But we got a surprise. Snow in Shreveport, and schools were closed.
So Principessa and Matthew rode down with me. They went to a hotel, and I fixed the door to the head, the vent on the holding tank, and a couple of other things.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Vendredi Gras
We planned for me to go to Mandeville to ready the boat on Friday, then sail it to New Orleans on Saturday. Principessa and Matthew were to meet me in New Orleans on Saturday.
But we got a surprise. Snow in Shreveport, and schools were closed.
So Principessa and Matthew rode down with me. They went to a hotel, and I fixed the door to the head, the vent on the holding tank, and a couple of other things.
But we got a surprise. Snow in Shreveport, and schools were closed.
So Principessa and Matthew rode down with me. They went to a hotel, and I fixed the door to the head, the vent on the holding tank, and a couple of other things.
Samedi Gras
Saturday morning was brisk and beautiful. Slipped the moorings at about 9 am, then sailed solo from Bayou Castine in Mandeville to Southshore Harbor Marina in New Orleans, about 20 miles. First time I had sailed Bliss solo.
Winds were light, so motorsailing was the best option. Made about 4 kts, arriving about 2 pm. Principessa and Matthew drove across the Causeway and were waiting when I got there.
Secured the boat then tried to make our way to Orleans Avenue to meet Don & Angela and Steve & Regina and their kids. The roads were already blocked, and we were hungry. We went over to Oak Street and picked up barbecue at a place called Squeal.
Meandered around New Orleans until we found open roads to get us close to the parade. Met up with our friends just as Endymion had started to roll by, and Matthew got his first taste of “real” Mardi Gras.
Principessa shot some video of a float and her finger:
Went back to the boat for a good night’s rest.
Winds were light, so motorsailing was the best option. Made about 4 kts, arriving about 2 pm. Principessa and Matthew drove across the Causeway and were waiting when I got there.
Secured the boat then tried to make our way to Orleans Avenue to meet Don & Angela and Steve & Regina and their kids. The roads were already blocked, and we were hungry. We went over to Oak Street and picked up barbecue at a place called Squeal.
Meandered around New Orleans until we found open roads to get us close to the parade. Met up with our friends just as Endymion had started to roll by, and Matthew got his first taste of “real” Mardi Gras.
Principessa shot some video of a float and her finger:
Went back to the boat for a good night’s rest.
Dimanche Gras
Slept in. Awakened by sunshine gleaming through the companionway. Stuck my head out to see brown pelicans, seagulls, a view of the harbor and Lake Ponchartrain, and perfect weather. It’s gonna be a great day!
Went to mass at St. Maria Goretti in New Orleans East. The area is slow to rebuild from Katrina, but the Parish was lively and friendly. Despite what Republicans would have us believe, New Orleanians are survivors. The parishioners are energetic, friendly, and committed to their parish church .
All of this in the midst of boarded-up businesses and neglected public facilities. These folks have pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and without a lot of help from government. They enthusiastically rebuild despite the blight around them.
Slowly meandered Uptown. Tried to get to Magazine Street, but mostly sat in traffic. Arrghh! We finally parked in the Garden District and walked to Magazine. Saw Thoth on the way.
Principessa has been wanting to go to Sucre, a patisserie. Matthew and I brought her there for her Valentines day treat, French macaroons. The macaroons were okay, but Matthew’s Sour Cherry Champagne Sorbet was exquisite.
Magazine Street is a wonderful place. We could spend days just wandering around.
Watched Bacchus in the Garden District. The people around us were extremely nice. New Orleans was absolutely ebullient this Carnival season. Here's a video and a picture:
Went back to the harbor just in time for the weather to change. Winds were quite gusty, and we rocked and rolled all night long. Principessa said the wind in the boats’ rigging sounded like a hurricane, and her sleep was restless.
Went to mass at St. Maria Goretti in New Orleans East. The area is slow to rebuild from Katrina, but the Parish was lively and friendly. Despite what Republicans would have us believe, New Orleanians are survivors. The parishioners are energetic, friendly, and committed to their parish church .
All of this in the midst of boarded-up businesses and neglected public facilities. These folks have pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and without a lot of help from government. They enthusiastically rebuild despite the blight around them.
Slowly meandered Uptown. Tried to get to Magazine Street, but mostly sat in traffic. Arrghh! We finally parked in the Garden District and walked to Magazine. Saw Thoth on the way.
Principessa has been wanting to go to Sucre, a patisserie. Matthew and I brought her there for her Valentines day treat, French macaroons. The macaroons were okay, but Matthew’s Sour Cherry Champagne Sorbet was exquisite.
Magazine Street is a wonderful place. We could spend days just wandering around.
Watched Bacchus in the Garden District. The people around us were extremely nice. New Orleans was absolutely ebullient this Carnival season. Here's a video and a picture:
Went back to the harbor just in time for the weather to change. Winds were quite gusty, and we rocked and rolled all night long. Principessa said the wind in the boats’ rigging sounded like a hurricane, and her sleep was restless.
Lundi Gras
All good things must come to an end. Time to go back to Shreveport, but Bliss must be sailed to her home port.
Winds were out of the Northwest and gusting to 25 or 30 knots. I had never one-handed the boat in that sort of weather, but today was as good a day as any to see what it was like.
Suffice it to say that the trip was exhilarating. I close-hauled Bliss and pinched the wind. The clinometer showed 30 degrees of heal, sometimes more. Averaged between 5 and 6 knots. Lots of waves and whitecaps. Got splashed many times. Below is a picture of the New Orleans skyline about 14 miles off the stern.
All went well until time to take the sails down. That’s a story for “Lessons Learned the Hard Way.”
Brought Bliss back to her moorings. Principessa and Matthew awaited, albeit impatiently. Headed back to Shreveport.
What an experience!
Winds were out of the Northwest and gusting to 25 or 30 knots. I had never one-handed the boat in that sort of weather, but today was as good a day as any to see what it was like.
Suffice it to say that the trip was exhilarating. I close-hauled Bliss and pinched the wind. The clinometer showed 30 degrees of heal, sometimes more. Averaged between 5 and 6 knots. Lots of waves and whitecaps. Got splashed many times. Below is a picture of the New Orleans skyline about 14 miles off the stern.
All went well until time to take the sails down. That’s a story for “Lessons Learned the Hard Way.”
Brought Bliss back to her moorings. Principessa and Matthew awaited, albeit impatiently. Headed back to Shreveport.
What an experience!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Me and Otto Are Sailing to Mardi Gras
Above is a picture of Otto, perhaps the most valuable member of S/V Bliss's crew. He certainly complains less than the rest of the crew.
Otto and I will sail "solo" across Lake Ponchartrain from Mandeville, and Tish and Matthew will meet us on the south shore. Megan said she would stop by, but we don't know whether William's baseball schedule will allow a trip to carnival.
Seems like the weather will cooperate, so I reserved a slip at Southshore Harbor Marina, right next to the Lakefront Airport. The plan is to leave Bayou Castine with the chickens on Saturday morning. We should arrive in plenty of time to watch Endymion somewhere in Mid-City.
Then, we can watch the Sunday parades, including Bacchus. Then, we'll have to make a couple of tacks to sail upwind to Bayou Castine on Monday.
It ought to be FUN!
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Lesson No. 2 Learned the Hard Way
Lesson: When you use the winches, only wrap the line around it two or three times, then pull the end of the rope to tighten. Otherwise, your line will foul.
Price of the Lesson: A new main halyard, or about $90.00. It also cost William a trip up the mast. And it blew any chance I may have had for father of the year in 2009.
How I Learned It: After our rough start the first time out, we had a decent time sailing. Then we headed in.
I lowered and doused the Genoa uneventfully, then I went to the mast to lower the main. Unfortunately, the main halyard was fouled. After fighting it for about a half hour, sailing back and forth with Principessa at the helm, narrowly avoiding a collision with a 50 or so foot sportfisherman, I gave up. The halyard was not coming down.
So I did the only thing I knew to do. I took out the rigging knife and cut the halyard. The sail dropped into the lazyjacks, and we motored to the slip.
Now here's the problem. When you cut the halyard off and the sail drops, the end of the halyard likewise goes up about 25 feet above the deck.
How do we get the end of the halyard to pull it down? Well, we get a rock climbing harness, put it on our oldest son, and haul him up the mast using the jib halyard. Like this:
Price of the Lesson: A new main halyard, or about $90.00. It also cost William a trip up the mast. And it blew any chance I may have had for father of the year in 2009.
How I Learned It: After our rough start the first time out, we had a decent time sailing. Then we headed in.
I lowered and doused the Genoa uneventfully, then I went to the mast to lower the main. Unfortunately, the main halyard was fouled. After fighting it for about a half hour, sailing back and forth with Principessa at the helm, narrowly avoiding a collision with a 50 or so foot sportfisherman, I gave up. The halyard was not coming down.
So I did the only thing I knew to do. I took out the rigging knife and cut the halyard. The sail dropped into the lazyjacks, and we motored to the slip.
Now here's the problem. When you cut the halyard off and the sail drops, the end of the halyard likewise goes up about 25 feet above the deck.
How do we get the end of the halyard to pull it down? Well, we get a rock climbing harness, put it on our oldest son, and haul him up the mast using the jib halyard. Like this:
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Lesson No. 1 Learned the Hard Way
I have a lot of these. I am putting them on the blog at the risk of looking very, very dumb. Nevertheless, exposing my bonehead mistakes is about all I have to offer to the art of sailing at the moment.
Lesson 1: When you buy a new boat, have the seller explain in detail how to rig the boat. Take an inventory of everything on the boat. If you don't know what something is or how it works, ask.
Price for learning it: Aggravation and wounded ego.
How I learned it: I was so confident that Bliss was a great deal that we bought her without ever having sailed her. The seller offered to take me for a sail and show me how everything works. I called him when I was ready to sail the boat, but I couldn't get him on the phone. So we struck out on our own on the Mississippi Sound.
The water was fairly rough, and winds were 10-15 knots. I motored out past the last buoys, pointed the boat into the wind, and told Principessa to hold her on that heading.
I did not even have the headsail out of the bag, and I was trying to hank on the headsail in a heavy chop. Tish and Matthew were excited because a pod of dolphins was swimming around us.
When I looked up the first time, I was looking out to sea. Then, I was looking at the harbor. Then out to see. Then looking at the harbor. Yup, we were going around in circles, not holding the heading. Every time the bow passed through the wind, I was getting clobbered by a fluttering sail. And I was getting tossed about rather nicely on the bow.
To those in the harbor, we must have looked like complete idiots. I know I felt like one.
When I finally hauled the foresail up, I had not properly routed the jib sheet through the shrouds. The good news is that we were at least sailing on the foresail by that time. I was able to re-route the downwind sheet, tack, then re-route the other.
Raising the main was even more difficult. The slugs upon which the mainsail slides up the mast would not slide for love nor money. I had not figured out how to use the autopilot, so Principessa was weaving here, there and yonder. I was again getting clobbered by a fluttering sail each time we changed course.
By this time, all that I learned from my Dale Carnegie course was out the window. I was not being very nice to Principessa.
One of the old salts at the harbor later told me to get some silicone dry lube and spray the slugs before I leave. That would have helped.
Now, I hank on the foresail, attach the halyard, thread the jib sheets, and route the halyard back to the cockpit (I don't even think my previous owner knew that he could do this) before we cast off.
The upside: Some of the other sailors on our pier took pity on us. They offered us some pointers and encouragement.
Lesson 1: When you buy a new boat, have the seller explain in detail how to rig the boat. Take an inventory of everything on the boat. If you don't know what something is or how it works, ask.
Price for learning it: Aggravation and wounded ego.
How I learned it: I was so confident that Bliss was a great deal that we bought her without ever having sailed her. The seller offered to take me for a sail and show me how everything works. I called him when I was ready to sail the boat, but I couldn't get him on the phone. So we struck out on our own on the Mississippi Sound.
The water was fairly rough, and winds were 10-15 knots. I motored out past the last buoys, pointed the boat into the wind, and told Principessa to hold her on that heading.
I did not even have the headsail out of the bag, and I was trying to hank on the headsail in a heavy chop. Tish and Matthew were excited because a pod of dolphins was swimming around us.
When I looked up the first time, I was looking out to sea. Then, I was looking at the harbor. Then out to see. Then looking at the harbor. Yup, we were going around in circles, not holding the heading. Every time the bow passed through the wind, I was getting clobbered by a fluttering sail. And I was getting tossed about rather nicely on the bow.
To those in the harbor, we must have looked like complete idiots. I know I felt like one.
When I finally hauled the foresail up, I had not properly routed the jib sheet through the shrouds. The good news is that we were at least sailing on the foresail by that time. I was able to re-route the downwind sheet, tack, then re-route the other.
Raising the main was even more difficult. The slugs upon which the mainsail slides up the mast would not slide for love nor money. I had not figured out how to use the autopilot, so Principessa was weaving here, there and yonder. I was again getting clobbered by a fluttering sail each time we changed course.
By this time, all that I learned from my Dale Carnegie course was out the window. I was not being very nice to Principessa.
One of the old salts at the harbor later told me to get some silicone dry lube and spray the slugs before I leave. That would have helped.
Now, I hank on the foresail, attach the halyard, thread the jib sheets, and route the halyard back to the cockpit (I don't even think my previous owner knew that he could do this) before we cast off.
The upside: Some of the other sailors on our pier took pity on us. They offered us some pointers and encouragement.
Monday, February 1, 2010
B.O.A.T.
Supposedly, "Boat" is an acronym for "break out another thousand." So far, we haven't spent too many thousands. A lot of "hundreds," though. And a couple of thousand on the horizon.
For us, "Boat" stands for "break our @$$ trying." So far, we have been painters, electricians, plumbers, carpenters, and mechanics, not to mention sailors. For every hour we have sailed, there have been several more spent on maintenance and repairs.
Putzing around on the boat can actually be rewarding. After spending our work days doing endless paperwork, it is refreshing to look at a tangible finished product. But doing tedious work, working in cramped spaces, and looking at a seemingly never-ending task list can get aggravating. Especially in the hottest part of the summer.
Right now, here is my todo list:
Cheap fixes:
1. Reattach the door inside the cabin.
2. Replace a broken guide so I can raise the main from the cockpit.
3. Fix the lazyjacks.
4. Redo much of the DC wiring. The salt water has corroded a lot of it. Also, there has been a lot of splicing on over the years. And we need some conduit. Some of the wires run through storage compartments and are subject to damage.
5. Replace the cracked fitting to the vent on the waste tank (move this to No. 1)
6. Wash the sails
7. Replace the shackles on the main at the battens with cloth fasteners so the main won't "hang up."
8. Put on bow lettering.
9. Re-register in LA and place that lettering on bow.
10. Buy a sailcover for the foresail so we can store it on deck.
11. Carefully inspect the shore power wiring and connections to make sure the saltwater hasn't corroded them.
12. Stain the brightwork again. Alternatively, I am considering replacing the railing with brushed aluminum. Tired of staining, and we can always put the teak railing back on if we decide to.
The expensive stuff:
1. Have the boat hauled out and have the bottom sanded, faired (?), and painted. Ouch!
2. Paint the deck, cockpit, and cabin top (what a pain in the butt!)or have it painted.
3. Fix the tear in the mainsail or replace the main. Haven't figured that one out yet.
Wish list:
Paint the hull above the water line.
I have probably forgotten a few things. This list is daunting.
For us, "Boat" stands for "break our @$$ trying." So far, we have been painters, electricians, plumbers, carpenters, and mechanics, not to mention sailors. For every hour we have sailed, there have been several more spent on maintenance and repairs.
Putzing around on the boat can actually be rewarding. After spending our work days doing endless paperwork, it is refreshing to look at a tangible finished product. But doing tedious work, working in cramped spaces, and looking at a seemingly never-ending task list can get aggravating. Especially in the hottest part of the summer.
Right now, here is my todo list:
Cheap fixes:
1. Reattach the door inside the cabin.
2. Replace a broken guide so I can raise the main from the cockpit.
3. Fix the lazyjacks.
4. Redo much of the DC wiring. The salt water has corroded a lot of it. Also, there has been a lot of splicing on over the years. And we need some conduit. Some of the wires run through storage compartments and are subject to damage.
5. Replace the cracked fitting to the vent on the waste tank (move this to No. 1)
6. Wash the sails
7. Replace the shackles on the main at the battens with cloth fasteners so the main won't "hang up."
8. Put on bow lettering.
9. Re-register in LA and place that lettering on bow.
10. Buy a sailcover for the foresail so we can store it on deck.
11. Carefully inspect the shore power wiring and connections to make sure the saltwater hasn't corroded them.
12. Stain the brightwork again. Alternatively, I am considering replacing the railing with brushed aluminum. Tired of staining, and we can always put the teak railing back on if we decide to.
The expensive stuff:
1. Have the boat hauled out and have the bottom sanded, faired (?), and painted. Ouch!
2. Paint the deck, cockpit, and cabin top (what a pain in the butt!)or have it painted.
3. Fix the tear in the mainsail or replace the main. Haven't figured that one out yet.
Wish list:
Paint the hull above the water line.
I have probably forgotten a few things. This list is daunting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
