Bold New Look, Same Great Taste

by Jay on October 14, 2014 in Recipes

Take Two Sailing is now on WordPress. You may have noticed that our pictures widget disappeared from the right sidebar some time ago. It broke, and rather than figure out how to fix it, I upgraded the whole shebang.

Everything should be back to normal or better now. The pictures are back. We might be changing things around a bit, but for now I’ve gone for equivalency. If something doesn’t work, use the Contact page to let me know.

Patriot’s Point, Mt. Pleasant, SC

by Eli on September 22, 2014 in Recipes

The main exhibit at Patriot’s Point is an aircraft carrier, the U.S.S. Yorktown. Named after a previous aircraft carrier (possibly to confuse the Japanese during WWII), the Yorktown was commissioned in 1943 and decommissioned in 1975, when it was turned into a museum. While we were there, we toured the fire room, the engine room, the flight deck, and the bridge. I thought it was interesting to see how they navigated without computers. The various jet fighters on display were also cool. I felt like I could have spent another day looking at all the exhibits on the ship.

Another of the ships we toured was a destroyer, the U.S.S. Laffey. Named after a civil war hero, the Laffey is over 370 feet long and served in the Pacific during WWII. Later, it was decommissioned and turned into a museum ship. While we were there, we watched a video about how the Laffey repelled one of the largest Kamikaze attacks in history. Called “the ship that would not die,” the Laffey was hit by four bombs and six Kamikaze suicide pilots. Amazingly, the Laffey not only returned to base, but returned to service. Now it remains as a memorial to the brave souls who fought in the US Navy.

The Guppy III submarine, USS Clamagore, was the last thing we visited at Patriot’s Point. She is over 300 feet long, and the only Guppy III surviving as a museum. She is a diesel submarine, one of the last before the introduction of nuclear submarines. There were eight compartments, separated by waterproof bulkheads. Like many of its contemporaries, it was named for a fish, in this case a Clamagore is also called a blue parrotfish. It was fun to imagine myself as one of the men who lived and worked under the sea.

Little Red Wagon

by Tanya on September 22, 2014 in Product Review

I’ve got a new little red wagon, but it isn’t a Radio Flyer. I borrowed a Mac Sports Folding Utility Wagon from a fellow boater in St. Augustine (thank you, Tiki Trek!) to fetch provisions one day and knew I had found the perfect vehicle. For years I have carted laundry and groceries in a folding and rusting metal cart (the granny kind) that never holds enough stuff and is just the perfect size and shape to always be in the way wherever you try to store it.

The FUW, on the other hand, folds into a neat little square which fits into its own bag and stows nicely in one of our aft lazarettes. We ordered ours from Dick’sSportingGoods.com, for about $70. It can carry up to 150 pounds—that’s a lot of groceries—and it folds and unfolds in the blink of an eye. The fabric is a sturdy synthetic canvas and the frame is steel. The oval-shaped handle telescopes and snaps into place, and there are even two pockets on the front for water bottles or small items. The wheels are hard rubber, and with the front two articulating, turning sharp corners with a heavy load is not a problem.

The only drawbacks I have discovered are that it’s heavy (the tradeoff for durability, I guess), and that the wheels don’t have locking brakes, which makes it a little tricky if you stop on a slope or when you fold it to put on the cover. The instructions state multiple times that the wagon is not to be used as a conveyance for small people, but my small person has already climbed in on top of the laundry for a ride with no ill effects. The metal frame makes it seem uncomfortable, and the warnings make it clear that you can’t sue Mac Sports if your tot falls out of the wagon or gets his little fingers pinched in the folding mechanism. Aside from these minor concerns, the wagon is a new favorite and draws compliments wherever I take it.

Charleston Single

by Eli on September 3, 2014 in Recipes

While we were in Charleston, we were invited to the house of Grandma Mary’s friends, Cindy and Pete. They made hamburgers and hot dogs, and gave us the tour of their 200-year-old house on Church Street. It was a huge, and very beautiful, house that had been built by a Revolutionary War hero. Like many of the old houses in Charleston, it had a piazza, a second-floor porch accessible by stairs from a false front door on the ground level. After lunch, we played hide and seek until it was time to go. We had fun with them, and hope to come back soon.

August in St. Augustine

by Tanya on August 23, 2014 in General

We crossed the Gulf Stream in mid-July and stopped in Ft. Pierce for a couple of weeks to visit old friends, replace our brand-new malfunctioning chart-plotter, and order a new alternator to replace the one we fried. Deciding that we had plenty of summer left and nothing pressing to do in Florida, we headed up the coast with a general goal of taking the kids on an extended U.S. History field trip, starting in the nation’s oldest city and ending up (Lord willing and weather permitting) in the nation’s capital.

We arrived in St. Augustine on a very special date: Eli’s 13th birthday. Making a passage is probably not the way any of our kids would choose to spend a birthday. We tried to make up for it by going ashore for a nice dinner at Columbia on St. George’s Street, but it backfired as most of the crew was still feeling the residual motion of the boat and didn’t have much of an appetite.

We spent the next several days touring the old part of the city and visiting museums and historic places and enjoying lunches out (a rare treat for our large family). Jay has been working as we travel this year, so he joined us whenever he could and enjoyed some quiet working time on the boat when he couldn’t. The old city is beautiful, in part due to its Spanish colonial influence—it was planned around a plaza like an old-world city, and also thanks to the beautiful architecture of Gilded-age hotels and churches built by Henry Flagler in the early 1900s.

St. Augustine is very boater-friendly, and convenient for visiting by water. Most of the museums, old buildings, and restaurants are walking distance from the municipal marina, which has a breakwater and floating docks, as well as a mooring field and dinghy dock. The Red Train has a station at the marina, near the nation’s oldest mini-golf course, making it convenient to take a guided tour of the city and get a round of $1 mini-golf! Getting groceries proved a bit more challenging, with the closest grocery stores requiring a taxi to go out of the old city or a dinghy to go across Matanzas Bay to the Publix near Vilano Beach.

The Castillo San Marcos, the most remarkable feature of the St. Augustine water-front, is just a short walk from the municipal marina. This Spanish fort is over 300 years old, but has aged beautifully—the sedimentary stone of which it is built (made by Nature of compacted coquina shells) shows little sign of crumbling, and the bronze cannons are still beautiful, though their cast iron counterparts have not fared so well. In its long and varied history, it was assaulted many times by many different nations, but was never taken in battle. A walk around the fort, now a part of the National Park Service, makes it clear why this should be. We found the ranger talk and the museum exhibits inside the rooms of the lower level to be helpful and informative. The tickets were inexpensive and good for a week—long enough to come back on a weekend and see the cannons being fired off in a re-enactment.

We decided to ride the Red Train, a guided tram which runs in a circuit around the city, stopping at major points of interest. For our family of seven, it cost about $100 for a three-day pass, and we could hop on or off at any point, as the trains run continuously until 4:30 and stop every 20 minutes or so on their one-and-a-half hour tour. Some highlights of the tour include stops at the Old Fort, Old City Gates (with access to St. Georges Street, a walking street with restaurants, shops, and museums), the Fountain of Youth Archeological Park (which has a natural spring, Timucuan artifacts, and history related to Ponce de Leon’s discovery of Florida in 1513), the Victorian Jail built by Henry Flagler, the Colonial Quarter living history museum, the only Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue in America on which the famous civil rights leader actually led a march, Flagler College (once the posh Ponce De Leon Hotel, one of the first buildings in America to be lit with Edison’s electric lights), the Florida School for the Deaf and Blind (where Ray Charles went to school), the Lightner Museum (housed in what was once Flagler’s Alcazar Hotel with the largest indoor swimming pool in the world), the Memorial Presbyterian Church (built by Flagler for his daughter, and containing a 5000-pipe organ, Tiffany stained glass, and the family mausoleum), the Plaza, the Basilica of St. Augustine, and Aviles Street, a narrow, Spanish-colonial-era street with more shops, museums and restaurants.

One of our favorite stops was the living history museum at the Colonial Quarter. In a one-hour guided tour, you can experience the changes in St. Augustine through the centuries, from 16th-century Spanish settlement, to 17th-century fortified town, to 18th-century British Colony. The knowledgeable and authentically-dressed guides walk you through exhibits like the building of a wooden Caravel, a working blacksmith shop, the firing of a Flintlock rifle, replica Spanish colonial homes and the restoration of an original coquina house. The museum is laid out so that you can walk through the different sections after the tour at your own leisure to get a closer look (and read those ubiquitous plaques). You can climb the rebuilt Spanish watchtower for a great view of the Castillo and the old city, see a display of the many flags that have flown over St. Augustine, see how a printing press works, and visit the gift shop, which contains some unique items. You can then take your admission bracelet to either the Spanish Taberna or the British Pub, Bull & Crown, for a discount on drinks or food. It was a great way to get an overview of the rich history of this city.

We celebrated another special day on August 2nd—our 17th wedding anniversary (and, not coincidentally, the 17th birthday of our remaining boat kitty, Spice). The next day, the 5-year anniversary of our move aboard Take Two, we moved the boat to a marina and resort on Anastasia Island so that we could have better access to the grocery store, beaches, a swimming pool, and parks. A long walk or short dinghy ride gives you access to the St. Augustine Lighthouse, one of the few remaining working lighthouses in America which you can climb. The museum there is partnered with the Smithsonian and includes a hike up the 219 steps of the 1873 lighthouse where you can go out on the balcony and enjoy the 360⁰ view, the beautifully-restored 19th-century keeper’s house, a boatyard which restores vintage wooden craft, and an exhibit highlighting underwater archeology. It’s a must-see if you’re in the area.

The Atlantic beaches in St. Augustine were a bit of a disappointment. To beach connoisseurs like our kids, the water was too cloudy, the sand either too dirty or too shelly, and the waves were either too small for surfing or broke too close to the shore to be of any use. Despite our being spoiled beach brats (thanks to Bahamas beach perfection), we still enjoyed ourselves at Vilano Beach (a car beach!), and at the beaches on Anastasia Island. You can find wide swaths of relatively deserted beach at the state park, or better conditions for surfing and body-boarding near the pier at the public beach.

We also enjoyed meals out in St. Augustine, and found the selection and quality to be very good. Lunch at A1A in the old city was high-quality, fresh and original. Our anniversary dinner at Centro Piano Bar was classy-gourmet in a great atmosphere, and the Mellow Mushroom on Anastasia Island is the some of the best pizza we’ve ever had. The Conch House on Anastasia is a fun place to eat as well, with lots of seafood options and seating in little tiki huts over the water. (And their key lime pie is at least as good as pie found in the Keys.) Our impression after a few weeks in St. Augustine is that this is a beautiful town full of history, gorgeous architecture, great restaurants, and lots to do.

Rachel Swims!

by Tanya on August 16, 2014 in General

One of the most important milestones in our home is the day a child learns to swim. This, of course, is so that we don’t have to worry so much about little people going outside and falling into our front yard. Rachel has been in the water since she was days old—her swim lessons started with the teaching of survival skills, like floating on her back. When she fell off the dock last year, she did not panic, but popped to the surface and waited for help (only seconds away in that case). Since then, she has been a lot more careful on docks, and we have been pushing the swimming. By age two, she had all the requisite skills: floating, kicking, holding her breath, forward motion using her arms—but she had not put them all together. She would jump in the water, swim underwater until she ran out of air and we’d fish her out, spluttering. This summer, she added “coming up for air” to her repertoire. We’ve had access to a pool for the last couple of weeks, and her swimming has really improved. She’s comfortable jumping in the deep end and getting herself back to the ladder. I can tell you, we’re all celebrating that achievement and will sleep a little easier knowing that she’s joined our amphibious crew.

FAQ: How do you handle storms at sea?

by Tanya on August 4, 2014 in Frequently Asked Questions

People often comment that we are brave to do what we do. If what they mean by brave is feeling afraid, but refusing to be ruled by fear, I might agree. One of the chief fears people have about boats is encountering storms at sea. We can often choose the weather in which we depart, but cannot control the weather we experience once offshore. And once you’re in it, like the children’s chant says, “you can’t go over it, you can’t go under it—you’ve got to go through it.”

Summer weather in Florida is pretty predictable. Except for during hurricanes (which you can plan and prepare for), the daily weather forecast is about the same. There are land and sea breezes which take shifts, a middle-of-the-day lull, and afternoon thunderstorms which can pack a mighty punch (we’ve seen wind speeds of up to 65 knots). Tied to a dock, these approaching storms are fun to watch—the cumulonimbus clouds building and billowing, the wind shifting and howling, and rain that is more waterfall than shower—all except for the lightning, which is indiscriminate and always terrifying if you live in a home with a 68-foot metal pole on top. At sea, I can attest, these storms are not to be trifled with.

I never feel more alive, or rather, more aware of the fragility of my life, than at sea in rough weather. I may be one of those rare, sick-minded people that feel a sort of exhilaration, even joy, in the midst of these storms. If I can’t control it, I can at least appreciate it. The wild beauty of foaming wave-tops, lightning that glows white-hot or pinkish-blue and hurts your eyes for its brightness, thunder that you can feel and not just hear—these are awesome forces to behold from the deck of a wave-tossed boat.

The children, sensing a change in the weather, naturally look to us for cues as to how to respond to what sometimes feels like an emergency. We may rush around for a few moments stowing loose objects, digging out rain gear, taking down sails, and starting an engine. But then I do something mundane, like wash dishes or read aloud, to send the message that it’s business-as-usual. If people feel fearful, we pray, and retell the Bible story of Jesus calming the storm with a few words, and wondering at the lack of faith in his anxious disciples. This story restores confidence, if not fearlessness, because it reminds us that we know the Maker of these forces and that we find ourselves in His capable hands, come what may.

Jay, as the captain, is usually at the helm in his foul-weather gear trying to keep the boat at a comfortable angle to the wind and waves. I can only imagine what impression this leaves on our young children, especially boys beginning to get a glimpse of manhood, to see their capable Dad seemingly in control, keeping his family safe and exuding calm and quiet. In reality, we dread sailing in rough weather. It is humbling and physically uncomfortable. But we also know that these experiences are making us tougher and more capable sailors. At the very least, our grandchildren will be regaled with good stories, because, as we have remarked before, it’s never the calm, quiet, boring days which make for good stories.

Bahamian Independence Day

by Tanya on July 28, 2014 in Recipes

We missed our 4th of July celebration this year, but managed to celebrate Independence Day anyway—Bahamian Independence Day—on July 10th. The Bahamas broke away from the UK only 41 years ago, but retained its status as a Commonwealth Nation. A large segment of the population is made up of descendants of Loyalists (to King George) or their slaves, who left the American colonies before the Revolutionary War. So there’s not a lot of drama or rhetoric surrounding their holiday.

We found ourselves in the small island community of Spanish Wells with new friends (an American family who are renovating a 100-year-old cottage on the island), wearing turquoise, gold, and black and enjoying local traditions like swimming races, the slippery pole contest, coconut ice-cream (slow-churned with real coconuts grown on the Island), a children’s talent show, a local band playing the Bahamian National Anthem, steel drums and rake-and-scrape music, and, of course, fireworks. The island is a small and safe place, and the children were free to run around and find playmates without a lot of supervision.

Despite its feeling like a foreign country—Spanish Wells has its own dialect, cars drive on the left side of the road, local food and culture are different—it also reminded us of small-town America on Independence Day. Maybe that’s part of what we like about the Bahamas: its landscape, architecture, and customs are different enough to feel like we’ve gotten away from the norm, but the similarities in language, currency, and friendliness of the people make us feel comfortable traveling in the islands. The natural beauty and ability to find safe and quiet anchorages is likely to be a draw for us for years to come.

Spanish Wells Haulout

by Jay on July 3, 2014 in Recipes

It’s summertime, so it must be time to haul Take Two. Last year we hauled out to replace the engines, but didn’t touch the bottom paint. It was two years ago when we blasted all the old paint off, refaired the bottom, and repainted it.

Two years is about the life expectancy for bottom paint, and Boot Key Harbor in Marathon, FL is about the worst growth conditions you can find. After sitting there for 5 months, our bottom growth was looking pretty wicked. The picture below is not one of Tanya’s homemade pizzas, although it does look tasty — it is the bottom of the kids’ Minifish sailboat after about a month in Boot Key Harbor.

There are five places I know of in Florida that can handle Take Two’s beam, and we’ve used three of them. Some we'd do again, some we wouldn't.

This time we decided to mix it up a little bit and try the boatyard in Spanish Wells. There are several advantages to this. First, it’s in the Bahamas, and so is a destination in itself — we wanted to swing through after leaving the Keys anyway. They use a lifting platform, which in theory is easier on the boat. A bottom job is cost-effective — materials are expensive, but labor is cheap. And they’ve got the good paint.

We rented a great house, only 100 yards from the boat yard, where we can be in vacation mode and I can still supervise the work on the boat. Take Two can be seen easily from the front porch, and it’s only a short walk to go check on things. We’re right on the waterfront, so there’s lots of activity to watch. Ferries, mail boats, tankers, and barges. Oh my!

When Take Two is in the water, the house has a dock where we can tie her up. Which is highly convenient when we have the necessities for seven people, plus almost the entirety of Tanya’s galley to transport between the boat and the house.

We’ve really enjoyed being here. We had stopped in Spanish Wells twice before, but it was only to drop off trash or buy eggs. This time we got a much better feel for the place.

As haulouts go, this was a winner. The previous occupants of the house were the owners of the previous boat on the lift and have been hauling out here for 10 years, so we are not the first to figure this out. I can’t say for sure that we’ll do this again next time, but our future haulout options have officially been increased.

Into the Rabbit Hole

by Tanya on June 26, 2014 in Product Review

Oh, how I look forward to long, boring passages. Really. Time seems to telescope as the instruments count the tenths of nautical miles to the destination. And what shall we do with all this time? Eat very slowly? Talk? Read aloud by the hour? Fish? Watch the fabric of the ocean for the interruption of flying fish or the dolphins of Happiness—or, maybe, if we’re lucky, a whale? Stare lovingly into the deep-blue water and wonder, "what are those specks floating all over the place?" This morning, as we glided over the glassy surface of the Gulf Stream, for lack of anything better to do, I grabbed a bucketful of water, dug the microscope out of the science bin, found some slides, a petri dish, and an eyedropper and opened the Ocean Lab.

This morning’s victim was what I might call a “Floating Puffball from Inner Space.” I suspected it to be algae of some sort. It was a globe of greenish-brown with fine hair sticking out in all directions, about the size of a poppy seed. I sucked it up into the eyedropper and deposited it on a slide in a drop of water. At 40X, it looked like a mass of very fine tangled hair. At 100X, I began to see other, smaller things moving in and out among the hairs, and at 400X, the thing looked like a forest with small animals running in and out of the trees, changing direction mid-stream, diving and flying between the foliage. Each tree trunk was a hair—it was only a few cells thick, and it was clear from the cellular structure that it was plant-kind, but there was movement within each stalk and each moved like a tree waving slowly in a breeze. The tiny one-celled creatures within the forest of algal stems moved with incredible speed and energy. I felt like I was looking at Horton’s Whos down in Whoville. It was mesmerizing.

Once, at a local farmer’s market, I bought a head of heirloom broccoli, not because I wanted to eat it, but because I wanted to look at it up close: its stalk was a perfect spiral staircase of florets, with each floret a perfect spiral of buds, and each bud, in turn, a spiral. It was a perfect fractal repeating to the microscopic level. We have, for school and for fun, looked at inner cheek skin cells (animal), onion skin (vegetable), salt crystals (mineral), a honey bee’s stinger (barbs on barbs!), tiny brine shrimp (with compound eyes), the statue of Lincoln inside his Washington D.C. Memorial (on a penny), no-see-ums (look at those jaws!), hairy spider legs, fleas, and anything else we could capture and study. The C & A Scientific “My First Lab” Duo-Scope portable microscope with battery-operated LED bulbs (allowing you to look at both opaque and translucent objects) is probably the best science purchase we have ever made. It is so easy to use that even the youngest of our children has been able to view the tiny things on the slide—with the instant reward of discovering something strange and new.

The more I stare at that bright circle at the bottom of the dark tube into the magical world of the unseen things, the more I wonder how deep the rabbit hole goes. If a tiny alga can be home to animals as numerous as squirrels in the woods, what else can be possible? I read that we are, by genetic material, only one percent human. That makes me a planet-home to microbes more numerous than the population of humans on earth. Is everything a microcosm—a world inside a world? I feel like a peeping Tom peering in at a Creation too great for my limited intellect. This is usually the point at which I have to put the microscope away and look at the horizon because I suddenly feel a bit dizzy.