Out of the Frying Pan….

Ha, I know what your thinking, but its only partially right. We left Manhattan on Thursday Morning at 09:00. We were motoring against the tide knowing that when we got to the marina that could pump our blackwater tank, that we would be at slack water, and then we would have an outgoing tide to take us down to Sandy Hook, NJ.

Serena was in pretty rough shape. She had gotten over her food poisoning, for the most part, but her back was spasming, and she was in a lot of discomfort. On top of that we were a little nervous about transiting New York harbour. Well, our timing was perfect, and other than some really rough water caused by water taxis and ferries, the trip was a breeze.

This is the lower tip of Manhattan. A rather spectacular skyline.

And this was one of the tour boats, causing just as much wake as the taxis and ferries.

We motor-sailed past the Statue of Liberty. There were tour boats full of people getting dropped off every few minutes, it was packed. And they have a security zone around Liberty Island that keeps personal boats like ours out. However, we were there, the traffic avoided us for the most part. They move faster, and they don’t want to hit us anymore than we want to get hit.

These babies, on the other hand, are not likely to get out of your way. The Staten Island Ferries, are big, fast, run both ways, and do not move over. We got caught between two of them, one going and one coming. We just paralleled a course between them until we could turn behind the one coming. We got waked all to hell for our ignorance. But we never felt like we were in danger.

Anyway, another victory, we made it through New York harbour, and now know that it is something we can easily accomplish again; when the time comes. The rest of the day was rather euphoric, having slayed the beast, how could things go wrong. We filled up with fuel when we got down to the Atlantic Highlands in Sandy Hook NJ, knowing that the next day we were headed offshore. Then we anchored in a little bay called, horseshoe cove. The winds had picked up, but they were out of the north, so we were very protected. So we thought!! We had a great afternoon, a few beers, a nap, and Serena got some badly needed rest. And then about supper time all hell broke loose. The waves started coming in from the west, contrary to the wind and tide, and it kept up all night. It was so demoralizing after such a great day, and an escape from the horrible anchorage in Manhattan. We got the crap pounded out of us, very little sleep, too rough to cook, it was just bad. Serena was pretty much in tears the whole night from her back, and it was looking like we were going to need to find a place to hold over for a few days so that she could recuperate. Which would mean we would lose the great weather window we had for making the offshore run to Cape May. Finely about 2;00 in the morning she took some of her “knock-me-out” pills, and managed to get some sleep. In the morning she was late waking, due to the pills, and I figured we would find a place to hide, but she had decided that she wanted to get this done while we had the window, despite being in poor shape; what a trooper, nuts, but a trooper none-the-less. So by the time I had the boat ready to go, it was 10:00, and the tide was going out, great, a little boost. What I didn’t consider was that we had a northeast wind, which created a wind vs tide condition, something you never want to get caught in, and ….. we were caught in it. I have never seen anything so nasty in my life. We were 200 feet from shore in 70 feet of water, the outgoing tide was 2 knots, and the wind was blowing about 15 knots. What that did was create waves in the 8 to 10 foot range, straight up. They were like walls of water. Vita would get hit by one and it would throw her bow way up in the air, then another would grab her stern and toss it up in the air, then she would dive straight through the next one. The deck was completely awash with green salty water. Our only saving grace was that we were actually making headway, at 2 knots, the same as the tide, so we knew that eventually we would get through it. However, being that close to shore, with very few alternatives, was a little spooky. Live and learn, tide and wind never mix…

After getting out in the Altlantic though, things started to settle down. Serena got some rest and we motor sailed for awhile until the winds filled in and we had a beautiful 5 hours of beam reach sailing running up and down the big ocean swells, and it was nice to see Vita making love to the sea. By 7:00 at night we were motor-sailing again, and it lasted until the next morning at 8:00 when we entered Cape May Harbor. Total, 22 hrs, average 5.3 knots, and we never strayed more than about 14 km from the shore, staying at about the 10 km mark most of the time, just outside most of the crab pots, but inshore of the major shipping lanes. I let Serena spend most of the day laying down, and I woke her at midnight to take a watch while I got some badly needed sleep. I took 3 ½ hours when she woke me to tell me that she had run out of line. I was confused for a bit, until I realized that it was the waypoints on the chart plotter, I had only put enough in to get us past Atlantic City, when I expected to be up again for a course change. We spent the rest of the night, and the sunrise in the cockpit together, freezing our buns off, man it was cold.

This is our little friend Sam. He joined us for a while when we were sailing. He hopped all over the boat, even landing on Serena a couple of times, and then Serena had to go down below, pick him up, and escort him back outside. I was laying down for a little nap, and she didn’t think that I would appreciate a bird down below pooping on the charts.

He was kind enough to clean up all the dead flies that I was killing. We picked up some kind of biting fly when we hit salt water, and I had been killing them with a fly swatter. And to think, I laughed at Serena when she bought them for the boat. But Sam enjoyed the energy boost and a drink before heading off again.

When you look out and all you see is water. It was pretty cool. Neither of us were concerned with the offshore part. We knew the dangers, even if we didn’t really understand them, but we were careful about watching for weather that would make the trip easy, and it worked. The seas were 2 – 4 feet, high, but every now then we would have a couple of waves in the 6-8 foot range, and then there were the odd ones that would sneak up on us, and I can remember looking over the lifelines at a 10-12 foot drop. But no matter how big they got, they just seemed to lift Vita up, and gently set her back down again.

The waves at night were the weird ones. You couldn’t see them, you could just feel them. They were the same, and the action was the same, but with no visual reference. And the deeper we got, the bigger the waves seem to be. Also, being the first night after a new moon, the only light we had was from the shore, over 10 kms away, and the stars. Plus the phosphorescence, that was neat. I am not sure the science behind it, but some creatures in the water give off a florescent glow when they are disturbed, so Vita moving through the water created a nice light show.

By morning we were glad to see the end though. Tired, and burnt out, we wanted food and a nap. I was calling around to the various marinas when my cell phone revolted and dove for the water. So much for a nap. Run around looking for a new cell phone, get some lunch, do some shopping, buy some charts, and boat parts. Sundowners on our new friend Ron’s 40' aluminum hulled schooner, nice boat. Blog, and head out tomorrow first thing to tackle the Delaware bay. After this, it’s a nice long break.

For those behind us, the Corinthian Yacht club is $1.50 per foot, but I think you anchor anywhere in there waters for free, and dinghy to their dock for showers. The water is a little thin though. About 5 ½’. Utsch is a nice marina at $2.00 a foot, the others are very expensive.