written in Hampton, VA
2010 10 15
This is just a rant so any rational reader can just skip it.
This has happened to us twice in two weeks and thus it becomes a conspiracy not merely an unfortunate coincidence. Besides, we all know there are NO coincidences.
We had landed in Port Washington, New York. Having dinghied ashore we looked for some internet so we can send and receive some email. Our choice was Starbucks or Burger King. Now Starbucks has much better coffee than Burger King but we find too often their pastries are oversweet and a bit on the stale side. That particluar day, raining and cold, called for the brighter lighting and fried food of a burger king.
Our main objective was still internet. Before ordering I asked the cashier if there was wireless at that Burger King. It was not my experience that BK offered wireless but the Budget Committee recollected differently. So we asked. We were assured by the cashier that the restaurant did indeed have wireless.
Receiving our order we seated ourselves and I unbundled our handy little Acer netbook. There was indeed a network but it was password protected.
Returning to the counter for the password I was handed off to a manager who informed me that the wireless network was only for management to use. Customers could not log in. "But", I pointed out "I inquired into the availability of wifi before we ordered and was told there was wifi".
"Well" replied the manager "We do have wireless."
"yes" I rejoined "but it is of little benefit if I cannot log in".
"Sorry" was the final word, spoken as the manager turned to tend to other tasks while pointedly refusing to pay any further attention to me.
This was just bizarre behaviour. I mean the BK had wireless but refuse to let customers use it. Yet they do put forth to customers that it is available.
On to Hampton Virginia. We walked our laundry over to the laundromat at the Hampton University. As it turns out the laundry is just beside a Burger King. It had a big sign on its window - FREE WIFI.
Yup. I bit. While Connie loaded the wash into machines I walked the half mile back to the boat and picked up the netbook.
We ordered drinks and again, sat down to catch up on mail.
The network was clearly present and identified. It gave 5 bars of signal strength.
I could not log in.
After 15 minutes of vetting my system to ensure it was not the cause of the problem, I found myself again at the cash register asking about the wifi.
"I cannot log in to the wireless network" was my plaintive remark.
Now here is the critical reply from the cashier. "No" she said "No one can".
"But you advertise free wifi" I demurred.
"Yes" I was informed by the cashier "and we have wifi".
"But I cannot log in" , it was a bit like playing a recording.
"No one can"
With that the cashier turned and just plain ignored me.
Now maybe some of you can get wifi at BK or maybe most of you would never be caught dead in a BK. But for sure if you go to a BK you better go only for the great food cause you won't get no wifi.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
An Interesting if Odd Little Place
written in Hampton VA
2010 10 14
New Bedford was a town we wanted to visit. Just south Cape Cod, home of a vast fishing fleet and better yet the place that opened that supposed masterwork of American literature, Moby Dick, New Bedford was a mainstay of the New England nautical experience.
We enjoyed New Bedford. But there were these things...
It is an expensive town for boaters. Marinas cost $3.25 per foot plus hydro, and that was the city run Pope Island marina, not the more expensive but much more professional Fairhaven Boat Works. Declining a slip at Pope Island we discovered that we had to arrange a mooring ball through the Harbour Control Commission or HCC, a state board that has total hegemony over the waters of the harbour.
We made the arrangements and were quoted $35 a night.
Next day we tried to arrange showers and landing at the Pope Island marina but were rebuffed. We needed to buy a card and we could only get one from HCC. We did so and were met at Pope Island marina by the HCC guy and arrangements wre made. Marina staff were lovely to deal with.
That day we learned that the HCC guy who had quoted us $35 a night for the ball was on vacation but his replacement would collect the fees. "That was $30 a night, right?" he asked. Hmmmm
Then the HCC guy tells us that all payments are in cash and when we paid there was no receipt offered or available. Hmmmm.
Trying to leave New Bedford was difficult as we wanted to pay our fees but no HCC guy was on duty until 9:30 a.m. Not much use to sailors I would say.
The town was nice but that was about it. No Moby Dick stuff about town but there is a whaling museum and a fishing museum, good places on bad days when you have to waste time somewhere. There is a cool walkway crossing a busy 4 lane divided highway which divides the town from the waterfront but the town is tearing it down because "drug users use it at night and the police will not patrol it". It leads from the fishing museum to the whaling museum. Hmmmmmm.
There are no groceries in walking distance and there is no public transit. The liquor store in Fairhaven was a hoot and apparently was the first stop for guys who missed last night's "meeting". While buying a case of beer we were preceded at the cashregister by dozen guys each buying those little 1 1/2 shot bottles. It was fun and everyone was friendly if seedy. Very appropriate for a fishing town.
One cool thing about NB is the "hurricane wall", a 25 foot high rock barrier across the entire mouth of the harbour, split only by a massive steel gate. When a hurricane threatens NB can close the gate and keep out the threatened storm surge.
When you estimate the cost of construction of the hurricane wall and compare it to the value of boats (even at the $1 million dollars per that the fisherpeople tell us) and fish packing plants on the waterfront you sort of get the feeling there is some pork barrel here.
A nice place.
Glad to get here. Happy to leave.
2010 10 14
New Bedford was a town we wanted to visit. Just south Cape Cod, home of a vast fishing fleet and better yet the place that opened that supposed masterwork of American literature, Moby Dick, New Bedford was a mainstay of the New England nautical experience.
We enjoyed New Bedford. But there were these things...
It is an expensive town for boaters. Marinas cost $3.25 per foot plus hydro, and that was the city run Pope Island marina, not the more expensive but much more professional Fairhaven Boat Works. Declining a slip at Pope Island we discovered that we had to arrange a mooring ball through the Harbour Control Commission or HCC, a state board that has total hegemony over the waters of the harbour.
We made the arrangements and were quoted $35 a night.
Next day we tried to arrange showers and landing at the Pope Island marina but were rebuffed. We needed to buy a card and we could only get one from HCC. We did so and were met at Pope Island marina by the HCC guy and arrangements wre made. Marina staff were lovely to deal with.
That day we learned that the HCC guy who had quoted us $35 a night for the ball was on vacation but his replacement would collect the fees. "That was $30 a night, right?" he asked. Hmmmm
Then the HCC guy tells us that all payments are in cash and when we paid there was no receipt offered or available. Hmmmm.
Trying to leave New Bedford was difficult as we wanted to pay our fees but no HCC guy was on duty until 9:30 a.m. Not much use to sailors I would say.
The town was nice but that was about it. No Moby Dick stuff about town but there is a whaling museum and a fishing museum, good places on bad days when you have to waste time somewhere. There is a cool walkway crossing a busy 4 lane divided highway which divides the town from the waterfront but the town is tearing it down because "drug users use it at night and the police will not patrol it". It leads from the fishing museum to the whaling museum. Hmmmmmm.
There are no groceries in walking distance and there is no public transit. The liquor store in Fairhaven was a hoot and apparently was the first stop for guys who missed last night's "meeting". While buying a case of beer we were preceded at the cashregister by dozen guys each buying those little 1 1/2 shot bottles. It was fun and everyone was friendly if seedy. Very appropriate for a fishing town.
One cool thing about NB is the "hurricane wall", a 25 foot high rock barrier across the entire mouth of the harbour, split only by a massive steel gate. When a hurricane threatens NB can close the gate and keep out the threatened storm surge.
When you estimate the cost of construction of the hurricane wall and compare it to the value of boats (even at the $1 million dollars per that the fisherpeople tell us) and fish packing plants on the waterfront you sort of get the feeling there is some pork barrel here.
A nice place.
Glad to get here. Happy to leave.
Continuing Education: The Budget Committee Gets Pooped
Written on October 14, 2010
Hampton, VA
So I have to begin by telling you that we've broken out the booze and are having a ball. The past two weeks, although silent on the publishing end, have been unbelievable. Are we pumped or what.
We have learned more about heavy weather sailing in the last 3 weeks than we have in the last 10 years. More importantly we have been tested, and to date, not found wanting.
A day in New Bedford was very pleasant. The three days following, sitting aboard in Bedford in horrid weather were less so. When the weather finally cleared on October 1 it was time to move. Plan was to sail the length of Long Island Sound and put in at Port Washington, New York at the very south end of that island.
Port Washington, we were told by friends Peter and Heather of Yarmouth, offered two free nights on a mooring ball. The trip was about 135 nm - a good overnight trip.
We had no idea. Which isn't to say we were clueless but you might have thought so.
Entering Buzzards Bay out of New Bedford we were pleased to find conditions were as forecast. We settled in for a lovely day's sailing.
That's how it works right?
As the sun traced its flaccid early autumn arc through the sky winds, nicely off our stern through the morning, moved westward as though tended by a solar shepherd. That put the late day winds off our bow and on went the diesel late afternoon as poor Meredith struggled with wind 30 degrees off the bow. As we were to learn it was not her upwind sailing ability that mattered.
As dark set the dogs of wind were let out. They started to build at dark and then, politely, they moved to our stern. They did not, however, stop building until they reached an apparent wind of 28 knots (28 to 32) with gusts to 35.
We made very good time. With 3 reefs in the main and no headsail out we were travelling at 8.5 to 9 knots continuous. I always figured our maximum hull speed was about 7.5 knots (our length at the waterline is 29.5 feet. Max hull speed in knots is a bit more than the square root of that length times 1.34 producing 7.3 for our Meredith). We were hastened along by waves from the stern giving us a good push forward with each cycle.
Usually waves are just water moving up and down - not forward and back. When there is not enough water depth to support the wave it can "break" or fall forward making those rolling breaking waves so beloved of the surfing set. When the waves are breaking or just about breaking you want to be very careful. More careful than were we.
Our waves were a bit higher than the freeboard of our boat but we rose with each wave and the wave passed beneath us harmlessly. So it continued through the night until we got to the "Middle Ground" an area of shallowing in Long Island Sound populated by large rocks high enough in elevation to be called islands.
Still doing 9 knots sightless in the all encompassing gloom and raging wind and rain we made our way through the middle ground. it was just after 3 a.m. and time for a shift change. In the galley the Budget Committee, scheduled for the next watch, made wakeup cuppa before settling in in the cockpit.
Then it happened. We were pooped. Sitting in the cockpit in my full foul weather gear I watched as a monstrous wave closed on our stern at high speed. The wave was a good ten to twelve feet higher than any of its neighbours - and it was breaking. There was no time to do anything.
When it reached Meredith our stern remained where it was; we did not rise into the breaking crest of the errant wave. The wave reached and then passed Meredith. Except that it broke over the cockpit - a current of water just envelopes you. You are dry one minute and swimming the next.
I moved to adjust the helm hoping to find a point of sail that would avoid a repeat. I found myself in the cockpit surrounded by warm comforting fluids and waited for things to drain.
But the poor Budget Committee. She was preparing her tea in anticipation of taking a shift at the helm. She had not yet donned her foul weather gear - that nice warm waterproof gear. Standing in the galley in her woolies she was met by aflood of seawater forcing its way through the companionway. Hundreds of gallons of water hit her with no warning no pity.
She took it square on.
So did the galley. After things settled down poor BC found her teacup full to overflowing with tea coloured salt water. The fridge was full of warm salt water. Every cupboard and drawer, every pot and pan was full of salt water: green, slimy, mucky seawater. The quarterberth had been immersed. All our bedding was soaked. We are still removing salt stains from the woodwork in the main salon.
But the BC, standing at the bottom of the companionway stairs making her tea took the full hit - a hip check from Neptune.
She's still standing. And I want tickets for the rematch.
Followup Notes:
In Hampton VA we met Bill and Jeanie aboard . This quiet and eminently likeable couple found themselves sailing on the same night we were pooped. They, however, were sailing outside Long Island on the ocean. Waves for them were much higher. They found their dinghy, hung on davits, immersed in the ocean when they would ride through the waves. They too were pooped and it filled the dinghy. These two had an interesting night. Both of us relied on a rock solid forecast that contained none of the elements we encountered.
We (I, since I was on duty) should have anticipated the potential for an errant wave, especially as we were sailing into shallower water with big rocks. The rocks act a bit as a backboard in tennis - the waves can bounce off and as they reverse direction can double the height of the wave.
We should have had our companionway boards in place the entire night. We will not make that mistake again.
Hampton, VA
So I have to begin by telling you that we've broken out the booze and are having a ball. The past two weeks, although silent on the publishing end, have been unbelievable. Are we pumped or what.
We have learned more about heavy weather sailing in the last 3 weeks than we have in the last 10 years. More importantly we have been tested, and to date, not found wanting.
A day in New Bedford was very pleasant. The three days following, sitting aboard in Bedford in horrid weather were less so. When the weather finally cleared on October 1 it was time to move. Plan was to sail the length of Long Island Sound and put in at Port Washington, New York at the very south end of that island.
Port Washington, we were told by friends Peter and Heather of Yarmouth, offered two free nights on a mooring ball. The trip was about 135 nm - a good overnight trip.
We had no idea. Which isn't to say we were clueless but you might have thought so.
Entering Buzzards Bay out of New Bedford we were pleased to find conditions were as forecast. We settled in for a lovely day's sailing.
That's how it works right?
As the sun traced its flaccid early autumn arc through the sky winds, nicely off our stern through the morning, moved westward as though tended by a solar shepherd. That put the late day winds off our bow and on went the diesel late afternoon as poor Meredith struggled with wind 30 degrees off the bow. As we were to learn it was not her upwind sailing ability that mattered.
As dark set the dogs of wind were let out. They started to build at dark and then, politely, they moved to our stern. They did not, however, stop building until they reached an apparent wind of 28 knots (28 to 32) with gusts to 35.
We made very good time. With 3 reefs in the main and no headsail out we were travelling at 8.5 to 9 knots continuous. I always figured our maximum hull speed was about 7.5 knots (our length at the waterline is 29.5 feet. Max hull speed in knots is a bit more than the square root of that length times 1.34 producing 7.3 for our Meredith). We were hastened along by waves from the stern giving us a good push forward with each cycle.
Usually waves are just water moving up and down - not forward and back. When there is not enough water depth to support the wave it can "break" or fall forward making those rolling breaking waves so beloved of the surfing set. When the waves are breaking or just about breaking you want to be very careful. More careful than were we.
Our waves were a bit higher than the freeboard of our boat but we rose with each wave and the wave passed beneath us harmlessly. So it continued through the night until we got to the "Middle Ground" an area of shallowing in Long Island Sound populated by large rocks high enough in elevation to be called islands.
Still doing 9 knots sightless in the all encompassing gloom and raging wind and rain we made our way through the middle ground. it was just after 3 a.m. and time for a shift change. In the galley the Budget Committee, scheduled for the next watch, made wakeup cuppa before settling in in the cockpit.
Then it happened. We were pooped. Sitting in the cockpit in my full foul weather gear I watched as a monstrous wave closed on our stern at high speed. The wave was a good ten to twelve feet higher than any of its neighbours - and it was breaking. There was no time to do anything.
When it reached Meredith our stern remained where it was; we did not rise into the breaking crest of the errant wave. The wave reached and then passed Meredith. Except that it broke over the cockpit - a current of water just envelopes you. You are dry one minute and swimming the next.
I moved to adjust the helm hoping to find a point of sail that would avoid a repeat. I found myself in the cockpit surrounded by warm comforting fluids and waited for things to drain.
But the poor Budget Committee. She was preparing her tea in anticipation of taking a shift at the helm. She had not yet donned her foul weather gear - that nice warm waterproof gear. Standing in the galley in her woolies she was met by aflood of seawater forcing its way through the companionway. Hundreds of gallons of water hit her with no warning no pity.
She took it square on.
So did the galley. After things settled down poor BC found her teacup full to overflowing with tea coloured salt water. The fridge was full of warm salt water. Every cupboard and drawer, every pot and pan was full of salt water: green, slimy, mucky seawater. The quarterberth had been immersed. All our bedding was soaked. We are still removing salt stains from the woodwork in the main salon.
But the BC, standing at the bottom of the companionway stairs making her tea took the full hit - a hip check from Neptune.
She's still standing. And I want tickets for the rematch.
Followup Notes:
In Hampton VA we met Bill and Jeanie aboard . This quiet and eminently likeable couple found themselves sailing on the same night we were pooped. They, however, were sailing outside Long Island on the ocean. Waves for them were much higher. They found their dinghy, hung on davits, immersed in the ocean when they would ride through the waves. They too were pooped and it filled the dinghy. These two had an interesting night. Both of us relied on a rock solid forecast that contained none of the elements we encountered.
We (I, since I was on duty) should have anticipated the potential for an errant wave, especially as we were sailing into shallower water with big rocks. The rocks act a bit as a backboard in tennis - the waves can bounce off and as they reverse direction can double the height of the wave.
We should have had our companionway boards in place the entire night. We will not make that mistake again.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Clearing Customs and Immigration: USA Improves, Canada Loses Bigtime
2010 10 01
New Bedford, MASS
Clearing into the USA by boat has improved immeasurably since only a year ago. Canada on the other hand has been lead back to medieval times by our Fascist Monarch and his gun totin' god fearin' pack of backwoods lunatics in the Reformed conservative party.
Who to Call
CBP in the United States is cleaning up their act, in New England at least. To enter the US from a foreign port you call a single number for the entire North East.
The number is (207) 532-2131. You want to choose extension 255 when asked.
That connects you with a CBP guy in Houlton Maine. He makes all the arrangements for you with the local CBP inspectors.
When to Call
It is good to call about an hour before you make landfall in the US.
Now so far as the CBP is concerned in New England, "landfall" means tying up to a dock or facility from which you can disembark or rafting to another vessel. If all you are doing is anchoring while enroute to a destination where you intend to clear you have not made landfall.
This is different from Canada where the dropping of an anchor constitutes landfall.
Daily Position Reports
CBP have lowered the boom on position reporting for pleasure boats. You must report your arrival at each port or place in the USA to the designated CBP officer at the nearest port of entry. This is the wording on your Cruising Licence and it is unequivocal. The Officer who inspected Meredith drew our attention to the text and highlighted it in yellow on our Cruising Licence.
Here is what it says verbatim:
Upon arrival at each port or place in the United States, the master shall report the fact of arrival to the designated Customs and Border Protection Officer at the nearest port of entry. Such report shall be made immediately upon arrival.
This wording was not on our last Cruising Licence issued in 2009 but was on the Cruising Licence we were issued in 2008.
Not much wiggle room is there. The only clarification that the officer made with us was that anchoring did not constitute arrival. If we anchored while enroute we had not arrived and so long as we did not disembark or raft to another vessel we did not have to report.
The New England CBP guys know what they are doing. They know boats and boating. We are not at all certain that as we move south we will not encounter a good deal of ignorance about the rules or their application. Not all branches of CBP are equally experienced or as well trained as the guy who cleared us in. We have learned to expect all manner of trouble with the KGB of the water.
Reporting Phone Number
CBP have an 800 number you can call.
1 (800) 973-2867
An operator answers and when you tell him you want to make a pleasure boat position report he will ask where you are and connect you to the proper office. This is easy. So easy you almost do not notice that big brother has you squarely in his sights.
According to CPB New Bedford MA if you are only anchoring you do not need to report. A position report is only required when you are affixed to land or raft up to another vessel. If you are enroute and stay on your boat you do not need to call with your intermediate stops.
Procedure on Reporting Arrival
Tell the operator you want to make a pleasure boat position report and where you are. The operator will connect you to the local office of CBP. When you make your report expect to provide your cruising licence number, Nexus Boaters Registration Numbers, Passport Numbers, and then provide full details of everyone on board.
When you have completed your report get the name and badge number or employee number of the person who took it and record it in your log. If the person refuses to give the number explain why you need it - for the official log. If he continues to be intransigent record your reportage anyway and the fact the officer refused to identify himself.
We have never had an officer refuse to give name and employee number.
Canada's Descent Into the Eighth Ring of Hell - Led by His Royal Highness the Fascist King
King Stephen our fascist monarch, having received 5 million votes from the 35 million Canadian people, has seen fit to duplicate the worst excesses of the American CBP system at the Canadian Border. If you doubt it I refer you to this news article from the Halifax Chronical Herald which was forwarded to me by our very good American friend Dave Johnson. Dave is a real character and much loved aboard Meredith.
The link to the article is as follows:
Trashing the boat of unsuspecting and compliant as possible foreign sailors? What the hell are we creating.
Thousands of complaints about the conduct of Canada's CBP agents and not a single one was valid. Not one. Who the hell thinks this stuff up.
With no provocation whatsoever these CBP thugs, representatives of our government, trashed an innocent man's boat and threatened worse. I may call the US CBP a variant of the KGB but it seems we have installed an aqueous Gestapo.
While we were in Halifax I looked up Dan Leger, the reporter who wrote the article, and had a long and disturbing talk with him about the current state of CBP in Nova Scotia.
Our dictator for life has armed our border guards.
Think about what kind of person wants to be a border guard. Border guards are just toll booth operators, little better than security guards. No one says as a little boy "When I grow up I want to be a border guard". People take these jobs out of necessity. A nice paycheque, clean working conditions, good benefits. Then we turn them into bureaucrats and then we give them guns.
When we arrived in Yarmouth NS the CBP sent the harbour master out to our boat to demand we immediately present ourselves to clear in. The possibility that we were Canadians in a Canadian port and had never left Canada never occured to this thick skulled bunch.
We told the harbourmaster, a very nice man, that we would ignore CBP and why. We arranged for a dock with him and told him we would be moving to tie up in about an hour if CBP wanted to discuss it further.
Now our great fascist leader has given them guns and told them they are immune to the consequences.
They believe him. It is a bureaucrat's dreamland. All the power and absolutely no responsibility.
Get ready.
New Bedford, MASS
Clearing into the USA by boat has improved immeasurably since only a year ago. Canada on the other hand has been lead back to medieval times by our Fascist Monarch and his gun totin' god fearin' pack of backwoods lunatics in the Reformed conservative party.
Who to Call
CBP in the United States is cleaning up their act, in New England at least. To enter the US from a foreign port you call a single number for the entire North East.
The number is (207) 532-2131. You want to choose extension 255 when asked.
That connects you with a CBP guy in Houlton Maine. He makes all the arrangements for you with the local CBP inspectors.
When to Call
It is good to call about an hour before you make landfall in the US.
Now so far as the CBP is concerned in New England, "landfall" means tying up to a dock or facility from which you can disembark or rafting to another vessel. If all you are doing is anchoring while enroute to a destination where you intend to clear you have not made landfall.
This is different from Canada where the dropping of an anchor constitutes landfall.
Daily Position Reports
CBP have lowered the boom on position reporting for pleasure boats. You must report your arrival at each port or place in the USA to the designated CBP officer at the nearest port of entry. This is the wording on your Cruising Licence and it is unequivocal. The Officer who inspected Meredith drew our attention to the text and highlighted it in yellow on our Cruising Licence.
Here is what it says verbatim:
Upon arrival at each port or place in the United States, the master shall report the fact of arrival to the designated Customs and Border Protection Officer at the nearest port of entry. Such report shall be made immediately upon arrival.
This wording was not on our last Cruising Licence issued in 2009 but was on the Cruising Licence we were issued in 2008.
Not much wiggle room is there. The only clarification that the officer made with us was that anchoring did not constitute arrival. If we anchored while enroute we had not arrived and so long as we did not disembark or raft to another vessel we did not have to report.
The New England CBP guys know what they are doing. They know boats and boating. We are not at all certain that as we move south we will not encounter a good deal of ignorance about the rules or their application. Not all branches of CBP are equally experienced or as well trained as the guy who cleared us in. We have learned to expect all manner of trouble with the KGB of the water.
Reporting Phone Number
CBP have an 800 number you can call.
1 (800) 973-2867
An operator answers and when you tell him you want to make a pleasure boat position report he will ask where you are and connect you to the proper office. This is easy. So easy you almost do not notice that big brother has you squarely in his sights.
According to CPB New Bedford MA if you are only anchoring you do not need to report. A position report is only required when you are affixed to land or raft up to another vessel. If you are enroute and stay on your boat you do not need to call with your intermediate stops.
Procedure on Reporting Arrival
Tell the operator you want to make a pleasure boat position report and where you are. The operator will connect you to the local office of CBP. When you make your report expect to provide your cruising licence number, Nexus Boaters Registration Numbers, Passport Numbers, and then provide full details of everyone on board.
When you have completed your report get the name and badge number or employee number of the person who took it and record it in your log. If the person refuses to give the number explain why you need it - for the official log. If he continues to be intransigent record your reportage anyway and the fact the officer refused to identify himself.
We have never had an officer refuse to give name and employee number.
Canada's Descent Into the Eighth Ring of Hell - Led by His Royal Highness the Fascist King
King Stephen our fascist monarch, having received 5 million votes from the 35 million Canadian people, has seen fit to duplicate the worst excesses of the American CBP system at the Canadian Border. If you doubt it I refer you to this news article from the Halifax Chronical Herald which was forwarded to me by our very good American friend Dave Johnson. Dave is a real character and much loved aboard Meredith.
The link to the article is as follows:
Border guards, border bullies: a sailor’s ugly story
Trashing the boat of unsuspecting and compliant as possible foreign sailors? What the hell are we creating.
Thousands of complaints about the conduct of Canada's CBP agents and not a single one was valid. Not one. Who the hell thinks this stuff up.
With no provocation whatsoever these CBP thugs, representatives of our government, trashed an innocent man's boat and threatened worse. I may call the US CBP a variant of the KGB but it seems we have installed an aqueous Gestapo.
While we were in Halifax I looked up Dan Leger, the reporter who wrote the article, and had a long and disturbing talk with him about the current state of CBP in Nova Scotia.
Our dictator for life has armed our border guards.
Think about what kind of person wants to be a border guard. Border guards are just toll booth operators, little better than security guards. No one says as a little boy "When I grow up I want to be a border guard". People take these jobs out of necessity. A nice paycheque, clean working conditions, good benefits. Then we turn them into bureaucrats and then we give them guns.
When we arrived in Yarmouth NS the CBP sent the harbour master out to our boat to demand we immediately present ourselves to clear in. The possibility that we were Canadians in a Canadian port and had never left Canada never occured to this thick skulled bunch.
We told the harbourmaster, a very nice man, that we would ignore CBP and why. We arranged for a dock with him and told him we would be moving to tie up in about an hour if CBP wanted to discuss it further.
Now our great fascist leader has given them guns and told them they are immune to the consequences.
They believe him. It is a bureaucrat's dreamland. All the power and absolutely no responsibility.
Get ready.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Crossing the Big Water: Bay of Fundy and Gulf of Maine
October 1, 2010
New Bedford, ME
Waking up in Yarmouth NS the morning after our late night foggy arrival was easy. Often I find it easy to wake up when some moron is banging on your hull with a log and yelling for all he is worth.
That is how it seemed anyway. In fact it was the very decent harbour master who had been sent out to our boat by Canadian Customs and Border Protection to demand that we present ourselves for clearing in. Given that we were Canadian and in Canada and had not left Canada I was inclined to take the offence. However the harbourmaster was such a nice guy I just could not do it. I don't know or care what happened to the CBP apes who seem to swarm over the Yarmouth docks but I hope it involved animal fecies.
We arranged with the harbourmaster to move from the mooring ball we had picked up in the rain and the wind and fog the previous night and move to the dock. Then Peter Loveridge who, with wife Heather, lives just out of Yarmouth called and our day was set.
We shared lunch at Rudder's Seafood restaurant downtown. I highly recommend the fish and scallop combo. With chips of course. Afterward Peter drove us to a good fuel station and the grocery and liquor store where we restocked and then it was off to this couple's home for drinks and talk. Peter showed us the fishing pens where the fishermen keep their boats - 30 to 50 boats in the tiniest little protected harbour you ever saw.
Peter brought out the manuscript for his newly revised Cruising Guide to Nova Scotia - a reem of paper printed both sides with full colour drawings throughout and set it in my lap.
I sat dumb. What do you say to a guy who has just put 3 years of his life into a work as he hands it to you. Flipping through the pages and offering "nice work" platitudes seems a bit rude. Peter had emailed us 3 chapters of his new work as we made our way south along the coast of Nova Scotia and we knew the contents were not only researched to the millimeter but we had tested several of his recommendation. The book was solid and Peter and Heather knew it. In the end we talked about publishing in the small Canadian book market.
We are now on the list for an early copy - No. 1, 2 or 3 I hope of the book, due to issue by year's end. I want a signed copy of course and an invitation to the launch party.
After checking passageweather.com on Peter's Internet we returned to Meredith about 10:30 p.m. sated: well fed, well watered and very tired.
Three boats had been at the municipal dock when we tied up in the morning. They were leaving overnight and asked us to join them. We had declined their offer to join the group as we did not agree with their timing. (of course we did not say that to them, pleading exhaustion and overconsumption of alcohol)
Next morning we walked the streets of a closed up downtown Yarmouth, had liesurely breakfast at the waterfront hotel and set off when our tide analysis, backed up by Peter of course, indicated we should.
Departure was about 9:00 a.m. on Sunday. The end of the good times.
Weather was forecast at very light North East wind, running 10 to 15 knots max over part of the morning and then falling to near zero for 2 days.
Instead the wind started at 10 knots south east and built over the day to 15, 20 and ultimately 25 gusting 30. As the south east wind met the ebbing tide of Fundy the result was holy rollers on a short leash - very tall short frequency confused sea slammers. Meredith, with 3 reefs in the main and the staysail flying loose was rocked from gunwale to gunwale. Every third wave grabbed the stern and just moved the transom wherever it damn well felt like - never the same place twice.
All was pandemonium, chaos. In 30 minutes every item on the boat that had not been adequately stowed away was on the cabin sole either thrown there by the waves or taken down by the Budget Committee and placed on the floor in a desperate bid to anticipate and avoid further damage.
Depending on whether the tide was ebb or flow for the next 30 hours we were in 4 to 5 metre waves or 3 to 4 meter waves with the occasional rogue wave thrown in just for fun.
At one point the auto pilot lost its hold and the boat swung around as a stern wave grabbed us and moved us out of its way. The Budget Committee swears she was standing on the walls of Meredith to remain upright. I was pretty busy trying to shut off the autopilot and regain some measure of control. We tried everything we knew to ease the motion of the boat and enjoyed limited success.
Mainly we just rode it out.
We did not have fun.
Midday on the second day out the wind died. On went the Beta. In came the fog. Thick, heavy, barely see the bow of the boat fog. Out came the radar reflector and the fog horn. At least it was calm. And quiet.
About 11 p.m. on the second day out we knew we were close to Race Point, the tip of Cape Cod. On the course we chose it was just at Race Point that we had to cross the Boston Harbour Shipping Lanes. The damn fog was becoming more than a nuisance.
Taking another of Peter's tips we made a Securite call, announcing our position and intention to cross the shipping lanes and giving an estimate of how long it would take. All that echoed back to us was fog muffled silence.
We girded ourselves and crossed, every sense tuned and pinging for targets as we did so. It took about an hour and a quarter. We survived.
About a half hour after we began crossing the lanes we heard another boater make a securite call, the only radio traffic for the entire trip. Peter's advice helped keep safe more than one sailor that night.
Our plan called for an original destination of New Bedford MA but we had alternates set for Plymouth, Provincetown and Cape Cod Canal. As Meredith made her way across the shipping lanes the fog lifted. The Budget Committee and I discussed our plan and agreed to finish the trip as originally set.
Three a.m. saw us at the Cape Cod Canal which was perfect timing tide wise. The tide carries along the black, sodium lit canal at 10.5 knots. That was pretty cool.
Exiting the Canal we ran into the shallow water of Buzzard's Bay and then we found the real waves. Seems the South East wind had just moved a bit and now rose up to greet us as we entered Buzzard's Bay.
I don't think I have ever done a wheelie in a sailboat before. The waves were tall, close together and right on the nose. We tried tacking, slowing down and speeding up. We did not turn back. It was bearable. We watched the chart closely for the promised deeper water and in about 30 minutes found it and sanctuary.
The rest of the trip was a no brainer.
Which was about all the brain the Budget Committee and I could muster between us.
New Bedford, ME
Waking up in Yarmouth NS the morning after our late night foggy arrival was easy. Often I find it easy to wake up when some moron is banging on your hull with a log and yelling for all he is worth.
That is how it seemed anyway. In fact it was the very decent harbour master who had been sent out to our boat by Canadian Customs and Border Protection to demand that we present ourselves for clearing in. Given that we were Canadian and in Canada and had not left Canada I was inclined to take the offence. However the harbourmaster was such a nice guy I just could not do it. I don't know or care what happened to the CBP apes who seem to swarm over the Yarmouth docks but I hope it involved animal fecies.
We arranged with the harbourmaster to move from the mooring ball we had picked up in the rain and the wind and fog the previous night and move to the dock. Then Peter Loveridge who, with wife Heather, lives just out of Yarmouth called and our day was set.
We shared lunch at Rudder's Seafood restaurant downtown. I highly recommend the fish and scallop combo. With chips of course. Afterward Peter drove us to a good fuel station and the grocery and liquor store where we restocked and then it was off to this couple's home for drinks and talk. Peter showed us the fishing pens where the fishermen keep their boats - 30 to 50 boats in the tiniest little protected harbour you ever saw.
Peter brought out the manuscript for his newly revised Cruising Guide to Nova Scotia - a reem of paper printed both sides with full colour drawings throughout and set it in my lap.
I sat dumb. What do you say to a guy who has just put 3 years of his life into a work as he hands it to you. Flipping through the pages and offering "nice work" platitudes seems a bit rude. Peter had emailed us 3 chapters of his new work as we made our way south along the coast of Nova Scotia and we knew the contents were not only researched to the millimeter but we had tested several of his recommendation. The book was solid and Peter and Heather knew it. In the end we talked about publishing in the small Canadian book market.
We are now on the list for an early copy - No. 1, 2 or 3 I hope of the book, due to issue by year's end. I want a signed copy of course and an invitation to the launch party.
After checking passageweather.com on Peter's Internet we returned to Meredith about 10:30 p.m. sated: well fed, well watered and very tired.
Three boats had been at the municipal dock when we tied up in the morning. They were leaving overnight and asked us to join them. We had declined their offer to join the group as we did not agree with their timing. (of course we did not say that to them, pleading exhaustion and overconsumption of alcohol)
Next morning we walked the streets of a closed up downtown Yarmouth, had liesurely breakfast at the waterfront hotel and set off when our tide analysis, backed up by Peter of course, indicated we should.
Departure was about 9:00 a.m. on Sunday. The end of the good times.
Weather was forecast at very light North East wind, running 10 to 15 knots max over part of the morning and then falling to near zero for 2 days.
Instead the wind started at 10 knots south east and built over the day to 15, 20 and ultimately 25 gusting 30. As the south east wind met the ebbing tide of Fundy the result was holy rollers on a short leash - very tall short frequency confused sea slammers. Meredith, with 3 reefs in the main and the staysail flying loose was rocked from gunwale to gunwale. Every third wave grabbed the stern and just moved the transom wherever it damn well felt like - never the same place twice.
All was pandemonium, chaos. In 30 minutes every item on the boat that had not been adequately stowed away was on the cabin sole either thrown there by the waves or taken down by the Budget Committee and placed on the floor in a desperate bid to anticipate and avoid further damage.
Depending on whether the tide was ebb or flow for the next 30 hours we were in 4 to 5 metre waves or 3 to 4 meter waves with the occasional rogue wave thrown in just for fun.
At one point the auto pilot lost its hold and the boat swung around as a stern wave grabbed us and moved us out of its way. The Budget Committee swears she was standing on the walls of Meredith to remain upright. I was pretty busy trying to shut off the autopilot and regain some measure of control. We tried everything we knew to ease the motion of the boat and enjoyed limited success.
Mainly we just rode it out.
We did not have fun.
Midday on the second day out the wind died. On went the Beta. In came the fog. Thick, heavy, barely see the bow of the boat fog. Out came the radar reflector and the fog horn. At least it was calm. And quiet.
About 11 p.m. on the second day out we knew we were close to Race Point, the tip of Cape Cod. On the course we chose it was just at Race Point that we had to cross the Boston Harbour Shipping Lanes. The damn fog was becoming more than a nuisance.
Taking another of Peter's tips we made a Securite call, announcing our position and intention to cross the shipping lanes and giving an estimate of how long it would take. All that echoed back to us was fog muffled silence.
We girded ourselves and crossed, every sense tuned and pinging for targets as we did so. It took about an hour and a quarter. We survived.
About a half hour after we began crossing the lanes we heard another boater make a securite call, the only radio traffic for the entire trip. Peter's advice helped keep safe more than one sailor that night.
Our plan called for an original destination of New Bedford MA but we had alternates set for Plymouth, Provincetown and Cape Cod Canal. As Meredith made her way across the shipping lanes the fog lifted. The Budget Committee and I discussed our plan and agreed to finish the trip as originally set.
Three a.m. saw us at the Cape Cod Canal which was perfect timing tide wise. The tide carries along the black, sodium lit canal at 10.5 knots. That was pretty cool.
Exiting the Canal we ran into the shallow water of Buzzard's Bay and then we found the real waves. Seems the South East wind had just moved a bit and now rose up to greet us as we entered Buzzard's Bay.
I don't think I have ever done a wheelie in a sailboat before. The waves were tall, close together and right on the nose. We tried tacking, slowing down and speeding up. We did not turn back. It was bearable. We watched the chart closely for the promised deeper water and in about 30 minutes found it and sanctuary.
The rest of the trip was a no brainer.
Which was about all the brain the Budget Committee and I could muster between us.
Shelburne and Beyond
October 1, 2010
New Bedford, MA
Our plan in Halifax had been to make our way to Shelburne and then hightail it across the Bay of Fundy and Gulf of Maine. The first step, to Shelburne was complete albeit a day behind schedule, that is on our second day of travel we were one day behind.
We had wanted to visit Yarmouth and friends, Peter and Heather Loveridge, but this couple had been warning us for weeks that we needed to get out of Nova Scotia as fast as possible. We would get together another time.
Peter is the author of the Cruising Guide to Nova Scotia - the one with his name on it - which he has just finished updating. As we made our way along the Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia Peter emailed me copies of the galleys of his new work along with suggestions for anchorages, commentary on weather developments and other helpful bits.
First thing you do when sailing anywhere in Nova Scotia in September is check the weather. You then discount it 50% and add a 50% adverse direction/conditions factor. Even then you will usually find yourself having been too optimistic.
Awake in Shelburne at 8:00 a.m. ADT we tuned the forecast. It called for South winds and lots of them. We immediately cancelled plans to cross the Bay. The Bay of Fundy which enjoys a massive tide running in a roughly north south direction (north west is flood, south east is ebb). When a fast tidal current meets strong south east winds you get big waves. The Bay is also open to the South East and wind kicks up big waves even in a flood tide.
However south winds promised a fair sail to Yarmouth out of Shelburne. The trip carries you south out of Shelburne which is on the east coast, around Cape Sable at the southern tip of Nova Scotia and then North to Yarmouth on the West Coast. A nice 65 nm sail with some interesting coastline.
Now the second thing sailors do in Nova Scotia is check the tide. To make an efficient sail from Shelburne to Yarmouth you want to leave Shelburne about 4 hours before low tide at Cape Sable. This way you get some ebb tide assisting you southward out of Shelburne, neutral tide while you round Cape Sable and flood tide to carry you north to Yarmouth.
As we finished paying for our mooring ball we realized we were just in time for a perfect run to Yarmouth.
And a perfect run it was. Fabulous Nova Scotia scenery - vaguely reminiscent of parts of Manitoulin Island right until dark. We chose the inside route around Sable which kept us close to the point and required close attention to navigation but which saved us a lot of time compared to going way outside to avoid the rocky places. This is a good weather strategy. The Coast Guard keeps a lifeboat on permanent duty at Clarke Harbour on the south tip of Cape Sable Island for those who misjudge.
By sunset we had made it around Cape SableAs Ra, the sun god, retired from the horizon, he was replaced with whimsical Seth, god of mischief and storms. The curtain of darkness brought with it rain and then fog and then heavy fog.
The navigation aids in Nova Scotia are phenomenal. There are a lot of lights but they are logically placed and the timing chosen for the flashing pattern is very common sense. The lights directed us to Yarmouth unerringly.
As we closed on Yarmouth we found ourselves making 7 kn then 8 then 9 and finally 9.8 knots. We had only 12 knots apparent off the stern (those south winds, remember) so the tide strategy was paying handsome dividends.
By the time we got to Yarmouth Bay the fog had thickened to the point we could not follow the red markers into Yarmouth Harbour. While passing one red buoy we could not find the next in the mist. Thank goodness for a reliable chartplotter to help keep our course in the channel.
Also as we entered the long arm off the ocean leading into Yarmout the wind began to climb. That and we turned 90 degrees to the wind so the 12 knots apparent wind became 18 knots and 20 knots. By the time we made the harbour the wind was blowing 25 knots, we could not see 100 feet in the lighted harbour and we were glad to be where we were.
We were so happy to have arrived the Budget Committee muttered not one word of protest as she hauled up and connected the bridle from the municipal mooring ball we picked up - with her bare hands:
Crossing the Bay of Fundy/Gulf of Maine - Some Planning Ideas
There are three alternatives to making your way from Nova Scotia to New England.
Many people elect the short option and sail from Yarmouth to North East Harbour or Bar Harbour ME. This is a short crossing, say 100 nm depending on your destination, but leaves a lot of coastline to traverse southward. It is inefficient but minimizes the time your boat is exposed to the elements.
Experienced sailors, those who have no desire to see any part of New England, will choose a destination on Long Island, Block Island or even further south which allows them to sail outside the massive shoals found at Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard. Depending on where they land they will travel 350 nm or more to a destination.
We elected a middle distance route: Yarmouth to Cape Cod Bay. This took us some 200 nm southwest out of Yarmouth. It reduced the distance we would have to travel but allowed us to sail Cape Cod, traverse the Cape Cod Canal and run along the New England Coast for a good bit before meeting up with Cape Cod sticks out from mainland New England like a Scorpion tale. People travelling south from Bar Harbour or Bangor ME have to either go well offshore to avoid this Cape and the Nantucket/Martha's Vineyard shoals that lie south of it or make their way inside, through Cape Cod Bay, to Cape Cod Canal and easy passage south to safe water.
The trip itself is the subject of the next post.
New Bedford, MA
South Western Shore Treats Await the Sailor in Nova Scotia
Our plan in Halifax had been to make our way to Shelburne and then hightail it across the Bay of Fundy and Gulf of Maine. The first step, to Shelburne was complete albeit a day behind schedule, that is on our second day of travel we were one day behind.
We had wanted to visit Yarmouth and friends, Peter and Heather Loveridge, but this couple had been warning us for weeks that we needed to get out of Nova Scotia as fast as possible. We would get together another time.
Peter is the author of the Cruising Guide to Nova Scotia - the one with his name on it - which he has just finished updating. As we made our way along the Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia Peter emailed me copies of the galleys of his new work along with suggestions for anchorages, commentary on weather developments and other helpful bits.
First thing you do when sailing anywhere in Nova Scotia in September is check the weather. You then discount it 50% and add a 50% adverse direction/conditions factor. Even then you will usually find yourself having been too optimistic.
Awake in Shelburne at 8:00 a.m. ADT we tuned the forecast. It called for South winds and lots of them. We immediately cancelled plans to cross the Bay. The Bay of Fundy which enjoys a massive tide running in a roughly north south direction (north west is flood, south east is ebb). When a fast tidal current meets strong south east winds you get big waves. The Bay is also open to the South East and wind kicks up big waves even in a flood tide.
However south winds promised a fair sail to Yarmouth out of Shelburne. The trip carries you south out of Shelburne which is on the east coast, around Cape Sable at the southern tip of Nova Scotia and then North to Yarmouth on the West Coast. A nice 65 nm sail with some interesting coastline.
Now the second thing sailors do in Nova Scotia is check the tide. To make an efficient sail from Shelburne to Yarmouth you want to leave Shelburne about 4 hours before low tide at Cape Sable. This way you get some ebb tide assisting you southward out of Shelburne, neutral tide while you round Cape Sable and flood tide to carry you north to Yarmouth.
As we finished paying for our mooring ball we realized we were just in time for a perfect run to Yarmouth.
And a perfect run it was. Fabulous Nova Scotia scenery - vaguely reminiscent of parts of Manitoulin Island right until dark. We chose the inside route around Sable which kept us close to the point and required close attention to navigation but which saved us a lot of time compared to going way outside to avoid the rocky places. This is a good weather strategy. The Coast Guard keeps a lifeboat on permanent duty at Clarke Harbour on the south tip of Cape Sable Island for those who misjudge.
By sunset we had made it around Cape SableAs Ra, the sun god, retired from the horizon, he was replaced with whimsical Seth, god of mischief and storms. The curtain of darkness brought with it rain and then fog and then heavy fog.
The navigation aids in Nova Scotia are phenomenal. There are a lot of lights but they are logically placed and the timing chosen for the flashing pattern is very common sense. The lights directed us to Yarmouth unerringly.
As we closed on Yarmouth we found ourselves making 7 kn then 8 then 9 and finally 9.8 knots. We had only 12 knots apparent off the stern (those south winds, remember) so the tide strategy was paying handsome dividends.
By the time we got to Yarmouth Bay the fog had thickened to the point we could not follow the red markers into Yarmouth Harbour. While passing one red buoy we could not find the next in the mist. Thank goodness for a reliable chartplotter to help keep our course in the channel.
Also as we entered the long arm off the ocean leading into Yarmout the wind began to climb. That and we turned 90 degrees to the wind so the 12 knots apparent wind became 18 knots and 20 knots. By the time we made the harbour the wind was blowing 25 knots, we could not see 100 feet in the lighted harbour and we were glad to be where we were.
We were so happy to have arrived the Budget Committee muttered not one word of protest as she hauled up and connected the bridle from the municipal mooring ball we picked up - with her bare hands:
Crossing the Bay of Fundy/Gulf of Maine - Some Planning Ideas
There are three alternatives to making your way from Nova Scotia to New England.
Many people elect the short option and sail from Yarmouth to North East Harbour or Bar Harbour ME. This is a short crossing, say 100 nm depending on your destination, but leaves a lot of coastline to traverse southward. It is inefficient but minimizes the time your boat is exposed to the elements.
Experienced sailors, those who have no desire to see any part of New England, will choose a destination on Long Island, Block Island or even further south which allows them to sail outside the massive shoals found at Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard. Depending on where they land they will travel 350 nm or more to a destination.
We elected a middle distance route: Yarmouth to Cape Cod Bay. This took us some 200 nm southwest out of Yarmouth. It reduced the distance we would have to travel but allowed us to sail Cape Cod, traverse the Cape Cod Canal and run along the New England Coast for a good bit before meeting up with Cape Cod sticks out from mainland New England like a Scorpion tale. People travelling south from Bar Harbour or Bangor ME have to either go well offshore to avoid this Cape and the Nantucket/Martha's Vineyard shoals that lie south of it or make their way inside, through Cape Cod Bay, to Cape Cod Canal and easy passage south to safe water.
The trip itself is the subject of the next post.
The Weight Watchers Apology
October 1, 2010
New Bedford, MA
Before the next instalment we offer our apologies to readers for the interruption in posts. We blame it on dieting.
In the crossing of the Bay of Fundy our poor Meredith was tossed about as if her 25,000 lb. ballast were an irrelevance. That was an impressive weight loss program to be sure. Treating the crew like chicken in a shake and bake bag did wonders for their calorie consumption as well.
24 hours into our crossing of the Bay of Funday everything in the boat was on the floor, only half of it because we put it there to prevent it from being broken. The other half found its own way. Some of that stuff did not make it, like our wireless USB network dongle. This cheap device allows us to reach somewhat more distant wireless networks than did the built in units in our laptops. Helpful when you are on a mooring ball and not in the marina office. Like we are right now.
The usb plug on the dongle was bent at an unappealing 90 degrees to the norm, its plastic case was smashed and when plugged in to the laptop (hope springs eternal) the poor thing just sat there looking dead.
Since we are on a mooring ball in our 4th day of 35 knot winds, give or take, I have had some time to play with useless projects. Even hopeless projects. Like the USB dongle. I mean we were not going ashore for internet.
Armed only with a soldering iron and the immovable but thoroughly unjustified belief I could not make things worse I went to work on the corpse of the dongle.
I don't often solder printed circuit boards. They are finicky things, small and coated in protective coating, with printed leads that look substantial but are really thinner than the cheap chinese aluminum foil the Budget Committee buys at the Dollarama. And the wind keeps gusting to 45 knots and the boat moves.
But through no process known to me it seems to have worked. I am online. Sort of. Just so long as the Budget Committee holds the dongle in her left hand while aligning herself in an East West axis while applying 47 newton metres of force in a lateral direction to the dongle plug.
So it may take a while. The Budget Committee keeps wanting to go to the bathroom and she gets all fidgety and throws the alignment out of whack.
Soon though.
New Bedford, MA
You Can See One of the Very Poor Solder Connections
Made Aboard Meredith to Enable Wireless
Before the next instalment we offer our apologies to readers for the interruption in posts. We blame it on dieting.
In the crossing of the Bay of Fundy our poor Meredith was tossed about as if her 25,000 lb. ballast were an irrelevance. That was an impressive weight loss program to be sure. Treating the crew like chicken in a shake and bake bag did wonders for their calorie consumption as well.
24 hours into our crossing of the Bay of Funday everything in the boat was on the floor, only half of it because we put it there to prevent it from being broken. The other half found its own way. Some of that stuff did not make it, like our wireless USB network dongle. This cheap device allows us to reach somewhat more distant wireless networks than did the built in units in our laptops. Helpful when you are on a mooring ball and not in the marina office. Like we are right now.
The usb plug on the dongle was bent at an unappealing 90 degrees to the norm, its plastic case was smashed and when plugged in to the laptop (hope springs eternal) the poor thing just sat there looking dead.
Since we are on a mooring ball in our 4th day of 35 knot winds, give or take, I have had some time to play with useless projects. Even hopeless projects. Like the USB dongle. I mean we were not going ashore for internet.
Armed only with a soldering iron and the immovable but thoroughly unjustified belief I could not make things worse I went to work on the corpse of the dongle.
I don't often solder printed circuit boards. They are finicky things, small and coated in protective coating, with printed leads that look substantial but are really thinner than the cheap chinese aluminum foil the Budget Committee buys at the Dollarama. And the wind keeps gusting to 45 knots and the boat moves.
But through no process known to me it seems to have worked. I am online. Sort of. Just so long as the Budget Committee holds the dongle in her left hand while aligning herself in an East West axis while applying 47 newton metres of force in a lateral direction to the dongle plug.
So it may take a while. The Budget Committee keeps wanting to go to the bathroom and she gets all fidgety and throws the alignment out of whack.
Soon though.
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