September 15. Yesterday we had over 15 knots of wind from the south. It was supposed to clock around and blow 20 to 25 after midnight. As a precaution we went 5 miles up into the Sassafras River to anchor for the night with 360 degrees of protection.

During the night the wind died and we awoke to a dead calm anchorage. The thought of the old expression “calm before the storm” flickered through my mind. We had a fifty mile day scheduled so we didn’t get underway until 0700. After pulling the anchor we motored down the Sassafras towards the upper Chesapeake Bay. As we motored west the wind started to build ever so slowly. By the time we got to the mouth of the river we had 22 knots of wind dead on the nose.

As we started to turn south we were able to put up the mainsail albeit with a double reef in. We were still to close to the wind so we had to motor sail for a few miles until we turned more towards the south. After turning south, out came the genoa and off went the engine. We were running before the wind with the ebb tide going with us. It was wonderful, for a while.

The seas soon built to become formidable rollers. They were from our starboard quarter so things could have been way worse but we were on the edge of control a good bit of the time. We had to slow the boat down as we were really flying down the front side of the breaking swells. It took every bit of effort to pull in some genoa without turning upwind to luff the sail. I pulled so hard my hamstrings hurt; I pulled a muscle in my stomach and brutalized my hands. The waves can’t get too big in the bay because of the shallowness but they stack up very close together, break quickly and it can get pretty ugly very quickly.

Once we had the boat slowed to about 8 knots we had a much better time of it. The VHF was alive with the chatter of boaters discussing the severity of the sea state. Then came the promise of relief, several power boaters that were headed north said that the conditions were not nearly so bad on the south side of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. They were flabbergasted by what they ran into on the north side of the bridge.

We had run the thirty some miles to Annapolis easily before noon and we had planned to continue on to Deale, Maryland about 16 miles further. The wind dropped to about 15 to 18 knots but the seas became fairly flat. So out came the rest of the genoa and we were effortlessly sailing along at about 7 knots even though the flood tide had started to fill in against us. We were abreast of Deale at 1300 hours so we decided to continue on to Solomon’s Island. It would be another 20 or so miles but we couldn’t really put it to bed with the wind blowing so nicely for us. So on we went.

Along the way we saw 9 of those Navy 44’s positioning themselves for the start of some racing. Man those are pretty boats and the crews all look really sharp all dressed alike. Those things look like rockets as they streak across the water.

We also saw a submarine floating in the bay out in front of Annapolis. It was pretty cool to see until the machine gun toting patrol boat came out and ran us off.

When we got to Solomon’s I went to roll up the genoa and found that I couldn’t. I could roll it in about 2 turns and then it would jam up. Crap. I couldn’t find anything binding on the furling line and then I realized that there was an over wrap in the drum on the roller furling unit. Shit. The line had fallen down over itself and now with hundreds of pounds of pressure on it I couldn’t even begin to untangle the mess.

Even when Christy turned the boat up into the wind there was still an incredible amount of pressure as the sail flapped wildly. That was one of those times that an “Easy’ button would be perfect. I ended up sticking a screwdriver through the lower snap shackle to turn the drum manually and hold it with all my weight with one hand while I stuck my fingers inside the drum and untangle the mess. I wondered which would hurt worse, the screwdriver slipping out and stabbing me in the chest each time it spun around or my fingers getting ripped off in the drum. I’m thinking fingers. After a couple of minutes that seemed like days, I was able to clear the line and we were back in business. It was the first time I’ve ever had a drum jam like that and if it never happens again it’ll be okay with me.

So all in all today ended up being a 77 mile day when we thought we’d be doing 50 or so. The best part about it though was that we probably sailed close to 70 of those miles and still made great time. Everything considered this was one of the best sailing days ever.

September 14. When we turned in last night we were on the edge of a pack of a half dozen anchored boats. I was up and on deck to take the dogs to shore at 0500 this morning. As I looked around I couldn’t believe it, everyone else was gone. I mean its freaking 5 o’clock in the morning and everyone else is already up and underway?

The conventional wisdom is to leave Cape May 2 hours after low tide. In doing so you are assured of a push all the way up the Delaware Bay, as the tide floods in and you ride it like a wave. Low tide was at 0400 so I was planning to leave at 0600, so where’d everybody go?

As we pulled out of the Cape May Canal and turned north we could see several boats rounding Cape May. It didn’t dawn on me until that moment that all of the boats anchored near us had been too tall to make it underneath the 55 foot fixed bridges that straddle the Canal. So they probably left around 0400 to go back out through the inlet and then were forced to sail around the tip of Cape May and on up into the Delaware.

When our courses finally intersected we were 400 yards behind a 40 foot sailboat that we had been anchored next to last night. The tide was really rolling in and we had a supposed 5 knots of wind straight over the stern. The wind built steadily and we were soon doing a steady 9 knots SOG with 15 to 18 knots of wind. We only had the full mainsail up and tied off to one side with a preventer to avoid the chance of an accidental gybe in the very rolly conditions. After 40 miles we were still 300 yards behind him. When we surfed at 11 knots so did he, when we gained on him, he’d pull away yet again.



When we arrived at the C&D Canal we had to drop sail as you are not allowed to sail through the canal. We pulled into the canal and fell into line 200 yards behind the same boat. I never touched the throttle from the moment we entered the canal until we anchored over 30 miles later and we were still 200 yards behind him. I couldn’t believe how both boats were so evenly matched even after so many miles. I’m sure he must have been getting a complex as we followed him all day and anchored just a couple of yards away in the Sassafras River.

The weather is supposed to be pretty nasty tomorrow with big winds. The winds are supposed to be from the north northwest for 2 days and if they are manageable we should be able to sail a good portion of the way to the Potomac. We have an appointment with George on Thursday that I’d like to keep but we won’t let that cloud our judgment.

September 13. We were up and underway at 0600 hours. The tide at the inlet will be ebbing so we’ll get sucked out the inlet and into the ocean. The only downside of this is that we’ll be transiting the channel to the inlet at just about low tide. The last time we went through this channel we bumped the bottom but were able to force our way through. Today, not so much.

We hit bottom at the same place we did last time except this time we were good and stuck. As the parade of fishing boats sped past we tried to use their wakes to bounce our way along and get going again. No dice. We had to call Tow Boat US and they showed up after about 30 minutes and towed us free of this series of speed bumps. We’ve traveled about 4000 nautical miles and this is the first time we needed to be towed free from a grounding. In our home waters no less.

Once free of the bottoms clutches we were on our way to the inlet again. The time spent “parked” cost us our shot at the last of the ebb tide so it was a little slow heading out the inlet into the newly flooding tide.

Once clear of the inlet we turned south towards Cape May. The breeze was between 3 and 8 knots so we were forced to motor sail the entire way. It was so pleasant I was able to take the time to fix a problem that my professional electrical “technicians” left behind. It wasn’t so bad and with the little bit of lift from the sails we were able to drop the hook in Cape May by 1700 hours. We anchored among 6 other cruising boats after a pleasant 75 mile day.

September 12. Holy shit where does the time go. It’s been a week since my last update. We’ve been sitting here at the marina in Forked River. We’ve accomplished most of the things on our “to-do” list. The marina here has several picnic areas scattered around the property. Most marinas have these areas but this is the first marina we’ve been to that the people actually seem to get together and use these spaces. It’s nice to see the people from 2, 3 or 4 boats getting together for meals, cocktails and laughter. There’s the Wild Bunch, the Corner Club, the Odd People that nobody talks about. It’s really a nice place to hang out.

I was able to finish the dinghy chaps and after some eye hooks are installed on the inside of the dink, it’ll be ready to install. When I post pictures you’ll be impressed, if not, I’ll just blame it on the quality of the camera.

I recounted before the trouble we’ve had with our alternator on our journey. I’d decided I needed professional help, no not that, with the alternator. As luck would have it there is a business near the marina that bills themselves as being a DC marine specialist, excellent, just what we need, an expert.

I went over and arranged for an estimate which turned into an agreement to do some work. I was not really comfortable doing anything but basic electrical work. I need a professional so I can walk away from this knowing that everything was done right and I can sleep at night.

I haven’t slept since. There were several components added to our existing system along with another alternator. Everything was installed and when it was time to hit the go button, nothing worked. The boat started but everything in the instrument panel was dead. Crap.

Anyway, to make a long story short. They installed everything and when it didn’t work the guy wanted to bill me for 6 additional man hours to figure out what was wrong with the work they just did. Its got to be a mistake so I went down to see the boss and ask about the hours billed.

I didn’t even get to finish asking the question when this a-hole started screaming about me trying to cheat him, how I’m a thief. I was astonished; I was almost speechless, almost. He ended up throwing me out, threatening to call the cops if I didn’t leave. All I wanted to do was pay them and now he wouldn’t even take any money. I ended up leaving a check after they were gone for more than they earned, but I’ll be damned if I’ll pay for them to troubleshoot their own incompetence. Past performance is no guarantee of future results so your experience may vary from mine. But I wouldn’t let these “technicians” plug in a toaster for me. Twenty dollars to plug it in, and four hundred dollars to figure out how they plugged it in wrong.

September 7. Things are moving slowly but at least they’re moving in the right direction. When we were here in Forked River in June we took the dogs for booster shots and physicals. It turned out both dogs had Lyme’s Disease. The treatment was for us to give them a months worth of antibiotics while we were away. When we got back they would be rechecked and if healthy they would be given inoculations to keep them from getting Lyme’s again.

The follow up trip to the vets proved that the antibiotics were successful and since the dogs were free of Lyme’s they could be inoculated against getting it again. During this physical it was discovered that Molly had a tumor on her stomach. After a series of x-rays it was determined that surgery would be necessary.

I walked her up to the vet on Friday morning and it proved to be a long day waiting until we could pick her up again on Friday evening. The operation went well and although she was completely out of it she appeared to be fine.

It was good that Molly was fine but sadly our sewing machine died. There was much sorrow. We’re in the middle of making dinghy chaps for our dinghy. Dinghy chaps are a tight fitting protective layer of sunbrella fabric pulled over the dinghies tubes. The fabric protects the tubes from the sun and can double the life expectancy of your dinghy.

The process involves pulling the dinghy up onto the dock and taping heavy paper to the tubes. Once the paper is completely covering the dinghy it is removed in sections and used as a pattern for the sunbrella material. Our pattern ended up yielding 5 large pieces of material which will have to be sewn together, but alas the sewing machine is dead.

We went to the nearest Wal-Mart and bought a Singer, brought it home to the boat and discovered that it’s a piece of shit. I got it all set up, got all the sewing crap out and laid out the pieces of fabric. I started to sew and discovered that the tension could not be adjusted because a small metal part was fractured. So it was broken right out of the box.

Just about that time the youngest girl child dropped in with her boyfriend for a short visit. Good, I needed the break as between yesterday and today the sewing machines were starting to get the best of me. But like I said, their visit was short and Christy and I were soon on our way back to Wal-Mart to return the defective machine. Then we headed over to Sears where we picked up a cheap Kenmore machine that had been highly rated on the internet..

I got about half of the sewing done this evening and the new Kenmore seems to be doing a pretty good job of it. I am getting the hang of sewing but if ever we meet and I offer to sew something for you, just say no, we’ll both be better off for it.

Boat Name of the Day: A sailboat named Jib’rish. I thought it was pretty clever.

September 4. Well, here we sit in Forked River NJ. We’re safely tied up in a very protected, very clean marina; we’re surrounded by family and friends.

We got to do some catching up with the oldest girl child as we haven't seen her since Christmas.

We even went for a daysail with friends on their Pearson 36. It was loads of fun to blast around on a boat other than our fully loaded floating home.

As usual we’ve got a list of projects that we’d like to accomplish. We’ve already put 2 coats of Cetol on the rest of our unprotected topside woodwork.

Most of the projects are pretty small and the list really isn’t that long but there is work to be done. We spent a day in a borrowed car and did laundry, reprovisioning and ran errands. We also had to order a few parts so we are going to be here for about 10 days while we wait for things to arrive. This will give us the time to visit with family and friends and accomplish most of our list.

The biggest thing on our list was a problem we’ve been having with our alternator. We burned out our original alternator 2 months into our trip and we fried our spare about a week ago on our trip through the Long Island Sound. Two burned alternators in about a year is excessive. Its seems that the problem basically that our battery bank is so large that the alternator is killing itself trying to fill the capacity that it “see’s”. It’s kind of like filling a swimming pool with a bucket. So we were forced to bite the bullet and order a bigger alternator, a huge bucket.

Today while getting back on the boat Christy had a little mishap. She was carrying a pocketbook for the first time in almost a year and decided to drop it on deck so her hands would be free while climbing aboard. Funny thing though, she missed the boat and dropped the bag into the river. I didn’t get the chance to laugh as she turned to me and said that our cell phone was in the bag. Crap. I jumped on the boat and grabbed the boat hook and fished out the bag but not before the phone had been reduced to junk.

Hopefully the alternator will arrive on Friday and our new phone should be here in 2 or 3 days, if so we should be back on our way by Monday or Tuesday.

August 29. In order to hit Barnegat Inlet on an incoming tide we have to arrive before 1300 hours. It’s a little more than an 8 hour trip so as a result we were up and underway at 0345.

It was actually kind of pleasant out with a full moon and virtually unlimited visibility. It was so clear that we didn’t even have to turn on the radar as the moonlight was exceptionally bright.

Another advantage to our early departure was the complete absence of fishermen on the water. Usually the area inside Sandy Hook is very crowded with clammers and small fishing boats, this morning we were alone.

The only boat traffic of any concern was a large ocean going tug that was pushing a crane barge into Raritan Bay as we were making the turn at the Hook to head out. After determining which way he was headed and exactly what we were looking at we stayed just outside the channel and our passing went perfectly.



Christy enjoys a sunrise at sea.

The wind was virtually non- existent so we were forced to motor all the way to Barnegat on the glassy seas. As part of our pre-trip checklist we check all the fluid levels. I was surprised to find out that the fuel tank we have been running on was still about half full (not half empty). I figured that we’ve had so many pure sailing days lately that this must account for our miserly fuel consumption. This will allow us to arrive in Forked River with one tank full and the other with more than a quarter full.

About 3 miles from Barnegat Inlet Christy said that she just heard the motor slow down. I checked the tachometer and our boat speed and find nothing different than it had been all morning. I dismiss it as Christy having gone deaf from the 0345 start.

Two minutes later the engine died. We quickly turned ninety degrees to port and unrolled the genoa. There was about 3 knots of wind and Veranda slowly started to head offshore to get us some sea room as I started to diagnose the problem. I was in the engine room and Christy yelled down that we’re probably just out of fuel. I know we can’t be as I checked the levels last night but it would be the easiest problem for us to overcome so I recheck the tank mounted gauge. Empty. Dead empty. The needle must have been stuck at half full the night before, I knew that our fuel consumption had been a little to good to be true.

It was a simple matter to switch over to the other tank which was full and bleed the air out of the fuel delivery system. About 8 minutes after the engine quit we were back up and underway headed for the Inlet.

I was practically sick to my stomach thinking about the tough place we would have been in if we had run out of fuel a half hour later. We would have been in the inlet with not enough wind to maneuver in the current. We would have had to drop the hook and we would have been alright but it’s an experience I can happily live without.

On the other hand a giant positive revealed itself to me. My first thought was we had wrapped something around the propeller and I hadn’t considered fuel starvation as we “knew” we had plenty for today’s trip. Christy was as calm as Gandhi and thought of the simplest probable cause of our loss of power. She didn’t know it was coming, she didn’t have time to plan and she nailed it. Yep, I’m wearing her down.

August 28. We had to negotiate the currents in Hell Gate this morning on our way down to Atlantic Highlands.

It looked as if the best time to get to Hell Gate would be between 1030 and 1115. We slipped our mooring and motored slowly out of Manhasset Bay at 0845. We arrived at the Gate at 1040 and were treated to a pleasant ride with over a knot push down to the Battery. Then the tide built and we got 2 knots all the way to the Verrazano Bridge.

It was finally a sunny day and the city looked beautiful from the water. The harbor was full of tugs and barges, ferries, water taxis and big ships. The trip was uneventful and over quickly as we arrived in Atlantic Highlands, N.J. by 1400 hours.

We are safely anchored here behind the seawall. We’ll spend an extra day here to await a more favorable tide at our next port of call, Barnegat Inlet.

Sitting here is the Flying Pig, whose crew, Skip & Lydia we had met down in Marathon. They’ve just gotten up here to the northeast to await Lydia’s mom who is flying in from England to join them for a little traveling with them on their boat.

The Flying Pigs came over to the Veranda and spent a few hours catching up with each others exploits. Once again it was a wonderful evening during which we were treated to yet another beautiful Atlantic Highlands sunset. Seriously.

We spent a good part of the next day visiting with the Flying Pigs as well as getting the ten cent tour of their boat. We were both envious of the storage they have on their Morgan 46 footer. Their V-berth is completely empty, enough said. If my Mom were to visit us on our boat she’d have to sleep with the sewing machine on top of the bicycles in our V-berth.

Skip and Lydia are just another example of the couples that we’ve met on the water that seemed as if we had been friends for years, and we probably will be. After a few hours we headed back to the Veranda to turn in a little early to get some extra rest in anticipation of tomorrow’s early departure. The moon rising over the Flying Pig.

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.