Updated on August 12, 2016
Hard Aground
So the other day, I was enjoying my post-coffee time in the head, when the whole boat slowed down. It wasn’t that gradual, we’re-coming-to-a-lock slowdown—it was violent; the bow dipped way down, and I almost slid off the toilet. It was like the Millennium Falcon coming out of light-speed; clearly something was wrong with our hyperdrive.
Racing up to the cockpit as fast as modestly possible, I expected to find Michu frantically doing…something. Instead, he was just sitting there with an I’m-trying-not-to-swear look on his face. We were hard aground, our keel stuck deep in the muddy bottom of the Erie Canal.
Now, our boat has a deep draft. Officially, the keel sticks down six feet, nine inches below the waterline, but fully loaded down, it’s much more; we just pretend it’s seven feet. We’ve run aground three times so far on this trip: once, getting to a slip just off of the St. Claire River; once, pulling into the wall to tie up in Lockport; and once trying to get fuel on the canal at a gas dock that was too shallow for us. All of these approaches were slow; we were also right next to a pier, so we were able to easily pull ourselves off the bottom. This was not the case here.
After some futile attempts as reversing our way out of the muck with the engine alone, we decided to set a kedge anchor off the stern and throw the rode on an aft winch to grind our way out of trouble.
It didn’t work.
We tried rocking the boat to free the keel (ahem, dinghy sailors), but since the boat weighs about 20,000 pounds, that was a non-starter. Our mast is down, so we couldn’t send someone out on the boom or the spinnaker pole to heel the boat up. Finally, we decided to take the anchor off the stern; row it out to the port side and a little aft; and throw the rode on the capstan for the anchor windlass. Motoring backward and forward, with the kedge anchor pulling us off to port (and deeper water) as we wiggled out of the mud, we were finally able to break free.
What went well:
- We had our secondary anchor ready to go in the stern lazarette.
- We had the dinghy ready to launch off the arch.
- We were able to come up with more than one feasible plan to get ourselves free.
- We were able to stop and assess what we were doing, and make a new plan when needed.
- No one got mad at anyone else.
- We were careful with loaded-up lines and heavy anchors, and no one was injured.
- Winds were calm, and there were no waves; we had all day to work the problem, and really, nothing would have impeded us from spending the night. Time wasn’t an issue.
What didn’t go well:
- Well, we ran aground. That wasn’t so awesome.
- We knew that part of the canal was shallow, and had been warned to hug the north side; even though we were solidly in the channel, we could have been more to the north.
- T got scared down below, and we didn’t notice. We had a post-incident family meeting about letting parents know when a kid is scared.
- We ended up blocking off the whole Canal with our anchor rode. Normally, we would have radioed a warning to other boats, but our hand-held VHF’s don’t have much of a range, so we didn’t think it would be helpful. Fortunately, no one came through.
All told, we spent about an hour and a half getting ourselves free. Somehow, we both had the idea that kedging off would be kind of like trimming a spinnaker; you just kind of pull the line, and the boat moves in the proper direction. Instead, it was more like an Olympic event; the load on the lines was huge, and even then we couldn’t pull ourselves back. Lessons learned all around.
Posted on August 12, 2016
Way more than 15 miles
Everyone on the Erie Canal is a waver, and that’s a lot of people—other boats, bikers walkers, bridge tenders—everyone. I love it.
We’re mid-way through our canal transit, and it has been lovely. We haven’t seen as many boats as we expected, and very few sailboats such as ours, making our way to the ocean and points south. Maybe we’re a bit early? Either way, we’re finding this section of our trip pretty relaxing and stress-free.
The “flight of five” historic locks in Lockport; as seen from the bridge at left, and from the water after exiting the modern locks at right.
The canal area, like much of the midwest, has been in a drought; we had a brief rainstorm one night, but otherwise, it’s been hot and sunny. We’re glad for the bimini; the fans down below have been going 24-7; we’ve been swimming in some less-than-pristine waters, just to cool off.
At 5 to 6 miles an hour, it’s taking us a while to motor across the state. The days are pretty long, but we’re feeling solid in our lock transiting skills—it’s already become routine to motor in, grab a fore and aft line to hold with our work gloves, and drop down into the cool well of the empty canal. The smell is not so great, but we enjoy the shade while it lasts.
We’re already past the lift bridges—the last one was at Fairport—but for a long stretch, we had bridges and lock tenders keeping track of us, radioing ahead to the next stop so they knew we were coming. Some tenders take care of more than one bridge; they’d wave and honk as they passed us on the road.
We are starting to tire of the engine noise; the heat and humidity are oppressive; we’ve banged our heads on the mast more times than we can count. But we’re still happy to have such protected water, and worry less about the weather; we’re also enjoying so many free places to tie up for the night, and the friendly people we’ve met along this path.
Primary form of public art along the canal: the mural
Posted on August 8, 2016
On to the East
We left Cleveland and pushed kind of hard to get to Buffalo. The less said about our time on Erie the better; we had unfavorable winds and not-wonderful marina time, and with the exception of beautiful Presque Isle State Park (80 degree water! Quiet anchorage! Lovely!), we were happy to see the back of it.
Our time in Buffalo was task-focused: we had to get the mast down, in preparation for the Erie Canal; we had concerns about the multiple fluids leaking from the engine area; we had a serious laundry situation. We also had managed to book up most of August with plans–meeting up with family and friends on both the canal and in NYC–so we were anxious to get going, but unsure how long we’d be held up with boat tasks. Fortunately–finally!–things went our way.
Our home in Buffalo was the First Buffalo River Marina, and we can’t say enough good things about them. You probably won’t find them in any cruising guide–they don’t have fuel or a pump-out (which lead to a challenging bathroom situation down the line)–but they were wonderful to work with. Their yard guys were top-notch and on schedule, plus their rates were the cheapest in the area. They contracted with an outstanding diesel mechanic who diagnosed most of our problems as Paranoia, and worked with Michu to get the engine properly aligned. The staff and residents of the marina went out of their way to be helpful, giving us rides to the laundromat and grocery store. After our dispiriting week in Lake Erie, we found Buffalo to be amazing.
While the boat was being torn apart, the kids and I pulled our typical library move, and explored a bit of the city. We were docked on the outer harbor, but for a dollar, a ferry would bring us across to the free train. We checked out the art deco City Hall and the interesting downtown buildings, and picked up Michu for some wings and beef on weck. Across from the boat, the canal front was a non-stop party, with Zumba classes and live music until late.
We finally got on the move Saturday morning, planning to meet up with friends in Lockport. After motoring across the river for a dozen doughnuts from Tim Horton’s (indulgence!), we headed to Black Rock Lock, planning for the ten o’clock opening. Our first lock! We were so excited, and kind of nervous. After failing to get in touch with lock master on the VHF (maybe these things are broken? Do we need new hand-held radios?), we looked up their phone number and gave them a call to confirm our transit. Crickets. What the heck? I mean, the lock is in sight, we hustled to get here, why aren’t they answering? We tried the newly-installed loud-hailer. Nope. Oh…they don’t open until 11 on Saturday. Right. So we proceeded to commit a federal crime by tying up to the wall to wait for an hour.
We need to work on reading signs.
Fortunately, the lock operator declined to arrest us, and we transited our first lock without incident. We descended five whole feet, motored past Tonawanda, and voila–we were in the Erie Canal.
Posted on August 4, 2016
Cleveland Rocks
Of course, as soon as I posted about not stopping, we stopped. We ended up spending three days in Cleveland, waiting on fairer winds, and saw a lot of different sides to the city.
Flavor one: revitalized tourist town. We traveled downtown to the amazing main public library, which was exhibiting a first folio edition of Shakespeare’s complete works; then walked across a couple of beautiful public squares, past the food trucks and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, to the Great Lakes Science Center. A freighter was open for tours, right next to an adorable harbor that was not deep enough for our boat; the Browns’ stadium was right there as well.
The Science Center might well be the best kids’ science museum we’ve ever visited, and we’ve seen quite a few. It was packed with kids, but there was so much to see and do, you rarely had to wait on anything. It was Explore Space Week, which they clearly take seriously—the Glenn Space Center is a permanent exhibit, with an actual space capsule used to supply Space Lab in 1973, and a real moon rock.
We stopped at a fancy grocery store on the way back to the boat, and treated ourselves to take-out sushi.
The night we came into town, there was a free concert downtown featuring Carlos Santana (we missed it). Fireworks, and more free music, last night. The city is filled with museums; we didn’t even scratch the surface. Clearly, a lot has been invested in the city center.
Flavor two: working class town. This is a busy marina, right next to a busy, race-focused yacht club; but it’s right next to the sewage treatment plant. (We had a choice between here, and a spot next to an airport; thanks to the easterly wind, I clearly chose…poorly.) Lots of heavily-used, older, 25-foot fishing boats; lots of clearly-not-used “project” boats. Lots of dock parties. We haven’t been getting much sleep.
Despite the renovations in central downtown, there are still ore docks right on the lakefront. We’re hearing trains from the boat; tracks separate the marina from the town, running all along the lakeshore. There’s still plenty of heavy industry in Cleveland.
Flavor three: economically struggling town. I think the easiest way to see Cleveland from a boat is to take your dinghy into downtown from one of the marinas, but as our outboard is still on the sidelines, we opted to take the bus. The main street nearest to us had a few craft-beer sandwich places and bike shops making inroads, but our main impression was of boarded-up empty buildings, dollar stores and fast food restaurants. There was no hardware store within walking distance, and the one grocery store was grim. There was a big police presence at the branch library nearby. People looked like they were struggling.
When we talked to locals here—on the bus, at the library, at the marina—they’re excited about how their town is doing. We heard a lot of pride about the various events going on around the city, and people were happy about how things were going for Cleveland; but I’d hate to leave the impression that the city is only manicured downtown parks and awesome museums. On the other hand—traveling through the tourist towns of Michigan and the North Channel, it’s easy to forget about any kind of diversity–racial, economic, you name it. We’ve mostly been seeing facelifted, sanitized lakefronts, with t-shirt shops and ice cream stores; Cleveland has depth. There’s a lot going on here, and it’s not just for show.
Some things that are just for show: before and after of Michu’s facial hair; we’re calling the new style “the chinhawk.”
Posted on August 2, 2016
Cost to Cruise: July
Boilerplate disclaimer: this is not what it will cost you to cruise.
People’s constant advice, discussing cruising finances, always seems to be: It’ll cost what you have. We did not find this helpful in our planning, however true it may be. What we’re trying to show is the cost to us, more or less, for one month to go cruising. We’re going for monthly expenses, because they’re easier for us to track; so you won’t see the boat insurance amortized, you’ll just see that expense when we pay it. It won’t be what you’ll spend, but it was the kind of information that helped us out when we were trying to wrap our heads around that magical number for our cruising kitty.
So, for July: well, it wasn’t quite where we hoped we’d be, budget-wise, but it was pretty close. There was a lot of motoring, especially since we left Lake Huron. Wind follows the St. Clair and Detroit Rivers, either pushing you along or slowing you down, and it was in our face the whole time; things did not improve for us on Erie. What kind of weather system is this, where it blows form the East for a week and a half?! Clearly we are still too attached to marinas, and we did a fair amount of grocery shopping in small-town stores where prices were a bit high. Still–not too shabby.
We’re modeling our expense chart after the good folks at Terrapin. A Canadian dollar was converted to a US dollar at 77 cents.
Marinas: $573.73 Grocery: $684.14 Restaurants: $270.85 Supplies: $25.72 Booze: $0 Ice Cream: $31.85 Laundry: $16.86 Transportation: $20 Communications: $0 (but continued cursing at the Wave antenna) Entertainment: $44 Pumping out: $55 Boat parts: $311.33 (including digital charts of the North Channel) Fuel: $33.98--stove; $207.61--diesel GRAND TOTAL: $2275.07
Yeah, we still have the Netflix subscription. We’re optimistic about WiFi during our trip through the Erie Canal–three more episodes of The Flash to go! Also not too sure where to file certain expenses–entertainment versus homeschool, supplies versus groceries–so things are maybe a bit fungible, but you get the general idea.
August is going to be a straight-up disaster, financially–which is fine, we’re braced for it. We’ve got unavoidable expenses associated with the Canal–dropping and raising the mast, permits, and diesel for motoring across the entire state; we plan to spend time in NYC, which by definition costs money; and we may or may not be confronting some painful engine repairs in Buffalo. There seems to be a fair amount of oil leaking from…everywhere. Is it the rear main seal, which is known to fail on this engine? Did something catastrophic happen when we overheated in Pentwater? Or is this just how much oil has always been leaking, and we’re only just noticing because of all the motoring? The suspense is killing us.