It must be Watmough

It was good to take a break from all the sailing motoring from the past few days. It was also good to have a new place to hang out for the work week. We had sailed past Watmough Bay a few times in our past, but it never really fit into our schedule then. Now, it was a perfect stop over point. We pulled in after sunset so anchored pretty far off the shoreline. The furthest of all other boats in fact. That’s fine by us, we prefer the quiet and solitude over convenience so we leave the crowds (and their generators) to cram closer to the shoreline.

Over the course of our work-week stay the weather-slash-smoke still kept the sun and stars away. Occasionally we would get just a glimpse of the sun, but my mid week we were forced to run the motor for an hour to charge up our battery bank. Earlier in the year we upgraded to a 100 amp alternator, and “beefcaked” up the wiring, so the power just poured in. It always feels so stressful with the engine running, and Kerri sits just a few feet from it while working. I can at least get the length of the boat away to calm my nerves. It’s good that it doesn’t need to stay running for hours to get the batteries topped up.

We did get another visit from John and Kate in Stardust, who took a ball closer to the shoreline. Some minor socializing ensued – usually just in passing – until our final night when all four of us decided to have desert on the beach together. Folding chairs were brought out, a few cocktails, and I made home-made (from a box) brownies for all. Kate and John brought a freshly baked berry pie and ice cream. We feasted on sugar while the sun set, eventually turning the sky solid black. The only things to be seen were the anchor lights of the boats in Watmough Bay. Our dinghy ride back to the boat was accompanied by the bioluminescence being stirred up by the little prop.

Finally, to add to our new sailing-credibility, we had our first experience being woken up by our bilge pump informing us that we were sinking. At 1 AM we heard the pump activate – which it will do automatically if the water reaches a critical (to us) level. Kerri jumped out of bed (I followed soon after, but she will this part of the story differently) and found that we had water under our floor boards, which is not normal. After a few minutes searching, we found the source; a hose from a previously extricated salt-water hand pump that was removed in early 2019. The pump didn’t work because the hose was clogged. Not any more! It magically unplugged itself and was now allowing sea water into our boat. After plugging it with a stubby screwdriver (the right tool for the right job) and clamping it in place, we went back to bed. No worries… we are salty AF.

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2 Responses

  1. Michael says:

    Hey Guys, I am off Point Sal near Santa Maria and saw a big sailboat, 5 miles offshore heading south with 15 knot stern quartering winds. That dude was moving! probably close to the size of your boat….just thinking that the prevailing winds have been NW for at least 5 days now at 15 knots and what fun you would have moving south now to avoid winter doom and gloom since you’re salty AF. Me, USCG 21 years, retired and always thought Bahia Magdelena in Baja would be an awesome place to winter if I had a boat like yours, just a thought.

    • Tim says:

      I with you Michael. I’m ready to start moving south, then west across the pacific. Kerri really has her eyes set on Canada and Alaska before we leave the PNW (which I can not disagree with, as we ill never be back up here) so we are sticking around at least one more year trying to accomplish it, or at least part of it before turning south.

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