Of Soundings, Sunsets, Sailing and Bees

Greetings!

This past week we’ve had more than a little interest in how deep the water is.   For several days, we were getting erratic readings on our instrument panel.  Went into an anchorage on Sunday where we could see the bottom but the depth meter was showing a new reading every 1-2 seconds, ranging from 30 to 200 feet!

Knowing the depth of the water you’re in is pretty important to sailors.  From ancient days, the first way ships measured the depth was by taking soundings with lead and line.  The line, a thin rope, would be attached to a plummet, usually made of lead.  A sailor would drop the line overboard and “feel” for the bottom below, when the line went slack.  They would haul it up, stretch it out and record the measurement.  In shallower waters, a sounding pole was used.   Eventually it became traditional to tie marks on the line at various distances (often of different materials so you could feel the cloths at night).  If the sounding was at a tie, the sailor would say “by the mark”; if it was between two ties, the sailor would say “by the deep.”

In the 19^th Century, soundings became mechanized.  One of the most used machines was developed in 1802 by an English clockmaker, Edward Massey. The machine was designed to be fixed to a sounding lead and line. It featured a rotor which turned a dial as the lead sank to the sea floor. On striking the sea floor, the rotor would lock. Massey’s sounding machine could then be hauled in and the depth could be read off the dials in fathoms.  (source: Wikipedia)

Both lead and line and mechanized soundings were replaced by echo devices, as early as 1928.  These echo devices are still used today.  On our boat, there is a transducer located in a thru hull at the bottom of the boat.  The transducer sends out sonar echoes, receives the data, and attached with a wire that wanders through the bowels of the boat, reaches the instrument panel in the cockpit. 

It took us a day to figure out the problem.  Remember the new keel?  Well, the transducer is located through the hull just in front of the keel.  When the workers painted the keel, they accidentally painted over part of the transducer’s face.  The kind of paint used (not water soluble) ruined the surface of the transducer, causing the crazy readings

New keel paint is on right side of circular transducer

Two days later we were in a marina where we purchased a new transducer, and helping a technician, replaced the old transducer with the new one.  Our soundings have been perfect since!

And that’s important, you know.  You don’t want to be guessing how deep the water is, even if you have a reliable chart:  you could run aground!

All this led to a joyfilled evening.  We said goodbye to the marina and crossed the Drake Channel to a favorite anchorage.  With smiles on our faces, and a hammock to relax in, we enjoyed a wonderful sunset.

Early in the sun's setting...

A bit later, reflecting on the water...

Finally lighting up the bottoms of the clouds!

The next day, the wind returned from its vacation, raring to go!  In the early morning, we crossed the Channel once again and picked up friends at the western end of Tortola.  We headed out and into 20-22 knot winds and fought our way into the very choppy and rolly waters.  After two hours we had progressed enough to turn the boat around for lunch and an easy ride home.   It was a nice reward for some hard initial sailing!

Dave (visiting New Testament and Homiletics professor), Marney, and Jeanty (co-pastor friend)

Marney, Mary (Dave's wife) and Helen (co-pastor friend...and chef!)

Finally, we ended the day by returning to the US Virgins, not quite seven weeks from our last visit.  We’re spending a few days at Francis and Maho Bays (think: Tahiti), slowing down.  We enjoyed a wonderful dinner with new friends from North Carolina (Jim and Deanne Chesson, who sail on My Deere; he has a special connection to John Deere tractors!)

Then…yesterday…we started noticing the bees.  First one, then another, and eventually about a dozen of them had left shore and headed our way.  It is unusual to live with flies or bees when you’re out on the water.  A nice gift.  So when they arrive (first time since we’ve been here), you figure something’s up.  They weren’t interested in pollen.  Bob is a palm tree.  No, they were interested in fresh water.  Marney had been cleaning in the cockpit and they came aboard.  Buzzing around and being a bit of a nuisance.

So…remembering a charter week in Baja California from years ago, we took action.  Back then, we were warned that one particular anchorage had bees.  We dropped the hook and sure enough, about a hundred of them started swarming around.  We filled a medium-sized mixing bowl with fresh water, placed it up on the bow and the bees had a party – in the front and away from the six of us in the cockpit!  Within an hour, they had imbibed to the last drop….and left for shore.

While fewer in number, yesterday’s bees were just as happy to have us share with them.  We moved the bowl from the stern toward the bow, and they caught on.  Got a picture of them.  They stayed around, drank to their hearts content and left. 

It’s been a week to remember:  how important it is to know where you are (or how deep your water is)…and to slow down enough to enjoy the sunsets….and sail with friends…and share a sacrificial bowl of water.  Sharing our resources with others in God’s creation.  Remembering we all have a place and a part to play in this life, including the bees.  No deep insights, just good reminders. 

Fair Winds

Calm Seas

Dave

PS:  It's scary to have a 30 foot wave chasing you. If you are steering, you don't look back. The crew looks back for you, and you watch their faces. When they look straight up, then get ready!      -- Magnus Olsson  (Swedish competitive sailor who participated in six round-the-world races and won the 1997-98 Whitbread Volvo race)

PS:  This is what you see when you lay in a hammock and look up!