THE ROBERT MANRY PROJECT - MANRY AT SEA ~ In the Wake of a Dream. The story of a dream that came true

 

Tinkerbelle's logbook, page 1. 1965
Tinkerbelle’s logbook, page 1.

Logbook of Tinkerbelle – Part 1

Tuesday June 1, ’65

Got last minute things ready and set sail from Falmouth about 11:30 DST. Inside harbor breeze was light. Had to tack out. Then, outside, breeze was from southwest and had to tack out of Vineyard Sound.

Got out of the Sound as darkness fell. I had lost my bearings to some extent getting out and around No Man’s Land Island. But once I got well out to sea I took a course of 157º True which was to get across the shipping lanes to my next point of departure at 39º40′ N – 70º20′ W. Saw trawler.

(Incidentally, in Vineyard Sound I saw a large fish, looked like a shark, leap out of the water.)

Wednesday June 2

I was becalmed so I thought I’d rest a bit and lay down on deck. When I woke up I was surrounded by dense fog. I put my radar reflector up and got my fog horn handy. Every now and then it would rain and that cleared the fog for a little while, but it was soon back. There was just enough breeze to keep steerage way on Tinkerbelle.

In the afternoon I judged I must be somewhere near Nantucket Light because ships were going by all around me in the fog. It was a bit scary. One ship appeared out of the fog like a ghost, spotted me and gave a blast on its horn. I gave three blasts on my horn in return. (I think that’s the signal that you’re a sailboat and becalmed). That was the only ship I actually saw.

Thursday, June 3

It rained hard about 2 a.m. and cleared after that. I could see bright lights set up to guide ships into New York harbor. But soon a thunder and lightning storm blew up. I was thankful Tinkerbelle had a lightning rod although I didn’t relish the thought of it being put to use. After the thunderstorm the wind freshened until it was blowing 30-40-45 m.p.h., a real gale and my first one alone in a sailboat.

I put out the sea anchor with 100 feet of line, took off the rudder (if the rudder was down she’d ride broadside to the waves. I took off all sail and buttoned everything up tight. We rode it out Tinkerbelle and I, drifting to the southeast. There were some waves I took to be 10-12 feet high, but Tink took ’em in her stride. I was proud of her.

>When the storm subsided I sailed toward the northeast, still not knowing exactly where I was. I sailed and sailed until finally I just had to have some sleep. So I put the sea anchor again, hoisted the anchor light and snuggled down for a good six or seven hours.

Friday, June 4

I woke much refreshed just after the alarm had gone off. I cooked myself a hot meal, shaved and tidied up. Since the breeze was light 8-10 m.p.h and from the west, I winged out the two genoas with the oars and we have been heading east all day. While the boat was sailing herself I tried to work out a shot of the sun I’d taken earlier to find out where I am. But I couldn’t manage it. Then at noon I stopped to take a noon sight of the sun, but I used the plastic sextant and that apparently wasn’t too good. The figures put me at latitude 45º N. and I just know I can’t be that far north. I’ll try again tomorrow.

The first ship came up to look me over about 5:30. It was the fishing boat Major J. Casey. (Canadian or American). I tried to get them to give me my position, but I guess they didn’t understand. They just asked where I was bound and then sped off to the southeast.

The wind grew stronger and I doused the twin genoas and proceeded under one alone. And that gave us about 5-6 knots. It was a beautiful thing if it weren’t for the danger. Wave after wave of phosphorescent surf. And Tinkerbelle’s wake lit up like a Roman candle.

Saturday, June 5

I did some experimenting with sea anchors today to find the best setup to use in a storm. One rig I tried was the anchor and canvas bucket together. When I pulled it up the bucket was full of sand. And here I thought I was in great depths.

I took a noon latitude sight of the sun and it put me in the latitude of Cultivator Shoal and Georges Shoal to the east of Cape Cod. I had no idea I was anywhere near there. I’ll have to sail southeast now to get back on course.

Took a nice nap, cooked myself a curry dinner. Lit the hand warmer John gave me and now I’m ready to resume sailing.

Sunday, June 6

Sailed all night and part of the next day on a course of 150 degrees. Just after dawn it brought me to the main shipping line between New York and Europe There were lots of ships and I got pictures of some, including some Russian fishing trawlers, one of which rushed up to look me over and photograph me. There were two lanes and I finally got to the south of both of them in between lanes having fixed myself a dinner of scrambled eggs. After getting well to the south of the shipping lanes I doused all sail and let Tink look after herself while I took a nap in the cockpit.

Joy! This is a perfect day. The water is a rich lustrous blue, the sky is cloudless and of lighter turquoise, and the breeze is jut right for a Sunday afternoon sail. I saw a school of about eight whales after I resumed my pace after my nap. They were too far away for pictures, though. I’ve also seen a lot of Sargasso seaweed. And quite a few birds, which always seem to be too far away to photograph.

I still don’t know exactly where I am although I presume I’m near 40ºN. and 68º W. I’ll take some sextant sights tomorrow and try to pinpoint it. I haven’t seen a ship since leaving the lanes. The ocean is a vast empty expanse. I’m beginning to find out what real loneliness is.

There now is a bit surf around and the backs of my hands are getting raw from being wet so much and chafing against my cuffs. Otherwise I’m in good shape. Have been eating and drinking less than I allowed for. But the cabin is a shambles. Everything piled helter skelter. The trouble is when I want something it’s usually under an assortment of other things and I have to get everything else out of the way to get at it. And it goes on and on. When I’ve eaten some of the food and drunk some of the water there will be more room and less mess.

The barometer has been holding steady at 30.8. I hope that means several days of good weather.

Oh, I was talking about sunburn, etc. My biggest problem is my bumteratum* which is getting awfully sore from the constant jostling. I’m sitting on a cushion now and it’s a little better, but tomorrow I’ll have to render some first aid. Everything on board is now damp as can be even these pages.

Just at dusk I got into a tide rip, probably a tributary of the Gulf Stream. Sea dolphins, the first I’d seen had been following me, but left me at the tide rip, unfortunately. I hove to with the sea anchor about 11 p.m. EST and got about 6 hours’ sleep.

[* as written in the log]

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