2020 has shown itself to be an interesting season, given all that has been going on, and this 106 class was no exception.  It seems like the only weather phenomena we didn't encounter was snow and the crew took it all with good cheer and interest.

We met Friday afternoon, the 25th, aboard S/V NAVIGATOR and the crew stowed their gear in their designated spaces.  Angela, Hattie, Curtis and Larry settled in, while Captain Frank Mummert and Mate Steve Nash ensured that everyone had enough space and helped sort out the gear that could stay behind.  Frank and Steve had checked the boat before the students' arrival, but the crew were encouraged to poke around the boat in the free time before dinner.

The next morning, we were up by 0800, dressed and fed, ready for our day of in-port instruction and navigation prep.  Steve and Frank went through applicable safety instructions, the students inventoried every locker and cubby on the boat and we did some in-port sail handling exercises, although the weather refused to cooperate, running from light drizzle to heavy downpour.  Every time Frank decided to try some outdoor activity, the rain would come up.  As soon as he redirected everyone to an indoor activity and they had settled in, it dropped back to the gentle mist.  

Because everyone had watched Tom's new video on offshore navigation prep, the team was able to work effectively together in developing the first two legs of the navigation plan in relatively short order.  By early afternoon, we were prepped to get as far as Summit North and the crew was going through the "before cruise" checks that need to be accomplished at the start of every class.  Evening found us having lasagna and salad, while discussing everyone's expectations and uncertainties for the coming days.  The weather was high on the list.  The predictions this far out for the Tuesday night/Wednesday morning weather offshore were more than a little challenging, but we hoped that by the time we reached that point, the forecast would have moderated.

On Sunday, we were up and moving by 0700, with the expectation that we would be underway by 0800.  The crew went through their pre-departure checks, coordinating so that tasks got done in an appropriate order.  We were out of the slip by 0745 and, after a quick stop at the Lankford Bay pump out dock to ensure we started with an empty holding tank, we were underway.

Unfortunately, the light winds from the previous day persisted, along with the drizzly weather.  We were able to do a knot meter calibration run, but without the sun, a compass deviation check was out of the question.  We had removed the sail cover at the dock, in the hopes that we would be able to raise our sails once we got free of the land, but the hopes were dashed as we came around the southern tip of Eastern Neck Island and saw the mill pond that was the Chesapeake Bay.  We continued up Swan Creek and eventually were tied up to a mooring ball in Swan Creek Marina.  Since our trip had gone significantly faster than Frank had expected, we had plenty of time to do the sail handling training that had gotten washed out the previous day.  We raised the main sail, put on a preventer, and did some practice gybes under control, using our PST-TSP method.  Next, we put in a reef and shook it out.  Finally, we rigged the whisker pole and derigged it, going through the process carefully to avoid any possibilities of injury or damage.  All agreed that reading about the procedure was one thing, but seeing the heavy pole moving under perfect control was quite another.

The next morning, we were scheduled to be underway by 0700 again, but "Skipper of the Day" Angela, in consultation with Frank, made the decision to raise the whisker pole before getting underway.  The wind was coming out of the south and, since our course was one up the Bay, we anticipated a solid downwind run to the Canal.  Once we got underway and out to the Bay, the wind was indeed as forecast as to direction, but a little weaker than we hoped.  Because of this and the current running foul for us, we were required to assist our sails with a little help from the engine.  Although this was disheartening, the sailing itself more than made up for it.  The boat handled well and the weather had become sunny and warm.

As we moved up the Bay, the students performed various navigational tasks to put the theoretical training from the 105 navigation course into practical application.  It was interesting - and frustrating - to discover that the rather simple task of calculating a three-bearing or running fix is made infinitely harder when you have to find your own points of reference, instead of just calculating from the values Tom provides in the course.  By the time we reached the C and D Canal, we had successfully identified our location a multiple of times and the little tweaks of practical navigation were beginning to fall into place.

We made it to Summit North at about 1700, having had the current finally turn in our favor as we entered the canal.  We tied up in the unusually full marina and enjoyed showers and dinner at the Grain restaurant.  One of our primary subjects of discussion was the upcoming weather off-shore.

Despite our hopes, the forecast for the offshore period had not gotten better.  The winds were forecast to be around 30 knots, dead on the nose, and the seas were forecast to be 7 to 10 feet.  Finally, Frank, in consultation with Tom, decided to pull the plug and wait one extra day at Summit North.  The forecast for Wednesday night/Thursday morning was much better and even had a hint of westerly winds.  Although all of the crew had expressed interest in sailing in "heavy weather," once the decision was made, the sense of relief was palpable.  It is one thing to read about challenging weather, another to actually sail in it.

We used Tuesday for additional training and navigational planning, completing the nav plan all the way back to Lankford Bay Marina.  Because of the change in schedule, Frank decided that we would not stop in Annapolis but instead continue on to LBM directly.  Since we no longer had the opportunity to do the 106 written exam in Annapolis, he advanced the clock on that and the students did the exam in Summit.  Despite the fact that they had to take the exam three days early, their preparation showed and all passed the knowledge portion of the course with flying colors (a true nautical term).

Dawn came early on Wednesday morning, but it found us already underway.  Rising between 0400 and 0430, we were prepped and off the dock by 0530, giving us the opportunity to watch the sun rise as we transited the last of the canal.  The wind had indeed risen and veered during the night and we had a strong but manageable 15-20 knot breeze off of our starboard quarter, coming up to a beam reach as we traveled down the Delaware River and Bay.  With a full mainsail and a reefed down headsail, we soared across the water, at one point reaching almost 8 knots through the water and, when the current was in our favor, speeds over ground in excess of 9 knots.  

This sort of speed made the sailing exhilarating and put a real challenge into the navigation practices, where the time between taking a three bearing shot and calculating the results could leave the boat a mile from the spot the bearings were taken.  With all of the factors in our favor, we did the fastest transit Frank had ever accomplished on that stretch of the class and we passed Cape Henlopen a little after three in the afternoon.  As we entered the Ocean, a pod of dolphins greeted us and later, a whale stopped by to cross our path.

Unfortunately, as we entered the Atlantic Ocean, our course started to trend more and more toward the south.  Initially, we were able to continue with our original sail plan, bringing the sails closer and closer to the center as we turned.  However, by 1800, we had turned far enough to render the headsail useless and we furled it in, replacing it first with the staysail and, eventually, with the "D-sail" (the diesel engine).  We continued to motor-sail down the coast as darkness settled in for the evening.  Darkness is a relative term, since we had a huge full moon lighting our way and, initially, the lights of the coastal cities of Delaware and Maryland to mark our path.

Although the weather we encountered was definitely better than that which had passed the previous night, it was still challenging to the crew.  The seas were running 4 to 6 feet and the wind was holding 15 to 20 knots.  The boat was bashing into the waves and the forward cabin particularly was rising and falling with the waves.  It cannot be said that our crew was unaffected by the seas, but they faced all challenges to their stability and stomachs with cheerful good nature.  Dinner was still fixed and eaten, midnight snacks were consumed and all watches were stood and performed adequately, if maybe without the speed they had been performed earlier in the trip.

Dawn came and the weather started to moderate.  They seas eventually dropped to a much more manageable two foot swell and the wind decreased steadily throughout the day to 5 knots, before beginning to creep back up as we entered the Chesapeake Bay.  It never did get to the promised west winds, but it was pleasant to come through the north spans of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel and turn to the north, with the wind pushing us along.  We set our main sail out with a preventer as we motor-sailed up to the marker at the entrance to the Cape Charles City channel and were alongside the dock early enough that we could give the boat some clean up, get our own showers and be at the Shanty restaurant before seven.  Both the boat and we smelled much better after some vigorously applied soap and fresh water.

Having topped off our fuel tank and once again emptied our holding tank, we were underway at noon for the Chester River.  The wind gods, in their infinite amusement, had shifted the wind once again on us, back to our bow.  With the wind now out of the north at 15-20 knots, we put a reef in the main, rolled out the staysail and headed as close to the rhumb line as we could.  With an apparent wind that crept toward our bow every time we sped up, we were making great time through the water, but after two hours of sailing we found ourselves only three miles north of our starting point.  Calculating that, at this rate, it would be time for the next 106 class before we made it back, we swallowed our pride and disappointment and once again added the diesel engine to our sailing regimen. 

At 1800, during the crew shift, Frank and Steve conducted daytime Crew Overboard drills, throwing our unfortunate - and soggy - crewmate Weenie over the side and having the crew whip the boat into the wind, get to the rescue spot and save him again and again.  There was some good-natured grumbling that he should definitely pay more attention to Tom's dictum to "stay with the boat" by wearing a harness and tether, but he was rescued each time.

At midnight, Weenie made a reappearance at the next crew shift and once again, he found himself unable to stay aboard.  During the evening, the wind had risen (during the daytime COB drills, it had fallen to about five knots) and the combination of darkness and weather made the attempts to rescue our soggy shipmate far more challenging.  After forty-five minutes of repeated "circle and save" exercises, it was well and truly brought home that "night time rescues are challenging" and the best solution is to "stay with the boat"!

Between the two COB exercises, NASA had succeeded in launching a rocket from its Wallops Island facilities, which were only about fifty miles from our location at the time.  The two crewmembers on watch, as well as Steve, the duty instructor, watched with fascination as the ball of fire rose into the sky and disappeared.  The rest of the crew was disappointed to have missed it, but understood that things at sea are fleeting and the joy of catching something like this is part of the reason we go.

Morning found us north of Patuxent River, having spent the night practicing collision avoidance techniques with the "monsters of the Bay," the huge cargo ships that travel up and down at speeds that dwarfed our five to six knots.  Watching a brightly lit tanker rise over the horizon, pass and drop below the stern is a sight that can never become boring or less terrifying, as the thought of bad decision making putting the boat in the wrong spot drives home.  RADAR and AIS became invaluable tools in plotting and directing our path, but nothing was better than a practiced eye evaluating the lights of a passing ship.

We finally sighted the Annapolis Bay Bridge at about 1030 and passed underneath at noon, watching the many sailing regattas being raced in the Severn River area as we passed Annapolis.  We adjusted our course for the mouth of the Chester River and we able to secure navigation as we rounded the Green 7 daymark in Langford Creek.  We brought the boat into the pump out dock for one last time, then set the boat into our own slip at 1600, bringing our circumnavigation of the DELMARVA Peninsula to a close.