Boat Trip Epilogue

I ended my last post from the boat trip, "the only question is whether the boat has any propellors or pods."

Unfortunately, the answer to that question was no. In the morning, two divers showed up and after about 20 seconds underwater, came up to give me the bad news. There were no pods. No props. The boat was completely immobile.

I spent most of the next few days on the phone with the insurance company, boat mechanics, a boatyard, etc and handled other logistics. Sababa was towed to a working boatyard and hauled out where she will sit until we can get new pods and props and get her going. I was told to expect around a month. I had to cancel some boat outings that I had planned back home.

We rented a car and drove 3.5 hours to Charleston where we met up with Ann and Benny, and Tony flew to Denver where he had a business meeting. Ann rented a couple of rooms at the Marriott Courtyard in the Historic district, and we spent a week doing the typical Charleston tourist things - a land-based vacation. Saturday night, we flew back to Baltimore, and I continue to work on logistics to get the boat fixed and the repairs paid for. I'm impatient by nature, so it will seem like a long time until Sababa is back. If things go really badly and it takes several months, I think I'll leave the boat and even take her further South for the Winter to avoid winterizing. If she's ready sooner, then I'll either hire a captain to bring her back to Baltimore, or I'll go get her myself.

Summer 2019 Boat Trip! Day 3

Day 3 was an experience that really put my love of boating and this lifestyle to the test. It's now 6:30 a.m. on Day 4, and I'm writing this because I did not have an opportunity, nor the cheyshek (it's Yiddish - means desire) to blog yesterday. It was really tough.

So, the day started out pretty well. Woke up around 5:30 in Ocracoke, and I decided to let my crew sleep. Had breakfast and sat around restlessly. By 7:00, I was ready to go, and the marina people were around, so they cut me loose, and a wobbly, tired Tony hobbled out of his cabin to collect the lines and fenders. The channel is narrow, and there was a lot of wind and current, so I was glad to have a high speed auto ferry in front of me to guide me out to the Sound.

We ran for about 90 minutes. It was calmer than the day before, but the wind was still strong and on our nose, and the ride was a big bumpy. Nothing crazy though. We go to Beaufort after a nice 40 minute canal ride.

So far so good.

Along the way, we saw several shipwrecks. I couldn't help but think of this as the worst case scenario. Little did I know these images would haunt me later in the day.

No, we did not sink yesterday, but hang on, and I'll get to it.

We had a decision to make in Beaufort - go out in the ocean for a 63 mile direct run, or hit the ICW for a slightly longer route, with hazards such as shoaling, logs, bad channel markings as well as bridges that open once an hour, slow boats and stupid boaters. We decided that our ocean run was pretty sweet the day before, and the forecast app I was using indicated that if we hugged the shoreline, the waves would only be 3 feet with a 5 second period. That seemed manageable on Sababa. So, we took the fork in the river to the left and headed out to sea.

Right away, I could tell that it was rougher than I thought it would be, and pretty uncomfortable. Still, we drove around a large reef and back towards shore. I pulled parallel to the shore about 1/3 of a mile out and tried to run the boat South. It did not take long (like 1 minute) for me to realize that this was a huge mistake. I couldn't run more than 8 knots, and we were getting thrown around pretty badly. I would say probably 5-6 foot waves, maybe a little more. We turned around with our tail between our legs and made for the ICW. Who knows what would have happened had we kept going. We might have been better off, but I can tell you that we would have arrived pretty ragged, and my crew would have probably mutinied.

I was apprehensive as I followed the magenta line of the ICW on my chart. On past trips, I had always carefully plotted my routes. I noted areas where we could fuel, potential emergency spots, and basically spent hours familiarizing myself with the navigation and charting every step of the way. Now I was heading towards what I assume was the ICW, despite several forks in the road. I had purchased an ICW guide, which I studied for the legs we planned on taking in the canal, but this was not one of them. My bad. In hindsight, my contingency plan should have been covered more thoroughly. Next time I plan a trip with a backup plan, I'll study the backup plan as carefully as the main one.

As we continued on the ICW, I started feeling a lot better. While the channel was narrow, we were able to run at full cruising speed, and although we had to slow down for other boats quite a bit, it was not as bad as I thought it would be. We even got very lucky with our first swing bridge. It opens once an hour, and we approached it just as it was opening. We could not believe our good fortune. Probably should have saved some of that mojo for later...

We approached the swing bridge just as it was about to open

So, this is where our luck really  ran out. I was approaching a complicated intersection of channels, at New River Inlet, which goes out to sea. Our path on the ICW was perpendicular to the path that led out to the inlet. In the middle of our  channel, there was a  red marker. Instead of moving to the left of it, I assumed it belonged to the crossing channel (stupid mistake in hindsight), and I took it on  my port bow (went to the right of it). My depth sounder read 3 feet, which is too shallow for Sababa, and I cut the throttle. We gently hit bottom, and were unable to move. I tried using the bow thruster to twist ourselves off, but to no avail. We were stuck on a sand bar. A very strong wind was coming from the sea and pushing us harder onto the sand bar, and the tide was going out. It was around 1:30, and low tide was at 5pm, so I had visions of the sunken boats we had passed earlier in the day. We were already about 9 inches out of the water, and in some places you get 2-3 feet of tide, which would have left us in a very awkward position. This was actually our second grounding of the day. We got out of the first one pretty easily, but not before sucking up sand in the generator intake, which resulted in the gen set shutting down, leaving us with  no air conditioning.

So, we're in the middle of nowhere, completely grounded, being pushed up against the sandbar, with the tide going out, no generator, 95 degrees without air conditioning (requires generator), and somewhat unhappy.

There is a reason that sailors are the standard bearers for cursing. Lots of not so nice words popped into my head during that time.

As we are sitting there, trying to figure out what to do  (Tony jumped in  the water with a paddle to try to dig us out, despite my protest - try moving a house with a toy tractor.), we  see  three  guys coming over towards us, presumably to help. As a security person, and generally someone who is paranoid, I couldn't help but feel that we were somewhat vulnerable here in gun country, with nowhere to go, and a boat that all but advertises that we probably have lots of money on board. As they approached, my fears were amplified, as one guy had tattoos over his entire body including his shaved head, and the other two looked like they were from some prison movie. They were carrying beers. I was glad we had Tony who is 6'5" and a half (he always points out the half because his brother Joe is 6'5" - personally I think if you're over 6', you should drop the half. It trivializes it for people my size who really need it.)

The three stooges come up to us with their North Carolina twang and say that it looks like we've found ourselves in a mess of trouble. They ask to come aboard. Tony, who is in the water brushes them off and says no. Then the one who seemed the least stupid of them starts giving us advice. Run the thruster this way or that. Just wait because the  tide will be high at 5:00  (actually 5:00 was low tide), and  he tells us he has a 70' and a 60' boat so he knows what he's doing. At this point, I think he's just trying to get his friends to laugh. Tattoo comes over and tries to get under my bow as I'm running the thruster. (the bearded one actually referred  to him as Tattoo) His buddy yelled at him to back off, and I cut the thruster and waited until he moved away. They told us they would be back and  headed  back towards their boats. Can't say I was  sorry to see them go.  Tony later told me that he was already thinking about where we stored our sharp knives and what we might do to defend Elana and Tamara who were on board and did not seem to impressed with our new friends.

Anyway, I had already called Boat US tow services, and they said they were going to be about an hour and a half, and that it would cost a minimum of $1,500 for them to just come pull us off the sand bar and send us on our way, assuming everything was in working order. I did not feel like I had any choice, and he took my credit card number over the phone. If we required a long tow, it would cost a lot more.  I have a BoatUS membership, and it includes up to $50 in towing, which I don't think gets you very far, especially considering the $1,500 charge for the guy to even show up.

I have to  say that although we were in a predicament to say the least, the girls later observed that they were surprised that I stayed composed and pretty much dealt with it in a logical fashion. Although I was stressed and unhappy, I did not feel any panic, which I guess is surprising. I can get scared to death in an elevator (claustrophobia) where there is no danger, but sitting on a sand bar with a gang of hooligans nearby and an outgoing tide, I seemed relatively calm.

Tony and I were on the phone with my mechanic, Justin, from my boat dealer, and he had some suggestions as to how to fix the generator. Since we were stuck there anyway, and Tony had not made much progress digging us out with the paddle, instead, we turned  our attention to the generator intake. We had sucked in sand, and Tony went under the boat with a long knife and started cleaning out the intake. He said he got a lot of sand out. The generator system is water cooled. Water comes in from the outside, runs through some hoses and into the generator. If the gen set detects that there is no good water flow, it shuts down. Since we had a blockage on the intake we were unable to use the system. However, once the system loses its prime, you have to get water in. That involved a pretty simple series of steps which we tried and which failed. Justin suggested that we need to clear the pump of sand, and we decided that this was a task for later, when we are docked. Anyway, we weren't going to be able to run the generator sitting on a sand bar because it would just suck up sand. Note for the future if  I'm every stuck again, turn off the generator immediately.

After about 90 minutes from when I called, a tow boat showed up. Captain was named Tom, and he was extremely helpful and nice. His idea was  to tie up alongside us, facing away, and  to run his props  hard  to push the sand out from under us. Sounds crazy, but it was working. We could see sand being pushed out on the other side of the boat. After about 20 minutes, he said we  had dropped 9 inches.

It took about 45 minutes,  and then Tom got us loose and pulled us back into the deep water of the channel. The engines fired right up. Yay! But when I pushed the throttle, nothing. Nada. Zip. Oy.

So, I had no way to move the boat. I spoke with Tom over the radio, and he made some calls. There was no option but to tow us to a marina where we could figure out what to do the next day. Tom convinced me that the best place was Harbor Village marina in Hampstead. Both Tony and I thought he said it was an hour and a half away. Perhaps by chopper, but it took us just under 4 hours to get there, since we were going by tow boat.

The girls took it surprisingly well, considering that they were stuck  without air conditioning, with no idea how we were ever getting to Charleston, and the overall situation.

I think we got into the marina around 8:00, although everything is kind of a blur. It might have even been quite a bit later. It was getting dark, I remember that. I spoke with Ann, who was already in Charleston with Benny, and we started going over options. There are basically three scenarios. First is that a diver goes under the boat today and discovers that everything is fixable, and somehow miraculously gets everything working, and we're golden. We head to Charleston today on the boat. Second scenario is that the props can be tuned, and that would take 2 days. In that case, Tony will rent a car and drive the girls to Charleston, where Ann will get hotel rooms, since she had planned on being on the boat tonight. I would stay behind and when the boat is fixed, hire a local crew person to come with me to Charleston and pay for them to go back home.

The third scenario is that the diver will discover that the props and/or pods are just gone. Worst case scenario. So, in that case, the boat could be in North Carolina at a repair facility for a month. I guess we would all drive to Charleston and have our planned vacation at some hotel there and then fly home. I'll deal with bringing  the boat back later, perhaps will hire my friend Captain Bob to bring her back.

Our problems were not over yet. The electricity from the dock cut out, and so we  did not have air conditioning. It was so hot on the boat. We opened up windows, but there were all kinds of huge bugs flying around. We were miserable. Without a generator working, and without shore power, we not only had no AC, but I wanted to conserve power and was reluctant to let the girls use the microwave. However, given the circumstances, I turned on the inverter to run AC off the house batteries and let the girls heat up their dinners. We've been having  power problems all trip. We hook up to power, and it works for 20 minutes, and then it cuts out.

Everybody had some food after we arrived, except me. I did not seem to  have an appetite, and was feeling  overwhelmed and a little depressed. So, we decided to get to work on the generator. Tony got on his hands and knees upside  down in the engine room and managed to remove the pump that feeds water to the generator. I took the dock hose and forced high pressure water through both ends. A bunch of sand came out, which gave us hope. We primed the water system. The generator fired up, and it worked. We had air conditioning. At this point, it was past 11 pm. I had been up a long time and was completely wiped out. But, I did not want to sleep with the generator on. Even though diesel engines don't produce much carbon monoxide, and although I have CO detectors in every cabin, I'm still paranoid about it. I figured we would run the AC until all the rooms were cold, and then go to sleep and hopefully fall asleep and wake up sweaty in the morning. However, when I was ready to turn off the generator after midnight, I tried the regular 220 power, and miraculously, it was working. I turned off the generator and also turned off the battery chargers, hot water heater and everything else on the 220 circuit except the air conditioning, hoping that the reduced load would keep the power from going out.

I'm up now on Day 4 (woke up at 5:45), and the power is till on, and the air is running, and I even turned on the battery charger and all is still good. I've been in touch with the dock master. He'll be here at 9:30, and we can get our much needed pump out. Also, a local diver has canceled his morning appointments and is headed  here and will be here by 9:00 a.m. Then  we'll find out which scenario we're dealing with, or perhaps another. My current theory is that we got a lot of sand baked into the props, and perhaps the diver can clear it out, and we can be off and running to Charleston. Either that, or I won't have a boat for the rest of the summer. I guess I'll know soon.

Here we are, docked at Hampstead for an unscheduled stop. At the moment, electricity is working, generator is working, air conditioning is working, and the only question is whether the boat has any propellors or pods.

Summer 2019 Boat Trip! Day 2

Norfolk to Ocracoke
155 Nautical Miles
Departure from Norfolk 8:00 a.m.
Arrived in Ocracoke 4:45 p.m.
Weather:  Hot, windy, choppy seas in the afternoon

When boating, one must be flexible. I'm not talking about the ability to stretch your limbs further than others, although that probably helps - I'm talking about not being married to your plans. Because sometimes, things don't turn out the way you expected, and when you're boating, improvising is the norm. We were tested today.

The morning started out glorious. My companions, the two munchkins and their "uncle" Tony stayed out late at the concert at Waterside near our boat while yours truly wrote his blog and fell asleep before 11:00. Apparently they were out late partying because when I woke up at 5:00, they were all asleep. I went for a walk, filled up the water tanks, took out the garbage and recycling, cleaned up the boat, ate breakfast, and basically ran out of things to do. So, around 7:45, after going stir crazy, I woke up Tony and decided we would leave early, despite having promised everyone we could leave at 9:00 today.

Sababa, early morning right before departure

We set out, thinking we were leaving Norfolk behind, down the peaceful river, heading down mile 0 of the Intercoastal Waterway, otherwise known as the ICW. The world was at peace. I was so happy. It seemed like everything was under control. But it was not.

Leaving Norfolk and heading down the ICW

Tony was becoming useful. He learned how to coil lines (although sometimes they ended up with knots in them), and is good at putting away the fenders and getting the boat ready for our sail.

We saw amazing naval sites. Boats under repair, and even a few aircraft carriers.

The day seemed almost too perfect.

I had prepared. Charting out our course for each day, reserving slips at marinas, and practically memorizing the orders of the bridges that we would have to wait for. Bridge #5, which is less than 3 miles from downtown Norfolk was the first one. A railroad bridge that goes up and down, and which the guidebook said is almost always up.

As we approached Bridge #5, I noticed to my chagrin that it was down, and in fact there was a boat on the other side waiting to go North. I tried to raise the bridge tender on the radio, but got no answer. After about 10 minutes, a police boat approached me. I  leaned over the rail, and he yelled up at me. The content of his yell hit me pretty hard. One of those "uh oh" moments. He said that the bridge was down and broken and would be closed until Monday. (Today is Saturday, and I'm supposed to be in Charleston on Monday.) What?!?!?!

Bridge #5 was down, not up as I had hoped

I called up my trusty friend Captain Bob. Bob has delivered Sababa a couple of times and knows his way around the ICW better than anyone I know. He checked around and said there was no information about this bridge closure. Nonetheless, I was finally able to get the bridge on the radio, and it was confirmed that this bridge was closed until Monday, in effect shutting down the ICW for two days. No traffic was going to pass in either direction. Holy crap.

So, what to do. My first thought was that I was in big trouble. Not going to get to Charleston as planned. Maybe spend a couple of days in Norfolk? I didn't like the idea. Captain Bob suggested going around and taking the ocean route. I had considered that in my planning but decided that I did not like the possibility of rough seas, and the inlet I needed to take was unfamiliar to me and has a reputation of being treacherous. 

Bob walked me through what I needed to do, and I decided that it beat spending the next two days doing nothing in Norfolk. So, we headed out to sea. Backtracking towards Norfolk, we passed our marina from last night at 9:00 a.m., about an hour after we left, and at the original time I had promised everyone we would leave. At least I kept my end of the deal.

As we headed towards the inlet at Virginia Beach, I noticed that my depth sounder was not working. This would have been disastrous had we taken the ICW as planned. In the ocean, depth was not an issue, but still, you don't want to be on a boat trip without an accurate depth reading at all times. After some time on the phone with my mechanic and some fancy rebooting of my electronics, I was back in shape.

The depth sounder was not working this morning

With my depth perception back, I pointed us out to sea. We passed Cape Henry, and turned towards the open waters, spotting many dolphins. Too bad the girls were still asleep.

Cape Henry Lighthouse

Heading out to see, you can't quite see Europe

The ocean was relatively calm, and we took in the sight of Virginia Beach and all the waterfront hotels from the water. After a while, we saw nothing but coastline to our right and open ocean to our left. It's a surreal calm you feel when there is nothing but open water in front of you. I couldn't help but feel how much better off we were here than navigating the treacherous ICW with all it's shallow areas, tight curves, shoaling, slow boats who don't know how to drive, and numerous other disadvantages to the ICW. Although I wanted to give Tony and the girls the ICW canal experience, this sure was easier. Auto pilot engaged, radar on, and now kick back and relax. Well, at least for a little while.

As we approached Oregon Inlet, I started to feel nervous. I had read about the dangers of this inlet, and furthermore, I noticed that the markers in the channel and my chart did not match up. I assumed I should follow the markers rather than the chart, but it was an uneasy feeling to see myself heading towards 2 feet of water as marked on my chart. I raised a working dredge boat on channel 13 and asked, and he was very friendly and reassured me to take the markers and follow them in.

Aside from some pretty sharp turns and 2-3 feet of water all around the channel, there was a heavy current and over 20 knot winds, and the 3 miles of tight channel I had to navigate really frayed my nerves, something that was noticed by my crew and pointed out to me by my daughters. Well, I get very tense in these situations because the consequences of screwing up are pretty severe, and any way, I'm a worry wart.

We got through the channel and into Pamlico Sound. Oh man was it getting rough out. The waves  were 3-4 feet, the wind had to be over 20 knots, all pounding us from the front. All 3  of my crew  got pretty nauseous, and  I felt terrible about that, but there really was nowhere to stop. I had decided that rather than hit our original destination of Manteo, where we had picked out a great restaurant that we had been to on our Outer Banks trip last summer, Nags Head Pizza, instead we would continue South to Ocracoke, which would shave a couple of hours out of our day tomorrow and would avoid us having to go the wrong way for an hour today and then backtrack tomorrow.

As the boat was taking a beating, all our stuff was flying around. I noticed that one of the paddle boards that I had attached to our dinghy was breaking loose. I didn't want to lose the paddle board, and furthermore, if it fell out, the other one would no longer be tied down tightly, and we'd lose it too. Every time we took a big bump, I looked down, and it was further out. I stopped the boat and went to the platform to try to fix the paddle board. However, I hadn't realized how rough the water was, and we took a sharp wave that tilted the boat badly. I was holding on, but still it was scary to be standing on the swim platform in the back of the boat and get tilted like that so I hopped right back into the boat and closed the small door to the swim platform.

I was at a loss at this point. So, I had Elana drive the boat at about 6 knots straight into the waves. This way, we stayed in a stable position and didn't rock back and forth. I then climbed into the crew quarter and retrieved my boat hook. I was able to latch onto the coil connected to the paddleboard, and then I tied it to the boat. I knew that would hold for the next hour while we made our way through this junk to Ocracoke.

The total time in the rough stuff was about two hours, but it seemed a lot longer. I played with different speeds to try to relieve some of my crew's discomfort with little success. Finally I decided that going fast wasn't really worse than going slower, and it would end this more quickly, so I kept us at around 20 knots until we got to safety.

Navigating Ocracoke was a bit scary. It was very windy, and the current wanted to push me out of the channel. However, Sababa is great and handled beautifully, and we were never in any real danger. My biggest concern was that even in the harbor at Ocracoke, it was blowing over 20 knots, and I had to dock at a fixed pier to buy fuel. We had used up the same amount as on day 1.

The entrance to the harbor at Ocracoke. Was a lot rougher than it looks

The fuel dock at our marina was about 35 feet long. Sababa is 59 feet 10 inches long. Behind  and in  front of my boat, there were other boats and piers sticking out. A 20-25  knot wind was pushing me towards the dock, and the entire town seemed to be standing around watching my attempt to safely land my boat there. It was quite hairy, but I used every bit of my driving instruments and thruster to somehow manage a soft landing. Not since SpaceX landed a rocket on a boat have I been that excited about a safe landing. I don't think I would have tried this a couple of years ago.

Next, we had to get into a fixed pier slip with very short finger piers and the same wind I just mentioned. It was pretty scary, but with my awesome crew who were becoming more adept by the minute, we pulled it off. One of the dockhands joined us on the fuel doc, and we invaluable in getting us situated. All was good in the world. Well, not really. The power didn't work. I had several guys from the marina trying to help. They even worked on the main junction box and hooked me up to 4 different pedestals, but nothing. I was hungry and tired and frustrated, and eventually just gave up.

We went to dinner and had a really awesome meal and a good time, but I left early to go back to the boat and try to fix the electric. After removing an access panel in the crew quarter and crawling into a space that was just slightly smaller than me, I found some breakers, but they were not tripped. I reset them anyway. I then reset every possible breaker on the boat in the engine room and in the main cabin. Somehow this worked. So, now we have power, and we are safe and sound, docked in Ocracoke.

Tomorrow, we are traveling a route that I did not plan out in advance because I had no idea we would be in Ocracoke instead of Manteo. I just spent some time with my charting software, and we're all good. We'll run in Pamlico again for about 40 minutes. Hoping it's calmer than today, but probably won't be. Then we have a nice peaceful 40 minute canal ride. After that, back out to the ocean for around 4 hours. If it's really rough, we'll turn around and take the ICW for about 6 hours. I guess we'll play it by ear and will be flexible, because that's the boating life.

Summer 2019 Boat Trip!!! Day 1

Baltimore to Norfolk
162 Nautical Miles
Departure from Baltimore:  5:15 a.m.
Arrived in Norfolk 1:30 p.m.
Weather:  Gorgeous day, flat seas, hot

Our annual family boat trip!!! I've waited an entire year for this, and the last few weeks were busier at work than I've been in a long time, so it's even more exciting than usual to get on the boat and set sail. This year, we've decided to go to Charleston, SC, where we've never been. Ann was not crazy about the two open water legs of the trip where it can get rough, and Benny did not want to miss too many days of his summer internship at APL, so the plan is that I'm heading down on the boat with Elana and Tamara and "uncle" Tony from New Jersey, and Ann and Benny will fly down to meet us in Charleston.

Yesterday, Elana and I spent most of the day getting the boat ready. We split the bed in the front cabin, turning the queen bed there into two single beds for the girls to use - first time we've done that. We put bedding on all the beds, and loaded up enough food for our trip, stocked up on such essential items as marine toilet paper and bought a new flag, as the old one was in tatters. Tony arrived at 7:30 pm by train from New Jersey, and we picked him up and brought him to the boat.

Ann brought Tamara down to the marina and hung out with us on the boat until around 10 pm. After she went home, I taught Tony some knots and worked on them with him and the girls so I would have a well trained crew.

We bid Ann farewell, and got ready for bed - although I knew I would have trouble sleeping in anticipation of our trip this morning.

The night before our departure - an excited captain and crew

I woke up around 4:20 a.m. and could not sleep any more. I am normally an early riser, but not this early. I was so wired and eager to get moving that I did not stay in bed long and by 5:15, I had gotten us off the dock and on our way. A groggy Tony came upstairs to the fly bridge to join me, and I had him drive while I put away the lines and fenders. Tony went back to bed, and I drove alone in the early morning calm. There really is nothing better as far as I'm concerned than boating at dusk with nobody else out there, just you and the water on a calm gorgeous morning. I was in heaven.

Pulling out of the slip just after 5:15 a.m. in Baltimore

Passing under the Key bridge as the sun rises

Everything was going smoothly, and when I got to open waters, I decided to start using the radar and encountered my first glitch of the trip. Radar did not work.

I was frustrated and tried a few different things, but to no avail. Today, I knew I wouldn't need it, but if it ever got foggy on our trip, I would not want to be without radar. After several failed attempts, I had one more idea. I ran down below and rebooted the chart plotter breaker. When it came back up, I turned on the radar and voilà, I had radar! I wish all problems could be solved this easily.

I was still the only one awake at 6:40 a.m. when I arrived at the Bay bridge. Very few boats out meant I could stay on auto pilot and just enjoy what was turning out to be a glorious day.

 When I'm on a multi-day boat trip, I am fanatical about checking the weather. I use several different apps which utilize different weather data sources, and I check and double check. Today, day 1 of our trip, as I cruised under the Bay bridge and into the more open and deeper portions of the Southern Chesapeake Bay, I checked my radar app one more time, and could not have seen a more perfect image.

When Elana woke up, she joined me up top, and I had her take over a few times so I could go down to the bathroom or get food. Glad I taught her how to drive this boat! Tamara showed up around 11:00 a.m., just in time for us to see some dolphins!

As we pulled into Norfolk, the girls taught Tony how to attach the docking lines, and we pulled into Tidewater marina to fill up on fuel.

Although it was a gorgeous ride on an idyllic day, the one thing that was nagging me all day long was our fuel consumption and whether we could make it to Norfolk in one shot without refueling. After consulting with several other Prestige 560 owners, I was convinced that we could do it. I started with two full tanks, totally 581 gallons of diesel. My calculations were that we would arrive with 111, and amazingly when we were ready to refuel at Tidewater, that was almost exactly our fuel level. After fueling, we drive across the river to Waterside, and tied up on the bulkhead. I prefer floating docks, but with my well-trained crew, we had no trouble adjusting lines and fenders for 3 feet of tide and fixed pilings.

As we got into Norfolk early, thanks to our 5:15 a.m. departure, we had time to visit the Nautica museum and the US Wisconsin battleship.

Inside we discovered that there are some height distances among us.

Especially inside the battleship. One of the few times that I had an advantage for being short. Poor Tony kept hitting his head.

Oh wait, now I'm taller!

We were able to raise and the lower the battleship's anchor (not really).

After a nice dinner in town, and of course, bubble tea, we went back to the boat. There is a band playing right in front of our slip - not the ideal spot. Tony and Tamara went to listen to the music close up, as it's not loud enough already, and Elana and I are on the boat on our computers. I think she's watching Netflix, and I'm writing this blog.

Tomorrow is our canal day. We'll go through a lock and wait for some bridges to open, and otherwise it should be a relaxing peaceful run through the Intercostal Waterway as we head to the outer banks of North Carolina. Good nigh!