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You are welcome to apply any part of this article to your own personal use. Please do NOT publish any part of the article or apply any part of it to any non-personal use without the express written concent of the author.
Kit being gone for the week at an in-residence watercolor class, I prepared for my singlehanded run southwards. To do this I staged Volant from Hampton on the north side of Hampton Roads to Willoughby Bay just opposite. It's a good-sized anchorage, maybe a mile or so square, with depths in the eight to ten foot (2½ to 3 meters) range. The guidebooks recommend rigging a trip line on the anchor as there have been reported some unseen obstructions that may make it difficult to weigh. A trip line is a line attached to the back end of the anchor at one end and a float at the other. If there's difficulty pulling the anchor up by its chain, the float can be used to pick up the trip line which can be used to pull the anchor out backwards.
However I've not heard of anyone needing a trip line in Willoughby Bay, and none of the boats anchored that evening or the prior evening when we anchored several months ago needed trip lines to retrieve their anchor. So I set ours without.
Anchoring singlehanded is a bit trickier. I have to be both at the helm and at the bow, virtually at the same time.
Here's the normal procedure for anchoring Volant singlehanded. By choosing a spot where I'm not quite so close to other boats I have time to drift without risk as I rush from bow to cockpit and back. Once at the anchoring spot I stop the boat with a quick shot of reverse. Rushing to the bow, I free the anchor from its chock, and prepare the windlass for running out the chain. As the boat is pushed back by the wind I lay the chain out slowly until the anchor just touches the bottom. Then I lay out a bit more chain such that the anchor lies on the bottom in perfect position to dig in. As we drift further back I run out as much chain as I calculate is required for a good set, about five times the distance from the bottom to the anchor chock [on Volant, that distance is the water depth plus about four feet]. This chain I lay out as fast as I can, not caring if it piles on top of itself as long as it doesn't pile up on top of the anchor. Locking the anchor chain in place when the proper length has been laid out, I then rush back to the cockpit and slip the engine into idle reverse. Again rushing forward I feel the chain with my foot to judge when the loose chain along the bottom has been finally stretched out and has taken up the strain on the anchor. I also watch the angle of the chain as a double check to insure I have enough run out. If all goes well and the anchor has begun to bite, I rush to the cockpit and increase engine revolutions so that the boat backs down hard. If we maintain position at that point I increase revs again for a final back-down to make sure that the hardest blow will fail to pull the anchor out of the bottom. And again I go forward. This (final) time I attach the anchor snubber.
Chain snubbers vary from boat to boat. On Volant it is a nineteen-foot (six meters) length of stretchy nylon rope with a chain hook at one end. The other end is attached to the deck near the mast. The chain hook, as implied by its name, hooks directly to the chain. The snubber can stretch to nearly double its length before breaking. I have enough length on ours that at its maximum it'll be stretching only about twenty percent. This arrangement takes up any shock that may cause the boat to jerk hard enough to jerk the anchor free.
At least that's the way anchoring singlehanded is supposed to work. It didn't go exactly that way the first time, as the anchor plowed through the soft muddy bottom. If the water were shallower, I probably could have planted potatoes in that furrow. I had to weigh anchor and try again.
This time I figured that the anchor wasn't going to hold at the final back-down, so I only increased revs and backed down enough to insure that it bit hard. And that was good enough for this anchorage in the expected wind conditions. If it were expected to blow harder I'd probably have to set out a second anchor, really quite a trick singlehanded.
Weighing anchor singlehanded is also a bit of a trick. Part of what makes it work is to choose a good anchoring spot to begin with. You want to be able to drift downwind without hitting anything hard (another boat, a rock, a wharf, etc.) once the anchor breaks out of the bottom, giving you time to bring it the rest of the way up and get it secured on deck.
What complicates weighing anchor is that the chain and anchor, having been lying on the bottom for some period of time, comes up carrying some sticky muck, grass, shells and other bottom stuff. The chain all needs to be cleaned before it runs down into the chain locker. Muck in the chain locker has a habit of plugging the locker's drain and, as biological material in the muck begins to decompose, creates a rather unpleasant smell in the cabin. The anchor also needs to be cleaned, and not just for the cosmetics. Dried muck can change the digging characteristics of the anchor and reduces its effectiveness. On Volant a washdown hose is attached at the bow for just this purpose. This allows for a stream of salt water to be played over the chain and anchor under some pressure, washing most of the muck onto the deck and over the sides.
I left Willoughby Bay at first light, heading by the Norfolk Naval Yard to the official start of the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). With the events of last month the Navy is requiring that all vessels keep a minimum of five hundred yards (half a kilometer) from all Navy ships without special permission to approach closer. There are dozens of them in the yard along the main shipping channel. Local marine and Navy patrols are quick to remind those who stray too close. I was taken to task once when I first entered the channel. I was angling to the far side of the channel instead of going directly to the far side and then turning. Those boys are serious about their security, and I don't blame them.
Once I got past Norfolk into the ICW, all was pretty straightforward. It was like driving along a toll road in a RV (recreational vehicle, or motor home) in moderate traffic. There weren't all that many toll plazas (bridges that had to be opened) and I could eat while driving, so I was able to make some pretty good time. As the ICW is a mixture of canals and wider rivers, I could wait for the wide spots when traffic was light for my bathroom breaks, letting Otto von Steerer, our autopilot, steer for those few minutes.
For Monday evening I found an anchorage along the ICW at a place called Buck Island, near Mile Marker 56.5, just before dark. [Distances on the ICW, for some strange reason, are measured in statute miles instead of nautical miles.]
For Tuesday it was another long haul, this time to a bay off the Pungo River at to Mile Marker 127.5.
Wednesday morning was thick afog, too thick to head out singlehanded. The weather prognosticators claimed that it would clear in the morning, and it did. So we departed just before 1000. It was not completely gone, but clear enough to see to the next marker and slightly beyond. By 1100 it was a beautiful day, the sky filled with puffy cumulus clouds. Pushing hard, we made it to Oriental, North Carolina, Mile Marker 181.5, just at sunset.
Oriental is an interesting town. It's small, only about 600 inhabitants. But it has just about everything a sailboat or sailor would want. Oriental bills itself as the sailing capital of the ICW, and could be right.
The town certainly welcomes sailors. If transportation is required, merely walk two blocks from the dinghy landing to a chandlery. If you say you're on a boat, they'll almost force you to take one of their free bicycles for a ride about town. And if you really need it they'll offer you their car for a few hours.
I had a chance to chat with crew from a couple of cruising sailboats, also at anchor. One couple had been here before and recommended a restaurant that served "Bar Burgers", four mini-burgers, each one the size of a silver dollar. They were delicious.
While I was minding my own business eating my Bar Burgers, one of the restaurant staff came by and forced me to take a ticket to a chamber music concert that evening (oh, but did my arm hurt from all that twisting!). It was a delightful concert on its own merit. But the special treat was chatting with an interesting local couple at intermission, sailors Lynn and Don. They were kind enough to offer their help in any way I might need, from driving to laundry. I really felt welcomed in Oriental.
Yesterday, Saturday, was a quick run up the Neuse River to New Bern, North Carolina. Kit will be returning to Volant today. We'll be exploring the town together for a few days, then heading back down the Neuss to the ICW and points south.
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