James River cruise

We are upbound on the James River, headed for the town of Hopewell, Virginia. This morning found us anchored in Cobham Bay, adjacent to the nuclear power plant, where the condenser outflow added ten degrees to the water temperature and kept us comfortable on an otherwise chilly night.

When I posted from our early stop on the North River on Saturday, I was eager to get the blog posted as already written. What I did not mention in that post was that we were barely two hours out of the boatyard when Louise asked "what's that rattle?" The deaf guy, of course, detected no rattle until it was pointed out. We spent a half hour underway changing rpms and shifting in and out of gear until we recognized it as the death knell of the transmission damper plate.

Vector in her element at High Street, Portsmouth.

Long-time readers will know we've been through this before, and I wrote up the replacement process in this post six years ago. That damper went out right at 5,000 hours, and we just rolled past 10,000 a couple of months ago, so the folklore that these last about 5,000 hours is dead-on. One thing we knew from that experience is that our damper is fail-safe and we could safely continue at our normal horsepower, which is quite low. We've eliminated the daily 80% power run-up and I am watching my maneuvering rpms.

The replacement can be done in the water, but pushing the shaft back into place and re-aligning the line cutters would have been easier while we were still on the hard. Oh well; we'll have to get a diver to do the line cutters, just like last time. I spent most of Saturday afternoon trying to source a replacement damper plate and refreshing my memory on what was involved in the process. I found a brand new damper plate in stock at the distributor in Oxnard, California, but of course I could not make calls regarding shipping until Tuesday.

We had a spectacular sunset from our anchorage on the North River.

Our plan before this event had been to continue to Hampton Roads and take the first outside weather window to jump around the Delmarva peninsula to New Jersey. That plan was now at least on hold, if not out altogether in favor of the Chesapeake Bay route. In the meantime, out friends Dave and Stacey have been tempting us to Hopewell, where Dave has the proverbial boatload of exactly the epoxy I need to fix the granite counter crack I mentioned in the last post. Not to mention a $15/day dock where we might do some of the work.

Of course, we always love to see Stacey and Dave anyway, and we can usually count on some of Dave's wonderful home cooking during the course of a visit. It's a 100+ mile detour to our already somewhat delayed northing plans, so the epoxy and the inexpensive dock were just the final sweetener on the deal. We also hoped we might connect with our friends Steve and Sandy, who live near Richmond, as long as we're up here.

Vector was all alone at the bulkhead in Great Bridge. Two boats were at the wood docks on the other side of the bridge, including our friends on Calypso.

After I was done scouring the 'net for dampers and redoing the routes to take us up the James, we had a nice dinner on board and a quiet night. A couple of other boats pulled off-channel near us for the night. We kept the boat pretty well buttoned up and dark, as we have entered midge season.

Sunday morning we weighed anchor based on timing the gantlet of Chesapeake bridges, and immediately found ourselves in the middle of a northbound conga line. In short order we were overtaken by a gaggle of motor yachts and sportfishers, and even a tugboat towing, I kid you not, one of those tourist jet boats. By the time we passed through Coinjock most of the boats that had passed us a day earlier were already gone. I did notice that they have renovated much of the face dock at the old Midway marina across the canal, where we stayed on our first time through.

When I saw this new venue for Vino my heart sank. I figured it meant the end of the one near the dock.

We did a pretty good job timing our departure and were only a few minutes early for the North Landing Bridge. Then we slow-rolled all the way to Great Bridge, with a full 90 minutes to close just seven miles. This is a luxury afforded us only on the weekends, when the Centerville Turnpike bridge is on demand. Several motor yachts, who did not get the memo about bridge schedules, overtook us in a huff and then spent a half hour or so station-keep for the Great Bridge Bridge. A couple tied to the park docks to wait it out, then insisted on crowding into us when the bridge opened.

As soon as we cleared the bridge we tied to our usual spot on the Great Bridge bulkhead (map). We had the whole bulkhead to ourselves, and, unusually so, we were alone there all night. I relaxed for a few minutes after we were tied up, but then I had to dive right in to the errands we had scheduled here, starting with a mile-and-a-half hike out to the Amazon locker. The much closer Amazon locker, in the Rite-Aid, is closed due to the imminent closure of the store as part of the bankruptcy.

The tail end of the Memorial Day parade going by across the basin as we tied up.

On the way to the locker, and nearly the whole way there, I passed by a brand new Vino restaurant, which looked to be mere hours from opening for business. Our plan had been to eat at the Vino right next to the dock, which Google and their own web site had said was open, and which looked no different when I passed it, but after spotting the new store I learned the dockside location was closed for good. Drats.

On the way back to the boat I made a provisioning stop at the Kroger supermarket and the Dollar Tree store. When I passed the old Vino again just before getting home, there were trucks outside loading up fixtures to move.  This is the second time a favorite eatery near these docks has closed up; Vino had become our new go-to after our long-time favorite El Toro Loco was forced to move a few years ago.

All secure. Our ensign is at half staff until noon.

By the time we had all the provisions stowed it was time to go to dinner. With Vino gone we fell to one of our long-time backup options, the Lockside Bar & Grill across the canal. Fortunately, it's on the correct side of Battlefield Boulevard, which is so difficult to cross that we've been known to wait for the bridge lift to cross the street. The food is decent and they have some nice drafts. It was a long driving day with a big walk and I pretty much collapsed after dinner and turned in early.

While we had a short day Monday, we needed to get an early start to have slack tide when we reached the Top Rack Marina, where the docks are perpendicular to the current. So we dropped lines to make the 9 o'clock lockage, after first hoisting the ensign to half staff for Memorial Day. We were secured in the lock in plenty of time to watch the conga line of boats come through the 9 am bridge lift and then enter the lock with varying degrees of skill, our morning entertainment.

In a decade we have yet to try this restored theater, where you can order dinner and wine with your flick. This movie was tempting, but I had too much to do in our single evening.

We arrived at Top Rack mostly at slack water as planned, and had no trouble tying up. This is mostly a dry stack marina, and Memorial Day would normally be very busy, and they staffed accordingly. Today, however, was rainy, windy, and cold, and the place was dead. Consequently we got both dockhands, bored to tears, down at the dock to help with our ten-dollar pump-out. Normally we are here for an hour fueling up, but we are still mostly full from the cheap stop in Fernandina Beach.

The early start and short service stop had us arriving to High Street Landing in Portsmouth before lunch. We were a bit worried that we'd arrive to find the landing busy with the annual Memorial Day celebration, and were prepared to continue to the anchorage to avoid disturbing it, but the city has instead returned to the traditional parade, and as we were tying up we caught the last ten minutes of the parade coming down High Street and turning onto Water Street. The inside bulkhead was occupied and so we tied on the outside (map), rather than risk damage at the wood docks from the low pilings and the water coming over the docks.

Marine patrol towing in a log. You can barely see it below the surface.

After lunch we briefly thought the jig was up, as we watched the Portsmouth PD marine patrol boat approaching us from the river, lights blazing. You can't park there, mate. Just before reaching our stern they turned into the basin, and we could see they were towing something. That turned out to be an enormous log they had found in the river, and they struggled to get it alongside the dock. I went over to lend a hand, but even three of us could not lift it from the water, so they tied it to a piling. I suggested I could get it out of the basin at high tide when the water would be well over the dock, and Sergeant McGee gave me his card. I took a nice stroll around town.

With several places dark on Monday, we walked to the Old Towne Public House for dinner. We've walked out of this place in the past because it can get very noisy, but tonight was fine and they had decent food and some nice drafts. At 9pm or so I went outside in my watermen's boots and was able to wrestle the errant log up onto dry concrete, texting a photo to the good Sergeant and calling it done.

I was able to float it across the awash docks and lever it onto the concrete at high tide.

Yesterday morning we took a quick walk in our only chance to get off the boat, then dropped lines at 8:30 to have a fair tide on the James. That meant pushing against some flood on the Elizabeth, but at least the harbor traffic was at a low simmer. I did have to drive over a dredge pipe as I made my turn past Craney Island, but the leverman was very responsive and said we'd have no trouble with it.

As we crossed the Middle Ground we passed an anchored tug and barge that I noticed right away because it had a distinct color on the chart. It was the boat our friend Tim was skippering up until his retirement just a couple of weeks ago. Regular readers may know we tied up to that tug in NY harbor last year for a quick visit. Tim and his lovely fiancé are sailing across the Atlantic, halfway to the Azores now, and you can follow them at svPaquita on YouTube.

This nice park in Old Towne has a modern play structure, but they still found a way to hang an honest rope swing from the old tree.

Coming into the James we were following a bulker, Lefkes, upriver, and we could see the James River lift bridge open for her. Louise pulled her up on AIS and said she was bound for USHPW and wondered where that was. I knew immediately, because I had entered it in our own AIS when we left the dock -- she was bound for Hopewell, just like us.

We had a fine trip upriver, passing the Newport News shipyard, the lift bridge, and the James River ghost fleet. After lunch I called the parts distributor in Oxnard to confirm they had a damper plate and to get the skinny on shipping. That turned out to be via FedEx ground, and Louise and I spent some time figuring out where we could get a FedEx delivery about a week out.

Still there in the daylight, this shot shows how difficult it would be to remove at this tide level.

One option would have been to have it sent to Hopewell, where we have inexpensive dockage. But that would have us there well over a week, and there are not a lot of resources outside of myself and Dave should anything go sideways with the project. If we should end up needing a yard or haulout it would be a very long tow.

After a lot of back and forth, we decided to book a night at the city dock in downtown Hampton. Long-time readers may remember we spent a week there while we had the steering rams rebuilt, so it's a familiar place and I know I can get most anything I need with a short scooter ride. Should things go pear-shaped, the Bluewater Yacht boatyard is right next door. We booked an arrival of Tuesday to coincide with when we think the damper will arrive, and then I ordered the damper plate.

A follower snapped this shot of us on our way out of Portsmouth, with Norfolk in the background. Photo: Russ Dykstra

We had following current all the way from Hampton Roads, and I would have run another hour or so upriver past slack. The forecast, however, was calling for 30 mph winds out of the east to southeast overnight, which sent us to the chart to look for an anchorage with enough protection in that direction.

That turned out to be the aforementioned Cobham Bay, adjacent to Hog Point and the Surry nuclear power plant, where we dropped the hook just upriver of the plant's canal (map). This plant pulls its cooling water from downriver using giant pumps, then discharges it upriver into the bay. Other than the hum of the plant, it was quiet, and mostly dark, with just a skyward glow from the plant that was behind a thick cover of trees.

USS John F Kennedy still under construction, and USS Enterprise being dismantled. I took the same photo five years ago and they don't look much different today.

This morning we waited until 10:30 to weigh anchor, to have a fair tide upriver. I hoped that start time would also put us into Hopewell toward the end of the flood, with slack water giving us the option to dock in either direction. It was not to be; the flood has been stronger than the NOAA tables predicted, and we've been racing upriver all day, with a projected arrival a full hour before slack. We left in limited visibility in misty rain, but things have been improving all day.

Update: We are now docked at the city marina in Hopewell (map). We made such good time that I had to set the blog aside unfinished to navigate the last few miles of the James and the turn into the Appomattox. As we approached the turn, so did the tug Jeanie Clay from the other direction, pushing an empty scow, and we held back and followed him upriver.

Lefkes at the pier in Hopewell as we approach the Appomattox. We started upriver right behind her but she arrived a full day ahead of us. 

Dave, Stacey, and dockmaster Billy met us on the face dock as we spun around and came alongside, and we were all tied up, secured, and plugged in by 4pm. We headed right over to Stinkpot to catch up, collect our mail that we had sent here, and steal Dave's epoxy supply. And then in honor of National Hamburger Day (really), Dave drove us to the local burger bar, Carr Brothers, for excellent burgers and a few beers.

Tomorrow I will get started on fixing the counter top, and trying to collect all the supplies I will need for the damper plate replacement, including fresh bolts and some very specific grease for the shaft splines. I've asked the Hampton marina if they have a list of divers to deal with the line cutters, and I am also looking for an able assistant to help me muscle the tranny around.