Narragansett: the Myth, the Bay, the Beer

Onset, MA to Block Island, RI

Friday, October 7

The same tidal current that swept us through the Cape Cod Canal yesterday morning would give us a free ride on our start in Buzzards Bay on our way to Block Island this morning. The western flowing ebb began at around 8:18, so no need to hurry. We had a nice leisurely start to the day with some eggs, bacon, toast, and the real treat….two cups of coffee back-to-back. What luxury and shameful excesses! The winds were forecast to be out of the southwest at 15 knots, right on the nose for our 48 miles trek. A cold front was to pass through the northeast that night which would set us up perfectly with a north wind for our upcoming  200 mile leg to Cape May, NJ, the longest offshore leg of the trip to Annapolis. That said, we needed to be in Block Island to refuel and be in position to launch early the next morning to benefit from that wind shift, so we decided to just motor and get there. Once in Buzzards Bay proper we were tracking behind a sailboat going the same direction and I hailed him on VHF. Our AIS (Automatic Identification System, a marine type of transponder) gave us their ship’s details and name, Tai Chi, a Cabo Rico 44. The ship’s master hailed from Oriental, NC and he just purchased the vessel in Nova Scotia, his third Cabo Rico, and was on his way home with it. They too were on their way to Block Island, but after our spacing grew over the next several hours we lost them in the distance and never saw them again. Maybe they just decided to keep going. 

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the seas were relatively flat, and the headwind light, so the motoring was easy. Buzzards Bay is a fairly large body of water and, surprisingly,  we saw very few boats other that large commercial vessels for most of the morning. That changed a bit as we transited Rhode Island Sound abeam Newport some eight or nine miles away. We saw several very good looking and well trimmed sailboats on the wind and off, but clearly none heading to Block Island. The green number “1BI” bell marking our turn to the far side of Block Island slowly started to come into view on the screen as the chart plotter incrementally scrolled down with our progress west. We were positioning ourselves to round that mark to turn on a course that would take us to the Great Salt Pond entrance, our harbor for the night. The mark protects the Block Island North Reef where the topography of the bottom goes abruptly from deep to shallow for several miles dramatically affecting the sea state around it.

We went from an easy seven hour commute in relatively flat water to a very short, steep, and wet sea state. Rejoice handled it like it does everything else, just fine, but every plunge into a facing wave stole our momentum and the boat would lose several knot of boat speed slowing our progress. Taking green water over the deck became a regular occurrence and the poor helmsman (me)  got soaked by the spray. The photographer feigned perfection and insisted that the helmsman stay at his station to accurately capture the moment. (He really just wanted to see how wet I’d be willing to get for the photo op)!

 I figured that things would calm down once on the western side of the reef, but it wasn’t until reaching the breakwater leading into the anchorage that things finally dried out and settled down. 

Our timing was good and we entered Great Salt Pond just as the sun was eyeing the horizon which gave us enough time to find Paynes Dock at the south end of the anchorage and refuel while there was still a little natural light. I had only been to Block Island once before crewing for my father aboard Freya but didn’t remember much about it other than it was a wonderful port of refuge with 360 degrees of protection from the wind and seas. The cruising guide for the area said to look for a large American flag marking the services we were looking for, so we continued south and kept our eyes peeled. Paynes Dock did not have a VHF frequency to call on, but instead advised mariners wishing fuel or dockage to swing- by close and get instructions from an employee on the dock. It was pressing 1800, so we hoped someone was still there. Fortunately there was and he directed us to back into a tight corner of the fuel dock. Their original fuel hose was torn apart by the remnants of Ian two days before and their replacement would only reach so far. Again Fortunately for us, it was plenty far enough. We filled both the fuel and water tanks and were elated that we were now prepared for an early morning departure without delay. Darkness fell quickly and the dock manager helping us said, because of the hour, we could just stay put which was music to our ears. Once the ship was secured, we found showers ashore and headed to “Dead Eye Dicks” for a world class burger and a few Narragansetts. One thing was for sure, we had certainly left the peaceful solitudes of what we know in Maine and found the land of people. The restaurant was packed. It took me a bit to get my head around the idea that, from this point forward, increasingly dense populations were to be the rule rather than the exception.  We were both happy to be returning to a quiet, small boat. Back onboard we downloaded the GRIB files to take a look at what the models suggest the winds might be doing relative to the cold front we were expecting for the next jump offshore. The wind screaming through the rigging and rain  pounding the deck around 0100 let us know in real-time that the front was here, all reassuring sounds that let me drift off till morning.

All in all,  it was a very good day of seeing and learning new things and every one of those experiences was added directly to the life and living bucket!