Captain Blaine’s Blog

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Position
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N 32 degrees 03 minutes
W 080 degrees 04 minutes
Course 222 True @ 5.5 knots
Motoring – approx. 20 miles east of Hilton Head
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Hello Family and Friends,

It was a little before 0530 this morning when I eased my way out of the cockpit and along the starboard rail to the stern of Marinette. Checking my harness and tether, I unfastened the safety gate for the stern swim platform and carefully climbed down the two steps to the platform in the early morning darkness.  I knew Kristofer would be angry with me for being here while he was still asleep, but there are times when a man needs a little privacy. This was one of those times.

Getting onto my knees I said my private prayer that I say each time I perform this ritual before reaching out and thrusting my hand into the inky black water. Pulling up a handful of salty sea water, I drenched my face in the water and cried silently for a few moments. Like I said, there are times when a man requires a little privacy.

I guess you’re wondering what was I doing? I was saying hello to my two Golden Retrievers, Max and Bailey, whose ashes were spread just east of the Charleston buoys this last year. Their story is too special to shorten for this blog, but suffice to say that they did just about everything in their lifetime from sailing, to riding motorcycles for charity to having their 15 seconds of fame on the covers of magazines and the CBS Early Show. They were a huge part of my life and I miss them dearly with each passing day.

So, each time I enter, exit or pass Charleston Harbor I reach down and scoop up a face full of water. Because if you’ve ever owned Goldens, getting a kiss from one of them is just like that – you come away soaked, salty and laughing. This time was a little more emotional than before because for the first time, both Max and Bailey were out here. Until recently, it was just Bailey.

And that’s how I started the day – with a prayer, a few tears, a gentle smile and memories that will make me laugh for a lifetime. Oh, and I made Kristofer and myself an egg and cheese bagel for breakfast, too!

I spent the rest of the day thinking mostly. The weather was superb with clear warm skies and gentle rolling seas. A perfect day for lazing around the boat, writing to my friends back home and reflecting on my life – past, present and future. You’ve heard me say it before, time for reflection is one of the great gifts you receive when you head to sea.

As the day came to close, Kristofer and I climbed into the cockpit to witness the sunset. To starboard, the sun dipped below the clear horizon and immediately painted the sky a deep purple and pink for as far as you could see. And, if you looked over your shoulder, the full moon was already climbing into the sky painting the other half of the horizon in tones of blue and gray.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, my morning prayer was answered. Remember that private prayer? Two dolphins – more later – but two lone dolphins at first, swam up to the boat just as the sun was setting. And they didn’t go directly to the bow like most dolphins do, they came to the stern of the boat where Kristofer and I were standing.

I had prayed that Max and Bailey would visit me tonight for a little support before my mom goes into surgery tomorrow. And while it may sound crazy – the dolphins arrived just as I’d asked.

You can decide for yourself.

While my day couldn’t have been more perfect, the day’s excitement wasn’t quite over. At 1930, Kristofer and I both raced to the helm as we heard a frantic radio call – Mayday, Mayday, Mayday….

A 50′ sailboat had run into the jetties off of St. Mary’s inlet in the dark and was slowly sinking with three people aboard. I know that inlet well and described it to Kristofer so he could understand what probably happened.

St. Mary’s is much like Charleston in that a pair of rock jetties run a mile or more out into the sea to protect the entrance from filling in with sand as the storms rage up and down the coast. At high tide – especially on the higher tides of a full moon, the rocks can become completely hidden from view. If you don’t have a chart or don’t know about the jetties, the hazard is completely submerged at high tide.

The details haven’t become known yet, but I’m sure it will make tomorrow’s headlines in Fernandina Beach and there’s a good chance that the full moon – with all it’s great visibility – was also the culprit that caused the tide to be higher and gave a sense of safety to a boat where no safety was to be found. They struck the rocks, holed the boat and immediately called for help.

As I wrap this up, there are boats positioning themselves for the salvage rights to the boat – which happens to still be afloat. The vessel’s crew was safely removed from the boat, so nobody lost their life. But as soon as they stepped off the boat, the boat became fair property to anyone who attempts to (and successfully) saves the boat.

And it was just a few days ago when I was talking about those old navigation skills and not trusting electronics completely.

God Bless the crew of that boat and may the rest of us out here not come upon the same fate.

Please remember my mother and Kristofer’s family in your prayers tonight. Mom’s surgery begins at 0915 tomorrow morning and the storm will hit Puerto Rico tomorrow night.

With no holes in our boat,

Blaine and Tofer
Delivery Crew

Monday, October 13, 2008

Position
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N 33 degrees 30 minutes
W 078 degrees 02 minutes
Course 260 True @ 6.8 knots
Sailing – just rounded Frying Pan Shoals, NC
——————————————–

Hello Family and Friends,

Monday – the beginning of most work weeks, but the fourth day in this nonstop run from New York City to Florida for Kristofer and I aboard Marinette. So, I don’t want to read any whining emails about having to drag yourselves out of your bunks and off to work today. *smile* At least (most of) you get to leave the office and head home after work. Our jobs require us to sleep where we work until the job is finished.

And while that is usually a wonderful perk of the job, we’ve had two things happen recently that are making it a very trying delivery for both Kristofer and me. Perhaps some cheering and praying for us back home will make it easier for us. So, let me tell you what’s going on.

Let’s start with Kristofer – aka Captain Burton or Cap’n Tofer as we call him. I met Kristofer in Charleston several years back as he sailed in with his family aboard his own boat – a 41′ custom aluminum sloop. I’d never seen so many happy faces on one boat. He, his wife, his 5 children and two troubled teens that he was working with all sailed in on this 41′ boat. You would have thought CHAOS – but not on Tofer’s boat – it was calm and orderly. Right up until he slammed into another boat while trying to dock.

It wasn’t my boat – and it wasn’t his fault – but that was how we came to meet. What I learned over time is that he and his wife had owned a home/school for troubled boys out west before they left it in the hands of some able people and went sailing – continuing to work with troubled youth on the boat. They were back in Charleston because two of the boys had burned their house, business and everything else to the ground. Just like that, the Burton’s lost their business, their income and their ability to sail.

It had to be one of the worst stories I’d ever heard – and yet, through it all, this family stuck together and made the best of it. Working where they could to make enough money to continue sailing. I immediately put Tofer to work with my company and have never regretted it since.

Well, that’s the back story. Now let’s return to the more recent events. I heard his phone ring about 9am while I was sleeping in the forward cabin. We knew it was a possibility but now the news was concrete – there was a storm forming south of Puerto Rico and all the weather models had it  becoming a hurricane and heading right for Kristofer’s boat and family, currently anchored in Puerto Rico.

Although we were twenty miles offshore, we immediately turned the boat for  shore. If the storm was going to hit, Kristofer wanted to be there. It would certainly put a strain on me and this delivery, but at the core of everything, family has to be a higher priority than work.

He was distraught trying to figure out the best strategy for preparing the boat and his family for the storm. The phone was a constant buzz of information coming from Puerto Rico, but it didn’t hit him until about noon. Even if we got him to shore, and put him on a plane, he probably still wouldn’t get there in time to help before the storm hit early Wednesday morning. So – tough decision for him.

He’s playing Captain on this run (I’m crewing for him) and he decided that the best he can do is push the boat hard to St. Augustine for a Wednesday arrival and if the storm does hit, he can fly into Puerto Rico after the storm. I would continue on to Ft. Lauderdale and provide the offshore training for the boat’s owner.

So – please say a prayer for Kristofer and his family in Puerto Rico. We all know how devastating storms can be on those islands and even more so when your boat is tied up deep in the mangroves hoping to avoid the worst of the storm. His family doesn’t need another major disaster in their lives. And then there’s my issue. If you’ve read my blog, you know that business was very slow in the late summer and I’m facing some huge financial obstacles to keep myself afloat. Hence, I signed on for crew on a delivery that I had already assigned to Kristofer. To put it in perspective – I’m working for half wages and am very happy for the work.

Anyway – on Wednesday, the same day as the storm is supposed to hit Puerto Rico, my mother goes in for another surgery. Her health is riddled with one surgery after another lately but this one is to remove some cancer that they found in one of her kidneys. The doctors are pretty upbeat about the  whole thing, but this is still surgery and, of course, it is still my mother and I’m worried sick about her.

Yet, here we are at ‘work’ instead of with our families, trying to make enough money to survive in this economy. So, yet again, I believe we have to rely on our friends.

Kristofer’s family has a friend who has helped them prepare the boat and they will move off the boat and into a local hotel if the storm reaches hurricane strength.

I’ve been in touch with my folks and will continue to email them until my mom goes into surgery on Wednesday morning. I’ll be at sea – not by her side – and will have to wait for an email from my dad regarding the success of her operation. I won’t be able to send flowers, a card or anything other than an email to my dad to pass along my love to her. It will be a very trying time.

Again – a little prayer for support might be helpful. If you don’t pray, I can respect that too. How about just some good thoughts, something for the big box of karma that might help. Anything is appreciated.

So holding our breath with fingers crossed, we continue south towards St. Augustine and Wednesday. It seems like October 15 will be an important  day for the entire crew out here.

With our compass pointed south and our hearts caught up in the job,

Cap’n Blaine (crew) and Topher (Cap’n)

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Position
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N 34 degrees 34 minutes
W 075 degrees 54 minutes
Course 220 True @ 7.0 knots
Motorsailing
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Hello Family and Friends,

I’d like to tell you how difficult a passage these coastal runs are in terms of challenging navigation, currents and other pirate tall tales, but I just can’t seem to do it with a straight face. I’d like to stick out my chest and tell you that only I, master of the seas with my magic Sinbad belt, could safely survive such a passage. But again – not with a straight face.

So what’s a writer to do? I’ll try the truth and see how that works.

Back in the days of tall ships, where navigation was done with a compass, the stars, a sextant and some basic trigonometry there were no real short cuts to staying on course. You either did daily star or sun sightings to plot your position – or you simply guessed. You heard right – you guessed. It was an educated guess based on dead reckoning: I know I was here yesterday, have been traveling for X amount of time on a course of Y so I should be about HERE – mark your guess on the chart)

Today’s modern yachts have simplified the problem of navigation with their myriad of electronic gadgets and gizmos that go beep, blink and flash warnings. If you have a PhD in electronics, you’re now an expert navigator. If you’re also wealthy enough to afford the boat – you’re an expert navigator and a Captain. But has it really become that simple?

The answer is yes – and no.

When everything works (electronically) and you have the correct electronic chart, a working GPS, and the ability to understand what these devices are telling you – navigating a boat is much like a video game. You point the cursor to where you want to go, hit ‘go to’ and the chart plots your course for you. If you have an autopilot – that’s like an electronic version of the driver in Driving Miss Daisy – you turn your boat onto the course suggested by your GPS, hit AUTO on the autopilot and grab yourself something cold to drink while the boat does all the work. Maybe you and the missus can snuggle up in the cockpit and wonder how the poor people are doing today.

So, with all this technology – and if it’s really that easy – why would anyone hire me – the Delivery Captain – to move their boat? The answer is simple. I’m the guy who can still get there even when all those fancy electronics fail. And most people purchasing boats these days are investing in redundant electronic charting devices rather than investing in a maritime education.

Give a paper chart, set of dividers, parallel ruler and a pencil to today’s ‘Modern Yachtsman’ and he’ll thank you for the antiques and compliment you on the ‘nautical gift.’ Hand them to me and I’ll chart you a course anywhere in the world. Ask the same Yachtsman about set, drift or what the Pilot Chart says about traveling these waters this time of year and he’ll scratch his head while stirring his cocktail. I’ll grab the correct pilot chart and  explain how the wind and currents will affect our set and drift for each course we choose. And if all that simple stuff doesn’t stump you, then there is always the inch thick book regarding the ‘Rules of the Road’ for understanding who has right of way in every possible situation.

So, why all the rhetoric in my blog about navigation today? Because I think the problem may be bigger than just boat navigation. We can spin numbers faster than ever in today’s computers. We can analyze data, compare, contrast and compile reports to suggest just about anything. But at the very core of everything these electronic devices can do lies a small cadre of individuals who still understand WHY they do what they do and the theories behind it.

As more and more of us rely on electronics to ease our workload, make us more efficient and do the complicated calculations for us – we’re slowly finding ourselves in situations much like my friend the ‘Modern Yachtsman’ : lost at sea when the power plug is pulled.

I find it humorous that after 44 years of living, I’ve finally learned the lesson my grumpy, hard to keep up with math teacher was trying to teach me long, long ago. We really do need to understand how to do long-hand division. Ugh!

So, I’ll continue to ponder that thought while Marinette steers herself southward using this fancy autopilot and high-tech chart plotter. But we also keep an hourly log of our position, double check it on the paper charts when we pass buoys and keep our trusted coastal navigation rule in the forefront of our minds. If we forget everything else we never forget these simple rules while delivering yachts up and down the US coastline :

1. ORLL – when traveling north
2. OLLR – when traveling south

Those two rules – just an acronym – work every time. Since we’re going south this time we are applying rule #2 – OLLR which stands for Ocean Left Land Right. And last I checked, I still had land on my right and ocean to my left so I must be going south. Perfect.

Ah, the complicated calculations we do out here at sea. Now just where did I put that calculator.

Take a moment or two today and try to do something the ‘old’ way. Have dinner with your family – no rushing. Read a book rather than watching television. Go for a walk rather than watching a reality show where people take walks. Bake cookies with your kids or teach them how to make pizza dough from scratch – don’t forget to toss it in the air. Or my favorite – call that special someone and tell them you love them – don’t text it!

Maybe if we all slowed down for just a moment – collectively – we as a nation could see our way forward a little more clearly. I know coming back to sea has slowed me down enough to see many things more clearly.

With paper charts, pencils and a brain,

Cap’n Blaine

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Position
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N 37 degrees 27 minutes
W 075 degrees 08 minutes
Course 186 True @ 7.2 knots
Motorsailing
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Hello Family and Friends

Another day at sea and I’m reminded why I love this job so much. It certainly isn’t the 30+ knots of wind we’ve had or the fun of rolling around in 8-10′ seas as they break all around us. Those things are to be expected when you go to sea. No, for me it is the simplicity of life out here.

Life moves so fast ashore these days that I wonder how anyone can get anything done in between phone calls, emails, text messages and the variety of web pages we must search each day to stay in touch with friends or catch up on the latest news or gossip. Trust me, I am just as guilty of these things when ashore. But once the docklines are untied, 90% of those distractions disappear leaving only the ocean, the occasional phone call and my sat phone email – which surprisingly is less busy than you might imagine.

Out here I am given the chance to breathe, look around and really take in the beauty of each day. It’s something I remember doing much more often when I was younger and something I keep saying I’ll do more of when I’m ashore. But as soon as I hit dry land, the barrage of distractions hits like an untamed addiction. I’ll have to work on that – maybe as soon as I surf all my sites and catch up on the gossip next time I’m ashore.

So as I write to you tonight, the moon has taken another baby step in it’s way toward becoming full on Tuesday night. It has been rising a little before sunset giving us a great view of the moon rising while the sun is setting in the west. If I could just get the two of them (sun and moon) to squeeze together a little closer, it would make a wonderful photograph. No success on that one yet.

The seas are growing in size, but have an orderly motion traveling to us out of the northeast. Yesterday’s clear skies are now mostly filled in with heavy looking clouds that have thus far chosen to not rain upon our little boat. We’re very thankful for that small gift. Especially since we’ve made the decision to round Cape Hatteras and the outer banks of North Carolina tonight. Those waters can be extremely dicey in any weather, but when you throw in high winds, seas AND rain – it’s just downright miserable.

And nobody likes miserable. Remember? We like simple!

Well, it’s a little too bumpy for writing lengthy manuscripts tonight so I’ll end this with a few thoughts to my friends old and new.

First, a very special thank you to everyone who has offered their thoughts, prayers and even money to help me work through this little downturn of events lately. You all hold a very special place in my heart. I am slowly learning this word called humility.

Second – to the person who said I seem to have lost that pirate fight lately : I’d have to agree, but a few days at sea and Argghhh Matey – I’m BACK!.

And lastly, to everyone who takes time out of their busy (not so simple) day to write to us while we’re at sea : You’re the best!

Here’s wishing us all a simpler life filled with full moons, brilliant sunsets and as many good friends as I’ve found in my life to surround you and share your good fortune.

Still rolling along with my tattered pirate flag raised (again),

Cap’n B.

Friday, October 10, 2008 (written on Saturday, October 11, 2008)

Hello Family and Friends,

Well, the fall delivery season is upon us and my first run of this year is from New York City to Ft. Lauderdale, but I will only be aboard to see the vessel to St. Augustine. The owners will meet us in St. Augustine and Captain Burton – my long time friend and crew mate – will take the owners offshore the remainder of the way, offering them training on all things related to moving a vessel offshore – weather, sail plans, safety and general passagemaking. I, of course, have another boat to catch as always seems to be the case this time of year.

Tonight’s letter is being written to you from approximately 30 nautical miles off of Cape Lookout along the North Carolina coast. I had good intentions of writing to you last night but I had been extremely ill with a stomach virus that left me tremendously dehydrated. Being the trooper I am, I set off to sea anyway stocked with extra water and a determination to get better.

Therefore, instead of writing yesterday, I spent the day writhing in pain. You heard me correctly – writhing in pain.

It seems (and I knew) that if you let your body get too dehydrated, it loses the lubricant needed for your joints. Well folks, let me tell you what that feels like! I have never had more pain in more places than I did yesterday. Every muscle, every joint, and every bone felt like it was loaded with hot gravel. I could barely walk. And, there was no way to get comfortable and absolutely no way that my fingers would respond well enough for typing.

So – you get yesterday’s blog a day later and written from the NC coast.  My apologies, but yes I am feeling much better. Thank you.

First let me set the scene for you. Imagine the Manhattan skyline bathed in an early morning sun under a crisp, clear sky. The windows from every building reflecting the light like millions of mirrors as we raced down the East River towards the Hudson with Wall Street on our right, Brooklyn on our left and the Statue of Liberty right in front of us. We had just barreled through the whirlpool currents of Hells Gate and were spit out doing over 10 knots towards the historic Brooklyn Bridge. The Empire State Building towered off in the distance. It was beautiful!

We had left the docks before sunrise around 6 am with Captain Burton, myself and the owner aboard the boat. The plan was for the owner to join us on the first few hours of the trip. We dropped him off at Liberty Landing Marina on the New Jersey side of the Hudson where he was met by his son and then immediately turned the boat for sea – and again right past the Statue of Liberty.

If you’ve flown over the Statue of Liberty – or seen it by tour boat – let me argue this point. There are few things more spectacular than sailing past Lady Liberty in a small boat on your way to or from the sea. Her meaning – then and now – is still a very moving experience for me. Her light has shone brightly and welcomed sailors from the sea for nearly two centuries. I only wish you all could have been there with us to share in the experience. Maybe next time.

The rest of the day was equally as perfect. Our seas were smooth, though we were forced to motor since the wind was much too light for sailing. We exited the Hudson River at Sandy Hook, New Jersey, turned right and motored down the coast. The skies remained clear so when the nearly full moon made his appearance early in the evening, the light gave us several miles of visibility.

Of course, we probably could have navigated by the lights of Atlantic City alone. But then, that would be cheating.

So – that was our first day. I’ll keep writing as we move south. Weather is moving in so it should get a bit exciting over the next few days.

Wishing you calm seas and the continued freedom that Lady Liberty stands for. Our shores welcomed your ancestors years ago. Remember that welcome and share it with someone you meet today.

No more aches or pains, and a compass pointed southward,

Cap’n Blaine