CHAPTER THIRTY TWO: SHOULD WE GO, OR SHOULD WE STAY?

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO: SHOULD WE GO, OR SHOULD WE STAY?

Well, here we were at Rebel Marine in Norfolk, having arrived on a smooth mirror of water under a brilliant sun. The next morning, the mirror was broken into lots of choppy waves and the sky was red. “Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning.” Should we go, or should we stay? Severe thunderstorms were predicted for the afternoon – was that 12:01 p.m.? or 5:01 p.m.? That’s right, meteorologists don’t have to be precise, or even accurate, to keep their jobs. So at 7:00 a.m. we decided to decide at 8:00 a.m. And at 8:00 a.m. we were heading out of Willoughby Spit into the great unknown weather patterns – we were told to expect a lot of wind and a lot of rain sometime today. The forecast for Tuesday was a whole lot of wind – very scientific. So we picked the devil we thought we knew, because our experience heading north instructed us that it can only get worse.

Add to the weather uncertainty the crazy quilt opening times of the GILMERTON BRIDGE, THE STEEL BRIDGE, THE GREAT BRIDGE LOCK AND THE GREAT BRIDGE, not to mention the suddenly unpredictable railroad bridges that open and close by remote control on a whim or if a train is coming. The GILMERTON BRIDGE is a very low, old bridge that is being replaced in this century, perhaps even before October next year. In the meantime, boaters are at the mercy of the bridgemaster. Today she was merciful.  We only had a 10 minute wait, and there were only 4 other boats waiting with us. A few days ago, Michael reported to Jake that 29 boats had lined up to go through Gilmerton – what a logjam! So our five boat armada was nothing.  Once through Gilmerton, it was on to the Steel Bridge 3 miles away. Gilmerton opens every hour between 9:30 and 3:30 on the half hour. And the Steel Bridge opens on the hour. So you have to go a certain speed – slow – to get to the Steel Bridge 3 miles and 30 minutes away. The motor cat in front of us was like one of those cars which always zooms past you in the slow lane to get to the next red light ahead of you – so he/she can wait longer at the red light ostensibly. So Motor Cat charged off down the Elizabeth River to get to the Steel Bridge before us, and he/she was – surprise! – cooling his cat heels, when we approached.

Steel Bridge – again no problem. What were we worried about? Perhaps getting to the Great Bridge Lock, 2.5 miles away, and trying to figure out which side of the lock we wanted to tie up on. Did we need fenders, didn’t we? Decisions, decisions. And I bet you thought cruising was so easy: just put the boat on autopilot and read a book. Nosirree. The Admiral is always thinking, always planning for the next part of the journey. We had to go even slower to get to the Lock, which opens on the half hour. Naturally Cat Man/Cat Woman, charged ahead again, but he was slowed down by a tiny motor boat from Vermont that filled the narrow cut we entered a little before the Lock. The Lock is tricky, but very cool. Especially tricky today, as the Lock lady passed out Halloween trick or treat candy (yum). Vermont and Cat Man/Woman tied up on one side of the Lock, so we naturally tied up on the other, where we had to use our own fenders. The change in water level was slight today, just about ½ foot, according to our trick or treater. When we went through the Lock, heading north the change in the level was two feet. You don’t actually “tie up” in the lock; you give a bow line and a stern line to the Lock lady and she puts it around a cement post, and you hold on to the end and keep your boat next to the Lock wall. Then they raise or lower the water, as needed, and after that’s done, they open the gate at the opposite end to let you out. You feel like you’re in a big swimming pool when the gates at both ends are closed. I don’t know who invented locks, but they are neat, even if the water level change is only ½ foot.

I don’t suppose that Great Bridge Lock provides much preparation for the locks on the Panama Canal, or even the Erie Canal, but the principle is the same, even though the procedures for getting through those waterways must be far more complex. Imagine looking over and seeing an ocean liner or a commercial container ship across the way in the same lock with you. That would be eerie – or Panama – okay, one pun every 30 blogs is not too much to stomach.

One glitsch while we waited in the Lock. A sailor radioed that he was just 8/10 of a mile away, would the Lockmaster be so kind as to keep the Lock gate open for 10 minutes until his arrival? And this Lockmaster was. Hey, nobody asked us if it was okay to wait for this slacker. Okay, okay, that’s not the etiquette of boater friendliness we have been learning.  However, can everybody just be on time? All these schedules are posted everywhere. Even the Lockmaster got a little testy with the last minute request, pointing out that the sailor didn’t look like he was even trying to move fast. Still, we waited. And we’re better people for it. Not!

Fortunately, the Great Bridge waited for us, as we waited for the slowpoke sailor. And right beyond the Great Bridge is our marina in the tall pines, the Atlantic Yacht Basin, with the best little marine store this side of Ft. Lauderdale West Marine. The Admiral has hidden my credit cards, so I cannot buy any more specialized boat cleaners. Probably a good idea – there’s no more room in storage for cleaners. Right now the Admiral is cleaning the bird poop off the isinglass in the front of the flying bridge. See? I don’t have all the scullery work. When there’s a chance I might scratch the isinglass, the Admiral eliminates the risk by rising to the task. On the one hand, I wish I weren’t so klutzy (or perceived as klutzy). On the other hand, the Admiral cleaning bird poop? Priceless.

This marina has a long face dock, which is fixed, not floating. Since there is no noticeable tide, there is no need for a floating dock. There is a huge boatyard off the face dock, where lots of boats are stored and others are being repaired. But the transients, like us, pull up along the face dock, pretty boats all in a row. What’s a face dock? It’s a long dock, where you can “parallel park”, if you will, one boat in front of the other. I used to call it a “dock face”, but I’m learning these terms – partly through usage, and partly through embarrassment at saying the wrong term.

OMG – the Admiral is on a cleaning binge! I’ve got to check this out. And he says I’m OCD. One of the benefits of cruising for a half day instead of a full day is that you have time to do boat maintenance – or write a blog chapter. Will the Admiral get all the dirt off the canvas covering the forward windows? I’ll let you know in the next blog. Stay well, eat healthy, and don’t go out in thunderstorms.