. My plan was to furl the genoa and use the reefed main to meander up the creek until we found a nice spot to anchor. All sailor-like, you know. But that elegant plan was thrown into chaos when the chartplotter, the autopilot, and the AIS all started beeping warning alarms and abruptly stopped functioning. Having already touched the Chester River mud once, the last thing I wanted to do was try and navigate past the shoals of Grays Inn, with the wind dead astern, without a chartplotter. Not really knowing what the problem was, we started the engine, spun Moondust up into the wind, and doused both sails. After a few minutes the chartplotter started functioning again, and we motored slowly up the creek and dropped anchor. We were the only boat there, so that made me happy.
With the anchor down, I started to ponder our electronics meltdown. One clue was that in recent weeks the refrigerator cold plate had operated normally but then shut down after a few hours. Add the sudden shutdown of the electronics, which is often a sign of low voltage, and my suspicions turned toward the two five-year old Group 27 batteries that comprise our house battery bank. I let the engine run for an hour to try and charge everything back up, then shut it off. The electronics kept working, the fridge cold plate stayed frosty. I had a solid diagnosis. I kept the engine start battery isolated through the night as backup, minimized our DC power draw by shutting the fridge down overnight, and by morning the house battery bank voltage was below 12 volts. Diagnosis confirmed. Batteries need replacing. Which proves that the best way to maintain a boat is to sail it frequently so you are aware, or become aware, of every little glitch in the setup.
We had a lovely evening, with the cackle of geese (click the image above to get the video) against a setting sun to set the tone. Ilana likes to go to bed early and get up early, which I rarely do at home. But on the boat I like that too so we were nicely in synch. One other sailboat did eventually show up and anchor about a half mile from us, so it wasn’t a perfect anchorage. But it was pretty close. Sunrise was beautiful, and the morning was mostly quiet. The only unwelcome excitement was a large flock of birds (starlings maybe?) that spent about ten minutes trying to settle on Moondust’s rig, and threaten my clean deck. It was straight out of Hitchcock. I shouted and shook the rig every time they came in for a landing. Ilana got out her iPhone and loudly played the sound of an eagle shrieking. Eventually they gave up and left us alone, leaving Ilana--who loves technology--pleased that her creative thinking and digital eagle had turned the tide.
The sail home was equally enjoyable. A beat south to the big bend in the Chester and then a fast run north to the entrance. And then another beat south to Annapolis and home. Sun and blue sky. Relaxed conversation. Snacks. All the ingredients for an excellent weekend of couples cruising.
The Future Is The Past: Or at least it could and should be. I am on record with my strong belief that all the world’s destructive overfishing problems would be solved if all fishing is allowed…as long as no combustion engines are involved. So of course I love this story about a dreamer who has resurrected a schooner trade between the Hudson Valley and New York City:
In the age of flight shaming, car shaming and even meat shaming, conscientious consumers with disposable incomes are growing ever more aware of their carbon footprints and interested in buying local. Producers are experimenting with cleaner, greener packaging and delivery methods.
With his new, “clean shipping” venture, Mr. Merrett hopes to help them all.
In 2015, he and two business partners bought the Apollonia, a workhorse of a 64-foot steel-hulled sailboat, on Craigslist for $15,000. Built in the 1940s, it had been out of the water for 30 years before the crew sailed it from Boston to its new home in Hudson. They then spent three years rebuilding the sailing rig and adding creature comforts, like a composting toilet and bunks, some of which are 20 inches wide.
The made-over ship had its maiden voyage in May 2020, and in 2021 it will have sailed almost every month from late spring into fall, forming an ecologically conscious supply chain to connect the Hudson Valley and the New York Harbor. Carbon neutrality is built into every aspect of its operation, down to its last-mile delivery plan, which involves solar-powered e-bikes and sometimes — thanks to partners at the Prospect Park Stable in Brooklyn — horse-drawn carriages.
Now, I don’t expect that big container ship in the background to become obsolete anytime soon (sadly--stop buying so much cr#p, people!). But there is plenty that can be done with sails and wind-powered systems to reduce the large carbon footprint of global shipping and fishing. So, sail on Captain Merrett! Existential crises demand an army of Don Quixotes.
Adventure Porn: Skip Novak knows how to live (and build boats). So if you insist on going to our planet’s fragile polar regions, this would be the way to go. (I had clipped this a while back, but I recently saw it again on the excellent sailing/boating platform Phlotilla, so was reminded I had it in the hopper).
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