Wednesday, November 28, 2012

We'll Cross That Bridge.....

Happy Holidays from Let's Dance! The final voyage of 2012 is a wrap and we now have over 11,000 nautical miles under our combined life belts. Almost three years aboard Let's Dance and we have seen some sights and had some fun. We've added a few more items to the list of TWL's, too.

We have learned, for example, that anchoring after dark has its perils. One night, on our way north, we ran late and had to anchor in the dark at a nice, familiar anchorage near Solomons, MD. Finding just the right spot was a bit tricky, but we settled in finally. At first light, after a lovely, calm night, Bill went out on deck to discover this shore sign just off our starboard bow: "Warning: Submerged High Voltage Cable. Do Not Anchor." Well, really! If they feel so strongly about not anchoring, they should light their silly sign! Although, I suppose that we could have lit up the area pretty well had we snagged the underwater cable!

This fall semester, however, in the lessons of Let's Dance, our major was 'Bridge Theory and Practice.' It turns out that there are all sorts of bridges in this world....lift bridges, pontoon bridges, swing bridges, bascule bridges, and of course, railroad bridges. Every bridge has a bridge tender and there are all sorts of bridge tenders, too....some friendly, some cranky, some fast, some pokey. On the 53 mile stretch of intracoastal water between Coinjock, NC and Norfolk, VA there are seven bridges, seven bridge tenders and one lock. (Locks don't have actual tenders; they have "attendants.") Some bridges open only on the hour, some only on the half hour, some both, some only on demand, some only in conjunction with the one before or after. It's exhausting just to contemplate the potential combinations.




A course in Marine Mathematics would be useful to accurately time the series of low bridge openings to be navigated in one day. On "The Day of the Bridges", we started our calculations early, creating a detailed chart that included bridge name, opening times, mile marker on the ICW, distance between bridges, speed of Let's Dance, current, tide, etc., etc.

If you hit the North Landing Bridge (not literally, of course) at 12 noon, you can make the Centerville Turnpike Bridge opening at 1300 hours. The Norfolk Southern Railroad Bridge is usually open at mile 13.9, so if you keep your speed you can make the top of the hour opening for the Great Bridge. Whew! This bridge is timed to coordinate with the Great Bridge Lock, so there's a short breather before you head back into the swim. At 6.3 knots, Let's Dance can cover the 3.1 statute miles between the Steel Bridge and the Gilmerton Lift Bridge for its last opening on the half hour before closing for rush hour. With dogged persistence and a calculator, we made all bridge openings with only a few short waits and no frayed tempers.

Because Hurricane Sandy churned up the Atlantic Ocean on her rampage north, we were unable to make our return voyage outside the ICW (much to Captain Bill's chagrin.) So, you guessed it -- our trip home included the dreaded bridges in reverse order. With our "Day of the Bridges" chart in hand, a calculator and a good dose of patience, we get an early start out of Norfolk.

At the first obstacle, the Gilmerton Lift Bridge, we encounter a fleet of boats milling about in anticipation of the 0830 opening. It is 0815 hours. There is radio chatter among the group indicating that the bridge did not make its 0730 opening. Hmmmm. A railroad bridge directly beyond the Gilmerton Lift Bridge (normally left in the "up" position) appears to be stuck down, and without it going up, the Gilmerton has no reason to open -- no one can pass in either direction. Boaters are pretty laid back, but tempers are warming as the 22 would-be southbound boats zig and zag to stay clear of each other. Idle forward, idle reverse, bump to port, bump to starboard.....there are only so many configurations and figure eights that these boats, from 20 to over 80 feet in length, can execute and still remain cool. More radio chatter, and the harried bridge tender finally reveals that apparently the railroad bridge has been the victim of an act of sabotage! Some sneaky thief has ripped out a patch of copper wiring rendering the lift mechanism impotent.

We consider bailing back to Norfolk, but decide to linger for a bit longer to watch the show and soon are rewarded with the happy news that the railroad bridge mechanism has been repaired and the Gilmerton will be lifted shortly. The relieved bridge tender requests all boats to come closer, double up if necessary and be ready to proceed under the bridge as soon as she raises it. We are at the back of the pack. We oblige. We wait. We wonder. Nothing happens. She soon comes back over the radio with the sad news that now her bridge won't open! More sabotage? Possible chicanery? We don't know, but there are now over 25 boats, none of which can shimmy under the bridge span, bobbing and weaving in the narrow river. An electrician is miraculously located on this Sunday morning and at 1020 hours the Gilmerton is finally opened to waterway traffic.

Now, of course, all mariners are behind schedule for the remainder of the bridges. The fastest contestants, the sport fishing boats, race ahead, followed more sedately by the sailboats and yachts. Snail-like trawlers, such as Let's Dance, bring up the rear of the line and we are next to last to arrive back at the marina in Coinjock. Luckily we have a reservation, as several boats have had to raft up to each other to spend the night. What a day!

The following days of the 2012 fall cruise had more bridges in store for us -- the Surf City Bridge, the Wrightsville Beach Bridge, the Little River Swing Bridge, the Barefoot Landing Swing Bridge and the Ben Sawyer (no fun!) Bridge. Always polite, Captain Bill hails the Ben Sawyer with a request for their next opening, knowing that they open only upon request. Well, the bridge tender woke up on the wrong side of the berth and asked snidely, "How tall are you?" Bill replies, "Thirty-nine feet." She then says, "Huh, you don't look that tall. Why don't you take down your antennas?" "No can do" is the Captain's comeback, so the tender tells us to cool our keel a while and she will let us know when she's ready to open. Not nice! We turn to head back upstream to dawdle and promptly run aground in the narrow channel. A few pumps in reverse combined with a little thrust to port and we are back afloat for the timely arrival of another downstream boat. Miss Snippy Tender now deigns to let us pass and we are well rid of her and her Ben Sawyer Bridge.

Another day, on a happier note, the Wapoo Creek Bridge tender was delightful. We request her first opening of the day, 0900 hours, and she says, "Name of your boat, please." At Bill's declaration, "Let's Dance!", she shyly replies, "Why, yes, I'd love to!"

And so we have added to the ever expanding list of TWL's (Things We've Learned) on this, the last trip of 2012....

....sailboats like to be pulled off sandbars by lines from the top of their masts
....deer and otters wait patiently for boats to pass before swimming across the ICW
....rudder alarms need immediate attention to avoid going in circles
....there is a "Dipping Vat Creek" on the chart of North Carolina, truly
...."catch you on the two" translates "let's pass starboard to starboard"

All this and more -- Washington and Baltimore are great when tourists are few and the weather is perfect. Our timing was superb! Now all that remains for December is prepping for the next passage -- The Ragged Islands! And, best of all, of course, the celebration of Christmas with family and friends. We wish you peace and joy from the heart of

Let's Dance......Carol and Bill

Friday, November 2, 2012

The Danger Zone!

Life aboard Let's Dance is full of surprises. Every day brings some new experience -- for our amusement, bewilderment, astonishment or, occasionally, edification. We rise, pull the anchor or slide away from a dock, and await the gifts that man and nature have in store for us. There are a lot of "ho, hums" and a great many "oh, wows!". The weeks following our departure from Washington provided more than a few exclamations of the "oh, wow!" variety.

Making our exit down the Potomac River, we reenter the northernmost tip of (what we now know is) the Dahlgren Laboratory Naval Surface Warfare Center "Danger Zone." Alert to potential radio instructions from Navy patrol boats, we are not disappointed when the captain of Range Boat One identifies himself on the radio. Sure enough, we are the southbound trawler in his sights. "We've got lots of eyes on you," he says. Well, that's good. We think. Unlike our previous encounter, this day the Navy is playing for keeps and conducting "live fire" exercises! Oh, wow! These guys are not kidding, and fortunately, they are not targeting trawlers today.


Following their very concise instructions, we scoot to the far edge of the river and hug the shore as we head south. All seems normal until about an hour into the zone when we hear a muffled boom followed by a definite splash! We track the sound to see a huge spray of river water about two miles off our starboard. Live fire, indeed! We snuggle closer to the port-side shoreline and hustle on our way. Twice more, booms and splashes before the captain of Range Boat Three, at the southern end of the Danger Zone, hails us to say, "Let's Dance! The range is no longer hot! We are done for the day. Carry on, captain." The time is exactly 1700 hours and the patrol boat speeds back up river so the guys can begin their weekend in earnest. We are no longer in the Danger Zone!

Some days later, after exploring the sights (and eateries) of Baltimore, it's time to turn our bow southward towards home. Again, we traverse the familiar Norfolk waterfront -- home to military vessels galore -- but this time our attention is caught by the Carnival "Glory" as she prepares for her Saturday night departure. We anchor in a lovely little basin called Hospital Point, directly across the narrow waterway, with about 15 others and settle in for the show. Crowds of happy vacationers line the decks of the giant liner, many with Mai Tais or Red Stripes in hand as they anticipate their 10 day escape. A female DJ encourages dancing on the Lido deck and we are close enough to see (and hear) the revelry. A quick lifeboat drill and the hulking cruiser throws off her lines and leaves the dock.....on their way to endless buffets, island ports of call and, with luck, no close encounters with hurricane Sandy.


Continuing our migration south, we settle into a familiar anchorage at the mouth of the Alligator River in North Carolina. The quiet of the early evening is disturbed only by the fluttering wings of a duo of giant moths, drawn to the lights of our saloon. After a quick dinner, with the doors now closed to winged intruders, we settle in for the night under a starry, starry sky. Life is good on Let's Dance!

Soon, we share a quick glance as a deep thrumming sound vibrates though the hull, gaining momentum until it feels like the boat is shivering around us. Maybe we should check outside to see what is going on! We do, and, "Oh, wow!" A quartet of jet aircraft, red and green lights pulsing as they twist and turn above us, circle Let's Dance in a broad, graceful arc. One by one, they dip to the horizon for a simulated touch down, then rise in the distance to begin the dance again. The sound is deafening as it flows outward then ebbs to just a dull throb in the distant sky. For thirty minutes the planes maneuver over the swampy terrain -- turning, dipping and ascending in mock dog-fight posturing. We have anchored in the theater of 'Top Gun'. 

 
It is beyond mesmerizing. We stand on the bow, ears covered, admiring their airborne acrobatics. And then, suddenly, blessed silence.....for about 20 minutes. Apparently dinner hour was short for the fly boys, because they are back with a super sonic vengeance. Blazing taillights reflect in the still waters of our anchorage and speeding silhouettes streak across the pale arc of the moon. Again and again they circle and swoop, until finally, fuel spent, they cede the night back to the peace of nature.

The next day, with time on our hands as we motor on south, we research the previous night's parade of planes. Here is what we now know: the Seymour Johnson AFB (secretly situated adjacent to our calm little anchorage) is home to the F-15E dual-role jet fighter "Strike Eagle". These little gems retail for about $32 million, have a wingspan of 42 feet, a length of 62 feet, weigh in at 37,500 pounds, have a fuel capacity of 35,500 pounds, a range of 2,400 miles and a top speed of 1,875 mph (that would be Mach 2.5 plus to you and me.) Oh, wow!

Like Let's Dance, they have a crew of two, but there all similarities end. We are slimmer, shorter, heavier, more fuel efficient and noticeably slower. That, and we don't cost US taxpayers a dime.

Always conscious of Mother Nature, we hung out at the Myrtle Beach Yacht Club for Sandy's tumultuous seas to subside enough for us to proceed safely on down the coast.....Charleston, Beaufort and Daufuskie in our future. Back into our safety zone.

Let's Dance.......Carol and Bill