How to use a Haulout, Maine-style I have figured out a better way to moor Juliet while we visit her in Maine. At low tide I observed the haulouts that locals use to keep their small boats off the beach along Eggemoggin Reach. A haulout is just an anchor below the lowtide line, with a line continuously looped through it to the shore. PVC pipe is used, tied to the anchor, so the line slides freely as you pull it to shore. A neighbor offered that Jennifer and I could use his haulout for the week we were there, so it made things easier given the enormous tides in Maine. When we wanted to sail, we unlashed the line from two metal posts above the high tide line, and pulled Juliet to us and the sandy beach, unlashed her from the haulout loop, and sailed away to Torrey Island. Upon return, we unrigged our Wayfarer dinghy on the beach, then tied the bowline onto to haulout, and then we could pull on one side of the loop, and Juliet would obediently drift out to the offshore anchor, and wait through the high and low tides. Anytime we want to sail, she is at reach.

WRAL Raleigh TV Story on McCotter's

Also Bath, Goose Creek Park, and Many Beachings

Several Power Boats in Trouble at McCotter's Marina

Some Boats Swamped By Hurricane Irene

My heart goes out to the folks who have lost their homes in Irene in NC, and I wish speedy recovery for the towns that suffered most in the storm. After retrieving Paul and Piper's boat Delphine from Broad Creek, I took a little Dinghy around to get a closer look at some of the powerboats damaged during the destruction of the boathouse at McCotter's.

Here, Equinox, a blue hulled beauty lies partially submerged at her slip. She may have been held down by docklines or debris, or possibly holed by a piling as she settled down, as happened to Mariana.





This unknown powerboat (name "I Got Mine"?)was floated onto the dock and is awkwardly perched above the water. I would like to know the names of any vessels that any readers recognise from the photos, I hope the owner is safe and sound.




Here A 29 foot powerboat, "Beautiful Day" appears to be whole with a shredded canopy, a minor miracle from the look of the boats around her. Smart or lucky captain, can't tell which, yet.



"Animal Lover" out of Peekskill, NY is sunk at the dock, perpendicular to the normal berth, doubtless floated over the dock and came down sideways, swamping in the process. She will need to be hauled and refitted, but that can't happen at McCotter's just yet, they must repair their boat lift dock.




Once you have the urge to go out, know that navigational markers may be damaged, moved or gone. This is Red "6" just in Broad Creek, giving an idea of the storm surge (although it was higher). At the end of the spoils section out in Pamlico River to the East, Marker Red "10" is missing completely.



Please let me know if your boat is featured, or if you have questions. Almost all of the boats on stands at McCotter's Marina are safe, I only saw one in the back yard that had moved. Different story at Captain Sam's Boat Yard next door, they have much lower elevation it turns out. Numerous, perhaps fifteen boats were on the ground there, including a giant cruiser in the road. I am in Carrboro, NC and took all photos on Monday August 29th.

Sea Licious Survives, Mariana Probably A Loss

>Many Boats Damaged as Hurricane Irene Roars Through Broad Creek



Two boats at McCotter's have captured my special interest, and I first want to let reader Julian, owner of SeaLicious, a Pearson 303, get a gander at his rig, which appears below.



Looks great Julian. You are a lucky sailor, since right next to your boat were so many wrecks I couldn't count them. Most of the boats that were in the remaining boathouse were lost or damaged, as you can see below. Pictured below is (I think) Happy Sails, a Columbia 24, and Caroline. Both were damaged, but not sunk. Also, behind Happy Sails is a San Juan 28 which lies buried under tin roofing from the former boathouse. Even further back is Athena, which stands completely upon the dock!



Mariana is a Sam Crocker "Amantha" Class Cutter belonging to Don Justin, who made the difficult journey to see his sailboat. I met him on shore, and ferried him out to his boat, which was inaccessible from shore. She had risen on the amazing 8-10 foot storm surge, and settled down, fatally, on a piling. Only this prevents her from sinking now. She once belonged to G. Gordon Liddy. Don peers into the cabin to retrieve a souvenir, an irreplaceable knife from his Navy service.




Hurricane Irene has probably put an end to this beautiful and historic boat. The loss of a boat is a sad thing, but not knowing could be worse. I hope I have helped to put a few minds to rest.



I have many photos of other boats, most have survived, some have not. I will be happy to provide photos to anyone requesting information. Washington, NC has restored electrical service to many areas, fuel seems to be available, and McCotter's is open. The lift dock is damaged and must be repaired before any boats can be launched, or pulled out to be inspected for damage. The small boat ramp is also blocked by debris. Let me know if I can be of assistance as recovery from Hurricane Irene continues.

Hurricane Irene Slams Marina

McCotter's Marina Damaged by Irene

Another Boathouse Gone

Once again, McCotter's Marina suffers losses, this time from the Category 1 Hurricane Irene. I only have local news reports to go by, and I will confirm this information when Paul and I return to retrieve Piper and Paul's boat from Broad Creek.

This photo seems to show the wreckage at the docks of the marina, east of Washington, NC




A combination of hurricane force gusts and storm surge likely caused this collapse, I doubt anything could have been done.

The storm surge on the western shores of Pamlico Sound was predicted to be massive as this map of risk indicates.


The red areas are in the Neuse River, and the Pamlico River near McCotters is the shaded in brown, indicating nearly as severe a risk of flooding.

With that in mind, Paul's family and I zipped down to McCotters to ensure the safety of their 29 foot Columbia, Delphine. Our strategy was to anchor her out in the creek, where she could ride over the storm surge. At dock, she would likely be damaged by surge and waves and it was too late to have her hauled out. She had been up on stands for the previous two years. Also the flood might float her off of any stands that the staff might set up.

Here she sits on stands in October.



Below, after Hurricane Irene has passed, a boat is stranded blocking the road; this sort of damage is the reason there is currently a curfew in Washington, NC.



In a photo also from the Washington Daily News, boats in slips ride out the storm while the docks are awash.



Finally, from the WDN, from the Washington waterfront is this well-anchored sailboat with a branch, riding safely on the Pamlico River.



With Luck, Delphine is fine, Piper and Paul actually used three anchors to secure her. If no trees or boats ran into the sailboat, then she will be as we left her on Thursday. The eyewall of Irene was around 25 mile from McCotter's Marina, so no one could be confident of complete protection. I'm sure the staff did all they could to protect their property and that of clients. I hate to see property damaged, but the most important thing in a dangerous situation is to protect life and limb, and once again, no lives were lost as McCotter's suffers their continuing bad luck.

Hobie Cat Graveyard

in Virginia Beach at 84th St.







Greetings! Back from another road trip, this time to Virginia Beach to visit my parents. Jennifer and I went for a walk on the beach to beach-comb after the massive nor'easter associated with Tropical Depression Ida in November. It lasted for days and destroyed bulkheads, houses, roads and beaches. It caused leaks at my folks beachfront house, but since they rent, the stress was low.

As we strolled toward Cape Henry, we watched cargo ships departing the Chesapeake Bay. On the way back, we strolled the strand line looking for things cast up by the tide. Here we found the Hobie Cat graveyard.

Hobie Cats are a common sight on the beach, and frequently become partially buried in the drifting sand over the winter, but these boats seemed mostly abandoned. Here, a red-hulled Hobie 16 actually has grass growing on top of the trampoline. A security-minded kayak owner is using the Hobie as a tie-down for his yellow craft.





This Hobie has been cannibalized for her trampoline, but I think the thiefs just wanted the metal, since the tramp fabric has been discarded between the hulls.



This Prindle seems intact save the rudder connector has been stolen, and the mast is missing. It seems like the missing mast could be a fatal problem.




Another Hobie 16 missing rudder parts and mast. It takes a real dirtbag to steal a mast for the money the metal would bring. It's no different than stealing an AC unit from a house, ruining a 2000 dollar unit for $40 worth of copper. It's kind of heartbreaking to see these boats left by trusting owners be stripped.




This yellow boat seems like the most beloved boat, with a complete set of parts, mast, lines, and a hula girl on the port hull. The owners should go sailing real soon.

Spring Sail to Bass Harbor

The great thing about Deer Isle is that it is within striking distance of so many very beautiful islands and harbors along the Maine coast. After fixing the spreaders, Jennifer and I talked about where we might go. I really thought Mt. Desert Island was within two, and maybe only one, nights range. I gathered up the various necessary components for the Wayfarer, such as the paddle, rudder, anchors, sails, tools and buckets. I also loaded the forward compartment with the sleeping bags and pads, extra water, and clothes. We packed a cooler with beverages and snacks, plus our standard shipboard fare, which was a big cold dish cooked the night before, in this case, sesame noodles.

We drove Mary's 1992 Toyota down to the shore with Juliet in tow. It is a very beautiful drive, though only a half mile.



At the Beach at Old Ferry Landing, I disconnected the trailer and wheeled it down the sandy beach to the water's edge and checked the plugs, then launched Juliet by hand. Then Jennifer helped me drag the Pamco trailer back up to the grass in Gerald and Jean's yard.

Gerald and Jean's Inn at Ferry Landing



We carried the sails and heavy gear down to the boat and rigged her up. We used low plastic tote boxes that slide under the seats for easy access. Maps and rain gear, snacks, sandals, the camera, and other day use items are best stored in these totes, and in Ziplocs if sensitive to moisture. Ziplocs are handy. The sails were raised, the rudder installed, we donned our life vests, and Jennifer boarded the sailboat first. The water was cold, and I was careful to give a little shove out and step over the transom, quickly pushing the rudder down and steering away from a known rocky bar at the ferry landing. Jennifer grabbed the mainsheet to power the Wayfarer forward. Then the wind and calm take over. I got out of the way and Jennifer took the helm. We headed south toward Brooklin and Swan's Island.

Minor repair for the Wayfarer

Raising and lowering the mast on the Wayfarer can cause a lot of wear-and-tear. Trailering her along bumpy frost-heaved Maine roads doesn't help the situation much. The mast and spreaders receive much of that abuse. Last year as I put Juliet away for the winter, one of the spreaders cracked and broke into two. I looked closely at the spreader, and resolved to bring the needed repair parts with me in the spring when Jennifer and I returned to Deer Isle. On our drive north from North Carolina, I collected a few things I thought might come in handy. First I stopped at Hamilton Marine in Searsport, Maine. I thought I would be able to just buy a spreader arm or set. I only found some Taylor brand boots to put over the spreaders. So on to the next stop, the hardware store in Bucksport. There I found 3/4 inch electrical conduit that seemed like it might be a good backup plan.

Juliet had waited all winter on Deer Isle, way down at the bottom of Mary's backyard. Usually we stash the boat around a bend in the trees but last year we tried putting her in the old boathouse at the bottom of the yard. I found the boat and trailer stuck axle deep in mud. Instead of struggling against the mud, I used a couple of old boards under the trailer wheels and Juliet followed along like an obedient puppy, all the way up the grass yard.



In the driveway I got another look at the broken spreader. Now, how to fix the damage? It seemed like Juliet needed another spreader, and the conduit was going to be it. I measured the length of the spreader, and cut a piece of conduit to match.

Then I realized that I really wanted a splint for the broken outside end of the spreader. I cut the replacement spreader down by about four inches, so that it would act as a sleeve. I flattened and drilled a hole through the mast end of the conduit to screw it to the mast brace. Below, I am smoothing the burrs of the sawn ends of the newly fabricated spreader. The broken original spreader is across the port gunwhale.





After I got a screw through the new piece, I slid the old broken spreader into the new, and taped it up to prevent the sail from contacting anything rough. It worked pretty well. I only spent a little on the parts, although I plan to order the new correct spreaders for the Wayfarer. I like working on the Wayfarer, because anyone can see what is wrong when something is broken, and then repair it with a little creativity, even on the water.

The Alcort Sailfish, My First Boat

Below is an old Instamatic photo of me and my stepbrother Harrison (hat) sailing our 1964 Alcort Sailfish in the summer of 1981. I often point out that my first car was a boat, and I think all children should have a chance to go boating. The shoreline is in the Chesapeake Bay, east of Lynnhaven Inlet. My stepdad Bobby got us this boat from somewhere, along with his whole quiver of other sailboats, such as Nacras, Hobies, and Sonars. We kept it on Chesapeake Beach from the time I was eleven till I was fourteen or so. Then we moved it onto the oceanfront of Virginia Beach.


A permit was required to keep it in VB, and mine read "58th-60th St Only." To sail her I would carry the sail spars, rudder, daggerboard and lifejacket down to the boat, untie it from the fence and then drag the whole boat down to the water's edge. Rigging the Sailfish was easy, and getting through the waves became second nature. As you can see, there is no cockpit at all, which let waves wash right over it. I would often sail out of sight of land, and at least once swam in the deepest, most remote water I could find, which was about three miles out and forty feet deep or so.
Eventually, I left Virginia Beach to attend Christchurch School in Saluda, Virginia. I took the Sailfish with me, and often sailed as part of the Christchurch Sailing Team in the Rappahannock River near the Chesapeake Bay. After I left to go to college, Bobby turned the boat over to a friend's son, and I moved on to other boats. I owe Bobby a huge debt of gratitude for introducing me to sailing.

Deer Isle Map from a postcard

We commonly use postcards and handouts from the Chamber of Commerce to navigate.

Homeward Bound on Deer Isle

Well, it has come time to wrap up circumnavigating Deer Isle in Maine. We were tired from two days of sailing, and the decision had been made to sail to the causeway at the very north end of the island. Mary's house where we keep our sailboat is only a quarter mile or so from the causeway. The winds were light and variable, which might have been frustrating if we had pushed on around Little Deer Isle. But I drank my last Ballantine and soldiered on, lightly sculling with the rudder.
Sometimes when the wind is very light, we will use our paddle briefly to gain some direction, and it does make the Wayfarer coast along for a few dozen feet, even when you only throw a few strokes in. It was like that this day. The coastline here on the NW side of Deer Isle looks very much like Acadia National Park, but with a bit more development.


I could write a whole post about the tides in Maine. You have to be careful with shorelines. If you beach the boat on a lowering tide, she can be stranded in just fifteen minutes. But I decided after talking it over with Jennifer that we could retrieve the trailer from Mary's house and load Juliet on the trailer by hand. After that, the boat would be left high and dry on the trailer. Then we would have most of the low tide through nightfall to figure out how to get Juliet and the trailer up the long sandy/gravelly beach. The causeway beach is the very first place you come to when you drive to the island, and there were a few vehicles and waders, sunbathers and children playing. We sailed straight up to the beach and jumped ashore with our "fun bag", which has a bunch of necessities for in or out of Juliet (the boat.) I threw a few totes and some gear on the beach. Then I tossed the lunch hook as far out as I could, so as to hold her of the gravel while I hiked for our car/trailer combination. This is how she looks at anchor on the Causeway Beach :
All that was left to do was get her out of the water and home. So Jennifer kicked back on the beach and took some pictures and sorted gear, and I jogged back to Mary's and retrieved the car/trailer. I unhooked the trailer and walked it down the beach to submerge it near Juliet. I slid a couple of long plywood strips under her wheels to keep them from miring in the sand. Then I pulled the anchor and centered her on the trailer and cranked her in. I rolled her and the trailer up the plywood planks and checked her as she sat for centeredness (new word?) The Wayfarer is a very light boat. A very nice man named Ed took interest in the whole operation and offered to help roll her up the beach. I said "I think I'll just tie a line to the car from where she sits and pull her from afar up the beach." He replied "I have my truck." "Man, I wouldn't drive my car down there." And he said "It'll probably be fine." So, he pulled his little 4X4 down to the waters edge and hooked me up, dragged Juliet up to our little wagon, and the boat was out for the winter. Jennifer and I had completely circumnavigated Deer Isle. It really seemed like a longer sail in concept than practice.

Carrboro Yacht Club

I've decided to start a yacht club. I can think of a few potential members. Paul Van Ness: you are in. Eric Chupp is in. Jason Hoey wants in, but he needs a boat. Jennifer is in. Runyon Woods is probably already a member of some yacht club (Beaufort?) My tattooed friend Eric has a 24 ft Columbia; he's in. I'm going to collect a few photos of local sailors and begin my club. Anyone who is interested in joining may let me know. A photo of you or your boat qualifies. I'll find some more sailors. My next post is going to concern boat maintenance, which is my weak spot. Till then, I'm Chris Marthinson.

I'm pretty much over the black widow

I'll get back to sailing real soon. I'm still trying to get the story of sailing around Deer Isle finished, but it takes awhile. I will say that my health care experience was very positive. It cost me less than $100 to visit my doctor and get the prescription for the Oxycodone and Valium. It helped that I let them know that I had a huge deductible that wasn't yet met.
Another friend, Eric, just bought a 24 foot Columbia that needs a bunch of work. He plans to clean it up and live/sail it. I wish him luck and cannot wait to see it. Maybe I can do some before and after pictures of his project. I'd love to get some feedback on what the readers like. Thanks for keeping up with my blog, and I hope to make more connections with sailors this way.

Day Two : Into Penobscot Bay

Off in the north, Stonington sparkled like a brightly painted city of the sea. Jennifer and I were easily able to stow our sleeping bags and tent into the front hold of the Wayfarer. The only other item is one emergency gallon of water that stays forward and out of the way. To launch Juliet, we simply rig the sails and rudder, and lightly step aboard, shoving off at the last second. Immediately, the wind takes over from momentum. We had a straight shot northwest to the Deer Isle Thoroughfare from Rock Island. There was one minor shoal along the route, which I could see beneath the waves, but it was no threat. We shared the coffee left in Thermos as we enjoyed the view. Nothing beats mornings in the boat. In the channel is an island with a house designed to look like a lighthouse. It is connected by a bar to Crotch, making the south passage unnavigable. However, it made a nice shortcut due to the north wind. Jennifer was at the ready for the centerboard and we slid over the bar with no draft to spare. Juliet (the Wayfarer) is good about finding her way through a tight squeeze. Jennifer looked around at all the industrial boats and equipment related to the Crotch Island Mine, which is still in operation. Billings Marine makes a handy stop for sailors and other boaters as one heads from Stonington toward Penobscot Bay. Shortly we left the protected Thoroughfare and headed into Penobscot Bay, intending to work our way up the west side of Deer Isle toward home waters.

Morning In Stonington Harbor

In the morning the boat was just fine, resting high on the sandy beach at the end of her anchor line.
Lucas' wife, Peg said that Lucas had to arise in the middle of the night to reset the tents and saw that my boat appeared to be riding her anchor just fine. He also reported being surprised that was the case because of the high winds and waves. Maybe he thought I was a landlubber, but I can set an anchor if need be. It was a beautiful morning and Jennifer slept in while I messed with the boat cleaning her out and schlepping gear around. Juliet had a few gallons of water in her; I don't know why. Breakfast was the coffee from the convenience store, yogurt and bananas. Lucas really slept in, because by the time we were ready to leave the beach, he was nowhere to be seen.

Rock Island and Rest for the Weary

Before Departing Deer Isle and Fisherman's Friend, I walked to the Harbor Mart for a few things. Top of the list: a Thermos of hot coffee; next, yogurt and bananas, plus a bag of pretzels and my all-time favorite convenience store purchase: Munchos. The late afternoon in Stonington left us with a few choices from the MITA book. Rock Island seemed the most obvious. I felt no rush, but a view of the harbor proves the sun was dropping fast.



To the east of Crotch Island lay little Rock Island. I'm pretty sure the name is a common island name in Maine, like Sheep, Long, Mark, and Harbor Islands. But it was there for us with a broad, sandy beach on her north side. The sun got away so fast that we were a bit disappointed to see numerous tents on the grassy shoreline, but nevermind. We had brought along a tent and sleeping bags and were not plannng on sleeping in the boat, as we has in trips to Castine, Vinalhaven and Bass Harbor. Lucas, a local lobsterman, greeted us as we hit the beach and asked if we needed help, but the beach was sandy and wide and we easily disembarked with our gear, glad to have decided on a final stop. I had really thought we were on a daysail, so I had made a silly error of not bringing Juliet's big Danforth, I only had the tiny lunch grappling hook. After the boat was cleaned ourt and we had all the gear, I looked at the beach and guessed it was wide enough for Juliet to anchor there for high tide (around 12:30 AM) and be afloat overnight. The grappling hook was buried in a hole in the middle of the beach and covered with an extra eight inches of sand above the natural grade. I washed off my hands and pretty well hoped for the best overnight. The lights of Stonington sparkled in the water.

Jericho Bay and Decisiontime

So we set off from Torrey not knowing our destination, but it seemed to me we could get out into Jericho Bay and look around for a while. Jennifer volunteered that she could eat a meal. Crackers and cheese, GORP, beer and screwdrivers were about our entire larder, so it had to be some kind of restaurant. Stonington would definitely put us out of range to get back to the old ferry landing, so decisiontime had come at 1:30 in the afternoon on Eggemoggin Reach. Above is the view across Jericho bay and Blue Hill Bay toward Mt. Desert Island.