August 26. Scout had their anchor up and was underway while we sat for a while at anchor. We had less than 20 miles to do today so we were in no hurry to get moving. We also had free internet that we were able to “borrow” here so we were taking advantage of the opportunity.

Once underway we raised the sails and headed out towards the Connecticut side of the Sound. Our planned stop for the night was Port Washington in Manhasset Bay, N.Y. I was hoping to make a long run across the sound, tack once and sail right to the mouth of the bay.

Yeah, no. We were moving along at a relaxed pace with about 10 knots of breeze. Shortly after tacking the breeze slowly died out and left us to motor the last 10 miles of our day.

Port Washington was our destination because the guide books tell a tale of free town owned moorings for visitors. The town looked cool in the guide as well as having a West Marine and a real full sized supermarket. Oh my.

You are allowed to pick up a mooring for 2 nights for free. So it was nice to see that the guide book was right as that’s not always the case. We were moored next to a cutter rigged ketch that’s got to be over a hundred feet long. It didn’t look that big until I saw it next to Veranda from the dinghy. Our boat looked like a toy next to her.

On the morning of the 27th after the pooping of the dogs we went into town in the dinghy. We walked to West Marine and stopped at the Stop & Shop on the way back to the boat. After taking our provisions back to the boat Christy and I went back into town for an early dinner ashore.

We chose Louie’s, a waterside restaurant. It was a very eclectic crowd with people in business suits, groups of women out for lunch with the girls and me wearing my “homeless sailor chic”. We were given a great table at the edge of the outside deck over looking the anchorage.

Something that I’ve noticed lately is the fact that in an area with a big tidal surge, that at low tide there’s a lot more stink exposed. If the tides only a foot or two there’s not much of a noticeable smell at low tide. Here there’s an 8 foot tide and at low tide there’s practically another zip code exposed. We’re talking about extra acre’s of stinky bottom exposed, just an observation. Consult your tide charts before making reservations at any fancy waterside eatery.

Something else that I’ve noticed that’s a lot more troubling that the smell of low tide is the general attitude of people as we get closer to the city. People seem to be less considerate and down right nasty as we move further west. The VHF is full of immature assholes using the radio to talk as much crap as they can. It’s not uncommon to hear racist “jokes” tearing apart every ethnic group. We’ve listened to the VHF all up and down the east coast and this is really the only area so full of venom and negativity. There might be a rude comment once in a while, but here its common place.

We’ve met some wonderful people up this way and spent some time in beautiful anchorages but we’re really wondering if there’s another trip this far north in our future.

August 25. The day started out wet and dreary, yet again. The early fog was pretty heavy when we got up and we hadn’t planned to leave until around noon so the fog had a chance to start to burn off.

We sailed for the first 2 hours and then were forced to motor for a couple of hours. Just as we reached the north shore of Long Island the wind picked up. We were traveling separately from Scout but ended up arriving at the green # 1 at the same time.

This led to a really fun tacking duel as we headed into Oyster Bay. This only lasted for about 20 minutes as fate, in the form of a Catalina 350 interrupted our good time. We were both side by side on port tack doing better than 5 knots. There was a Catalina 350 about 50 yards ahead running the same course off our starboard bow. The Catalina tacked and was now running across our bow. It was all going to work out alright as we were going to cut across his stern as he passed across in front of us. He was moving slowly coming out of his tack but we could bear off the wind and actually gain some speed and then resume our course as we passed behind him. That was until he decided to tack again, directly in our path, on our course, right in front of us. We’re flying and he’s dying.

He was barely moving, we couldn’t bear off the wind because on top of everything else they butchered the tack and fell off the wind. So now they’re pretty much sideways in front of us. We couldn’t tack because Scout was there in our hip pocket and there wasn’t enough time anyway. We couldn’t go to starboard because the Catalina was headed that way even though he was not really moving. We couldn’t go to port because that’s where the wind was coming from, but we had to. Christy put the wheel hard over and we backwinded the genoa and come to a practical standstill. As were flying past the Catalina I give him the big “Are you f***ing kidding me?” All the people in cockpit jumped and turned around. It was as if they had never even seen us. Imagine your surprise if you were to get a 13 ton enema and didn’t even see it coming.

By the time we got it back together, Scout was well ahead and we followed her into the anchorage. After dropping the hook, walking the dogs and taking a short swim Christy and I headed over to dinner on Scout.

Again it was a great evening. Nanette had even brought us some tomatoes fresh from her garden. They’re huge, they look like pumpkins and they’re even orange when they’re ripe. They look a little odd but they’re very good.

Boat Name of the Day: No place, other than New York, would I expect the Master Baiter. We heard him on the radio for hours. Whatever happened to naming your boat after your mom, or maybe he did.

August 24. We were invited to visit some people that we’ve met on an internet sailing board. I think I might be turning into Jim. Nanette and her boyfriend Brian had arranged a transient dock for us, for the night, at the yacht club they belong to.

We left Port Jefferson for the 20 mile trip across the Sound to Fairfield Connecticut. We also knew that our friends on the Donna-Lynn and Tia Rain would be transiting the Sound today. I knew where they were leaving from and where they were headed so we timed it to run into them. It worked perfectly, we saw them and altered course only a few degrees and were on top off them before they even realized that it was us. We pulled along side for a few hundred yards, had some small talk and were off on our respective courses again in 5 minutes.

The dock was actually an 8 foot by 100 foot floating dock that was held in place out in the middle of the river by several large mooring anchors. It was unlike anything we’ve seen as of yet. The whole thing only took up the space that would have held 2 moorings but instead, as a dock, it had space for 6 good sized boats.

Nanette and Brian came out to the boat and visited for a while before we all headed into town to eat at a really good Italian place. Afterwards we stopped in for a nightcap at their yacht club. It was a really good time and we planned to meet tomorrow over in Oyster Bay. Since the weekend was upon us they would be able to sail their Pearson 38 foot yawl, Scout, over and spend the night.

It was late by the time we turned in and we slept like the dead.

August 23. It was a crappy night for sleeping. We were lying to the tidal flow with a moderate breeze coming straight at the stern. That drives little wavelets up under the overhang and makes for a noisy, restless night.

This morning we did discover that the anchor windlass is somehow connected to the wind switch. Because as soon as we pulled the anchor this morning the breeze that had been tormenting me all night just magically stopped. It just can’t be coincidence.

So we headed off diagonally across Long Island Sound bound for Port Jefferson. After about 2 hours of motoring the wind had built to about 6 knots. I’ve been spoiled by the last 2 days of great sailing so I was going to will it to happen again. I pulled out the entire genoa and shut off the engine. The wind stayed between 4 and 8 knots but luckily we were also riding the flood tide for about a knot. Christy looked at me, rolled her eyes and went back to her book as we ghosted across the Sound at close to 4 knots.

While we were motoring our ETA for Port Jefferson was about 1330 hours. As the day went by I watched that balloon to 1730 hours. After 4 hours of drifting, err, sailing along I restarted the engine and ended up dropping the hook in Port Jeff at 1500 hours. It was slow as hell but it wasn’t really that bad a day and we thought we might have seen the sun. We were not really sure, it coulda been, from what we remember of it.

We read about a place in town that serves great seafood, cheap. So we hopped in the dinghy and went in search of the “Seafood Grail” First we had to land and tie up the dinghy. The guidebook says the Danford Marina will let you tie up at their dock while you go into town. We find it, tie up and a guy at the counter says “that’ll be 7 bucks”. I pay the 7 and secretly plan to have one less beer with dinner and skimp on the tip.

Well, the jokes on me. There is no waitress as its self serve. Think about a Burger King that only serves seafood, with no English spoken behind the counter, more flying insects than you could kill and toss in some filth. Bon Appetite. Actually, we both had Grouper sandwiches and they were really good it’s just that the place had the atmosphere of the cafeteria at Riker’s Island. It’s really hard to screw up outside, waterfront dining but they managed to do so.

Then Christy and I went for a little walk around town and ended up at the dock master’s office. We went inside to ask if there was a town dock where we could tie up our dinghy for free. The girl behind the counter could not comprehend what a dinghy was. I’m explaining “ya know, the little boat you take from the big boat to the dock”. I mean for Christ’s sake, she works on the waterfront, at the dockmasters office and she is unfamiliar with the term “dinghy”. I asked her a few times all the while getting the “deer in the headlights” look. Finally she blurts out “I don’t know what that word means”. No wonder the Son of Sam killed New Yorkers. I started getting a little twitchy……

August 22. We had to wait for a rising tide in order to get back out the channel at the Watch Hill anchorage. Low tide was scheduled for 0930 so we waited until 1130 to hoist anchor and get underway. The trip out the channel went well with no surprises.

The sky was overcast but not raining and there was a decent bit of breeze from the east. Today was another day completely under sail alone. It was a much nicer day than yesterday. The sea state was less rolly as we were behind Fischer’s Island for the first few hours and the breeze was a more comfortable 10 to 15 knots.

We had the main up with just a slice of jib out as well. I can’t roll out the entire jib at this point of sail as the main blankets it and the jib collapses for lack of airflow. The wind was directly over the stern so it was easier to just lay the main out and tie a preventer. We were still moving along nicely at about 6 knots.

Our anchorage for the night is Duck Island; even with the late start it’s been a pleasant 35 mile day. This is the place we broke down on our way east. We could use some water so we pull into the fuel dock and get 20 gallons of diesel and over a hundred gallons of water. Then it’s back out into the anchorage to drop the hook for the night.

As Christy was preparing dinner, some sailboats come out of the river and started to mill about. There’s a huge racing program here in Westbrook Ct. with a different class every night of the week. We’ve been here before and watched the 15 and 16 foot boats racing. It’s a lot of fun to watch and better yet, tonight is PHRF racing. That means there are larger boats of many different styles racing against each other. There were 26 boats tonight so it should be great. Wait, it gets better……..

The committee boat comes and puts the windward mark just 150 feet off our stern. So we were right on top of the action as boats fought each other for position, rounded the mark and let their spinnakers fly. You couldn’t get better dinner time entertainment. We took about 90 pictures of people we didn’t know, lol. They sailed right up until dark, it was great.

August 21. We were up and underway at 1000 hours. Cuttyhunk is only 4 or 5 hours away so there was no hurry to get going.

After hoisting the anchor we left the anchorage via the north side of Dutch Island. After rounding Dutch Island we turned south and headed back down Narragansett Bay. There was 15 to 20 knots of wind coming from the east so it made for a very spirited sail down the bay.

At the south end of the bay we had to turn east and as we did so we were faced with the prospect of 20 knots of wind dead on the nose. We sailed, south southeast, which was as close to the wind as we could get. The wind was pushing big slow rolling waves at us. Veranda handled the big seas just fine and after heading offshore a couple of miles we tacked back to the north east. Our first tack was going to put us just past Newport which meant a long uncomfortable day of tacking across big seas over and over again to get east to Cuttyhunk.

Christy and I had a quick conference and reminded ourselves that we’re supposed to be having fun. If we kept going east it meant taking an ass kicking all day, its been cold as hell here and it’s only going to get worse as we proceed and oh yeah it was raining. So we decided that Connecticut was nice, Rhode Island was beautiful and to hell with Massachusetts, we turned around.

The wind is supposed to blow hard from the east for the next couple of days so why shouldn’t we turn around and ride it for all its worth. There’s plenty to stop and see in Long Island Sound and if we get back to Jersey a few days early, so what.

As soon as we turned around we were faced with picking a spot to stop for the night. We passed on the Harbor of Refuge at Point Judith as it’s fairly close and we were flying along. We finally decided on the anchorage at Watch Hill where we stopped once before. It’s protected, we’re familiar with it and it’s got some limited Wifi and dog walking is easy enough.

So we end up doing a 40 mile day all under sail. We had a big following sea and were between 7.5 and 9 knots all day. We even saw 10 knots several times and even an 11 as we surfed down the waves. It was the best day of pure sailing we’ve seen in a year.

August 20. We’re here in Dutch Harbor, RI. It’s a little nook on the west side of Conanicut Island in Narragansett Bay. There’s a small marina with a mooring field and we’re anchored just to the north of the field.

The trip over from Block Island was a short trip of a couple of hours of motor sailing in very light wind. We were supposed to get here a day earlier but we needed an extra night to rest after our “big” night in Block.

The shoreline here is different from what we’ve seen so far on our trip. The shore is strewn with rocks and boulders. Its kinda creepy thinking that there might be more lurking just below the surface waiting to ruin your day. It does make for beautiful scenery though. On our way up the bay there was a rock marked on the charts that we were keeping a sharp lookout for. When we finally saw Whale Rock it turned out to be bigger than the boat, so it’s unlikely that we would have missed that one.

A twenty minute walk up and over the island takes you to the east side of the island with a view of Newport on the far shore. As you reach the peak of the island you come to both the grocery store and the liquor store. At least carrying all the provisions back to the boat is a downhill affair.

We spent the evening on an internet friend’s boat. We had never met Scott & Julie but had followed their adventures as they refurbished their classic 40 foot sailboat. I wrote them to ask advice on anchorages since these are their home waters. When we got here we were invited over to their boat to join a gathering of their family and friends. We hit it off very well and enjoyed the evening immensely. After a few hours we went back to the Veranda armed with advice and local knowledge about the surrounding waters.

A quick word about the weather, COLD. We can’t get over the low temperatures we’ve been encountering as of late. People here say this is very cool for this time of year. Yeah, that’s nice but it doesn’t change anything, its fricken cold. We thought we’d head north until the end of August but if this keeps up we’ll be turning this baby around in 2 or 3 more days.

Tomorrow we’re off to Cuttyhunk or Hadley Harbor near Woods Hole, Mass. Depending on how well the day goes. After we see both of those places we’d like to get to Martha’s Vineyard. If the weather warms up we’ll probably make Nantucket as well and if not, than nope we won’t.

August 18. Last evening was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Just before sundown a guy came in, threw his anchor and about 60 feet of rode over the side. The water is over 25 feet deep here so he’s barely sitting at a scope of 2 to 1, totally unacceptable. At that moment there’s virtually no breeze so the boat’s just floating there with the anchor just sitting on the bottom. There are rain clouds on the horizon, which means probable wind, he didn’t set the hook and he and his party get right in the dinghy and head into shore.

Christy is somewhat of a body English expert and she’s sure that the woman and this guy are on her first “boat” date. Also on board is the woman’s 12 year old daughter. The girl, who is wearing a huge PFD starts to cry uncontrollably when its time to get into the dinghy. She was blubbering like an infant with a wet diaper. The guys been running around trying to save the “date” and off they go into town for hopefully better times. Just after they leave a light rain starts to fall, we look over and see that the companion way is open, as are all the ports and hatches. I figured they’ll be more tears later.

The rain only lasted for a few hours and we turned in at 2300 hours. There was not a hint of breeze or a ripple on the surface of the water. Thirty minutes later we’re both awakened by the most blood curdling screams anyone’s ever heard. Think of the most powerful screaming you’ve ever heard in a horror movie. This woman screamed non-stop for more than ten minutes, Lance Armstrong would have envied this woman’s lung capacity; it was horrible to listen too. We couldn’t tell how far away it was nor could we really determine the direction.

Christy called the harbor master and then we listened to the VHF, nobody seemed to know anything. It sounded like it could be coming all the way from Champlin’s Marina close to a half mile away, we just couldn’t be sure. We tried to rationalize what the problem possibly could have been. I figured if her child had drowned she’d be screaming for help or something like why, why? If her husband had had a heart attack she’d be screaming for help. If she was being attacked she would have screamed for help or her attacker would have shut her up. I envisioned a nasty fall with a horribly broken leg or something. It was a very helpless feeling and she never said a word, just wailed and it finally faded into sobs and then quiet.

The evening was not over yet, not even close. We get back to sleep and at 0100 hours the wind generator comes to life and starts to spin like crazy. I jumped up and threw on shorts and hoody and was on deck in less than 60 seconds.

I was a little disoriented as I was sound asleep only a moment ago and its pitch black. The wind has come in shrieking from the north. The “boat daters” and their boat are already gone, blown off into the crowded anchorage. There were a half dozen boats up ahead of us in the dark. I got complacent about my own rule of being the most northern boat in any anchorage. This place is a small pond in the center of an island, I figured how bad could it get, I got careless and now it might cost us.

Less than a minute after getting on deck one of the small sailboats ahead of us fly’s down our starboard side dragging their anchor as the couple on board fight to gain control of the situation. They’re close enough that I can see their faces yet they’re to busy to see me and then they’re gone, blown off into the dark void behind us.

I call for Christy to dress and get on deck, its time for teamwork. Christy said she knew it had to be something serious because I usually tell her to go back to sleep, that I’ll take care of it. Christy started the engine so we could dodge dragging boats and take some pressure off the ground tackle if we need to. There was also the very real danger of somebody dragging down and snagging our anchor and ripping it from the bottom taking us along with them. All hell was breaking loose all around us, air horns everywhere, deck lights coming on and people begging for help on the VHF.

We couldn’t see anything ahead of us, as its so damned dark, so I have Christy turn on our deck lights. It will destroy our night vision but we’re practically blind anyway. I was hoping that anyone who had broken free from the bottom might be able to avoid us if they could see us.

Getting to the bow was an effort as the wind was ferocious and the boat was bucking wildly at her anchor chain. Then it got worse…….

A deck light came on in front of us and revealed a huge ketch sideways to the wind and seas just ahead of us. She’s as big or bigger than we are, this could be ugly. She had started the evening about a hundred yards ahead of us and now she was about 60 yards away and steadily dragging. With the glow of her light ahead of us I can also see the size of the waves that are ripping through the anchorage and the boats breaking free off to both sides of us. Then it got a little bizarre for me. I was crouched at the bow and the scene in front of me became almost surreal. The winds noise and ferocity faded away, the danger was put aside and I started to watch the guy on the foredeck of the big boat in front of me. It was like watching the climax of an action film; I could see his boat rise up on the crest of each wave and fall out from under him all the while with him fighting valiantly to gain control before they dragged down on us. All of this was illuminated by his deck light and it looked as if his struggle was under the spotlight on a sound stage. It was a battle between man and nature, good and evil, it was epic, it was amazing to experience.

When I looked down I realized that while I was watching him, my hands were on their own and dumping chain in the water to increase our “scope” and thus our holding power. The guy in front of us was also dumping chain and he even dropped a second anchor to help stem his boats movement towards us. His boat finally recaught the bottom and danced wildly just off our bow. It also felt as if the wind was finally dying so I made my way back to the cockpit to see how Christy was holding up. The wind speed indicator at the helm said that there was still over 30 knots of wind but it felt so much calmer now that the worst was over. The radio was full of calls for help, people were frantic, they were overwhelmed, and you could hear the desperation in their voices.

One woman was pleading for help. Her husband was trying to maneuver their boat through the crowd after having wrapped their propeller in their own anchor rode as they were dragging. Now the engine won’t turn because the rope was tangled around the prop and the anchor was just skipping across the bottom as they bounce off one boat after another. They’re just being blown through the crowd with no means of control. Christy picks up the mic and in a calm voice tells the woman to deploy their second anchor. The woman says “oh my god, we forgot about it”. It was an experience to remember, Christy was calm, the guy in front of us was heroic and yet others fell to pieces.

There is one Boat US tow boat stationed in Block Island and one small Coast Guard boat. The tow boat guy was overwhelmed with calls as more than fifty boats dragged themselves into dire circumstances. Combine the pitch dark, the flashing rescue lights and the odd deck and anchor lights and it was an extraordinarily eerie scene. There were 5 boats tangled together all hanging from one anchor still firmly buried in the bottom right behind us. All the people on board were trying to fend each other away all night to try and limit the amount of damage. Anchored boats were breaking free and dragging through the mooring field, nobody was safe.

I sat up all night to keep an eye on things as the wind finally faded to 25 knots. Christy went below to try and get some rest but was able to get very little. As the light of dawn broke it was a scene of confusion that Christy and I surveyed. Every boat had a head or 2 in the cockpit, nobody got any sleep. In our immediate surroundings it was an amazing sight. We had gone to bed with boats all around us and now there were only 5 of us. Several boats ahead of us and every boat for a hundred yards behind us had dragged away.

As the sun came up so did the wind. Its back up to a steady 30 knots and boat are still moving about. Christy sat and kept watch while I got and hour of sleep in the cockpit. Once I was up, she napped and we kept a good watch until early afternoon when the winds finally slowed to 15 knots or so. One of the boats in the anchorage broadcasts that his wind speed indicator recorded a high speed of 47 knots. There were 40 foot boats up on the shore behind us. The big ketch in front of us was only twenty yards away and there were reports of several of the mooring balls dragging as well. I have no idea how people survive a hurricane.

During our morning “watch” Christy and I listened as a sailor called the Coast Guard and asked to be evacuated because they were taking on water. He gave a GPS coordinate, then said that they were 8 miles south of Cuttyhunk and then gave yet another coordinate. The Coast Guard started with their list of inane questions and after a few answers the guy yelled into the mic that “no, the pumps are not keeping up, we’re taking on hundred’s of gallons a minute” and then not another word. Nothing.

A commercial fisherman called in and said that he was 11 miles south of Cuttyhunk and the wind was blowing 40 knots with 16 foot seas. He was heading for the spot 3 miles away in an effort to help. The Coast Guard then realized that neither coordinate that had been given was anywhere near the spot near Cuttyhunk. Another fisherman was near the second set of coordinates and reported seeing a sailboat about 5 miles away in that direction. Long story short, the Coast Guard found the boat with the help of the second fisherman and airlifted 2 people away as it sank out from under them. The guy’s mistake in reporting their position almost cost them their lives.

What a day, I think tomorrow will be better.

August 15. We left the harbor at Watch Hill at 0900 just moments before high tide. We made it back out through the channel and turned for Block Island. For the first few miles we had 10 knots of wind over the stern so we had the genoa up with the tide behind us for a speed of about 6 knots.

Shortly after transiting the Watch Hill Passage the wind clocked around and now we were motor sailing with the mainsail alone. It was a pleasant ride in spite of the overcast conditions. We made good time and were anchored in the Great Salt Pond on Block Island by 1310.

As it turns out our friends Pat & Donna with their 2 daughters are there with some friends. We anchored nearby and planned to visit with them later in the evening.

It’s funny how the weather can change plans. There was a fairly vicious squall line moving south through the area late in the afternoon. The wind was from the south but true to form when the big winds came it was from the north. Of course our nearest neighbor dragged down on us as the winds built and clocked around. He pulled in 10 feet of anchor rode as we let out 20 more to allow him to swing past our bow. Sometimes I just feel like an asshole magnet. After the squall came through we were rewarded with a sunset that cast a bright red glow across the entire anchorage.

We don’t have the market cornered on adventures though. During the squall another boat dragged but managed to collect himself and reanchor. Unfortunately after all was said and done he ended up very close to another boat. This second captain demanded that the first guy pull his anchor and try it again. This led to a very heated argument between the 2 boats with the first guy finally pulling his anchor to try again in the fading light of day. As fate would have it though he ended up backing up over the second guys anchor line and wrapping it around his prop. So now they’re both banging against each other side by side, one facing north, and the other south. It was kind of like a pirate movie where they come along side each other for the final assault. So they’re both hanging from one anchor that’s wrapped around the guys prop in the crowded anchorage, screaming. Finally the Harbormaster and Towboat US came and got the remaining anchor up and towed them out into the darkness to separate them. Sailing is so relaxing.

The next morning the anchorage emptied out so we upped anchor and moved another 200 feet from the anchor dragging guy. Christy and I went for a dinghy tour of the anchorage and then went into town for a few hours. Upon our return we were informed that the anchor dragging guy dragged once again with virtually no breeze. Guess whose boat he came within 6 feet of hitting. Luckily our friend Pat was onboard his boat and noticed what was transpiring. He and his buddy, Rob boarded the unoccupied dragging boat and used their dinghy as a small tugboat to push Mr. Noanchoringskillwhatsoever away and then reset his anchor properly for him. I knew those Karma points I’ve been building would pay dividends one day.

We spent some time with Pat & Donna’s girls in the afternoon. They came over to spend some time with the dogs as they were missing their own dog who was left at home while they’re away on their trip. They were a little quiet and shy for about 7 seconds and then BANG, nonstop chatter about every topic under the sun. Holy crap, it was all I could do to keep up. I learned so much. I was feeding them grapes as fast as I could just so I could get a word in edgewise. Christy was in her element and I had no chance with 3 “women” in a chatting frenzy. I can’t wait to do it again. Seriously, I love a challenge.

The anchorage here at Block Island has a huge turnover everyday. Boats leave all morning and then a new supply of anchoring entertainment comes into the harbor every afternoon. It’s always the same mistakes but some people just have to add their own personal touch so it just never gets old.

The town here is about a mile away from the marina. It’s full of little tourist shops and eateries of every shape and size. It’s a charming little island but I have a hard time imagining enduring a New England winter on this tiny windswept rock.

We went to the only supermarket here on the island. It kind of reminded me of an A&P from the sixties. It was smaller than I expected with a fairly limited selection. The price of stuff was astonishing. A twelve pack of Diet Coke was ten dollars, seriously. We just went in for a few cold cuts, some bread and picked up the 12 pack of soda as an afterthought, 40 bucks for practically nothing. I can’t figure out how the locals here can feed a family.

There are 3 different marinas here in the Great Salt Pond. The biggest and most popular is Champlain’s Marina. Since we’ve been traveling we’ve probably stopped at fifty different marinas, either for fuel, water, dockage or repairs. This place ranks down there in one of the 2 worst we’ve been to. The dockhands are lazy, inattentive and some are inept. It’s a very busy place with boats rafted to docks sometimes 4 boats wide. The other 2 marinas are both smaller so this place has a take it or leave it attitude like they’re the only place in town.

The protocol is that when arriving a boat has to hail the dockmaster and announce their arrival. The dockmaster then looks for an appropriate spot and directs the boat owner on how to rig fenders and where to go. Sometimes there will be several boats milling about while these decisions are made. To make it easier some boaters will be told to switch from channel 12 to channel 11 because there are so many on the same channel at once.

We heard one boater told to go to eleven and after a while he went back to 12 and politely reminded the dockmaster that he was still waiting. The dockmasters reply was “I thought I told you to go to eleven, what are you doing on 12 *click*” There was no “sorry for the delay’ no “we’ll be right with you” instead the guy got bitch slapped on the VHF. I have to admit that I would be frustrated by some of the clueless boat owners they have to deal with here but the rudeness of the staff in general is appalling.

We’re anchored out in the harbor so it doesn’t really impact us but it is sad to see and hear. Otherwise Block Island is quite the charming place.

August 11. Holy crap what a difference a day makes. We rose to a beautiful cloudless sky with 10 knots of breeze that we could work with.

We weighed anchor and motored out of the cove and set our sails and turned east. We were moving along at about 5 knots through Fischer Island Sound. At the eastern end of the sound we were going to decide if we were going straight to Block Island or if we were going to yesterday’s original destination, the harbor at Watch Hill.

Just as we were getting to the decision point the wind completely died. We could also hear all the boats on their way out to Block complaining about the complete lack of wind. So we turned northeast and motored the couple of miles into Watch Hill. We’ll save the trip out to Block for a day with some breeze.

At the entrance to Watch Hill we were treated to a racing fleet getting ready for the beginning of their next race. The thing that made it so special that all of the 30 or so boats were classic Herrshoff designed sailboats.

The long channel into Watch Hill is a well marked, winding affair. There’s a 3 foot tidal range here and we were more than half way into a falling tide. A few times the depth finder showed 5 inches of water under our keel. We’ll have to make sure that we don’t try to leave here at any point close to low tide as we won’t make it out.

The anchorage is absolutely lovely. 9 feet of water at low tide next to a grass covered dune that separates the anchorage from the ocean.

Christy and I were listening to the VHF when a guy gets on the radio and calls the Coast Guard to tell them that his boat is on fire. We couldn’t believe how calm this guy was. It’s agonizing when the Coast Guard starts asking their list of questions. It’s like they ask a question, write down the answer and a few seconds later ask the next question and just seems like very little information is extracted in 10 minutes of back and forth communication.

Is it just smoke or are there flames as well?
Just smoke, we’re afraid to open the engine room door to look inside.
What color smoke?
Black smoke.
How many people on board?
6
Are they wearing life jackets?
Yes
Can you shut the fuel supply off with out opening the engine room door?
No
Have you shut the engine down?
Yes
Do you have fire fighting equipment?
Yes but I can’t get to it, it’s in the engine room. (Sorry, but that made me laugh)
Do you have a raft on board?
No
Is the boat gas or diesel powered?
Diesel……..but the smoke seems to have dissipated and I’ve looked inside the engine room and there seems to be nothing on fire.
Were still going to send a boat out your way, do you have towing insurance?
No but I’d like someone to be here with us when I restart the engines.

So it seems that this guy had enough black smoke billowing from the engine room to warrant a call to the Coast Guard. Then after the possible fire went out he deemed that it would be fine to restart em’ and get back underway. After the towboat guy was on scene he went and looked in the engine room. It turns out that a steering cable had chafed through an electrical harness, causing a short and the subsequent fire. The towboat guy said the damage was so bad that all of the steering and throttle cables were melted together to the point of immobility. The only electrical thing on the entire boat that still worked was the VHF radio. This guy thought he’d just start it back up and continue on his merry way. Maybe he thought that black smoke from the engine room meant they picked a new pope or something.

After dinner Christy and I were putting the dogs back into the dinghy after their walk when an official in a beach rover pulled up and shut his engine off. I’m thinking good thoughts and am pleased that this guy is stopping to chat with us. It turns out that there’s no dog walking allowed on the beach, not on either the ocean or the bay side. The people here are dog haters. The guy is pretty cool though and warns us to watch out for the guy who patrols here tomorrow because he’s a bit of a prick. Great, now I’ve got to play Iron Curtain and watch from the boat for the beach buggy to go by so I can throw the dogs into the dinghy, race them to shore, squeeze them and get away before he makes his next round. Where’s Ronald Reagan when you need him?

We’ve decided to spend the day here tomorrow and head over to Block Island on Monday and avoid the weekend crowd over there. The town here is supposed to be pretty nice even if it is overrun with dog haters. We’ll see.
We haven’t included any “boat names of the day” in a while and we have seen some good ones. There seems to be a theme of sorts lately as we’ve seen “Kid’s Inheritance”, “Kid’s Tuition” and “My Children’s Inheritance”. Our favorite lately was “Nervous Wreck”, can’t you just hear him calling the fuel dock for assistance because he’s a Nervous Wreck.

August 10. First off, let’s start off with a little bit about the Brewer’s Pilot’s Point Marina in Westbrook Connecticut. Its part of the Brewer’s Marina empire which means its part of a huge marina conglomerate with over a dozen marinas under one umbrella.

They were wonderful to us in this stressful time. They had a mechanic on our boat that worked like a dog. He was a real pleasant guy that didn’t spend any time bullshiting. If he had to go back to the shop for something he was back on the boat in just moments and we never felt as if our time “on the clock” was being wasted. They encouraged me to do as much of the disassembly as I could so we could save a few dollars.

We could have walked out of there and spent less money to get back underway but since we were so far into a major disassembly it only made sense to refurbish as much of the drive train as possible. A big part of this decision was based on how we were treated and the quality of the work that was done. We just felt like we were getting our monies worth.

We were minor celebrities there as one of the gas dock attendants told us that they had never had anyone actually live in the travel lift before. We were only hanging in the slings for 2 days but it seemed like a big deal to them.

So the boat was finished on Thursday morning. We got a ride into town to go food shopping while the bean counters tallied up the bill for our stay. After lunch we went up to the office and paid the bill then we went back to the boat and cried for a couple of hours. Not really…… crying never helps. We spent the rest of the day filling the fresh water tank, washing the boat, putting the interior of the boat back together and giving the dogs baths.

We left the service dock at 1800 hours and stopped at the fuel dock on our way out into the anchorage that we had stopped in 2 weeks ago when we first discovered our mechanical maladies. We were treated to a beautiful sunset over the regular Thursday night racing. It felt wonderful to back on the hook again.

The next morning we woke to a gray dismal day with 10 to 15 knots of wind straight from the direction we wished to travel. We had several other boats in the anchorage with us last night and each one left one by one. We watched as all of them turned west, finally one, Indulgence turned east. The tide would turn in our favor at about 0930 so we were in no hurry to get underway. We even sat and debated waiting until the next day before heading east. Once our neighbor, Indulgence, was underway for about an hour, Christy hailed him on the radio for a report on the conditions they were encountering. He replied that it wasn’t as bad as you’d think and they were making good time. It sounded fairly encouraging and we were on the fence about leaving so we hauled anchor and got underway.

About 45 minutes later Indulgence hailed us and said that things had gone to hell in a handbasket. The wind had piped up to 25 knots right on the nose and with the tide ebbing behind them they were getting their ass kicked. He advised that if we didn’t have anyplace special to get to today that we should stay put behind the seawall at Duck Island. Christy told him that we were underway 5 minutes after speaking to him the first time and things weren’t too bad as we only had about 12 knots of wind against us. His advice was to turn around and wait for better weather tomorrow and he wished us well and signed off.

Turns out, he was right. I should have turned around but we had already covered a few miles and I didn’t want to give those miles back. (Yeah I know stupid, stubborn, whatever I see it as adventurous) We ended up seeing 28 knots as our high and never less than 20 for the next few hours. The wind wasn’t really the problem; it was the fact that it was opposing a knot and a half tidal flow. This results in a very steep, nasty chop, think breaking waves one right after another. Again and again Veranda would explode out the back of a wave and crash down into the trough of the next wave with a thunderous explosion of spray. Several times we’d run into the odd huge wave that would bury our bow with enough green water to obscure everything on the foredeck.

A quick word about the crew. Christy handled the ride just fine, she said she knew that when Indulgence suggested that we turn back “that wasn’t going to happen.” It really was a crappy day with this being the worst conditions we’ve set out into and I should have turned back, screw adventure. I never heard “I told you so”. (It might have been uttered, I just never heard it) Rover steered the whole time and was spectacular. Molly is usually on high alert whenever we’re underway but today she just curled up and went to sleep seemingly unfazed. Tucker usually sleeps from anchor up to anchor down. Not today, he was freakin’ out. He was trying to stand so he’s falling this way and that like a furry bowling pin. It got so bad for him that we had to put him below where he finally laid down.

At one point on our trip the bottom rises sharply towards the surface. The depth goes from 70 feet to 20 in practically no time. This means that the immense volume of water now has to flow up and over this submerged plateau. This creates an actual lump on the water and with the wind cranking against it it made the area look like we should be white water rafting. It was crazy to see and I checked the depths on 2 different charts and the chartplotter just make sure that the water was really deep enough to pass through.

We decided to cut the day as short as possible (without turning around). We picked a small cove near Great Neck, Ct. as the place most likely to be comfortable for the night. The chart showed a boat ramp there so I knew that meant dog walking would be available.

For the last 2 miles as we motored into the cove the seas and wind started to abate as we drew closer to land. We anchored in a rock lined cove right in front of the boat ramp with only 10 knots of breeze in the lee of the land. It was good to drop the hook and be able to just sit back without having to hold on. All in all it was only a 16 mile day with 9 of those miles being truly horrendous.

We sat and listened to boaters all around the area changing plans and seeking shelter. The Coast Guard was looking for one small sailboat that had disappeared during the day. We heard about dinghies blown away, genoas torn to shreds and even one guy who swore he was encountering 45 knot gusts. Now that’s adventure………

August 4. Today’s been a day of firsts. First a little about Connecticut. I always pictured Connecticut as being in the same boat as Rhode Island and Massachusetts. You know the Kennedy’s, Martha’s Vineyard, Yachts, Kennebunkport, uptight conservative political snobbery. In reality the motorcyclists here wear no helmets and you can buy fireworks on the side of the road. They’re kind of like the hillbillies of the north…….who knew.

Christy got out the sewing machine and replaced the bug screen in our companion way hatch. I’m definitely beginning to domesticate her. First she’s up at any hour, no matter how ridiculously early it is and now she’s sewing bug screens. Who knows what tomorrow holds…….

We went up to Bill’s Seafood again for dinner. The place is way diveier than the Captains Inn but the food is great. Christy asks the waitress what she recommends and she instantly replies “a place with air conditioning”. It sits just past a “singing bridge” with a seven foot clearance. This means that the only boat traffic to watch is the occasional bow rider or tiny center console going past.



There are about a dozen “premium” tables with this glorious water side view with at least 50 second and third row tables available. As we were eating we were watching some guy and his date as they stood and waited for one of these evidently very desirerable front row tables to open up. It was kind of sad actually to think that one of the highlights of their evening was going to be their seat assignment at this fine eatery.

The mood did pick up for me when Christy leaned close to me at the table and said “promise me that you’ll never use ketchup in a restaurant again”. I look over at the next table and there’s this kid about 5 or 6 years old. He’s got the flip top ketchup in his mouth and he’s squeezing the bottle so he can suck the ketchup straight out of the container. Then he see’s that crusty, dry, old ketchup that’s stuck up inside the lid. Well evidently it some kind of delicacy wherever this kid is from. For as he’s putting the bottle down he see’s the inside of the lid has more tasty delights and he goes to work on the inside of the lid with his tongue. I should have gotten his autograph because with tongue work like that the kid definitely has a future in porn. Christy was all grossed out and I’m laughing like an idiot and all the while the kid’s parents don’t have a clue. Children are so precious.

So now I’m thinking I’ve seen everything and I’m still laughing as we get into the dinghy and head back to the boat. As we round a bend a small center console comes into view coming the other way. Now I’ve seen everything. The driver of the boat is wearing one of those full halo devices complete with the 2 screws into his forehead and 2 more into the back of his head. He’s standing there practically immobilized with this framework supporting his head and limiting his ability to move. Think Frankenboater. He and his girl both wave as we go by so Christy and I gave the reciprocal wave……….I was just going to nod but I didn’t want to show off. Holy crap, I can’t believe I just saw this guy in his little power boat with a broken neck. His doctor would have a stroke. I feel like a bobblehead after 10 minutes in a boat like that, I can’t imagine what he was thinking. I hope that was a small step in a miraculous recovery because that was bizarre to see.

As far as our boat goes…….we’re back in the water. The new shaft and shaft log are in and the stuffing box was cleaned up and repacked. As it stands now everything should be ready on Monday afternoon for reassembly. I hope we’ll be back underway by Thursday, we’ll see. We are using the time to do some boat chores and at the same time we are taking advantage of the pool here at the marina because its been hot as hell here.

August 1. Things aren’t going quite as well as we had envisioned. Once the bronze propeller shaft had been removed it became obvious that the shaft was scrap. There were deep grooves worn into the shaft where the packing had ridden on it in the past. Somebody had changed the shaft log and to hide the grooves they had cut the log an extra inch long. This means that the damaged part of the shaft was hidden inside the shaft log where no one could see it. It would probably be fine but as long as we’re this far into it we might as well fix everything we find that’s not right.

This means that there’s a new propeller shaft in our immediate future. On Wednesday morning the old shaft was sent to the local machine shop to be copied. We should have our new stainless version back on Friday. If that happens then we should be back in the water on Friday afternoon. Unfortunately they don’t work here on Saturdays so the rest of the reassembly won’t begin until Monday.

On the bright side tho is the fact that this yard is part of a network of yards so our transmission and V-drive have been sent over to another yard that has a full time guy that just deals with transmissions. So we're still hanging in the travel lift slings until we get the new shaft.




Well that was last night. First thing this morning Dave comes walking over with our brand new prop shaft. The old shaft was dropped off at the machine shop Wednesday morning before lunch and we had the new shaft installed in the boat by 1000 on Thursday. Great service, super quick turnaround.

The prop is back on and we are put back in the water and towed over to our previous berth. The transmission should be back in the morning and the generator is already to go. So there is an outside chance that we could be ready to go by the end of the day tomorrow. We have to remember that even tho the glass is half full it’s not a magical chalice. It all depends on what time the transmission gets here, there’s still a lot of work to do. The transmission and V-drive have to be reinstalled before the generator can be put back into place.

At night after the workmen have left for the day we’ve been using the opportunity to do some work on the boat. First thing we did after the generator and drive train were removed was to clean the bilge. Our bilge is 3 feet deep and was truly a dark scary place. You couldn’t even see the bottom let alone touch it. It’s spotless now…..alright, alright, it is pretty clean though. No, really.

Tonight I moved the generators small fuel filter and electric fuel pump. In its original position you couldn’t change the filter without unbolting the generator from the deck and sliding it aside to provide only marginal access. I had never even seen the tiny electric fuel pump before all this disassembly so I moved that as well since I had the opportunity.

Tomorrow should be interesting……..

July 31

July 31. Alrighty, a little recap. We’re broken down in Westbrook Connecticut at the Pilots Point Marina.

Saturday night Christy wanted to go out for dinner and we’re fairly well out in the sticks. We take the dinghy and head on up the river looking for a place recommended by another boater here at the marina. After a short ride we arrive at Bill’s Seafood Restaurant. We tie up to their floating dock and head on in. The place was borderline diveish but the food was good and served on a riverfront deck. Adjacent to the restaurant is a bridge with a deck made of a metal grid, you know, a singing bridge. It was a little weird eating and having your conversation interrupted continuously by vehicular traffic crossing the bridge.


On Monday morning we meet our mechanic, Dave. I guess he drew the short straw as this job is going to be no party. I had already removed the cabinet so Dave got right to work. He was able to remove the generator and take it up to the shop for service. It was in the way and had to come out anyway.

A quick word about our generator. It’s a Fischer Panda 4.5 KW model that the previous owner had installed... It’s pretty much a piece of shit. I’ve had to do 2 major repairs in the last 9 months. 600 dollars in parts for a 5 year old generator with less than 300 hours on it is a little ridiculous. Trying to get one serviced is a joke. We called all six authorized service centers in the Annapolis area when we were there and not one was interested in doing the job. When we got to the Sound we called 3 different service centers on the north shore of Long Island and were told by all 3 that they could look at it in 2 or 3 weeks. Yeah, let me just hang around here for 3 weeks. So hopefully they will be able to fix it while we’re here anyway. So the bottom line is that if somebody puts a gun to your head, take the bullet, don’t buy a Fischer Panda, if you do you’ll wish you were dead anyway.

But there is good news from the bilge. Once the generator was cleared out of the way the shaft coupling came into view. All 4 bolts that hold the shaft coupling together were sheared off. This means that there’s probably no damage to the transmission. The grumbling noise we all heard was the 2 coupling plates rubbing against each other as the apparently healthy transmission tried to turn the propeller shaft.

This is excellent news as this means internal moving parts of the transmission are probably not damaged. However since Dave is so far into the disassembly we’ve decided to have him continue to remove the transmission so we can replace the 22 year old clutch plates. While we’re at it we’re also going to replace the 22 year old shaft log which is pretty much just a rubber hose that keeps the ocean on the outside of the boat. So the bottom line is that we’re still spending money but with the improvements we’re making we shouldn’t have to get this deep into the boat again for10 years. Half full, half full.

Tonight we had dinner with Pat & Eddie. They were the couple that we had met in Snead’s Ferry, N.C. when we broke our damper plate on our way south. Since then we’ve also run into them in Marathon, Miami and Saint Augustine. The odd part is that they’ve been on the road in their van and have been in our vicinity by chance…….or they could be stalkers, hmmm. Actually, they’re just awesome folks who make the effort to include running into us as part of their road trips. We hope to hook up with them on our way south this fall as they should have vanquished all of their boat gremlins by then and will be headed south themselves.

So tonight we hang suspended above the ground in the travel lift and should have our new shaft log installed in the morning. After that we’ll be back in the water and as soon as the transmission is ready it will be reinstalled as well.

July 28. Yesterday the towboat came as promised and took us into the Pilot’s Point Marina in Westbrook Connecticut. The marina has over 850 slips and the largest travel lift will handle up to 80 tons. This place is huge with over 70 employees running this way and that.

I had spoken to the service manager, Jeremy, by phone when we broke down to let him know we’d be coming. When we got here we went up to the office and signed in and then went back to the boat to wait.

In the afternoon Jeremy and his head mechanic came by to diagnose and plan our repair. They confirmed our suspicion that it was indeed the transmission. Jeremy said they had a scheduling meeting the next morning and he’d stop by and tell us where we fit into their plans.

I’m a little freaked out because staying here costs over a hundred dollars a night. If they can’t get to us for several days we could be spending money like crazy without getting any work done. Now I’m second guessing myself, should we have stayed out on the hook until they were sure there would be a mechanic available to us? What if it’s a week? Ommm Ommmm, half full, half full.

Good to his word Jeremy showed up after the planning session and told us we’d have a man first thing Monday morning. He was very sensitive to the fact that we are liveaboards and they were doing a little juggling to get us done before some less time sensitive projects that they had going. He also suggested I have the interior disassembled as much as possible to save time and some money. I was already planning to do that but it was nice to hear he was thinking about us saving some money.

So in the big scheme of things, we’re safe and we’re in what seems to be the best place to take care of our needs. It could have been way worse, we might have had to go into an unfamiliar anchorage under sail, search for the spot and then drop the hook with other boats all around. As it was, the transmission held out just long enough to deliver us safely with the least amount of stress. Yep, still half full.

Oh yeah, while I think of it. Since I’ve had the time and an internet connection I’ve worked on our Blog a bit and have added the option for anyone reading our Blog to add a comment there for us to read. So if you’ve got something to say…….lets hear it.

July 26

July 26. Last night was great sleeping weather, a little chill and virtually no wind.

At the head of Cold Springs Harbor is a yacht club that performs the ritual of firing a canon at sunset. When the gun went off it startled all of us and almost gave Molly a stroke. After awhile she was able to calm down and I told Christy that clubs like that usually fire their cannon again at 0800, and then I completely forgot about it.

So the next morning we’re hauling the anchor at 0800 when that damn gun goes off again. I was in the bow pulpit tending the anchor and almost shit myself. Molly spazed and all around the boat a thousand tiny fish jumped from the water in perfect unison at the big guns retort.

So we’re east bound for a fifty mile day to Duck Island which isn’t much of an island at all. There’s a tiny island tucked up against the Connecticut shore with 2 long stone jetties running out from the island to form a 90 degree breakwater. A half mile to the east the land juts out to afford some protection from the east. To the west, almost a mile away is another very long jetty. So we’ve got pretty good protection from every direction.

On the way here the bay was as flat as any water we’ve seen. We had the main up to grab whatever small zephyrs of wind there might be as we motored east. The wind did build for us to about 8 knots so we were able to get all sail up and make decent time. We also had the ebb tide for most of the trip so for a good part of the day we were making over 7 knots SOG.

There’s an unusual phenomena here on Long Island Sound, Mylar balloons. When we were here a few years ago we were constantly coming across Mylar balloons that had lost their oomph but were still inflated enough to float. We saw dozens of them, one here, and 2 there. In the last 3000 miles I don’t remember seeing any at all. Today we saw at least 15, again, one here, one or 2 there. It’s probably housewives on Long Island (pronounced Long Guyland) releasing them to live in the wild. Ditzes.

When we finally arrived we dropped sail just outside the breakwater and motored inside. After a quick tour around the anchorage we picked a nice spot and dropped the hook. When I signaled Christy for reverse we found that we didn’t have any. Damn. We were still moving forward very slowly when I dropped the hook so I was fairly sure the anchor had set. I then paid out 60 feet of chain in the 9 feet of water.

Troubleshooting the problem determined that our transmission had given up the ghost, as they say. I was hoping that it was something simple (read that as cheap) like the Morse cable that controls the linkage but noooo.

We called Towboat US and since we were safely anchored we arranged to be towed in the morning. We got out the guide books for the area and were pleased to find out that we’d broken down less than a mile from the biggest full service marina in Connecticut and arguably on the Sound. So if there’s a bright side……..(remember, my glass is always half full)

July 25

July 25. Yesterday while underway the bilge pump kicked on a few times. I figured it was the new packing that I had put in the propeller shaft stuffing box.

So last night after writing yesterdays trip report I opened up the bilge to adjust the stuffing box and was confronted with the sight of water dripping down off the starter. Damn. It looks as if the starter was touching the heat exchanger on the engine and over time has worn a hole clean through. Christy was already asleep so I closed up the bilge and set the alarm for 0600 so I could tackle the job in the morning.

I slept like crap and woke up at 0500. I let Christy sleep, alright she laid there while I made as little noise as possible and went to work on the leak. I had to remove my old friend the starter (yet again) to get at the heat exchanger. When I did I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was a hose clamp that I had put on back in Sneads Ferry that had failed. The heat exchanger was still good although it did have a rather deep depression worn into the case. A little JB Weld to fill the depression, a scrap of leather as chaff protection and we were good to go. I even adjusted the stuffing box just for the hell of it while I was waiting for the JB Weld to dry.

So we still made our planned 0930 departure but first there was the pooping of the dogs. Here in Atlantic Highlands this involves a short dinghy ride to a dirty little beach. This morning’s trip was at near low tide so I grounded the dinghy 50 feet from shore and had to carry the dogs to the beach. Both dogs wear life jackets with handles on their backs to make it easy for me to handle them. I was wading through shin deep water with a doggie “suitcase’ in each hand. When I glanced down at Tucker he’s very slowly swimming the dog paddle 12 inches above the water. I guess he just wanted to be ready in case I dropped him too soon.

We were able to sail most of the way to the Verrazano Bridge before motoring through the city on our way to Long Island Sound. A quick rant about New York, Down south I made sport of a lot of the local expressions such as twern’t and thems. Truth be told they were fun but a lot of it was because there was no malice, no lack of civility, just people being generally pleasant. It was funny, but it was nice. Here in New York its F…this F….that. It’s all this mondo negativity; I’ve never heard so many grown ass men complaining about everything under the sun. They’re out on the water on a weekday and their still complaining about every little f…ing thing. I have no idea how they handle Parkway traffic.

We’ve stopped for the night in Cold Springs Harbor. The sunset was incredible tonight and showed a thousand shades of orange and red for hours after the sun went down. Today was a 53 mile day and even with the 0930 start we were able to anchor by 1730 hours. Tomorrow looks to be about a 50 mile day as we head to Duck Island to set ourselves up with a 40 mile run to Block Island the following day. We’ll be underway by 0830 and ride the ebb tide out Long Island Sound.

July 24

July 24. We are finally on our way north. We would like to be in the inlet at 0830 to take advantage of the ebb flow. It’s a nice change of pace to be able to get up at a reasonable hour, walk the dogs and head out across the bay at a relaxed pace.

The tide has just started falling as we negotiate the Oyster Creek Channel and we’re getting sucked along at 8 knots. We just came in the inlet a month ago but the channel has changed so much that we managed to bump bottom twice. Thanks to the extra speed of the falling tide we were able to barrel through the “skinny” spots. Calling it a channel is being way to generous.

By the time we were in the inlet we were doing close to 9 knots. When we turned north we threw up the sails only to discover that there wasn’t enough wind to sail with. The wind was from the northeast and was light and fluky until we approached Sandy Hook.

The wind backed around and built to about 16 knots so we were able to sail for the last couple of hours. We also caught the tidal flow into Sandy Hook so we were sailing along quite nicely at over 9 knots SOG.

On our way north we did see several pods of dolphins. We even saw a flock of pelicans and we realized that neither one of us could remember seeing pelicans this far north before.

I also tried my luck at trolling again. I drag a 100 foot hand line behind the boat which ties to a diving plane. The diving plane presents the lure at a controlled depth a few feet below the surface. Attached to the diving plane is ten feet of heavy monofilament which is clipped to an 8 foot wire leader. The monofilament acts as a shock absorber and the wire keeps the fish from biting your lure off. Or so they tell you………whatever monster of the deep hit our lure bit clean through the wire leader. When I reeled in the line we discovered that the steel leader had been lopped off. At least I know the lure worked.

We dropped sail at the end of the breakwater in Atlantic Highlands. When we came around the end of the wall we found ourselves virtually alone as there were no other boats anchored there. The moorings were full of unoccupied boats but no one was anchored here at all.

After dinner 2 more boats did come in so we had some others to share the sunset with. Tomorrow we’re off for Long Island Sound but we don’t want to reach The Battery in Manhattan before 1300 hours because of the ripping currents in the East River. So we don’t have to leave here before 0930, oh look, another late start. Yes!!!!!

July 16

July 16. We had dinner with Capt Bill H. last night. During conversation he wanted to know if the good times outweighed the bad.

It seems that most of the times that I’ve recounted are when things aren’t going just right. Dragging boats, inconsiderate boaters, unsettled weather, breakdowns, jet skis and the like.

I need to make it clear that the difficult times were pretty much what we had expected while the good times were better and more numerous than we ever could have hoped for. They say that “attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure”. Christy and I try to see life like that; the glass is half full. So even when things aren’t going as smoothly as we’d like; ultimately we’re in charge of our own destiny.

We do our best to limit our exposure to the predictable pitfalls and we actively react to the unexpected. For every unexpected squall there’s dozen’s of breathtaking sunsets. For every “captain” that can’t anchor there’s the satisfaction of being master of your own situation and handling the unexpected.

I can’t say enough about the beauty of our country. The wildlife is incredible and the sunsets are absolutely amazing. The sunrises would be wonderful if they just weren’t so damned early so that’s a toss up. We can’t wait to see more of the world.

Stress is a relative term, admit it, you’ve probably wanted to murder that guy who slows to a crawl in the E Z Pass lane on the highway, I always wanted to. Now the stress of transiting a rough inlet is something we deal with and get to come out of with a feeling of accomplishment. We get plenty of chances to doubt ourselves but we try our best to turn them into opportunities to prove ourselves. It like hey look; the boat can handle it and so can we.

The biggest plus is the people that we’ve met along the way. Most of the people in the towns and marinas along the way have been extraordinary. Even when we meet someone we don’t care for we just keep moving, no biggie, or I introduce Rumboy and they usually leave at first opportunity, lol.

We’ve been given the opportunity to help strangers when they’ve needed it most. I can’t begin to explain the deep feeling of satisfaction it’s given me to help someone when they needed it. I know it sounds corny but a heartfelt “thank you” can be an extremely gratifying thing. Besides, I’m filling my Karma box with bonus coupons.

A lot of the cruiser’s that we’ve met have become friends that we keep in touch with and look forward to crossing wakes with again. The amount of people willing to help you when you need it is staggering. Whenever we walk a strange town we can always spot the other cruising couples. They’re either lugging 50 pounds of laundry or they’re holding hands.

There are negatives. We don’t see family as often as we did but I’ve noticed that its become quality time when we were reunited rather than taking anyone’s presence for granted. So even that can be a good thing, remember, the glass is half full. But saying “good bye” does suck.

July 13

July 13. It’s been a while so lets get started with Something Bill Doesn’t Understand.

When did they do away with that old library standard, “SHhhhhh!” Since we’ve been out and about sometimes we’re at the mercy of the local library for our internet connection. Lately we’ve been going to the Lacey Township branch of the Ocean County Library for a Wifi connection.

Holy Christ this place is noisy. I’m mean holy shit the library was always a bastion of quiet and concentration. Not here though, it’s more like a social center where the thought of quiet never entered anyone’s mind. The loudest people here are the hen circle behind the library counter. It’s ridiculous as they all blabber back and forth like they’re at a basketball game. I feel like Michael Douglas in that movie, “Falling Down”, I just want to start smacking people with the leg of a chair to remind them that they’re in the freaking library. For God’s sake shut up, nobody thirty yards across the room cares what kind of conditioner you use.

Okay; end of rant.

We sent our lifelines out to be duplicated as ours were pretty much at the end of their service life. The company we used advertised 2 day turn around once the samples were received. Not for us though, we called after several days without getting a telephone quote and were told that they didn’t receive our old lines. Christy supplied them with a tracking number and after a while they called and said “oh yeah, they’re here, we had them all along, oops, sorry”.

We should be back underway and headed north by this weekend. The time we’ve spent here has been well spent. We’ve seen family and done plenty of boat chores.

The day we leave will be bitter sweet as we leave family and friends but it will be good to get going again.

July 4th

July 4th. Happy Birthday America. We woke to a grey day with the constant threat of rain. The wind is blowing pretty good and the forecast is now calling for 15 to 20 tonight with gusts of 30 possible.

The fireworks displays in most of the neighboring communities were canceled because of the high winds. The winds were between 10 and 15 in our area so our show went on as scheduled. It was a spectacular display as usual and 10 minutes after it was over it started to rain. The crappy forecast kept a lot of the pleasure boats home but there were still over a thousand boats present. Shortly after the show ended most of the boats headed for home and we turned in for the night content to sleep through the stormy night.

The next morning Nick & Edie on Cirrus headed home while we opted to wait for the tide to come in after lunch so we could get out of the Toms River. The settings on our Max Prop still are not right so we were not able to motor anywhere near cruising speed so we motor sailed south into steady 20 knot southerlies at about 4 knots.

We’re not under any real schedule pressure so we decided to spend the night at Berkley Island which was on our way home. The night in Berkley was beautiful as usual and was over quickly.

Friday morning we crabbed for a while before getting underway around 1000 hours. The winds were from the west at 5 to 12 knots and made for a very pleasant sail. So pleasant in fact that once we arrived at the mouth of the Forked River we turned around and headed back north. We ended up putting 25 miles on the boat running back and forth from Berkley to Forked River. It was a very special day as Veranda was fast as hell with her clean bottom in the variable winds.

I’ve been waiting to go to a party that we’ve been invited too and Saturday nights finally here. The party was “off the hook” as the expression goes. Combine a huge ocean front home with outstanding decks, wonderful hosts, catered food, endless liquor and a kickass 8 piece band and what do you expect.

The band, Shorty Long and the Jersey Horns were set up on the lower deck. They had a stage that was probably 10 by 30 in front of a dance floor that easily held a hundred people which were surrounded by tables and chairs, so what I’m getting at is the deck is huge. Oh yeah and there’s a large wet bar off to the side. They were serving food on the second deck which looks down on the larger lower “dancing” deck. It was an incredible night. The band was so good that dozens of neighbors brought lawn chairs and sat out near the dunes to enjoy the show.

After the band knocked off at 2200 hours (local noise ordinance) Ashlee, Christy and I went up to the rooftop observation/ sun deck. You are literally on top of the highest building in sight except for the casinos of Atlantic City which you can plainly see more than 15 miles away. Laying back and star watching was awesome. We left for home as the band cleaned up just before the homes impressive stereo system was brought into play for round two of the evening. I have to say though that this was the first party that I was ever at that the police were there before we even got there. Lol. What a good time.

July 3rd

July 3rd. A little recap of the past week or so. We’ve done a lot of work on the boat during the last week. I disassembled and cleaned a dozen sea cocks and replaced one faulty seacock. We stripped, sanded and put 3 coats of Cetol on our rub rail and toe rail. We also added a swim platform to Veranda’s transom and polished all the stainless.

Then we compounded and waxed the hull. We repaired the scratch below the waterline then painted the bottom, removed, serviced and reassembled the Max Prop. Put on new zincs, repacked both stuffing boxes and installed a new cutlass bearing. We’ve been busy while the boats been on the hard.

Earlier in the week I had a problem with a tooth. So for a couple of days I couldn’t really eat then I had to have the tooth removed. The dentist had to cut the tooth in half after working hard to try to remove it whole. Let’s just say that it was no party.

The day after the surgery it was 90 degrees, I’m still unable to eat anything substantial and I’m on Percocets. So of course delirium was the next reasonable step. I don’t even remember what I was doing when I decided that the 10 foot ladder wasn’t the place to be so I went and laid down for a couple of hours in the shade of the cockpit. The fog of my delirium soon lifted but not before I had a very vivid dream about 37 children all named Landon running around the boat. I must be getting old because small children scare me almost as much as Pelligators. First Rumboy then Delirium Lad, good grief who’s next………

Flash was good enough to come down to the boat on Monday afternoon (his day off) and put the boat into the water. I wanted to get it in on Monday because I had so many potential leaks to check after servicing so much of the underwater gear. It all went well with no leakers so we had the evening to put the interior of the boat back together.

Tuesday morning we pumped out the holding tank and filled the water tank then headed off for Toms River. There’s a very impressive fireworks display there every year and we wanted to get there on the third to insure a great viewing spot.

Our friends, Nick & Edie on Cirrus were waiting for us as we came out the Forked River. The two of us had a very pleasant 14 mile sail even though we had a five minute encounter with the bottom as we approached the Toms River. There’s only about a dozen boats scattered about but tomorrow will bring at least another thousand. The wind is supposed to build to 15 to 20 knots tomorrow evening so it should be interesting. A stiff breeze, alcohol, explosives and tiny anchors……….could it get any better?

June 22

June 22. We’ve been here in Forked River for several days now. It was wonderful to get back to friends and family.

After arriving early on Saturday morning we took quick naps and set out. Our first stop was to the office of the marina where I formerly worked. It was lunch time so we spent a bit of time sitting with all the guys from the marina and catching up on each others recent history.

The next afternoon we were able to have dinner with Charlie and Nell who left later that evening on a 3 month cruise of their own to Nova Scotia. It was good to get back in time to see them before they left. Charlie has been a very positive influence in my sailing career and it was wonderful for me to get to watch them cast off the dock lines for their dream trip. If anyone see’s S/V Nelly Ruth, make sure to say hi.

Since then we’ve spent time with several friends at various dinners, visited with family and attended a yacht club function. We’ve been busy every evening after putting in full days of working on the boat.

The marina published our Blog address in their monthly newsletter and evidently it’s really taken off. We’ve been stopped by dozen’s of people who have been following our adventure’s, I had no idea so many people were reading our Blog. It was a little overwhelming to think that the crap I write is being so widely read.