new boat

To sum up, I have moved back to Wisconsin.  Being in the state adjacent to the only of the Great Lakes all the way within the borders of the U.S. of A means that I can't survive for long without a boat.  The reason for my relocation was to start up my own little boat rental operation on the beach in Sheboygan.  I spent all of my money procuring licenses, insurance, kayaks, a sail boat, a jet ski, a tent, a table, and all that jazz.  Things were looking up.  I was to spend my summer living on the beach, growing out my facial hair, and perfecting my tan.  I got started as soon as I could, which ended up being my downfall.  For those of you not familiar with Wisconsin in May, it's much like everywhere else...in March.  We have our good years and our bad years.  This turned out to be a little chilly.  I had a hard time getting people to go out on "the big lake" while I was huddled up under my awning in a parka.  Some days were sunny and lovely, others were just too plain cold to sit out there.  I enjoyed being a beach bum though.  I had hours on end to sit and read books.  I was able to chill shirtless at work, and randomly do push-ups whenever I wanted.  One of the downsides was that I was usually alone, and whenever I had to run to the bathroom I left all of my gear out in the open.  The Sheboygan beachfront is pretty harmless though.
After about two months, and only five rentals, I was negative enough in my account to realize it was best to put the horse out of its misery.
I started work again selling cars and was able to dig out of that financial hole for the most part, and as I always do, I began perusing Craigslist in search of a new boat.  I am always looking for something that can convey me to far off horizons in relative comfort and safety.  There are any number of small trailer/sailors that would be nice to haul to remote lakes and have fun with for a day or so, but I want an ocean crosser.  Every so often I find a deal that's too good to be true.  Growing up I often would find ads in the newspaper for a Free Boat.  What I didn't understand at the time was that if a boat is literally being given away, there probably isn't much it's good for other than killing a spot of grass on your lawn.
As I was searching, I came across an ad for a boat I had never heard of before, a Glander Cay.  It was $1,700 (which is about what I paid for my last boat) and it had a lot of things included that I had to add to the Bristol 24.  Things like sails, a mast already stepped, proof that it floated, a mooring, and engine, proper rigging.  In fact, this one seemed to be built every bit as solidly as my Bristol.  In the pictures I could see that it had a full keel, and a rudder hung on the transom.  This is an advantage over my last boat because it meant that I would be able to easily inspect, repair, or replace the rudder if damaged.  Also it means that there are no holes running through the hull that could leak.  The outboard motor looked nice (and proved invaluable later).  I kept an eye on the ad.  I couldn't see much from the pictures of the interior, but I could only assume it was in rough shape.
The value seemed too good to be true, and so I waited.  In a couple weeks the price dropped from $1,700 to $700.  That was it, I had to have it.  There was no way I couldn't come out ahead.  I mean, I would have to pay for insurance, and storage, and inevitable repairs, but I was starting out way ahead of my last vessel.  I called the guy and set up a time to go see it.  He said I was first in line, but it was too dang hot to show the boat, so I'd have to wait for the next week.  I get impatient once I've got it in my head to do something, but in this situation it turned out to be a good thing that I had to wait.  In the week I waited, the price dropped from $700 to $500.  Yes I was suspicious, I'm not an idiot, and I know if a boat that looks like it should be $3,000 is being sold for $500 it's probably in the process of sinking.
I drove down to the marina and met a nice man with a ponytail named Jeff.  He had the Glander pulled up to the boat ramp.  She looked great...from about 50 feet away.  There was a gleaming bright varnished bow sprit, and a wooden mast ladder running up the shrouds (she looked like a pirate ship to me).  As I got closer, I noticed that the paint job had a certain 'unprofessional' appearance to it.  The white base coat was showing through the dark green contrasting layer.  That would need to be addressed.  The main hatch was a curved piece of transparent lexan with wooden braces.  Cool.
As I went below I saw where the real grunt work was required.  You see, some boats are completely finished from the factory, others are left "open to interpretation" by the manufacturer.  Glander was a father and son boat building company in Florida building boats that would do well around the Florida Keys and the Bahamas.  It has a very shallow draft (doesn't stick down too far in the water) but is very heavy so it's stable, won't tip over, and can take a beating.  This boat had been left with an unfinished interior.  Jeff, the second owner, had done a few things here and there to get it to his liking, but had never really finished it.  The original square windows had been replaced with round opening ports.  They looked great from the outside, but on the inside it was a mishmash of plywood and planks.  There was no head (toilet) and the stove (which was on a gimbal so that soup doesn't spill as you're pounding over waves) was mounted right over where a seat or berth (bed) should be.  The one nice thing is that all the cushions were there, and there was plenty of storage.  The wiring hadn't been run yet, and there was no modern conveniences on board.  My Bristol really had nothing wired either, so it seemed with both boats I was working with what they would have in the 1800's.  Hull, rudder, sails.  I loved it.
After an hour sea trial I closed the deal.  To be honest it was listed for $499, and Jeff gave me back a dollar for good luck.  He told me that he had had the boat since 1998 and had sailed it up from the Florida keys, through the St. Lawrence seaway, and down to Milwaukee.  This was just the kind of news I wanted to hear to know that this boat had some serious cruising chops to back up her awkward and bulky appearance.
She's about 2 feet longer in the hull than my Bristol, and almost 2 feet wider.  She's another 1,000 pounds heavier, and is 6" shallower in the draft.  I think she'll be just the thing to finally take me over to England.  Click here to learn more and help out.
I've already taken her on some adventures and cruises.  More on that later.

Vacation Time

My boat is back in the water and ready for action.  I have gone from having a mooring in Milwaukee to a mooring in Oconto.  It is a little over an hour north of me, but it's still close enough that I can get out for a good sail if I have the day off.
I was planning on selling the boat because...well, that's what I do.  Posting it online was all too easy.  Adding pictures to the ebay listing, or the ad on craigslist made me nitpick and see all of the imperfections that I realized would make her difficult to sell.  One day I decided to head up and make sure nothing had been damaged over the winter months.  I hadn't been on my boat since October, and here I was well into June before making my first visit.  As soon as I saw my Glander Cay, I began to have reservations about selling her.  Instantly upon stepping aboard I realized that I didn't want anyone else to have her.  I had gotten such a good deal on a boat that not many would appreciate, and up to that point in the year, all I could think of was dollar signs.  Once I saw the potential again first hand, I pretty much decided that I'd hang onto her until I was offered six times what I paid for her, or until she was not longer fit to sail.  A good solid hull that is as well traveled as this one is not usually cheap.  Anyway.
The mooring was fairly inexpensive, and it meant that I could get out on the Bay much quicker because I wouldn't have to motor down the river all the way from Hi-Seas Marina.  It also meant that I had to find a way to get out to my boat without a dock.  Previously it had been warm, and I was accustomed to placing my clothes in a drybag, and swimming out to my boat.  The first time I had done this was the night I tied her to the new mooring.  I had motored the mile or so from the marina to the mooring, tied off, and tidied up a bit.  To get to shore I swam, fought through the reeds and lily pads, then changed back into my clothes in a nearby restroom.  The bright green drybag I had picked up with my Cabela's gift card did wonderfully.  My clothes were still bone dry.  I began my hike back in the rain down the dark county road.  I made it most of the way there before getting picked up by a kind man in a Ford Ranger.  The interior of his truck suggested that he was a chain smoker.  He explained to me that he was just doing his second good deed for the day.
Fast forward to now.  I found out that I get a week's paid vacation because I have been at my current job for over a year.  Time off being like money in my pocket burning to be used up, I took the first available week in September to do a cruise.  I wanted to take advantage of what little "warm" weather we have left.  Wisconsin has been insufferably cold and wet this summer, and I had a feeling that sailing in October again would not be nearly as pleasant as last year.
The plan is to leave on Monday, sail up through the Green Bay, and stop at islands along the way.  Chamber's island is about 6 hours away from Oconto.  Washington Island is another 6 north of that.  After sleeping on one of these little beauties, I will get to go up and explore Rock Island, St. Martins Island, Plum Island, Poverty Island, and many others.  The area is known as Death's Door, or Porte Des Morts by the French.  After studying the cruising charts I can begin to see why there are over 250 shipwrecks in such a small area.  The Niagara Escarpment (the rock the giant falls are carved out of) extends past the tip of the peninsula and occasionally juts up into an island.  There are multitudes of rocky shoals near the islands.  The depth quickly goes from 100' to 3' in some areas.  I'm sure I'll be glad to have such a shallow draft boat designed for island hopping.

Strictly Sail

Recently in Chicago they had a boat show entirely devoted to sailboats.  I had to go.
Luckily for myself I had a spare day off of work saved up for just such an occasion.  One thing that I don't like about Chicago is that it takes about $5 in tolls to get there.  After navigating the horrendous downtown traffic, parking next to several exotic cars, and using a subway restaurant purely for the restroom, I was on my way to the boat show.  The windy city certainly earned its title that day as wind chills threatened to freeze my ears and nose off.  The idea that I was going to soon see so many new sailboats was more than enough to get me to walk briskly over to the Navy Pier.
I had never been to the Pier before, and I highly recommend it.  I'm not sure who's idea it was to put suck light things like 50 foot sailboats on the second floor while reserving the ground level for heavy artifacts like stained glass windows, but I digress.  As soon as I had my bright paper bracelet on my wrist I was off with my trusty DSLR camera to tour the sloops and take as many pictures as I could.  All around there were offerings from Catalina, Jeanneau, Benetau, Hunter, and many more.  Sizes ranged from tiny kayaks and inflatable dinghies on up to a Beneteau Sense 50.  I was in heaven.
Although I am a fan of old classic looking boats with long, full keels, I couldn't help but be awestruck at the beautiful dual helms, plumb bows, and beamy sterns of these modern racer cruisers.  It has always amazed me how much space can be found in a 30 by 10 space.  I am not quite sure if I can pick a favorite boat yet.  They each had their own charm.  The Blue Jacket 40 certainly seemed to be a favorite of the cruising community with its rich wood and chrome interior.  The Com Pac yachts had interesting choices in the sub-30 foot category.  One yacht of particular interest was the chubby Com Pac 23 Motor sailor.  With a stout pilot house one could choose either to steer with the tiller at the stern, or the shiny helm wheel tucked safely below.
Several vendors were set up pedaling their inflatable life jackets, propane powered outboards, carbon fiber winches and the like.  I did get to try my hand at grinding away on a large Harken pedestal winch.  I had the second fastest time [to do 20 revolutions] of the day.  
Some boats sacrificed all of the usable space in order to achieve greater speed.  A 27 foot boat that could hardly sleep two seems a bit of a waste to me, but I'm sure the racers out there can't understand how a cruiser can make due with such a heavy hull and such small sails.  I guess everyone has their own taste, and there's a craft for each.  As far as racers go, the most stunning boat of the day had to be the old Shields classone-design sloop.  A full keel racing boat with long over hangs and a very fine transom had all the telltale signs of boat plans drawn in a bygone era.  Favoring minimal wetted surface area over having a longer waterline was the norm back in the day.  Although it was one of those longer boats that are good for no more than racing and daysailing, I would take one in a heartbeat.
Pictures to follow.

Cruising for the first time

Well, this is what she looks like on paper.

I got the opportunity to take the new boat out sailing a few times with family members, but it was only a couple of little day sailing outings.  What I really wanted to do was put some miles under her keel and travel.  I knew I'd have to wait a while, but as I've said before, I'm impatient.
The Glander Cay was out on a mooring in the South Shore Yacht Club in Milwaukee.  A mooring is nice because it means I'm less likely to hit another boat in my marina maneuvers.  It's not quite as convenient as a dock because I can't just walk out to the boat, I have to row out.  In one of my less intelligent decisions, I sold my 8' rowing dinghy (since I had no immediate use for it) and so now I had to resort to a small inflatable raft to paddle out to my new boat.  It's not so much the physical effort I dislike, but it's the fact that I know I look like a landlubber fool cranking his $15 Walmart blow up boat out to his craigslist find sailboat. Appearances aside, I was glad I wasn't swimming.  Lake Michigan is never warm, but as you get later and later in the year, hypothermia becomes more and more of a commonplace term.
One day of no particular significance I decided to go sailing after work.  Work for me gets over at 8:00 at night.  I worked about 45 minutes away from the yacht club.  Combining the travel time and the time it took to blow up the raft, and paddle out to the Glander, and get her ready meant that I wasn't really pulling away from land too much before 10:30 at night.  The spartan trimmings of my new boat meant that she was not equipped with adequate navigational lights to venture out past sunset.  I had to resort to the portable lights that I had clipped onto my Bristol; it is a crude way of getting by, but a way nonetheless.  Not having enough time to stop back at home, or the foresight to bring a spare change of clothes left me sailing solo out of Milwaukee under full cover of night in dress shoes, slacks, and a polo shirt with my name one it.  Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't reconsider some of my life decisions.
Getting the sails set all by my lonesome was somewhat more difficult than it had been on my Bristol.  The Glander had two headsails vs. the one I was accustomed to , and they were both attached at the mid and end point of a six foot long bowsprit.  There is no netting to catch me if I slip off the bowsprit, no hand rail to steady myself against, and no one to notice if I fell in.  Luckily I have always fancied myself to be a bit of a waterman and I'm not afraid to trust my cozy dry clothes to all the balance that I can muster out of my butt cheeks.  I sat balanced precariously over the black water as I clipped each of the old bronze hasps to the forestay, and double checked that I had run the halyards properly.  Once the Jib (front sail) was set, I moved back to the deck and set about attaching the staysail (sail behind the jib, but in front of the mast).  Once both headsails were good to go I turned on the outboard motor, dropped the mooring lines and eased out of the harbor in relative silence.

This is what she looks like in daylight

Milwaukee has an amazing skyline from the water; its glow can be seen for many miles away.  I had been sailing for about three hours when I realized that the wind was really not helping me progress northwards at all.  I was trying to get home by the next morning so I could show my family the new boat, and as much as I tried with tacking, it didn't seem that I'd get there any time soon unless I cheated.  Around 2:00 in the morning I decided to motor sail.  Cranking up the motor and relying on the sails, I was able to make about 6 knots heading in the right direction.  On the one hand, I felt bad using the motor, on the other hand, it was nice to know I wasn't going to get stranded and miss a few days of work.

As the hours wore on, I played with the trim of the motor and the tiller to try and get her to track straight on her own, but with the outboard being off center, and the wind blowing, this task proved impossible.  I tried taking some pictures with my phone, but was unable until the sun came up.  Late into the night I kept myself awake by singing my own karaoke songs as loud as I could, and by reenacting the entire first Pirates of the Caribbean movie.  I'm not ashamed that I know all the lines by heart, or that my Elizabeth Swann sounds pretty dang convincing.  

As the first light of day started to creep over the horizon, the sky turned a brilliant contrast of burnt orange and teal.  There wasn't a cloud in sight but for the first time in hours I could make out the coastline.  I had sailed much further offshore than I had originally anticipated, and I knew it would take another two hours of just east to west travelling to make it into the port at Sheboygan.  No sooner did I start heading for shore than I came within three feet of an ominous buoy protruding from the surface of the water.  Based on my knowledge of the area, I think it was a marker for a shipwreck.  I would love to dive on a wreck sometime, but I have no interest in creating one of my own.  I stayed offshore a bit in case it was marking a reef.  Even though the Glander only draws 3' of water, I'd rather not take any risks.

After 13 hours of motoring I made it from Milwaukee to Sheboygan.  I found that the city maintains a small courtesy dock in the river for transient boaters such as myself who only need to tie up for a few hours.  Seeing as most of the boats were out of the water for the season, I thought it unlikely that I would be taking anyone's spot.  My cell phone had died, and since my family had no idea of when or where to expect me, I had to walk home.  The two or three miles seemed an eternity.  My legs were set in sea mode.  I had stood most of the journey to keep from falling asleep, and that combined with the fact that I had been awake for 30 hours meant that I was a cross between a zombie and a drunk ad I trudged home.  Standing in the shower on dry land proved to be more difficult than urinating off the side of the boat out on the waves.  Land sickness is a funny thing.  Help me get across the pond.