Paragon's Parable

 

                      “Home is the sailor, home from sea.”

 In this case, two sailors are home after nine months and twenty-one days at sea aboard Paragon.  We’re calling it a year.  This was our “winterlude”, a glorious time well worth the 45-year wait of dreaming and planning.  Thank goodness Bob’s life-long dream did not involve climbing Mount Everest!  He would have been on his own in that endeavor. 

We slid into our dock on the 5^th of July late in the afternoon and were met by a host of wildly cheering friends and family members bearing flowers and champagne.  We felt as if we had returned from the wars as heroes!  Are we glad to be back?  Absolutely!  Would we go again?  In a heartbeat!  It was a magical year, free of responsibility and stress.  We lived one day at a time with no need for clocks or calendars, no need for more than a half dozen changes of boat clothes, no need for any sort of schedule.  Our days were planned according to the wind and tides when they were planned at all.

Boat living isn’t for everyone, but it suited us very well, at least for the year.  We’ve both decided that full-time boat living is out of the question for us.  We met many live-aboards this past year and while their days looked enviable in many respects, they didn’t seem to have a real home where people loved them, depended on them, missed them.  It was a kind of nomadic life; both Bob and I know we need a real community where we belong and which is home to us.  Besides, how could we ever have a welcome home celebration if we never came home? 

During the past year we had the time to read dozens of good books, time to keep up a very competitive cribbage tournament, time to talk to each other, time to meet and get to know new friends, time to look around us and truly appreciate the beauty and wonder of this world.  A unique “winterlude” may not come our way again and we feel so grateful to have had the opportunity to enjoy this one.

Boat living is narrow; it’s cheek by jowl living in the very best sense of that phrase.   We learned to enjoy what a small space has to offer in terms of simplicity and intimacy.  Many people wrote to ask if we were still married and, if so, were we still married to each other.  During our travels we heard several sad stories of “water-soluble marriages”, i.e. marriages which dissolve when mixed with water.  Bob and I loved “mixing with water” and the very close day-to-day living aboard Paragon was not ever a problem for us.  On a sailboat two people are very dependent on one another for comfort and, more importantly, for safety.  As a result, the trust level is pretty high as well as the need for a fair degree of tolerance for one another’s eccentricities.   During a disagreement there is really no place to go to get away, so problems are solved quickly and apologies readily offered and accepted.

 

We’re both glad to be back in our own home, although the vast space around us is taking some getting used to.  I am constantly fighting the urge to draw our furniture closer together and when we awaken each morning in our king-sized bed, we find ourselves taking up only one-third of the bed!  On the other hand, we weep tears of gratitude each time we step into our shower with bare feet. The sheer joy and luxury of standing naked under a virtual waterfall of warm, clean, fresh water for whole minutes at a time cannot be overstated.  I feel sure that we’ll get used to the large empty space in a very short time and begin to fill it up once again with all the stuff we stored last summer.  We both question whether we really need this stuff; after all, we’ve done without it for nearly a year now and haven’t missed it a bit.  When all is said and done, we need very little to live comfortably, but we’re not deluding ourselves: all that stuff will come back and work its way into our days without our even noticing the gradual accumulation and  maintenance that result.

 

Boat living took some adjustment and now Mount Vernon living is taking some adjustment as well, but we wouldn’t trade either one of them for gold. There is a song in the musical, THE NEW BRAIN, titled “Sailing”.  It’s an obscure little song, quite lovely, and it ends,

                                      “And I’d rather be sailing

                                         Yes, I’d want to go sail

                                          And then come home to you.”

Bob and I can’t add to that.

pictures to be added shortly

One has to be impressed by, and grateful for, the wonderful American asset often referred to as the “ICW”, the Intracoastal Waterway. It is a marvel of engineering and natural beauty affording 3,000 miles of navigable waterway routes without the many hazards of travel on the open sea – which is not a bad way to go either.

I’m told the unofficial northern terminus is the Manasquam River in New Jersey, but to my knowledge mile marker “0” is in Norfolk, VA with Miami being around mile marker “1328”. Pam and I have sailed the entire New Jersey coast and, in fact, anchored in the Manasquam and there is no way we could take our boat south in the ICW from there as the bridges are much too low.

The ICW was authorized by Congress in 1919 and falls under the jurisdiction of the Army Corps of Engineers, which coincidently is HQ’d near us at Fort Belvoir. Originally it was supposed to have a minimum depth of 12 feet, but inadequate funding and cutbacks, especially during the 2 terms of George W. Bush, prevented that. We often uncounted 7 and 8 foot depths and once ran aground right in the channel (in Florida just north of Kings Bay). We also avoided the Georgia ICW almost entirely by going outside knowing the reputation of bad shoaling in the state. For the most part, we experienced depths of 12 to 17 feet, but if the minimums are not kept clear the deeper depths are meaningless.

At one time I thought the ICW was done for security and commercial freight reasons to protect US shipping during wartime, but I can not substantiate this. The ICW is a watery complex of existing rivers or streams, man-made canals, locks, lakes, and bays interwoven to benefit boaters, commercial traffic, wildlife of all types so abundant that it is like a zoo without cages. There are, birders, sightseers, and ever- present fishermen/women of all ages and sizes on the shores and in boats. The ICW even keeps alive the economies of waterfront towns like Elizabeth City, NC, Georgetown, SC, Oriental, NC (considered the “sailing capital of North Carolina”) and Coinjock, NC ,where we put in for a slip, electricity for our AC, and their famous 32 ounce steak!

The ICW I know is broken down to 3 parts:

     East Coast……………Norfolk VA to Key West, FL

     Florida Gulf Coast……Key West to the Alabama line, where one of my favorite bars, the FloraBama Bar, melds bikers,   bluegrass and boaters, much like Tim’s Rivershore does on the Potomac, only with more fist fights

     Gulf…………………..Alabama to Brownsville, Texas which is supposed to be beautiful according to German Moran, a friend we met in Bimini. He and the people in this Gulf section must be sick about the BP oil spill – we are

After traveling 2,000+ miles down and back, one of the most impressive things is that of the many thousands of navigation marks (red posts, or “nuns” with even numbers and green posts or cans with odd numbers) we only experienced 3 or 4 times where the marks were wrong or missing. For any QPM (Quality Process Management) fans, this is in the “six-sigma” range which is awesome.

The atmosphere on the ICW ranges from the extremely remote (Dismal Swamp Canal) reminiscent of the movie DELIVERANCE.   (If you haven’t seen this movie, get it), to the highly industrialized (Fernandina Beach, FL)… from “Skid Row” homes and fishing shacks to mega-mega mansions – don’t ever let anyone tell you there is no more wealth in this country. But telling of the times, more of the waterfront homes for sale along the waterway are the newer and larger ones.

The docks and bulk-heading are equally diverse from nothing, eroding mud/grass banks, to bags of cement one on top of another, to rip-wrap, to very expensive bulk heading to  robust football field length, elevated, pressure treated runways and docks worth more than our house in Mount Vernon!

Having been on parts of the ICW before, I was surprised at the small number of barges and commercial traffic – some of this may be due to the shoaling. Most boaters, power and sail alike, are extremely thoughtful and courteous. A few dunderheads, unfortunately all power boaters, surf by yielding good sized wakes which are not dangerous to us but are to the docks and boats tied to the docks. We often think of our friend Ellen Kelly, who, years ago, was making tea or coffee at anchor and was burned badly after a wake rocked their boat and spilled boiling liquid on her legs. I think she was wearing jeans, which sounds like protection, but the heavy denim did the opposite by not dissipating the heat. Either Pamela or I never fail to warn the other down below of a wake coming.

However, the vast majority of power boaters are terrific, often radioing, “Paragon, this is the 60 foot motor vessel, Ti Amo, behind you. We would like to pass you to starboard and will slow down for a comfortable pass”.   After one such exchange, the boat called back 4 minutes later and said, “Paragon, Paragon, after we passed you we experienced shoaling where the channel ought to be. Stay to starboard and hug the green buoys” Then, four minutes after that, we heard, “Paragon, after you go by the green, go quickly to the opposite side and hug the red mark to port before you enter the narrow cut”.  Ti Amo probably thought our draft was deeper than it is, but I loved the thought that this guy was looking out for us, too.

The ICW’s beauty and wildlife make the slow going in “The Ditch” well worth the time spent.  However, there’s always a fly in the ointment and in this case it’s the Georgia and South Carolina horseflies which luckily tended to abandon ship as soon as we went outside to the ocean or pulled off to anchor for the night. While we’re underway I’m swatting left and right missing 60% of the time – Pamela says that the male hunting instinct kicks in – while she’s calmly and gently brushing them away so I won’t kill them. I tried to tag some of them to see who was right, but they were too big to get a tag around!  I should add that I was the only one who was bitten; Pamela thinks I must have made them mad.

One has to often play the tides or currents as there are places it rips 3 or 4 knots – fun if you are going with it and frustrating if you are bucking it, especially if you are trying to make a bridge opening. At other points on the ICW, there is no tide or current like Indian River in Florida around Titusville or the Neuse River near Oriental, NC. This is due to the wide expanse of these bodies of water where any significant flow is spread over wide areas.

ICW bridges are of all types:

     Bascule (in which one or both sides lift allowing us to pass through the open center)

     Swing (where a side or both sides rotate on a large “pedestal” allowing passage on

          either side or the open side

     Pontoon (where a cable is attached to one end of a floating bridge and pulls it back

          allowing boats to pass. The Sunset Pontoon Bridge in NC often closes at low tide

          because the cable cannot drag through the mud!

     Railroad (in which the center span of the bridge itself moves straight up on

          elevators within metal towers on each side to distribute the weight. These are often

          left open unless a train is coming through and you are given notice, about 8 minutes, if it will be closing

     Fixed, high span with the center opening pretty well standardized with at least 65’

          clearance – I believe out mast is 57’ high, but we saw boats with 64’ or 65’ sweating it

In addition to bridges there are locks equalizing water levels – two down on the Dismal Swamp Route and one on the way back on the Virginia Cut Route.

Two other aspects are worth mention:

      Rainbows…..we didn’t see one on the way down, but saw many on the way home,

                             and no matter how you try, you just cannot capture the full beauty

                             on camera

       Plantations……there were many, after all, this is the South. A lot of money was

                                 made, and much later lost, growing rice. Georgetown, which boasts a Rice Museum, has tour boats

                                 showing  people what “Uncle Ben” reveled in – I think it was rice, it may have been ketchup! 

See our earlier entry “WILDLIFE ON THIS TRIP”. We cannot say enough about the birds, fish, reptiles and even insects which make the ICW home. The dolphins make us feel welcome, the gators make us fearful. Birds of all kinds make us marvel at the sounds, the flights, the camouflage, the patience as they wait for a meal. A dolphin or two always make us feel “all is right”. An osprey or eagle (after we decide which) is always moving and reminds us of home. A snowy Egret teaches us patience. A gator makes us feel fortunate we’re in the boat rather than in the water, and manatee, as elusive as they were initially, bring out our nurturing instincts and we rush to feed them lettuce and search for a fresh water source which they seek out. We love it all.

 

 

“All night, all day, angels watching over me, my Lord.

               All night, all day, angels watching over me.”       

We all have angels watching over us from time to time, those people who step into our lives out of nowhere at just the right moment to offer the help we need right then.  It might be an encouraging word, a timely gift, a ride to an appointment, the offer of work, the perfect tool for the job, a cup of tea.  These angels have no visible wings, no halos, no shining robes; they may be the most unlikely looking angels we can imagine, yet I have no other explanation for their sudden appearances in the midst of our days. 

Bob and I have had more than our share of angel visitations during this past year at sea.  We have had people appear, seemingly out of nowhere, to lend a large cooler when our refrigeration failed, to provide a dock and a mechanic when we had transmission trouble, to offer a cup of coffee, no, a full breakfast when none was available in a little Bahamian town, to share a condo in which to ride out both Hurricane Ida and an injured back, to surprise us with a delightful daughter and granddaughter visit just when we needed it most.  There are certainly dozens more, too many to list here, but I want to tell of the latest.

We had left the Charleston boat yard in the morning, fueled up, and started up the waterway once again intending to take it slow and easy and anchor out that night.  This was our first day back on the water following Bob’s injury and we didn’t want to exert his back too much.  It was a killingly hot day, in the very high 90’s, and we were already keenly missing the air-conditioning on Daniel Island.   We have AC on Paragon, but we can only use it when we’re on shore power, which is very seldom. 

It was late afternoon when we noticed a small Carolina Skiff go by, turn around and go by us again.  The skipper did this a third time and pulled up close to us to ask if we were intending to anchor nearby.  We said, “Yes.”, that was our plan and he replied, “Well, I dock my own sailboat just up ahead at my house and there’s plenty of room.  I like your boat!  Why don’t you come and put in there for the night?  There’s water and electricity.”  Oh, he didn’t have to ask twice!  We followed him a short distance to Dewees Inlet where his house and dock stood on Dewees Island.  He met us at the dock and helped with the lines and the power cord to get us safely and coolly situated.  Only then did he put out his hand and introduce himself.  This unlikely angel was named Bobby Kennedy!!  His sailboat was almost a twin to Paragon, a 1968 Bermuda 40 (a Hinckley yawl) named Desiree, a gorgeous boat.

Bobby and Janet Kennedy live in a large beautiful home just uphill from the docks and the surrounding area is teeming with birds and water life; it’s a truly lovely piece of property and they both enjoy sharing it with others. Bobby often cruises the waterway in the late afternoon looking for boaters who may be searching for a safe night’s anchorage.  He loves old sailboats, especially old yawls, and is quick to invite the captain to pull in to his place for a day or two. 

 On this particular day he found US!  Between the miserable heat and Bob’s sore back, we had been experiencing a pretty uncomfortable afternoon and were not really looking forward to a hot sleepless night aboard Paragon.  The Kennedys’ gracious and timely hospitality was very welcome!  Bobby was especially sympathetic to our situation as he had taken a bad fall off his deck the previous spring and had fractured his back.  He could fully appreciate how Bob was hurting.

Bobby is a great storyteller and he kept us entertained all the rest of that evening while Janet and I talked books.  We agreed to tour one another’s boats the next morning before we got underway; Bob and I have always wanted to see the inside of a Hinckley and this boat was in pristine condition.  Just beautiful.  Well, we settled in on Desiree and picked up right where we had left off the night before.  You can guess the rest.  By the time we thought to check a clock, it was already 2:00 in the afternoon, much too late to continue that day, and we were forced to spend a second night at the Kennedys’ dock!  Alas and alack!  Bobby promised to wake us at 6:00 o’clock the next morning so that we could get an early start and, true to his word, he knocked on the hull calling, “Ahoy, Paragon” at 6:00 A.M. sharp.  He came bearing gifts, a special pillow for the Captain’s back and a small can of insect repellent which targets “no-see-ums”.   We asked him aboard for coffee (fresh ground, one of our principle pleasures each morning when we’re cruising), and finally got underway again about 7:00 and made it all the way to Georgetown that day, a distance of about 55 miles!  See what two good nights’ sleep will do!  We promised to keep in touch with Bobby and Jan and have exchanged several e-mails, promising to try a trip to Maine in our two boats, perhaps next summer.

You see?  Angels everywhere.  Watching over us all night and all day, even in the Intra- Coastal Waterway.  Bob and I like to believe that we, in turn, have been angels for other cruisers during this past year’s adventure.  We have certainly tried.

click on the photos to enlarge

While at Daniel Island we learned of www.charlestonduckrace.org from the local newspaper and from exiting PUBLIX, a great United Way company always giving back to community, where Rotarians were pushing “adoptions”.

Close by, even with my bad back, within walking distance was the Route 526 Bridge spanning the Wando River. Five Rotary Clubs combined to sponsor and run the Charleston Duck Race (Rotary, too, has teamed up to help form United Ways abroad including the oldest United Way outside of the United States – Cape Town, South Africa established in 1928 and still functioning).

On Saturday morning while the tide was just right and Blair & Grace were still with us, they arranged to block one lane of Rt 526 traffic to bring a crane and truck up on the bridge and dump 30,000 little rubber ducks which then floated about ½ mile to the Daniel Island Community Dock. The first 30 to get to the dock shared $30,000 in prizes, with the top 10 also entered into an insurance company backed “lotto” for a million bucks.

 

The day before, unlike her father, Blair went on line and adopted 2 ducks at $10 a piece, even after we talked and decided whatever we win would also be split with the Pogues. Reluctantly I also bought two adoptions ($20) with the same sharing arrangement and Blair’s buddy, Hal Crowley – a Clemson wrestler – filed for adoption, too. I wasn’t sure if Blair told Hal about the sharing arrangement but we were so grateful to the Pogues that I was prepared to wrestle Hal to ensure the Pogue share, bad back and all.

 

Next morning, Grace and I walked over to the river to “spec” out the best place to photo the start of this great American epic. Hal came over with some ale instead of the “water beer” Blair was drinking which makes David Curry’s “ULTRA” beer taste like Guinness! Hal saved me from taking pain killers, too.

At 11:30AM, 30,000 ducks were launched with such dispatch that we never had a chance to name our beloved children/ducks. 

Watching them glide to earth/water, I felt like I was present at the Berlin Wall airlift in the 50’s without the frauleins or the pretzels. The tide took over and the race was on.

 

Well, it was exciting and between the ale and the prospect of winning, I might have walked a little more than I should have. Grace and I even took delight in watching the volunteer crews fish out many, many, large green trash barrels full of adopted losers. Yup, including ours! We didn’t win a thing and Hal luckily avoided wrestling me for the Pogue share. Aside from getting in the Wando water, Grace was destroyed. “This is the saddest day of my life” she remarked. I think she already spent and shared the money she was going to win. Seven year olds are like that. Actually, 67 year olds can get caught up in that, too. To bad for the Pogues!

     

South of Hilton Head I began to think something was wrong and once we anchored north and east of Paris Island of US Marine Corps fame, we knew it. In almost 10 feet of water off the main channel, we could hear a raspy sound and realized it was our centerboard scraping the sand on the bottom. 

 

 

 

 

 

Nina and Jan’s house is beautiful, overlooking a body of water alive with birds and other wildlife.

 

They had not fully unpacked, but were so proud of how GREEN their house is – heated and cooled with geo- thermal energy, employing almost all recycled materials including wall-covering made from blue denim, all sorts of beautiful woods imported from old buildings abroad or from domestic sources, and assortments of reused tiles and other well thought out materials.

A beaut of a storm came through while we had dinner.  Nina had to find candles when the power went out. She didn’t miss a beat. We realized that Paragon was about 15 -20 miles away at the marina, left totally open, so I called and had them close up the boat. This was a good move since when we got back to Beaufort, the streets were still flooded. Nothing worse than trying to sleep in a boat with totally soaked cushions and bedding. It was delightful to hook up with Jan after many years. The last time we saw him was in the Hamptons when we sailed up to Maine 5 years ago.

After asking around and checking at the docks, I realized there was not a lift big enough to lift our boat out without removing a lot of our standing rigging, so I decided to gamble and sail to Charleston where I knew of a lift which could accommodate us. The unknown was how deep the ICW was and whether our temporary fix would hold.

We made it, maybe 25 miles, but like our earlier visit to this yard in November, we hit the yard just before a holiday during which the yard would again be closed. We had the boat pulled and blocked before they closed and spent Memorial Day weekend living on the boat out of the water. This is never fun as one has to climb up and down a ladder to wash dishes off the boat and use the Yard’s rest rooms. Another negative is that without being in the water our cooling system would not work. We could not use our air conditioning and it was hot.

The good news is that we realized our stay coincided with Charleston’s famous Piccolo-Spoleto Festival – a highly organized yearly event of classical and chamber music, dance, and visual arts with more than 800 events over two weeks. We rented a car and drove into town for several musical events on Friday and Saturday. Pamela was in heaven.  Actually, so was I.

On Sunday, when the yard was still closed, we decided to work on the teak which had taken a beating in the Bahamas. We never were able to apply the necessary coats of varnish – Pamela says 3 or 4, I say 7 or 8 – and it showed. We take so much pride in Paragon that it’s painful when she does not look the way we know she can (even saying, this we still had people either stopping us to admire the boat or just taking our picture).

The plan was to drive back to Charleston for another concert that evening but we hit a glitch. I was on a ladder with my head about 8 feet off the ground when the ladder gave way and I fell. I was hurt and I was scared, flat on my back unable to move. Pamela heard the commotion and must have been petrified looking down on my “snow angel” pose without any snow. It took a while before I could move so I took inventory and realized everything worked. I got up slowly and struggled to replace the ladder so Pamela could get down.

Rather than attempting to climb the re-propped up ladder to limp back to my bunk, I elected to walk, painfully, to the shower to clean off the gravel and dirt and, hopefully, soothe my aches – mostly the lower back – with hot water. After that, I’m unsure how I got back to the boat and up the ladder and then down to my bunk. Pamela must have played a pivotal role.

I lay there for two full days before summoning the courage to get up and go to the hospital for X-Rays. I honestly didn’t think I had broken anything but rather thought I had a severe back spasm. The yard re-opened on Tuesday morning and our mechanic, George came on board joining Pamela in helping me get off the boat after I was able to show him how the centerboard was configured.

To my disappointment, at the hospital, my diagnosis was wrong. I had a 50% compression fracture of my first vertebra. Vicodin for pain and rest for me was the prescription. However, the best cures of all came in two ways:

1. We called Ben and Jerri Pogue who have a wonderful, 2 bedroom, ground floor condo on Daniel Island north of Charleston, 10 miles from the boat. They were not using it – turns out they were going to Peru – and encouraged us to stay. WHAT A GIFT! Even the fact that Jerri has more pillows than an occupation army came in handy. I used them all.

2. A few days later, there was a knock on the door. Pam was out, so I gingerly walked over to open the door and heard, “Hi, Papa!” Blair and Grace drove the 9 hours down to see for themselves if I was all right. It also helped that Blair went to college in South Carolina so she had a lot of buddies there. They, Blair and Grace, not the buddies, stayed a few days and we joked, when Blair came back at night, how nice it was to have her come all the way down to help. Yeah, right!

After 4 days, I stopped taking the Vicodin, relying on Tylenol and a little 7 year old girl and her mother, and her mother, for my healing. A temporary setback, but still an absolutely overall wonderful experience for Pamela and me.

As we went through the beautiful Bridge of Lions in St Augustine,

 

I thought I heard our transmission slipping again so we turned around and dropped anchor right at the Fort. It was getting late anyway and I didn’t want to be caught in the ICW without propulsion. After checking the transmission fluid in the light the next day – it looked fine – we dinghied over to the Municipal Marina, gladly paid the $10 to dock our dinghy and enjoyed their nicely kept showers.

While at anchor we saw Der Wolf , a dark blue, 46’ Bristol which went into the water with us 5 months earlier at the Charleston City Boat Yard up the Wando River. We also saw a 47’ Catalina which was in the Stocking Island race with us. It is not uncommon to recognize boats with which you were anchored or competing even many hundreds of miles away from first encounter and even in a different country! The cruising world is quite small. We often had people come up to us well after the Stocking Island Race on other islands, because they recognized the boat, or, as was the case at outdoor Mass on the beach/library grounds in Hope Town, they saw our “Paragon” shirts.

 We left St Augustine at dawn in miserable weather the next day and got up the ICW maybe 5 miles when the engine began to sputter again. Reluctantly, we turned back and, on the way to Camachee Cove Yacht Club & Marina, passed another boat we encountered multiple times in the Bahamas, Winfield Lash, a beautiful two masted schooner from Maine. We talked briefly by radio in pouring rain and wind, then sailed in ( I think this was number 4) without power, turning the motor on at the last minute in case it was needed. It wasn’t!

 

The Marina and the Camachee Yard

soon joined our “all star” team of marinas (see “SUPERLATIVES”). The yard manager checked our engine, a Perkins 4 108 Diesel, and gave me a few maintenance suggestions at a fee which we gladly paid – tighten freshwater pump, clean air intake, replace drive belt, which I did – before scheduling one of his men to pump out and replace our transmission fluid the next day. At the manager’s suggestion we put in heavier weight transmission fluid which made a lot of sense given the age of our motor.

Off we went, delighted when we passed the spot where we had turned around earlier. An hour later. the worst happened – we lost propulsion again only this time in the middle of nowhere! We limped along under jenny and mizzen in light air making less than 2 knots. We pulled off after a while and anchored, knowing full well we would have to sail off the anchor in a pretty narrow space. With everything quiet, I was surprised to see a small alligator about 15 yards away, not doing much, but at least more than we were.

Next day, again in very light wind, we sailed off our anchor relieved that we didn’t run aground. This time we couldn’t get the engine to start. I had two Racor replacement fuel filters and began to replace our existing filter thinking the problem was “bad diesel”. A day or two earlier, I had added a jerry jug full purchased in the Bahamas. Fearful that I was over my head and would have to “bleed” the fuel system, and even after a call to John Gregal, our friend and mechanic back home, I wisely backed off that idea.

Well after a couple of hours we did run aground, getting too close to the starboard bank! A large green trawler tried to help but he drew almost 1 ½ feet more than we did so that didn’t work. We called Tow BoatUS and the captain on duty told us he remembered us at Comachee a day or two earlier. He then said he’d have someone from the BoatUS station north of us lend us a hand.

While we waited, I overheard the sailboat Ziggy hailing us to see if we were all right. I looked up and realized we had met the skipper, Jack, in Bimini many months earlier. We talked for a short while and found he was headed to the free dock in Jacksonville for a few days. Had we connected with our friends Bob and Peggy Ware ,whom we had called a few times while in St Augustine, we would have opted to go to the free dock in their town to visit with them.

It wasn’t too long before TowBoatUS reached us. We deliberately sailed north albeit ever so slowly so that the boat coming for us would be from Jacksonville rather than being towed back to St Augustine. To our surprise, our rescue boat came all the way up from St Augustine. Turned out we were midway between the two stations and the Jacksonville boat was engaged “with a fuel issue at sea”. When the TowBoat from the north finished its call, that captain came down the ICW to relieve his colleague and we were handed off to him in one of the smoothest transfers we’ve ever seen on the water (probably because Pamela was at the wheel).

This captain towed us to Beeches Marina raving about Bobbie, the mechanic there. I told Bobbie my bad diesel theory . In five minutes he blew that theory out. When he took the fuel filter off, he sniffed and said, “This smells like gas”. Then it dawned on me. In the Abacos while we were experiencing refrigeration /cooking problems we depended on our wonderful Honda eu2000i gas powered generator. To ensure we had enough gasoline, I filled one of our 5 diesel jerry jugs with gas. Not thinking, I had added 5 gallons of gasoline to our diesel tank. Not good, not good!

Bobbie had a guy pump out the approximate 10 gallons of Gas/Diesel mixture, we put in another of my 5 gallon jerry jug’s filled with diesel and with a little “bleeding”, the engine started right up. We were “on the road again”.

 

This is a partial list and will be added to as we think of others

click on photos to enlarge

Dolphin (AKA porpoise) …..Alligator….. Sting Rays….. Nurse Shark….. Lemon Shark…..Bull Shark…..

 

 Barracuda Black Fin Tuna….. Snake (type unknown)….. Manatee….. White Pelican….. Brown Pelican….. Snowy Egret….. Osprey Eagle….. Sea Gulls….. Laughing Gulls….. Hawk….. Squirrel….. Pigs…..

 

Goats….. Lizards….. Iguana….. Sea Turtles (including a Diamond Back Terrapin)….. Cormorant….. Anhinga….. Roseate Spoonbill….. Terns….. Jelly Fish….. Man-0-War Jelly Fish

 Conch….. Mullet….. Crab….. Piping Plovers….. Giant Egret….. Gray Herons….. Green Herons….. Great Blue Heron….. Petrel….. Shearwaters….. Cows….. Chicken….. Rooster….. Peacock….. Mice….. Rats….. Dogs….. Cats….. Lion Fish….. Sergeant Major Fish….. Needle Fish….. Flying Fish….. Bees….. Spiders….. Butterflies….. Moths….. Parrots….. Cranes….. Woodcocks….. Mergansers

Deer….. Black Marys….. White Tailed Kite….. Star Fish…..

 

Sand Dollars (live)….. White Ibis….. Wood Stork….. Black or Turkey Vultures….. Sea Urchin….. Coral….. Horses….. Donkey….. Macaws….. Hog Snapper….. Dowitchers….. Canada Geese….. Flamingo Red Wing Black Birds….. Mocking Birds….. Pigeons….. Mourning Doves….. Barnacles….. Fiddler Crabs….. Grebes (ducks)….. Yellow-green Vireo (little bird) Swallow

 

mosquitos…..gnats…..Swan…..Dragon flies

No, it’s not “pillow talk”.  There is a jargon peculiar to each and every walk of life:  lawyers have their “habeas corpus”, carpenters have their “ball peen hammers”, clergy their “Dominus vobiscum”, doctors their “ACE Inhibitors”, teachers their “bell curve”, and so on.  I think part of the reason for this is to ensure that work and record-keeping are precise and confusion-free; I think the other part of the reason is to keep the rest of us out of the loop and in awe of such an exotic and secret language.  Mariners are no exception.

 

Set foot on a boat and you will enter a world of baffling “nauti-speak” where nothing is quite what it seems.  Here, in no particular order, are some of the more commonly used expressions we hear aboard Paragon:

 

A berth is a place where one sleeps …. There are several kinds, depending on their locations on the boat: quarter berth, V berth, etc.  Bob and I play a form of “Musical Berths” each night depending on where the breeze is, where the driest spot is, where the least clutter is.  We usually end up in the cockpit and I don’t know if that berth has a special name or not.

 

The cabin sole is the floor of the cabin and our dining table has a fiddle, a little raised ridge, all the way around it to keep our meals from sliding onto the cabin sole.  Why, “fiddle”?  I don’t know.

 

All ropes on a boat are called lines.  Some are highly specialized:  The halyards take sails up and down, the sheets move sails back and forth.  The painter attaches our little dinghy to Paragon.  The lazy-jacks help to hold our mainsail in place.  They are all lines.

 

Speaking of back and forth, the left side of any vessel is referred to as the port side and the right is the starboard side.  An easy way to remember this is to think, “The ship LEFT the PORT.”  All the windows are portholes, whether they are on the left side or not; there are no starboard holes.  Go figure.

 

The most important word of all may be HEAD.  Not bathroom, not loo, not lavatory, not men’s or ladies’ room and not john or privy.  It’s the head, and everyone sits down.

 

Add to that relatively short list: stays, shrouds, blocks, shackles and snap-shackles, sheep-shanks and bowlines, clews, binnacles, bow-sprits and we’ve not even begun to exhaust the lexicon of nautical terms.  I think it would take several lifetimes at sea to do so.

 

But, “Quick now!!  Belay the thimbles and clews! Clap on the mizzen mast with the snap-shackles!!  Weigh and reef the staysail!  All hands to port and pull, pull, PULL, ye lubbers!!!!  Now gimbal the fiddle and a-weigh we go!!”

 click to enlarge any photograph on this Blog

One of my joys in life is when a tool or an undertaking or a person or organization meets or exceeds my expectations every time. Too often, the antithesis is true. This trip overall, despite a number of set backs, has been so terrific, we won’t dwell on down side stuff.

This litany of “water-walker” mentions will be added to later since we are still on the trip and fully expect to be “wowed” again and again.  Here are my “off the top” superlatives in no particular order, except the first:

PAMELA MARIE BEGGAN…..Best friend, best lookout, cook, provisioner, etc, etc.

                                                She has a broad range of knowledge and interests and is 

                                                always willing to share them; a born teacher and she

                                                laughs at my jokes

GPS/CHART PLOTTER………..Dependable, accurate, and confidence boosting

20 KG (44.094 Lbs) BRUCE ANCHOR & CHAIN… Consistent performance even in the worst blows. It kept us safe when others dragged

 

 WATERS OF THE EXUMAS……..Often so clear, even looking down great depths, it looked like

                                          gin. All Bahamian water is exceptional, but Exuma gets it

SAN SALVADOR………For its history steeped in Columbus’  Discovery of the New World

THE HERMITAGE ON CAT ISLAND……Impressive in its design and strength and reverence – worth the hot climb up

 

 

 

 

 

 

IU2000i GENERATOR…….Dependable, easy to start, it kept us with power when all else failed – cooking, charging main & house batteries

WINDLASS……..A back saver and safe and efficient way to lift heavy anchor & chain manually even in the worst conditions

RATCHET WINCH HANDLE……Perfect compliment to the windlass, and also very useful with our two-speed winches

 

“EXPLORER CHARTS”………An absolute must when transiting the “Near Bahamas”.  “Far Bahamas” and the Abacos. As dependable as our GPS providing point to point distances and reciprocal headings, plus a wealth of information on what to expect and what to see and do

 

FLORIDA BRIDGE TENDERS…….Always efficient, helpful and respectful

PARAGON’S BIMINI TOP……Kept us from the burning rays of the sun & the drenching of rain

BAHAMIAN PEOPLE……….Ever friendly, courteous, fun-loving and willing to help. It is almost as if their kids are schooled in how to relate  to visitor/tourists. Years ago I would grab my kids or other kids if they didn’t say hello or were notrespectful. No need, in the Bahamas. They all got the “memo” and live it

 

 

PARAGON  HERSELF………..She performed brilliantly.We knew when she was happy and in the worst conditions she never let us down. Her 4’3” draft is perfect. It would be a bad day if we got less than 3 compliments on her

THE ROYAL BAHAMIAN DEFENCE FORCE MARCHING BAND……..Talented, gifted, colorful, funny and pride-giving performers who represent their country well

 

ATLANTIS SPACE SHUTTLE LAUNCH…….A marvel of engineering and bravery which filled us  with pride

TOWBOATUS……We got our $150 “unlimited towing” annual option worth evert penny 

FOUR OUTSTANDING MARINAS… MARINA AT EMERALD BAY, Great Exuma

                                                                 CAMACHEE YACHT CLUB, St Augustine, FL

                                                                 PORT ROYAL MARINA, Beaufort, SC

                                                                 BEAUFORT CITY MARINA, Beaufort, SC

Early in the trip we delighted over the large amount of “stuff” others have given us which made this trip more enjoyable. We’ll add more as we go along:

Jim Fletcher ……………..Cover for our American Flag

Jim Borches………………………..Cover for our generator

Frank & Ellen Kelly ……..Boat hook (which we gave to Canadian friends who lost theirs in George Town, Exumas)

                                       ……..Columbia UV Shirts

                                       ……..Knife their son Rich, a US Marshall, gave them

Bill Gard…………………………. Crate of oranges (GONE, saving us from scurvy)

                  …………………………Anchor

                  …………………………T-shirts                                                                        

Bill Blair …………………5 gallon jerry jugs for spare diesel fuel – invaluable

Mary McGowan …………………. CD of mood water & sailing music

Blair, Brendan, Kyle and Neal………….Awesome GPS/Chart plotter

Jim Hamrick……………….Plastic screw tray

                                  ………… Chart plotter wooden platform

                                  ..……… White New Zealand flag

Travis Twiggs………………………… USMC rappelling line, now our long dinghy painter

Al & Gail Johnson………… Bottles of booze (GONE), another reason we didn’t get Scurvy

                                     …………Cigars and leather cigar case

Joe Dare …………………………. Foul weather gear (which I wear proudly with a smile, and luckily, not too often)

JoeB and Paula Dare ………Bottle of Bailey’s (1 more reason we don’t have scurvy)

Jen Eichoff……………………….Flask of home made plum brandy – no scurvy here either!

Carol Kennedy …………….Shot Gun

                                …………….Bouquet of garlic (ALMOST GONE, one left saving us from the dreaded plague)

                                …………….SPCA T-shirt

Rick Sorber………………………Shot gun shells

Marse Dare…………………Wonderful “Care Package” air shipped to Cat Cay (GONE, but enjoyed weeks later and again

                                                                   protecting us from scurvy)

Jeff & Charlotte Hicks ……………..Sponsorship at Cat Cay                     

                                               …………….Loan of their golf cart on Cat Cay

Don & Marilyn Hicks  ……….two matching Bay House “huggies”

                                            ………a great dinner with a lot of memories

James Van der Klok ………………United Way Flag which we fly proudly

Tim’s River Shore Restaurant ………..Gift of their burgee which we flew throughout

                                                                             George Town Harbour, again with pride

Gene Diotalevi……………….Navigational charts (hard copy)

                              ……………….NAV Kit

                               ……………….Back up GPS

Brendan………………………complete set of Ian Fleming’s 007 books (some of which take place in the Bahamas!)

Mike & Kathy Thompson……………Bottle of wine GONE, you guessed it, no scurvy

Marjorie Mareck …………….Handmade Paragon decorations which charm every corner of the cabin

Neal…………Framed Japanese calligraphy of the Beggan name

          ………”The Thursday Night Sessions”  T- shirt

Neal & Stacey……………………….Berkleigh Karolina Beggan’s Photo Book and Nana’s memory book

Janice Hamm …………………Talking books

Steve Donock …………………………Loaned copy of “This was the Potomac River”

Pokey…………………………….Pumpkin (GONE), but thanks, Pokey, for the e-mails

Dick & Mary Lou Aft………………….Gift of “Global Vision & Local Action” The History of United Way International

Tuesday Night Singers’ Group…….Wonderful gift of an electronic keyboard and the dual gift of seeing Pam’s face when she plays

                                                                   and my pleasure at listening

Tom & Ginny Bridge ………………Portsmouth “Y” wind breaker

                                      …………………Sheet of postcard stamps to send back cards

                                      …………………Box of Debbie Meyer’s Green Bags, which work to keep fruits and veggies fresh

                                       .……………….A little pine scented candle for Christmas

Richie Brothers …………………..United Way of the Cape and Islands Sand Dollar decal which we display on our port side

Jackie & Bob Kenneally……………….Ditty bag which is full of much needed electrical cords

                                                .………………Stitched navy blue pillow:

                                                                       “Sailing is not a matter of life and death”.

                                                                         It’s more important than that.”

Grace Kelly ……………………………Penguin, which we have hung over Pamela’s bunk from the start.

Madison and Kaelan Beggan…………..Little “Bon Voyage” cards which are pocketed in their cousin’s penguin

Linda Sandbo…………………….CD of photos of our Around Stocking Island Race

Dwayne Sandbo………………………..Loan of his “Icey-Tek” 50 oz cooler after our fridge quit. A terrific act of sharing

Dave Hohike……………………..Grommet kit to repair the Tim’s Rivershore burgee

Pat and Lorrie Harris……………………Roll of TP (GONE)

Robin Prinz……………………….Information and post card of wonderful Elizabeth City

St Luke’s Day School staff………………School sweatshirt and a welcome variety of useful and beautiful additions to our boat life

Dick McCormack………..NASA “Young Astronauts” thermal blanket used during our “cold” times and in rain squalls to keep us dry

  

Also, Invaluable Gifts-In-Kind which allowed us to go

 

Mary Ann Heubusch………………….For storing our Spitfire

Pat & Larry Cundari………………………..For storing our antique chest

Jo Bennett…………………………….For storing our china and silverware

Kyle Beggan………………..For this Blog and showing how to use it

Kyle & Becca…………………….Use of their cellar for storing our belongings

Blair & Grace…………………………For taking loving care of Hagan

                       ……………………………For storing Bob’s Jeep

                       ……………………………For sorting our mail & paying bills

Janice Hamm……………………..For storing Pamela’s Jeep

The Wendt family………………………..For taking care of our house

Al Plivelich……………………….For storing our trailer

Ben & Jerri Pogue………………………..For use of their Condo and car when we broke  down in Charleston

Ben & Nina Pogue………………..For chauffeuring us and feeding us in Charleston

                                    ………………..For teaching us how to tune our flat screen TV

Marse Dare……………………………….For hosting, feeding, Dares Delighting, & driving and Care Packaging us

JoeB and Marse Dare………………..For arranging to store Paragon over the holidays

JoeB and Paula Dare………For sharing their home and lovely family with us on Christmas Eve

Mike & Kathy Thompson…………………For chauffeuring us in Wilmington, NC

Don & Marilyn Hicks ………..Gift driving our repair parts to Fort Lauderdale to ship them by air (TWICE)

Pat & Lorrie Harrris……….For dinghying us around while our dinghy was out of service

Jan & Nina Roosenberg……….For showing us their beautiful Bray Plantation & a great “candle lit” dinner in their new home

Ron Heinze……………For driving us to get a rental car and providing restaurant and Festival recommendations around Charleston

 

And countless others who helped when we needed it

 

 It takes a village to raise a child