Ship's Log - Page 5
7/8/2000 - Saturday - We Finally Get The Slip!!, or Dinosaur People of Mystery Island!
We made the fateful call late Thursday afternoon. Ring...ring..."Hi - it's us again. No sir, I do not have your number on speed dial 
(a bald faced lie). We have been on your waiting list for a slip for two years now - yes sir, I know that you know - and we were wondering if there might be a transient slip available for us to use this weekend. Yes sir...uh huh...WHAT? EXCUSE ME?? WE GOT A PERMANENT SLIP?!? IS THIS A JOKE? AM I BEING FILMED?? YOU'RE SERIOUS?!? YESSSS!!!! (Slight pause to allow entire family to do our best Riverdance impressions across the kitchen floor) OK, yes sir, I am settling down (deep breath)...what's that? Yes sir, I will promise to take your number off of our speed dial. Yes sir, I know that you knew."
Wow, what luck the new name Beach Girl had already brought us. After much careful 
consideration, we renamed Kidogo to something a little closer to home. I had been making lists of boat names for years before we even bought the boat, but nothing seemed quite right. One day while walking on the beach with my wife Emily and 3 year old Anna Kate, my daughter spoke up. As she ran ahead of us, laughing and splashing in the tidal pools, completely covered with sand and with both hands full of shells, she shouted, "Look at me! I'm a beach girl!" Emily and I looked at each other. That was it. Case closed. In typical fashion, we had over analyzed the name thing, trying way too hard to find a good one. Then, when we weren't looking, it found us. The best ideas always do.
I put new striping on the sides (hard work to get it straight!) and ordered a new graphic for the stern. It was time for the re-christening. Since the boat was in our back yard at the time, I went to the closest ramp and filled a bottle with Ashley River water. We carefully read and followed the 48 Degree North Vigor's Interdenominational
Boat Denaming Ceremony, and ended with a splash of water on the hull, kisses, and hugs all around (including Beach Girl!).
On the morning of Saturday, July 8th, 2000 we put in at Remley's Point in Mt. Pleasant and sailed with a nice breeze under the Cooper River bridge (watch out for falling rivets!), past Waterfront Park, and down along the Battery. No matter how many times we do this sail, I am always struck with how beautiful Charleston is in the bright sunshine, especially from the water. The skyline still looks a lot like it did before and during the Civil War. It is not hard at any one time to imagine yourself sailing out on a blockade runner bound for England.
We went up the Ashley as far as the James Island Connector, and had to turn in close quarters and motor back against the chop. Many cruising boats use this area of Charleston Harbor for an anchorage, but it seems poorly protected, often getting direct rollers in from the Atlantic. Getting back out we were hitting the incoming waves so hard that it made our teeth rattle, and woke Anna Kate up from her nap on the V-berth.
We motored back upriver and to calmer waters. We found a little bay protected from the wind on the northern tip of Drum island, on the Cooper River side. We anchored off of an interesting beach 
there made entirely of shells. Drum Island is used to dump the dredge material from the harbor and from various shipping lanes in and around Charleston. As a result, Drum is a terrific place to hunt for mysterious remnants of marine life and occasional shark teeth. I jumped into the cool, refreshing water (with my Teva sandals on to guard against shell cuts) and swam around the boat. Anna Kate wanted to come in too, so Emily handed her over the side to me in her life jacket. We bounced around awhile together, splashing and kicking in the water, until Anna Kate, who had previously dubbed our landfall Mystery Island, wanted to go exploring. We waded up onto the shore and had great fun dashing back and forth picking up interesting shells and looking for prehistoric shark teeth. Emily came up on the beach at this point and joined in, helping us track down clues to locate Anna Kate's latest invention, the Dinosaur People of Mystery Island!
We pulled into our new slip at the marina just before dark with no problems. After tying up, Emily and I got busy in the fading light trying to figure out how to cook hot dogs on our stove when we had forgotten to bring a pot! We finally settled on grilling them by putting them directly on the burner! Under a sea of stars, we all sat back to enjoy our half-raw hot dogs to the sounds of lapping waves. Anna Kate then got a pillow from the cabin and propped against it in the cockpit. She fell asleep looking up at the blanket of stars and the rising moon, quietly wondering.
7/9/2000 - Sunday - Baseball, Somewhere
We went down to the marina and got on the boat around noon. What a joy it was to be able to step right on and cast off! We motored over to Drum (AKA Mystery) Island again, and this time anchored in two or three different spots. Anna Kate and I had fun swimming, combing the shore for shark teeth, and watching the fishermen casting along the northern tip of the island.
Back on board, I tried to rig up my semi-functional (but mostly non-functional) bed sheet bimini, while Emily boiled hot dogs on the stove. 
I narrowly avoided a mutiny from the crew by somehow remembering to bring a pot this time to boil them in! We set up the leg on the hatch cover/table and had an enjoyable lunch just talking, enjoying the water, and being together as a family. We cleaned up and then snuggled down on the cockpit seats for naps. I switched on the solar radio (a great Christmas present) and we all snoozed the afternoon away in the mid 80's breeze, listening to a Braves game. Perhaps for the first time ever it didn't matter to me who actually won the game. All that mattered was that baseball was being played somewhere, and that we were there together on the boat, napping and listening.
I struggled mightily with getting the rust off of our retractable keel. For months I tried sanding, scraping, gels, and even grinding. All I ever wound up with was filthy clothes and an aching back. I then tried just ignoring the problem, which was just fine with me - for awhile. One day, however, I found it extremely difficult to put the keel down due to corrosion. My boat is a 1986, made before the Potter keels were galvanized at the factory. Lucky me. Ug.
The time had come. I searched all over the area for a suitable boat yard to sand blast, epoxy, and paint the keel for a price 
less than we paid for the house. It proved to be a daunting task. I finally found a good one, and made an appointment to take the boat later that week. This meant that we were going to have to get Beach Girl out of her new slip (no!) and back onto the trailer (I thought I was finished with that crap!). It would have to be done Wednesday after work, and since the Remley's Point ramp is on the opposite side of the river from the marina, I was going to have to do it solo. I wasn't looking forward to it.
I zoomed over to the marina by myself after work on Wednesday, and cast off before I had too much time to talk myself out of it. To my very great surprise, I had no problems whatsoever with the motor or getting out of the marina entrance. I motored towards the crossing between Drum and Daniel Islands, where you can go from the Cooper to the Wando River if you manage to avoid being run down by a freighter five times the size of Moby Dick before starting the Subway diet.
The cell phone rang. I throttled down and answered. It was Emily, who was driving across the Cooper River Bridge with Anna Kate and the trailer in tow. 
She said they saw me, which was pretty neat, and I waved up at the roughly 200 cars crossing the rickety old span. Either the other cars didn't see me or didn't care, because I saw no hint of recognition. Admittedly, if one had turned to honk and wave there would probably have been a huge pile-up. However, I still could not help but think about how thousands of people cross the bridge each day, completely consumed in their own hectic urban lives, without ever even glancing over to appreciate one of the most beautiful waterways anywhere. It was only a few hundred feet away from them, yet it might as well have been on Neptune.
Between the two islands, I saw a fin ahead of me and throttled down. Dolphins! A whole pod! I turned the motor down to idle and watched them approach. They surrounded Beach Girl, lifting their heads for curious looks and approaching close enough to touch. They took turns diving under me and popping up on the other side. My depth/fish finder was going crazy! No fish...no fish...HUGE BUTT FISH!!!...no fish.... After a few minutes the pod slowly continued on its way. I looked around, but saw no other boat. The show had been for me, and for me alone. I said a quiet prayer of thanks.
While waiting for Emily and Anna Kate to get to the ramp, I had fun doing laps around the buoy directly out from the ramp's entrance. When they arrived, they walked to the end of the dock and waved me in. I waved back and approached successfully. I had made it! For a fleeting moment I felt like a soggy Charles Lindbergh landing in Paris...and the crowd goes wild!
Uh, well, as you can see, the boat yard took a little longer than expected in fixing the keel. We did come out of the deal with the keel sandblasted, coated, and painted blue, but our pockets had become considerably lighter from the experience.
When we finally got the boat back, we waited for the weekend to put it in the water so we could take Emily's visiting parents out for their first cruise on our boat. We were very excited and nervous at the 
same time, wanting to impress them. Study the chart...study Chapman's Piloting...study the tide table...study the weather...back to the chart.... On Sunday, September 24th, we trailered Beach Girl to the ramp. Everything was perfect. We rigged her in record time, got her into the water, and helped everyone aboard. "OK, get ready to cast off!" I lowered the engine, checked the gas, and gave her a crank. Nothing. Crank, crank, crank, crank, crank. Still nothing. "The Merc has been sitting a while. Maybe she just needs to warm up a little, heh heh." Gulp. Pulled the choke. Nothing. Shut off the gas, checking for flooding. Nothing. Cranked harder and faster. Nothing. Checked the spark plug connection. Fine. Held spark plug connection while cranking. ZAP!!! (ouch!!) Worked fine. Gapped a new plug and replaced old one. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
By this time everyone was looking at me with an impatient air of pity and boredom. Other boats were filing into and out of the water right next to us with no problems. I imagined them whispering knowingly amongst themselves, "Umm hum. Yup. Sailboat." A sudden fury burst within me. CRANKCRANKCRANKCRANKCRANKCRANKCRANK!!!!!!! "@#%&*@!! NOTAFINGA!!" Gasping for breath, I looked around to see my very sweet, church-going mother-in-law blush slightly. To her very great credit, she pretended not to hear, and continued keeping Anna Kate busy. I, on the other hand, practically died with embarrassment.
It turned out that the motor's carburetor needed to be rebuilt (again). Thanks to my great friends on the West Wight Potter Email List, I found out that the whole thing could have been avoided by using a splash of fuel stabilizer and letting the gas run out of the line before going home the last time. I would chalk one more up to experience, but I think I'm running out of blackboard space!
I took the extra time to bite the bullet (FINALLY!) and order a real bimini from
Cabela's. It came quickly, and the installation went much more easily than expected. 
We got the Cabela's 36", 3 bow bimini, with slide tracks. I mounted the bimini on slides so I could adjust it fore, to cover most of the open companionway, or aft, to cover the full cockpit. I through-bolted all hardware, and sealed all holes with polysulfide.
We finally got Beach Girl back into the water successfully on Saturday, October 10th. We put in at Remley's Point and I sailed alone (my second solo!) over to the marina while Emily drove the car over. I was able to dock with the help of some very nice folks on the docks, and Emily and Anna Kate piled in when they arrived a few minutes later. A marina boat was in our slip, but we called the office on the cell phone and it had been moved by the time we got back.
We motored over to our favorite little anchorage at Drum (AKA Mystery) island and boiled our now-traditional hot dog lunch under the wonderfully cool shade of the bimini. It was heaven - MUCH better than a bed sheet, and not nearly as embarrassing!
We took a short nap in the shade, and then went exploring. We ended up puttering along Shipyard Creek, which winds its way into the old Charleston Navy Base. There were lots of tugboats ("Look Daddy! It's Theodore!") and other interesting ships at the docks. We imagined that the vessels were top-secret Russian spy machines, and we were running the gauntlet in our souped-up S.S.P. (Super Stealth Potter) with Merc 5 Hyper Drive. Warp 9, Mr. Sulu!
We went back out and motored up the glass-calm Cooper River all the way past the I-526 bridge and to the paper mill. "PE-YEW!! YEEECHH!!! MY paper doesn't smell like that!!" We turned around, and quick! But, probably at least partially due to the same paper mill, we were treated to an unusually gorgeous sunset as we trotted Beach Girl back to her stable. We were back in the saddle again!
11/11/2000 - Saturday - Chatting With Albion About the New Millennium
It was a beautiful November day, wind 5-10 knots, increasing to 15. Temperature about 67 degrees, not a cloud in the sky. The perfect day for our last sail of the millennium.
We motored against the wind down past Waterfront Park, and looked back to see a beautiful regatta of
sailboats closing in on us! We stationed ourselves clear of the upwind mark just off the shallows of James Island, and watched the unexpected contest. As the racers rounded the buoy, they popped their huge spinnakers and filled the sky with billowing colors. We let them pass and then raised our own "regular" sails, chasing the sleek machines out past Ft. Sumter and the harbor entrance. I won't pretend that we passed anyone (except for a tour boat that was headed in the opposite direction), but it was fun trimming Beach Girl for speed, trying to get the most out of her while working with the conditions.
We tacked back along Sullivan's Island, where I practiced taking bearings on the lighthouse while Emily and Anna Kate steered. 
We reached Patriot's Point around 3:30 pm and the wind died. We then decided to deploy the iron spinnaker to make some headway. We buzzed very close to the new South Carolina Aquarium and exchanged waves with the visitors sightseeing on its outside terraces. We also got to within about 20 feet of an absolutely towering container ship being loaded at the docks. We all had fun playing "I Spy" with the exotic stenciling on the containers. Urging me still closer, Anna Kate said her favorite was the one with a Giant Panda painted on it. The loading crane then swung over us and I had a vision of one of the tractor-trailer sized boxes, stacked six high on deck, falling and putting a hole in the boat the size of Nebraska. We turned and scuttled away.
We reached the mouth of the Cooper River, and acting lookout Anna Kate pointed to fins in the water. Our old buddies the dolphins! I slowed to idle as they approached us. This pod was extremely friendly, playing around the boat and staying with us for a full 15 minutes! Several times one came up directly beside the hull, and I think they actually touched it a few times. We could have easily reached down to pet several.
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of 
this encounter was when Emily started voicing clicks and squeaks towards the animals. They actually responded! Several of the dolphins swam very close to her, lifted their heads out of the water, and looked her straight in the eye. It was as if they were saying, "What do you mean there's a mackerel in my blowhole??"
The whole experience reminded me of Albion, the white dolphin in Jimmy Buffett's great book, _Where is Joe Merchant?_ As I remember, Albion popped up from time to time to chat with Desdemona, owner of the Boomtown Space Station and Bake Shop. Albion was from beyond the stars, and came to give her advice on converting her houseboat into an operational rocket ship.
Anyway, I thought about how wonderful it would be if, behind the mysterious smile of one of these dolphins, hid Albion, full of advice for the upcoming millennium, just waiting for us to ask. What would he tell us? What could lie ahead? As our friends finally departed and headed for the open sea, I realized that these questions, like so many others, would just have to wait until next season.
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