Gas Up

'Gas up' has a whole new meaning these days with the price of fuel so high. However, the Gallupville Gas-Up is something totally different and was a huge hit this past weekend. The weather was perfect despite the stormy prediction that didn't materialize. There were so many antique and classic vehicles and diverse pieces of machinery to see. Hopefully my photo choices aren't too many repeats from previous years. Dave brought his cute little 1958 Panzer tractor with the pony cart behind it, so I could ride around with him to get an overview. Later we walked to really explore the displays.

Farmalls galore!

John Deeres too...

Antique engines large and small, doing a variety of chores.

We had never seen these British Fordson County tractors before. They were unusual with big wheels and tires in both the front and rear.

This is an elaborate blade sharpener...

These antique trucks and engines really stood out.

 

The wood fired Case steamed away running the sawmill...

The steam shovel was doing demonstrations and the dirt was loaded into the period correct dump truck.

The Sunday parade is one of my favorite parts of the show. Dave entered with the Panzer and took along a couple of our friends.

I especially like this event because there are so many kids that get involved, plus the diversity of vehicles and equipment is amazing.

This was another '10' day at an annual event we try not to miss. We may even go back, because it is happening this coming weekend too! Thank you, Hudson Mohawk Chapter of the Pioneer Gas Engine Association!

Flashback

In my last post I said that I was going back to writing about the present, but that just happens to be about the past. In other words, we attended three different events this weekend, all having to do with antique and classics... outboards and boats, tractors and engines, and cars and trucks. The car and truck show was yesterday but my photos didn't come out very good, so I will stick with the other two events. First up was the latest antique outboard show and swap meet, this time held at Tupper Lake. 

These Elgins were similar to the one that our nephew Matthew had...

An interesting blue Mercury mixed in with the others... 

I liked the Martin 60, but the case that the other outboard was in was quite intriguing. It almost looked like a musical instrument case.

 

There were several wooden boats on display also. This first boat is the Raveau that Dave and I rode in at the last meet.

Look at the shine on this 'flashy' Wagemaker Wolverine. It was a big hit at the show and drew lots of attention.

Oh but wait, isn't that Wolverine hooked up to OUR van?

That's right, it is! It is a 1958 model with a 1958 Johnson Super Quiet, Super Sea Horse outboard engine (the same exact engine that happens to be on the Raveau). A matched set, which is hard to find. 

These boats were made in Michigan and that is where Dave found this one online, and he had to travel to Lake Michigan to see and buy it (ad is from a '57).

We had been looking for something totally different for about a year, and this fits the bill. Naming it is next, and I think we have come up with a very appropriate one...'Flashback', or 'Flash' for short. Flashback to 1958 and flash is certainly what it does in the sun, almost to the point of being blinded. 😉😎 

Welcome to the fleet, 'Flashback'! 

(Above photo by Mike Glenn)

Cruising Memories #3

 Below are a few of New Horizon's adventures all wrapped up into one post, which completes my writings for now...

We couldn’t believe that we were actually back in the Bahamas. Our Gulf Stream Crossing was quite a bit rougher than expected, but we decided to keep on going even though the boat was rolling a lot. However, with the way the waves were hitting us, instead of riding the current north to West End as we had first intended, we felt it best to change our heading to Freeport. NOAA had predicted very light north winds, but once we were about 10 miles out of Ft. Lauderdale, we were experiencing 15-20 knots of wind with white caps on top of large swells. Dave took over the steering manually instead of using the autopilot, since he could anticipate the waves and adjust our course to make the ride a bit more comfortable. Along the way we ran into a problem where the sailing dinghy on the sundeck roof started moving back and forth with our rolling, despite being tied down. Here we were out in the middle of the ocean, and I had to bring our 46 foot trawler up into the wind so we could take these 6+ foot waves head on, while Dave climbed out onto the roof to put two more lines on, so it didn’t slide into the deep blue sea. I must say that I had the easier job. We both had our life jackets on at least. After about 30 miles we could tell that the pull of the Gulf Stream current going against the northerly wind was easing and the wave action was much more tolerable. The closer we got to Freeport, the calmer it was. I was the first to spot land, which was actually the radio/cell tower. It is amazing how quickly we forgot how rough our trip was once we realized we had made it!

We traveled on to Man O’War, where the local boat builders continue to make skiffs, as they have for centuries. They used to make them in wood, but most are now made in fiberglass, except for the sailing dinghies. After exploring the island we went in our Logic Riot dinghy out to Fowl Cay Preserve reef nearby, and hooked up to one of the moorings. Dave immediately dove in the water and found himself face to face with two 8 ft. reef sharks! They chased him (more like followed him) into the shallows of the reef, and wouldn’t ‘let’ him get back to the boat. Dave called out to me, telling me his predicament, although there wasn’t much I could do since the reef was so shallow. I certainly hope he didn’t expect me to get in the water and lure the sharks away! Finally the sharks’ attention were drawn elsewhere and Dave made a beeline for the dinghy. As we dropped the mooring line and headed out, one of the local dive boats packed full of snorkelers, grabbed the same mooring. Dave drove up to them and the captain ended up being Troy from Dive Guana, so he asked if the sharks were friendly. His reply was priceless, as were the looks on the snorkelers faces when Dave mentioned sharks. “Yes,” he said, “they only take LITTLE bites!” We laughed and when Troy also said the sharks were almost always there, I knew that they just looked menacing and were really being inquisitive. I bet the sharks had a good laugh too. We could picture them saying to each other, “Hey, let’s antagonize this guy and give him a good scare!” They certainly succeeded.

We were out in our dinghy passing some small uninhabited islands off of Treasure Cay when Dave yelled, “Wilson!” Startled, I looked up to see a basketball sitting all by itself on a rock ledge covered with sand. Naturally we couldn’t leave it there since Dave has always wanted to find a ‘friend’ like Tom Hanks had in the movie Castaway. It wasn’t a soccer ball, but a basketball is a close cousin. Being the devoted wife that I am, I jumped out of the boat onto the beach and climbed onto the rocks and retrieved it. That’s when I found out that we couldn’t name ‘him’ Wilson, because he was really Spaulding! When we got back to New Horizon, we made a perfect face for Spaulding, right down to his hair. Spaulding commanded the best seat on the boat looking out from my hanging plant on the sundeck, watching everyone staring back at him as they went by. 

We had Spaulding for a couple of years and then while exploring the northern Abaco Islands, found a perfect home for him on Powell Cay. Mixed in with the flotsam that had washed up on the beach, was the shell of an old television. We set up the TV in a party spot way above the high tide line, with Spaulding as the star of the show, sitting inside it. Since then we have actually seen him featured in different cruiser blogs, which makes us smile and brings back fond memories.

Next up will be back to the present time and more great events and hopefully a few good adventures!

Cruising Memories #2

 Celebrity's stay at Spanish Cay, Bahamas...

After a great 6 week introductory cruise through the Abacos, we were making our way back through the islands towards West End, racing the arrival of several cold fronts. We decided to duck into the cove at the north end of Spanish Cay. In 1986 Spanish Cay was owned by Clint Murchison, also owner of the Dallas Cowboys football team. Although our cruising guides called the island hostile, we were desperate to find a safe anchorage from the anticipated weather. As we were trying to anchor our 28 foot sailboat in very loamy bottom with lots of upside down jellyfish making for poor holding, a man with a doberman was waving to us from a nearby dock. Our first thought was that he was waving us away, but then we realized that he was waving us over to him. We hopped in the dinghy and went to see what he wanted, thinking that he would make us leave. That was the furthest from the truth. The man ended up being the caretaker for the island and he must have been lonely. He told us that we might as well bring our sailboat to the dock because with the approaching storm and the poor anchor holding, we were going to end up there anyway. How could we resist an offer like that, especially after what we had just read in the guides? 

Robert helped us dock and then took us for a tour of the island in his open air jeep, with the friendliest doberman we have ever met (he was actually a wimp, except when it came to ridding the island of rats). We heard all about the island’s history, especially the drug smugglers landing on the airstrip. Evidence was still there with a plane half in the water that went off the runway. 

Although very little drug smuggling was going on at the time and that was part of the caretaker’s job to keep them away, he told us to lay low and don’t come out of the boat if we hear a plane at night. Meanwhile, we were invited to dinner and hot showers at the caretaker’s house. After 6 weeks of cold or tepid ‘sun showers’ in the cockpit and eating lots of canned food, this sure was a treat! The next day we had more tours and were told about all the flotsam that had been found on the gorgeous beaches, including a couple of messages in bottles, bails of marijuana, and turtle eggs and hatchlings. Then it was time to pay our dues for this experience of a lifetime. One of the hobbies that Robert had was to take the sea turtle hatchlings he found and keep them in pens until they are big enough to survive being released back into the wild. However, without the flow-through of the water in the cove, algae began to grow on the turtles backs. They have to be grabbed out of the water and with toothbrush in hand, carefully cleaned. What a price to pay and a job that we stepped right up and volunteered for.

The caretaker’s job was shared with Robert’s father who came from Miami and relieved him for a few weeks. Dad also invited us to dinner at his house and loaded us up with all sorts of magazines to read. More cold fronts were on the horizon, so we knew we had to leave and press onward. The channel going in and out of the cove was unmarked, very shallow, and narrow, causing us to go aground at mid-tide. He kept an eye on us until we got in the deep spot and out in the Sea of Abaco and waved us good-bye. As we were motoring westward I remembered the gift that had been given to us before Robert left to fly back to Miami, that I had not opened but put down below in Celebrity. It’s a good thing I remembered it, because when I unwrapped the package it was filled with pot! After having a good laugh, we needed to find a way to dispose of it since we did not want to be caught enroute by the Bahamas Defense Force or U.S. Coast Guard. The only thing we could think to do with it was to sink it. Dave found one of his conch shells he was going to turn into a conch horn, so we stuffed it and dropped it into the sea. Another memory to add to this unforgettable trip. Plus, the moral of the story is don’t believe everything you read!

Cruising Memories #1

I know that there has been a lack of posts lately, but that is because we have been doing 'normal' things and have gone to places that I have written about before. There are some events coming up, with perhaps a surprise or two, but meanwhile I thought I would go back in time and post some of my cruising memories from a long time ago. I wrote these back in the summer of 2019, when I thought I would join the Writer's Circle in Hope Town. However, all that changed with Hurricane Dorian and my ramblings have sat in a document that I found on my computer a few days ago. I went to my photo albums (remember those before digital? 😉) and took photos of the photos to add. It will take several days to list my stories, since they are fairly long, but here is the first one that I hope you enjoy...

Our first time crossing the Gulf Stream was on our Caliber 28 sailboat named Celebrity. 

We had waited awhile at Peanut Island in West Palm Beach for the right weather to cross to the Bahamas, but the cold fronts just kept on marching. Finally, a one-day weather window was predicted before the next front arrived. We left the inlet in the middle of the night and our trip was across the ocean was uneventful and calm. That is until the sun started rising and we saw our first land in the distance. From now on we will heed the saying, “red sky in the morning, sailors take warning.” 

Unlike the easy entrance from the ocean to what is now called West End’s Old Bahama Bay, back in 1986 the entrance to the marina called Jack Tar Village, was behind a cut from the ocean to the shallow sand banks, with the entrance on the shallows. When the wind and seas picked up, the waves broke all the way across the cut, so it was hard to know where the deepest water was. 

Just before we approached the cut, the cold front hit us and the west wind made the waves quickly build to about 8-10 ft. Our timing was only about an hour off, but conditions changed significantly in such a short period of time. We turned around and headed into the waves to assess the situation as we were climbing up the waves and then falling off the other side, slamming into the troughs. We could not determine where the unmarked channel was into the shallows, but did see a U.S. Coast Guard cutter in the distance. Dave radioed them to see if they could help get us through the cut, but since they were not authorized to do this and had to stay in international waters, all they could do was to stand by in case we had any problems. I suppose it put our minds a little more at ease that if we didn’t make it and capsized, they would come a runnin’! Thankfully, within about half an hour, the wind eased just enough after the initial cold front blasted us and we could see one little spot where the waves weren’t breaking. We turned around and headed downwind again, surfing through the cut and into the calm shallow water. As we entered the marina channel to clear Customs and Immigration, there was a local Bahamian man fishing off the end of the jetty. He waved heartily and yelled, “Welcome to the Bahamas, Mon!” That was one of those ‘oh my gosh, we made it moments’. What a relief and such a memorable start of many adventures to come.