One, short trip and I was in lurrrrve. The place is tiny, quaint, and steeped in history. It's totally walkable, and has excellent food. Excellent anchorage, or accommodations.
That trip wasn't without it's flubs. I misjudged my timing, and ended up sailing alone, at night, in an unfamiliar place, all for the first time ever. The next morning, due to a faulty O-ring, I caught my galley stove on fire, and was lucky not to burn my boat to the waterline.
Here I was:

And here I is, now:

Now? Fuggedaboutit!
I had food, glorious food. A safe(er) working stove, plenty of cabin space, plenty to drink (both alcoholic and non), music, cooling fans, hatch scoop (for funneling the breeze down below), a working chart plotter, a fresh water system with totally drinkable water, rail grill, plates, cups, bowls, pots, pans, utensils and all that jazz. The breeze was light for all 3 days, but my 170% genoa (a no-no in PHRF), kept me moving, nice and steady.
I visited the Cutts & Case wooden boat museum and shop. Charlie Cobra would have been right at home. I saw "Foto", apparently it was one of the first boats used to photograph yacht racing in the US, when yacht racing (as we know it, I guess) was just getting started.





















