Southbound

There is a new safety chain ready to mount on the trailer. There's a outboard ready to get its first pull of the season. There is more gear getting loaded in the truck. Tomorrow its over to Urbanna and Sunday morning early... south to North Carolina to rendezvous with friends to sail the Pamlico Sound. It is rather cold today, in the 40s (F) and raining, but the forecast for next week looks pretty good.

Will be checking in later but here's a couple new paintings before we head out.

Crab Steamin' Day

One Lung Skiff

An Old Gift

Spring readiness projects have been going well. Small repairs are done and tomorrow the weather looks nice for a trip over to Urbanna to re-rig Annie. The yard jaws needed new leather and I had just the right piece. I have been carrying around a bag of leather my dad gave me from the furniture plant he ran while I was a boy. He taught me how to make things and solve problems. His lessons have come in handy more than once on the water. There are only a few pieces left now after more than thirty years but it still feels good to find a use for them.

 

 

The Last One

We drove to Annapolis, Maryland yesterday for a family funeral at the Naval Academy. A bittersweet reunion with cousins. Now, all our parents, aunts and uncles have passed on. They were special and are missed.

Although only a couple of hours north, it was markedly colder. The Annapolis harbor was frozen and except for gulls and ducks, there was little activity on the water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clay Work

Eleanor and I have been collaborating on maritime ceramic sculptures. I started by making boats in wood for her clay figures and have recently changed to clay as well. It is in the early stages but we have finished a number of pieces and have shown a few in our Florida gallery to good response. It has been a nice complement to our daily painting.

Bread Winner

Trophy

Eleanor's latest, awaiting glaze and fire

 

'Boatbuilding' in clay

Chilly

Snow is melting fast today. It's in the 50s (F) and probably won't last long. It dumped around 6" of powder this past week and over in the Urbanna area, where Annie lives, there was a bit less. Vera and John sent me this pic and said that the tarp "was doing its job". Thank you both for your help.... there is nothing quite like good friends.

A Drascombe's Rudder

I partially disassembled Annie' rudder/ tiller assembly to varnish the tiller and inspect. It is a somewhat different beast when compared to other small boat equipment. In most Drascombe boats- Luggers, Longboats, Coasters- the rudder slides down through a thin well and out the bottom. The configuration affords the mizzen mast and the outboard an amidships position. It does take getting used to.

I made a small, teak, slotted wedge to slip under the pivot section of the rudder when raised in shallow water. The heavy rod portion is covered in split PVC pipe and a thick sleeve bushing keeps the bronze rudder head from grinding in to the deck plate.

It all went back together and its off to the next pre-season task...

stainless steel 'knock-up' rudder

bronze rudder head assembly that accepts the tiller

rudder in raised position

'self-steering'

Shine is fine, but so too funk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Work

Spending these cold days in the studio with the stove cranking out heat. I need to work hard to have work ready for the spring season. Forging ahead...

Early Morning Still
acrylic on canvas  24 x 30
© Curtis Bowman 2015

and if you are interested in a custom boat portrait, send me a note...    hbdgcurt@yahoo.com

Fire Power

I have been thinking about Spring. When Annie is put back together and launched I am visualizing a first-pull start. Hoping the same for you as well... that is, if you use the 'other' propulsion!

 

 

Fire Power

Oil and transfer on steel

© Curtis Bowman 2015

Packing

Starting to load paintings and gear. Heading south in the morning for galleries in Georgia and Florida. Leaving a painting of the FD Crockett to finish another day.

The Long Night

I went to see my friend Steve in Chesapeake a few days ago and shared some old sailing books. I had also found a log from 1979 tucked in the bookcase. I read a number of entries and felt it might be a good idea to write down my memories of one that seemed sketchy and lacking in detail. Actually it was the day before and early hours through that night that really tells the story.

It was mid- autumn in the small harbor of Beaufort, North Carolina. On a open-ended cruise south from Kill Devil Hills on the upper Outer Banks, the Beaufort anchorage was a nice respite. It was the early afternoon of October 30 and it had been a beautiful day. Being a little high on this new sea-steading lifestyle I decided to abandon the Intracoastal Waterway and run the coast to Masonboro Inlet near Wrightsville Beach, approximately 80 miles SW. The tides were favorable in so far as the inlet was concerned and the weather reported an upcoming shift to the north but no alarms.

Setting out Quelle and I made the sea buoy at 1600 hours. The wind had freshened and wave height grew quickly. I decided at that point that it would be better to retrace my track and return. The wind was by then out of the north and close-hauled she made a bit of progress only to be knocked off by the growing waves. I put on foul weather gear and continued into the sea for another thirty minutes or so. Hove to I dropped the overpowered main and decided to run off under jib.That was the beginning of a long night.

The sun set to port and I switched on the running lights.Wind NE, seas were 4-5 feet with a decent period. Running downwind was a relief for the 5 knots through the water had been sutbracted from the wind speed. As night fell the wind steadily increased and the seas heightened. My 8 ft. Dyer-style dinghy was riding fine off the stern on a 20 foot painter. Today I would not be towing a dinghy. But I'm no longer in my 20s either. The waves grew to 10 feet, and it was up to the top to see the crests and down to the trough to face the wall. Over and over again through the dark night.

With first light came an eerie glow that was as welcome as strange. Daylight was close and it was time to start working west from the 5 miles I reckoned to be offshore. The wind and waves were still high, 30 knots and 10-12 feet. I wested slowly as the light increased. Just as land came into sight it all changed... a feeling. I looked back to see a wave breaking. It engulfed the dinghy, the painter snapped, the small boat disappeared, and the wave continued, knocking me down into the cockpit. Instinctively, I suppose, I shoved the tiller to starboard. She reeled and took the second one across the bow. And then it was as it was for hours. Up and down in the waves again. But I had changed. My heart was pulsing and a clear mandate shot through me. We had to get in. Now.

Removing the top washboard I reached down and grabbed the VHF hand set, stretched the coil cord back and called the Coast Guard on 16. I told them of my estimated location and was asked to describe any structures I could make out on the beach. After a short time a vertical-striped condo came in to view and the operator identified it saying that I would be seeing a large rock jetty a mile or so farther. When it came into view I could see waves breaking against it shooting high in the sea spray-filled air. My directions were to hug the end and keep close to the rocks, then I was to make a hard turn to starboard. Getting close I cranked the small inboard and began sheeting in.

As we rounded I felt like we were dropping in an elevator. Water was breaking to leeward and we barely held to the protected water behind the jetty. The inboard groaned and I continued through the inlet until able to drop anchor in a seemingly quiet area. I fell in the wet cabin and what seemed like no time found myself waking to find her dragging in the current. I scurried to get underway but lost ground and started to hit bottom. A power boat came by out of nowhere and asked if I needed help and I accepted gratefully. They towed us to a dock where I tied up.

18 hours at the tiller had left me exhausted. With help I scoured the beach but the dinghy was never found. I learned a lot that night... about single-handed sailing and myself.

Starting Winter Maintenance

A bit warmer and sunny on Saturday. With tools and lumber loaded in the truck I headed for Urbanna after dropping a painting off at the gallery in Mathews. Annie's mast and self-furling headsail needed some work. I made a 'ridge pole' to substitute for the mast that typically supports the boat cover...

Tabernacle

The mainmast is a rather short spar, 13' 8". When raised its effective length is increased by the sliding gunter yard, that together support the large, triangular-shaped mainsail. When underway and the yard is dropped and lashed to the mast, most low bridges are easy to slip through.

The mainmast pivots on a deck-mounted tabernacle fitted with a 1/2" stainless bolt that acts as a pivot pin. When down, the mast rests on a crutch stepped into the mizzen mast position. This creates the nice 'ridge' to support the cover.

 

Ridge pole

The dodger is typically folded down below the dropped mast. I decided to remove it as well and upon return to the my studio/shop, I cleaned the clear plastic windows and stored it away. The spar made its way to the overhead... hopefully out of the way in my small space.

Mainmast and headsail stored awaiting repairs 

As the sun set... Sunny Jim took off the chill

Frenchy's

There is an art gallery called Frenchy's down in Mathews County, Virginia. It's small, very local and quite eccentric. Ben Richardson, the purveyor, has family roots that go deep. He carves Chesapeake wildlife, likes his PBR, and sells my paintings. We have become good friends and we are working together to find small ways to utilize art in the preservation of maritime traditions on the Bay. 

Down on Main Street

Ben

Packing Crabs
© Curt Bowman 2014