TWO HEARTED and IAZ P

This is going to be a brief post, but it is very important that I prequel the upcoming week with exciting new developments here at Amateur Style!

Goat Island Skiff I Am Zinea, Pterodactylus now has a fellow partner in somewhat-high-seas shenanigans!  I present Capn Jons meticulous and spectacular Two Hearted, a Ross Lillistone Pheonix III.

HUZZAH!

HUZZAH!

Two Legends and Capn Jon-- cool guy who doesnt look at explosions

HUZZAH I say!

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Little Chebeague and Fort Gorges

AHOY

Last week I was in need of escape to spend some time on the water.  With just a two days off I quickly loaded the boat and got myself back to the clear waters of Casco Bay for a short and dirty one-night jaunt.  First time the Goat Island Skiff has been in Casco Bay since 2010!  Initially I had planned on going out to my favorite little island, Bangs, scene of many an adventure in IAZ,P, but when I landed on the clear sandy beach of Little Chebeague I was hard pressed to find a reason to continue onwards.

Not only did the nice beach attract me to Little Chebeague, but I saw this little piece of awesome anchored.  Note clear water.

Sweet lines

This is an Atkins XLNC, white cedar on white oak frames.  Please check out the Atkin & Co. page for XLNC here.  You will notice that in the pictures, this boat if featured.  XLNC was also featured in the 2012 Small Boats by Wooden Boat Magazine.  She is powered by a Palmer Model #27 complete with required Pabst Blue Ribbon beer can on the exhaust manifold to prevent water from dripping into the carburator.  This is called Yankee ingenuity and if you are rolling your eyes you are not from New England.

The boat is currently under the care of Bill and Jennifer who were enjoying a week cruising the Maine coast from their summer retreat.  With a setting sun and a falling tide Bill and Jennifer shoved off for home.  For all of 100 yards the boat made cute chugging noises as its bow seamlessly split the water, and then some engine fiddling was required.  Engine fiddling is a very important part of maritime experiences.  If you are not fiddling with the engine, something is wrong.

"This beer can is a fine solution"

After Bill and Jennifer left I set up camp as the tide continued to drop, stranding IAZ,P for the night.  I was alone on the island, on a beach, watching the sun set and the ferries go by.

Im pretty sure this is the same ferry that almost ran me down during VisionQuest/ManQuest2010 at this very spot!

My evening was spent in quiet reflection as I enjoyed lheure bleue  some rice, carrots, and hummus, and a swig or two of rum.  There was no wind, just the gentle lapping of water on the beach and the kaleidoscope of stars and Milky Way spinning slowly overhead.

As I was snugged down in my sleeping bag an ugly plastic motorboat showed up  and disgorged several 20-something guys.  Their self-importance was reflected in their constant braying, bottle rockets, frenetic music selections, and general indulgence in noise which totally shattered any optimistic feelings I was having about the world and humanity.  We truly are a pathetic and primitive creature, afraid of the dark and the silence that accompanies it, always insistent to fill the few sacred times with the profanity of our repugnant self-worship.

The next morning I was awakened by a hot needle boring into my nose into my brain.  I swatted at my nose to find a red ant at the tip of it.  Wake-up calls from red ants biting my nose does not figure high on my pleasure list.  I couldnt stop the tears streaming from my left eye.  I was awake, before the dawn, but her rosy red fingers were already streaming over the coast of Maine.

I had a little bit of a breeze from the northwest.  Since it was supposed to shift to the south later in the day, I supposed a period of calm would fall between the two.  A high pressure dominated.  Even though the ebb had begun and I would be fighting all of western Casco Bay to get back to South Portland I decided to shove off and use the wind while I had it.

It turned into a frustrating sail with the current against me, I made barely sufficient headway.  Time to strategize.

Little Chebeague is (A).  Fort Gorges is (D).  Bug Light Park is southwest of the fort, and that is where my vehicle and trailer are.

Purple = wind
Red = nasty currents
Blue = heroic path of jaunty skiff (approx)

Leaving Little Chebeague I usually go west of Diamond Island (marked McKinley Estates) into the broads of Casco Bay.  However, the ebb was on, and the flow was pushing out to the Atlantic (east-southeast of the island group-- to the right on this map). This made getting around Diamond difficult, since the current is rather forceful around the northern tip.  With the wind from the west, I made a gamble, and decided to allow myself to get pulled into Hussey Sound (B).  My hunch was that I would get pushed towards Peaks Island.  The channel on the northwest side of Peaks would also have a strong flow against me, but I hypothesized the westerly wind would be compressed between the islands, like a venturi.  This would give me the thrust needed to overcome the current and get halfway down Peaks Island to (C), where the flow would be reversed in the other direction.

I sped through Hussey Sound (B) worked my way towards the gap between Diamond and Peaks and sure enough, the wind velocity was much higher!  I had a spirited sail through the gap, keeping to the southeast side where the current was least and the wind highest.  I made it to (C) and the current reversed and the wind died, but now at least I was being pushed to my destination.  I was elated!  My strategy worked.  On the backside of Peaks I broke out the oars to row towards Portland harbor and the breeze that awaited me there.

Mastermind

About this point a very nice couple in a powerboat swung by and asked if I was OK.  I affirmed I was. They asked if I wanted a tow.  I politely declined.  They asked again, as if I was a bit muddled-- I was rowing and I didnt have an engine after all-- and I declined once more.  They sped off and I rowed on.

I made landfall at Fort Gorges on the beach.

Fort Gorges is a pretty sweet place.  First, its a bad-ass fort.  Second, its publicly owned which means we, as citizens, can enjoy nice things together for enjoyable picnics and family outings.  Third, its a thumb in the eye our litigious society.  Its a fort.  There are dark places.  There are high places.  There is water!  In short, I love Fort Gorges.

Entry way.  Two massive doors.  Arrow slit windows to gun down the invaders.

Walking into the fort.

Entry way is on the left.  Powder Magazines are straight ahead, the giant wall in the shade

 I explored the officer quarters, which had nice plaster and blue paint on the walls, and then walked up to the third sod-covered roof level where bigger guns were to be placed.  This is a place to wear shoes FYI, there are lots of rusty bolts from the gun placements.  The dark areas and powder magazines are pitch black nighttime dark, so bring a flashlight if you want to go in them.  And bring a friend.  Spooky abounds.  This fort is massive by the way.  Everything about it screams indestructible.

I went up to the third floor to find the 300 pounder rifled Parrott gun that was hoisted aloft but never mounted.  Interestingly, it is on the northwest corner of the fort, with a great view towards the city of Portland as opposed to a southwest corner which would offer a better view out to sea...

Note rifling and beer cans.  This is one of those pictures that you take with a hand that is quickly removed from dark tube lest the beasties eat your fingers off.

Some scale.  I am a size 13 foot.  Note "U S" stamped on metal.  This is genuine US Military Grade weapons technology for the taking!

I spent some time wallowing in the sun and the nice water on Fort Gorges, and then I made a short leisurely sail back to my trailer.

On the way back, I got passed by the legendary "Free Candy go-for-it-this-guy-seems-legit Van" which we Capn Jon and I saw back during the Portland Boatbuilder Show this spring.  It was moored off Long Island that morning.

Fenders down and everything.

Until next time Intrepid Readers!  (exciting episode in the works for next week!)

 I love summer.

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BLING BLING

I figure it is time to put a face on my Goat Island Skiff.  Today my lovely wife and myself went for a spirited sail on Squam Lake.  I was expected 8kt winds and a leisurely sail and some swimming, instead it was blowing 15 and we did a grand tour of the western side of the lake at high speeds and shipped some water and almost capsized and my wife had fun.

As you will notice, I made some adjustments to the cosmetics of the boat.  Thats right mofos, I dress this girl up, yes I did! (Thanks to CLC and the vinyl sticker department, and a coworker who helped me photoshop the badass FLYING DINOSAUR!!! (fyi Pterodacylus are not dinosaurs, they are pterosaurs)

OOOOOOOH IT IS SO BAD!

Please note "FrankenBoom!"

Additionally, I also added another block of purchase on the downhaul to improve close-hauled performance in higher winds and I dare say it worked!

I added a fiddle block from C+S at Duckworks and moved the becket block to the bottom.  Combined with super burly FrankenBoom, I am Zinea, Pterodactylus is coming into her own!  What took me so damn long!?  (oh wait, money, um, impatience, and a laissez faire attitude (aka lazy)

No camping trips so far, only day trips sailing, but things are in the works, so as always, stay tuned intrepid reader and keep the rum at the ready!

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BroVenture2011! Day 1 and Day 2

Ahoy Intrepid Readers!

This post is going to be a departure from the usual postings at GIS Amateur Style, because:  1. It is not about my Goat Island Skiff or about another Storer boat, 2. It includes guest commentary as in, my very own brother L, who will add his perspective and wit to BroVenture2011!


BroVenture2011 is similar to VisionQuest/ManQuest2010 which is detailed here (my version) and here, except that it is not a 4 day quest in my Goat but a 4 day cruise in my brothers boat, the legendary Aquarius 23.  I say legendary because people now like to make them into cheap motor boat conversions.

I AM GOING TO BE A LEGEND SOME DAY, I HOPE

A little background:  My brother got his boat for free.  It included a new 8hp Mercury outboard ("The MVP of the trip!" according to L), gas tanks, stereo, coolers, new cushions, anchors, fishing gear, foulies, and numerous other odds and ends that make a sailboat a cruising vessel.  Dont ask how he scored such a boat with equipment for free, just accept that he can make things like this happen and you probably cant.

Anyway, my brother and I are adventurers, and Vikings.  We like salt water, we like sailing, and we like doing things our own way and we needed to go on a trip together.  Hes had this boat for years, lived on it, etc. and we never sailed together.  Time for that to end.  We planned a four day cruise in our homewaters of the mighty and great Connecticut River to "the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound" (Fitzgerald).  Destination... well, we dreamed of Block Island.

Day 1 Essex to Niantic Bay:  RAIN.  It RAINED.  It rained all day.  We got the boat set up, in the rain.  My brother when he installed the roller furling system several weeks prior installed it backwards with the drum facing forward.  The jib halyard went up the mast.  I stuck L into a bosuns chair and hauled him skyward in the rain on a line of dubious quality so we could rig the jib.  No pictures, it was RAINING.  Everything got wet.  Nothing was going to dry.  We went home twice to dry out and eat soup.  Finally, we left harbor and headed down the Connecticut River southbound to the waters of our youth, our Long Island Sound!

Long Island Sound with less than optimal weather...

My brother the Skipper at the helm in his new rain jacket, the $0.60 poncho!  Note poncho as day goes on...also note our tender to get from anchorage to shore! (being towed) 

Lynde Point Light (1838), 65 tall flanking the northern end of the channel leaving the CT River

Saybrook Breakwater Light (1886) 50, famous and on the license plates on the southern end of the channel. Her blinking green light will see us over the far horizon, good-bye beautiful and mighty CT River, you are ended here.

Once out of the Connecticut River we sailed eastward.  We didnt really have a plan, I guess Block Island would have been ideal but with the late start and the scheming weather maybe it wasnt the greatest of ideas.  Regardless, we sailed east!

The wind picked up and soon we were making good speed and time.  Thunderstorms boomed behind us and ahead of us, yet we successfully dodged the worst of it (or they dodged us) and we luckily did not get embroiled with something we couldnt hack.

Ponch isnt looking happy

Wind is up and boat is heeled over!  Notice spacious accommodations and beefy muscle mascot!  Goat Island Skiff doesnt have cozy bunks!   

The weather behind us

Here is some movie glory for you Intrepid Readers!

Right about this time, I decided to go below to rummage and stow some loose gear, when I hear a FWAPFWAP and a "OH NO" from my brother.  I rush topsides thinking hes over the side only to see him looking back at the chart book floating on the surface of the waves.  Its waterproof, so we arent worried about it getting ruined-- I swing the boat around and we make haste to recover the book (we need charts so we dont hit one of the hundreds of reefs in Long Island, Block Island, and Fisher Island Sounds) when the book literally just disappears.  In an instant we learned that waterproof chart book also meant non-floating chart book and in but a blink, Long Island Sound became quite larger, the sun was that much closer to the horizon, the anchorage was that much further away, and we were without a chart back-up.

In a fit of fury over the chart loss, the poncho gets what it had coming to it.

Feeling free from clammy poncho and musing on the idea that liberation is impossible when charted, L reflects on what an Electric Blue Sunset means...

 The night fell fast, and while we were almost at The Race (read the second sentence of this entry) we decided that without a chart, continuing on to Block Island in the dark was foolhardy and unwise.  Somehow, and someway, we two brothers made an intelligent decision.  L pointed the boat back to Niantic Bay in CT, where we were certain we could snag a mooring for a few hours and get some shut eye and wait for the sun to reappear on the morrow.  This passed as expected, and Day 1 was complete.

Ls Commentary on Day 1! 

My sailboat, sometimes and appropriately called "Blow Me" for this season, was perfectly set up for leisure, not so much for sailing.  To be prepared for Broventure 2011, it needed some work - jib raised, rudder fixed, sheets set up, etc.  All of this was done in a stormy downpour.  I was hoisted up the mast for some roller furling work.  This was a first for me on my boat and I felt with every sway of the boat I was about to break my mast at the step.

We didnt have great wind once we hit the sound, but we still managed to make it a good ways towards Orient Point, before we decided on actually making a plan.  But those plans were hampered by the chart blowing overboard.  The good news was the clearing weather, especially because my 99 cent poncho had slowly shredded into nothingness.  We pirated our first mooring in Niantic Bay, late - the only reason I knew it was there was because I had stayed on it once before when my motor failed and the winds died.  

Day 2 Niantic Bay to Watch Hill/Napatree Point, RI:  I awoke early to find a gloriously sunny day and a stiff breeze out of the north.  Without wasting a moment I decided to get underway even though my brother was still asleep in the V-berth.  Why wake the Skipper when I can easily sail this boat off the mooring myself?  We were just a few yards from some other boat that looked expensive, so I attempted to start the Mercury as a back up if needed.  This didnt happen, my brother apparently is the outboard whisperer.  Regardless, after some chiding from the V-berth (I woke him up) I had slipped our lines and we were eastbound!

L at the helm as we blast out of Niantic Bay

Off of Groton, we ran into the Silent Service:

Spooky and large she came from nowhere.  Pretty damn cool.  One ass (probably from NY) tried to race the sub and was quickly subdued by the Coast Gaurd.  MorAN!

Our quest that day was to get a new chart, since our debacle the day before left us with no chart.  One option was to head to Noank, a little village between Groton and Mystic.  Noank had a few marinas, and also it had a clam shack.

Noank

Noank Harbor

In Noank we did indeed find another waterproof-non-floating chart which I purchased.  Then we had some huge hamburgers that we literally inhaled.  This left us feeling quite stuffed and stupid, so we motor sailed out of Noank and decided to head for Watch Hill, RI.

Inspecting the new chart and realizing that only by sheer luck did we not manage to impale ourselves on numerous reefs!

Our destination ended up being the anchorage behind Napatree Point near Watch Hill, RI.  I have often seen this anchorage while flying in the area and always wanted to go there-- now was my big chance!  This place did not disappoint.  At all.  Holy Balls it was amazing.  The anchorage was superb (to the horror of my brother I deftly sailed us through the mooring field and pricey boats to the mooring ball where we sat temporarily before we anchored-- I dont mess around with cheating outboards, I do it like the Vikings did it.  My brother is now emboldened to emulate his ancestors, this is what big brothers are supposed to do, inspire the younger ones).

I missed the glorious lighting of the place so one picture is not mine:

Watch Hill from our anchorage note dinghy

Our Intrepid Vessel at anchor

Watch Hill Cove from the bluff

Napatree Point from the bluff-- one of the most glorious beaches I have ever been to, ever, anywhere, anyplace.

 Because the lighting was less than optimal Im going to assist your minds eye.  This is not my picture I took it from Stonington Rotarys webpage. http://www.stoningtonsrotary.org/news.htm

Yes, it really looks like this!  HOLY SHAMOLEY

EPIC BEACH.  The sand was amazing.  The water was crystal clear.  And best of all (LISTEN UP NORTHERN NEW ENGLAND) the water temperature was 74 DEG. F  (23 C).  Im moving.

After investigating the beach, the town, and some other stuff, we retired to the boat to whip up some dinner. L made pasta with tuna and sauce and we drank beer and watched the earth spin our side of the globe away from the sun.

Make me dinner!

The Skipper enjoying the fruits of his labor.

Ls Commentary on Day 2!

 The next day I awoke to Christophe The Mad Sailor, raising sails and attempting to sail off the mooring, which he did well, but the sound of him strangling my outboard trying to get it on woke me.  His words: "I wanted to wake you by rolling you out of bed!"  I was groggy, in part because the mooring we were on used my boat as a sparring partner all night.  If only I had known what to do with that small mizzen sail I had aboard.  But that came later. We had some serious wind cutting across to Mystic, good enough that my one martini glass broke free and smashed across the cabin like it was thrown by an angry housewife.  After a chart purchase and a half lb burger at Costellos, we cut into the channel leading behind Napatree Point, where Christophe adjusted the jib sheets and showed me how much better it was by sailing the entire channel to

another pirated mooring.  Nice.  

The harbor was beautiful, and we ended up 

anchored just off the beach. 

My windsurfing board served as our humble tender, 

but we engineered a system for us to take turns paddling it to shore.  We had a 

Laurent food specialty for dinner - the bowl of food; if you need to ask whats 

in it, you aint ready. Night was spent with sunset gazing, still waters, quality 

beers and a cigar.  Win!

Stay tuned for days 3 and 4!!!

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BroVenture2011! Day 3 and 4!

Ahoy Intrepid Readers!  We continue now on our epic Long Island Sound journey (well, there are more sounds, like Fishers and Block, but really, is there any other Sound like Long Island Sound!?  No.) as we return to our homeport in the Connecticut River!

To the startled reader, see the previous post for an explanation, this is a departure from my normal Goat Island Skiff adventures.

Day 3 Watch Hill/Napatree Point to Old Lyme:  This day dawned clear and bright, and we brothers arose to a beautiful beach, beautiful weather, and our beautiful selves.  I took our dinghy and paddled into shore to get egg sandwiches at the local coffee shop.  Note to reader, the coffee shop offers egg sandwiches that are unceremoniously microwaved and the coffee is better ordered as just coffee, because if you add cream and sugar, they will put so much syrup youll doubt there is any coffee in the cup at all.

Windsurfer board?  Check.

Extra long canoe paddle?  Check.

Stand-Up Paddleboard?  Not really, but Check.

El Skippero (Mexican) chilling out.  

After a swim and a run on the epic beach illustrated in the previous post we decided to haul anchor and head Westbound.  Since the tide was high, we decided to be manly, and make a run across the dangerous shallow shoals that are festooned on the chart with things like "submerged pipes" and "rocks" and lots of shallow areas.

The Skipper had a hunch to hug a line of red buoys that headed out, this would have made sense in any kind of maritime setting since they would have been on our port side, but I was led astray by other boaters who were cutting across the nefarious shallows further inland.  I mused that the red markers (which were not official navigational aids, or marked on chart) were marking out a danger area instead.  My little brother listened to me for what must be the second time in his entire life and acting as Skipper, L made his own decision attempt the shallows closer inland than Napatree Point.

We ran aground, because I was wrong.  My little brother will never again listen to me.

When we ran aground, I jumped overboard and came up to my waist.  So yes, we really were aground.  L started to plot furiously his escape, as we were losing time and tide.  I started getting line ready to haul up his damnable centerboard which was stuck in the down position, rendering his shoal draft boat useless as such, we might as well been a fixed keel.  As I prepared the lines, L took advantage of a gentle swell and gunned it!  Dragging centerboard across the sand, hitting obstacles along the bottom, and caring for nothing save not having to call Sea-Tow to come save us, we made it to the channel that was conveniently marked by the red buoys that headed out to sea!  Relief!  

The winds were light.  After a short stint of attempting to spearfish, which included a philosophical argument on what direction a speargun should be pointed, we set sail for home.

Island Packet "Winters Haven"

Island Packet "Winters Haven"  Note cool person.

Watching "Winters Haven" burn us.

The wind is picking up and were beginning to start moving now!

About right after this above picture was taken, many things happened at once.  We started really moving, with the leeward rail in the water and L and I up on the windward rail like a real racing boat!  At this point, I realized we had 40 lbs of unsecured anchor and chain on the forward deck!  I made my way forward just as those 40 lbs of nefarious metal slid overboard and over a hundred feet of scope unwound in dangerous "Deadliest Catch" fashion!  OH NO!  I could only imagine the destruction if the anchor caught on the bottom while we were moving at 5 knots in the opposite direction!  Needless to say, I saved the day.

The Skipper L pleased that I saved his boat from mishap.

Hero.  Note anchor now securely attached.

After saving the day, I decided to hang off a shroud, and promptly pulled it free.  That was another few minutes of drama, lemme tell you, but thanks to my ever-present box of tools I was able to fix it quick, cause Im a hero.  Then I made dinner.  Beans.

Making dinner #1 underway.

Sailing into the sunset.

This time, with our new chart, we successfully navigated around several reefs and found a mooring off of Old Lyme for the night.  This was a good thing, because it was dark and we dont have running lights.

We made dinner #2.

L says: Day 3

We motored out of Napatree Point and promptly ran aground.  We were attempting to follow an unoffical "cheat" channel, passable at high tide, but Christophe thought boats had been taking another route, which I foolishly followed, rejecting my gut instinct.  I got us out by gunning the outboard and powering the keel through the sand and shallows... and totally redeemed myself!  We dropped the hook off Napatree beach looking to do some spearfishing, but the current was ripping and the spot was too exposed (though visibility was clear), and the shipmates had differing views over speargun safety, so we looked at cool Christmas light jellyfish instead.  We headed back into Fishers Island Sound, where the wind suddenly picked up and we had a strong reach that we rode all the way to Old Lyme - a good few hours of straight sailing.  At one point, with the boat deeply heeled, Christophe leaned on a windward shroud and it snapped, almost dropping him overboard.  Good thing the other shroud stayed put, or I would have been practicing rescue sailing maneuvers.  We pirated another mooring (3 for the trip) and we learned how to use the anchor sail, though it did not prevent a boat-rolling sleep session.

Day 4 Old Lyme to Essex:  The next morning we awoke to heavy swells and queezy stomachs.  L, who has everything in his boat, found an anchor riding sail so fortunately we were pointed in the wind.  Now, the funny thing is that he didnt know what it was.  I had expressed the desire to have one so we could stay pointed in the wind and not rub against the mooring ball (THUMP THUMP THUMP all night).  L asked, "Is it small and triangular?" I answered in the affirmative.  "I have one of those."  Again, Ls magical-free-boat that came stocked with everything had an anchor riding sail that I have ever only seen in catalogs like the above link!

I cant express to you how useful this thing is.

After deciding to not really eat breakfast, we cast off the anchor and headed home to the beautiful Connecticut River.  The wind was fair but from the west, so we motored to the river mouth and then raised sail to glide northbound like Vikings of old raiding upstream villages!

The lighthouses welcome us and many other sea-weary sailors home.

173 years old and still a functioning navigation device.  This is called a durable technology.

Spanning the Connecticut River at its mouth are two bridges, the Old Lyme RR Drawbridge, and the "new" Baldwin Bridge carrying I-95.  The drawbridge operator works closely with the trains (namely Amtrak) and boaters to get people through.  He actually had a gap of "about a minute" and opened the bridge to sneak through some boats between two trains.  This guy was good.  It was pretty awesome.  We waited for a longer opening time, I didnt want to be responsible for a train wreck.

Now, I think if the winds are favorable, a sailor should be sailing.  So we were going to sail through these bridges, dammit!  Vikings didnt putt-putt under RR bridges!

Approaching the bridge, full speed ahead!

Sailing under the span!  We made it!

HAHA!  Success!  Pillaging ahead!

Nefarious I-95 is carried by the Baldwin Bridge.  Well sail under this one too.

More clearance on this one.

Its like the Hall of the Dwarf Kings.

Essex in View! Oh the Joy!
(Intrepid Reader who identifies which historical figure Im ripping off gets free GISamateur parking)

Nuff said.

And suddenly, just like that, we were home.  It was a fun 4 days.  If I could do it again, Id tow the Goat Island Skiff behind the boat so I could some small boat sailing and keep these posts at least a little more relevant to its title.  That, and there would have been some good sailing around Napatree Point, and to be honest, I miss my little handsome boat.

Otherwise, great adventure all around, some good stories, and some good weather.  Sure beat 4 days being a Landlubber!  Oh how I pity you landlubbers.

Until next time Intrepid Reader!

L says: Day 4

We reached the Connecticut river and began motor-sailing north, which against the ebb tide meant barely making progress.  The wind picked up near the bridge, and we took advantage by jibing in circles around the other boats that were patiently waiting.  As the bridge rose we sailed through, and were soon back at Essex dock.  The finale of the trip was anchoring my boat in Booty Cove (note: secret spot, not charted.. I will say that I am anchored between a bald eagles nest and a hobo camp).  There was an old man crabbing that tried explaining to Christophe that an osprey flying overhead was actually an eagle.  We whalered back to shore, the boat safe and sound and us with only minor dehydration and sunburn!  BroVenture 1 - Tragic Outcome 0

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