You've got to be kidding me!

Deb left early Sunday morning to catch her plane back to the big smoke.  After dropping her off at the dock I went back to Island Eclipse and began prepping the boat for our departure.  We had to leave at high tide to clear the bar on the way out, and although we'd had planned on leaving on the morning high tide, we pushed it to later so we'd arrive in Cape May after sunrise.

We took the Auto Catain route the navionics programmed, and although I reviewed the course before leaving it was far more cavalier than I had realized.  It was more akin to a course laid with local knowledge, not simply a straight line between buoys.  We headed south-east through a narrow path of  deep water just a stone's throw from shore, being sure to follow the course to the letter.  We made our way towards Sandy Hook New Jersey, crossing the outer harbour with the wind on our nose and the sun set at our backs.

New York, as big as it is, disappeared surprisingly quickly behind us, just a dim glow in the darkness, an almost distant memory as we focused on the trip ahead.  Henry took some gravol early into the trip, so he was out like a light by midnight.  He refused to leave the cockpit so I brought up his blanket and tethered him to the boat.  As we made our way down the coast the wind slowly shifted to the west and although I would have enjoyed the sail it just wasn't in me to do it alone.  The quartering seas would have made the boy sick so I let him sleep and motored on.  There's not much to see on the Jersey coast at night, but Atlantic City did give pause to the monotony of the trip,  You can't miss the bright lights and big buildings in the night sky some twenty or more miles away.  The pomp and pageantry of Atlantic City along with the auto Captain Route had me wide awake at 4:00am, The course took us closer to shore than I ever would have on my own, zig zagging us down the coast in some skinny water.  I wasn't concerned at all, just a bit anxious at times.  The depth never dropped below 15', I would have rather have had thirty is all.  

By the time we reached Cape May some 15 hours later the seas had subsided and Henry was up and at'em.  The entrance to Cape May harbour was easy to navigate, well boyed with lots of water.  We dropped the hook just east of the Coast Guard station in 15' of water and a fairly stiff breeze.  We were the fourth boat in the anchorage so we had lots of room to stake our claim,  The Gentleman on the Cape Dory next to us gave me the impression that he and the other boats we'd joined had been there for a while.  The other Canadian boat in the mix, still had his mast on deck.  He vacated the anchorage soon after we arrived only to return an hour or so later, tripping the Cape Dories anchor rode, tangling the two boats together.  The wind continued to build as the two captains fended off each other's boats in an attempt to right the wrong that had been committed.  Fortunately the effort was not in vain and the two boats parted ways, the Cape Dory held fast and the wing nut with his mast on deck found a quiet spot much further away.  We headed to bed early that night as we'd be off at first light in order to make it to the C&D Canal before dark.

6am came quickly Tuesday morning, I left Henry to sleep as I fired up Fred and pulled the hook, I wanted to get out as soon as possible so I put my decaf tea in a thermos to drink on the way .  It was another beautiful sunny day as we headed out, a thin layer of salt dew covered the boat, and the smell of the ocean filled the air.  Although we live on Island Eclipse all year round it's not the same as the ocean, there are no tides on the lakes and for whatever reason there is no smell.  Sure the air is fresh but it really doesn't have any aquatic smell at all.

                                     

The Auto Captain chose another cavalier route I wasn't comfortable with that skirted the coast of the cape through an area charted as dangerous waters between sunset and sundown?  What does that mean and why is the Auto Captain determined to take us there?  All good questions for another day, instead I head out to skirt the shipping lanes in deep, deep water.  Yes it added two hours to the trip but I left early enough that it didn't matter..  Once again the wind was on the ..... yep you guessed it, the nose.  So we chugged up Delaware Bay at 6.5 knots...6 knotts.  5.5 knots...  The tide, the current and the wind were all on the nose and although we were making way the conditions became more challenging.  The depth slowly began to drop as the coasts of New Jersey and Delaware reached out into the bay.  The seas grew suddenly, the waves were confused, steep and stacked.  Henry arrived in the cockpit soon after our first volley of three big waves in a set.  He'd been thrown up into the air on his bed,  crashing down not where he'd been sleeping but on to his bed rail.  With a look of angst on his face he asked what was going on and I just pointed out ahead of us and said "That" as we crashed headlong into another set.  I asked him if we should slow down and he thought not, I should have just done it, but I also wanted the rough seas to be over for Henry's sake so we pushed on...  That proved to be a bad idea as the boat got swallowed by the third wave in the next set all the way up to the cockpit.  The wave didn't roll over us, we went through it, the decks flooded and the bilge pump cycled immediately.  I ran downstairs to assess the situation as Henry slowed the boat.  Water had flooded the anchor locker through the two hause pipes for the anchor chain, the volume exceeded the drain's capacity so the forward portion of the main salon and Henry's room was awash.  I opened the floor hatches to drain the water and headed up on deck to somehow stop the ingress of water into the boat.  A couple of plastic bags and elastic bands helped stop the deluge allowing me to start the task of cleaning up.  

The seas went as quick as they came, by the time I'd sopped up most of the water and emptied the bilge the Bay was flat once again.  The trip ended up taking us twelve hours, sun up to sun down so we dropped the anchor in a quiet part of water behind the jetty for the C&D canal.  The jetty kept us out of the tide and current shooting down the Bay at 2-3 knots.

It had been a long couple of days so we got moving around 10am, headed for Chesapeake city our day was going to be short so the late start didn't really matter, or so we thought.  Upon arriving at our destination we found a city it was not.  It was a lagoon with houses, a marina and only 5' of water, since we needed six and a half feet to float. Chesapeak city just wasn't going to do it.

We pushed on until just before dark, were we ventured off the beaten path and dropped the hook in Still Pond, a small protected anchorage on the east side of Chesapeake Bay.  Henry raised the alarm bell shortly before we arrived at our parking spot.  "The stove won't work"  I checked the panel and the propane solenoid fuse had popped.   When Henry checked the propane locker it was full of salt water from our stint as a submarine, and fried the solenoid.  He pumped it out, and I changed the fuse but I'm afraid a working stove just wasn't in the cards tonight so a barbeque it would be.  After much cafufle we had something to eat and called it  a day.  Tomorrow would be the final leg of this part of the journey, Annapolis Maryland!  

I had us on the move by 9am, leaving Henry in bed as usual.  With no propane to make my tea getting off to a quick start wasn't a problem,  the seas had a small chop to them but it was still fairly flat.  I dodged crab pounds on the way out of the anchorage as I headed towards the marked channel.  It was going to be a shorter day today, in by 4pm was the goal but we ran out of fuel three hours short of our destination.   Not a big deal as we have another 50 gallons on deck, just a pain in the neck to fill and bleed the system at sea.  Checking and topping up the fuel  was on the short list for today's chores, just not at the top.  I added t0 gallons to get us by for the day, Henry kept us pointed into the seas while I worked, it wasn't long before Fred was back up and running and we were on our way again.  The wind slowly shifted to the beam and although I was sooo jealous watching others sail I was desperate to call it a day and take a break.  We ended up arriving just before the 4pm bridge opening allowing us to sail in and grab a mooring ball well before it went dark.   We walked up to the local grocery store to pick up some much needed essentials but to my surprise the prices were higher than Manhattan.  We bought the bare minimum and took a cab back to the boat

                                        

I took advantage of the showers and the laundry today, getting caught up on both.  By the time I got back the boat it had started to rain, giving me a chance to take a break before cycling with Henry down to the WestMarine to source all the parts we needed.  Although West Marine was a bust for all but 2 stroke oil we did find solace in the Mcdonalds next door despite the rain we'd got caught in.  Our ride home was less than fantastic, the rain had gotten heavy and my wet glasses made it hard to see.  I passed through a puddle hiding a curb stone, the front wheel stopped suddenly sending me, my backpack and 3 gallons of 2 stroke oil over the handlebars.  I was able to land on the side walk away from traffic and a passerby was out of his truck offering me assistance before I even had a chance to get up.  Other than my pride, my hands and my new ******* jacket I was fine.  We walked the bikes the rest of the way to the dingy, soaked and beaten up.

I kept saying throughout the summer that if the prep didn't kill me the trip would be great.  The prep didn't but the trip might,   We also got word that our insurance for Cuba fell through so we've called an audible at the line and shifted our sights to Bahamas.  Fortunately for sailors it's the trip not just the destination, and although it's definitely been discouraging at times, we've passed Rubicon, the canal is closed and there's no going home.  For now, we make our repairs, stock up on supplies and keep heading south.  Because that's what explorers do, they keep going in spite of the hardship and the challenges.  It's the hardship and perseverance that make the story worth reading.  "I made it all the way without any issues" doesn't quite grip the reader quite like "Every day was a near death experience"!

We've not reached that level of intensity, nore do we hope to, but in the end we might, because anything can happen, at any time, at any place.  The key is being prepared!!

We put 70 gallons of fuel in Island Eclipse before leaving Castleton on The Hudson two weeks ago and we've traveled roughly 500 miles in 65 hours since.  Three days in Annapolis then up the Potomac to Washington DC for the week before heading to Beaufort South Carolina.  But for today, it's back to work.

Thanks for reading.

Writen Oct 25, sorry for the late update.