Captain Blaine’s Blog

1300 hrs

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Willey’s Warf, Camden Maine

Hello Family and Friends,

After a fog filled morning of dodging lobster pots and searching for markers hidden from view by the dense fog, Zula arrived in Camden, Maine at 1300 on Thursday.

As promised, the crew promptly took showers and headed for some fresh lobster and a cold drink to celebrate our arrival.  The plan was to return to the boat for a nap and then refresh before hitting the town later that night.  Well, that was the plan…

We didn’t see the boat again until well into the night – or was it morning by then.  I don’t remember or I’m not saying.  One of those two. 

So, I will update the blog with a complete report of our last day and I might even share some of the stories from our time ashore.  Maybe.

For now, we’re off to Rockland to enjoy the Lobster Festival (when in Rome…) and then have to catch a very early flight home on Saturday. 

Thanks for riding along and I promise to post more pictures when I get back to Charleston. 

With my compass hungover,

bp

2200 hours
Wednesday, July 30, 2008

——————————————————————-
N 42 degrees 46 minutes
W 069 degrees 55 minutes
40 nautical miles east of the Massachusetts/New Hampshire line
Heading 035 degrees Magnetic @ 7 knots
Seas 1-2′ out of the south – winds SW < 10 knots
——————————————————————–

Hello Family and Friends -

The bright lights of Boston glow their golden hue all along the horizon
behind us. Those bright lights are in stark contrast to the dimly lit, less
populated coastlines of New Hampshire and Maine that still lie before us.
This is our last night at sea on this passage. And while the city lights
might call to some, for us they never even got a second look. It’s not that
we wouldn’t enjoy a bustling city, a rowdy pub or the thought of a five-star
hotel bed. Those things sound divine – to steal a word from a good friend.
But our minds – and our taste buds – have been firmly set upon the idea of a
Maine lobster dinner since the moment we pushed off the docks in Charleston.
So, by this time tomorrow, we will have plastic bibs tied around our necks,
butter dripping from our fingers and the sweet taste of fresh lobster upon
our lips.

Things like a lobster dinner in Maine or taking in a Broadway show if I
deliver to New York City are just some of the many perks of this business.
You know, “When in Rome…” Well, I eat steamed Blue Crabs when I’m in the
Chesapeake. I devour fresh grouper and peas-n-rice in the Bahamas, fish and
chips in Wales, and how can I resist that infamous Cheeseburger in Paradise
whenever I’m down island. And for those who can’t appreciate my white-man
dance moves in yesterday’s post, you should see me shake it with the locals
from the Bahamas to Grenada. There’s nothing like an island beat to get me
moving.

All are wonderful perks, but today, my friends, we took advantage of the
greatest perk of all : we spent two hours and went whale watching aboard
Zula.

Whoa there! Before you go judging us and saying things like, “hey, you’re
supposed to be working”, let me explain. When we left Atlantic City
yesterday, we knew we had to make a choice to either slow the boat down
significantly or spend the night in a marina somewhere along the way.
Distances and timing for things like getting through the Cape Cod Canal
during the daylight hours forced us to push hard throughout the day. But
our success in getting through the canal in daylight put our projected
arrival into the rock-strewn waters of Penobscot Bay sometime in the middle
of the night. And, folks, that’s not a good thing. We needed to waste a
few hours somewhere – for safety’s sake.

So, when we exited the eastern end of the Cape Cod Canal with a few hours to
kill, we diverted the half-hour over to Stellwagen Bank north of Cape Cod’s
Provincetown, which is famous for it’s summertime Humpback Whale population.
Our excitement grew quickly when we saw dozens of plumes from breaching
whales while we were still about two miles away. Pulling back the rpm’s on
the engines, we motored slowly closer to the area where we saw the plumes.
The closer we got, the more we slowed the boat until we were simply drifting
with the tide and wind right into a pod of a dozen or more magnificent – and
large – humpback whales.

I’m struggling to find the words to describe it to you – and you know I
NEVER run out of words! First, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the water
was a deep emerald green and as smooth as glass. Keep that in mind because
it will be important later. Second, we were not on any tour boat, nor were
we surrounded by other boats. For the first thirty minutes it was only us
and the whales. And, here’s the kicker, we must have showed up just at
feeding time – also important to keep in mind.

Now – have you got that set up in your mind? Clear skies, crystal clear
water, clear uninterrupted views and clearly the best show on earth!

Stay with me now. When a Humpback feeds, they churn up the water below the
surface and force their prey upward, concentrating them into a confined
area. When the water is as smooth and clear as it was today, you could
easily see where the whales were working towards the surface. Then with a
roar of water rushing off of their heads they open their mouths and break
the surface by nearly six feet – and just ’stand’ there with their mouths
open as the food is filtered into their baleen gills. When they have taken
their fill, the whales roll over very gracefully, pushing their heads back
under the water as their body arches like a serpent until their huge,
distinctive tails are pushed into the air – throwing even more water -
before either slipping gently into the water or smacking the water with an
incredible ‘THUD’ and beginning the process all over again.

The whales would surface in pairs – sometimes three at a time within a
twenty foot area – as they worked together. So, there we are with cameras
in hand watching the tell-tale signs of their impending surfacing because
the water is so clear and calm. But each time they came up, it was like
seeing it for the first time again and again. We were in complete awe and
giggling like little kids seeing the circus or some astounding magic trick
for the very first time. Two whales came so close to the boat – within ten
feet – that we thought they would surely hit the us as they dove into the
deep again. When they gracefully dove under the boat without even a ripple
against the hull, Heath got so excited that he did what could only be
described as the Lucky Charms dance. Okay, so maybe we all did a little
dance and laughed like children.

It was magical and it lasted for nearly two hours before the whales began to
swim back off toward the deeper waters. Their movements were graceful and
effortless, but there was also this great sense of power and strength as
they moved away, smacking their tails from time to time and throwing water
ten feet into the air.

My camera is filled with photos and videos from that little diversion and I
can say with absolute certainty that those two hours of whale watching were
the best ‘waste’ of time I’ve ever spent. And, yes, the photos will be on
the website as soon as I get a good internet connection ashore.

But just when I thought that the whales were the story of the day, I was
shaken from my computer by the sound of Heath screaming bloody murder at the
top of his lungs from the fly bridge, followed by the sound of running feet
all over the deck — at 2 AM in the morning. Of course, I jump from my seat
and go racing to see what all the fuss is. I couldn’t tell if we were being
attacked by pirates or if he had gotten his hand stuck in some mechanical
component. Heath was up there alone on watch and the screaming didn’t let
up until I reached the top of the stairs leading out to the fly bridge.
When I got there I saw not one, but two sets of wild eyes staring back at
me.

One set belonged to Heath who had obviously been attacked because he was
shaking off the blows to his head and neck. The other set belonged to the
cutest little bird you’ve ever seen. To hear Heath tell it, he was reading
my James Patterson book and he was just at a very suspenseful part when the
bird flew right into his head, got stuck in his hair and then stuck in the
collar of his jacket. They were both wailing and flailing trying to get
loose of each other. Heath was screaming and the bird, well, he just wanted
out.

My stomach and knees are still sore from laughing until I fell to my knees.
Poor Heath is back on watch up there on the fly bridge. I’m just not sure
he’s looking for boat traffic as much as he’s expecting another bird to
smack him in the head. Damn, that was funny.

Wishing you could all join us for lobster tomorrow,

bp

Captain H. Blaine Parks
USCG 50 Ton Master
Parks Marine Services
P.O. Box 12006
Charleston, SC 29422
(843) 870-1424
www.parksmarineservices.com
www.CaptainBlainesBlog.com

2200 hours
Tuesday, July 29, 2008

——————————————————————-
N 40 degrees 05 minutes
W 073 degrees 0 minutes
30 nautical miles southeast of Sandy Hook, NJ
Heading 064 degrees Magnetic @ 11.5 knots
Seas 1-2′ out of the south – winds SW @ 10 knots
——————————————————————–

Hello Family and Friends -

It was my turn to make breakfast for the crew this morning, so there I was
at 0730 dancing around the galley to Barry White’s sultry ‘Can’t Enough Of
Your Love, Babe’ playing on my iPod while I flipped omelets and sausage
patties between my twists, drops and twirls. The ocean was a glassy calm,
the sun a ball of orange on its way up in the eastern sky and the boat
grooving along at 15 knots. It was going to be a good day. I just knew it
as Jeff and Heath laughed at my white-man dance moves and begged for their
breakfasts.

Oh yeah, I definitely can’t get enough of Mother Ocean’s love. She makes me
sing and dance every time I wake up to days like this out here. Maybe the
more appropriate song would have been Barry’s ‘Never, Never Gonna Give You
Up’. Either way, you just can’t beat a day that starts with dancing,
laughing, friends and my patented (and very delicious) omelets.

Another good friend texted me today and told me that I ‘ain’t right’ – and
she hadn’t even witnessed my dancing cook routine. My reply was that
perhaps normal was overrated. I’m shooting for extraordinary and if living
that way ‘ain’t right’ then sign me up. Because until you have the chance
to wake up on an ocean like this – you ain’t right either!

Soon after breakfast, I took my turn at the helm on the upper fly bridge for
the 0800-Noon watch – iPod still blasting – and pointed Zula straight to
shore for our scheduled fuel stop in Atlantic City, NJ. The sun quickly
brought up the daily temperature to around 80 degrees. Heath enjoyed the
sun and did his daily stretching on the bow. I took advantage of the upper
deck for my daily workout (push-ups, chin ups, stretches and some stomach
work), letting the sun soak into my skin. The horizon stretched clear and
bright in every direction. Perfection on the water – absolute perfection -
and it was great to be at sea with two kindred spirits who knew how special
these days are. I danced through my entire four-hour watch. Heck, at one
point I was busting out my best 80’s dance moves and singing It’s Raining
Men at the top of my lungs. Okay, so maybe I ain’t right — but I’m damned
sure having a good time.

Then at noon, the skyline of Atlantic City appeared off our bow. It was
time to get down to work preparing lines and fenders for our fuel stop.
Local charts were dragged out and reviewed again for our entrance into the
channel. We called the marina to make sure there was room for us at the
fuel dock. Heath took the controls since he’s the captain on this run. I
took my place beside him, helping navigate around shoals and acting as an
additional set of eyes. Jeff prepped the boat for docking. Everyone had a
job. There was no need for talking. We knew what to do and we looked the
part as we deftly tossed our docklines across the water to the waiting
marina staff and Heath put Zula against the dock with a very soft bump. You
have to look good when running a yacht like this because everyone is
watching. And we looked great!

1200 gallons of fuel later, we reversed the process and headed back out to
sea again. Our course will take us up the New Jersey coastline, past Sandy
Hook – the main entrance to New York Harbor, south of Long Island and past
Block Island as we head up Buzzard’s Bay and into the Cape Cod Canal. Once
through the Canal, we will push on to the north for the remaining 170
nautical miles into Camden. Two more days of travel if everything goes as
planned.

All told, we were in port less than two hours today. I stepped ashore for
ten minutes. Not to just go ‘ashore’, but to roll around on the marina
store’s floor with their 9-month old black lab puppy. Already weighing in
about 60 lbs, me and the lab exchanged jabs, kisses and head butts, laughing
the entire time. It was at the end of our playtime, however, that I got the
most precious gift. He gave me a soft Labrador hug on my arm with his
mouth, something that my own Golden Retriever, Bailey, had always done as a
sign of affection. Bailey’s gone now, but that black Labrador reminded me
just how much love these animals have to offer.

Once back at sea, I returned to my iPod – my dancing now a bit more mellow.
When we were safely away from the channel markers and other hazards, I went
to the stern and scooped up a handful of sea water, letting it run over my
face. I do this every time I go to sea but have never mentioned it my other
blogs. It’s appropriate today, however. You see, Bailey’s ashes were taken
to sea in honor of his (and his brother Max’s) 25,000 miles of sea time with
my ex-wife and me. I like to believe his soul now watches over me as I
cross oceans. I ceremoniously cover my face in a handful of sea water and
say hello to him every time I clear the buoys heading for sea. Today the
water was a little saltier than usual. I might have added a few tears to the
ritual.

So, maybe I ain’t right. Or perhaps, just maybe, I got it absolutely right.
I may never know, but I’ll keep dancing, laughing and loving Mother Ocean.
And I’ll begin each dance with a handful of sea water.

With a wet face and our compass pointed northeast,

bp

Captain H. Blaine Parks
USCG 50 Ton Master
Parks Marine Services
P.O. Box 12006
Charleston, SC 29422
(843) 870-1424
www.parksmarineservices.com
www.CaptainBlainesBlog.com

2100 hours
July 28, 2008

——————————————————————-
N 36 degrees 27 minutes
W 075 degrees 01 minutes
40 nautical miles east Currituck Beach, North Carolina
Heading 017 degrees Magnetic @ 10 knots
Seas 1-3′ out of the south – winds SW @ 10 knots
——————————————————————–

Hello Family and Friends -

Just moments ago a piercing alarm screamed its warning and shattered the
peaceful confines of Zula’s wheel-house. I had the watch, Jeff was on
stand-by resting in the small bunk in the wheel-house, and Heath was
sleeping – though I heard his footsteps on the stairs almost as soon as I
heard the alarm. All hands were now fully awake and every light we could
find was quickly switched on. The alarm continued to wail as we searched
for the source.

All navigation, engine and fire control systems showed normal – our first
concern. Following the sound, we were lead back to the ship’s VHF radio. We
quickly realized that we had just received an automated emergency distress
transmission from another vessel. The only problem was that there was no
identifying information included with the distress call — and nobody
followed up the distress transmission with a voice call – no Mayday, no Pan
Pan or Security calls.

We waited and continued to listen. Our first
responsibility in these situations is to leave the frequency clear to allow
the boat in distress to transmit their emergency without interruption. Ten
minutes and still no call and no additional information. We continued
waiting, knowing that the next call we heard should be the US Coast Guard
reporting the call and asking for any vessel hearing the call to check in
with the Coast Guard.

Right on cue, the Coast Guard called and we responded as required. We gave
our vessel name, position
and reported that there was no further information received in regards to
the call either via the digital distress system or via a voice call from
another vessel. In short – we received an alarm, but nothing to
substantiate it. Then, a minute or two into our discussion with the Coast
Guard, another station broke in – Cape Henry’s Pilot Station – reporting
that they believe the distress was accidentally set off from one of their
many radios used to contact ships as they approach the Chesapeake Bay. And
they were fairly confident that the alarm was indeed from their systems.

So, alarms now quiet and the mystery solved, our crew was off the hook. I
checked out with the Coast Guard, after giving them the height of our VHF
antenna so they can approximate from how far away we could have heard the
alarm, and
went back to my watch. Heath went back to his bunk and Jeff is now
scribbling furiously on his own keyboard as he tries to instill the habit of
journaling in his own life.

On a side note, I just learned that Jeff, only 19, has already hiked
approximately 150 miles of the Appalachian Trail. And I already knew he has
nearly enough time on the water to be considering sitting for his Captain’s
license. Sounds to me like he definitely needs to be keeping a journal.
Adventures – and those who seek them out – are becoming pretty rare in this
day and age. Nice to see another generation still chasing those types of
experiences. I for one, want him to keep a log so I can read those exciting
excerpts from my bunk in the old folks ship (kind of like an old folks home)
when I’m out of energy for my own adventures.

As Jeff closes his log for the day and slips off to his bunk, the boat
becomes peaceful again. The relaxing laughs and spirited conversation among
the crew from earlier in the day is replaced each evening with solitude and
darkness as we peek out through thick glass windows in search of hazards -
some seen and some hidden in the haze of night. The instruments glow red
and orange, each telling us something important – speed, course, radar
targets and a complete array of engine statistics. It is the time of day
when I often write to you from sea – my quiet time, my time for reflecting
upon the day, the crew and those back home who keep me in their thoughts
each day.

And occasionally, among all that quiet – comes a piercing alarm reminding us
that what we do out here has to be taken very seriously. If not, perhaps
the next alarm heard on the deck of vessels across the ocean may be from a
boat under our command. Carelessness is not often tolerated by Mother
Nature and is even less often rewarded.

Signing off with you tonight as the Coast Guard continues to issue a Pan Pan
alert regarding that earlier emergency distress signal. You see, the Cape
Henry Pilot tower is ‘pretty’ sure it was their radio, but if they’re wrong,
then somebody – just like me – may be out there struggling to survive and
notify others of their emergency. So, we watch, we listen and the Coast
Guard continues to issue the report.

Wishing you all a ‘no-alarm’ evening,

bp

Captain H. Blaine Parks
USCG 50 Ton Master
Parks Marine Services
P.O. Box 12006
Charleston, SC 29422
(843) 870-1424
www.parksmarineservices.com
www.CaptainBlainesBlog.com

.

2200 Hrs
July 27, 2008

—————————————————-
N 33 degrees 35 minutes
W 077 degrees 39 minutes
Just abeam of Frying Pan Shoals – North Carolina
Heading 066 degrees Magnetic 11.4 knots
Seas 2-3′ out of the south – winds sw @ 10-15
——————————————————

Hello Family and Friends,

Home. For most that word is immediately associated with houses, yards, pets
and plants. For me, it is the ocean and after almost ten days in port, I
was ready to set off again – to return ‘home’. And when you can combine the
luxury of a large motor yacht with a beautiful, calm ocean – there is
absolutely no place like home.

Since this is the first day of this particular journey, let me introduce you
to the boat and the ship’s plan. I am writing you from the wheelhouse of
M/V Zula, a very comfortable and well-appointed 70′ Marlow motor yacht. We
departed Charleston’s City Marina just before 1100 today and, after a couple
of quick circles to recalibrate our auto-pilot’s compass, we exited the
Charleston jetties around noon and set a northeasterly course making 12
knots.

Our destination is Camden, Maine – a lovely waterfront town if you’ve not
passed that way before. I am acting as a ’second’ captain on this vessel,
deferring all the difficult decisions and ultimate control of the vessel to
my friend Heath Hackett. Heath owns Captain’s Choice Yacht Management in
Charleston and often asks me to join him on these larger yacht runs.
Insurance companies will normally require at least two licensed captains for
vessels this size (or larger) whenever an offshore passage runs as a
24-hour/day operation. We’re also joined by Jeff – a college-aged friend of
Heath’s with a sport-fishing background. Jeff is trying to get more hours
offshore to put on his upcoming application for his own Captain’s license.

Our crew is running an around-the-clock watch schedule with everyone working
two four hour watches per day. So, that’s four hours on and eight off. Not
a bad schedule at all. I’m responsible for dinner since my watch begins at
8 pm. Jeff will take care of breakfast and Heath will surprise us with
lunches.

So, those are the ‘details’ of the voyage. The finer points that may come
into play later are that this boat, which I’ve helped run up and down the
coast twice now – was recently struck by lightening and endured a boggling
amount of damage to the ship’s electronics. The vessel underwent a massive
electronic repair and passed a recent sea-trial after those repairs. Even
so, we still needed to calibrate the ship’s auto-pilot compass before
leaving Charleston. And, we also found a problem with our auto-pilot as we
were departing Charleston Harbor. Both are now fixed and working properly.

But, with any lightening strike there is often hidden damage to the
electronics that may not be immediately evident, so we are watching
everything very closely and double checking all our navigation with paper
charts every hour. We started with checks every 30 minutes, but our
confidence in the accuracy and reliability of the electronics is growing.
So, now we’re logging these things on an hourly basis.

As I write this to you tonight, we have just passed the infamous Frying Pan
Shoals, slightly northeast of the Cape Fear River entrance, North Carolina.
Our
next turn is 75 miles away at Cape Lookout. From there we’ll turn more
northerly and head around Cape Hatteras, a piece of water that demands your
attention and respect, before running the rest of the way up the coast,
through the Cape Cod Canal and then into Maine

Of course, because we’re burning an average of 30 gallons per hour (do the
math on cost of that one!), we’ll need to refuel at least once on this trip,
probably in either Virginia Beach or Atlantic City, NJ.

Well, , I think that’s enough for one day. This is my first attempt at
posting
to the blog from sea, so if it doesn’t come out just right – have patience
with me. I’m also not sure if photographs will work correctly, so I’ll send
them as separate posts to the site.

Happy to have you with us. This trip always brings some great stories and
sights. Whales are very abundant as we move north this time of year and
we’ll
pass close to New York City, Block Island and other well-known landmarks.

I’ll keep you posted and, of course, you’re always welcome to email me on
the boat if
you have my business email address – most of you do (hint : my name at
parksmarineservices.com). No large photos or attachments please since I use
a satellite phone which is very slow (and expensive) to download larger
files.

Wishing you a star-filled night from Zula’s air-conditioned wheel house as
we
motor north across a dark ocean off of the North Carolina coast.

bp

Captain H. Blaine Parks
USCG 50 Ton Master
Parks Marine Services
P.O. Box 12006
Charleston, SC 29422
(843) 870-1424
www.parksmarineservices.com
www.CaptainBlainesBlog.com

July 27, 2008

Hello Family and Friends -

Welcome to another offshore delivery. This trip begins in Charleston, SC
with a final destination of Camden, Maine.

Motor Vessel (M/V) Zula is a 70′ Marlow luxury yacht that I have had the
pleasure of moving twice before. I am not the ‘captain’ for this vessel
Instead, my position is to act as a second captain, which is often required
on this size yacht during any offshore passage (insurance requirements). I
was hired by my friend Heath Hackett who owns Captain’s Choice Yacht
Management in Charleston. We also have a younger (college age) member,
Jeff, along for this trip.

The run should take about four days of travel to complete, plus a day or so
for refueling along the way.

Thanks for joining us and let’s let this adventure begin.

All the best,

bp

Captain H. Blaine Parks
USCG 50 Ton Master
Parks Marine Services
P.O. Box 12006
Charleston, SC 29422
(843) 870-1424
www.parksmarineservices.com
www.CaptainBlainesBlog.com