Horizons is home!

Horizons is home, secure in Slip 19 at the Mariners Point docks.
The original plan was for that to happen three years ago, but
we did run into a snag or two along the way. Right now we think
that we have finished with extended cruising in foreign waters,
and a summing-up would be timely, since we won't be able to report
on our cruises if we aren't cruising, so we are coming to the
end of this series.

Today's installment gets us from Luperon, Dominican Republic,
on December 11 of last year, to our arrival in Hartfield on May
15, concentrating on the last 250 miles, from Beaufort NC. We
expect there will be another one, all because a friend, several
years ago, on the topic of our cruising experiences, asked us,
"What have you learned?" Of course we were stuck for an answer
then but the question deserves a thoughtful answer.

We have learned, for starters, that moving northward in the stinko
weather of 2013 was less pleasant than just about any similar
length of time on the water. (One telling statistic: Jack wore
out a brand-new sweater in two months' time, because he was always
wearing it.) Also, we suspect that we just might not be getting
any younger. But onward to the recapitulation!

For six weeks in the DR we were busy every day making sure that
we would be ready to go on short notice whenever a) the boatyard
finally figured out how to launch us and b) we finally got a
weather window enabling us to get to the Bahamas. In the meantime
we settled into the Luperon ex-pat community and enjoyed life
in the tropics.

When the window opened we got to the southern end of the Bahamas
and made our northward progress when we could, getting weathered
in at Rum Cay, Georgetown in the Exumas, Nassau and Lucaya.
That was five weeks, from February 6 to March 17, the day we
arrived in Ft Pierce FL—where we were weathered in for a week.
The weather made it impossible for the Bahamas to show itself
to its best advantage, and the same goes for Florida, Georgia
and both Carolinas.

But we made it a sentimental journey. (A sedimental journey
is one interrupted by occasional groundings in soft mud.) We
visited Harbortown in Ft Pierce, where we first saw Horizons
in February 1999, and nearby Vero Beach, where most of the houses
are still house-sized. Fernandina Beach in Florida and Jekyll
Island in Georgia were two more places we enjoyed seeing again.
And so on to Thunderbolt, Beaufort (SC), Charleston, Georgetown
(SC), and Morehead City. We plied every inch of the ICW, fondly
remembering the Sea Islands, the Ogeechee and Moon Rivers south
of Savannah and the Waccamaw River. (To name but a few.)

>From Beaufort NC at Statute Mile 200 of the ICW to Norfolk at
Mile 0, is (you guessed it!) a journey of about 172 nautical
miles, and home is just a long day's sail or motor from Norfolk.
Here's how it went.

We left Beaufort after a lay day. The weather called for it
and so did our weary bodies. Fortunately, there was a wooden
boat festival for entertainment, and onshore at least the wind
and rain were not particularly fierce. We were able to see cruising
friends, now land-based there and watched a fleet of wooden boats
being built under a tent and raced (?!?) in the harbor in the
afternoon.

But pleasant as Beaufort always is, we were eager to get home.
Our daughter was babysitting our grandkids in DC during the
Mother's Day weekend while their parents, John and Cheri, were
visiting friends in California. So if we got home we could leave
the boat, drive to DC and have a nice visit.

With that objective in mind we headed north. First stop was
Whittaker Creek Marina, where the dockmaster describes himself
as retired CIA. (Classic misdirection: he's got NSA written
all over him.) Of course we can't repeat a syllable of what
he said, but he said a lot. Next came Belhaven and Dowry Creek
Marina, which we have enjoyed and recommend.

Most of the ICW has green markers on the right side as you go
north, and reds on the left. There are exceptions, like the
Cape Fear River and the Pungo River, where the red-right-return
rule prevails. Jack was briefly confused about this in the Pungo,
but he corrected himself in time to stay out of the Muddo. And
so on to the Alligator River Bridge and to Midway Marina in Coinjock,
where the next day required crossing The Dreaded Currituck Sound.

Memory is the source of the dread: that body of water is as shallow
as some politicians we won't bother to name, and the only way
across is through a narrow dredged channel—which Laurie deviated
from on the way south in November 2000 and so ran hard aground,
losing the dinghy in the process. She had no intention of spending
any time at the helm in the Currituck this trip.

We got off to a bit of a late start on this year's trip from
Coinjock to Great Bridge VA, just as the day shift was forming
up at the Coinjock Coast Guard station. Fair warning—and in
fact we were boarded within the hour. Ever so much of our time
in Trinidad had been spent on preparing the boat to pass just
such an inspection, so we were prepared, sort-of.

The two youthful officers boarded us from a RIB with a crew of
six or seven that snuck up behind us, hailed us and asked when
was the last time we had been boarded by the CG. Never was the
answer, and on they came. They introduced themselves and started
asking Jack for things. Laurie explained that as Jack had to
be at the helm since she had once run seriously aground in the
Currituck, she would produce everything and be their guide.


The senior Youthful Officer remained in the cockpit with Jack
to ask him questions and Laurie took the junior Y.O., a trainee,
below.

First an explanation to the officer. The aft head is dominated
by a 40-gallon fiberglass fuel tank, which is the only source
of fuel to the engine. (The main tank had sprung a leak in the
Dominican Republic and was sealed off awaiting repair in the
US.) His superior accepted our statement that the infrastructure
for the required repair is a bit scanty in the DR. The junior
checked the bilge for evidence of diesel. None found, whew!

On to the head and plumbing, always a topic of interest to cruisers
and the authorities. After a fairly lengthy discussion—where
Laurie helped the Coastie trace the lines and explained that
the line that appeared to dangle over nowhere was from plumbing
installed in Turkey to comply with needs even more irrational
than in the US (she didn't say it that way) and that all that
plumbing had been replaced in Trinidad to comply with the US
requirements—that part of the inspection was passed. The Coasties
and Laurie agreed that they had spent enough time talking about
poo.

All was going swimmingly until he asked Laurie to produce the
horn. All vessels must have a noisemaking device. Of course
Horizons has a horn, several whistles and a ship's bell, but
at that moment Laurie could find none of them. They had all
disappeared somehow from the places they had been stowed or were
handily available from for the last 13 years. Obviously, they
would all appear when we got to the condo and took the boat apart
to clean it, piece by piece, but that was not helping us now,
in the drizzly rain on Currituck Sound, minutes away from not
passing inspection. The junior searched around in the pockets
of his boarding bag and the senior handed us two whistles and
said we were in compliance. He wrote us our "good-as-gold sheet"
and said the next time we were asked if we had been boarded we
should produce it; it might save everyone some time. (After
they left, we immediately found a bright orange whistle, tied
to a life jacket thrown in the aft cabin where everything else
is jumbled.)

The Coasties were at all times pleasant, cheerful and young.
We were glad we had been boarded and inspection passed by them
in the Currituck rather than by the Coast Guard destroyer that
snuck up on us between Haiti and Cuba at 0600 one morning in
2004.

We had already figured out that we weren't going to make it home
in time to drive to DC. So we left the boat in Norfolk at a very
pleasant marina we had last stayed at in 2000, rented a car,
drove to DC, had a lovely visit with the munchkins and Anne,
spent six hours at the zoo (our aching bones are just starting
to recover) and a Mother's Day brunch with Laurie's cousin en
famille. Drove back to the boat, discovered that the gas stove
had finally died (Laurie had hoped it would hold out till the
end of the trip, but, whatever) and went to bed.

Our last day on the water was not a sucker sail. It was a sucker
motor. We left the marina under very light south winds and motored
through the Norfolk's naval facility.
Years have passed since 2001 and now the Navy has its ships under
repair carefully but not obtrusively guarded. When we went through
in 2000 there was little security and we went close to the ships
to gawk and viewed the gaping hole in the side of the USS Cole
up close. In 2004, RIBS with machine guns were everywhere and
passing traffic stayed strictly on the center line of the channel.
Now the RIBS are there, lurking near a cluster of ships and
passing traffic is carefully warned of ships' movements and what
they should be to avoid getting too close. This time people
were sailing in the Elizabeth River, not encouraged in 2004.

The wind started light but it was honking and from the west by
the time we were half way up the bay. Ordinarily we would have
sailed but we were eager to get home; setting sail would be a
complication, the first time we have viewed it as such. We knew
that when we turned the corner into the Piankatank it would once
more be right on our nose, where it has been almost all of this
trip and for five years in the Med.

We turned the corner into Wilton Creek. The wind dropped to
nothing. It is the best hurricane hole in the Chesapeake. A
neighbor helped us tie up. We went upstairs, pulled together
a meal, drank some champagne, and went to bed.

These emails have been fun for us to write and enough of you
have said that they have been fun to read, so that we have enjoyed
doing them. You will get two more, one from each of us, because
there is the saying: One boat, two voyages. It all goes back
to the friend's question from the opening paragraph: What have
we learned? What, indeed! We would each like to take our time
answering the question later, once we are a little better organized.


Right now, we are clearing the boat, Jack is printing off the
tax return, we are assessing our repair needs and making to-do
lists—and preparing to enter your real world.

In the Homestretch

After a trip across Bogue Sound in conditions as horrible as
any we've experienced, we made Morehead City and decided to take
a lay day and wait for better weather.

However, the gods of the weather have decreed no stable weather
outlook going forward. So we are making our way as best we can
and the next epistle you receive will be our last, written from
the condo after a deliberate amount of time to think about what
this all meant.

On balance, we can say it was good to do, even if the last three
years have been more a comedy of errors than a midsummer night's
dream. (We thought we'd mix some metaphors for you.)

So we have the bit in our teeth and are ready to run.

A fate better than death

We made it to Charleston last Friday, just before the gale began—one
short hour after our arrival. In keeping with our new attitude
of "let's take it easy" (since there will be LOTS) to do when
we return, we have chosen to wait for absolutely lovely weather
before departure tomorrow, when the window will be two days to
get to Georgetown. Presumably we will wait there for a lovely
day to do the prettiest part of the trip—the Waccamaw River.

Our ride through the rest of Georgia was also very nice; we even
anchored out one night using Active Captain to find a secluded
anchorage (Crescent River) with mild current and good holding
that was new to us. However, the anchoring experience helped
us figure out that the only way to raise the anchor without fouling
the chain is for Jack to pull up the last twenty feet of chain
plus anchor by hand. Laurie can't do that at all. We think
we can fix the problem (with technology, cutting off 50 feet
of chain and perhaps installing a new gypsy) but that will have
to wait for Deltaville.

The ride through Georgia and South Carolina was also instructive
in terms of how much we had forgotten. GA and SC have tides
through multiple inlets influencing all travel on the ICW. Travel
on a rising tide, and the current is with you and then against
you, depending on where you are in relation to the inlet.

Shoaling occurs regularly (where you'd really prefer a uniform
amount of ample water under the boat), and again Active Captain
proved invaluable in reading how people found (and then later)
avoided the shoals. Active Captain provides marks to look at
state of tide and current wherever there is a change. GA and
SC look like nightmares on Active Captain, but now we remember
that we were perpetually looking up inlets in Reeds and correlating
them to the reference.

We had some particular spots we remembered from 2001 that are
still problems each year. We certainly didn't remember that
after the grounding on the first Coosaw Cut in 2001 there were
three other problem places to go through in the next hour or
so. Fortunately, this year we read up before we left, left on
a rising tide, had hours of daylight to make the journey through
the low country and only grounded a little bit leaving the last
cut.

After doing most of our own cooking since leaving the DR, Georgia
and South Carolina have been breakthroughs in eating out. It
started in Savannah, where we ate at a local place within walking
distance of the marina. Pure southern shrimp and grits were
perfect and Jack had the oyster basket. The next night that
we were at a place to eat out was Beaufort SC, where Jack had
shrimp and grits. Slightly different preparation, but also outstandingly
good. Laurie had a softshell crab with a crabcake appetizer.
We agreed that the next southern food Laurie will master is
shrimp and grits. We are pretty confident with her crabcakes,
now.

We had dinner that evening from a couple from Massachusetts who
live part time in FL and who had just become power boaters although
they still have a small sailboat in MA. They were excellent
company and we had a great time. We agreed to keep in touch
and perhaps have dinner in Charleston. They, of course would
be far ahead of us, since we go 4-7 kph and they do much better.

By the time we met in Charleston, they had decided to leave their
boat for a week and fly back to MA. His company, located over
the finish line of the Boston Marathon, had been hosting its
employees and their children when the bombs went off. He thought
he should be there.

In the meantime, we have spent four full days in Charleston,
surely a fate better than death. It has been cold and threatening
most days but Charleston is such a lovely city that it's easy
to overlook the weather. We spent yesterday trying to get the
iPad set up for internet everywhere using Verizon, but that appears
to be a fail in the Charleston area, and we can't imagine the
Waccamaw will have better coverage. We would like to be cool
like the teenagers.

Laurie bought the iPad because she wanted the Active Captain
app with GPS. It turns out to have been an inspired purchase.
Now that we are using the app with charts, it enables us to
do the ICW with a great deal of confidence, even though we still
haven't found the yellow index cards we used 11 years ago. It
also enables us to have two GPS chartplotters working, using
different versions of distance, at the same time. This turns
out to be great. Jack at the helm can use the ½ mile scale to
be aware of the piloting details close by, and Laurie can use
Active Captain to tell him where he should find the marks one
to two miles ahead. Plus, Laurie has the satisfaction of being
an informed back seat driver.

Now, we are preparing to go have lunch at Jestine's, a local
restaurant that has had family ownership for years and provides
real southern food. We ate there once before, and have already
had dinner at Hyman's, Jack's favorite place in Charleston. Surely
this madcap round of eating out will stop when we are no longer
in the low country and doing comparative research on food culture
in the South (purely in the interests of science, of course).


The projects on the boat have settled down to minor inconveniences.
Jack needed to change the pump in the aft head, which was challenging
given that there is a large auxiliary fuel tank in the way.
But he had to, so he did. We seem finally to have arrived at
clean fuel. The next several hundred miles will be challenging,
but there will actually be water to travel on, which did not
always seem to be the case in much of GA and SC.

We're now in a marina outside of Charleston, 10 miles distant.
Because we didn't leave at slack at high tide at 7am, we provided
the morning's entertainment trying to leave at 9. We decided
to lick our pride and wait till slack at low at 2pm. Oh, well,
tomorrow we will definitely make it to Georgetown.

In Georgia

Now we're in Georgia, finally. Jekyll Island, to be precise.

It has taken us the five days on the move that we calculated
would be required to make it here. What we couldn't forecast
was the weather, and neither could the weathermen, as it turned
out.

First, let us offer our thanks to the many folk who responded
to our last email with their personal floater stories. All were
different and all had good outcomes and gave us a good range
of things for Jack to be looking out for. Meanwhile, the problem
seems to be resolving and J hopes to be able to see our own eye
doctor when we make it to Slip 19 in the Chesapeake.

We got the air conditioning system fixed in Ft. Pierce. We figured
it would be handy to have as we went up the ICW and spring brought
warmer temps. And it was handy, because of the reverse cycle
feature that makes our AC a heater. We needed the heat. Only
here in Georgia have we used it for a few hours as a proper air
conditioner.

The strong northerlies that we experienced in the Bahamas continue.
(Oh, we know, it's worse up north and it snowed on Easter in
DC.)

The delay in getting the pump fixed meant we had time to rendezvous
with friends from Massachusetts, so that was a very good stop,
even if it cost a week.

Since we have finally been able to get rid of most of the traces
of Dominican and Bahamian fuel, we have found our consumption
of Racor filters drastically reduced. We have now motored 25
hours on the same Racor and see no signs of the needle moving
into the red or yellow. (Which would indicate a clogged filter
stopping the flow of fuel to the injectors.)

We are a little afraid to trumpet this to the heavens, since
to do so courts disaster, but we do think it is a credit to the
pure fuel we've been able to get in the US.

Since leaving the Indian River near Titusville the water has
been getting progressively shallower and the tides and currents
more complicated. We remember this from the last time we were
here, 2002, but don't like it any better.

When we came through this way in 2002, J had made up little yellow
cards that choreographed each turn on the ICW from the chart
book, so we kept the cards on hand and it seemed to go quite
easily. Now we have two chartplotters and the chart book and
it still seems quite perilous. We wish would could find those
little yellow cards. In Georgia there are 7'-9' tides, and currents
that can knock 3 knots on or off one's speed, so it can be a
little like playing Chutes and Ladders.

We made it to Jekyll Island in a mere five hours but decided—since
the tides would be going to possibly a foot lower than mean low—that
we could just wait until the next morning at seven to move on
to Brunswick when the tide would still be highish.

Our route planning is for us to spend 22 days on the move to
go from Jekyll to Slip 19, but who knows what the weather will
allow.

We also hope to spend some time smelling the roses, of course.
Besides our friends from MA, we reencountered the folks who
told us about the fabulous pilot to Croatia in Vero Beach. We
met the people who ran the Mednet for the five years that we
were in Europe. We've done a bit of touring in St. Augustine
and we are looking forward to being in Charlestown and Beaufort
again. We're pretty sure this is our last trip on the ICW (there
are easier ways to be warm in winter) so we are hoping to enjoy
it.

Note: woke up on our scheduled departure day from Jekyll to dense
fog. By the time it had cleared we had lost the tide. Our daughter
sent us a word of bad weather they had seen coming in, and since
we have good wifi here we could see it too. I guess we'll see
a little more of Jekyll for a few days. We have not dealt with
tides in any big way for over nine years. Perhaps we are being
a little oversensitive, but the number of boats seen aground
suggests not.

Scott, the amiable and energetic dockmaster at the marina, turns
out to have roots in Taylor County (GA), just as Jack does.
The Taylor County Diaspora is one of the wonders of modern America.

The Jeckyl Harbor Marina seems to be one of those places where
people come and just stay and tonight there was a potluck for
the semipermanent residents and transients. It is tempting to
linger, but we have 700 miles to go.

In Nassau Now

February 25: In Nassau now, awaiting more favorable weather.
We left Georgetown after the last Norther blew itself out and
so had a very nice passage through the Exumas. Once we entered
the Exuma Bank, the water was smooth, calm and crystal clear.
Unfortunately, it also seemed heart-stoppingly thin to us. We
are used to deep water and moving along in just 10 feet covering
sand and coral heads seemed Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! especially when
the water at twenty feet deep looked (to us) just about the same
as the water at five.
Fortunately we had the excellent Explorer Charts borrowed from
our friends on Alexina, who had made the trip the year before.
So in addition to standard marks for routes and anchorages,
we had their penciled commentary and hand-noted good places to
stop. We were in Nassau in five days with no unpleasant surprises
and enjoyed meeting the nice folks on the family islands very
much.
Except we also needed to change the fuel filters four times in
about 40 hours of motoring since leaving Luperon. Usually we
change them once in 100 hours just because you're supposed to.
We changed them because they clogging. We had tried to find
someone to filter our fuel in G'town with no success, and there
were fewer boat services in Black Point and Highbourne Cay.
The plan was to get to Nassau before another Norther hits on
Thursday and see what services we could round up. We were fortunate.
The marina referred us to Albert's and a tech came the next
day and took 20 gallons from our tank and a lot of sludge. Clearly
the fuel that sat in the tank over the summer had become contaminated
by the corpses of dying microbes inspite of Biobor's best efforts.
The fuel disposal only cost $5 a gallon, $1 less than it will
cost to replace when we leave here. (Were we had? Maybe, but
we got a look at what came out of the tank and are happy that
it's gone.)
Further good news, we were referred to an electronics tech who
agreed on the phone with J's assessment that the GPS antenna
was showing warning signs of death. Since he was in Florida,
he would buy one for us plus a handheld Garmin and bring them
back with him to install. This way we would get the right part
at US prices and without the 45% Bahamian duty. Another win!
He'll be here on Thursday the seventh at 8 am.
All this means we are spending about two weeks in Nassau. The
strong Northers now coming off the US coast in waves have meant
we wouldn't really be going anywhere anyway. We've decided to
make our exit when all is fixed and the Gulf Stream is flat.
It is winter after all. Yesterday Laurie wore her fleece all
day. We have not needed the pool here
Today will be an on the boat day. It has been raining on and
off, sometimes hard. We are wearing socks, jeans and sweaters.
Touring will wait for a better day. The weather service recorded
57 degrees today.
Wednesday March 6: a lovely day. We toured the city of Nassau,
saw Atlantis and had a lovely Greek lunch. There is a fairly
large Greek population that settled here in the 1800's for the
sponge diving and after 1922. It was however, about as much
tourism as we could stand. The six cruise ships in the harbor
came loaded with college kids on Spring Break and the scene was
reminiscent of March 2002, which we spent in Key West.
Thursday March 7: The tech has come and gone. Thinks the antenna
is fine, the system is just older and has problems digesting
all the data now packed on the chips. We explained to him the
various reconfigurations over the last two years and he gave
us some good ideas. He also imported a handheld for us, so backup
is secure. Laurie feels the same relief she felt last year when
Dr Singh in Antigua said Jack's back would get better with rest
and the right drugs.
And, speaking of rest and drugs—Jack's back did choose to bother
him at the beginning of our stay in Nassau. It was no problem
for him to take drugs and sleep and not operate heavy equipment.
So the weather wasn't a problem for him, either, and that episode
was nipped in the bud.
We are glad we came back from the Caribbean in 2004 via the Old
Bahama Channel. We were in a hurry. It is now clear to us that
there are no quick trips through the Bahamas.
Between Horizons and US waters there's an overnight to Lucaya
and a day-hop to West End, both on Grand Bahama Island, plus
an all-daylight crossing of the Gulf Stream to arrive in Ft Pierce
FL.
Horizons sits proudly in anticipation, like a golf ball perched
on its tee.

In Georgetown, Bahamas

We are like the proverbial dog who chased cars, and when he finally
caught one, didn't know quite what to do with it. For years
and years we have known that Georgetown, Great Exuma (Bahamas)
was where we had to go to get home. Once in Georgetown, enjoy
it—but when you leave it, do day-hops to Nassau and an overnight
to Lucaya, and after that an overnight across the Gulf Stream
to Ft Pierce and the United States of freakin' America, a country
Horizons hasn't been in since August 2004, and to which we earnestly
long to go.

So here we are, having overnighted to West Caicos, day-hopped
to Mayaguez (Bahamas), overnighted again to Rum Cay (getting
weathered in there four five days), day-hopped to the north end
of Long Island (the Bahamian one) and then motored easily to
Georgetown, a lovely place to be weathered-in in, and so we are.
The weather will clear in a day or two and we will proceed northward.
After we figure out a few tiny navigational details, child's
play when you get down to it.

Enormous changes from the Dominican Republic: we are no longer
in the tropics (not since Mayaguez), and when the wind is from
the north it is cold! Well, chilly at least—the wool sweater
bought in Glasgow in September 2011 provides seasonable warmth
and comfort in Georgetown in February 2013. English is spoken
and the US greenback dollar is accepted as legal tender for all
debts public and private. (The Alexanders, Andrews, Ulysseses
and Benjamins are much more effective than the Georges, since
prices are rather stiff here.) And our Mattapoisett hailing
port is not exotic, but familiar: more often than daily we hear
from cruisers and land-based tourists that they are from there
or have been there, and so begins a conversation at the dock,
in a saloon, or in some other venue.

This was going to be a shakedown cruise, had to be, since Horizons
had only about two overnights and four day-hops in the past year.
We would have gone further except for the breakdowns—and as
we pushed northward we would be testing our numerous repairs
as well as finding out which disloyal piece of machinery that
we weren't worried about was going to turn on us and fail. As
it has turned out—so far—not so bad. Jack did fix all the instumention
on anchor in Mayaguez after it failed en route there. Fortunately
we were buddy boating with Evergreen 4rest, so had them lead
us in (no depth meter either).

On that trip we discovered that the Active Captain app we bought
for the Ipad has dead on waypoints and can serve as a form of
chartplotter as we hoped. We were able to use a combination of
dead reckoning with fixes for navigation before Jack resuscitated
all the instruments. The back-up GPS has mysteriously vanished,
but will probably be found after we buy a new one in Nassau.
The other repairs were time consuming, but much less traumatic,
and our time on Rum Cay let Jack do them at a dock.

Georgetown has been very pleasant. We elected to tie up at Exuma
Yacht Club to be close to town during the weather that would
be coming in. The yotties here are full of energy and activity
and plan many activities. There is a net every morning that lists
the news of arrivals, departures and plans that goes on for about
45 minutes with no idle chatter. Unfortunately the activities
take place over on Stocking Island, a one mile dinghy ride across
the harbor, where the winds have been strong from the NW, N and
NE at around 25-30K. We have been securely tied and not worried,
but we have had no desire for a dinghy ride or water taxi.

There is every indication that the bad weather will become fine
tomorrow and Thursday we will leave for what we hope will be
a pleasure cruise up the bank side of the Exumas to Nassau.
Presumably our shake-down cruise has shook and we are good to
go.

Seasons Greetings!

Dear Family Friends and Fellow Travelers

We wish you the very best of holiday greetings from sunny Luperon,
Dominican Republic, where we are busily getting Horizons back
in the water after six months on the hard. This year as a special
treat, we decided in advance not to stay on the boat while she
was out of the water, so have rented a lovely studio overlooking
the sea and a car to make the 10 minutes drive to the yard up
and down several steep hills to the yard. This is very elegant
of us, but has preserved our mood quite admirably as multiple
issues present themselves.

We will resume sea stories when we have them, for now we are
just day laborers who can shower at night.

We hope you are all enjoying the comforts of home, whether on
sea or land, and wish you the absolute best in the New Year.

Jack and Laurie