Harry Heckel built Idle Queen from a bare hull, and then sailed her around the world. Twice. By himself. He is now 97 years old and still getting around quite well. It is an honor to know him. –Barry
Click on pictures in the gallery below to enlarge them.
Sunday, August 4, Idle Queen finally sailed out of Oriental’s harbor. And I do mean “sailed”. The last errand to run in Oriental was to bring the boat in to the fuel dock to top off all of our tanks before heading out. I was planning to sail off from the dock, but a power boat came in just as we were finishing with fueling up, so I elected to motor out instead of keeping him waiting. Once clear of the dock, though, we put up sail and slowly gathered speed as we left the inner harbor.
The wind was blowing from the north, and turning to the northeast. This meant that the Neuse River was smooth as we sailed along a mile from shore. Unfortunately, this also meant that the wind would be against us once we turned the corner to head into Pamlico Sound. I had wanted to head up the sound to visit Manteo on the way north, but the wind stayed northeast, which would have been on the nose, making the decision to motor north on the ICW route an easy one. I have discovered that ol’ Idle Queen is not terribly fond of going to weather. We anchored for a day to try to invent storage solutions for a few troublesome pieces of gear, and get the depthsounder working.
Although I generally dread hours of motoring, I do enjoy the canals for their close views of the landscape. Smooth waters are a bonus. We still set sail at every opportunity and didn’t transit any of the legs between Oriental and Elizabeth City entirely under power. That didn’t do much for our speed, though. We met a fellow sailor in Elizabeth City on a 20′ Pacific Seacraft “Flicka” who was amazed that, #1- we were sailing in the cuts; and, #2- he was pulling away from us. Well, the wind isn’t all that consistent when surrounded by all those trees, but a fair breeze is a fair breeze.
There was plenty of wildlife to hold our interest and take our minds off the heat as we motored and sailed north to anchor up past Belhaven. The cuts were well-populated with birds, turtles, dragonflies, and loads of butterflies. I also enjoy looking at the trees along the banks of the canals. It is amazing to look at the size of some of the stumps that are all that remain of old cypress and juniper trees from long ago–those stumps are huge. The trees growing along the cuts today are just babies in comparison with the monsters that were cut down to leave stumps of six feet and more in diameter.
We sailed past Belhaven. Even though the promise of a free city dock was slightly tempting, we had a good breeze and made 10 more miles before anchoring in the dark just outside of the channel.
The next day, we arose early to start before the day heated up. Before leaving, I checked the engine over and pulled the zinc to have a look. It was not much more than mush. Hmm… Well past time to change it. I pulled a new pencil zinc from my stock only to discover that it was much too long and had to cut it down. I thought I had bought a half-dozen zincs of the correct size, but it was obvious that I hadn’t. At least I had something that would work. A few frustrating minutes with a hacksaw and some trial-and-error fitting had a new zinc anode in the engine. I tightened the alternator belt as well and we were soon underway. We made it a very long day, as the wind turned fair while we were in the canal. We sailed up the Alligator River, through the bridge, across Albermarle Sound, and up the Pasquotank River to anchor just a mile from the downtown waterfront of Elizabeth City. It was 0200 before we had the anchor down that morning.
Arising before the wind came up the next day, we motored down to the free city docks and backed Idle Queen in to one of the slips. We received a most friendly welcome from the assistant harbormaster and a couple of interested bystanders.
Our stay in Elizabeth City was delightful. We arrived only planning to stay for a day, but ended up staying for three. How could we leave, what with invitations to drive down to Edenton and Rocky Hock; head out to a mud boggin’ competition in Currituck; and let’s not forget the awesome farmer’s market on Saturday morning… Besides the personal connections, there are great services for boaters: free city docks; strong wifi; access to water; free loaner bikes; and access to nearby toilets. All of this is right in a beautifully maintained waterfront park just a short walk from restaurants, art galleries, and more. We made wonderful friends and memories during our brief stay in Elizabeth City and look forward to visiting again soon.
The past few weeks seem a blur, but the result of all the long days that have been put in is that Idle Queen is ready enough to start her voyage north.
In the past two months a lot was accomplished. First, Idle Queen was stripped bare of anything easily removable, scrubbed inside and out with vinegar and then bleach to cut down on the musty smell of long-term storage. We removed the disintegrating headliner that was falling down, insulation that was crumbling, and about 40 pounds of dirt from the bilges. Much of the interior was painted. New cushions were cut and covered with covers made from bed sheets. Personal effects were loaded aboard. Food was stowed. Gear was put aboard until there was no more room, and then more gear was loaded.
The boat is cluttered with gear that I hope to sell or trade. Mostly, it is things that I accumulated in trade for doing project work for other boaters. For the past year, I have had a “no charge” policy when doing work for others. Some people thanked me, some gave me money anyway, and some gave me gear. I have replaced many worn-out pieces of gear aboard Idle Queen, but still have much to get rid of. I am heading north with three steering-gears aboard, for instance.
I will be sure to post more soon, but for now, it is time to get going…
Oriental has a bit of a reputation as being a place that sort of sucks people in. All sorts of folks show up here planning to only stay a day or a week, but for one reason or another they end up staying longer… sometimes much longer. This lovely little town is full of stories of folks who came to visit, and later ended up buying property and settling down.
Bas and Selena probably knew that they would be here for more than a few days when they pulled in. Their sailboat, Selena, had lost her mast hundreds of miles from the coast while sailing up from the BVI’s, and then suffered major engine damage when two engine mounts broke from the cast block of their forty-three-year-old British Motor Company engine.
To watch the following video interview with better quality, please see it on YouTube here.
Bas and Monique are enjoying the friendly atmosphere of Oriental, but also wondering how they will be able to sail their boat back home. Selena is a lovely yacht, and it would be heartbreaking for them to have to give her up due to their recent misfortune. When visiting aboard, it is immediately obvious that much time and attention has been given to Selena throughout the 43 years since she was first launched. Bas was friends with the original owners and has been sailing on Selena ever since 1970. Now I am trying to spread the word to help them find a new rig to bring Selena home.
To read more about Selena‘s “adventure”, please see my previous post here.
Last week, while sailing Idle Queen back to her slip after a short daysail on the Neuse River, I greeted a couple on a Dutch-flagged boat. The man in the cockpit waved as we glided silently by. I motioned at the mop handle that they had rigged in the place where their mast should have been and said that there must be a story to go along with it. He said that there was, and that I should come by to hear it later.
A couple of days passed before I saw them again, as I was busy working on preparing Sirocco to go back in the water. I was happy to finally catch up with them, as they seemed like very friendly people who obviously were having more than the usual share of boat trouble. I was invited onboard Selena, their 33′ steel sailboat, introduced to Bas and Monique, and offered coffee and tea while Bas recounted his tale about what happened to the mast.
After visiting the BVI’s together, Monique flew home to take care of some things while Bas headed north toward Beaufort, NC. During the trip, Bas had been experiencing the usual varied weather that comes this time of year, but nothing terrible. Daily runs were good–up to 140 miles with his Aries windvane doing the steering. On March 26, the wind began to pick up a bit to force 6-7, which is not bad, but against the Gulf Stream the seas soon grew to steep, short-period 10-footers that made life aboard challenging and uncomfortable. This was nothing worse than what Bas and Selena had been through before, though. Bas thought nothing of the conditions, and just worked through all of his daily chores, such as cooking and writing the log, with one hand while he held on with the other. (Brings a whole extra level of meaning to the term “singlehanded”, eh?)
Things took a turn for the worse at 0330 (why does everything bad happen then?) on Wednesday, March 27. Bas was down below when he heard a big bang, and the boat’s movement suddenly slowed. He knew what had happened before he even made it on deck. His mast had gone over the side and was now hanging suspended by the twisted rigging. When he got on deck to survey the damage, he was greeted with, in his own words, “a surreal sight, in the light of the half moon, in the clear blue water–a mast with sails upside-down.”
After briefly considering what to do next (“What now, sit down and cry, activate my EPIRB and wait to be rescued?”), he knew that he must fight to get back to shore on his own. He acted quickly to free the rigging, as the sea state was still rough and the mast and boom were banging against the side of the hull. He studied the situation and concluded that there was no way to safely retrieve any of the gear. Bas disconnected all of the rigging and let his mast, boom, sails, and radar drop 4,000 meters to the ocean floor below.
Bas called Monique with a satellite phone that she had given to him as a present to help stay in touch. He told her that he was 330 miles from the Beaufort inlet and that Selena was now a motorboat.
Soon after calling Monique, there was another loud bang aboard Selena, followed by hissing. The liferaft had inflated and blown overboard and was now trailing at the stern! Bas struggled for four hours to successfully get it back on deck and secured. He then rigged the mop handle on the mast step and to it attached a running light and his spare VHF antenna. Now, only to motor over 300 miles to the coast…
The engine was in good condition, but Selena did not carry enough fuel to make it to shore. Bas motored to within 40 miles of Beaufort and then radioed the Coast Guard, who brought extra hands and sufficient diesel fuel in jerry cans to get him to Beaufort. Selena suffered some damage when the cutter bumped heavily against her side in the still-rough sea, but that was not a big problem. The bigger problem arose when Bas was told to put the engine in gear to move away from the side of the cutter. Nobody had noticed that one of the Coast Guard sailors had left a line trailing in the water, but Selena‘s propeller soon found it, stopping the engine with a thump. With the engine now out of commission, the Coast Guard towed Selena in the rest of the way.
Bas had nothing but good to say about his experience with the Coast Guard. They were friendly and courteous as well as going about their work in a professional manner. He said that they were very apologetic for the extra damage and offered him forms for the repairs to be covered by insurance. Bas was surprised when Coast Guard sailors would come by just to chat and hear his story while he was in Beaufort deciding what to do next.
After recovering for a short while, and having Monique rejoin him, Bas decided to continue north up the ICW. They motored out of Beaufort with a battered boat, but grateful that things weren’t worse. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that there was more damage to be discovered. While motoring through Adam’s Creek Cut, Monique smelled burning coming from the engine room. It turned out to be coming from the shaft packing. On closer inspection, the root of the problem was worse than expected–the two rear engine mounts had broken from the casting of the engine block. This was a major problem, as the engine was English-built (BMC, British Motor Company) and almost 45 years old. The chance of locating parts for it was next to zero.
Selena made it to Oriental under her own power, and Bas and Monique took her to Deaton Yacht Service to begin working on getting at least the engine in working condition. Bas says that if they are not able to find a solution to at least mounting the engine that they would just have to let the boat go, as an old steel sailboat with no rig and no engine is not worth much, and re-powering would be cost prohibitive, as Selena‘s insurance refused to pay for the rig because Bas was alone on the boat when it failed.
So, now Bas and Monique are stuck in Oriental with time ticking on their visas. The yard is working on the engine while Bas and Monique work on other repairs. They have been able to explore the area a bit, but they are growing anxious about what to do next. One of the biggest questions is how to get the boat home next season. Crossing the North Atlantic west to east is not a passage to be taken lightly. As Bas said, they have already done the easy part (the east-to-west crossing), and now the challenge is to get home again safely.
One of my first thoughts after hearing this story was that there must surely be a good rig somewhere here on the east coast that could be had at a fraction of trying to re-rig Selena with new gear. Hundreds of boats have been wrecked in storms in the past few years, and I am certain that someone wants to sell their “used but good” boat parts. What is needed is everything above deck-level: mast, boom, sails, spreaders, wire–all of it. If we can find a rig in good condition, I am sure that Bacon Sails of Annapolis or somebody similar would have sails at a reasonable price. I am asking anyone who knows of anyone selling a rig to please comment here or contact me through the contact form here.
Links to marine salvage yards and the like are useful. Please send along anything that you think might be helpful. For instance, surely someone knows of a 32-34 foot boat somewhere that was totaled but still has a good rig. Bas and Monique are not looking for free stuff, but rather something that is more modestly priced than buying it all new. They are a wonderful couple and I hope that we can help them avoid having to give up their boat.
Over the years that I have been sailing, I have logged miles on a number of different craft from an International Sabot up to a steel schooner of about 200 gross tons. Most of my time has been in small, shoal-draft centerboard sailboats up to about 20 feet long; racing keelboat designs like the J-29; and the few cruising sailboats that I have owned over the years. I benefitted from spending time in a broad variety of different sailboats by getting a taste of how different types of boats perform in various conditions. This has given me the opportunity to compare the merits of the different classes of boats.
When I was younger, I craved performance. I wanted nothing more than to just go as fast as possible on the water. My desire for speed eventually led me to become a windsurfing enthusiast, but that is a whole other story. During my high-school and college years I spent a lot of time in International, and then Collegiate 420’s, a two-person dinghy. I thought they were slow and longed to spend time in a more performance-oriented dinghy, even though the 420’s could easily plane and give a good ride when the whitecaps showed up. When I started sailing keelboats, it was mostly the smaller J-boats (24’s and 29’s, mostly), but there was time spent on numerous other designs. I loved the taste of performance multi-hull sailing that I experienced as fill-in crew aboard a Nacra 6.0. The boats that I sailed in my teens and twenties were mostly well-regarded classes that taught me what a fun, responsive boat felt like. They sailed well in a wide variety of conditions with good speed and few bad habits. There is a reason that the one-design dinghies and keelboats that I sailed in were such popular designs–they were good all-round boats.
When I finally had enough money to consider buying my own sailboat I began to consider all aspects of its use. I couldn’t really justify spending a ton of money on a boat that was only good for racing. By this time my sights were fixed on the far horizon rather than outright speed. I wanted to explore the world from the deck of my own sailboat, so I decided to look for a reliable design that could take me anywhere I wanted to go. What I ended up with was a Pearson Vanguard–a 32-foot racer/cruiser designed to the old Cruising Club of America rating rule.
Buying the Vanguard was a huge step for me in many ways. It was the first “big” boat that I had ever owned, it was my first home on the water, and it allowed me my first significant experience with something other than a centerboard or fin keel design.
The Vanguard has a “cutaway” keel with the rudder attached to the trailing edge. Looking at the profile of the boat, there is a lot of area that has been cut away, or hollowed out, making the deep part of the keel start a long way back from the bow. This is done in an effort to reduce the amount of boat in contact with the water, or wetted surface, to make the boat faster when the wind is light. This design achieves its intended goal of reducing wetted surface, but pays the price of introducing a couple of undesirable handling characteristics. The one that I remember most is how the bow would blow downwind when trying to maneuver at low speed. The high bow and long forward overhang on the Vanguard would catch the wind, turning the boat broadside to the wind very quickly. There was no underwater surface to counteract this tendency, and the rudder was way under the boat at the end of the shortened keel. This reduced the rudder’s effectiveness by giving it a shorter lever arm for turning the boat. Fin-keel boats don’t have a surface underwater up forward to stop the bow from blowing away from the wind either, but their rudders are placed farther back on the boat, which gives a stronger turning force and allows better control in low speed situations (especially in reverse) compared to the cutaway-keel boat.
On the positive side, I really came to appreciate some of the good qualities of the cutaway keel on the Vanguard. The keel on the Vanguard is molded with the boat as one unit. The shape transitions smoothly from the hull to the keel, which prevents the front part of the keel from loading up with seaweed when sailing–a real plus when there is a lot of weed in the water! The shape of the keel also helps reduce shock loads in some grounding situations, such as when running onto a sloped sandbar. Not having a long fin keel sticking out of the boat also reduces structural loads when running aground–in particular eliminating the point-loading at the trailing edge of the fin keel that can cause it to push up into the hull and cause a lot of damage. Having the rudder attached to the trailing edge of the keel helps prevent seaweed, lobster and crab pot floats, and other fishing gear from getting trapped on the rudder. The keel shields the propeller as well. I never once had a pot or fishing line caught on my Vanguard, though I often sailed in waters thick with fishing gear. Besides making my life easier, fishermen don’t exactly appreciate having yachtsmen cut their floats from props and rudders, either…
A cutaway-keel boat tracks better than a fin-keel boat. The Vanguard didn’t need constant, minute attention to the helm. I could count on her to track well if I needed to adjust a sheet or otherwise divert my attention for a moment. This is a great characteristic to have in a cruising boat. I could balance the boat and let her sail herself for a while if I needed to go forward to attend something or use the head. I have had some luck locking the helm down on a fin-keel boat to keep them going straight for a short while, but this technique is not as effective as when used on a cutaway-keel boat or a full-keel boat.
Overall, the cutaway-keel Vanguard was a surprisingly enjoyable boat. I didn’t feel too handicapped by the speed penalty that I paid for the extra wetted surface of the cutaway full keel. She still had good speed even in light airs, and offered a more comfortable motion than most fin-keel boats that I have been on. The comfort was due in part to her keel design, but also because the Vanguard was heavier, deeper, lower in freeboard, and had a more moderate beam than the other cruising sailboats that I had experienced. I don’t want to contribute to the myth that there aren’t any comfortable fin-keel boats out there! Those boats do exist. They are just more difficult to find (it’s not fashionable to build relatively narrow boats with easy bilge sections these days) and still won’t offer the other advantages of a keel with an attached rudder, like weed-shedding, or a rudder that doesn’t rely solely on the stock for attachment to the boat…
When I went searching for a small, versatile cruiser a few years ago I settled on the Contessa 26. This design is based on an older design than the Vanguard, and has a much longer cutaway keel. It is getting pretty close to a full keel, but still has a concave shape to the forward end. The longer keel eliminated some of the poor handling characteristics of the more dramatically cut-away keel on the Vanguard. Having a longer keel gave the rudder a longer lever arm and actually improved steering, even though there was a much longer keel to drag through tight turns. She tracked like a dream and worked very well with her self-steering gear in all conditions. I loved sailing this boat. The Contessa 26 design was close enough to a proper, old-school full-keel boat that it seemed only a small leap to go all the way to a full-keel the next time that I went boat shopping…
Use it up! Wear it out! Make it do, or do without! –That’s the old cheapskate’s mantra, and one that it currently in use here on Idle Queen, where I am consistently trying to eke just a little more life out of each old component and piece of gear.
Not buying new stuff for the boat is one of the ways that I am trying to keep my boating costs in check, and it is a real uphill battle. At every turn, there are shiny new pieces of boat gear just begging to be purchased. It is true that there are a lot of things aboard old Idle Queen that really are quite worn and are ready to be replaced, but equally there are a lot of things that I just don’t need that I have to fight the impulse to buy and put on board. For instance, there is currently a working anchor windlass aboard. It is electric, and not a very large windlass, but it works and it pulls harder than I can by hand. I want to replace it with a stoutly-built manual windlass that won’t require long runs of heavy electrical cable or place a big load on the aging batteries, but I don’t need it right now. Instead, I should replace that rotten pile of dust that used to be a supporting member of the boomkin. That is more of a necessity than the windlass that I want.
Keeping the boat’s actual needs prioritized and focusing my energy on actually whittling down the list from the most important to the least is a trying exercise in self-discipline. I mean, shopping for, fabricating, and installing a new piece of spruce for the boomkin is hardly as much fun as shopping for marine electronics or even anchoring gear. (I love shopping for anchors and gear–crazy, I know…)
I am trying to make as few trips to the marine stores as possible to reduce the temptation to get sidetracked on things that I don’t really need, and so far the strategy is working. Staying out of the stores means that there are fewer opportunities to buy something on impulse. I am taking that strategy further, though, by coming up with simple solutions to needs that I find aboard Idle Queen and reminding myself that I can go a long way with what is already on board, or even less. Harry Heckle Jr., the original owner of Idle Queen, didn’t even add a windlass until he had been out voyaging for decades. I don’t know how he dealt with hauling the hook up in a blow, but I know that I can rig up a block and tackle to a strong point to get almost as much mechanical advantage as some windlasses would provide, thus solving the problem with gear I already have aboard.
Getting Idle Queen out cruising again is going to be an exercise in frugality if I am actually going to make it work. I will share what I learn as I go along.
Just posted a new video to the Sirocco playlist on the Setforsea YouTube channel. I have finally figured out how to cut bad parts out of the video and add narration. Hope you enjoy this minute of footage from what was a glorious day of sailing. At least it was, right up until a front came through and brought 30 knots of wind from exactly where we wanted to go…
I just returned to Oriental, NC, after helping to move a boat north to Annapolis, MD for a friend. It is still a little bit early in the season to be heading north, and the crew was chilled by the biting north wind that slowed our progress. Still, it was a successful trip made without any unpleasant surprises.
One of the most memorable aspects of that short (just under 360 miles in 4 days) trip was that it was marked by almost constant headwinds. Our progress was slowed to speeds frequently below 4 knots, and to less than one knot for one short, but painfully slow stretch even though the boat’s powerful diesel engine was working hard enough to have pushed us at over 6 knots had we been in calm seas. To have frequent northerlies at this time of year is to be expected, and we certainly had our share.
The same trip could likely have been made with warm winds at our backs in just another month or two, but then the anchorages and marinas would be crowded with others out enjoying the spring breezes. In my own cruising life, uncrowded waterways and anchorages are among the reasons that can make cruising out of season an attractive venture.
I am often content to travel out of season and take my lumps. It’s not even really necessary to get beaten up too badly by the weather. This most recent trip was made through the contrary winds of winter in order to adhere to a schedule, but free of the push to be at our destination as soon as possible it could have been an easy trip even though it was still winter. The beautiful days don’t come as frequently when cruising out of season, but for one who is willing to wait, there are still plenty of fair winds to be had even though the temperatures may be chilly. One may enjoy the truly exquisite days when they do arrive with the additional satisfaction of having had to endure a little discomfort to “earn” them, and the uncrowded anchorage at day’s end or voyage’s end is shared only with the hardier of nature’s creatures.
The owner of this propeller has his boat on the hard and is doing some work himself. Many of the other boats in this yard have propellers that have been cleaned and even polished to a nice, bright bronze. I saw this boat when it first arrived, and it had obviously been neglected for some time. The prop was covered in barnacles. It seems that the owner looked around; saw the bright wheels (propellers) on the boats around him, and formulated a plan to make his look like the others. That plan obviously involved a can of shiny, metallic-colored spray paint. If you click on the picture above, you can see the spray paint overspray on the shaft. Well, that is a quick way to get a shiny propeller, but I don’t think the spray paint is going to hold up well underwater. It also seems that he is missing the point of cleaning up the propeller–to get better motoring efficiency. Or, could it be that this guy knows something I don’t?
I don’t plan on any of this sort of window dressing for Idle Queen–no shiny bits intended only for show. She’s going to be rough and ready… Maybe more towards “rough”…
