Sweltering

We left Hampton Friday morning at 7:25.  It was already very hot.  There were numerous bridges ahead of us and a busy port to negotiate.  We had a fairly long day planned to get to Coinjock.

Getting through the Norfolk area proved interesting.  Work is being done on an underwater pipe system of some sort.  The entire channel from Hampton Roads to Portsmouth had areas blocked off where they were working on this system.  Some sections restricted the channel so much that if you met an oncoming barge or naval ship, you would have to wait until they passed before transiting yourself.  So we didn't think about the heat too much until we got out of the Norfolk area.

It began to really heat up after about 20 miles.  There was hardly any breeze blowing.  The occasional puff of 3-5 knots felt pretty good when sweat was pouring off of you, but really didn't do much in the scheme of things.  When we got to Great Bridge Lock and had to step out from under the bimini to tie up, the sun was scorching.  We were all dreaming of ways to stay cool.

So what do you do when the weather gods bless you with record setting heat?  Well, if you have air conditioning and enough power to run it, that is one solution. We have in the past, brought our generator out to run the AC while we were underway.  This allowed us to pop into the salon to cool off for a while before heading back out to the helm to watch for whatever might be ahead ready to obstruct our course.   Unfortunately, our air conditioner gave up the struggle with an agonizing mechanical scream Thursday evening.  Add a new compressor to the list of boat projects.

Callie has her own methods for cooling off

Second in line for cooling off are fans.  We have several scattered throughout the boat and they are very helpful if you are standing directly in front of one, or at night if the air flow is directed across your naked body as it tries to cool off enough to fall asleep.  We also have wind scoops that are great little inventions placed over an open hatch to catch any wind and direct it into the cabin where you are trying to sleep.  They work if there is a breeze.

Another way to get some relief from the heat is of course shade.  That's what our bimini is for and we all stayed under it as much as we could, only venturing out to sit in the shade produced when the sail was up or to handle some necessary task like tying up in the lock.  Our other cooling maneuver was to get wet by hosing off with the outside shower.  Wearing wet clothes that are drying in the breeze is quite cool.  So are wet bandannas to mop the face, arms, whatever.  We used this method throughout the hottest part of the day.

When we entered Currituck Sound, miraculously the wind picked up to 15-20 and we pulled out the jib to sail the entire length of the sound.  What a treat.  Not only did we get a break from the south wind directly on the nose, but the breeze also served to keep us dry (as in not sweating buckets).  Our attitudes improved measurably.

But the thing that really kept us going, and in the end was the ultimate heat quencher, was the swimming pool at the end of the trip.  Our marina in Coinjock has a swimming pool.  No sooner had we tied up at the dock and mixed a festive beverage, then we were in the pool dropping our body temperatures considerably.  Oh yes.  Life is good.  At least until we head south again today.

Hampton, VA

We are docked here again, waiting for our friend Diana to join us for the trip down the ICW and home.  Although we had planned one more night on the hook for yesterday, after we left Deltaville with no wind and it already feeling HOT at 7:15 in the morning, we decided to continue on to Hampton where we could plug in the power and turn on the air conditioning, avoiding the heat and bugs most likely to be encountered in an anchorage. 

It was a nice trip in spite of the heat.  Caught a small amberjack on our trolling line which turned out to be the excitement for the afternoon, but turned him loose to grow some more.  We saw numerous dolphins, some swimming along with the boat for short periods.  The bay was fairly calm and the 5 knots of breeze at least kept the sweat dried off of us a little.  As we were coming into Hampton Roads, a convoy of military go-fast-boats came screaming out beside us.  http://www.dailypress.com/media/photo/2011-07/63398863.jpg  They were a friendly lot, waving at me as their huge wakes set our boat rocking and rolling precipitously. 

Docking was an interesting event.  We do not put our boat in slips very often, in fact, almost never.  With a beam of 21.5 feet it really doesn't fit in most slips.  So we take a face dock when we go into marinas, which isn't all that often.  Here, though, they have wide slips which are really designed for 2 monohulls, one tied to one side and one to the other.  They let us take the whole thing since it is not too busy right now.

This was the second time we have backed into these slips.  (We don't really want to talk about that first time.)  There is a current in here that wants to move you away from one side or the other, depending on whether the tide is ebbing or flowing.  Our boat, being taller than many, picks up a lot of wind action as well and the wind, as usual, had picked up a little as we motored into the channel.  So we had talked about how best to approach this procedure after the first time and then again as we were about to dock this time.  We thought we had it figured out.  We thought each of us knew our appointed tasks and were confident that we could accomplish them.

It only took us three tries this time to get the boat close enough to the piling I needed to lasso, and when close enough, it only took me 2 flings of the dock line to get it over the (rather tall) piling.  If Tom hadn't jumped off the boat and burned his feet on the blazing hot cement of the dock (and if I had known that was what he was cursing at instead of thinking it was me) and if we had aimed for the down current piling instead of the up current one, things might have been a little smoother.  Maybe.  Let's just say we could use a bit more practice.  We did get tied up successfully and nothing was damaged.  Tom's feet were much better after soaking in a bucket of cold water.  And after the boat cooled down and we had showers and a beer or two, it was all good.

Crab feast

We bought some chicken necks the other day at the store with the intent of catching some crabs.  The Chesapeake, after all, is known for it's crab cakes, steamed crabs, crab chowder, soft shell crabs, etc., etc.  We have been dodging the floats of crab pots since we started on this cruise.  They are everywhere in the water, especially in the shallows, but even in water 25 feet deep.

Since we don't have any crab pots of our own, the other way to catch them is to tie the bait tightly on a cord, lower it to the bottom to sit for a while, and then slowly pull it up, holding a long handled net handy to scoop up the crab that is often hanging on to his prized possession on the end of the cord.  If he's big enough, he's dropped in a bucket of water to await enough of his friends to make a meal.  If too little, he's released to grow a bit more.

We tried this technique a few days ago but only caught 3 which weren't enough, so they got a second lease on life.  In the Little Wicomico River Monday night things were different.  We had a difficult time even finding a space to anchor in there that was free enough of pots to accommodate our boat.  So we decided if the watermen thought they needed that many pots out, crabs must be plentiful in the river.  We set out several lines with the chicken parts on them and within minutes we had caught enough crabs for a delicious dinner that night.

Wish we had enough time to hang out there a while longer and eat some more of this tasty underwater crustacean, but it was time to move on.  Maybe there will be another opportunity soon.  Or maybe we'll have to wait until we get back to Jordan Creek and put out some pots.  Much less work involved that way.

When fortune smiles on you

Sometimes you just have to sit back and thank the powers that be for the fortune in your life.

We have this sturdy, spacious boat that shelters us and allows us to move from one beautiful anchorage to the next beautiful anchorage. And to meet interesting people from diverse walks of lives, doing their thing in the best way they know how in places far different from where we call home. And it allows us to face new challenges with confidence (most of the time!).

And we have each other – a good thing for pretty much the same reasons the boat is good for us. We encourage and support each other in this crazy life we've chosen.

And then there is the occasional turn of events that kind of makes you think “why am I so lucky?”

Today we moved across to the west side of the bay and up the Potomac River a ways to an incredible place called Jutland Creek. Deep water, high, tree lined banks, protection from most weather. Several tidy marinas tucked back in the coves. Excellent holding. It's idyllic. But we were out of drinking water and (gasp!) beer.

Blue Haven Marina - Smith Creek (MD)

So we dropped the dinghy in the water and drove to the closest marina, just across the creek. There we met Chris, a young fellow in charge for the day, by himself. It was a small marina and he mainly had to rent kayaks to a few people who came and went. While we were purchasing a fuel filter and a bottled water from him, and asking about a grocery store, he got a somewhat frantic call from a kayak renter who was stuck on some rocks with a broken paddle. Chris seemed a bit hassled by this turn of events but said we could fill our water container in the restroom, pointed the way to the closest grocery store which he said was about 2 miles away, locked the door and left. So we took off hiking in the direction he said and waved at him when he returned shortly thereafter. We were thinking the disaster must have been quickly averted.

A few minutes later, we were passed by a pickup truck going in our direction. Amazingly enough, he stopped and offered to take us most of the way to the store on his way to deal with the kayak problem. Apparently, Chris had been able to contact him somewhere and delegate that job to him. Lucky us – because the store was a lot further than 2 miles and we would never have figured out all the turns it took to get there. So we walked about ½ mile further after Dan dropped us off, bought our beer and a few other necessities, and headed back down the road.

But the story gets better. As we were headed home, thinking to stick out a thumb for a ride, who should we meet at the turn where he dropped us off, but Dan himself, coming back with the rescued kayakers. Imagine how events had to come together with just the right timing for him to be there just when we were a few yards behind, and then for him to see us in his rear view mirror as he was turning into the road we were on, and then to feel compassionate enough to stop and wait for us to run up and jump in the bed of the truck.

Yes, we are feeling extremely fortunate today. Life is good.

Smith Island, MD

This was the first time we saw the Chesapeake almost totally flat. It was a strange feeling to look out to the horizon and not really be sure where the sky ended and the water began.

The day started out chilly (low 60's) and foggy. We dinghied into Onancock again to run a few errands and stop at the local bakery for a cinnamon bun breakfast. Then we dug the anchor out of the thick, black, smelly mud and motored the 4 miles out the river.

 We turned north toward Smith Island and found the wind on our nose, although it was predicted to be from the southwest. Since the wind was not much of a factor at 3-6 knots, we happily motored on through the calm water. Polished the rest of the lifelines that we started several days ago and waxed part of the cabin top. Read a little and watched for crab pots and large barges being pushed down the bay.

The channel into Ewell was long and circuitous with several areas beginning to shoal in spite of being dredged recently. But we got into town safely, waited while the passenger ferry moved, and backed into the slip at Smith Island Marina, a tiny place run by a friendly couple. There is a great blue heron rookery in front of us across the channel and the birds are keeping Callie interested with their continuous chattering. She now has become so adventurous as to actually jump on the dock here. That is not a good thing so we will have to watch her when she is outside. She has been known to wander off on her own agenda for long periods of time at home. Can't have that while traveling.

We bought some crab cakes “to go” from the restaurant next door because they close at 4:00 after the last ferry leaves and we weren't ready to eat that early. Walked around the little town and purchased fresh corn and a huge cantaloupe from the correspondingly tiny grocery. Dinner, later, was excellent. The best crab cakes we've had so far. Guess it's because we are finally in Maryland, famous for their crabs.

Trip back across the bay is on the agenda tomorrow.

Onancock, Va

Crab operation - Tangier Island

Tangier  Island

We had a near perfect sail across the Bay to Tangier Island on Tuesday.  There we docked at Parks Marina where we were joined by three boats of eagle scouts and their adult chaperones.  They had considerable trouble docking since the current through there during tide changes is 2-3 knots.  We were barely tied up ourselves when Milton Parks, the owner, whisked us away for an island tour on his golf cart.  He is quite the island historian.  Except for the biting black flies and the heat, it was a great tour.  The ice cream run later was delicious but the mosquitoes at dusk were threatening to carry us away, so we changed our mind about a stroll to the beach.

After washing down the boat the next morning and taking on some water, we left to move to Onancock on Virginia's eastern shore.  There was very little wind so we motored the 16 miles in relatively calm seas.  We anchored just inside the Onancock channel for a swim and walk on the beach where we found the shell of an humongous horseshoe crab and had a very refreshing swim.  There were thousands of small dragonflies, or maybe damselflies.  Not sure of the difference.

Onancock Creek

Anyway, we moved on down to the town which was about 4-5 miles further up the channel.  We were directed by the harbormaster to anchor in the cove however we couldn't get the anchor to set and the water was pretty shallow so we moved down river about 1/2 mile and tried again.  Apparently the Delta does not like whatever this bottom is because we couldn't get a solid set here either and we wound up putting on the "hurricane anchor".  Since there were severe thunderstorms predicted we wanted to be sure of the anchor.  We got it set finally about 4:00 and then chilled for a while trying to stay cool.  It was really hot and humid.

Around 7:30 pm some rain started and we saw a little lightening and thunder off to port.  Nothing more than a nice shower though on us and none of the gale force winds supposedly experienced further north.  The NOAA report sounded dreadful so we were really happy to avoid that storm line.  Still, during the night we got up a few times for anchor watch just to be sure.  Everything was fine and today (Thursday) is much cooler and crystal clear.  We've had a little trouble finding open wi-fi so have posted several entries today.  Everything is good and Tom is enjoying his retirement.

Of menhaden, crab cakes, and flies

We left Stutts Creek at 8:15 with a beautiful blue sky and the promise of a 10-15 k breeze. Almost immediately we noticed a slight burnt rubber smell which turned out to be an engine belt that needed adjusting. That taken care of, we headed north with our main sail up and a 5 k southwest whisper of wind. Unfortunately, the most we saw that day was 8 knots until we started in the channel to Reedville, when it picked up to 13. At least it wasn't on our nose. And we saw lots of dolphins along the way.

Reedville at one time was the menhaden processing capital of America. The fish were caught in huge quantities in the Chesapeake and turned into oil, livestock feed, fertilizer, and cosmetics. They now also press the oil for the health food industry as omega-3 fish oil. There is still one operating plant in Reedville and you smell it before you even get close to town. I don't think I could live in this town if I had to smell that all the time.

We motored around a bit looking for a nice little cove to give us some protection from the 20-25 k and possible thunderstorms forecast for the night (and the smell of dead fish). Found a very serene parking place surrounded by homes and good sized trees, odor free. The anchor dug in immediately in 9 feet of water, so after tidying up a bit we headed into “town” for the crab cake lunch we had been dreaming of. Pulled up to the Crazy Crab's dinghy dock and walked in only to find it was closed on Mondays. Drat!

Instead of crab cakes, we walked down the main street of town. Lots of very interesting Victorian homes built with menhaden money. According to our guidebook, it was referred to as “millionaire's row” in the early 1900's. Although it was a pleasant, if very hot historic walk, we found nothing else of interest. One marina that didn't look open. One ice cream store that also wasn't open on Mondays. One other marina that looked like it was mostly working boats. And one seafood market/deli that was across the creek but which we didn't investigate. Many nice homes on the water. Wonder where the present residents work.

So we came back to our boat, checked the weather, swatted some flies, plotted our course for the next day, read, played dominoes, swatted some more flies and still the wind was lighter than expected. Saw some distant lightening and hoped it was going to stay way to the north. As it turned out, the weather remained mild and we slept fairly well with only a few anchor checks during the night. But the flies were thick as we weighed anchor and left in the morning. Will be swatting them for some time to come.

A day at the beach

We made the long trip of 5 miles from Deltaville to Milford Haven Sunday. This is a really pretty bay accessed through a swing bridge at the north end. At the southern end of the bay is a spit of land marking the “Hole in the Wall” entrance from the Chesapeake. There we found a long sandy beach. On this sunny weekend day, the beach was the destination for numerous small boats. The Hole in the Wall seems to be a good channel out but everything we've read warns you need local knowledge to execute it without mishap, so we chose the longer but safer passage in. And while we were here, we saw only small boats using that channel.

We parked Kentris about 300 yds out and took the dinghy in for the afternoon. Hiked the length of the spit looking for treasures from the sea, but found few. There were armies of sand crabs around the grassy areas, a few small blue crabs in some tidal pools, and one very concerned osprey who was deterred from bringing a fish to her babies until we were well away from the nest. We cooled off in the water for a time before heading back.

From there we headed to Stutts Creek off to the south of this beach. Another pretty area with nice homes and well-kept yards. Felt a bit like a lake community. After anchoring, we watched the wake boarders, fishermen coming home, and several different birds in addition to the ubiquitous osprey. Tried to catch a crab with a jury-rigged line but were unsuccessful. Callie explored the deck a great deal more than she ever has on her own in the past. She was quite adventurous. Steak on the grill. Gin rummy after dinner. Quiet evening. No storms!

Calm before the storm

July 9, 2011

Because Tom was working on our refrigerator, we didn't leave Hampton until 11:00. We were then delayed even more by the exit out of Norfolk by a naval warship/aircraft carrier. Announcements over the radio warned everyone to stay 500 yds clear of it or risk the use of deadly force. Coast Guard and gunboats were all over Hampton Roads. Kentris idled off to the side a while and then crept up the north side of the channel praying we would not be shot on sight. (We were pretty sure we were more than 500 yds away and even called the Coasties to ask permission. They were unhelpful. “All we can tell you is that you must remain 500 yds away.” So what if you aren't a very good judge of distance?)

Well, we managed to get out of there with our lives and boat intact and turned north. We were actually able to sail for a while, but slower than would allow us to reach our planned destination in a reasonable time. So we decided to check out Horn Harbor on the eastern shore of Virginia. The channel in was a bit of a zigzag, but the creek was very pretty and seemed well protected from weather.  Reminded us of Broad Creek on the Neuse.

Proof that we do actually sail occasionally

After surveying several areas, we chose to anchor just outside the channel in 7' of water in line with another catamaran that was riding on a mooring ball (first clue). The evening was mild, we had a little sprinkling of rain while we prepared dinner and ate in the cockpit. I wasn't entirely happy with the way the anchor set (second clue), but we weren't dragging so decided to go with what we had. Both of us went for a short kayak ride and watched the ospreys perched on the other catamaran. Bet the owner is really happy about them taking up residence on his boat. Off in the distance lightening could be seen as night approached (final clue). It was kind of pretty and seemed to be moving away from us.

And then all hell broke loose. The wind came up out of nowhere and almost immediately we were in peril of docking unintentionally at the boathouse behind us. Fortunately we have a shallow draft boat or we would most certainly have been aground. (At one point we actually considered that being aground might be a reasonable option!) As I went forward to up anchor, the rain started down in torrents. The anchor came up accompanied by thick globs of black mud. We tried several more times to get the anchor to set but all were unsuccessful and we decided our only option was to keep the boat idling in the channel and beside the moored boat both of which were easy to identify as the lightening flashed. This storm can't last much longer, right? An hour and a half later the wind finally died and the lightening moved out to the bay. The rain, however, continued forever it seemed. It did wash a lot of the mud off the boat though. We put out the anchor and about 60' of chain with it, figuring if the wind stayed calm, the weight of all that would hold us even if the anchor didn't set. Napped in the salon so we could respond quickly if another storm blew in. Fortunately the wind did stay calm and all is well. No one was hurt and nothing was damaged. And, by the way, the refrigerator is fixed.

Hampton Public Docks

After we left Coinjock, we sailed pleasantly through the Currituck Sound, and then navigated through the numerous bridges (and one lock) between there and Hampton Roads. We managed to get through all the bridges with minimal wait time which was a first for us, I think. We had to make it to the last bridge by 3:30 or wait until 6:30 when it re-opened to waterway traffic (after rush hour). Got there for the 2:30 opening and congratulated ourselves on probably being able to arrive at our destination by 5:00 or so, a bit earlier than we anticipated.

As we made our way through the busy Norfolk area, we pulled in behind a tug pushing a large barge and surveyed the sky. “Looks like we might be in for some more rain,” I said to Tom as I handed him a cool drink. It had been overcast and sprinkling off and on most of the day. So we closed hatches and put various belongings that needed to stay dry inside, and watched the tug who was joined by a second one. The sky got darker and darker and then a bolt of lightening hit close to our east, sending Callie scurrying to her hidey hole and me unplugging the computer to save it at least if we got hit. The rain started down in torrents and we were really happy to have that barge in front of us because it was easy to see when nothing else was visible. Of course we kept an eye on the electronic chart as well. and turned on our navigation lights, hoping we could be seen by others. This is a very busy waterway.

And then the tugs stopped, or nearly so. Just right in the channel. Sat there. Drifting slowly. And so did we. The only other option was to pull out of the channel and anchor for a while. We decided those tugboat captains had radar on board and if they weren't going any further, then neither were we. It seemed like forever that the rain, wind and thunder (though not so much lightening) continued. Finally, the sky started to lighten up a bit and the barge started moving out the channel with us in hot pursuit.

The trip across Hampton Roads was uneventful, if a bit choppy. We made our way to Hampton Public Docks and looked over the docks available. After a few tries at backing into a double slip and lassoing a piling with a swift current flowing past the slip, we got tied up with the help of a couple on a neighboring boat. They were glad we had made it safely through the storm which had come through the marina as well. Shortly after securing lines and mixing a “festive” beverage, another storm came through which was as much of a doozy as the earlier one. Glad we weren't on the water for that one.

Cat on board

In our travels about we have seen many cruisers with a dog, or even multiple dogs, on their boat. They are especially noticeable riding in dinghys, anxiously anticipating their on shore potty breaks. We have also met a number of cruisers who have tried various arrangements on their boats so their canine companions will relieve themselves aboard and not require the trip to shore. Some of these methods are more successful than others. Another issue to consider is exercise because dogs, unless they are elderly (maybe), need to get out daily and run off some energy. Cats are so much easier.

But the feline variety of pet is rarely seen or mentioned. I wonder since cats don't need to go ashore for the above mentioned reasons, if they are just not so visible as dogs. And maybe there are fewer cat lovers than dog lovers. (That's just a guess and probably wrong.) I think there might be a general assumption that cats are not necessarily happy sailors, but that could be an inaccurate assumption.

People are often surprised that our cat, Callie, is a boat kitty. She has now been on several trips with us and, generally speaking, has been quite relaxed about the whole thing. She does not like the world outside the salon very much and will only venture out on the deck when things are calm and quiet. The watery world must seem very strange to a 12 year old, land based cat. All new smells, sights and sounds. But she spends most of her life sleeping when at home, and things are not much different here on the boat. She lays around in various places on the boat, getting up to eat, drink or use her cat box (how convenient!). Occasionally, if we are out in the cockpit, she will come out to join us – briefly. It's not her favorite place. Just as well in my opinion because I don't want her to decide to jump on a dock somewhere and head for what she considers to be safer ground.

Recently she did have a pretty traumatic time however. It was the 4^th of July and that means fireworks. Loud, bright fireworks. She was totally freaked as soon as the first round went off and found a hiding place in a dark, cramped corner of the boat. We couldn't find her at first she was hidden so well. Eventually we did, but she stayed there even after we tried to talk her out with the usual kind words and caresses. I felt bad for her but there was nothing to be done about it but to let her take her time recovering. Unfortunately, that evening was followed the next day by several hours of a rough sail. Not really what she needed to relax. She found a new hiding place and stayed there most of the day.

All that is past now and she is once again back to her lazy ways. Until the next clap of thunder or choppy sea.

Coinjock Marina

Manteo

Fireworks last night were spectacular.  We had front row seats while sitting on the back of our boat. Lots of boats in the bay and people lined up on the boardwalk.  We've decided Manteo is really a great little town, definitely worth visiting again.  We had a very calm night for a change.  The wind that had been blowing constantly since we got here finally dropped to less than 10 knots and the water calmed down enough for uninterrupted sleep (no anchor checks).

We pulled up the hook around 6:30 and headed to a marina south of town for some fuel.  Having accomplished that, we headed across the Albemarle with the wind once again on our nose.  It did eventually move around enough for us to pull the jib out and motor sail.  Pretty rowdy crossing though.  Difficult to spot and avoid all the crab pots with the sea all chopped up.  How do people do this at night?  Hope for the best, I guess.

By the time we turned into the North River the wind was down and the river was flat.  And hot.  Saw some dolphin and spotted another eagle just before pulling into Coinjock Marina at 2:00.  The shift of wind direction has made things less smokey here.  Hope we have left that behind for good.

Tom is currently working on why the air conditioner is making strange sounds and how to install our new, more powerful alternator. Tomorrow we head to Hampton Roads.

Wind, or the absence thereof

Left Jordan Creek at 10:30. Motored all day Saturday with the wind mostly on our nose, but at least it kept us cool. Except for meeting s/v Double Vision when entering the "ditch" and seeing an eagle flying close by, not much happened. We had the anchor down around 5:45 in Rattlesnake Bay (Alligator R) tucked in out of the wind and chop. Swam, cleaned the props, did a few boat projects. Nice evening and pretty sunset. No rattlesnakes spotted!

Off the hook at 7:10 Sunday with visibility greatly diminished by smoke in the air. Motorsailed most of the day. The wind dropped to zero about midday and things heated up when the sun finally made it through the haze. It never ceases to amaze me that wind can easily goes from nothing to 18-22K just as you turn into an unfamiliar and/or crowded channel or anchorage.  Nevertheless, we had the anchor safely down in Manteo (who knew there was any anchor room here?) by 1:15. A little closely packed for my taste, but we're told the holding is good and the boat behind us seemed comfortable with our position.  Always reassuring.

We decided to sleep on the trampoline last night, as it was kind of stuffy in the cabin.  The wind was pleasant out there and we drifted off quite comfortably.  About 2:30 am things got a little more rowdy as the wind was gusting, things were clanking and slapping, and the anchor lines were creaking under the strain.  Then we felt the rain drops begin and decided to move inside.  Got the hatches closed just in time.  But it was true that the holding is good here, as we were right where we should have been in the morning.