October 2017

In which we do not stray very far from Annapolis. 

We started October anchored in Harness Creek, Maryland. A very pleasant spot and, as there was no wind, we sat enjoying the view just having a daily walk through Quiet Waters Park for a little light shopping or laundry. On Wednesday 3^rd, we picked up anchor and motored the few miles up the South River to Liberty Yacht Club to take water (and a little diesel for politeness sake) then into Crab Creek. We had recently joined the Ocean Cruising Club, one of the benefits of which is that some kind members permit the use of their private facilities by others so, in this very sheltered spot we had a good landing spot for the dinghy, courtesy of Port Officer Gemma Nachbar. On Wednesday, we visited the Naval Academy – the primary training ground for U.S. navy officers officers. All very impressive and with an interesting museum attached. In the evening, we attended a dinner for OCC members and met several cruisers with whom we had previously only had electronic contact. Unfortunately our lift-giver wanted an early departure so even we, not noted for our sociability or late hours, left earlier than we would have chosen.

Elsie dreaming of an Oyster

It was boat show time in Annapolis and we decided to attend 2 days – preview Thursday and public day Friday. First priority was getting replacement batteries for our exhausted house bank and we found a probable supplier just inside the gate. After that, we had a grand day wandering round the pontoons and looking round the boats. Some, genuine interest for if we decide to upgrade: New Dufour, Elan, Halsberg Rassey) or go ‘flat’ (Leopard, Lagoon). Others, just to drool (Gunfleet, Oyster, Swan). Friday was more spent looking at possible bits of kit: dinghies; outboards, including electric; water makers etc. I also splashed out on towing insurance with BoatUS. It seems universal to have coverage here and, as we are expecting to go down the ICW and mudbanks may have moved with recent hurricanes it seemed worth $99 for the re-assurance. At the end of the day, having looked at every other supplier of batteries, we returned to our first stop and ordered 3 AGMs.

One of the smaller exhibits at the Air and Space

Saturday, we headed to D.C. for a long weekend at Susanne’s condo. Public transport is not great in this country, outside cities and the nearest bus stop for Washington was a long walk so we took an Uber. $11. The bus was 20 minutes late, giving us concern that we had missed it and then took a further hour to New Carrolton, the nearest Metro stop. $10 pp = $20. A further hour on 2 metro trains brought us to Bethesda and an easy walk to our accommodation. Elsie was going to pet sit for a few days while I made my periodic visit to Scotland and her hosts had offered us a day out. Fred is a docent (voluntary guide) at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, which was one of my must-sees so we met him and Starla there at 10:00 on Sunday for a ‘highlights’ tour, then over the Potomac for an excellent Thai lunch and a further couple of hours at the A&S at Dulles. They then took us home, on the southern side of the city for Elsie to meet their poodles and provide us with another great meal and, finally a lift back to the Metro where we, by the skin of our teeth, caught the last train home. Monday we took a bus tour of Washington, spending a couple of hours at the Capitol (very slick tour of basement, rotunda and statues), an hour at Arlington (including, of course JFK’s eternal flame and a wreath laying at the unknown soldiers) and 20 minute stops at the Washington monument and Lincoln memorial as well as a good look round the city. We continued this into the evening, stopping at the Vietnam memorial. I hadn’t previously realised quite how this was sited. Are the tapered ends acknowledging Washington and Lincoln or are they accusing fingers?

We were exhausted after 2 days activity and had a late start back to Ruby on Tuesday. Rather than take the bus back from New Carrolton, we took an Uber direct to our dock ($30), saving $1 and over an hour. It was a hot afternoon so we waited until 17:00 to go on a provisioning walk as we were planning on having a few days sailing. On Wednesday, we exchanged our old batteries for new ones and then, as winds were light, decided to just relax.

After 9 days in the same spot, Ruby’s anchor was lifted just before 09:00 on Thursday 12^th and, with 2 reefs in we had a great sail down the Chesapeake in 20 – 25 knots, just behind the beam to the Patuxent River, anchoring in Cuchold Creek just as the rain, which had been threatening all day, started. We intended to continue, on Friday, down to St Mary’s at the mouth of the Potomac. On rising, however, the promised southerlies for the following week had disappeared so, as we needed to get back to Annapolis, we decided to stay locally and just make the little trip to Solomons Island. Engine start and a check on the charging current for our new house bank – 30 amps. Not good, it should be about 70. Investigation of smart charger and battery area showed that I had failed to connect one of the alternator leads. Connected, re-start, still 30 amps and a check of the smart charger -still nothing from auxiliary alternator. Eventually found that, in my earlier investigation, I had broken one of the control wires and, once that was connected all was well. This only delayed us by 2 hours and we got to our new anchorage with an hour of daylight remaining, half of which was taken up by 3 attempts to anchor in the soupy mud. Saturday morning was spent on a little provisioning trip and a couple of water runs. I was not overly happy with our anchor position as the wind was forecast to change to southerly overnight and I was concerned that we might swing a little close to a private dock. The hope was, that with the prevailing northerly, some of our neighbours might decide to head off but they didn’t so, later in the afternoon, we headed ½ a mile downstream to another anchorage.

On Sunday, we started back north, heading across the bay towards Cambridge on the Choptank river. Wind was forecast to gust up to 20 knots, so we left 1 reef in. As we had 10-12 knots most of the way, it was not rapid but we got to our destination, Lecompte Bay, in time for afternoon tea. We had chosen this for its wide space and shelter from the 30 knot southerly gusts expected overnight. I knew that the wind was forecast to change back to northerly the following day but had failed to appreciate how soon this was going to happen and how strong. I woke at 0400 to appreciable wind and wave noise and a glance outside showed that we were facing the other way. The wind was gusting to 25 knots and had a 5 mile fetch to build up swell. We were only ¼ mile from a lee shore and anchored in soupy mud. Time for a swift exit so Elsie got a rude awakening and we heaved up and headed into the weather (it was, by now, also raining). There was a small, snug anchorage about 1 ½ miles away but I didn’t fancy going there in the dark, not knowing if others might already be there so instead we moved from Cambridge to Oxford, 7 miles away, to anchor in another huge bay, this time sheltered from the North. Back to bed at 6 feeling somewhat chastened. The wind continued to blow strongly from the north and we rued that we were forced to return to Annapolis rather than continue our voyage south. We sat Monday out and then continued back north, with lighter winds, on Tuesday. Back down the Choptank, then a slow beat up the Chesapeake, under full sail, into Eastern Bay then a motor up to Shipping Creek on Kent Island for the night. Another lovely suburban anchorage. Wednesday, we motored anti-clockwise to, finally, complete our circumnavigation of Kent Island, timing our passage of the bascule bridge to make the 12:30 opening. Once past the shallows, we hoisted full sail and had a good beat back down to Annapolis, anchoring just outside the harbour for the night.

We were here to finally collect our new mainsail, ordered back in August. Ever since the measurements were taken in Salem, I had been trying to find out exactly what dimensions had been ordered. I eventually got a response, after it had been manufactured and shipped, with all of the main dimensions being slightly out: both luff and foot 10 cms too short; leech 20 cms too long. The local service manager, Jeff, had agreed to bring it out for a fitting, so we were here in hope, if not in expectation. Jeff brought the sail out on Thursday and, as we had feared, the boom hung too low. There were also other discrepancies with the fittings for reefs and the batten cars. We took our old sail back to his loft for re-measuring and it bore out my figures. Not unreasonably, Jeff sloped his shoulders and our original salesman in Rhode Island agreed to take charge of the adjustments. The anchorage was pretty rolly, being exposed both to weather from the east and all the traffic in and out of the harbour so, with no great plans for the next few days, we elected to motor the 10 miles back to Harness Creek, just going up ‘Ego Alley’ to top up the water before departure. Harness Creek was even more peaceful than before, with the inner anchorage completely deserted so we anchored right next to the dinghy dock and scuttled ashore for a little provisioning.

Obligatory monthly sunset shot.

On Friday, we did our laundry and re-filled the cooking propane bottle; Saturday, decided to take advantage of the big machines in the Laundrette and also washed our thicker duvet (a bit smelly, having been in a locker for the last year) and the cushion covers from the salon. We were a bit concerned that these might not stand up to a machine wash but some of them were distinctly grubby. Our fears proved groundless and they came up well. Other little jobs done: replacing the tell-tales on the genoa and fitting a step on the mast to make fitting the sail cover easier. The Creek filled up during the day with many individual boats and a couple of rafts: 5 Motor boats swinging on one hook and 7 sailing boats together next to us. We assumed that this was just for the afternoon but the beers were broken out and the settled in for the night. They obviously had great faith in the weather forecast, which gave light airs overnight and it proved to be just so. Sunday, we motored back up to Annapolis, this time taking a mooring buoy in the main harbour. We chose one close to the dock for ease of access, figuring that it was worth putting up with the Sunday afternoon traffic.

It was now time for my periodic trip back to Scotland so, on Sunday afternoon, Elsie gave me a lift to the dock and an Uber ride to Baltimore airport. I spent the week seeing various medical people and visiting my children; Elsie spent most of hers in Washington, dog sitting, visiting galleries and socialising.

I returned on Monday 30^th, with the news that our mainsail had been modified to fit so we waited with bated breath on Tuesday for Jeff to arrive with it. It was a better fit but still lacked a couple of reefing blocks, a luff slide and a couple of other things so away it went again, leaving us sitting on a buoy with a perfect wind to take us down the Chesapeake blowing through the rigging. Obviously, the forecast gave us no hope of further such wind for the foreseeable future. Frustration!

Monthly distance: 185

September 2017

In which we make our way slowly, and with some trepidation, back to the Chesapeake.

September opened with Ruby and Lionel in Newport, Rhode Island and Elsie in Scotland.

On the 1^st, I did my first ever solo voyage with Ruby. We had anchored at the edge of the mooring field but, with our scope of 35 metres, we were swinging to within 10 metres of a long-term resident (even though the harbour rules state a maximum stay of 2 weeks). Stronger winds were forecast for later in the week so I took the opportunity of a quiet spell to pick up, move the anchor 20 metres and re-lay it with 45 metres out. Sounds easy but, as the navigation and driving is done from one end of the boat and the anchor handling from the other, it was an interesting little challenge and I was pleased when it went smoothly. I then looked at the longer range forecast and was alarmed to see that, in 10 days’ time, hurricane Jose was predicted to come close, giving 70 knot gusts. Weather watch was going to be an obsession for the next few weeks.

Schooner in Newport.

I did a longer solo voyage on the 4^th, taking Ruby 15 miles up Narrangasett Bay to Apponaug, taking a marina berth for the night as Elsie was flying back into Providence airport and late night trips in the dinghy didn’t seem like a good idea. All went well though, with variable winds, I motored most of the way. I took a taxi to the Airport, arriving at the scheduled ETA of the flight and was just settling down for the 2 hour wait expected for U.S. border procedures when Elsie appeared. The flight had been 30 minutes early and immigration had been a breeze. This gave us time to discuss other breezes and think about our medium term plans. Ruby still hadn’t had had her haul out and was slowing down with barnacles on her bottom; if strong winds were forecast, Newport would be a good place to sit them out; we were at a friendly, affordable marina / boatyard. In the morning, I had a word with the manager and yes, they could fit us in; we could stay on board and do our own work. They were busy today, Tuesday; Wednesday looked wet but Thursday had high tide (needed for shallow water at the boat lift) at 09:00 with fine weather so we made it a plan to lift her then, putting her back on Friday or Saturday.

Elsie had, by this time, not sailed for 10 days and was getting withdrawal symptoms so we left Apponaug and headed back to Newport. It was calm in the marina but our forecast said it was F4 – 5 outside so we put in 2 reefs. The forecast was correct and we had a spirited beat down river. With 4 miles to go, the wind increased to F6, so we put in the 3^rd reef. The tide also turned against us so it was a slow (over the ground) finish but it blew away the cobwebs. Back into our now familiar anchorage and a quick dinghy ashore to top up on food essentials and some supplies for the work on Ruby’s bottom, getting back on board 30 minutes before a thunderstorm hit. Having had 5 – 10 knots more wind than ideal on the way down the river, the following day going the other way had 5- 10 knots too little and we ghosted up in a F3 to anchor off Goddard Memorial State Park. A wide open anchorage and we took the opportunity to reverse roles and let Elsie do the driving. The anchor failed to bite, first time, so she had a second shot.

Out she comes

We arrived at the boat-lift on the dot of 9 on Thursday to find them ready for us. The lift went smoothly but, as it was a small hoist, we had to reverse in to clear the forestay. This left our wind generator the wrong side of the cross beam and, once in position, it had to come down. An easy job using an ancient, wheezing, scissor lift. The yard pressure washed the bottom and it was then down to us. We anticipate coming out again next summer and were using paint that was well over its shelf life so I didn’t go mad on the rubbing down, just making sure that it was clean where the lifting slings had been, there were no rough spots and no barnacle remains. Now for the paint. If you look back 27 months, you will see that we had had to buy a 25 litre tin in Rhu and had been carrying 10 litres with us ever since. This was stored in 2 fuel cans in a plastic box in our big locker and I had inverted them a couple of times over the last few weeks hoping to unsettle any sediment. On opening the first can, I poured out a litre of light brown fluid, then a litre of dark brown sludge, leaving 3 litres of solids in the bottom. Please, Mr yard manager, where can I buy some more paint? At any other yard I have visited, this would have been answered with: I can get you paint, at a price or a shrug of ‘not my problem’ but Barry, bless him, not only said that mine was probably recoverable but produced an electric stirrer and bucket and then proceeded to help me, both with the initial stir and the inevitable clean up. It took an hour of slicing open cans, scraping them out and stirring, using up 90% of my cleaning up fluid as thinners but, by 13:00, I had 10 litres of what looked like suitable paint. 6 hours, and 1½ coats later, I was down to 2 litres, well spattered and aching so called it a night. Elsie, meanwhile, had been attacking the waterline, which had a brown stain from our stay in Long Island Sound. This reacted well to her ministrations and, with a coat of wax the following morning came up almost like new. The team came round early on Friday, to move the props, so that I could paint where they had rested against the hull. That done, new anodes on the propeller and a couple of other minor bits and pieces and we were ready to go. We needed at least half tide for re-launch but, even with re-fitting the wind generator, we made it with 30 minutes to spare and headed back down the river to Newport, this time with a civilised 10-15 knots of wind, to anchor once again in our, by now, familiar spot.

Bottom painting

We were still actively monitoring hurricanes. Irma was now battering the Caribbean and heading towards mainland America. Jose was circling Bermuda and looked like being a bigger problem for us. Newport would be a very safe place to sit it out but all models showed that it was unlikely to come ashore in the New York area so we decided to proceed with caution. On Saturday, there was forecast to be a NW’ly F3, so we had a prompt start and headed down to Block Island. The wind started as forecast and we made good progress under main and Cruising Chute but it died with 5 miles to go so we finished up motoring. The anchorage was much less crowded than it had been a couple of months earlier so we found a good spot and only afterwards noticed that we were close to ‘Ocean Diamond’ FB friends of Elsie. We caught up with them later, on going ashore in the dinghy. The island itself was a so-so tourist place, but we enjoyed a walk and a little top-up on provisions. Sunday morning looked promising, so another 07:00 call and off we went back towards Long Island Sound, with multiple options. The first, at Stonington, would have given us 15 miles of progress, but, for once, the wind was better than forecast so this was quickly rejected and we adjusted course to pass south of Fishers Island. We managed to catch full flood at the race and, for a while were touching 10 knots over the ground. By 12:00, we had rejected New London; 14:00 Connecticut River and, with the wind finally dying, made it to Duck Island having Achieved 43 miles. Monday, again, was kind to us. On the forecast, we thought that we would not make it past New Haven but a few knots more of wind and a following current helped us back to Port Jefferson. Our luck ran out on Tuesday and, after sitting out a morning calm, we had a very slow sail on port tack up to the Norwalk Islands then starboard back to within 3 miles of Huntington harbour. 24 miles through the water in 6 hours but only 15 achieved over the ground. Wednesday morning was also calm and I decided to change the fuel filters on the main engine, an overdue job which I had only done once before myself. It all went better than expected until I tried to re-prime the lines and found that I was unable to in the approved fashion. After an hour of struggle, I gave up and tried an unapproved method (cranking the engine until it fired) which, fortunately, worked. Wind still failed to materialise, so we upped anchor and moved to within easy dinghy reach of Northport for a walk and a little light shopping, including a very nice gelato.

Sunset, Block Island

Wind was forecast to be better on Thursday afternoon so we picked up and headed out at 11:00. It turned out to be light and variable, giving us very slow progress until Elsie gave up, put the genoa away and started the engine, at which point a steady SW3 sprang up and gave us a very pleasant sail back to Port Washington. ‘Hurricane watch’ suggested that we were unlikely to be heading south of New York for at least a week, giving us the prospect of a relaxed few days. Friday was spent on domestics: Elsie did the laundry and, while it was washing, we stocked up on heavy stuff: beer, fruit juice, milk etc. as the supermarket is close to the dinghy dock. I ran that back back to Ruby while she looked after the drying. On return, I took a slightly more direct route and found a rock with the propeller of the dinghy’s outboard. This sheared the drive pin. We carry a spare but the toolkit was with Elsie, so I had to row back to the dock. On removing the prop, I discovered that both ends of the shear pin had been bent and couldn’t remove it and after half an hour of struggling gave up and started a long row back. Passing a marina, I tried their workshop. With proper tools (big hammer) it took them about 2 minutes for the job – hurrah! We still had more shopping to do: fresh food, a couple of bits from the chandler and maybe a new saucepan or two from a home-wear store, but we were going to be here for days so didn’t bother with the 3^rd run.

Freedom tower

On Saturday, we took the train into NY City and did a self-guided tour of lower Manhattan – the financial district and World Trade Centre. This latter has been very well made over – all the more impressive for being understated, (apart, of course, from the ‘Freedom Tower) not something you necessarily associate with NYC. On the train home, looking forward to a few relaxing days, we discovered that our route through New York was going to be blocked for most of the week, as it passes by the United Nations building and the annual General Assembly was happening. On rising, on Sunday, there looked like a window to travel further south on Wednesday or Thursday which we would miss if we stayed where we were. The worst winds on Tuesday would be 30-35 knots and there were anchorages where we could sit that out. The currents on the East river (important, as the reach over 5 knots) were good for an immediate departure, so a rapid decision was made to go. 5 hours later, we were at anchor near Sandy Hook, poised for a southern transit. Ashore, for provisions, and back. Check on the weather and… all change. Jose was now forecast to come closer, then wander about for a week before returning, closely followed by Maria. No realistic prospect of heading south for at least a week, our current anchorage was not suitable for forecast winds and we we hadn’t got our new saucepans. Up on Monday to re-trace 12 miles we had done the day before and anchor off Coney Island. Not scenic and no facilities but giving good protection. For the exercise, we laid out 2 anchors with plenty of scope – enough for 3 times the wind expected.

Anchorage secure, not scenic.

The wind never rose above 25 knots and we were very comfortable, though the sanitation department upwind of us made it’s presence known. Jose behaved himself and by Wednesday 20^th, we could see a chance to sail down the coast to Delaware bay. We wanted a daylight arrival but it was only about 120 miles so an afternoon departure was planned. We started picking up at 14:00 but our new Fortress anchor had buried itself deeply into heavy mud and, with 20 knots of wind still blowing, lifting it by hand was a tough job, taking the best part of an hour. and not doing my back any favours. We were eventually under way at 15:00 and headed out past Sandy Hook, with just the genoa set as we expected to be downwind all the way. The wind continued Northerly, easing from F5 to F4, giving us 5 – 6 knots, with just more swell than we had become accustomed to in our sheltered sailing over the last few months. We arrived at Cape May at 14:00 on the 21^st and proceeded into the anchorage, only to find it occupied by dredging equipment and made a rapid decision to exit and cross the mouth of the Delaware to the breakwater anchorage at Cape Henlopen. This took another couple of hours but did provide complete shelter just in time for 6 O’Clock drinks.  We wsh to return to the Caribbean for the winter and the wind was perfect for the next leg down to Norfolk, Va but our insurance provides no named storm cover south of 35 North until 1st November so we have another month + to spend in the Chesapeake area. 

Delaware bay is not very yacht friendly and the wind was going to blow straight down it for the next few days so, on the 22^nd, we had a day of motoring. Probably foolishly, we took advantage of the current to travel up in the morning but this gave us wind against tide and an uncomfortable passage. Much of the way we were accompanied by Ocean Diamond 2, who had sat out Jose in Port Washington and then made the journey in one go. By lunchtime, we were fed up and diverted into one of the few available anchorages at Cohansey cove. We had to weave our way in past shallow patches and a profusion of crab pot markers but found a good spot and a comfortable night. The next morning, we left near low water, which made the initial navigation even more interesting but the wind was lighter and we had a much more comfortable motor-sail up to Delaware City. By now, having missed a planned provisioning at Cape May, and not taken water since our haul-out we were running a little short of supplies, so anchored at Delaware and took a cab 8 miles to the nearest supermarket. Back on board and immediately transited the Delaware and Chesapeake Canal, stopping halfway through for fuel and water. The D & C is a full ship sized canal and I was pleased to enter ahead of a tug and tow which had come down the river at 5 knots. Not so pleased once he entered the canal and increased to 9 knots. We pulled over to the side and slowed to let him through. Once clear of the canal, we planned to anchor at Bohemia river. The depth on the chart looked adequate, though there was a warning of shoaling reported over 30 years earlier. These reports proved accurate and we couldn’t find a way to our chosen spot, so had to anchor closer to the main channel than we would have chosen but, once the weekend power boaters had put their toys away, it was quiet enough.

Look behind you!

No wind on Sunday, so a leisurely breakfast then a motor down the Elk river, left hand down a bit and up the Sassafras to Frederick Town. Here we anchored next to Ocean Diamond and settled down for a few days of calm. Monday morning, we took the dinghy ashore and, eventually, found somewhere to leave it at the nearest marina. The lad at the dock was very helpful and pointed out the wash-rooms, laundry, etc. We checked these out on our way and popped into the office, hoping to make friends and, maybe, get an internet key. We wee successful on both counts, the dragon lady informing us clearly that facilities were for marina guests only (not unreasonable for the showers, but the laundry was at commercial rates). As her window overlooked said facilities we had snookered ourselves. So it goes. We did manage to get the internet key from the lad on the dock but it was super-slow. Much of the afternoon was spent assisting Derek, on OD2, cutting a replacement bow-roller to size and re-fitting it. The remainder was spent socially. On Tuesday, we joined Derek and Leanne on a walk to the village of Galena for a little shopping. Since the supermarket owner offered to transport our purchases back to the dinghy, I took the opportunity to buy a couple of cases of beer for the locker. The afternoon was spent in rectifying dinghy propulsion problems. A pip pin had popped out of one of the oars a few weeks earlier, (steel pin corroding aluminium tube). I had found that one and re-fitted it in a new hole. The same now happened with the other oar (failed stitch-in-time) and this time the pin got lost. Derek offered to make a new one, using a suitable bolt but, while running it over to him, the outboard failed. Failure was traced to water in fuel so a gallon of petrol, bought in the Bahamas, was condemned. Elsie gallantly tested the repair by dinghying ashore to dump rubbish and get a couple of cans of water.

Wednesday promised a sailing wind so we lifted anchor at 0850 and managed to sail back down the Sassafras and south down the Elk, to anchor in Worton Creek, finding a large bay to sunbathe in for the warm afternoon. Thursday, we continued towards Kent island. The plan was to pass round the eastern side of this and anchor in prospect bay. Just as we were about to commit to this, I noticed that, at well as a fixed bridge, with 65 ft clearance, there was a bascule bridge with 18 ft. Not knowing opening procedure for this, we shied away and re-planned for somewhere with no access problems. Within 10 minutes, Elsie discovered that the problem bridge opened every 30 minutes but we were now committed the other way. Our new anchorage was in Whitehall bay, in a very up-market suburb of Annapolis. Very scenic and peaceful.

Time for a bit of planning. We are hoping to spend several months in the U.K. next summer and, not having a home there, are thinking of house/pet sitting. To trial this, Elsie had looked to see if anyone wanted this service in the Washington area while I made my periodic trip to Scotland at the end of October. They did! A very nice looking condo, with black lab in Bethesda, 5 miles north of the centre. We got a prompt reply and contacted the owner by phone. It transpired that she had already got someone to cover these dates but would we be available for an earlier weekend? Yes, it would fit nicely with our visit to the Annapolis boat show. She now contacted us again, saying that she had decided to take her dog with her, but would honour her offer to ’fellow sailors’. It didn’t take much thinking to realise that the obvious quid pro quo was an offer of some sailing. We quickly agreed that Saturday looked like a good day and we managed to find a park with a usable dinghy dock for her to join us. Another leisurely sail brought us 5 miles up the South River to Harness Creek, arriving early, to make sure that the arrangement would work. A pleasant walk through the park took us to shops for a little provisioning.

Sussane joined us promptly at 09:00 on Saturday. The wind was light in the creek but forecast to be stronger in the main river, so we put 2 reefs in the main before departure. This proved wise, as it was 20 gusting 25 outside. I was a little concerned, at first, that it might prove a little strong for our guest but she was obviously enjoying it so we sailed close hauled up past the main channel bridges, then broad reached back down to Whitehall bay for lunch. Lunch over, we broad reached back down to the South River, with Susanne hand steering most of the way. A very enjoyable day. And so the month ended with us snug in Harness Creek, with only about 5 miles to go to our next planned spot for the boat show and our trip to Washington D.C.

The wind offshore continues to be from the north, which would give us a good passage down, but we are still limited by insurance cover for another month.

Monthly distance: 564

Hurricane watch. By Elsie

10^th September 2017

Today I am starting our unofficial hurricane watch.

I have watched two major hurricanes come over the Atlantic and hit the Caribbean and USA mainland. It has been painful to watch from a distance. Checking the weather this morning I suddenly realised it might not be from a distance any more. We use four weather models when we are sailing. Grib files are compressed weather files. Predict Wind has been our weather Bible while we crossed the Atlantic and old habits die hard so we still consult the web site on a daily basis. We also use Passage Weather and Wind Finder. It is very difficult to predict the weather along the east coast of America. Cape Hatteras seems to act as an incubator for weather storms and various other points act as catalysts. Therefore, 48 hours seems to be the longest time in which weather can be accurately predicted.

Checking the weather this morning, I realised that three of the four models have hurricane Jose coming North. Oh dear. So, hence the start of the hurricane watch on Ruby Tuesday. Hurricane Jose/Jage seems to wander around the edges of the Caribbean for the next few days then strikes North with a vengance. First of all I should explain. Hurricane Jose has been renamed Hurricane Jage by a couple of very young sailors of our acquaintance. The girls are part of the lovely family who sail Emerald Bay. Jage is the skipper of a Cat who is part of our Whats App Group. He sails with his wife and two adorable children. We all love Jage. He is a plain speaking Scotsman who is always organising a party or clearing up after a party. He thrives on adventure, doesn’t understand the meaning of “can’t”, loves meeting people and we all love him. But, as the girls quite rightly point out he’s a hurricane so Hurricane Jose is now Hurricane Jage.

Back to my hurricane watch, three out of the four models we use daily says the hurricane is coming north. Two of them indicate that it will skirt the USA East Coast and hit Halifax in Canada. One says it will be a direct hit on the New York area. As I have already explained it is very difficult to predict weather here so I am taking the threat seriously. Hurricanes move slowly, maybe 10 to 15 mph which is good when you are waiting for one, not so good when you are experiencing it. It gives you time to prepare, find a hurricane proof anchorage/mooring ball/marina, take all the canvas off the boat and batten down the hatches then find a nice hotel room to watch the storm go by. We have already identified a couple of likely places. The problem is so has everyone else. Do we hurry along and make sure we get a prime space then look stupid when the hurricane changes it path and swings back out to the Atlantic. Or do we take our time and find the place is over crowded and more dangerous because of that and put Ruby in danger of being damaged by other boats as well as the winds.

At the moment we are making our way sedately along Long Island Sound towards Port Washington or Atlantic Highlands. We have a week to ten days before the potential winds reach here. I’ll keep you posted if we have made the correct decision or not.

11^th September

Update of my Hurricane Jage watch. So far so good. We are about 30 miles from our “safe” place and should be there by tomorrow or Wednesday depending if the wind blows. Remember, I’m Scottish and old habits die hard, why use costly fuel when you can be propelled by free wind. The weather forecast is saying it will be breezy (30 – 40 mph) next Monday and Tuesday but that’s the worst scenario. We have seen worse on the West coast of Scotland but we are still taking no chances. I think a nice wee rest in Port Washington will do us both good – get the washing done and stock up with vital food stuff for the cellar and of course a few more visits into New York. The wind will bring torrential rain for those two days but Ruby does need a wash and my sister in law gave me loads of books so we’ll just hunker down and keep dry.

Everything looks far more positive tonight. I might get a decent nights sleep.

12^th September 2017

Day 3 of Hurricane Jage watch. The weather models now have Hurricane Jage wandering about aimlessly until the weekend then heading North. The most the New York area will get is about winds of 35mph, which we are used to coping with. In fact I think the UK will get worse winds than this area so don’t hang out your washing without checking the weather forecast in three weeks time. We are still heading for Port Washington. Another crisis has struck the crew of Ruby Tuesday or should I say specifically the skipper. Remember the 12+ cases of beer bought before we left St Augustine? Well the last of them has been opened. There has been the gnashing of teeth and the rolling of eyes while he tried to work out where it was most convenient to restock. Port Washington has a dingy dock across the road from a huge grocery store. Problem solved, crisis adverted.

The next adventure we have to plan is an overnight trip from Atlantic Highlands to Cape May, out in open water. The forecast wind in this area is not high but Hurricane Jage will be passing off shore which will cause huge swells along that coastal area, another problem to be solved or do we have the patience to wait for every thing to calm down?

Are you on tender hooks for the next thrilling installment of “Life as a Sea Gypsy”?

17^th September 2017

OK, I have been a little bit complacent about these hurricanes – yes, these hurricanes, Jage, Lee and Maria. There are now another two developing and one of them may be more troublesome than Jage has been so far.

Today we made the decision to move from Port Washington to Atlantic Highlands. Both are comparatively sheltered but Port Washington will be more comfortable in the forecasted NE wind. The decision was made partly because the predicted winds of Jage have dropped in this area and also there is a U.N. summit in New York this coming week. This means the East River will be closed off to all traffic between 9am and 9pm. The East River is the water between Long island and New York. It becomes very narrow as it approaches the city and just before Roosevelt Island three bodies of water meet creating the well named Hells Gate. The passage through Hells Gate has to be timed so that you are moving with the current or the boat will be going backwards even at full throttle. Do it right, which we have now done twice she says very smugly, the boat can get a push of 5 to 6 knots, do it wrong and you stand still for an eternity.

Back to the U.N. summit. The U.N. building stands on the shore overlooking East River therefore that part of the water is closed when the important guys turn up because of security. We didn’t fancy doing the passage at midnight and it will be closed during the day so the choice was go today or wait until next weekend and maybe miss the good winds to take us down to Delaware. So we went and now we are anchored in Atlantic Highlands with four other boats who took the plunge.

It was the correct decision this morning now we are not so sure. The forecast has totally changed again and hurricane Jage may be edging closer to the east coast of America. It also may pass then do a sweeping circle and creep back on us. Not good. Even the Hurricane Centre is not sure what is going to happen in the next few days so it’s a game of wait and see. The more interesting thing is hurricane Maria is following in Jage’s footsteps and could be here next weekend after playing havoc with the Virgin Islands. If we get strong NE winds there is a tiny little anchorage a couple of miles away which would have better shelter than here so we are not completely panicking.

The next decision will be made on Wednesday afternoon, after the initial pass of hurricane Jage. Do we go before it might turn back and before Maria reaches us or do we stay tucked in out of danger? Who said sailing was all white culottes and cocktails?

August 2017

In which we sail from Rhode Island to Maine and back.

On the 1^st August, we heaved anchor at 0930 and headed from Martha’s Vineyard to Nantucket island. The currents in the area are significant and we decided to go the long way round to take advantage. This took us, initially, 3 miles west, past Gay Head then along the southern shore. Very light winds meant we had to motor sail for the first couple of hours but were then able to make good progress under main and cruising chute. We cut up Muskaget channel, to the east of Chappaquidick, which ends in a convoluted passage between shallows. For the first time since leaving the Bahamas, we were able to use the colour of the water to confirm our route. Of course, once committed to this, the wind increased and we had to hurriedly swap the chute for the genoa. A good anchorage was found just to the east of the breakwater at Nantucket.

We had the promise of a fair wind to take us up the east side of Cape cod the following day and went to bed with light hearts. These were made heavy in the morning when the reality of the day dawned. We had 70 odd miles to go and only 5 knots of wind to do it with. Worse, the fuel tank was down to ¼. So, instead, we headed up to Hyannis, on the southern side of Cape Cod, for fuel. That it took nearly 5 hours to achieve the 22 miles didn’t matter and, after fuelling to ¾ full (the price!), found a comfortable anchorage in the lee of Egg Island. There is a large, almost circular bay, used for dinghy sailing. This is, supposedly, a no-wake zone but a succession of small motor cruisers emerged from the port at 30 knots, picked up a buoy long enough to have a pic-nic, and shot back again. It was just like Italy.

Again, we should have had had good sailing winds on the 3^rd and set off full of hope. After a few miles, however, it became obvious that they were not going to develop and we set in for a long day of motoring. Worse, visibility dropped and we had to use our fog horn for the first time in nearly 2 years. Worst was the discovery that the charts had not kept up with the shifting sand bars at the south-east corner and we had to feel our way slowly for a couple of miles. Eventually, the wind did materialise and we had a good reach along the northern coast and then a beat down to the entrance to Providence harbour. Here, there is good protection from the southerly wind just inside the breakwater but a Mediterranean like narrow ledge to anchor on. The obvious spot was crowded but we managed to find a home nearer the entrance. The plan was to spend a day or two here or, more properly nearer the town as the wind was forecast to change to a strong northerly. On checking the weather in the morning, however, we found that there had been another change and it seemed that if we didn’t leave now, there would not be another chance to make progress north for another week. So, up anchor and head north. We did get, today, a good sail: the wind was right behind us and we set main and cruising chute on opposite sides for a dead run. There was a marked route for ships entering and leaving Boston but otherwise no obstructions. Apart from, in the middle of the afternoon, a cluster of 3 passenger boats. As we approached, one of them called and advised us to deviate as there were whales ahead. Since we were only making 5 knots, well below the recommended 10 to give whales a chance to keep out of the way and also on a fairly tight track because of our sail arrangement w.e declined the invitation. A few minutes later, there was a spout a couple of miles away and all 3 boats shot off at 20 knots in a pincer formation to harass the poor creature.

Whale watcher

We made the entrance to Rockport harbour20 minutes before sunset to find it littered with fishing floats but managed to weave our way through to find an anchorage. The forecast for the 5^th was for light winds, so we had an early start, lifting the anchor at 0720 and heading north. I n fact the wind was WNW’ly F4 giving us a fine sail up to Saco river, 51 miles away. Here they have ‘pay as you like’ moorings, one of which we picked up as there was no suitable anchorage. As we were doing so, we heard a Mayday call from a small motor cruiser about 5 miles away which was taking on water with 4 adults and 3 children on board. We were a little unimpressed with the local coastguard operator who failed to take down the lat / long position but the rest of the system worked well with a fixed-wing aircraft on the scene within 20 minutes which rapidly located the people, who by now were in the water, and dropped a liferaft for them. A local fast rescue craft then ferried them to waiting ambulances. I suspect that, being the USA, it will have cost them a bit but I’m sure that they won’t begrudge that. Having not shopped in Provincetown, as planned, we were now a little short of provisions and the intention was to shop on Monday morning. Unfortunately, Elsie went down with a tummy bug and, on going ashore, I found that there were no groceries locally. There was a trolley (tourist bus) to the local town but it did not seem to run to schedule and it seemed that I would have a significant walk the other end so could be away for 3-4 hours. Instead, I returned and, instead, we let go and sailed the 18 miles downwind to Portland, just using the cruising chute. Here, we found a nice anchorage a mile or so south of the main harbour, to dine on stores, some of which were purchased the other side of the Atlantic.

Schooners in Portland harbour.

A very pleasant feature of this coast is that the tourist sailing boats tend to be not modern catamarans, as in Europe, but gaff rigged schooners, with the passengers assisting in the sail handling. 3 of these came out for their evening cruise to lighten our hearts as we sipped our sun-downers. We shifted anchor to nearer the centre, the following morning and dinghied ashore for some shopping. We found a good supermarket a comfortable walk away but elected to taxi back as we had bought lots. We then heaved up and headed off towards Seguin Island. This was somewhere that we had been reading about for months. It has a working lighthouse, maintained by the coastguard, but the island is owned by a trust which appoints guest keepers each summer season to maintain the property and act as guides for visitors. When we first heard about this, we considered applying and had been reading the blog of this year’s keepers since. We hoped to get there in time fore a chat with them but, with the promised wind failing to materialise, we realised that it would be a late arrival and, as we knew that the following day was their one day off, decided to stop en-route so diverted to Potts harbour. This was quiet and picturesque but was our first encounter with real Maine density of lobster pot buoys. It was a real obstacle course to get to our anchorage and a puzzle of where we could drop to avoid fouling them if the wind changed. Fortunately, each fishing boat has its own colour coding and, provided you can spot the floats at each end of the trot, avoiding actually dropping on top of the pots is relatively straightforward.

Lobster pot buoys.

Our new plan, for the morning, was to arrive at Seguin midday-ish and chat with the Wednesday Warriors, the local volunteers who come out to staff the island on the summer keepers’ day off and perform heavy maintenance. That fell through as this was their end of season party day and the keepers arrived back shortly after we arrived and the Warriors departed as weather conditions were forecast to deteriorate. We gave Tara and Brian time to unpack their groceries then went ashore and met them. A very pleasant couple, also sailors, who spent a great deal of time on what should have been their day off showing us around and telling us all about it. A few clues that we had picked up from the blog were confirmed and, reluctantly, we now think that it is probably not for us. It is a beautiful location but we are probably too short fused to happily cope with some of the aggravations. Better to discover now than once committed! We had a further trip ashore, for a longer walk round, in the morning then let go and started heading back west.

Seguin light.

As mentioned before, we try not to set deadlines for being anywhere, but they keep cropping up anyway. This time, it is Elsie who has to back in the U.K. at the end of August, so we need to be near a convenient airport. We had hoped to make this Halifax, Nova Scotia but the last few weeks of frustration with the wind have convinced me that this might just be a step too far. Already, this summer, we have burned more fuel than in the preceding 18 months. While we might be lucky, we might find that we have to motor all the way back in deteriorating Autumn conditions. Elsie, with just a little quiver of the lower lip, has accepted this and we now start a slow wander back, to be in a position to set off back to the Caribbean in November.

Our stop on the Thursday night was Ebenecook harbour, up the Sheepscot river. Another beautiful, serene anchorage only marred by the youth who spent the evening zooming back and forth in two different motor boats, trying to shave 6 inches off his passing distance each trip. From there, we just crossed the river on Friday to Five Islands, a small fishing village which provides a few free mooring buoys for visitors. All but one were taken by local boats on our arrival but we managed to grab one and went ashore for a walk. I had been looking forward to having a good lobster meal while in Maine. We were donated a couple of live ones at Seguin, left-overs from the party which didn’t happen, and I cooked and served them with butter. Nice, but not mind-blowing. We hoped to find a restaurant serving more exotic dishes but it seems that steamed lobster with butter is the local way and that’s the way you will like it. Oh, well.

Another short voyage on Saturday took us to Ridley Cove, up the New Meadows river. This backs on to Cundy’s Harbour, a little fishing village which gets good write-ups and we looked forward to a walk ashore. There are many private piers but only one commercial jetty. We got a very grudging acceptance that we could probably leave our dinghy there for a short while. So we had a stroll to the village and bought a couple of things including a very good cup of lobster stew.

In the morning, we decided that we had done a sufficient sample of small Maine villages and that it was time to start wandering back to where Elsie could catch her flight back to Scotland (Norwegian Airlines, Providence RI – Edinburgh return for less than £300) so heaved up and alternately motored back to Saco river. Once again, we found a free mooring ball and dinghied ashore, to show Elsie the sights. We saw the ‘trolley’ bus heading into town and, as it was due to return 5 minutes later, decided to go to the main centre of Old Orchard beach. 25 minutes later, we had given up hope when it appeared. The driver had just decided to have a break. We took it anyway to discover a down market tourist town, with fun-fair, pier and tat shops. After a cursory look round and a fairly underwhelming ice-cream, we decided to wander up to the supermarket for a couiple of essentials and catch the trolley back. On return, while I topped up the water carriers, Elsie bought ba take-away of deep fried clams and scallops. Not cheap but proved to be huge portions which we couldn’t finish. To continue easily down the coast, we headed back to Rockport next day. The wind was, once again, a disappointment being just too light to be able to sail sufficiently fast to make a daylight arrival so it was motor for about 7 hours with just 2 hours of sailing at the end, anchoring in a similar spot to last time. In the middle of the afternoon, I had read the fuel gauge – about ¼ full but now it read less than 1/8, with no chance of a local top-up. So, although the wind in the morning was not promising, it was better than forecast for the following days and we had to go. As we lifted the anchor, at 09:00, the visibility dropped and we drifted east, then south with the fog horn sounding. The first couple of hours, we only achieved about 3 miles but conditions improved and we ended on a good beam reach heading for Beverly, next to Salem. In fact the wind had increased to over 15 knots and I was slightly concerned that it was blowing onto the fuel berth. No problem for getting on but, if there were obstructions, it could make getting off again tricky. Fortunately, the dock was clear and the wind dropped so there was no problem. We took 138 litres (tank 160), our most ever. It was now just a 3 mile motor to anchor in Salem harbour.

Harpoon boat.

When our mainsail went in for repair in Newport, the enterprising service manager had given us a quote for a new one, and we had been thinking about it ever since, even getting a couple of other quotes. The old one is still in fairly good shape but has had many repairs now and will definitely need replaced in the next year or so. Was it better to do it with no time pressure and maybe lose a year of service? Or to risk continuing and find ourselves unable to continue on a time critical voyage. We had finally decided to go for it, and informed North Sails. Fine, could we just take a few (many) measurements. Most were straightforward but for overall size measurements were needed from almost, but not quite, the top of the mast. The wind had dropped, so up I went, armed with a bit of string (borrowed from a lead line). Of course, once I was up there, the wind picked up and on measuring our marks, we found that we could stretch our string by up to 20 cms. Not nearly accurate enough, especially as our result for the luff (front edge) was 25 cms short of what the book said it should be. A quick online check, showed that North Sails had another loft in Salem and the local manager came out the following morning armed with a tape measure. Unfortunately, he also brought a cap-full of wind and I wasn’t overly confident in his figures either, especially as all was done from on deck with a guestimate of how far from the mast head the top of the tape was. The afternoon was spent ashore in Salem. Talk about a one-theme town. At least 10 witch museums, witch tours, witch stores. We got the message and resolved to re-read ‘The Crucible’ The town was otherwise pleasant, especially Chestnut Avenue, with many fine 19^th century houses. Up anchor in the morning and a slow sail down towards Boston. The harbour is protected by an archipelago and we weaved our way through, choosing to anchor in the bay of long island, which gave reasonable protection from the ferry wakes.

On the 18^th, we set off for Plymouth with what should have been a beam wind. Unfortunately, it backed so, rather than beat, we changed the plan and headed instead for Province town, at the tip of Cape Cod. We had been here a few weeks before but had to hurry away without landing, due to weather. As before, we were wanting to anchor on the southern side of the harbour and, as before, the good spot was fairly full. The added bonus was that as we dropped sail the rain started. And got heavier and heavier. We dropped anchor about where we had previously, intending to put out about 50 metres of chain but, as we dropped back with 35 out, we were coming close to a fishing buoy. With good holding and the anchor in 6 metres of water, that should be sufficient so we held on at that and went down to dry out and have my birthday dinner of roast duck. As we ate, there was a stronger gust and a sudden change in motion. The anchor was dragging and we had been pushed off the ledge. We were now in 20 metres of water and making about 1.5 knots across the harbour. It was pitch black, bucketing down and blowing 30 knots. On with heavy waterproofs and heave up, fortunately only collecting a stray end of rope rather than a full trot of lobster pots. Fortunately, we managed to find a better spot (should have looked harder earlier) and, this time, put out 60 metres, to be sure, though we set watches, just to be on the safe side. It was still pretty unpleasant weather in the morning, so we elected to stay where we were. On Sunday, 20^th, we moved over to the other side of the harbour, as light winds were forecast, and finally got to go ashore.

Rainbow flags at Provincetown.

Provincetown was the first place the Pilgrim Fathers landed in 1620. It was not a good area for agriculture, and they seemed unable to fish, so they moved across the bay to Plymouth and P Town was just a little fishing village until 1916, when it was discovered by the artistic set, who took it over. A century later, their legacy is still very much alive and it is the LGBT centre of the Eastern USA. Rainbow flags abound and the inhabitants and visitors are equally colourful. We enjoyed it greatly, especially wondering what the puritan settlers would have made of it. There is a fine monument to them on the highest point of land, with stairs to the top, which we climbed and a good little museum which chronicles both the maritime history and the artistic take-over. Obviously, as we had elected to stay, there was a steady 15 knot northerly wind through the day. We heaved up on the morning of the 21^st and headed towards Plymouth, with that wind still blowing and giving us a fine bream reach. It soon died and it was motor, sail, motor-sail across.

Plymouth rock.

Plymouth has nowhere to anchor but provides 3 free mooring balls close to the entrance and we picked one of these up. The current is significant and the following morning, with wind opposed, the mooring buoy was banging against our side. A call to the yacht club revealed that they had a mooring in more sheltered water at, gulp, $65 for the night. A year ago we would have baulked at paying that for a full service marina, but we wanted to see the town so bit the bullet and moved and spent the day doing tourist things. Free walking tour, lots of monuments, etc. and a reasonably priced, very good museum. As it was handy, we also made use of the very reasonably priced laundry at the yacht club later though, as the drier was very inefficient, we were late returning to Ruby for sun-downers.

On the morning of the 23^rd, we let go and motored out. A surprisingly good wind gave us a good sail down to the entrance of the Cape Cod Canal, which provides a convenient cut-through. The currents run very strongly through it, but they kindly timed themselves so that we had a good push, making 10 knots at economical revs. Mostly pleasant scenery, with a huge campground stretching along much of the north side. Most people obeyed the ‘no wake’ requirement, but there is always one who thinks it doesn’t apply to them, giving cause for a little irritation. On exiting, still with 4 knots of following current, this was put into perspective by the wind-against-tide conditions with large standing waves. Poor Ruby was slamming into these, at times slowing us to one knot through the water. Eventually the current decreased and the wind veered sufficiently to let us sail the last hour or so to our anchorage in Mattapoiset bay. A peaceful spot. The following day, we had a good beat across Buzzards bay to the cut in the Elizabeth islands. The wind was forecast to be westerly through the night and we were well sheltered from that but, of course, it veered to north making it a little choppy by the time we left. We took advantage of that northerly wind to set off to the west, steering a course between Block Island (ambitious at 42 miles) and Newport. As expected, the wind decreased through the morning so Newport it was. As we approached, we could see 6 huge black mainsails, with a large flotilla of smaller boats. It was the J class world cup, waiting to start and we considered joining the melee but the wind was dying, meaning that any racing would be pretty tame and we weren’t sure of the schedule. It was 3 PM and they were still not starting, so we headed into Newport, with the usual mayhem on the approach. Our previous anchor spot was free so we took it and then spent an entertaining evening listening to later arrivals asking the harbour master for moorings (none available) then watching them anchor in an increasingly crowded anchorage.

Classic yachts, Newport.

We were now a fixture for the next 10 days. Saturday was spent seeing some of the old town and tourist centre, including visits to a museum and an old Anglican church. A very knowing guide to the latter gave knowing insights to the gilded generation’s view of worship. On Sunday, we made another attempt at Fort Adams, the 19^th century defence protecting the harbour. Last time, we were thwarted by a jazz festival. This time, there was a re-enactment of a civil war battle with the participants using the centre as a car park. We did manage a tour of the outer defences and listening tunnels and the walk did us good. Monday was spent touring a couple of the mansions built by 19^th century industrialists: The Breakers, the largest and glitziest of all, built by Cornelius Vanderbilt and The Elms, built by Edward Berwind, a coal baron. The former was literally gilded, with acres of gold leaf and the latter had huge old master paintings, cut down and glued to the walls or, in one case, expanded by contemporary artists and stuck to the ceiling. Good audio guides gave a good insight to life in these monstrosities for owners and staff alike.

Gilded dining room, the Breakers.

It was now Elsie’s turn to jet off back to Scotland, catching a bus from Newport central and leaving me alone for a week. As ever, there were a host of little jobs to do, some of which were achieved.

Eleonoa E, Newport

Monthly distance:  640

July 2017

In which we make slow progress towards New England.

After a couple of hectic days in New York City, we had a quiet weekend at anchor in Manhasset bay, just popping ashore for a stroll and a can full of freshwater to keep the tanks up. I also ventured into the muddy water to inspect Ruby’s bottom. It was in a pretty poor state as our anti-fouling (supposedly good for 5 years) was becoming ineffective.

On Monday, 3^rd, we ventured into the city again heading to the south of Manhattan this time for a tour of Liberty and Ellis Islands. It was good to get up close to the lady and learn more about her history. We knew that the statue was a gift from the French but didn’t know that the plinth was paid for by the recipients. We chuckled at the way the cash was raised – Pullitzer started a fund and anyone who contributed even one cent was mentioned on the front page of his daily newspaper. Of course, all contributors wanted to see their name in print, and so bought copies until it appeared. No doubt his turnover and profits were much greater than the sum raised by the appeal and he still got recognised for his public spirit. The Ellis Island tour was more sobering, especially viewed from 100 years on with our current refugee crises. Even back then, some were tuned away because of what would now be curable diseases.

Registration hall, Ellis Island

For the 4^th, we decided to do the all-American experience and bought tickets for a New York Yankees home game. Baseball was new to both of us and left us frankly underwhelmed. A total of 5 runs were scored in 9 innings over 2 ½ hours and 3 of those were in one 30 second period. The stadium was half empty and the fans seemed to spend as much time buying food and drink as actually watching the game. A box ticked, but we won’t be rushing back. We contemplated staying on in town to watch the firework display and, if we hadn’t had commitments the following day would have done so but the idea of fighting our way back with literally millions of others late at night dissuaded us and we returned to Ruby. We were not short of fireworks to watch. Every evening there had been one or two displays to be seen round the bay. This evening there were dozens to be seen.

At the old ball game.

On the 5^th, we rose expecting Ruby to be lifted out for a scrub and re-coat of anti-fouling but the lift operator failed to appear. Instead, Elsie caught up on the laundry and I did a few minor maintenance jobs. We moved Ruby to a mooring buoy and, in the late afternoon, said goodbye to her as we were flying back to the U.K. for 10 days for health checks and family visits.  Another important port of call was the Cruising Association HQ, to finally receive our cup for last year's blog.

With Hanson Cup

We returned to Manhasset on Monday 17^th, to find that Ruby had been moved from one buoy to another but still with a dirty bottom. It was just about liveable with so we decided to continue on voyage until we found a boatyard where we could get the job done economically.

Many people remark, on hearing about our life, how wonderful it must be to live without stress, which always gives me a little chuckle. Our stresses may be different to those of the landlubber but, what with the weather, wind, tides and the sheer practicalities of a new location every few days for shopping, water, laundry etc. (Not to mention maintenance issues) they are very real. One that we try to avoid where possible is being in a certain place at a certain time as we know that events will conspire against us. It is usually me who has a need to return to the U.K. every few months, forcing a target upon us; this time it is Elsie, who needs to go back at the end of August. A few hours of internet browsing showed that we needed to either be in the New York / Rhode Island area or Halifax, Nova Scotia for this. So, once again, we have a target. It is only about 500 miles and we have 5 weeks to do it in but it is a target nonetheless.

Tuesday 18^th was a lazy day, just fitting a few spares that we had brought back with us then, on Wednesday we provisioned and watered in the morning before setting off. The forecast for the following few days was calm mornings and light winds in the afternoons, so we picked out lots of anchorages and hopped from one to another. Wednesday afternoon gave reasonable sailing and we made 19 miles along the coast of Long Island to Oyster Bay. This is almost completely land-locked and surrounded by luscious houses owned at various times by such luminaries as Teddy Roosevelt and Billy Joel. We tucked ourselves into a quiet spot and, for once, didn’t mind the music that started at sunset: Motown classics, played by a live band at a private party. Being the U.S., curfew was at 10:30, which suited our bed-time well. Tempted out in the morning by a breeze which died, we motored for a while, then managed a slow sail another 24 miles. Of course, just as we lowered the sails, a proper wind sprang up but we had picked our spot in Port Jefferson.. There was about a square mile of suitable depth water, but it was completely covered in private moorings, only about 4 of which were occupied, leaving a narrow margin on the other side of the channel for visitors, of which there were about 8. Fortunately, we found a good space and had a quiet night.

Oyster Bay house.

The Long Island shore to the East of Port Jefferson looked devoid of good anchorages so, on Friday, we crossed the sound to the Connecticut shore. The wind was a little stronger than forecast, probably boosted by solar heating on the mainland. We had a good broad reach, using the cruising chute for the first time in months. There seemed plenty of choice of anchorages, but the first listed one we tried had been taken over by private moorings leaving only shallows so we moved another mile and found an unlisted spot, near Stoney Creek, in a private bay guarded by rocks which disappeared at high water. Again, the houses looked slightly out of our price range. Saturday promised a beam reach along the coast but there was a light overcast and the wind failed to develop. We sailed in light airs for about 3 hours, then gave up and popped into Duck Island anchorage, which is protected by breakwaters and proved very popular with local boats both for day and night stops. Since arriving in New Jersey, U.S. Customs and border Protection had not required any further calls from us. Crossing the state line to Connecticut changed that and, from now on, the wanted a call from us every time we moved location so, every stop, while Elsie finished tidying up, I ‘phoned a friend’

On Sunday, the wind was kind and we had a fine close reach a further 29 miles to New London, just motoring the last 3 miles up the, very busy, river. The light house at the entrance set us to wondering. It is literally a house, a Georgian mansion, on a small island. It would be interesting to know it’s history. The town of New London is a sad place. The wealth of the rest of the coast has escaped it and the centre has many boarded-up shops and the active ones are often ‘thrift stores’. Ironically, the only fresh food available within walking distance was from an organic Co-op, that charged twice the usual price for not-very-special fruit and veg. They are making an effort to attract boats, with about 20 mooring buoys laid opposite the town pier (though we anchored, as usual) but no takers. Elsie had gone down with a cold and stayed on board while I just went on a couple of shopping trips in cold, wet weather.

New London Lighthouse.

 We stayed 2 nights then, on the 25^th, we headed out for a slow sail to Block island, finally breaking out of Long Island Sound. Block Island has a large, almost totally enclosed, anchorage, which was very well populated. We assumed that most of the boats were medium- or long-term but were surprised at a large proportion leaving early the following day. Elsie had prepared a progress plan, which we had fallen a couple of days behind on, but we were now due to make the 35 miles to Martha’s Vineyard, one of our must-see places. Than plan lasted until I prepared the Mainsail on Wednesday morning and found that one of the eyelets at the luff had broken free and sawed through the reinforcing rope. This rendered the sail unusable in but very light winds so urgent phone calls were made. Fortunately, one of the world’s great yachting centres, Newport Rhode Island, was just across the water and North Sails’ service manager came up trumps, ensuring timely collection, repair and return at a reasonable rate. He did, somewhat pointedly enquire about our on-board provision for emergency repairs to this, 12 year old, 30,000 mile sail and enclose a quote for a replacement but I’m sure no offence was meant.

Classic Keel boats racing, Newport.

In Newport, we anchored in the main harbour, with convenient dinghy access to a very pleasant town. On Thursday morning, we dropped the sail ashore and had a quick scout ashore. Noticing that a gap had appeared in the anchorage, we returned and shifted position to get more protection from, forecast, northerly winds then went ashore again for laundry, lunch (clam chowder – very good) and a book swap. On Friday morning our sail was returned but strong winds were forecast offshore so we decided to stay a little longer and went for a stroll along the southern shore of the harbour. Once again, lack of research meant that we were unaware that our destination, Fort Adams, had been taken over by a music festival but we enjoyed the walk, nonetheless. The rest of the afternoon was spent re-installing the sail and checking associated ropes. We decided to replace the clew out-haul and end-for end the first and second reefing lines.

NY Yacht Club, Newport.  For some reason, our invitations failed to arrive.

On Saturday, we did more touristing, first walking to the North end of the harbour to peer at big yachts, then catching a bus to the south end of the island and walking back along the cliffs past the billionaires’ mansions. Many of these are now open to the public but there is a new one being built, presumably for a new billionaire. A big provisioning was done on return, as we were heading back offshore to islands where food was reputed to cost at least 60% more. A final water run on Sunday morning the we picked out and headed out, expecting a N’ly F4 to take us to the Elizabeth Islands. As we left the harbour the wind died so it was a motor all the way to Cuttyhunk for a comfortable night. It was only 7 miles to Martha’s Vineyard so, with light winds forecast, we didn’t even bother getting the sails out in the morning, just motoring across in what developed into a fine beam wind.

Leafy lane, Martha's Vineyard

We went ashore, expecting to just look round the local area but discovered a remarkably efficient bus system and, by using 6 (7, if you count the one which changed route number on the way) we managed to circumnavigate the entire island in about 5 hours. It was a shame that we hadn’t started 4 hours earlier and managed to stop off to see more but we got a good flavour. It was totally against my expectations being very, English style, rural with no sign of brash developments. There was tourist stuff in Edgartown but even this, from our brief look, seemed tasteful, though we were amused to that the cinema advertised a weekly showing of Jaws which was, of course, locally based. On return to Menemsha, we found the village packed with visitors flocking to watch the sunset from the beach. We, of course, had a grandstand view but it wasn’t a classic.

Keeping it local at the cinema.

Monthly stats:

Over ground  170 miles.