Blog » Tracy Mazzeo http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog Women cruisers share their experiences, info and news Mon, 23 Oct 2017 21:55:47 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=3.8.41 The Shakedown Cruise http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog/2017/07/the-shakedown-cruise/ http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog/2017/07/the-shakedown-cruise/#comments Sun, 02 Jul 2017 23:27:08 +0000 http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog/?p=9934 So here it is… finally – our shakedown cruise!

After 22 months of upgrades, projects, renovations, busted knuckles, bloodied toes, cursing, drinking, more cursing and drinking, we are as ready as we’re going to be. We are going somewhere, people!!

Our cast of characters includes my husband, Captain Ken, the First Mate (me), Ken’s teenage son (Ken ...Read more]]> So here it is… finally – our shakedown cruise!

After 22 months of upgrades, projects, renovations, busted knuckles, bloodied toes, cursing, drinking, more cursing and drinking, we are as ready as we’re going to be. We are going somewhere, people!!

Our cast of characters includes my husband, Captain Ken, the First Mate (me), Ken’s teenage son (Ken Jr.) and our cat, Spinnaker aboard Makana, our Morgan 384, and a similar crew (minus a cat) aboard Eagles Wings, our friends’ Morgan Out Island.

Two weeks, from Gulfport, Mississippi to Port St. Joe, Florida and back (with some stops along the way).

The night before we set sail we stay aboard in the harbor so we can get an early start. My brain won’t shut off and sleep just doesn’t seem to be working out, so I very ungracefully stumble over the Captain out of the V-berth before dawn, and see the cat perched perfectly still on the galley counter. She is staring at the sleeping teen in the quarter berth – I suspect she is plotting to steal his breath, and I make a mental note to monitor her creepiness.

Captain Ken says your crew can make you look really good or really bad. The relative inexperience of this First Mate tends to lean more towards “mediocre”. Sometimes our docking is smooth and impressive. Sometimes it’s a clown show.

Aware that our dock friends will be seeing us off, I’m fully expecting the circus music to be blaring…

Day 1

7:55 AM we cast off the dock lines.

The First Mate doesn’t drop a single line in the water – not one! Alright! Of course my excitement is short lived as my thoughts of a 15 degree heel are squashed by the fact that we have no wind. Sails are up but the motor is running.

About an hour into our journey our newly installed (second hand) autopilot, Striker, is being a jerk. He is meandering and swerving like a distracted driver on a cell phone. The Captain is fixing to give him an attitude adjustment that may not end well for either of them.

Striker vs Captain

All this swerving makes me think he may have had one too many and I take a quick inventory of the ship’s bar. But, by early afternoon Striker seems to have settled down and sobered up. I’m honing some mad fly swatter skills.

Day 2

The overnight watches went well, but the Captain and I pretty much spent most of the night in the cockpit taking turns napping. We motor sailed all night and I’ve started to strongly dislike the noise.

The lady of Eagles Wings and I chatted a bit on the radio while we were both on watch, and I figured as long as I still had her in sight all was good.

At about 7:45 AM while the Captain was below deck napping, the chart plotter said “Caution: Missile Test Area”. Wonder if I need to ask him about that?

I have Eagles Wings to my Starboard and she is sailing fearlessly through without hesitation, so I guess we’re good, right?

Finally about mid-day we have enough wind to shut this motor off! I’m grateful for the silence and the dolphins playing at the bow. The closer we got to Port St. Joe, the sportier the sail became. There’s water splashing over the bow and the boat is rocking and rolling.

This was a lot of fun, except for Spinnaker who we discovered finds a sporty sail a bit nauseating. A shout out to the person who invented disinfecting wipes…

Only 36 hours in and already a few new traditions were being forged aboard Makana: when dolphins come to visit you stop whatever you are doing and scurry up to the bow to enjoy the entertainment. If Son of a Son of a Sailor comes up on the playlist, the Captain and First Mate stop their conversation mid-sentence and sing along word for word.

Meanwhile, the teenager has been asleep more than he has been awake, and I secretly wonder if the cat’s breath – stealing stare is to blame.

We anchored up after dark in Port St. Joe, put up our fancy new wind catcher, opened all hatches and ports guided by the forecast of no rain.

But, we made a rookie mistake in trusting that forecast and at about 3 AM said un-forecasted rain came. Mad dash to close up hatches and ports! The Captain had an entertaining wrestling match with the wind catcher.

Day 3

Plans for some serious beach time!

While I was in the galley washing the breakfast dishes Captain and the teenager worked on lowering the dinghy into the water. We keep ours on the deck and the outboard motor sits on the stern rail, so we really flirt with disaster when it’s time to move that thing around.

I hear the Captain say to let it down slowly, followed by something falling, footsteps running all over the deck…
“Get the boat hook!”
“Does that piece float?”
“Should I jump in and get that?”

That ruckus was followed by clapping and cheering coming from Eagles Wings. All I know is, the dinghy was in the water, right side up, and the motor was attached. I probably don’t need to know anything more.

So, we spent hours at a pretty little beach emptying our coolers of their beer supplies.

At our exclusive beach in Port St. Joe

While heading back to the boats, our outboard decided to take a break and leave us stranded 50 yards from where we frolicked. We got a tow from Eagles Wings’ dinghy. Our outboard is feeling the wrath of the Captain.

Day 4

I’m thinking the dinghy motor is in cahoots with Striker. The Captain seems to have things sorted out so he and the teenager take it for a spin… a very short spin. Let’s call the first half of today “outboard motor rebuild”.

Observing the Captain’s method of disassembling the motor with all of its small, non-floating pieces while it is still attached to the dinghy, which is still in the water, seems to me like maybe not the best idea. But, I’m not offering my opinion to a frustrated Captain at this time. Going to work on my tan.

Final consensus of both Captains: bad fuel.

Day 5

Anchored near Panama City

Mother Nature was pretty cranky last night, and we are sailing out of Port St. Joe in the rain this morning. But, we found a beautiful anchorage in Panama City! This is where we had perhaps the most bizarre experience of the trip.

After some afternoon beach time (I’m sensing a theme here), we enjoyed a fantastic steak dinner aboard Eagles Wings. While on deck enjoying drinks, a voice was calling out from the pitch black. A small boat with no lighting and a very intoxicated skipper came into view.

It was a really weird encounter – he said he was from a neighboring houseboat, and his ramblings included a ten minute dissertation on thick cut bacon, an invite to breakfast, and an ominous warning of “it’s real nice in here now, but wait until about two or three in the morning”.

Well, his warning didn’t disappoint, and at 2:30 AM the winds picked up to 25 – 30 knots and rocked and rolled us for a bit.

Day 6

More rain. The Captains are conferring on our next move. I’m calculating if I’ve collected enough rain water to wash some clothes that are talking back to me.

Eagles Wings needed a generator part sent via overnight delivery, and we get hooked up at a local yacht club for the evening. Hmmm… shore power (which means we can run air conditioning), an opportunity to refill water tanks and get more ice, you know what? Count us in!

Let me tell you, the folks at this little yacht club in Panama City were some of the most friendly, accommodating, fantastic people I’ve ever met. We enjoyed a delicious lunch and outstanding service.

Day 7

Teenager training for Olympic sleeping

It didn’t take long for the crews of both vessels to get spoiled by the benefits of being hooked up to shore power. I think the teenager might be training for the sleeping Olympics.

The generator part arrived for Eagles Wings (hand delivered down the dock by the yacht club staff), and the two Captains got it installed with only a little bit of cursing.

It was still early so we sailed back to the anchorage from the night before. After some rum-flavored courage, the two Captains, myself and our teenager (minus the rum-flavored courage) wandered over to the houseboat of the late night visitor. We figured, for our own peace of mind, we should investigate. Talk of the possibility of finding bones of missing mariners on the houseboat carried on until we got over to his place. What we found was absolutely the opposite of what we thought!

A beautiful, home built two story house boat, nicely appointed and furnished, and the very friendly (still very intoxicated) owner who gave us a full tour of the place! He was delighted to share his story of building it and where it has been. He invited us back any time we were in the area. I have to admit, I was quite relieved…

Day 8

A sporty sail to Destin is forecasted.

I gave the cat some sea sick preventative (and probably should have considered some for myself and the teenager – but who knew?). The forecast didn’t disappoint and we enjoyed some big swells and a very dicey sail/motor into the inlet. Makana even did a little surfing.

We decided to go out for a nice dinner, enjoyed a cool shower and was looking forward to a good sleep, until the cat flushed out – gasp! A cockroach! There will be no sleep for any aboard! Captain Ken dumps out the entire wet locker so the cat can look for the roach, but the cat declines and curls up for a nap instead.

Emptying lockers on a cockroach hunt

Day 9

Happy Flag Day! Raise the black, thieves! Destin is a blast.

We spent the day marinating in waist deep clear water at Crab Island, losing count of how many beers it takes before you think performing stunts on a rented paddle board is a good idea.

Paddleboarding – not exactly perfect form!

The lady of Eagles Wings decides to try hot Cajun boiled peanuts that vendors in little boats are peddling. We have now discovered an obsession that we still cannot let go of…

Day 10

Destin

We decide to spend another day in Destin due to predicted rough seas and unsafe conditions in the inlet. Tough gig.

I notice my skin looks like leather and the skin on my feet has a subtle burning sensation. I wonder if having wet feet for ten days is a problem? Eh – who cares. I have beer, ocean and hot Cajun boiled peanuts.

Day 11

Pulled anchor early to head over to Big Lagoon near Pensacola. Three to five foot seas and ten to fifteen knot winds predicted. The cat, teenager and I partake in some sea sick preventative this time. Both ships punch through the inlet easily.

I agreed with the three to five foot seas but not a lick of wind! The drone of the motor and the diesel fumes wafting into the cockpit makes me want to look into a sculling oar. I ask the Captain if that’s feasible. We could make the engine room into a fantastic fridge/freezer combo! Right? I’m fully aware this isn’t actually an option…

Day 12

The Captain is still concerned about the stowaway cockroach. The cat was alerting to something in the headliner which renewed the roach panic. I try to talk the crew down off the ledge… and the Captain of Eagles Wings brings us some bug killer.

Minds are eased and we enjoy a great day exploring Fort McCree, marinating in salt water and watching the Blue Angels practice.

Day 13

Roberts Bayou anchorage

Big Lagoon has been so still – no breeze at all. I begin to wonder how it is that one can sweat continuously for days on end and not die? I think the teenager is counting the minutes until he can get off the boat.

We pull anchor and head out to relocate to Robert’s Bayou. The teenager mentions he awoke to find the cat giving him the breath stealing stare. I’m convinced something is up with that little fuzzy thing.

In Robert’s Bayou the adults enjoy Bushwackers at Pirate’s Cove on the recommendation of Eagles Wings crew. I don’t know what exactly is in those drinks but I think it is actually crack for sailors. I had to get a T-shirt from this place…

Day 14

Awoke to find the cat plotting to steal MY breath now! The Captain and I are surprisingly chipper after an unknown number of Bushwackers followed by the adults of both crews polishing off a bottle of rum aboard Makana. Side note – the teenager found us at our most entertaining that night.

We’re headed toward either Pettit Bois or Horn Island, depending on the wind (like, if there is any wind). The winds were actually gusty in Mobile Bay and I’m on high alert.

I’ve heard people say if you’re thinking about reefing your sails, you should just do it. So, after having this conversation for about ten minutes, a big gust caught our sails (and we had full sails out), Makana heeled hard to starboard, the sails went for a salt water dip and the Captain fought to regain control with his feet on the wall of the cockpit and his elbow touching the floor.

I grabbed for the coaming board, lifeline, whatever I could to keep from flying off the port side and crashing into the sleeping teenager (who was now wide awake). Anything on the port side that was not strongly secured was now somewhere else. Sea water poured over the starboard gunnel and into the cockpit. It was pretty “exciting” but not in a really good way.

Once the Captain regained control, I marched right down below, grabbed my harness, clipped in and marched my happy butt up to the mast and reefed that sail down!

After the initial startled feeling subsided, I was angry because we knew better. I spent the next half hour texting the lady of Eagles Wings all about it. (I’m having a hard time letting go of my constant connection to technology).

We made it to Petti Bois Island, anchored, ate and went to bed.

Makana at sunset, anchored at Petti Bois Island

Day 15

I can’t believe our adventure is coming to an end.

We sailed toward Gulfport and even though we finally had twenty knots of wind, it was directly off our nose. I wish we could have snapped a photo of our two amazing, tough boats sailing toward the harbor side by side.

We were greeted at the dock by our wonderful marina neighbors and friends who were curious and excited to hear about our adventures on the high seas! Queue the circus music for the docking fiasco.

I would say this was one of the greatest adventure of my life so far, and I was so lucky to have my family and great friends to share it with. The crews of both boats are already talking of the next adventure together.

On another side note, while doing some post-voyage cleaning the roach was located; squished under a rug outside of the ship’s head, and very dead and probably for quite some time. You had one job, cat.

Things I learned:
  • Running the motor for any length of time annoys me.
  • You can never have enough sunscreen
  • Blue crabs enjoy spoiled meat thrown overboard
  • Sea sick preventative is very helpful, however sleeping for almost an entire day is a disappointing side effect.
  • It’s impossible to have a playlist everyone likes
  • When discussing the possibility of needing to reef sails, shut up and get it done
  • I’m much better at this than I thought.
About Tracy Mazzeo

Tracy on the journey back home

Tracy, her husband Ken and cat Spinnaker live aboard Makana, their Morgan 384 sailboat in the Florida Keys. They cruise every chance they get with plans to cruise full time in the next couple of years.

They have spent the last three years sailing and refurbishing Makana, starting on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi and then moving to their current marina home in Tavernier.

Many repairs, upgrades and sailing adventures have been documented on their S/V Makana Facebook page.

Learn more
]]> http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog/2017/07/the-shakedown-cruise/feed/ 0 My first sailing experience http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog/2014/03/my-first-sailing-experience/ http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog/2014/03/my-first-sailing-experience/#comments Sun, 02 Mar 2014 09:43:31 +0000 http://www.womenandcruising.com/blog/?p=8511 Read more]]>

Trying to capture the weather and waves

“No problem! It’s cool!“

My naive enthusiasm and cluelessness must have been painfully obvious to my boyfriend Ken (now my husband – so you know this story has a happy ending)… He had been on the water his whole life: surfing, boating, sailing, diving, even his day job involves him being on a boat most of the time. I considered myself pretty adventurous… but in a very “landlubber” way. Muscle cars, dirt bikes, motorcycles, off roading, rock concerts, mosh pits. Pretty fearless, right? There’s no way a little sailboat ride would be a problem.

When we first started working on FILTHY OAR  in the yard
Her new color
Captain Ken: taken when we first motored out of the yard’s dock

I guess the first clue that I had no clue was while looking for our first sailboat, everything in our price range needed work. Lots of work… it seemed overwhelming, but we eventually found a 27′ 1977 Canadian Sailcraft.

Before we could move her to the marina we wanted she needed some attention. Bottom job, paint, all new through hulls, valves, a few blister repairs… you get the idea. The previous owner (who used her as an apartment) was even kind enough to leave us a microwave with an old dried up hot dog in it!

She spent about five weeks on the hard, and we spent nearly every free moment painting, cleaning, sweating, cursing, but in the end so proud of how great she looked when we were done!

We re-named her the Filthy Oar (it was a tongue in cheek play on words, and the Coast Guard even stopped us once because they just had to know what kind of people would be aboard a boat with a name like that)!

I figured at this point we were ready to go! And bless Ken’s heart, he allowed me to feel like we just had a few more little things to do…

The weekend we planned to sail her from the boat yard to the marina was forecast to be stormy. Ken sweetly reminded me that it would be “a little rough and very wet” for the journey. No problem! I’m not worried in the least…We figured there was a chance we could make the 50 mile trip in one day, but allowed for two. We motored through the channels for quite some time finally getting into Lake Ponchatrain.

I was blissfully unaware of just how exciting this journey would be as I chattered on about how the sun was out and tried to figure out steering with a tiller.

Me learning to use the tiller with the ominous sky building behind me

As the day went on, Poseidon’s mood turned… we faced a tremendous head current and our little 8HP motor was struggling. We caught up to a group of beautiful sailboats, all under full sail (while we still motored, not fully trusting the lines and rigging yet). I waved enthusiastically to our fellow boaters and studied their heel angles, their witty names and their full crews.

They looked at us a little strangely, and only later did it occur to us that we had intruded on an actual sailboat race! Imagine what they were thinking as this little jalopy boat cruised into their “pod” not even bothering to raise her sails. We still laugh about it.

Time to hoist the sails! Ken went forward and attached the hank on jib. He tried to explain turning into the wind so the sails could be raised. Ummm… ok. I was able to figure out when the wind was in my face, but keeping the boat in that direction while the increasingly angry water and winds jostled us around was tougher than I thought. He patiently instructed me on windward and leeward (please – just say left or right), on reading the water (looks dark and murky to me), figuring out direction (again, left or right). With only a hand held GPS and hand held radio for electronics, I was completely lost. And then the skies opened up…

I found seasickness was only a problem if I went down into the cabin, so I stayed in the open cockpit with Captain Ken. The rain stung, and with no reefing lines in the sails, we had no way to reef… so the toe rail spent some time buried in the water and I spent some time sliding off the seat. The winds were unpredictable and we had more than a few unexpected jibes so remembering to keep my head clear of the boom just added to the list of things I was trying to jam into my sailing database.

We decided to anchor for the night by Half Moon Island in the Mississippi Sound. Ken yelled over the howling wind and driving rain to point into the wind, back up, go forward, while setting the anchor. Somehow, he got it set and we could settle in for the night… right… In his usual calm manner, he made us soup (which my slight seasickness and claustrophobia made impossible to enjoy). Side note: if you are claustrophobic you’ll need to conquer or at least control that on a small sailboat.

Sleeping was yet another difficult task. Not understanding shipping channels and depth of water, all I could imagine was being run over by a barge in the middle of the night or smacked into by a whale – both scenarios were not even possible where we were anchored, but what did I know? My fears were getting the best of me. Needless to say, not one moment of sleep was had.

Poseidon did give us a few hours of calm, during which time a flock of seagulls hovered at our stern illuminated by the red light of a headlamp Ken was wearing! Beeping and flapping madly, seeming to look into the companionway at me, kind of funny, kind of weird, kind of creepy…but the entertainment was short lived, as the winds picked up, the rain started again and the boat rocked and rolled. I can still hear the sound of the wind blowing angrily through the rigging, and it’s a sound that still unnerves me a bit today.

Morning brought more of the same and threw in some lightning for good measure. Hauling the anchor almost proved to be my breaking point. Again, Ken yelling over the wind for me to turn windward or leeward (right or left!!!!), and each time the bow plunged under water, I envisioned that would be the time Ken would be washed overboard and I would have absolutely no idea what to do.

He told me later, looking back at my face during this whole anchor raising fiasco, it hurt his heart to see the fear, frustration and confusion I was feeling. He figured at that point I was done with this sailing business and we had just blown our entire savings on a boat that I might never step foot on again…

Once on the move, we raised the sails again, and something kind of cool happened! We caught a strong wind just right, and we settled into a steep heel angle, buried the port rail and the Filthy Oar sailed! We sailed beautifully and were excited that our little 6,600 lb. sailboat with her fin keel hauled through the water and displayed her stout craftsmanship!

Finally, I was smiling again. Suddenly I wasn’t a useless crew member but a sailing enthusiast! I was trying to use all the lingo Ken had tried to teach me, snapped photos, went on and on about the wind in my face and the water soaking me to the bone like an old salty sailor…

And then… POW! Let me share that being hit in the face with a mainsheet traveler car that broke off the end of its track will tighten you up real quick. Just when I thought I might be having fun…

Our final task of docking brought me a whole new feeling of ineptitude… after bobbing around (well, more like being tossed around) waiting for enough of a break in the weather to safely navigate into the marina while lightning cracked all around us (I was pretty sure we would meet our demise being barbequed just outside of the Long Beach, MS marina), we got our chance to motor in and find our slip.

Ken sent me forward and gave instruction on getting a line on the dock piling. I was kneeling on the bow with a mound of line in my lap, soaked, exhausted, frustrated and pretty much envisioning the calamity of us plowing into the dock while I was tangled up in a heap of line.

Then, as if the Gods were finally feeling sorry for me, a smiling, thin, tan, friendly fellow appeared on the pier next to us. “Hi there! Y’all need some help?” Without hesitating, I tossed him the mass of tangled line in my lap. He grabbed it like a pro and helped us get tied up. Who hangs out on the dock in a lightning storm waiting for wayward sailors? That guy! Thank you, Poseidon. As an offering I’ll pour some rum into the sea (if I ever get on this boat again).

FILTHY OAR

In the following year, Ol’ Filthy was pretty much redone top to bottom, starting with the mainsheet traveler that had dealt me the rude uppercut. She became our very favorite friend. Weekends were always spent with her. I got cool gifts like foul weather gear, boat shoes, turks head bracelets, fast-dry clothes, brass bells… I sewed all new cushion covers, organized, varnished, and most importantly fell in love with sailing!

We’ve gone sailing in not-so-nice weather, and I actually felt confident that no one would fall overboard and we wouldn’t be sunk by barges or whales. No one was more surprised by that than me.

We’ve moved on from the Filthy Oar and have embarked on our future home, Makana, a 1983 38′ Morgan.

MAKANA at the dock

MAKANA Maiden Voyage

We’ve downsized our belongings and upgraded our new vessel. She will be a full time liveaboard in three years, and a full time cruiser in five. Gifts consist of “things we need for the boat”. Financial planning revolves around setting ourselves up for cruising the Caribbean.

I read and research, organize and plan, add to my “boat music” playlist and can mix a mean rum drink! We take our friends out and I hoist sails and work lines like I actually might know what I’m doing. While Ken attends to safety, mechanical, structural and rigging aspects, I work on creature comforts and cosmetics.

And although my skills and confidence have improved tremendously, I’m pretty sure that naive (but determined) sailor is who I really am!

About Tracy Mazzeo

I reside in Louisiana with my husband Ken and stepson near the Mississippi Gulf Coast and we take every opportunity to sail our Morgan 384 while we continue to upgrade her for full time cruising. I’m continuing to research and plan for creature comforts and have become slightly more confident in my sailing and docking skills. I guess you could say I’ve been promoted to First Mate! I still enjoy a good rock concert too.

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