CHAPTER EIGHTY: BACK IN NORFOLK, ICW MILE MARKER 0

CHAPTER EIGHTY: BACK IN NORFOLK, ICW MILE MARKER 0

Sipping lukewarm Good Earth tea on a cold, blustery Saturday, May 25, wearing my long pants and hooded sweatshirt – oh for the day – just a week ago – when I was slathering on the sunscreen in my shorts and t top. According to David, the Rebel Marine dock master, the weather these past two months in Virginia has been “unpredictable”, read: bad. Everyone at the marina has cabin fever. A couple on a trawler got their provisions to take a leisurely cruise up the James River this weekend. Then David and the Admiral suggested that 2 to 3 foot waves and a headwind of 20 knots might cut into the fun factor a bit. The levelheaded member of that team, almost always the woman, immediately revised the weekend plans, at least mentally, while the guy allowed as how it wouldn’t be that bad. Looks like their trawler is still here at mid-morning. How cold is it? It was in the 40’s this morning. We had heaters going in the salon and main bedroom. We ate piping hot breakfast burritos (five eggs!), and I’m about to put on gloves to write this Blog. Aw, quit your bellyachin’, right? It’s not like it’s Moore, Oklahoma. Moment of silence.

The AARP asked me for a donation to a relief fund for the Moore citizens affected by the mega-tornado. I get it that we Americans pull together in times of tragedy and everyone does his/her share, but if I had the power to direct the use of my tax dollars, certainly they would go first and foremost to emergency relief funds, then Planned Parenthood and the SPCA. I’m a bit tired of seeing most of my taxes go toward the purchase of weapons of war and destruction. Our defense budget is bigger than the defense budgets of the next fourteen countries behind us – together! Sequestration has just made a dent in this bloated. wasteful, inefficient bureaucracy called the Pentagon. I’m not talking about the troops – God knows they’re grossly underpaid and poorly outfitted, and we have never put enough money into veterans’ health care. I’m talking about all these war planes and war ships and drones and bombs and tanks and “state of the art” weapons. Fugedaboudit. It’s time for the Biblical commandment to turn swords into plowshares. Oh yes, if I ruled the world, there would be some major changes. Programs to combat global warming first and foremost – because the rest is not important, if we can’t live and thrive on Mother Earth any more.

This brings me to a regional election of national importance – the governorship of Virginia is up for grabs this year. One candidate, Attorney General Cuccinelli, thinks global warming is a hoax. Do you need to know any more about him? Oh, maybe the fact that he has taken “gifts” from businesses and not reported them, at least when he first received them. But really, all you need to know is that he is so stupid or unread, or just plain ignorant, that he can’t grasp the simple scientific facts that explain global warming. The more malevolent take is that he may know deep in his mind that global warming is a major threat, but he has been bought by the energy industry to spread the gospel according to Big Oil, Big Gas and Big Coal. Either way, this is not a person who is fit for any office, let alone the position of Governor of Virginia. Yet, he leads in the polls. His opponent, Mr. McAuliffe, has never run for office before, although he headed the Democratic Party, and that appears to be his main “sin” in the eyes of his attackers. Of course, as a Democrat, he must be a free spender looking for that 47% who are dependent on the government and will vote for a Democrat no matter what. Well, he’s not a “free spender” and he knows that global warming is real and that we must reduce our carbon emissions (finally hit the 400 mark – yippee!). Don’t even get me started on the “vaginal probes” that Republican legislators in Virginia spent nearly all their time in session last year trying to make the law of the Commonwealth. Just do what you can to stop Cuccinelli, that’s all. If it means an out of state donation, so be it. The League of Conservation Voters will be glad to take your money. Funny fact: A recent headline states that Cuccinelli has ordered a “probe” of the current Republican governor, McDonnell, for his habit of accepting “gifts”. One can only hope that this is a very penetrating “probe”, and when it is completed, an independent prosecutor will in turn do a “probe” of Cuccinelli. Give each of them a taste of their own medicine. Cuccinelli is the troglodyte who has called the birth control benefit included in federal health care insurance programs “the sterilization mandate.” Please defeat this guy – for your own peace of mind.

For those of you who enjoy only the travel portions of this Blog, and not the rants, here is what we’ve been doing in Slow Motion for the past week. We returned from our road trip late Tuesday, and the Admiral began checking all his weather, wind and current apps on the I Pad to see when we could continue heading north to Solomons, Maryland. He reported that we were going to have major thunderstorms, wind, and rain on Wednesday and Thursday – we did – but that Friday it was predicted to be clear and not so windy – in the morning. Now what this always means (“in the morning”) is that we plan to leave before dawn and reach our destination well before noon, before the winds kick up and turn Slow Motion into an amusement park ride. I called Rebel Marine in Norfolk and spoke with David, the tugboat captain and co-owner of the marina, asking whether we could tie up on Friday and Saturday at our “usual” space. We have been there twice before. Luckily, it was available those two days, but he expected a boater on the 26^th to tie up there for a month. Whew! This marina has very few transient spots. So if the forecast for Friday held, we knew we would have our spot.

Then we called the oh so popular Dozier’s at Regatta Point in Deltaville, where they serve you pancakes and waffles for breakfast, prepared by the dock master himself. This is Memorial Day Weekend, so I wasn’t optimistic about getting a spot with them. However, they are always so accommodating and they said they would “make room” for us this weekend, if we made it there. They even accepted our arrival date of “maybe Friday, Saturday, or Sunday, depending on the weather.” And finally, we had to find out if Calvert Marina in Solomons would have room on their floating docks for us on Monday. Greg gave us the okay on a Monday arrival. Now all we needed was a little cooperation from the weather.

On Thursday evening, the Admiral spoke with the Atlantic Yacht Basin dock master about getting fuel the next morning at 5 a.m. before taking off for Rebel Marine in Norfolk. He said “no problem” and wrote it down on the board for the midnight shift dock master to be prepared for us. At about 4:15 a.m. – yes, very, very dark inside Slow Motion, which was still inside the cavernous boat shed – the Admiral got up and found the dock master, who came back with him around 4:30 a.m. to help us ease Slow Motion out of the shed, without the use of the engines. This was easier than we had thought. Slow Motion is tall enough to nearly graze the wooden rafters that bow in from the sides of the roof, but there was no contact Friday morning, and we were stealthily creeping out of our cave and motoring toward the fuel dock on the waterway by 4:50 a.m. Slow Motion has an awesome searchlight, which led the way to the fuel dock. The dock itself is extremely well lit, eerily so, and we eased our way up to the pilings and tied up as quietly as a 19 ton behemoth can do this maneuver. I got the incredibly important job of “pumpout” – this means hooking up a hose to our sewage tank and sucking the waste out of it. Apparently this is one of the chief jobs of the Captain Aspirant. With my latex gloves and a clothes pin on my nose (gloves, yes, clothes pin, no), I did the dirty deed. Next we took on 200.9 gallons of diesel fuel for a mere $650.00. This is the best price on the waterway at the moment. Kudos to Atlantic Yacht Basin for staying competitive.

We were a couple football fields away from the Great Bridge, which has its first opening at 6 a.m. So we waited on the fuel dock until 5:50 and then headed toward the bridge, asking the bridge tender to let us pass at his 6 a.m. opening. Surprisingly, there were no other boats waiting for this opening. In the days we have spent at AYB, it is a source of entertainment to run to the side of the channel shortly before the hour to see all the big cruisers and sailboats jockey for position on both sides of the Great Bridge, as they wait impatiently for the opening. The 10 a.m. opening is extremely popular. The 6 a.m. opening not so much. The funniest exchange was heard between the captain of a medium sized cruiser (45 feet) and the captain of a tugboat pushing a huge barge: the cruiser captain radioed to tell the tugboat that he wanted to go through the bridge first. Silence. It wasn’t really an exchange. The cruiser captain said this about 3 times. No response. Seriously, do you expect a tugboat captain pushing a huge barge to try to hold his position until Mr. Upstart moves his dinky cruiser under the bridge? It didn’t happen. Chutzpah or cluelessness: it’s a toss-up. Just don’t mess with a tugboat pushing a barge.

With no barges in sight, not even a sailboat on an early start, we cruised through Great Bridge at the 6 a.m. opening and immediately headed toward the Great Bridge Lock, just a short ways further north. We entered the Lock by ourselves and tied up on the starboard side. This is the third time we have tied up in the Great Bridge Lock. I’m never going to take any part of this adventure for granted. However, it is so much easier, unbelievably so, each time we re-visit a place. We know what is expected of us. We know that in this Lock the water level drops a mere 18 inches, so we don’t need to have a death grip on the lines to hold us next to the side of the Lock. This third time was a piece of cake. We glided smoothly out of the Lock when it opened and headed for Steel Bridge two and a half miles away and its 7 a.m. opening. We were assured that if we arrived before 7, the bridge tender would let us through. This is a critical opening, because after this, the bridge is closed to EVERY BOAT from 7 a.m. to 9 a.m. In this 2.5 mile stretch, we had plenty of time to make the 7 a.m. opening, barring any unforeseen tree stumps attacking our propellers. This part of the waterway has a lot of things that stick out of the water, metal and wood, so you have to always be on guard. While watching for hazards, I also noticed that the cottony clouds from the sky were mirrored perfectly in the water and snapped a few shots of that phenomenally beautiful sight. The water was glass, so the trees were mirrored in it, the bridges, the birds, the sun – it was two worlds coming together at the water line. And you should have seen the giant blue herons that were flying behind us. You had to be there. Another amazing dawn, as the sun glimmered through the trees and rose above them as a huge golden ball.

The Steel Bridge is being replaced by a taller one, so there are barges and construction crews everywhere. But on this day, we had the pleasure of cruising through at the 7 a.m. opening, again the only boat on this part of the waterway. Maybe next year the bridge tender will be out of work, or will have moved on to another low bridge. That’s what has already happened with the dreaded Gilmerton Bridge, three miles north of the Steel Bridge, which was always being closed for repairs. Not anymore. The NEW Gilmerton Bridge has traded in the puny vertical clearance of 11 feet, sported by the OLD Bridge, for a generous 35 feet vertical clearance. No more requests for openings. No more worries about sudden closures. No more checking the schedule to see if it is closed from 6 to 8 or 7 to 9 or 3 to 5 or 4 to 6 or just plain closed for no reason at all. Did it open on the hour, the half hour, the quarter hour? Who cares? Slow Motion is 19 feet tall, and we don’t have to wait a single microsecond for an opening. Hurray! Maybe the third time is the charm, at least with the Gilmerton Bridge.

Once we got past the new Gilmerton Bridge, we cruised with some trepidation closer to the Norfolk Harbor, which is at Mile Marker 0 on the ICW. We listened for the radio traffic on Channel 16 and learned that a “warship” had entered the Harbor and announced its intentions of docking at Pier 14. I rushed to the charts to try to find Pier 14, so that we could avoid blocking its pathway. How silly – the notion that Slow Motion could block the pathway of a gigantic US Navy warship. Okay, more accurately, we wanted to avoid being made mincemeat by this battling behemoth. The docks we were passing were lettered, not numbered, so we did not find Pier 14 immediately, and no warship loomed in front of us. We saw a large cruise ship – “Carnival Glory” – how ironic. Recently the Carnival cruises have not been very glorious. We saw a lot of naval ships, carriers, destroyers “parked” at piers, with security boats flashing their blue lights to keep us 500 yards from the ships. The only problem with the 500 yard rule is that the channel is not even 100 yards wide, so it’s impossible to be 500 yards away. At any moment we expected to be yelled at over a loudspeaker to pull over for boarding. Besides the security boats, there were marine police zipping up and down the harbor waters. There were one or two other “pleasure boats” like ours trying to negotiate the harbor. But we saw only one big container ship, Hyundai, and we happened to be going in the same direction, so we fell in behind her. If any ship could stand up to a USN warship, this loaded container ship could.  

The container ship picked up steam, as the two tugboats – one on each side – peeled off from it. And we were left on our own. There was one other small boat like ours behind us about 100 yards. Then suddenly we heard on Channel Sixteen this booming voice: “Pleasure boat heading north, Captain, this is US Naval Warship 75 coming in to dock at Pier 7. Move to our starboard side, NOW.” We were already along the port side the warship, and we looked over to the dock on our starboard side. Sure enough, there was Pier 7. Did Warship 75 really want us to back up and move to her starboard side? We looked back and saw the other boat that had been behind us make a sharp maneuver to head to the starboard side of the warship, and we knew we were home free. Disaster averted – Warship 75 was talking to the only other “pleasure boat” in the area. We got past Pier 7, and we saw Warship 75 make its turn into that pier, crossing our formidable wake (yeah, sure). What is amazing is that we share the same waterway with these titans. We’re the Lilliputians trying with all our might to stay out of Gulliver’s way. This particular warship was lined with sailors all along the deck, ready to jump on to land as soon as the first line was secured. They must have been away for a long time. Welcome home, sailors.

Norfolk Harbor is one of the busiest harbors on the East Coast. I think they have the most naval vessels. According to Wikipedia, Norfolk is the largest naval base in the world. We cruised by at least a dozen enormous US Navy ships in their docks. I can sort of imagine the experience of crossing the ocean in a ship that size, because long ago I crossed the northern Atlantic, going to Europe and back from New York City, in the SS Bremerhaven, a floating hotel (check that, a floating city of hotels). But those crossings each lasted not more than a week or so. And we did not get involved in any “hostilities” with other nations. We had rough water, and everyone, including the crew, was throwing up on the way back to NYC. But no one was shooting at us from the air, the ground, another ship, or a submarine. All we Americans ever have to think of is Pearl Harbor and the USS Arizona and we know the dangers of serving on a military vessel. A salute to all who join the Navy and defend our country, here and abroad.

As we carefully weave our way through Norfolk Harbor, I wonder what it’s like in Baltimore Harbor, Philadelphia Harbor and New York City Harbor. I hope we can visit some or all of them this summer, and I’ll report the experiences so you can re-live them with us. Harbors are special places. You can really tell if a coastal city is prospering, or not, by the activity in its harbor. Norfolk looks pretty prosperous, Charleston less so. Defense dollars are still pouring into Norfolk, but for how long is anybody’s guess. Sequestration has caused some civilians working in the defense industry to take furloughs, but all the major contracts are still in place. It will take a few years to see the full economic effect of the sequestration cutbacks. And by then, we may be in another way. Iran, anyone? I’m not in favor, strongly not in favor, of going to war – with any country at any time. But our leaders seem to have this predilection to start a war whenever we need to boost our economy at home. Please remember, you guys and gals who get elected, the Bible says: Swords into plowshares, swords into plowshares. Peace in our time!