Well...I Never Did Stop in Ocean City That Night

The last you heard from me, I was planning on going to Ocean City.  The problem was that we got there about an hour before sunrise, and the entrance to the harbor was very tricky: narrow and shallow.  So rather than a) risk the entry or b) hang out and wait for daylight, we pressed on.  We finally arrived in Chesapeake Bay at 3 am the next morning.  By the time we dropped anchor near Little Creek in Willoughby Bay, I was literally falling asleep standing up.

I was solo sailing since Maggie was in Toronto, so I found it very difficult getting any quality sleep since it was all so new an experience for me.  As it turned out, I probably got about 4 hours sleep in 3 days.  But when I finally hit the sack, I slept the sleep of the dead.

We had made it to a safe harbor refuge near Norfolk, where the U.S. has its major eastern naval base.  I was surprised at how close I was allowed to get to the ships.  One really feels the might of the U.S. military as you pass by the yards in Norfolk and Portsmouth. 

These are just a couple of the ships that I saw.  Damn stinkpots!

REBOOT taking a  run at a U.K. warship

U.S. fighting trimaran

One heavy bird

From this point, we had decided to follow the ICW.  We chose to take the Dismal Swamp route.  It is straight, narrow, shallow and 45 miles long.  It is long and boring and what's worse is that you can not trust your autopilot to steer you straight in the narrow channel, so you have to hand steer all the way.  For Roger and I as solo sailors, there is no relief from the helm and no where to stop and take a break, a leak or a snack.  Of course, you can try to aim the boat, lock the wheel and do a quick scramble.  It works, but just barely.

This is what the canal is like for miles

There are a couple of canals and lift bridges that must be timed correctly, which we failed to do.  So, in order to make the last bridge lift at South Mills so that we could tie up on the wall in the canal, we had to run at 7 knots (engines not far from red line) for over an hour.  H2OBO draws 5.5', loaded the way she is probably a couple inches more.  When you are gunning your engine, the stern sinks down a little more.  So now I am probably drafting 5'9", travelling at over 7 kts. with 1 to 2 feet of water showing under the keel.  Every once in a while (15 times but who is counting) I would bump something.  Later I was told they were logs and that there are no rocks to hit, but at the time I was sweating bullets recalling the damage we did to the keel when we hit the rock in Tangier Bay while only making 1.5 kts.

Right now I am swinging on the anchor in New Bern, NC.  Maggie is flying in from Toronto this weekend, and then we will head for Beaufort, NC, to stage for a offshore passage farther on down the coast.  I have been using the down time for some maintenance and repairs.  But mostly I am just taking it easy.

The days are warm, the nights are cool.  How are things where you are?

A Strange but Beautiful Life

Wow, where to begin? It is midnight and I am motoring south with REBOOT bound for Ocean City. The sun set into a red sky and the sliver of a crescent moon rose to take its place. The sky is coal black, and the stars are shining their hearts out. As we left Atlantic City astern at dusk, its pink lights made it appear as if it bloomed right out of the ocean. As I watched I noticed a large fireworks display going off somewhere near the city. Maybe it is because I am sleep deprived but it all just seems so beautiful, I have to stop and reflect on how lucky we are to be living our lives this way. And "this way" can be pretty strange. For example...
The last time I blogged we were in New Bedford. Well we left there at 7 pm and sailed for Groton in the distinguished company of REBOOT and POWMIA. Along the way we encountered heaving seas in 30 kt winds and a passage through a place called The Race. On one side of The Race is Fisher Island and rocks on the other side only a few hundred yards away (but it seems like feet), and the whole Atlantic Ocean seems to want to squeeze through it during the tidal cycle. We got there at dark, the tidal current running with us, the wind against us, and the seas standing. The engine was revving, Maggie was at the helm, and I was on the deck taming the sails. It was ... exciting. We arrived in Groton at 9 am, tied up to the dock, had several drinks with our traveling companions, then went to bed at 2pm. I woke up at 6pm with a slight hangover, watched a couple of movies with Maggie and then went to bed - again. Not a typical day - unless you cruise.

Along the East River

When we left Groton, we sailed overnight down Long Island Sound. A gentle beam reach all the way down took us to our next anchorage in Hempstead Harbor. There, Maggie disembarked for a trip back to Toronto, so now it was just Sophie and me. Meanwhile, POWMIA took off on his own because he did not want to wait. After a couple of nights at anchor, REBOOT and H2OBO departed for New York Harbor. The trip took us down the East River with Manhattan to starboard. With Roger, a native New Yorker, as my tour guide on the VHF, the trip was magical. (Sorry you missed it, Maggie.)

Obligatory shot of Lady Liberty

Once we got out into the harbor, we just kept right on going with the intention to make it to Atlantic City and to get past the New Jersey coast as soon as possible. The weather did not hold up and we were sailing close to the wind, so we cut in toward the coast and Barnegat Bay Inlet. We dropped anchor in the lee of the break wall that sticks out into the ocean at around 1:30 am and crashed.
Up at dawn after a few hours of sleep, we set off for Cape May, which forms the eastern side of the entrance to Delaware Bay. We were thinking that we would round the corner and head up the bay, through the C&D canal, which goes to the top of the Chesapeake Bay. This detour adds 150 nm. to the trip but avoids going outside in the ocean, and the weather has not really been favorable for offshore passage making. En route, the winds died, the engines came on and we changed plans, again.
We motored right past the Delaware Bay, and as I write this at 1 am, we are 5 hours away from Ocean city where we will drop anchor and get some rest - maybe. It is after all, only 70 miles further to Norfolk where we plan to stop for a few days to get some rest and take care of some stuff.
At sea, I use the short wave radio to down load weather data, email, post blogs and even have a chat with my mom via a patch to a land line provided by a kind and helpful ham radio operator. It is slower that broadband internet, so I will have to add pictures later.
I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring, but whatever it is I say "Bring it".

DENIED....Again!

Provincetown, Cape Cod

The fickle hand of the weather gods slammed shut the weather window on us again as we motored our way into the wind towards Groten.  The forecast changed and called for thunderstorms and gales blowing 45 knots.  Fortunately, New Bedford, the old and historic whaling town of Moby Dick fame, was conveniently near us when we decided to make for its safe harbour.

Sailing to New Bedford

Now we wait on a mooring for the wind to slacken so that we can motor over to the customs dock and check in and, finally, get off the boat.  We have not set foot on terra firma for six days because we have been flying the quarantine flag and will do so until customs checks us in.

Hurricane wall  with gate, New Bedford

We can not wait to explore New Bedford.  It is a thriving fishing port and an actual hurricane hole with a large wall across the harbour entrance and a gate that closes against a storm surge.  There is also the famous whaling museum and all kinds of sea going vessels to see.  But it will have to wait until tomorrow because the wind is blowing too hard to motor over to the customs dock.