Ed Herndon on Great Ketch
The anchor alarm went off several times during the night as the boat changed position. The .05 nm criteria seems to cause alarms to easily so I moved it up to .06 nm. We are not moving that much but the GPS error can be around 200 feet.
We just had to try out the new dinghy. Marion packed some chips and cold beer and we set out to find a easy way to the San Jose beach. We went down the shoreline to the junction of the Lydia Ann and the Aransas Channels. There are some old pilings sticking out about 3 feet in shallow water near the point. We tied the dinghy fore and aft between two pilings to prevent the dinghy from bumping.
The shoreline path starts out as a narrow beach and soon becomes a muddy bluff with shallow water over a sandy bottom. Still further along the shoreline is rip-rap and a rough and rocky bottom. Comming later would be the granite which forms the jetty. It was climb the cliff or turn back. We turned back.
When we returned to the dinghy it was rocking rather vigorously in the wake of a passing boat. That was not such a good idea to tie up that way. I untied and drug the boat to the shoreline shallows.
"Let's move on, we aren't going to get to the beach this way," said I.
Marion replied, "You know... I really would like an Ice Cream."
"Great Idea," said I, "That's what dinghys are for."
We were off in a few seconds and quickly got up on plane. The 8 HP Johnson is a good match for the 10 foot Avon.
In the harbor we just ghosted along. We got to see all of the sights we had missed while coming and going on Great Ketch. The houses, the boats, the birds perched on the pilings; these all became visible at 2 kts. We went to the end of the harbor, Deep Sea Headquarters, tied up and went into the store. Beer, ice, tee shirts, fishing stuff, but no Ice Cream. We found what we wanted at the Circle K across the street.
Got back into the boat with an Eskimo Pie running down my wrist. (Marion is a neater eater.) Started up and headed for Woody's to get a bag of Ice and a Six pack. That done, we made a mad dash across the Channel and up to our boat parked across from the Lydia Ann Lighthouse.
Stowed the Ice and brought out the Dinghy Wheels. Each attachs with a pair of pins into an aluminum channel on either side of the transom. In the stowed/up position they stick up a little higher than the engine. Release the top pin and the wheel swings down into the water. Re-pin the wheel at the lower end and it is securely locked in place underwater. The bottom of the wheel is about 3 inches below the engine propeller, so when you beach the boat, the engine can stay in position.
We trolled along the shoreline to the area where we had previously crossed to the beach.
"This doesn't look like it to me," said Marion, "not enough beach.. too much weeds".
"Marion, just trust me, I am good at this. See the low light green cactus looking plants. That's where we went."
This time, however, we were at high tide and there were literally hundreds of fiddler crabs scurrying away among the cactus like stuff as we marched through the somewhat marshy area. Marion was eager to get out of there.
A few inches higher in elevation and the terrain turns to crunchy sand and less dense vegitation.
"Remember this part," said I, "This is the sandy desert area. I bet we can even find the footprints we left two weeks ago".
A minute or so later, "Ed, here they are.. both yours and mine."
I felt vindicated as a pathfinder but kept my mouth shut. The footprints disappeared after a few yards as we entered the heavier going. It took about a half an hour and we found a lot of familiar landmarks along the way. We emerged from the dunes very close to where we had been before. I could tell... there were pelicans standing right there when we left.
This time it wasn't quite so hot, a few clouds to block the sun, and a good breeze. We went into the surf to cool off. On the beach I found a pair of 5 gallon plastic barrels to use for seating. We sat and had a beer and chips.
Marion explored the dunes and I started a drip castle in the sand. When she returned, she had found a fish net float that matched the one I had picked up in the dunes. "There's not much good stuff on this beach", she announced.
"See way down the beach... there is something pretty large sticking up in the surf."
"Maybe its a boat wrecked on the shore."
"Let's go see." We agreed and started down toward it.
Marion did the high and dry sand, I did the shallow water looking for sand dollars. Marion found a bailing sponge that you would pay $5 for in the store. I found the last two sand dollars on San Jose Island. Actually these were about the size of a quarter. That's pretty slim pickins for a 3 mile walk on the beach.
The thing in the surf turned out to be the mast and derrick works from a sunken shrimp boat. It had probably been there for years.
We walked back to our cooler, had a dip in the surf, and a beer before our trek back over the dunes.
We used the offshore chart to keep track of progress. The wind was out of the East. We were really close hauled and not able to point the 45 Degree heading needed for Port O'Conner. We had nice wind and used the engine to help out. The best we could do was about 6 kts and 30 degrees.
"The weatherman said the wind would move around to the South East", I explained to Marion, "but right now it seems to be around 80 degrees. We are heading sorta toward the beach."
"We need to get into the port before dark", she observed.
"We are going to have to tack out to get further offshore," I said, "so let's come about, and head out for an hour, then point up the coast."
We plotted the point where we turned to get further offshore. An hour later we were 5 miles south east of the turn. When I plotted that point it was obvious that we were almost four miles South of the last turn. That poor tack had cost us 4 miles that would have to be made up. I didn't show Marion the plot for another hour. By that time we had barely made back the 4 miles I had lost.
Marion asked, "How we doing on time?"
"Not too good," I admitted, "but the wind is beginning to move around to the South East and we are laying the mark."
"What's the GPS give for arrival?" she asked.
"Around 19:30," I said, "but that's to the buoy offshore, and we still have to go through the jetties."
"That chart looks like we went the wrong way," she said.
"Yes," I answered weakly.
Then I said, "Marion, I want you to make some of these decisions... so ...I won't be stuck with all of the mistakes".
I thought she would die laughing. Then she asked for my notepad and pencil. "I'm going to record that for posterity," she said.
We both laughed.
"You got me," I said, "Now, please get us both gin and tonics."
When we finally did arrive about a mile off the Port O'Conner jetties the sun had just set and the nav aids weren't visible. It was too dark to see the buoys, and not dark enough to see the lights. We did see a boat coming out so we headed for that point. As darkness fell we could make out the lights. About that time a crew boat came along heading for port.
"This is sailing vessel Great Ketch, approaching the Port O'Conner jetties.. I'm heading inbound, and I'm looking at a tug on my starbord side."
An eternal four seconds of silence elapsed before he answered "Sailboat, this is the Crewboat Melanie."
"Captain, I'm the sailboat off your stern.. We are entering this channel for the first time and need some help getting in. Will you advise us?"
"Sure, You got channel 18?"
After moving channels he asked, "Where you heading? Port O'Conner?"
"No, just to an anchorage at Marker 13," I said. "Tomorrow we want to head out at first light for Freeport offshore."
"Just pull in behind me and I'll slow down. What's your speed?" he asked.
"Four and a half over the ground",
By now its pitch black night, no moon and a bewildering array of lights ahead. Because the channel makes a left turn shortly after the shoreline is passed, there is a mixture of red and green lights on the left side of the channel. Very confusing if you have never been there.
When he reached Marker 13 the Melanie stopped and shone his spotlight on the rocky shore and said, "Turn left here, between those rocks and the Marker."
Moving his spotlight he said, "... See that house on the shore .. there's rocks over there too. Y'all be fine now have a good night."
I thanked him the best could and Marion who was on the helm said, "I don't like that rocky shore, you take it in."
"Not me ... I'll get on the bow with the light and shine it on the rocks."
That worked for a while. Then Marion reported, "The depth is 65 feet."
I hurried back to the helm. Surely we weren't getting back into the dredged channel, were we?
I took the helm and very slowly circled around. I pulled out the chart. It said the depth should be around 8 feet. We were in 35 feet of water.. .. then 24, then 12. I instinctively put it into reverse and we were soon back in deep water.
There were fishermen in a small boat over by the bank. The were using powerful blue-green colored lights underwater to attract the fish. I called to them, "Where can we anchor?"
They called back shining one of their lights, "Anchor there." and then, moving the light to a point right in front of us, "Watch out for those rocks."
I moved back some more and dropped the anchor. I kept the scope short because there was little wind or current. I didn't want to drift into the rocky shore.
We were exhausted. Marion went to bed without eating. I poured a stiff brandy and sat out on a lawn chair and watched the stars, the fishermen and the passing traffic.
When I finally went to bed, Marion went topside and spent the night.
I awoke at about 4 AM and there was enough moon to see the surrounding shorelines and the rocks we had missed. Anchoring in the dark in a strange place should be avoided. Even if nothing bad happens, as was our case, you will surely have a fitful nights sleep. The Night at Marker 13 was over.
Weighed anchor around 6:30 and were heading out the channel when we heard the call, "Great Ketch, Great Ketch, Melanie"
It was the crewboat that helped us in last night.
"Melanie this is Great Ketch how about 18?"
"Great Ketch just calling to see how you made out last night."
I told him about the anchoring drill, deep water, and the restless night. I assured him we were fine told him of our plan to sail to Freeport. Again I thanked him for his very kind assistance.
The winds were light and from the North as we left the jetties. Our plan was to get several miles offshore and hope the wind turned around to the promised South East. At any rate we were able to sail a 60 degree course for the first couple of hours.
There were thunderstorms further south and behind us. Around 10 the wind shifted to 40 degrees and about 8 kts. We were no longer making progress toward Freeport.
"I don't think we will be able top make Freeport unless we use the engine all the way," said I.
Marion answered, "That's not fun and I don't want to enter Freeport after dark."
"Let's turn back to Port O'Conner... we can decide where to go on the way."
We turned back and reviewed the plans for the week. They were too busy... Go to Freeport... Visit Sam and Charlotte... Sail with them aboard to Galveston for the TMCA cruise... Sail back to Freeport and drop them off .. then... Sail home on Laborday.
We called Sam and Charlotte on the cell phone and cancelled the rendezvous with them. Charlotte was relieved not to be sailing with her leg in a cast. The pressure of the heavy schedule was gone.
Our GPS said, "Try Matagorda, its 25 miles, and you will be in by 4 PM."
"Thanks, GARMIN," I replied, "I'll pass that on to Marion."
She was very happy, and so was I.
There is a spoil bank and a dredge operating at the intersection of the Port Lavaca channel and the ICW. Surely we can cut the corner with only a 4'2" draft. WRONG ! So after bumping, we backed up 100 yards to the channel and did the marked route.
Once in the ICW the winds began to freshen and moved around to the South East. With full sails up and no engine we were doing 6 kts across the bay. We even passed a tow to become the lead boat in a parade consisting of Great Ketch and three tows.
"This is sailing vessel Great Ketch Eastbound in the ICW at mile 453. I'm looking at a Westbound tow coming round the bend. I'm half empty. See you on the one whistle, Captain?"
"One whistle be fine... Hey, what are you half full of?"
"Just about everything.."
When we got to Matagorda, I tried my hand at docking. It wasn't too graceful, with the wind onto the bulkhead I bumped the docks pretty hard. Injured pride, boat just fine.
Rode bikes to town and I treated the cook to dinner at the Seabreeze. Stuffed Red Snapper for me, Lump Crabmeat in a white wine sauce for Marion, Chardonnay to wash it down. Skipped the desert this time, and pedalled hard going back to the boat. What will the scales say when we get home?
"Up in the morning.. Out on the job...
Work like the devil for my pay..."
That song just came out, sorry about that. I need to get a microphone so I can put Real Audio on the Website.
"Nevermind!"
"Who said that, nevermind?"
I tied the dock cart to the luggage rack on my bike and we headed off to the Grocery store to stock up for our two day stay at San Bernard river. It makes a neat trailer. We got five bags of stuff in it for the trip. Boat/US has them on sale for about $35. They are very handy and fold up to a manageable size.
What a lovely day for sailing. The trip is about 35 miles and the 10 kt South East wind affords a beam reach all the way. We have Old Glory flying from Main halyard and are using Jib and Mizzen to go by.
As we approach San Bernard river I take down sails and Marion has the engine running. I decide to strike Old Glory too. In the process I release the flag halyard and it floats on the breeze out of reach. Right at that time there are three tow barges on the scene: One coming down the San Bernard has announced his intention to go westbound in the ICW. Another behind us is Eastbound. The third is the closest, and he is Westbound just passing the river. Marion has permission for a one whistle passage and I am trying to catch the flying halyard that is off to port side using the extension pole with boat hook.
"What will happen if the halyard snags that Towboat?"
"I don't think it will," I replied, "Just give him normal room."
"If I come up into the wind, maybe you can catch the halyard."
"Try if you like," said I, "but I don't think we can't loose the flag up the main halyard."
"I'm moving over some more," Marion said.
"That's fine, I'll get the flag later."
Later was when we got to the anchorage. On the way to the anchorage we turned through the wind and now the main halyard ran from the top of the main mast over the triadic stay, the flag was draped over the triadic and the flag halyard was over the top of the mizzen mast around the VHF antenna. What a mess.
Once we got anchored fore and aft in the river, I turned to the task of rescuing the flag. The boat hook would not snag the loose line, so I attached a fishing lure with two treble hooks onto the boat hook. That snagged the halyard and allowed me to attach 200 feet of a light weight line to it. Then I rowed ashore with the long line and from a distance away I was able to whip the main halyard, flag and flag halyard off the VHF antenna and the triadic. Marion did not get a ride to the top of the mizzen after all.
That evening as night fell 4 fishermen arrived across the river from us. They were gigging for flounder and spent the whole night doing it. They surely got their limits if there is one.
We spent most of the day running around in the dinghy and going to the beach.
I did a sandcastle, took some pictures and searched the beach for treasures. Someone had apparently lost a lot of Fishing tackle overboard, because I recovered wrigglers, noisemaker attachments in their original wrappers, floats and two fancy lures. Probably $10 worth of stuff.
I also found one nice peice of driftwood for the garden collection. In the afternoon I patched the Westerbeke exhaust riser with Marine Tex as a stopgap repair until we get home.