Elizabeth City: 1st Friday Art Walk – TOMORROW
Elizabeth City sits at the southern terminus of the Dismal Swamp Canal and has the well-earned reputation of being a transient-friendly town with free dockage for 72 hours.
Elizabeth City sits at the southern terminus of the Dismal Swamp Canal and has the well-earned reputation of being a transient-friendly town with free dockage for 72 hours.
A longtime CRUISERS NET SPONSOR, historic Edenton always has an exciting calendar of events and places to visit! Edenton is at the mouth of the Chowan River on the northwest shore of Albemarle Sound.
Click Here To Open A Chart View Window Zoomed To the Location of Edenton Harbor City Docks
Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with saltwater in their veins will subscribe. $7 per month or $56 for the year; you may cancel at any time.![]()
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When all else fails, try journalism. World’s Worst Homing Pigeon Flies From Japan, Cruises Bahamas on Classic Yacht.Meet Herman, Living Aboard ‘Steadfast’This story was originally published in March 2023. Writer-chef Janice Anne Wheeler now has her own nautical Substack newsletter called Sparring With Mother Nature. Here’s how she told the story. Once upon a time there was a pigeon named Herman. He was a homing pigeon, the property of a pigeon racing enthusiast in Japan. Alas, Herman may well be the worst homing pigeon in the world. Instead of navigating to a coop in some city with a name like Ibaraki or Kasuga, Herman somehow ended his last race in the Bahamas. He is now cruising aboard a classic sailboat with writer-chef Janice Anne Wheeler and Annapolis surveyor Steven Uhthoff. Wheeler, who gave Herman the Homing Pigeon his name, said she wants to write an “children’s story (and for adults)” about their visitor, who just popped in unannounced earlier this month. Herman landed in the pilothouse at 4 p.m. on March 10 as they lay at anchor in the Bight of Acklins aboard Steadfast, a 1934 William Hand ketch. “He drank water but ate nothing I tried. Just sat on the deck and pooped some crazy colors. We figure he ate something bad. We had a plan to sail at 5 a.m. the following morning. Not an easy 37-hour passage to Governor’s Harbour Eleuthera, and he just hung in. We gave him the storage bin that you see, and he tucks in sometimes,” Wheeler said. “Otherwise, he’s very observant, alert, entertaining and seems to listen to everything that we say. However, he is wary and won’t let us approach closer than a foot or so.” It happens that from time-to-time errant Japanese pigeons make their way to foreign lands, and a leg band like Herman’s (“Japan 2020 123235”) tips off the locals to his or her origins. The finders often try to contact the pigeon’s owners, and like Wheeler, they tend to get nowhere. Some Canadians who found a pigeon from Japan in 2013 did actually manage to contact the owner, who was happy his guy had survived but didn’t want him back. Pigeon fanciers, as they are sometimes called, are a bigger subculture than you might imagine—probably a lot bigger than the cruising community. For evidence of that, you need go no further than Florida (where this is being written). Over on the Gulf Coast, the adjacent towns of Spring Hill and Brooksville constitute a retirement Mecca for pigeon enthusiasts, who are attracted from all over North America by the two towns’ “pigeon friendly zoning.” For a reality check from pigeon world, Loose Cannon got John Stephen on the phone, vice-president of the Gulf Coast Homing Club and owner of 18 birds. Though Wheeler wished it were so, Stephen quashed the notion that a pigeon has the tankage and range for trans-oceanic flight. Stephen said a pigeon can only fly for about 700 miles at a time. The great-circle route (as the crow flies) from Japan to the Bahamas is about 6,600 nautical miles, on a path similar to that of the recent Chinese spy balloon. Homing pigeons have impressive navigational skills, including an ability to use the Earth’s magnetic field for direction. Some are better at it than others, however. According to Stephen, pigeons are loath to fly over water. Sometimes, they get disoriented and, for example, fly out of a low cloud bank only to realize they are over the ocean. “What happens is these birds hitch a ride on a freighter, and when they get near land or another freighter, they jump ship, especially if they were not getting fed,” he said. If you have to hitch a ride on a ship, Japan is not the worst place to begin your journey—lots of choice. Post-Covid freighter arrivals to the East Coast of the U.S. from Japan are up to about 30 a month. That is one possible explanation for how a pigeon from Nippon got to Acklins Island. Now, Steadfast is cruising the Abacos, and her crew is wondering what to do with Herman. Refueled, he’s again fit to fly. “Herman’s diet is of course rice…but we have introduced him to Quaker oatmeal, and he’s a fan, Wheeler said. So far, though, Herman has shown no inclination to go. Naturally, the humans won’t just evict him, despite his messy habits. The bird is “some sort of sign or spirit or symbol that chose us,” Wheeler said. No problem, Stephen said: Bring Herman to Spring Hill, and we’ll find a home for him. He said similar arrangements can be made through other Florida pigeon clubs or any other club in the country. Wheeler has learned of a pigeon club in the Daytona Beach area, a place reachable by boat. “Or maybe we’ll get to Ponce Inlet, and he’ll hear other pigeons and just fly off,” she said. Update (A Few Days Later)And that is exactly what happened a couple days after Janice Wheeler said that, except they were still in the Bahamas. “Herman took wing yesterday (March 30) here in Marsh Harbour and has not returned…We left his box back there for now,” she said. According to the Avibase, a world bird database, the Marsh Harbour area is home to two species of pigeon, one of which is Herman’s. He’s a rock pigeon, or what we call a “pigeon.” Rock pigeons are not native to the Bahamas. There are also six species of dove. LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Sometimes he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid. This newsroom runs on tequila. Please support the distiller that supports Loose Cannon.
For free shipping, use the promo code LCFREESHIP (which saves you $19.95).
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Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with saltwater in their veins will subscribe. $7 per month or $56 for the year; you may cancel at any time.![]()
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When all else fails, try journalism. World Voyager Dies When His Hand Is Caught in an Electric WinchFaulty Mechanism Kept Running; No One Cut the LineA world voyager died when his hand got caught in a line as it turned around an electric winch, pinning him onto the winch assembly and “causing severe injuries to his arm and hand, trauma to his head and chest,” according to British marine investigators. The Marine Accident Investigation Board (MAIB) said Lyall Babington, 74, caught his hand in the line and was “progressively pulled tighter onto the winch drum.” Investigators blamed a defective control switch, which sometimes caused the knee-operated winch to continue to operate even the operator had stopped pressing the button. The accident happened on August 5 off the Isle of Wight on the south coast of England. Babington had set off from his native New Zealand three years earlier aboard Mollie, a 56-foot steel motorsailer. Electric winches can be a godsend for older sailors, particularly if sailing shorthanded. According to the November 27 investigation report, Babington was undertaking a circumnavigation using volunteer crew, which paid him for expenses, for varying amounts of time. At the time of the accident there were three on board, two that had just arrived and another who had been with Babington for five months. Here how MAIB set the scene for the accident:
Investigators said that when Babbington was caught in the tightening line, the crew pressed the control button trying to break the circuit. After several tries, the winch did stop, but by then Babbington was unconscious, and the crew radioed a Mayday. The call went out shortly after noon. The response was pretty quick:
Investigators concluded that the only way to disable the electric winches was via a battery switch in the boat’s forward cabin. They noted that the system was not one of the name brands on the market and speculated that the winch had likely been installed by “a small boatyard.” The report did not address the question of why the crew never thought to just cut the line or was not able to do so. LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Sometimes he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid. You’re currently a free subscriber to LOOSE CANNON. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription. © 2025 |
Elizabeth City sits at the southern terminus of the Dismal Swamp Canal and has the well-earned reputation of being a transient-friendly town with free dockage for 72 hours.
A longtime CRUISERS NET SPONSOR, historic Edenton always has an exciting calendar of events and places to visit! Edenton is at the mouth of the Chowan River on the northwest shore of Albemarle Sound.
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Click Here To Open A Chart View Window Zoomed To the Location of Edenton Harbor City Docks
Harbour Town Yacht Basin, A CRUISERS NET SPONSOR, is ready for your reservation with newly renovated docks, upgraded electrical service and onSpot WiFi, also a CRUISERS NET SPONSOR. And, as always, numerous activities at the Sea Pines Resort are offered for your enjoyment, as you will see in the Event Schedule below. Hilton Head Island is absolutely marvelous any time of year.
Kerry Maveus
kmaveus@hunter-pr.com | www.hunter-pr.com
mobile: 831-917-2878
P.O. Box 1049 | Pebble Beach, CA | 93953
Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with saltwater in their veins will subscribe. $7 per month or $56 for the year; you may cancel at any time.![]()
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When all else fails, try journalism.
If you’ve ever fallen off a moving boat, grabbed a stray line and managed to clamber back on board, then your spirit-Pilgrim—and mine—is a man named John Howland.
In 1620, Howland was a passenger on the Mayflower bound for New England carrying a band of religious “Separatists.” These are the kinds of folks who would say things like, “cleanliness is next to godliness” but found they were unable to practice what they preached while voyaging on 17th century ship.
Below decks, the Mayflower was foul from the stench of 102 human bodies, especially when everyone huddled inside during a fierce storm. Howland decided it would be a good idea to go on deck for some fresh air, and found himself tossed into the raging North Atlantic ocean on a leeward roll of the ship a’hull.
Somehow in the turmoil, Howland saw before him a line being dragged through the water and snatched it. It was said to have been an unsecured topsail halyard. From experience I can say that Howland’s world would have entered a stage akin to a movie in slow motion. Once the men on deck realized what had happened they dragged him back and over the gunwale like a prize fish.
A year later, this guy had a little more to be thankful for than the others when Pilgrims sat down for that initial feast with the Wampanoags. He had survived the North Atlantic and, unlike some of his Plimouth neighbors, their first New England winter. “Divine providence” is how Pilgrims would describe it. Nowadays, we might call it luck.
Howland began life in America as an indentured servant but went on to hold important positions in government and commerce until his death at age 80. Along the way, he married Elizabeth Tilley and took that “Pilgrim Father” title very seriously, as he sired 10 children, who then produced 88 grandchildren. There are an estimated two million Howland descendants living in the U.S. today.
And that isn’t even the astonishing part. Here’s a list of some of them:
George Bush, Franklin Roosevelt and Sarah Palin—who says the universe doesn’t have a sense of humor?
My own story was never as dire. It happened in the days when I sailed out of Newburyport, Massachusetts, from a river only locals can love. The Merrimack River tidal current rips through at 2-3 knots in either direction.
My first sailboat with accomodations was a 28-foot wooden sloop that “sailed like a witch” with a cocky skipper at the helm. This is the story about how I fell off the Meerschaum as she rocked along at hull speed, then managed to get back aboard in just seconds.
Like John Howland, my superpower was luck.
Meerschaum’s freeboard averaged about 20 inches, so she was a wet ride. And she had no lifelines. Three-foot chop had covered everything in spray that day. Everything was soaked as we drove her up between the jetties.
I cut the No. 7 can as we hardened up to make a west-southwest heading, hoping to clear the shallows behind No. 8 nun without tacking. My inexperienced crew took the tiller while I set about cranking in the jib. We were sailing close to the shallows of Plum Island to port.
Atypically, I wasn’t wearing my deck shoes—barefoot, I was.
It happened in a wink. I slipped and launched head-first into the river. I remember my exact thought at the moment of immersion: Boy, you sure (fouled) up this time!
Then, I kid you not, everything slowed down like a Sam Peckinpah action sequence. As my body oh-so-slowwwly rolled underwater, and I faced upward, I saw something moving above me at the surface. Yep, slowwwly.
It was a line. I reached up and snatched the bitter end.
Having only gone out for the day, we left the dinghy tethered to the mooring ball. The dinghy tow rope had been coiled on the fantail but was swept overboard during our lively sail. Neither of us had noticed that we were towing a warp. (Memo to non-New Englanders: Pronounced “waup.”)
Line in hand, my head broke the surface. I found myself returned to Earth’s time-space continuum. My hapless crew, still at the tiller, was looking back at me. Meerschaum’s weather helm was rounding her up toward the sandbar. “Pull it toward you,” I hollered. He drew the tiller to his chest. Meerschaum accelerated, me in tow.
Time sped up. I swear I was back on that boat in five seconds. Like Howland, I was in my 20s and fit.
This was in August, and we didn’t wait for Thanksgiving to celebrate. That was a day for Myers rum and grapefruit juice at Michael’s Harborside.
LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Sometimes he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid.
For free shipping, use the promo code LCFREESHIP (which saves you $19.95).
You’re currently a free subscriber to LOOSE CANNON. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
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