May 5: Belleville to Pinyer Point
I was ready to sleep in, just beginning to feel caught up on sleep. But Mark was up at 6:30 and by 7:00 he had a good forecast and was ready to go. The girls were awake and bouncing excitedly. It was time to get with the program.
So we were off before breakfast. I held the wheel and cleverly moved the throttle forward until we inched off the dock. And that was all there was to it. We were on our way. It was another beautiful, warm day. We were tickled to be moving and the girls didn’t even complain about oatmeal. Tom was at the helm and Mark pointed out buoys, scouted around, and generally felt, touched, and watched this new machine/dream vehicle/home in his care. The girls and I slipped into our normal routine—food preparation, a little schooling, hanging out on the cabin top with dollies. By mid-morning we had a slight breeze and we put up the genoa. Then we put up the main. These sails are BIG! But they got Amicus II sailing, and we turned off the engine. We were in a channel so there were absolutely no waves.
Soon we discovered two delightful things—we could sail a lot closer to the wind than we could on Amicus, and we were going at least 6 knots. The standard on Amicus was 5 knots. Everything was looking very easy! We arrived at our destination by mid-afternoon and pulled in. I felt a pang as I spun the unfamiliar wheel--it was all very electronic, and big. We need to get a real –live compass on here ASAP. Watching numbers on little machines just doesn’t feel the same as turning the tiller. Anchoring with Amicus and her shallow 4 foot draft was a pleasure. This was going to be a whole new deal. But we got the hook set, thankful that we were in light winds with plenty of room. For the rest of the afternoon we dinghied to shore and ran races while Mark used a phone to call Pete (former owner—hard to cut the cord) with a question about leaking hydraulic fluid. It was barely dripping, and with an extra quart on board, he felt okay about it. Everything else was working fine.
Lunch: pea soup and bread. Supper: stir fry with TVP chunks sauted with marinated tofu, which we discovered is EXACTLY like mock duck! In fact I bet it IS mock duck. What a discovery!
By evening it was raining and we retired quickly. Mark and I discovered a leak in the corner of our hatch cover which dripped on Mark’s shoulder until he resigned himself and moved away. For once we slept apart from the knees up. The v-berth, by the way, feels at least big enough for three. Mark got up in the night because Cedar was also getting wet. We discovered that the back portholes (over the kids’ bunks) when open, get all the drip from the dodger; it was pouring water onto the bunks. Oops.
May 6: Pinyer’s Cove
Woke up to blue skies and strong westerly winds. We spent the day comfortably on board, as there was no public access. All the damp sheets were out to dry. By the late afternoon we marveled at how spacious it all seemed; even with five, we weren’t desperate to get off the boat! We are constantly comparing things. Beyond a doubt, Amicus II is much more comfortable than Amicus. We recline more as there are places to be comfortable. We can sit at the table, work in the galley, or retrieve clothes and tools without stopping every other activity. These changes will make a huge difference when it comes to bringing others aboard. On the other hand, living aboard is so familiar; in about two seconds we were all doing the exact same things we’d always done. Mark plutzed, installed, checked; I did some bucket laundry and worked in the kitchen; the girls read aloud, played, knitted; Tom helped whenever possible, hung out, and chatted. He has proven to be an able chatter with the girls. He proves Cedar wrong frequently, much to our bemusement. He takes them to higher levels both in the arena of food (“How can you POSSIBLY not even TRY that cabbage?”) and penmanship (“I think it’s mostly good but that curve there is really not very carefully done.”) With the latter he took trusting, eager-to-please Lammie right to the edge and beyond; unable to defend herself, she collapsed with hurt feelings. But her desire to attach to Tom overcame this in minutes and soon she was back. They worked on their letters diligently.
News flash: Lamar lost her first tooth! Lost it literally—it’s gone and no one knows when it came out.
Breakfast: eggs, beans, bread. Lunch: black bean soup. Supper: pasta with beef/tomato/white beans. This stove is a tiny bit smaller than our old one and every inch counts. I can only use one big pan/pot at a time. Just feeding five hungry people is proving to be a round-the-clock challenge which works as long as I do not get behind. Something needs to be soaking every night. With more people I am going to have to make some concessions. PB and J on store-bought bread may be on the menu by the end of this trip! Our big pressure cooker, filled to the top, still feeds everyone heartily for one meal.
Knock on wood—I shouldn’t say this until we go out in the big water, but I think I am less seasick on this boat. It is bigger, heavier, less bouncy. We are planning to leave before dawn and head west tomorrow.
May 7—to Coburg, ON
Tom and Mark got us out at 4:30, and Tom saved us from the rocks at 7:00…by watching the depth-sounder and believing what it said. A slight exaggeration, but we were in the wrong place and this small bit of awareness has forever endeared Tom to Mark. Tom is calm but he is paying attention, which is what counts. I have hardly sailed the boat, being preoccupied with parenting and cooking. Mark has been free to contemplate sail changes, study electronics manuals, and deal with mysterious beepings. The auto-pilot (which supposedly sailed to Bermuda without a single adjustment) went on the blink for several hours in the morning, which felt like no big deal since we’ve never had a consistently functioning auto-pilot anyway. Mark spent several minutes upside down under the cockpit checking carefully for any signs of malfunction or any clues for what was wrong. That got him nowhere, but pressing the restart button a few times worked wonders.
It was chilly and by the end of the day, raining. We put away the shorts for awhile. Except Tom, everyone took naps during the day. I crayoned and read aloud inside the cabin without any seasickness, which is unheard of for me with even a gentle roll. We motored through the lull, eager to arrive in Coburg before the real gale was to set up (more westerlies, up to 40 knots). Once again the quicker pace surprised us and we arrived by suppertime. By evening we were in the middle of a downpour and Mark’s final act of the day was to screw in coathooks for wet raingear and attempt to seal the front hatch from the outside with a plastic bag. That guy hasn’t stopped yet.
Breakfast: granola with yogurt. Lunch: leftovers. Supper: fish cakes, tofu cakes, rice, salad.
May 8—Coburg, ON
The predicted gale has yet to show its face, though the clouds are racing across the sky. Tom has agreed to continue with us after the Welland Canal, which is great news as his presence is easing the pressure for both Mark and I—we are not even maxed out! He is also an entertainer, game player, and teacher of all things from global food sources to existential philosophy. The girls are alternately confused and fascinated, and wholly delighted with his tag antics. This morning the three of them played cards while Mark and I studied the manual for the frig/freezer, determining that if we could turn on the frig whenever the wind generator was on (creating lots of electricity) we could have a semi-cool storage area for less $$$ and carbon print than a few bags of ice which are messy and wet. It’s just one manual after another. Afterward, we took off for the library where I currently sit updating this blog.
Thank you for your comments and well wishes! Sometimes it feels we are more in contact with loved ones while we sail then while we live in a house!
I was ready to sleep in, just beginning to feel caught up on sleep. But Mark was up at 6:30 and by 7:00 he had a good forecast and was ready to go. The girls were awake and bouncing excitedly. It was time to get with the program.
So we were off before breakfast. I held the wheel and cleverly moved the throttle forward until we inched off the dock. And that was all there was to it. We were on our way. It was another beautiful, warm day. We were tickled to be moving and the girls didn’t even complain about oatmeal. Tom was at the helm and Mark pointed out buoys, scouted around, and generally felt, touched, and watched this new machine/dream vehicle/home in his care. The girls and I slipped into our normal routine—food preparation, a little schooling, hanging out on the cabin top with dollies. By mid-morning we had a slight breeze and we put up the genoa. Then we put up the main. These sails are BIG! But they got Amicus II sailing, and we turned off the engine. We were in a channel so there were absolutely no waves.
Soon we discovered two delightful things—we could sail a lot closer to the wind than we could on Amicus, and we were going at least 6 knots. The standard on Amicus was 5 knots. Everything was looking very easy! We arrived at our destination by mid-afternoon and pulled in. I felt a pang as I spun the unfamiliar wheel--it was all very electronic, and big. We need to get a real –live compass on here ASAP. Watching numbers on little machines just doesn’t feel the same as turning the tiller. Anchoring with Amicus and her shallow 4 foot draft was a pleasure. This was going to be a whole new deal. But we got the hook set, thankful that we were in light winds with plenty of room. For the rest of the afternoon we dinghied to shore and ran races while Mark used a phone to call Pete (former owner—hard to cut the cord) with a question about leaking hydraulic fluid. It was barely dripping, and with an extra quart on board, he felt okay about it. Everything else was working fine.
Lunch: pea soup and bread. Supper: stir fry with TVP chunks sauted with marinated tofu, which we discovered is EXACTLY like mock duck! In fact I bet it IS mock duck. What a discovery!
By evening it was raining and we retired quickly. Mark and I discovered a leak in the corner of our hatch cover which dripped on Mark’s shoulder until he resigned himself and moved away. For once we slept apart from the knees up. The v-berth, by the way, feels at least big enough for three. Mark got up in the night because Cedar was also getting wet. We discovered that the back portholes (over the kids’ bunks) when open, get all the drip from the dodger; it was pouring water onto the bunks. Oops.
May 6: Pinyer’s Cove
Woke up to blue skies and strong westerly winds. We spent the day comfortably on board, as there was no public access. All the damp sheets were out to dry. By the late afternoon we marveled at how spacious it all seemed; even with five, we weren’t desperate to get off the boat! We are constantly comparing things. Beyond a doubt, Amicus II is much more comfortable than Amicus. We recline more as there are places to be comfortable. We can sit at the table, work in the galley, or retrieve clothes and tools without stopping every other activity. These changes will make a huge difference when it comes to bringing others aboard. On the other hand, living aboard is so familiar; in about two seconds we were all doing the exact same things we’d always done. Mark plutzed, installed, checked; I did some bucket laundry and worked in the kitchen; the girls read aloud, played, knitted; Tom helped whenever possible, hung out, and chatted. He has proven to be an able chatter with the girls. He proves Cedar wrong frequently, much to our bemusement. He takes them to higher levels both in the arena of food (“How can you POSSIBLY not even TRY that cabbage?”) and penmanship (“I think it’s mostly good but that curve there is really not very carefully done.”) With the latter he took trusting, eager-to-please Lammie right to the edge and beyond; unable to defend herself, she collapsed with hurt feelings. But her desire to attach to Tom overcame this in minutes and soon she was back. They worked on their letters diligently.
News flash: Lamar lost her first tooth! Lost it literally—it’s gone and no one knows when it came out.
Breakfast: eggs, beans, bread. Lunch: black bean soup. Supper: pasta with beef/tomato/white beans. This stove is a tiny bit smaller than our old one and every inch counts. I can only use one big pan/pot at a time. Just feeding five hungry people is proving to be a round-the-clock challenge which works as long as I do not get behind. Something needs to be soaking every night. With more people I am going to have to make some concessions. PB and J on store-bought bread may be on the menu by the end of this trip! Our big pressure cooker, filled to the top, still feeds everyone heartily for one meal.
Knock on wood—I shouldn’t say this until we go out in the big water, but I think I am less seasick on this boat. It is bigger, heavier, less bouncy. We are planning to leave before dawn and head west tomorrow.
May 7—to Coburg, ON
Tom and Mark got us out at 4:30, and Tom saved us from the rocks at 7:00…by watching the depth-sounder and believing what it said. A slight exaggeration, but we were in the wrong place and this small bit of awareness has forever endeared Tom to Mark. Tom is calm but he is paying attention, which is what counts. I have hardly sailed the boat, being preoccupied with parenting and cooking. Mark has been free to contemplate sail changes, study electronics manuals, and deal with mysterious beepings. The auto-pilot (which supposedly sailed to Bermuda without a single adjustment) went on the blink for several hours in the morning, which felt like no big deal since we’ve never had a consistently functioning auto-pilot anyway. Mark spent several minutes upside down under the cockpit checking carefully for any signs of malfunction or any clues for what was wrong. That got him nowhere, but pressing the restart button a few times worked wonders.
It was chilly and by the end of the day, raining. We put away the shorts for awhile. Except Tom, everyone took naps during the day. I crayoned and read aloud inside the cabin without any seasickness, which is unheard of for me with even a gentle roll. We motored through the lull, eager to arrive in Coburg before the real gale was to set up (more westerlies, up to 40 knots). Once again the quicker pace surprised us and we arrived by suppertime. By evening we were in the middle of a downpour and Mark’s final act of the day was to screw in coathooks for wet raingear and attempt to seal the front hatch from the outside with a plastic bag. That guy hasn’t stopped yet.
Breakfast: granola with yogurt. Lunch: leftovers. Supper: fish cakes, tofu cakes, rice, salad.
May 8—Coburg, ON
The predicted gale has yet to show its face, though the clouds are racing across the sky. Tom has agreed to continue with us after the Welland Canal, which is great news as his presence is easing the pressure for both Mark and I—we are not even maxed out! He is also an entertainer, game player, and teacher of all things from global food sources to existential philosophy. The girls are alternately confused and fascinated, and wholly delighted with his tag antics. This morning the three of them played cards while Mark and I studied the manual for the frig/freezer, determining that if we could turn on the frig whenever the wind generator was on (creating lots of electricity) we could have a semi-cool storage area for less $$$ and carbon print than a few bags of ice which are messy and wet. It’s just one manual after another. Afterward, we took off for the library where I currently sit updating this blog.
Thank you for your comments and well wishes! Sometimes it feels we are more in contact with loved ones while we sail then while we live in a house!
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