Back to Work

The epoxy set up well on the spars but they have been left for another day (or so) as I have been working steady on a design job in Jekyll Island, Georgia.

Designing a new park exhibit that will tell the story of the survivors from the Wanderer, the last slave ship to Georgia and the next to US/African slave trade. She was a 106' square topmast schooner built as a yacht racer and sailed at 20 knots. Re-outfitted with slave transport modifications, she sailed the West Africa in 1858 and picked up 487 captives; reaching the Jekyll Creek where she went aground. Many of the 'cargo' were lost and this story and after is my task to interpret.

My concept is to present it as a family learning experience with children's book illustrations and re-created settings to attract children and youth, and more in-depth context to empower parents and caregivers to interact.

On the studio front... I (with the help of my friend Eddie) am finalizing the design and looking forward to a big build party in June. And maybe an invitation to crew on a small craft in the interim.

The Wanderer

 

 

Concept sketch

Commuter

Spar-making is going along real well. Have been making the "commute" to John and Vera's. They are on a trip to Texas and I am alone to progress. Shaped the main halyard sheave with files and coarse paper by making an axle out of a threaded bolt and locking nuts, then chucking in the drill press. Drilled through the mast and with a few adjustments to the rectangular hole... she spun freely.

The mast band that carries the shrouds and jib wire/forestay required a rabbet around the top of the mast and the tabernacle bolt hole was oversized to accept a pivot bushing. John had shaped a white oak crook into two gaff throat sides and I inset them into the gaff end. With all the tooling complete, the spars got sanded again.

Yesterday I returned and flow coated with WEST thinned with acetone. This, hopefully will penetrate the soft spruce and protect the varnish surface from inevitable dings and discoloring. This morning they were dry and ready for sanding in the near future.

Forging ahead... slowly.

Someday soon

Pheonix from the Ashes

What a month. The insurance issues settled and they made out the best. Due to the language that stated that our homeowners policy would not cover the out structure harboring a painting business, we got zip for removing and rebuilding the studio/workshop. They did pay for a portion of the contents and $1000 for the boat spars, sails, rigging and cushions. So... read your policies, get extra boat insurance, and be careful. Shit happens... in the middle of the night.


I got bids and proceeded with having the building and debris removed. After 6 weeks we were very happy to have it taken away. We salvaged as much as possible including a number of tools that were worth cleaning up. Eleanor helped me rebuild the fence and we feel a bit less exposed.

 

 

 

Annie's spars were charred but useful in taking measurements. Gathering up info and pieces I headed to Urbanna where John and I interpolated the info and set to work. John had Sitka spruce from way back and laminated it up for the two masts. The burnt main mast was trimmed down and recycled for the gaff. After he cut the tapers I set out planing both with a power planer and a bench plane. Before long the floor was deep in shavings, the cold shop air full of wood scent, and I was happy again.

 

My new friend Andy from Virginia Beach generously gave me an old set of Longboat sails. With a little alteration they will fit the new spars and give Annie wings until I can afford new ones.

My bivouac studio in a spare bedroom is working out. I have a large deadrise painting on the easel and have made progress on the Wanderer slave ship exhibit design for Jekyll Island, Georgia. More on that later.

We plan to build the studio back in the spring/early summer. I need to set aside a few weekends and share the dates with friends that want to join the work party. Will get that done this week.

All and all life is good and the winter mild. The one big snow brought ten inches of powder and was gone in a few days. Tomorrow it will be in the low 70s. Perfect.

Decision

The snow is melting fast and it may go up into the 60s F. today. Monday I received the fire claim decision. Due to my studio ( a detached structure) being a place where paintings were produced and then sold through galleries, the homeowners insurance would not cover the removal and replacement of the structure, nor the paintings and painting supplies. Watercraft limit was $1000, so Annie's spars, sails, rigging and cushions were, for the most part, were uncovered. I had failed to read the 'finer points' of our homeowners policy. I hope that others with home-based businesses check their policies closely and avoid this type of situation. I surely would not want anyone to go through this.

On the high side Lingering Lunacy Eddie came by and we commiserated on how to rebuild. Eddie is a very capable architect (as well as a stellar boat builder/sailor) and together we are starting to plan a studio raising for the spring/summer. Many good folks have volunteered to pitch in. I foresee a tent city.

I also talked with John, shipwright and captain of the F.D. Crockett. He has a stash of spruce just right for spars. As soon as I get particulars on Annie's sails we will schedule a time to start ripping and laminating. I'm in good hands.

In the meantime I have been immersing myself in pottery. Taking it out on big lumps of clay. Its helping.

Shiver me Timbers

It's 3 degrees this morning. There is a small craft warning. Seems like stating the obvious. Think I'll put a splash in my coffee!

A Carving Chisel

I finished the inventory of what I lost last night and sent it along to the insurance adjuster. Quotes on clearing and rebuilding are also being finished and submitted. I am hoping for some help from insurance but not at all sure how much... or when.

Annie's spars are well charred and the sails, sheets and halyards are completely gone. There is metal gear- furling swivel, tangs, wire shrouds, mast band and more- that is intact but need replacing. A house fire is around 1100 degrees F. and I do not trust the metals strength. After taking measurements I sawed the mast ends off and there is a lot of good eastern red spruce still inside. It may be possible to get a smaller spar out.

I spent a good amount of time yesterday digging through the debris to remember things for the inventory and found a few pieces intact. Cleaned up a carving gouge that could still 'still plow a row'. It felt like a start and that's a good feeling.

The only discernible remnant of a set of tanbark sails.

Masthead

Salvageable spruce

 

A bucket of found objects

Up Early

Its early Christmas morning and I am up alone. The house is still cold as the furnace catches up with the new day. The girls will get to sleep in and I'll have this time to remember this past week.

I have had a lot of friends checking in. Thoughtful messages, letters, deposits on future artwork and small checks from folks I've not seen in years. Richmond friends have passed along spare house tools. Many of my 'boat buddies' have pledged to rally for a building party when the spring returns.

When I can bring myself to it I have picked through the wet ashes. Found my grandfather's WWI knife and several tools that I used in the '80s when I carved and sold sugar pine fish in Santa Fe. One of the megalodon teeth kept from my work on white shark in South African survived. I hadn't known how much these small things would remind me of the long, rich life I've been fortunate to experience.


Good news... although Annie's sail maker is out of business, their sister shop is still in going in Burlington, Vermont and have all the original accounts and specifications. They have quoted me and new sails are my first priority. Shaw & Tenney have the spar plans but due to cost I will opt to build myself. Friend John has a stash of seasoned spruce that might come into play.

Now I'm selfishly hoping the girls get up soon. Thank you to everyone for your support. And Merry Christmas!

"Seeing If I Still Have It", acrylic on canvas, ©Curtis Bowman 2016

Looking Ahead

The thought of Annie laying at anchor on a warm spring evening is keeping me up and strong for the tasks ahead. As Uncle Benny used to say "just steps on earth".

Spider Key, Tampa Bay, Florida 

Keeping My Head Up

This is hard to write but I need to. Yesterday in the early morning hours my workshop/studio burned to the ground. We are waiting for the adjuster before going in but it appears that there is nothing left. Pretty much everything that was 'just me' was inside.... all my tools, my paintings (over a hundred), personal artifacts and natural history collections, pictures, books, and Annie's spars, rigging, sails and cushions. From what I gather from conversations with the insurance company it may be a long process and some stumbling blocks. We are going to retain counsel.

I'm starting to pull myself together, starting to do research and making lists. Ted Perry who built Annie is no longer in business and doesn't seem to have measured drawings any longer. The sailmaker is also out of business. Waiting to hear from Simon at Churchouse Boats in England and Steve at Shaw & Tenny.

Thought you would all like to know. I'm holding fast as the old timers used to say. And looking forward to Christmas with the girls. Hope all of you that read my log are well and have a great holiday.

Curt

Learning to Sail Alone

Albermarle Sound, NC. 1978

Across the Mobjack... again

Day 7

I snuck out of the Severn River around 8 and, with a light breeze pushing us from the west, Annie ran off under her main only. For an hour I listened to the bow push into a swell, followed by the rippling sound of the wave under the stern as it caught up in the troughs. The wind slowly waned and for a while we ghosted eastward. I reflected on the past days and the forty years that has passed since I first started sailing single-handed. It has been an extremely important part of my life. Many of my closest ties to nature, scariest challenges and spiritual teachings. And a helluva good time.

The wind died completely. We motored up the last bit of the Mobjack and up the East River. The ramp was empty and my truck sat waiting alone in the parking lot. After loading and dropping the rig I drove the few miles to Morningstar Marina where Annie would spend the foreseeable future covered in the adjacent field.

Total trip   147 n.miles

Heading West

Day 6

I woke to calm at first light. Motoring out the cut at King's Creek the wind had picked up to 15 out of the SW. The water was a a mottled mix of grayed olive and muted mix of cobalt and ultramarine flicked with bright white sparkles. High tide was scheduled for 1100.

As I studied the chart it seemed that continuing to head south was over cautious. It was 0900 and Annie was making good way toward Plantation Flats. With two feet charted over the bar I threw her to port and, with the board down, held the take up line to feel the bottom if needed. Moving along on a close reach, ready to hard a lee.

No bumps. Nothing, just fine sailing. So we headed toward the 'parked' ships and on across the Bay to the Mobjack. I tightened the headsail and slacked the main and mizzen a bit, and Annie self-steered with a loose tiller all the way across.

 

The wind dropped to 5-7 at GC 'INP' off New Point Comfort. Again, somewhat like the trip over, we had worked a half mile or so too far north. Several tacks south led to a west turn at the lighthouse and a long afternoon of sailing across the Mobjack to the Severn... the westernmost feeder river. Anchored off Bar Neck for the night. Perfect day I'll have to say.

New Point Comfort Light

Up the Cherrystone

A Later Trip continued...
Day 5

Awoke to a beautiful, crisp day. What a week for sailing.

Enjoyed cleaning and organizing before heading up King's Creek for a look. Took it slow for there were lots of tight curves and suspected shoals. Very quiet. The track on the 'ole Garmin 76 insured a quicker return.

Up King's Creek

I then set out north for the entrance to Cherrystone Inlet. The run up the creek isn't well marked and an incoming tide not only pushed us along but added water underneath and afforded a bit of time to escape a grounding. Using the 5 foot bamboo pole we progressed slowly sounding often.

No yachts or recreational vessels in sight. Several watermen came and went in the oyster farming rigs laden with equipment and traps.

Setting piles for clip line to secure traps. The cylinder is a sorting tube.

I expect extra wraps were for shallow water

Crew of three taking in scow-type working boat with oyster traps

Using the track we returned to King's Creek for the night awaiting a return crossing.

Crossing Over

The outlaw dock

I awoke before light and sculled down creek through glassy water, setting sails just as dawn broke. The weather forecast was perfect and I had decided the night before to head east for Cape Charles on the Eastern Shore. There had been talk about a fantastic harvest moon. That news was accurate.

Getting out early for a Bay crossing seems to be best choice. Just don't know what you might come up against and daylight is key. It didn't really matter this day for it could not have been a better sailing day. Wind SSE at 5-8 knots.

4 1/2 hours later we crossed the shipping channel. There were five large ships anchored along the channel. More about that later. SE wind had put us north of the approach that ran inside the bar just south of Cape Charles harbor. Futile tacks against incoming tide. Motored south to Old Plantation Light and caught wind north inside the bar and rock breakwater that protected the harbor entrance. 

Abandoned rail spur, Cape Charles

I tied up at the city pier and walked into town to look for possible galleries to represent my maritime paintings. Found two that may have promise. One gallery owner said that the tankers and container ships have been anchoring off Cape Charles because the Navy in Norfolk closed off the staging area for ships waiting to pick up cargo. Seems that the locals, especially those recently purchasing large retirement homes on the shore, are not at all happy about the new vista. Oh well.

Sultana from Chesetrtown

SY Meteor, George Town, Bahamas. 100+ footer!

As the afternoon wore on Annie and I headed just north of town and anchored in King's Creek. Peaceful evening with another amazing moon.       27.3 nm

Crab Cake

Ware River sunset

Temperatures warmed a bit overnight. A welcome change in that the previous night in the North River had dropped to 48° (F). So the second sleeping bag found itself back under the fore deck. Mountain House Breakfast Skillet, strong coffee with a splash of Irish, plenty of feeding dolphins, and a watercolor sketch made for a swell breakfast.

By 9:30, with wind out of the ENE at 10 knots, we were heading southeast through the Mobjack. Rounding Guinea Marshes I decided to head south for the traditional boat building area of Seaford and Poquoson.

Crossing Mobjack Bay on a beautiful day

Light downwind run across the York River... resorted to motoring into the Poqouson River and north up Chisman Creek. There were boat projects in progress.

 

 

 

Being that there was no restaurants around and I was hankering for seafood, I turned Annie south again. Crossed over Poquoson River, entered Lambs Creek and tied up at York Haven Marina. Had been there a few years back and wanted to take more pictures of decaying work boats. Its a gold mine.

My friend Dave Rollins restored the buyboat Linda Carol in the yard. She was tied to the dock looking mighty fine. 'Spartina' Steve photographed the boat for the Virginia Pilot back in July.  See the images here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The restaurant Surf Rider was just across the creek. Dave had brought me with the crew of the F.D. Crockett buyboat here and I new there was a crab cake worth ordering... 

 

The Hokule'a was docked there. She is one of Hawaii's outreach vessels that travels around the world. The crew are young folks that seemed to be off traveling.

 

It was dark when dinner was over and a good anchorage was close by wasn't apparent. I decided to stay on a finger pier as an outlaw. Oh well.