Day 35

The Petes are inter-coastal (you are supposed to say it.. INTRA COASTAL... according to PeteVP) This morning they headed down to COINJOCK and thats where they safely landed! Most of the inter-coastal has been a drendged channel through big, open water that is really shallow. In areas, there are places where it was 10 miles across and only 2 or three feet deep except in the 15 yard wide boating channel.


They are sharing this channel with huge barges and other boats, and when it looks like you have room, you don't. Everyone apparently runs aground here, and they were no exception... They ran aground pretty early on in the day... Paddling out in the dingy and dropping the anchor the winched themselves off the mudflats. They were able to set sail pretty early on in the day, which is why they ran aground... everyone motors... but it being winter, and not many boats...and being 20something year old adventurers they sailed the whole day and didn't run aground again! So now, they find themselves in North Carolina, still cold... wondering when it will begin getting warm...

DAY 34

Pete and Pete just got done watching the Superbowl. Pete informed me that the Colts won... hmmm. The cold must be getting to them.

They woke up this morning and it was cold and clear and sunny, cold enough to get a nice headache while you are standing at the tiller. Norfolk is mile zero on the Intracoastal Waterway. They have officially begun the ICW! They went through the Great Bridge locks... under some drawbridges, and they are tied up just south of the locks in Great Bridge. Tomorrow they leave Virginia and head for Coinjock, North Carolina.



From Peter Ver Ploeg:


We motored out of Norfolk in the stinging Winter wind, through a forest of construction cranes, railroad bridges, and the conning towers of great steel ships. Very impressive. Norfolk is mile zero on the Intracoastal Waterway, so even though we'd actually been on it for most of the trip, it hadn't really felt like it until now. Numerous draw bridges spanned this stretch. After the Eel Pond in Woods Hole, we were well used to those, but ahead were also our first locks, something neither of us had every been through before.


The receiver on our radio is malfunctioning. We never heard the bridge operators reply to our queries and so, unaware, called again and again. We must have annoyed the operators because none of them waved back as we motored by.

We got in to Great Bridge nice and early in the afternoon and found a spot on the public wharf. The sun was out and shining strong so we opened all the hatches, lay everything out to dry, cut our toenails (on the wharf because its bad luck to do it on board) and explored the town.


We found a couple good bars to watch the Superbowl in, one with cheap beer, one with free appetizers. When we got back to the boat, the ice was already forming on the river.

DAY 33

Pete and Pete spent the day in Norfolk waiting for the storm to blow over so it was cold, wet, and miserable and they were cold, wet, and miserable. They had seen all they wanted to see within walking distance, so they didn't have much to do. They mostly wandered around and did their own thing.

It was the first Saturday of the month and a few of the little local museums were free so, they went to some of them! Hung out in the laundry room in the marina and wrote some letters.



From Peter Ver Ploeg:

The marina where Pete and I stayed was actually on the opposite side of the harbor from Norfolk, in the town of Portsmouth, VA, a nice place, lots of old buildings, but in need of some downtown revitalization. Our slip was right next to the marina pool so Pete decided to go for a swim.





We had a fun couple days in the area, despite the weather. Strong gusting wind, freezing rain, and snow made for unpleasant sightseeing, but it could have been worse. This same storm system dumped nearly twenty inches of snow in Washington D.C. and just under thirty inches in Annapolis, MD.



Friday, we took the water taxi across the harbor to see Norfolk and tour the USS Wisconsin. The Iowa class battleship was closed to tours on account of the storm. "Aren't battleships waterproof?" I asked. We then learned the ship had been closed since a storm had come through the week before. A long silence followed as Pete and I tried to reason this one out. We couldn't. Fortunately, there was a small naval history museum that went with the ship tour and we could see that for free. A more blatantly biased museum I have never seen. This is, after all, the home of the largest navy base in the world so I suppose some leeway must be granted. A quick walk through and Pete and I were ready to enlist, but on leaving the museum, we came across a whole foods store first, so went grocery shopping instead.



The wind was hitting us on our stern all night and Strolla, always a little leaky, was allowing the rain water to drip in at a rate that was rather alarming. I set out as many pots and buckets as I could but everything around the companionway still got soaked.


Saturday, we stayed in Portsmouth. The rain had turned to heavy snow with no diminishing of wind. Pete and I visited a little museum on the history of Norfolk harbor and then toured a USCG Lighthouse ship. These ships, with big, tall light masts, are just floating lighthouses that are anchored where ever a lighthouse is needed. The ship we saw was in service for 48 years and only changed its position three times. What amazed me was that these ships were kept fully manned by a crew of eight! Talk about slow service.

DAY 32

Word from Pete and Pete last night...
They made it to Norfolk, VA. This morning they woke up and broke ice out of the harbor, and set sail, and sailed wing and wing with the wind down their stern 55 miles down to Norfolk VA. They got into the mouth of the harbor at around 5:30 and cruised around the Navel base and got to see lot of naval war ships... it is the largest navel base in the world. They counted 4 aircraft carriers, destroyers, cruisers, submarines... they were going by right at sundown so sailors were lowering all the flags on the boats... they got in and got a shower and now they are headed to the Beer Garden, which is a local German place that has 500 different kinds of beer, so they are going to get Budweiser and have some hot dogs with liberty cabbage on them!! delicious!!
The Petes want to give a shout out to Peter O. (Pete H's uncle) who set them up with the place in the marina tonight... they are pumped!



From Peter Ver Ploeg:

We left a snail trail of broken ice leading out of another harbor this morning, but soon the hoarfrost on deck was steaming in the morning sun and things were looking up. I took first shift at the helm and Pete H. went below to start cooking; corned beef hash, fried bread, and maple syrup grits. Pete brought along a quart of pure NH maple syrup and I've yet to find a food that wasn't improved by the addition of it. This was a big breakfast for us. Normally, we just have oatmeal with maple syrup, but, with any luck this would be our last day on the Chesapeake so we felt like celebrating.




Before food we always have tea. Tea to wakes us up and warm us up. The kettle gets set to boiling before we even get dressed in the morning. We can suck down two or three pots of scalding hot tea over the course of a single day. Its the elixir of life when you're standing on deck in the wind and spray, and the only way we can seem to stay hydrated.

At the start of the trip we drank coffee, lots and lots of coffee, but when our friend Chris Bancroft joined us for the leg of the trip from New York to Baltimore, he became concerned with our growing dependency on the dark brew and chucked our french press overboard one morning in New Jersey. There followed a period of unusual tenseness aboard the Strolla, but by the time he left us in Maryland, we were all speaking to each other once again. That was the end of the coffee. Now, we drink tea.









Today was a great day for sailing. Wing and wing for more than fifty miles. Strolla doing a kind of lazy sashay as the two foot following seas passed us by. The sun poking out from behind heavy cloud cover just long enough to redden my cheeks and toss a few more freckles on Pete's nose. And then it was dusk and we were rounding the point into Norfolk.



Norfolk, with its huge naval base and commercial shipping docks, was a bustling hive of activity. Black Hawk helicopters droned in pairs along the horizon, touching down and taking off like bees collecting nectar. Container ships, tugs, and tankers made their unswerving progress towards distant destinations. No more than fifty yards from our port rail were all the navy ships lined up in their docks. We counted four aircraft carriers and at least another ten miscellaneous destroyers, cruisers, and submarines. Fighter jets zipped off into the clouds and communications planes circled overhead. It was quite a sight. Motoring by in the gathering dark, taps sounded over the loudspeakers and echoed across the water and, as we watched, a color guard on the deck of each ship struck its colors for the night.


Fun fact: the lights a large ship (like a tugboat pushing a barge) blend in with the lights a big city (like Norfolk) making it almost impossible to pick out at night. Especially, if that tug is heading straight for you so its lights don't appear to move against the background.

Pete's uncle Pete set us up with a slip at a place he knew called the Tidewater Yacht Marina. We tied up, raced into the marina house for a shower, and thus primped and primed, strolled out to the nearby "Bier Garden" to meet up with Nikki, a local sailor and ocean floor mapper Pete had met through couchsurfing.com. Over five hundred kinds of beer to choose from in the garden, and a full selection of schnitzel, and Pete and I are moving somewhat slow this morning.

Day 31 (feb. 4th)

Pete and Pete are in the town of Kilmarnock on Indian Creek for their first night in VIRGINA!!! They left Maryland at around 8 am (a sleep in/late start for them). When they started out it was grey and foggy. The sun broke through at around noon, and they set sail! They traveled at about 6.5-7 knots from noon till sunset! The wind relieved the engine of its duties and they felt the rush of being back on the water!

When they arrived in Kilmarnock they had burritos on the boat for dinner and played a game of cribbage with full bellies! Peter V. won the cribbage match by a long shot and Peter H. cried himself to sleep!!!! ; )

An update on their day to day living:

Pete and Pete sleep feet to feet... as their feet meet near the stern of the boat in a V. They do more talking together in bed in the morning when they wake up, because getting up seems to be the hardest part of the day but they have hot water bottles to keep them warm through the night!
They are very grateful for harbors that have left the bathrooms open, as they have realized that they can only go for about 2 days without a bathroom before they have to use the ol' "buck it and chuck it method". *(i'm sure you can go even longer without coffee now Pete and Pete)
The engine still has its quirks, but is doing much better!

They hope to reach Norfolk VA tomorrow, and they will officially start the inter-coastal trip!





From Peter Ver Ploeg:

With some variation, this is Pete's and my morning routine: Alarm goes off. Snooze. Snooze. Snooze. Wriggle out of sleeping bag and into cold. Grumble and groan loud enough to be sure other Pete is awake. Start water boiling. Pull clothes on. Pull rubber boots on. Clamber up out into the snow to pee over the side. Pump bilge. Back in the cabin, pull engine cover off. Check oil. Check fuel. Start motor. Check charts. Finish getting dressed. Clamber up out into the snow again. Cast off dock lines. Stow fenders. Get underway. Make tea. Drink tea. Burn tongue. Drink more tea. Dip the fingertips in tea. Feeling returns to fingertips.


Another inch of fresh snow was on the deck this morning. It was gray and foggy with almost no wind so we motored. The big excitement came when a motor yacht charged up on our stern and, in the middle of the Chesapeake without another boat in sight, passed twenty feet away from us at full speed. Even turning to take the waves on our port bow, the wake knocked everything to the floor. The only thing I can figure is that the boat was on autopilot and the owner was down below and never saw us.

By afternoon, most of the fog had cleared away, the wind had picked up and we were able to sail the rest of the distance to Kilmarnock. We didn't make it by sunset, and so sailed the last few miles in the dark, beating our way to windward up the narrow, dredged channel leading into Indian Creek. We had big pulled pork burritos for dinner. The marina is already starting to freeze over. Welcome to Virginia!

Day 30

From Peter Ver Ploeg:

Pete and I awoke this morning to find that whole of Annapolis Harbor had frozen overnight. The ice, though not as thick as further up the Severn River, was still pretty impressive for one night's freeze, and it took us a fair amount of time to maneuver our way out of the slip. Crunching along, we picked a path through the harbor out to the clear waters of the shipping lanes beyond.


It was a very calm, gray, and hazy day but we still managed several hours of slow sailing close hauled during the afternoon. Happy to be back on the water and underway proper.


We arrived in Solomons Island by dusk. Apparently one of the more popular Summer stops for cruisers on the Chesapeake, it is now silent and still and covered in snow. We tied up at an icy dock in an empty marina and headed in to town.

Pete and I grabbed a burger at the nearby Roy Rogers Restaurant, because it smelled to good to pass up, and then he headed back to the boat while I took a stroll around town. Now its snowing, big fluffy flakes, and in the morning we'll be frozen in again.

DAY 29 (part II)

From Peter Ver Ploeg:

I spent the morning taking one last crack at getting the motor going (just so I could say I had tried my best) and low and behold...SUCCESS! There was a tiny paint chip on the rubber gasket of the fuel filter that had been preventing a perfect seal. Suddenly, I love my little boat once more. We might still be stuck in the ice, but the motor is purring sweetly.



It was another beautiful, sunny day today and the bright afternoon sun was working its magic. By 3:00 p.m. the ice, though still solid enough to walk on, seemed slightly softer. A glimmer of hope elbowed its way in among the doubts and depression. Decision time. Make a break for it and risk getting stuck in the middle of the river or sit tight and risk another frigid night, thickening ice, and possibly being frozen in till Spring. We bid hasty farewell, jumped aboard and, amidst cheers and waving, slammed the throttle in reverse, blue smoke belching, ship shuddering.

After that didn't work, my uncle Tom came over and pushed from the pier while Pete and I took up stations on the stern rail. Using an oar and a big tree branch, we softened up the ice as best we could by punching holes in it all around the rudder like Swiss cheese. Slowly, very slowly, we backed out of the slip.

The motor is much stronger and the ship more streamlined going forward, but the old girl still couldn't quite do it on her own so Pete went forward to the bow to help out. Hanging down from the pulpit by his hands, he began smashing the ice in front of the boat with his feet. That did the trick.



Leaving the throttle on full, I lashed down the tiller and came forward to join him. This way we could take turns, one walking along taking a breather while the other hung and stomped. Even with two, this was physically exhausting. We had at least another hundred yards to go before we were out and into the slightly thinner ice. It was too slow and too tiring and, so, our technique evolved. Pete and I found that by pushing and pulling from the bow, we could rock the boat end to end. With the motor still pushing in the stern, the boat moved forward on the upswing and smashed through the ice on the downswing. As a kind of added bonus, when we pushed up, our feet spider-cracked the ice around us, making it easier for the boat to break it.


Then, our technique evolved once more to its final form. Both out on the ice in front of the boat, we began hopping along in a kind of rain dance procession, each holding on to the boat to guard against break through, chanting to keep time. The person in front cracked the ice. The person behind stomped small holes directly in front of the boat. Our combined weight made the weakened ice sag. Water gushed out of the holes adding further weight to sag and weaken the ice and cushion the hull. A perfect system. Of course, every so often we'd hit a thin spot or, the person in front would get a little overzealous in their cracking and then one or both of us would drop through to hang from the pulpit, feet dragging in the slushy, gushing, black hole beneath. We were both very quickly soaked to the waist but, it was a warm day and we were working hard.


Finally, with the sun down almost touching the tree tops, we broke through the last of the ice, heaved ourselves aboard, raced back to untie the tiller, and charged off down the Severn River to Annapolis.