Block Island, RI to Cape May, NJ
Saturday, October 8 – Sunday, October 9
It was nice having some connectivity to be able to scope out the radar to see where things stood early Saturday morning. It was still raining and, as much as we wanted to get going, there was no point in starting off soaked if the radar painted a better picture in an hour or two. The destination was Cape May, New Jersey, 203 nautical miles away and at a speed of 6 knots it would take us 34 hours of continuous sailing to get there. The earlier we left, the better chance we’d have of entering an unfamiliar anchorage in daylight. The cold front was clearly past us and we got the exact wind we were anticipating for this longish stretch offshore, NNW at 15 to 20 knots. We were excited. The rain stopped and the radar showed nothing behind the last band we had been watching so we pushed off the dock by 0830. Our course to steer for our rhumb line for the next day and a half was 241 degrees PSC (per ship’s compass). Once we rounded the R”2” bell marking the Great Salt Pond channel exit, we picked up our course and flew every sail we had; full mainsail, full genoa, and full staysail. It was glorious. We were reaching in a steady 17 knots and just flew! Craig was on the helm and coaxed the boat to 7.9 knots. That speed became the one to beat and it wasn’t long before we hit our top speed for the day of 8.1 knots. That’s pretty fast for a 16,000 pound displacement hull loaded for long range cruising with a short waterline to boot.
We were well offshore after passing Montauk Point at the easternmost end of Long Island and were visited by a small sparrow. It gave us a good look-over and decided any port in a storm would do and landed on our genoa sheet. The thought was that land birds often get blown out offshore with a storm and this portion of the east coast just had a doozie. This little guy felt increasing comfortable and move in to rest on the binnacle and later right into Craig’s welcoming hand. We had several more land birds visit and rest including one light brown with speckles around its neck, its name I’ve forgotten. And then there was the cormorant! I think he saw the sparrow’s reception and said to himself, “hey, that’s for me!” He set a course directly for the boat and as he got close, flew a “high alpha” maneuver to slow and turn as required to land on the boat. I came screaming on deck like a crazed LSO (Landing Signal Officer) from the 40’s trying to wave the unwelcome visitor off. It took two failed approaches, lots of wild gesticulations and plenty of yelling till he finally gave up and went on his way. Cormorants, not on this boat buddy!
We ran out of air by early afternoon and our speed bounced back-and-forth between 3.5 knots to 5 and it was looking increasingly like we’d have a nighttime arrival. Three knots is our cut-off and cue to start motoring. We had the fuel for the entire leg, but a sailboat is way more comfortable when sailing and a free resource is always good. The winds piped-up finally during the early evening and we partially reefed the genoa giving us that classic cutter look of a high-cut yankee forward with a lower cut staysail just behind it. We were moving again and celebrated with a warm and tasty dinner. Tonight’s menu included chicken pesto pasta complete with fresh sourdough bread right out of the oven!
As evening fell the winds increased to 20-22 knots and we put a reef in the main which did not affect our speed even a little, but made the ride a little flatter and more comfortable. It also made sense to do that adjustment in partial daylight, rather than having to mess with it in the dark alone on deck with the other crew member sleeping below. We didn’t regret the choice, it kept blowing. The night was crystal clear and both the sunset and moon rise were spectacular. We had a brilliant full moon on a completely cloudless night which made it almost like sailing in daytime. Despite the moonlight, the planets and stars were wonderfully visible and we saw Orion for the first time this season in the early morning sky.
We had expected the winds to moderate as a large area of high pressure filled in behind the cold front that had just passed. Just the opposite occurred and the winds kept building and turned more westerly. By mid afternoon the next day we were close hauled and unable to keep a reasonable course towards our designation and were now pointing back offshore. We were still 35 miles from Cape May which meant another six or seven hours even if we cranked the motor and pointed right at it. The tacking angles would have pushed us well into the night if not the next morning, so we opted to divert to Atlantic City and get some rest. The seas were close together and steep and the wind continued unabated at 22 knots, so we were looking forward to reaching the lee of the Jersey shore and flatter water. It seemed like it took forever, but we finally reached the entrance to Absecon Inlet and poked our way into Snug Harbor looking for a spot to spend the night. We hailed several places, but got no answer so motored back out to the main channel. We found a good spot to anchor in 12 feet of water just before a fixed bridge and were plenty happy to be away from the Atlantic City hubbub! The current was ripping and with shoals and a bridge to leeward, we made plenty sure we had a good amount of anchor rhode scope out and were well set.
At 1745 we secured the engine, popped a beer each (specialty beer – a departure gift from a dear friend) and just wondered at the spectacle of hotels radiating alternating displays of lights along their lengths just on shore. We were plenty happy to be on the boat!
I think you’re going to have to stock up on bird seed, Dave! Looks like a flicker visited as well.