A Traveler's Tale, Part I

Jo Beth, hauled and blocked ashore at
Tiger Point Marina and Boatworks,
Fernandina Beach, Florida

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Hello everyone. Once again, I apologize for so much time passing between posts. I'm hopeful such long pauses are behind me. What follows is part one of my 'catch-up' story; where Jo Beth is now, where we are with her, and what's in store for the future. Thank you for sticking with us.

Bill Ballard
11/26/2011

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On a balmy Sunday evening in middle August, as hurricane Irene lumbered through the northwestern Caribbean, approaching the islands of the Turks and Caicos, and southern Bahamas, I watched with a mix of interest and growing concern. I take hurricanes very seriously; having endured three of the damn things, Andrew among them, I am wary.

The southeastern coast of the US, including all of Georgia, a smattering of northeast Florida, and plenty of South Carolina had been contained within the forecast track of the storm, aptly called “The Cone of Uncertainty,” for several days. Dead center, with little variation for these several days, was the region surrounding Savannah, including Hilton Head Island and Beaufort, South Carolina. The track of the storm wobbled from day to day, but remained relatively consistent. Hurricanes which maintain consistent and persistent tracks are worrisome.

We had planned to haul Jo Beth for bottom painting and other minor maintenance in September or October at Hinckley Yacht Services in Savannah. As I watched Irene remain steadfastly on course, I decided Jo Beth needed to be hauled much sooner. Savannah lay 75 miles due north from our marina slip in Brunswick, as the crow flies. As the boat sails, the distance was closer to 100 miles. There was always the chance the storm would pass us by.

Between our slip in Brunswick and the Hinckley Service dock in Savannah, lay 100 miles of Atlantic Ocean, salt water marshes, and brackish rivers. With a large cyclonic storm approaching the area, swells would be building and winds would be steadily clocking around to the northeast. A beat for sure, or a motor sail directly into the wind. The swell would be rising as well.

The ICW (Intracoastal Waterway) was another option, but due to a lack of maintenance and dredging, Jo Beth with her 5’ draft would surely touch bottom in a couple of spots. Sailing on the ICW is limited as well; any engine trouble or a grounding, and my problems would grow exponentially.

Tiger Point Marina and Boatworks lay to the south in Fernandina Beach, Florida. This is much closer to our home marina -- approximately 40 miles total from slip to service dock. The run outside would be easier as well; out St. Simons channel, turn south, sail to and enter the St. Marys channel. The distance from sea buoy to sea buoy was a scant 24 miles. With expected north easterlies, it would be a fun and fast downwind ride.

As Sunday morphed into Monday, Irene continued on her track unwaveringly. I called Tiger Point at 8:00 a.m. and scheduled the haulout.

Now, I needed crew. Lisa had taken a consulting job in Atlanta some months before and would not be able to join me. After confirming the haulout for Tuesday afternoon, I called our friend James Baldwin. James is a veteran cruising sailor, friend, and excellent yacht repairer and re-fitter. I asked if he could make the trip; he could. I began to relax. Boats don’t do well in the water during hurricanes. If Irene paid a visit, Jo Beth would be safely ashore.

We were originally hauling for routine maintenance and a few odd jobs; among them were bottom painting; the replacement of the cutlass bearing and the propeller shaft seal; and the installation of a galvanic isolator. (The galvanic isolator was being installed to resolve our issue with electrolysis discussed in the previous post, 'Wasting Away.' Even after extensive testing by two very competent marine electricians, we were not able to isolate the problem. Thus, we decided to install the isolator during the yard period.) Boats being boats, there are always a multitude of jobs that need doing, but for us, these were most pressing. The trip to the boat yard changed all that, somewhat.

Those jobs were still done, but the off-shore passage to the boatyard revealed much more that needed doing, particularly to the running rigging. ‘Running rigging’ refers to the general network of ropes, lines, blocks, and cleats that are necessary for proper and efficient sail handling and control.

Prior to the trip I was very aware that a good deal of the running rigging aboard Jo Beth was ready for replacement. As James and I sailed out into St. Simons Sound, setting the yankee and mainsail, much was revealed. Initially, the forecast was for light easterly winds of 5 to 10 knots, increasing and backing to the east-northeast at 15 knots by afternoon. What we actually had in the sound was a stiff easterly breeze of 15 knots. As we entered the St. Simons Bar Channel and headed offshore the winds increased to 20 knots and shifted to the east-southeast.

One of the running rigging components most in need of replacement was the mainsheet traveler. The mainsheet traveler is a slightly curved track which is fitted across the cabin roof. A car slides on the track from left to right, controlling the position of the boom and mainsail relative to the centerline of the boat. Attached to this car, through a network of blocks, is the mainsheet, the line which controls the mainsail.

Long before reaching the terminus of the channel, with James at the tiller, I put a single reef in the mainsail. Reefing is the same as shortening the sail; it reduces the amount of sail surface exposed to the wind, thus reducing the loading and strain on the entire boat. The easterly winds were in opposition to the outgoing tide and had created short, blocky, and steep waves. As Jo Beth pounded headlong into the short but solid walls of water, the mainsheet would jerk on the traveler car, lifting it nearly free of the track. Reefing the sail helped ease the loading on the traveler, but still, to see the small car dancing about the track, rising and falling with the swell, was unnerving. If it failed, we would not be able to control the mainsail.

James and I didn’t say anything for several long seconds. Finally, he asked “has your traveler always been that loose?” I watched it snap up and down. “It needs to be replaced," I admitted sheepishly. He glanced towards me, looking slightly pensive, countering the motion of the boat with the tiller. “Yes,” he finally said in his usual flat tone, “I think you should replace your traveler. Soon.” The traveler car continued its dance. "Actually," I began, "there's lots that needs to be done with the running rigging." James smiled slightly. "Yes," he agreed, "there is."

As we turned south so did the wind, putting itself nearly on the nose. It increased in velocity as well, to 25 knots with the occasional gust likely exceeding 30 knots. In order to hold our course, we put a second reef in the mainsail and turned on the motor, motor-sailing and beating into the seas and wind. Remarkably, the seas didn’t increase much beyond the four foot average, though frequently a six footer would roll under us. Occasionally, one or two eight footers would hit us on the nose too. Each time they did, Jo Beth would effectively stop, fall into the trough and then gathering herself, step out and build her speed once again.

James is an accomplished sailor, with two and a half circumnavigations of the globe in a 28’ Pearson Triton under his belt. He is completely immune to seasickness. I am not and after the second reef was in, I was stricken. I spent the rest of the trip lying prone in the cockpit, the exception being two 10 minute feed-the-fishies sessions. Soon thereafter, we made our turn and entered the St. Marys channel - in near flat calm conditions – having used that double reefed sail nearly the whole way in. (Actually, James shook out the second reef at some point during the run. I’m presuming it was one of the times my head was over the side.) As we entered the channel at mid point, the wind simply vanished. Less than seven hours after leaving our slip at Brunswick Landing Marina, Jo Beth was being blocked ashore at Tiger Point Marina.

The yard period was completed without a hitch. Jo Beth was relaunched, and on a nearly windless Saturday in mid-October, Lisa and I motored north to Brunswick in a nearly flat calm sea. Upon arrival, we topped off her fuel tank and secured her in her slip, knowing we would be dockbound for the next several months.

Hurricane Irene eventually did bypass Savannah and the immediate coasts of Florida and South Carolina, but only by 275 miles. That’s not far in the world of hurricanes; had Irene been a more symmetrically shaped storm, or slipped her course a mere 1/2 of one degree to the west, Savannah and Hilton Head would have likely fared a bit worse than just the few hours of near gale conditions and moderate beach erosion they experienced.

One pleasant surprise was the discovery that our insurance company, Boat/US, would cover half of the cost of our haulout. A provision in our policy provides reimbursement for one-half the cost of a haulout when an area where an insured vessel is located is actively threatened by an approaching storm. Yet one more reason to insure your vessel with a dedicated marine insurer.

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'A Traveler's Tale, Part II' will be posted next weekend. See you then!

Wasting Away...

Sitting warm and snug in Jo Beth’s cozy cabin, I'd much rather avoid the topic of this post. But sailing isn’t all trade-winds and paradise. I almost want to twist the old Navy recruiting slogan and apply it to the rigors of owning a cruising sailboat: “It’s Not an Adventure, It’s a Job.”

Don’t get me wrong; we love Jo Beth. We love her dearly. Perhaps that’s why we put up with her issues. That’s why we continue to nurture her and support her, and look after her. After all, we expect the same from her.

There is a whole laundry list of tasks, large and small, cheap and expensive, that need doing. However, the issue of the utmost importance to resolve is one of electrolytic corrosion.

Our shaft zincs – protective collars made of zinc that fit snugly on the propeller shaft – are degrading fast. Very fast. Faster than they should.

A new shaft collar zinc is shown on the right. The zinc on the left is what remains of a new one installed on Jo Beth's propeller shaft after less than two months in the water.

For the non-sailor, or non-boat owner, I’ll explain.

Seawater is an electrolyte, or an element capable of carrying an electric current. When two dissimilar metals are immersed in an electrolyte – seawater – an electric current will flow between them. This creates a very elemental battery. Now these currents are very small; mere millivolts, but the greater and damaging effect is that one metal will sacrifice it’s electrons to the other. This is known as electrolytic corrosion. Every metal and metal alloy has a place on the Galvanic Series Chart, from the most active (anodic, or least-noble) to the least active (cathodic, or most-noble), and a metal’s position on this chart determines how active or inactive it will be when immersed in an electrolyte or otherwise subjected to electric current.

Metals commonly used on boats below the waterline are aluminum, stainless steel, and bronze. In the case of Jo Beth, the only metals in contact with the seawater are stainless steel (the propeller shaft) and bronze (the propeller, through hull fittings, and rudder fittings). Because bronze is lower than stainless steel on the Galvanic Series Chart that means that Jo Beth’s bronze propeller is sacrificing itself to the stainless steel propeller shaft. Left unchecked, the propeller would eventually, given enough time, disappear.

Because bronze propellers are expensive, and we don’t want to have to replace ours again and again and again, we place fittings made of zinc in the proximity of the two active metals. Zinc is very low on the Galvanic Series Chart and will sacrifice it’s electrons to nearly every other metal when immersed in an electrolyte. So a small collar made of zinc resides on our propeller shaft solely to be sacrificed.

The problem is our propeller shaft zinc is giving itself up too rapidly. It’s important that we find out why, as rapidly deteriorating zincs are often symptomatic of other problems. Typically, those problems are within the on-board electrical system, but they can sometimes be brought about by other boats in close proximity, or the dockside electrical system.

Electrical grounding on a boat can be tricky. Mostly, this is because there are two electrical systems aboard: DC and AC. DC, or Direct Current is the electricity supplied by batteries. AC, or Alternating Current, is the stuff you buy from your local electric company.

Often, electrolytic corrosion is referred to as ‘stray current corrosion.’ This is because a faulty ground on the AC system aboard a boat can ‘leak’ current to the DC system. The AC current will attempt to seek a path to ground and the resulting stray current will cause electrolytic corrosion. Boats in close proximity can also be the source of a stray current.

The real rub is finding the leak, or the problem within the system. Every grounded circuit on the boat, of which there can be hundreds, is suspect. Improperly grounded radios have destroyed engines because of electrolytic corrosion. Testing must be done, and I’m off to get some basic tests made. I’ll discuss what I find in the next entry.

Hello World - Again!

My parents used to tell me time flies when you’re having fun. As of late, I’ve found myself asking questions regarding the passage of time to no one in particular. Time has flown, but it’s not been particularly fun.

Nonetheless, the time has gone. Where? I have no idea. Jo Beth is still very much in our lives, though we don’t seem to be so much in hers. We’re working to change that, but it’s a work in progress.

2010, particularly the end of it, was somewhat trying for us. We had family members with medical conditions to deal with, resulting in some unanticipated changes and stresses. Most of that seems to be behind us now. However, our re-emergence into our own brand of normalcy is going somewhat slow. I hadn’t fully realized how slow, until I received an urgent and somewhat agitated voice message today from a client.

This brief update is to state to the world “we’re still here, we still have the boat, and we’re still going sailing.”

However, we do have a few things to fix first - more to follow.

A Long Time Gone...

Ebb Tide Running, St. Simons Sound

I’m stating the obvious in saying this, but here goes: it’s been a while since I’ve written in this blog.

For that matter, it’s been a while since we’ve even been aboard Jo Beth save the occasional look-see to be sure she’s still afloat. Here’s a brief review of the happenings since the last entry dated September 24, 2009.

Bob & Sara Miner, Aboard S/V SMALL PLANET

October – December
We were aboard frequently through fall and early winter last year, and made the occasional day sail in and around St. Simons Sound and St. Simons and Jekyll Islands. The fall was warm and the conditions good for sailing, though our collective schedules didn’t permit any overnight trips or short three or four day cruises. In late October, the cool weather fronts began to plow through, bringing with them cooler temps and blustery winds.

In November, we caught a couple of nice breaks in the weather. Our friends Bob and Sara Miner, aboard Small Planet, also a Pacific Seacraft Crealock 34, (though slightly newer than Jo Beth), were in from Colorado. Small Planet is berthed one dock over from Jo Beth and we spent one weekend sailing aboard each other’s boat. The contrast in weather between the two days was startling; when we sailed aboard Jo Beth, skies were blue, and the winds were warm and perfect; 15 knots from the southwest. Aboard Small Planet, on the very next day, the skies were clear and the weather warm, but the wind was nowhere to be found. Using Small Planet’s auxiliary diesel motor, we plowed across a flat, glassy sea looking for wind, going as far as 5 miles offshore, to no avail. Still, it was fun to be away from the dock on a warm fall day, and aside from encounters with two freighters in the harbor channel, the runs were uneventful.

The month of December was quiet for Jo Beth. Bob and Sara returned to Colorado for the Thanksgiving holidays and will be back in April. The weather began its downward spiral and we decided to skip weekends aboard in December in favor of taking the week between Christmas and New Year’s and sailing south to Cumberland Island. Then, on the day before Christmas Eve after driving to visit my mother, my back began to cause me problems. We also began watching the weather and realized conditions would not be the best for sailing. So, with a bum back and little hope for friendly weather, we once again pushed the calendar back.

Outbound Traffic on the Brunswick River

January to Now

The weather has been our biggest issue in getting away from the dock. Several trips have been postponed due to frigid temperatures and howling winds; even snow. The weather pattern is reminiscent of the winter of 2003, where we spent our first months aboard in this same marina, watching front after front train through. Several boats were holed up with us, waiting for a weather window to make a run for the Bahamas and points south.

This past weekend we decided enough was enough, and with a moderately promising forecast, headed to Jo Beth to spend a few days on board and hopefully, get in a few hours sailing. We experienced quite chilly temperatures and winds near gale force Thursday and Friday, and as I sat in Jo Beth’s cozy cabin writing this entry, I watched gray, overcast skies and light winds stir outside her ports. The forecast indicated more rain and blustery winds as yet another front approached.

The only consistent factor was the cold. We were hopeful to get out for an hour or so one of our days aboard; move the boat through the water, run the motor, and perhaps get a few small maintenance projects completed.

Larger maintenance projects loom ahead of us; the bottom paint, now over two years old, is losing its effectiveness against marine growth and a diver needs to clean the bottom about once every three months. Some of the safety equipment on board need expensive batteries replaced; and the overflow vents on both fresh water tanks are blocked. Ah, the joys of owning a yacht!

Mostly, we’re looking forward to spring; bluer skies, warmer days, and steadier winds.

Underway at Long Last!

Jo Beth underway in St. Simons Sound, passing Jekyll Island.





Usually, we avoid being out on the boat or water during the busy summer holidays – Memorial Day, Independence Day, and Labor Day. But this year, the Labor Day holiday was an exception. We slipped the lines and managed some time down sound for a few hours. It was good.

Our holiday weekend began with our arrival at the boat on Friday afternoon. We promptly set about our list of chores. First was to clean out the refrigerator/freezer cooling water intake filter and lines; then get the unit powered up and cooling down. Second was to circulate fresh sea water into the head (toilet).

Marine heads use seawater for flushing, so it is necessary to pump the stagnated water which had been laying in the sea water intake lines out and overboard. We also had to make an unplanned grocery run. As we were unpacking and getting settled, we discovered that in our haste to leave Savannah, we had neglected to bring enough food for the entire time we planned aboard. After completing the immediate chores with the refrigerator and head, and chatting with our dock neighbors Doug and Pat aboard Scallywag, a CSY 37, we headed into town for a delicious brick-oven pizza and to the local Winn-Dixie for groceries.

We spent most of Saturday doing the more mundane chores, which included giving the boat a good cleaning and bathing inside and out and inflating the dingy to so that marine growth on the hull along the waterline could be scraped off. In doing so, we discovered the dingy had yet another slow air leak in one of the pontoons. We also updated some of the paperwork necessary to keep the boat logs and safety equipment current and legal. Throughout, we were listening to weather forecasts and calculating (i.e. guessing) for the ideal conditions to get Jo Beth out of her slip and into St. Simons Sound for a nice romp. We decided Sunday looked the best.

We guessed right; Sunday was a beautiful and warm day, with an east-northeast breeze at 15-18 knots which occasionally gusted to 20 knots, conditions Jo Beth absolutely loves. With the yankee and mainsail set, she balances beautifully on a beam reach. Jo Beth typically carries two or three sails when sailing; for this trip, she carried a yankee, which is the forward most sail, andthe mainsail, the sail attached to the mast and boom.

Approaching the Sidney Lanier Bridge.

Unfortunately, St. Simons Sound and the Turtle River, the body of water that lay between our marina and the sound, sit roughly on an east-west orientation. This meant the trip out was a tacking beat into the breeze; the trip back to Brunswick Landing, a broad reach or run, with multiple jibes.

For the non-sailor, that pretty much means we had to go directly into the wind heading out and had the wind directly behind us coming back. Sailboats can’t move under sail when the wind is blowing from dead ahead of the boat. Sailboats can sail with the wind directly behind them, and some move fairly well this way, but it can be wearisome on the crew and have an uncomfortable motion. Most boats perform best a few points off of the wind, meaning when the wind moving over the boat at a forty-five degree angle to the bow or stern. When the wind is blowing from directly in front of or behind the boat, the boat must be tacked or jibed to make way. Tacking is moving the front of the boat to get to the optimum angle for sailing; jibing is doing the same with the back of the boat. If you were looking down from above on the track of a boat moving through the water while tacking or jibing, the boat’s course would appear as a zigzag.

We also had the outgoing tide in our favor as we passed under the Sidney Lanier Bridge and out of Brunswick Harbor and Jo Beth flew over the bottom at nearly 7 knots. However, as wind and tide were in opposition, the sea state was a hash of choppy waves, which made for the occasional burst of spray over the rail and an interesting downwind ride when time came to head back to the marina. Waves generated by opposing wind and current aren’t the long, generally even swells one sees on the open ocean, but are short and steep waves, piled in close together. When it’s really stormy, and wind and tide are in opposition, the sounds and coastal rivers along Georgia’s coast can resemble a washing machine.



Brunswick's historic commercial waterfront.

All in all, it was a fun afternoon and didn’t last nearly long enough, though it is still too warm to comfortably overnight aboard away from the dock and the luxuries of marina living. Fall is on the way, and that means better sailing in cooler weather and more reliable winds. We’re both looking forward to longer trips over the coming months.

Keep checking in with us.
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From the 'For-What-It's-Worth' department, I'm not sure why some pictures will open and expand when others won't. It seems to be a random issue. When I get it figured out, I'll fix them. Until then, please bear with me. Or, if you know what's happening; what I may be doing wrong or not doing at all, please feel free to share the knowledge.

Summer continues...

Until early fall, at least. The heat, humidity, and seemingly endless afternoon squalls continue to hamper and delay any and all projects planned for Jo Beth this summer. Plus, that necessary evil of our society and culture, “earning-a-living”, has provided us with plenty of distraction as well. Not that we’re complaining of course...not in “this” economy!

Jo Beth hauled at Hinckley Yacht Services, Savannah, GA.




Jo Beth often spends her summers ashore. It's generally too hot to sail comfortably, the winds are light and fluky, and afternoon storms a pain. This is a time for below waterline maintenance. We're skipping this season, instead doing as much as we can with her afloat. If nothing else, this is going to stretch the antifouling abilities of her bottom paint to the max! So far, things aren't bad; in Savannah waters, we'd have to have had a diver down on the boat two or three times by now. Most of what we've seen growing in the marina basin at Brunswick is a soft type of growth, much of which will slough off as the boat moves through the water.

Cooler weather is approaching. It’ll be a juggling act for us, make no mistake; prioritizing and getting those essential projects done on board prior to the arrival of that little sliver of winter that we experience in the southeastern states, and getting the boat underway so we can remember why we invest so much of ourselves in her.

Both Lisa and I are eager to spend time aboard Jo Beth again, to feel her slice through the waves and lift to the swell, and letting evening breezes blow through the open hatches while she lies quietly to her anchor, cozy among the marshes. For us, there’s no place like a small boat to find comfort for our souls. I, for one, have been away too long.

That’s saying something, especially for me, someone that often feels they spend way too much time messing with (other people’s) boats. Better days are on the horizon.

In the interim, I promised Lisa I would write more about our journey with Jo Beth; tell the tale of how we’ve arrived at where we are, and talk about the lessons we’ve learned from the innumerable interesting characters we’ve met along the way, as well as those we’ve learned from Jo Beth herself. Before long, we’ll slip the lines and do some sailing. So keep reading. Sailing is an endeavor of patience. I promise it will be entertaining. There’ll even be pictures – maybe a video too!

On a somber note, today is the 17th anniversary of the landfall of hurricane Andrew in Miami, Florida. For the first and hopefully only time in our lives, my wife and I became homeless overnight along with hundreds of thousands of others. It's an experience we will never forget.

Ah, summer on the Georgia coast...

A time of blistering heat, drowning humidity and minimal winds.

Not the best time to spend on a sailing yacht. We haven't been to the boat in several weeks due to the demands of making a living in the modern world, but thought we'd give it a go this past weekend; continue some maintenance projects and even slip the lines for a short cruise.

It was not to be.

At 96 degrees and 84% humidity - and that was at 10pm, Friday night - we had a change of heart. Our small portable air conditioning unit had been pumping it's little heart out for nearly 12 hours and the cabin temperature was now down to the upper '80's. Staying adequately hydrated was a challenge. By around 4am, the temperature was finally down into the lower '80's and we managed one or two hours of sleep.

How did we do this so often on our other, smaller boat, with no air conditioning, sometimes for days and nights at a time? Well, for one thing, we were twenty some-odd years younger. For another, we were skinnier and healthier. For the first time in my life I thought "I'm getting too old for this you-know-what" and meant it. I mean, I really meant it.

Our weekend on the boat was quickly abandoned for real air conditioning and a more soothing environment for our middle-aged bods. We've decided that, in the summer months, we'll more than likely day-sail; short cruises around Brunswick Harbor and St. Simons Sound. If we can time it with the arrival of a mild cool front, we may just attempt an overnight sail to somewhere. Otherwise, the overnight and longer trips will have to wait for the cooler times of year.

Stay tuned; we'll have her underway shortly - and at least through September, we'll be back by dark.