Cruising on 4 Wheels

We left Kalunamoo in Trinidad on the first day of summer and flew to New York. Since then, we have chartered a Nissan and have been cruising on 4 wheels while putting over 2500 miles under the floorboards.

Our first 4-wheel cruise was to the south south-west about 600 miles. The weather was fair to squally, although visibility was good. We took the rhumb line course on the I-95 as far as Richmond then veered south toward the Cape Fear River. The run between Baltimore and Richmond was heavily travelled which necessitated a constant vigil of approaching, crossing, overtaking and out of command vehicles. Everything from small runabouts to mighty 18-wheel clippers occupied the same traffic lanes. Fortunately, separate inbound and outbound lanes are delegated to avoid head on situations. However, the lack of modern navigation in these vehicles cannot be excused. We have become accustomed to AIS to quickly communicate ours and other’s intentions. Our chartered Nissan relied on old style flashing lights and barely audible sound signals for this. I’m surprised they don’t still use flag signals. Believe it or not, other helmsmen behind their wheels even used individual finger signals to communicate their instructions. Since we were in constant cell tower range, we were able to use our chart plotter efficiently, although that female voice was sometimes confused and seemed to need to recalculate often. Most aids to navigation seemed to be missing although we never worried about shoals or bridge clearances.

Well, we made arrival by 1800, 12 hours after departure, and secured our vehicle in the designated parking area. Despite the threat of some strong squalls that was forecast, I was confident that the parking brake would hold.

We spent a week with Maureen’s family at Caswell Beach on Oak Island, NC. Had a great time and even visited some old friends from Brooklyn who migrated down there a few years ago. They are all land dwellers now, although I don’t hold that against them. The family took a boat tour of the Cape Fear River one evening and heard of the many movies filmed in the area (Cape Fear was not one of them). I was just fearful that the tour boat didn’t duplicate the bad fortune of Sir Richard Grenville who named the river Cape Fear when his ship became embayed there. Perhaps the only other passenger who knew this fact was a 3 year-old that couldn’t stop crying and screaming as soon as he embarked.

On our return trip north to New York we pulled into Sparks, Maryland on Gun Powder Road. Who says those who name places don’t have a sense of humor! We visited with cruisers Judy, Judie, and Ed that have also swallowed the anchor and, believe it or not, are quite content. The great crab cakes that Judie makes must be part of their secret.

Other trips were made to Essex on the Connecticut River and to Cape Cod. Bob and Brenda (PANDORA), are good cruising friends, we met years ago in Florida. Bob is also the president of the Salty Dawg Sailing Association. They invited us up for a few days while he held a rendezvous for cruisers in Essex. It was a good time to meet and greet those who have one foot ashore and the other on board. Our afternoon aboard PANDORA, in Hamburg Cove, was delightful, although I am not a big fan of swimming in salt free water. It’s a buoyancy thing.

Between these jaunts, we watched our grandkids’ ball games, hung out out on Long Island beaches with the family, had backyard gatherings, family birthdays, visited other friends and, in general, caught up with most of our shoreside relations. 

One week, I checked the weather window for the trip up to Cape Cod and it seemed ok. We booked the Nissan on the Orient Point ferry bound for New London. The early morning departure presented haze and light showers for the crossing. It was uneventful, no lashing and securing was needed. The gentle swell barely tested the parking brake. Heading up I-95, I eyed the gathering dark clouds ahead. Our speed over ground was substantial and I feared we would overtake the tumultuous tempest ahead. Alas, the cell phone sounded the alarm (almost like VHF 16), tornado warning (these are waterspouts on land)! I studied the possibilities and diverted our course and headed to the nearest protected “safe harbor”. Rains came, but no twister. Later we learned, it had touched down not far from where we were. In short order, we resumed our course up to Parkers Boat Yard and boarded their launch to ALLEGRO, lying on a mooring in the harbor.   

We reunited with Lee and Sharon (ALLEGRO), had lunch with them and with Nada and Polde (NADA) and eventually sailed over to Hadley Harbor. Dug for clams and had a wonderful few days aboard. We hope to see PANDORA and ALLEGRO again in November in the Caribbean.   

In between points of call, our time has been spent navigating various medical quays. After pre-arrival notifications, and clearing in with insurance and billing formalities, we joined the queue in their anterooms. We hoped that whatever adjustments we needed, the required repair parts would be in stock. In such cases, maintenance and repair on multiple personal body parts would need to be scheduled for later calls. Preventive procedures included checking blood and urine levels and values and assessing if any needed additives or adjustments were undertaken. We also submitted to X-ray, sonagrams, EKG’s and Cat scans to reveal any hidden defects and, we are happy to report, that as of this date none have been detected. Fortunately, none of these required berthing arrangements nor being put on the hard like a “fish out of water” for any considerable time. Departures were quick although many of the final written survey reports are yet to be received. 

Our final transit in late August was up to   New York’s Adirondack high peaks area of mountains and forests to see Melanie and Dave. It was an opportunity to wear long pants and jackets. Heavy foul weather gear was not needed nor was there any danger of the lakes freezing, so that was encouraging. This is the land where the indigenous people’s origin story describes how Skywoman descended from Skyworld. Sweet Grass, the Three Sisters and Mother Earth held major influences over them way before the “white man” arrived. One only wonders what Europe (and the U.S.) would be like today if these natives sailed east and imposed their lifestyle there instead of vis versa.

Well, we had a good visit with Melanie and Dave (even played Mexican Train Dominoes) as they meld a lifestyle of their own – far from the maddening urban crowd and toward Mother Earth’s sensibilities.

A few days later and a couple of hundred miles due south, we pulled into Atlantic City where we met up with Liz, John and two of our grand kids. This is the land diametrically opposed to where we just came from. The land is table-top flat, the tallest peaks are the sand barriers keeping the Atlantic Ocean off the boardwalk, and the main occupation is prospecting for gold in the obscure corners of dimly lit caverns of electro-mechanic machines with loud noises. Needless to say, we were unsuccessful as to the prospecting but had a good time with the family anyway.

The “rare” Blue Moon of August crossed the Skyworld yesterday as ancient folk lore mashed up with the astrodynamics of calculation, luminosity and position. It has been that sort of summer. Two months of land navigating the realities of life ashore compared to the ethereal voyaging at sea on the blue pearl, awakening us to the daily interactions of friends and family that are dearly missed. But I take note of a few lines in the Thanksgiving Address (Words That Come Before All Else) that Native Americans recite to give thanks. “So now let us bring together our minds as one and give thanks to each other as People”.

We will rejoin Kalunamoo next week as we resume voyaging on familiar waters. We give thanks to the sea that rocks us to sleep, the wind that propels us, the fish, animals and plants who graciously sacrifice themselves to provide our sustenance. And to those who we meet, we strive to find where “our minds are one.” It was a good summer.