Gearing up to scrape barnacles off Cielo's propeller

Kevin looks pretty silly....

but not as silly as me! Clearly I was only excited for this adventure until I experienced the freezing cold water in Great Salt Pond at Block Island.

Settling In

We're still in Block Island, and we're starting to get used to our new lifestyle. This morning we dinghied over to New Harbor with our bikes and backpacks, and I sat here at Aldo's** with the laptop while Lizz went for a run. We've been waiting for good weather to head on to somewhere else, which it looks like we'll get tomorrow when we'll head to Shelter Island in 15-20 knot winds. I feel like we're barely making a dent in the still extensive list of boat projects, and I'm not really bothered. I'm more relaxed than I can remember being, and I think that's the most important thing.

All this is only mildly tarnished by a gland swollen to the size of a golf ball, a casualty of diving underwater to assess the damage we did when we grounded at the Thimble Islands. I need a prescription of antibiotics, which has to be flown in from mainland Rhode Island at a whopping cost of $4.

**Aldo's is a little Italian bakery in Old Harbor. They come out into the anchorage every morning and evening and sell pastries and pies from their launch. We wake every morning to their cries of "Andiamo!".

You Sexy Thing...

Not me...or even Kevin...but our shiny brand new Dahon folding bicycles...in the two days that we've bicycled them around Block Island, we've been stopped by pedestrians, whistled at from cars (not kidding!) and commented on by small children ("daddy, those bikes are awesome"). All of these accolades come at a time when both Kevin and I have drastically reduced the amount of time we spend daily on grooming--otherwise known as "getting ready" or "primping". This means that I haven't worn make-up in over a week and Kevin hasn't shaved in almost as long. I supposed it's part of adapting to a world where hot water is a luxury and there just aren't enough mirrors to go around. On the one hand, it's incredibly freeing--I have toured around Block Island in workout clothes, sans fancy sunglasses, sans make-up, sans brushed hair and have felt quite content--quite an accomplishment for anyone who knows my vain self. On the other hand, I am almost jealous of the longing glances, catcalls and compliments our bikes have received since we arrived at Block...I guess it's all a matter of shifting vanity from what you look like to how you live...

On the rocks

No...not my most favorite way to drink a margarita...but us, well, Cielo rather just two hours ago as we attempted to set an anchor at the Thimble Islands. I will leave it to Kevin to write about the MacGuyver-like ideas he came up with that enabled us to avoid spending $400 to get Cielo rescued by Tow Boat (like a very, very expensive AAA for those of you who don't sail :) -- instead, I'll try to convey what it felt like while we were stuck and wondering whether the sound of Cielo's keel slamming against the rocks below meant that an error in judgement was going to cost us our entire trip. Fortunately, once we got the boat off (and retrieved our anchor, which we'd left behind attached to a fender...but again, I'll leave that explanation to Kevin) we were able to survey the damage and it appears we've merely cost ourselves some cosmetic repairs. So, though our egos are bruised and our nerves are a little shot, Cielo appears to be just fine. Since this whole experience just ended and I still have to shower to rinse off the mud that was caked to the bottom of the anchor and now is now caked all over my arms and legs, I haven't really had the chance to reflect on the deeper meaning of what's just happened and what we've learned from this experience...right now, I just feel incredibly thankful that we didn't lose steerage or something equally devastating...and acutely aware that even the routine task of setting an anchor in a protected cove in full day light must always be approached with great care and a healthy respect for what could go wrong.

Lizz


Departure day started slow and foggy, and ended with a bang. Literally. We arrived at the Thimble Islands - Connecticut's own little slice of craggy Maine - and picked our way through the islands and islets looking for a clear spot to anchor. Not realizing I had misread the chart, we circled behind an island, took a loop to make sure we had enough depth to swing, and dropped the anchor. The wind and current backed us down, the anchor started to set, then BANG! We had clearly drifted back into a large rock. Having misread the chart, I hadn't expected to hit a rock. Worst case maybe we bump soft bottom. Nevertheless, there was no denying that was a rock we had just hit. I had a sneaking suspicion the rock was right where it was supposed to be, and that we were the ones in the wrong place. I powered us forward slowly, right back the way we came and towards the anchor thinking, since we had just completed a loop of the area and it appeared clear, that I must have just let us back down too far. As we are just about over where we dropped the anchor, BANG again. Well, more of a bump this time, the keel only, and not the sickening crunch and jarring of the rudder we had gotten the first time. Regardless, now I'm really confused, the adrenaline is pumping, the brain is racing, and I'm more than a little scared. This is not a good way to end our first day. I think I tried to back us off slowly, we bumped again. Now it seems as though there is rock all around us, I'm unable to turn us in any direction, and the anchor is now set and behind us. Letting out chain doesn't seem to allow us to power off, but it does allow the bow to drift down into/onto god knows what. At this point we just stopped to try to assess the situation. I don goggles and trunks and go over the side. I promptly find myself standing in less than chest deep water. NOT good. Cielo's draft is 4'8", and I'm standing in 4' of water. I swim around to the other side and find deep water. The current has us pinned against a rock ledge. There's no way to get off the ledge and get back to the anchor even if we had the slightest desire to head back into the rock mine field from whence we came. Passing power boats are creating wake that is causing us to thump ominously on and against the rock ledge. Unsure of what damage we've already done, fearful of what damage will be done if we don't get out of there, and temporarily at a loss for what to do, we decide to call for a tow. In the midst of calling for a tow I finally collect my wits, run forward with a fender in hand, tie it to the end of the anchor chain, and jettison all 275' of chain and anchor. Finally realizing what was going on underneath us, we power into the current and off the ledge, carefully motor out and pick up an empty mooring. I dove in to assess what damage had been done. It appears that we scraped off some bottom paint and have some gouges on the bottom of the rudder - cosmetic damage only, the equivalent of bruised bottom to go with our bruised egos. I plan to do another check when we get to the clear water of Block Island. After a short breather we set off in the dinghy to retrieve our abandoned anchor and chain - all 400 lbs of it! Thinking back on the experience, it certainly wasn't fun but we did well. We both remained remarkably calm and level-headed. There are things we'd change and do differently, but all in all we came through OK.

Kevin

Departure Day!!

The day has finally arrived! We left the marina at about 9:30 Saturday, August 25th, and headed out with the tide. First stop: the Thimble Islands.


Photo credits go to our new friends Mike and Dina aboard Migrations. They have shown us more kindness than we can even begin to figure out how to repay. Thanks guys, we'll see you out there soon!

The price of freedom

As of this past Friday, Kevin and I became homeless in the traditional sense as our lease has ended and we're now living full-time on Cielo docked at the marina in Stamford. We have spent much of this week figuring out how stuff that fit nicely into an 1,100 square foot apartment gets stored on a 40 foot boat. Amazingly enough, so far we've pretty much found a place for everything (though I've had to talk Kevin out bringing several items of clothing, including a suit...I mean, who brings a suit to sail around the world...I know, I know...Kevin does). Next week we'll be getting Cielo cleaned up and attending to a few last minute projects and then making our way either down to NYC or potentially up to Block Island for a few days. Either way, we should definitely be in New York by the end of August, and will probably spend a week or two visiting friends and and making every attempt to avoid the $15 cocktail, as the reality of no full-time income is beginning to set in. I feel a bit like I did back in college (let's see....if I buy six rolls of toilet paper, I can save $1.75) when price was an important factor in most decisions made. But as I sit here in the cockpit in the middle of the day on a Thursday watching the ducks paddle by Cielo's stern, I'm also starting to experience that other feeling that was so prevelant in college--that gidiness that comes when you have total freedom and endless possibility before you. And I'll trade that feeling for the need to price out toilet paper any day.

Slowly Getting There @ 1,000 mph

This is the last week at work for both of us, next to last week with a home on land, and we've got 30 days and counting!! We've got a million things left to do and we're both trying not to freak out. It feels like we're running around like crazy but only slowly working through the to-do list. We are getting there though. We'll get this website updated with a location map and more detail as soon as we get a chance - it will probably be a couple weeks.

In the meantime, it looks like we'll see many of you this weekend at the Christening/Engagement party. Looking forward to it!