Monday, July 11, 2005

Annapolis to Martha's Vineyard passage notes

This is a summary of the high (and low) points about the passage from Annapolis to Martha's Vineyard.Onboard Devante’s Dream for the passage are Eric Langley, the owner, Paul Reed and Tom Cobin both of Annapolis.

Early Monday morning July 11th we began final preparations, clean and stow the dinghy and some last minute packing and boat prep. We shoved off at 6:44 AM with 103.7 hours on the engine. Tom took the first watch. We're running 4 hour watches during the day and then two hour watches at night from 0000 til 0600.

We motor out of the Annapolis Harbor and head up the bay. Eric cooked scrambled eggs with cheese and grilled bagels with jam. We eat breakfast together in the cockpit. There are various remarks about what the rest of the world might be doing now. There's a slight favorable current and later in the morning a little wind begins to develop so we sail for a while running 30 degrees to the C&D canal.Both Tom and Paul race a lot so they look at how to improve the sail shape of the headsail and main. The head sail was sagging and had pockets on the luff (leading edge of the sail closest to the wind) so the halyard was tightened and some other adjustments made.They wind stays decent out of the SE for a few hours so we proceed with sail only, running around 4 knots. Around 0930 the wind starts to die off so we motor sail. By 10:30 its pretty warm out. Around 11:30 it is calm so we stow the sails. However, we have a one knot favorable current so we're making 7.5 knots over the ground. I have the 1200 1600 watch.The passage up the Chesapeake Bay was uneventful and fairly hot. Earlier on we decided that we would push on through the C&D canal without stopping (hot and boring) and make for Cape May in one long run. We make one pit stop in Chesapeake City for ice at 1340 hours. Docking is fun with the current. We're fairly pumped because we are about three hours ahead of schedule. Plus the slight breeze in the canal is a little refreshing.

My shift ends in the canal at 1600 and Tom takes over. I go below for a nap. When I wake up later we’re already in the Delaware Bay. At the northeast corner of the bay sits a large nuclear power plant. We’re hugging the coast near the plant to make Cape May. There are a lot of crab pots by the power plant. Is that a good idea?

When we first got together on the boat Sunday night Tom noticed that the teak was pretty bleached out on the boat so he very kindly brought some teak oil onboard, hint, hint. Since the Delaware Bay is devoid of anything interesting to look at (other than the supertankers passing us) I take to oiling the wood. It’s very rewarding as the wood really needs it and looks a lot better. We do pass one interesting light house that looks like a Victorian mansion.

At the north end of the Delaware Bay we had a slight foul current but the nav software (which is awesome) shows currents along the route will be switching to favorable. Around 1500 we’re in a swift favorable current that we can see in the channel buoys. We’re making excellent time and expect to be in Cape May by 2100 to 2200. We have a sandwich and watch the sunset.

We have a discussion about whether or not we’ll take the Cape May canal into Cape May or go around the point. Looking at the chart we notice that the bridge height is 55’. DD’s mast is 55’6”. Just enough to clear. Going around will add about 5 miles (around another hour) to our arrival time. We’d like to do dinner ashore so that would put us in too late for that. It’s my call so I opt for the canal. Tom takes us in.

Entering the canal it’s very dark. I have the laptop on the cockpit table and have the chart zoomed in. Tom is piloting, reduced speed. As we approach the bridge Eric takes the helm (owner responsibility and all that). Thankfully we have a foul current so I can really get the forward speed of the boat to just a crawl. We are fighting with the search light cord being too short and the plug not making a good connection to the lighter outlet. Tom tries to rig the search light forward but the cord is too short.

As we approach the bridge there are green lights marking the center of the span that hang down! Not only that they have wires hanging down, the closet light has a wire on the left and the farther light has a wire hanging on the right. I have the boat just making headway as we get very close to the bridge.
“Can you tell?”
“I can’t tell!”
“Can we make it?”
I can’t tell!”

The mast is inches from the bridge. As it begins to pass under I hear a “tink, tink, tink” sound. I realize that it is the VHF antennae hitting the first girder with the motion of the boat rocking fore and aft. Hmm, we are right on the bridge support beam so let’s go forward and see what happens. The antennae scraps the bottom of the beam but the mast and windex are clearing. Tom shouts that we are drifting to the left of the channel and I adjust the boat to the right. We have to go under the bridge from left to right, kind of kiddy corner, due to the wires hanging down. The antennae scraps the I-beams each time we pass under one.
After a few tense moments passing under each I-beam we finally clear the bridge. High fives all around!

Then it’s on down the canal. There is a railroad bridge ahead that is supposed to be always open.
“Is it open?”
“It’s supposed to be open.”
Pitch black out.
“It’s open, but it’s narrow”.
“We’re clearing it.”
“Yes, we’re clearing..”

We continue on down and I check the chart again as the canal makes a 45 degree turn. Argh! Another bridge ahead. The same as the one that we just cleared; 55’ I am definitely not looking forward to passing under another bridge like that. But there it is and we’re not turning back so on we go. It looks a little better, no hanging wires this time. We enter and here the now familiar “tink, tink, tink” of the VHF antennae hitting the bridge trusses.

As we are about ½ way under the bridge a small power boat goes by and yells at us, “you are not going to make it. You’re going to rip your antennae off!.,” All the while creating a large wake that is causing Devante’s Dream to rise and fall. Great, thanks for that fine advice. Thankfully we rise on the wake in between each bridge truss and then go in the trough under each truss. Whew! That was close. More high fives.

Now it’s on to Cape May harbor. We now doubt that we’ll get dinner ashore as it is already almost 10:00PM. We’re looking for a marina but really can’t see much in the new moon darkness. The new moon should have been a warning for me, but I failed to realize it at the time.. I motor to the right out of the mouth of the canal to what the chart shows as deep enough water. We’re showing 7’ of water. More than enough for DD. I head toward what appears to be a marina but is in fact a private dockage.

On the left there appears to be an anchorage and a sailboat similar in size to DD so we decide to moor there. There are some mooring balls so we grab one. Tom and Paul note that it is the most disgusting mooring ball they have ever seen. We get on the ball and decide to make some dinner. Tom has tuna steaks in the freezer that he thaws out in the microwave. He prepare an excellent meal of pan seared tuna, sautted onions and salad. We debrief on the bridge passings, amazed that we are even here.

We’ve been under way since 6:44AM, and it’s 10:00PM, in some pretty hot weather and sticky situations. This calls for a shower. Paul is on deck yells down below that we are dragging the mooring ball! Oops, fire the engine back up again. We drop anchor in front of the other sailboat and crash for the night.

All in all we made very good time with a favorable current for all but one and half hours at the north end of Delaware Bay. If we had not spend so much time messing around in the Cape May canal and had left at 0600 we could have made Cape May’s outer harbor by 2000 or 2100 hours. Not bad progress for a day’s sailing.

Tuesday July 12, 2005
Next morning Paul is on deck first and notes that all of the other boats are facing in a different direction than we are. We’re bobbing a bit but we are definitely on the ground. Bummer. Paul belays the boat by hanging onto the boom on the port side. Tom hikes out as well. We slowly reverse (squirm by turning the helm left and right) out and head for the channel marked by triangles and squares on poles. However, we’re still running aground in the channel! More belaying and working out way out of the “channel” to what appears to be more open water.

We need diesel and water and some basic supplies before the passage to Martha’s VIneyard. The first marina we go to for fuel we run aground in. This is not working out well. We back out of there and Tom takes the helm while I go below and get the phone number for the other marina near the entrance to the Cape May canal, Utch’s. The guy I talk to says to stay near the seawall on the way in. We head that way. And run aground. The guy comes out onto the seawall and says that we need to be closer to the wall, even though we are only about 50 yards off to start with.

Finally we make it into the fuel dock and get some staples and two very important items; fly swatters. We’re inundated with house flies! Oh, and this is NJ so we are really ready to get out of there. So with our five bags of ice, fly swatters and a dinghy sized can of coffee that Paul grabbed in the store we head out of the harbor at 8:30 AM. I get the honors of navigating the harbor exit even though it’s Paul’s watch. If we run aground it’s my responsibility I guess.

Thankfully the harbor exit is less eventful than last night. I spot a nice marina for use on the way back through Cape May that will let me avoid the tricky inner harbor. I won’t be taking the Cape May canal though, next time we go outside.

As we exit the outer mark Paul assumes his normal shift starting at 0900. By 0930 we’re getting ready for the ocean passage (shouldn’t we have done this before?) things like the harnesses and jackline. We futz with the jackline for a while, trying to figure the best way to tie it so that we can reach the maximum amount of the boat while clipped in. We settle on using the 100’ 3/8 line that I have dedicated to this purpose by running it from the stern cleats up along the sides through a sideways set of guide blocks for the halyards and then up to the bow cleat and finishing with a wrap around the windlass so that we don’t have to cut the continuous line.

We can clip into the jackline while anywhere in the cockpit and use it to go forward up to the mast base. Then we use the second carbineer on our harness to hook onto the bow portion of the line and then unclip the aft section. It only takes a second to clip the second line but the big advantage is that we’re never unconnected from the jackline for the entire length of the boat.

After about a half an hour of rigging the jackline we are ready for whatever the ocean can dish out. Hmm… maybe not that ready. But it doesn’t matter. There is no wind and it’s about 90 degrees. We’re sweltering in our harnesses and connected to our jackline. So we take some pix and motor towards Martha’s Vineyard at about 6 knots @ 2850 RPM.

I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. Being the old pilot that I am I start to think about fuel. My Cherokee Six could fly about 5.5 hours on a fuel load of fuel, way longer than most of the passengers could go without getting a potty break. Devante’s Dream will go about 36 hours on a fuel load of fuel. But we need a reserve so we can really go about 30 hours. MV is about 40 hours away on the rhumb line. We can’t make it without sailing a good bit. Besides this will be the most boring delivery in history if we motor all the way.

I pull out the charts and discuss it with Tom and Paul. Mostly Tom since he’s not driving. We look at the Jersey coast and there is not much. Barnegat Bay is the furthest north harbor that would be anywhere near our route. Reading the chart for the south side of Long Island is a hoot. The one inlet that looks navigable has a warning box on the chart the reads, “Warning (such and such Inlet) is not navigable under any seas.”

Wow, I guess we won’t be going there. Our great compromise is to cheat toward the Jersey side of the rhumb line. If the wind does not pick up at least we’ll be closer to shore. We listen to the weather and it’s calling for NE winds at 10Kts swinging to the SE over the next 24 to 36 hours. SE would be nice. That would be a nice reach up the MV. NE would not be good, right on the nose.

Being the racers that we are we’re constantly scanning for any kind of puff or breath of air, nothing for hours. There’s one other sailboat off to our west. He’s motoring. By 11:30 AM and still no wind I am looking at Barnegat or barely making Block Island. No one likes that sound of barely making Block Island.

Paul’s shift ends and I take over and wouldn’t you know it not ten minutes later the wind picks up a bit, right on the nose just like the forecast. But, it is wind. We are able to open the headsail and along with the engine work in some tacks. We’re on port tack heading out to sea so Tom and I discuss our options some more.

The wind is supposed to shift to the South East over the next 24 to 36 hours so there is no sense in heading out to sea on port tack. We’d just end up getting headed. Besides, we’d be sailing away from our possible refueling stop in Barnegat Bay. So we tack over onto starboard and wait for the wind shift. And wait, and wait.

We’re passing places like Atlantic City and Stone Harbor NJ. The wind builds to 15 to 20 knots but it’s right on the nose. We hold starboard tack and work our way up the Jersey coast. The sailing is great but not much progress. It’s also cooling a little bit. By the end of my shift at 4:00 PM we’ve only covered 28 miles. This could take a while!

Tom takes his watch and the sailing is nice. About ½ hour into his watch the wind finally begins to clock around so that we’re not following the Jersey shore and can begin to head out to sea. Sandwiches for dinner for Tom and Paul. Eric munches on a piece of turkey but trying not to eat very much. You don’t want to be below too much with the sea building. There’s a nice sunset as we prepare for the night run.

Paul has the first night shift, a regular four hour watch. We’ll be running two hour watches from 0000 to 0600 then back to regular shifts. Tom is sleeping below. He was trying to some stuff below earlier that did not involve sleeping for a while and came up looking very green. I had just come up as well, not wanting to be below unless I was sleeping.

Tom has a dream in which he and others in the dream left the ground for no apparent reason. He notes in the log that it’s odd what your mind creates to explain the pitching and rolling of the boat. On the VHF “NY Traffic” is talking to the super tankers that we can not see.

By 2300 Tom feels better and notes that the jib has been furled a little bit since sunset and the main has been eased a little. Our speed over ground is just over 6 knots and above 5 through the water. I slept through most of Paul’s watch getting ready for my midnight watch. We had the spinnaker out of it’s hole and tossed onto my bed so I am sleeping in my bunk using the spinnaker as a prop on the port side of the boat. I sleep soundly but wake up occasionally to get my bearings and check the clock. I don’t want to be late for my shift. By 2330 I am ready for my watch and let Paul off a few minutes early.

Awesome. Night sailing with a stiff breeze and some starts. By 0100 I am feeling some sprinkles so kick on the autohelm and head below to get my foulies. Gil trousers, jacket and boots. I get everything tucked in around the ankles, wrists and neck then tuck in the dodger to keep the cockpit dry. Just in time as the rain kicks in but with not big wind gusts, just some rain. I don’t nod off too much because the weather is keeping me awake. By 0145 Tom and Paul poke their heads up and ack the weather and get their stuff on.

Tom relieves me and I crash on the port (leeward) cockpit bench (with the cushion still on). Once in a while I help trim the sails or check that Tom is awake. I actually sleep pretty good all bundled up in my foulies with the harness over the top of the jacket nice and tight. I clip onto the jackline just about all the time.

The wind stays up for Tom as he takes the 0200 to 0400. Tough watch but he’s willing. He appears to have enjoyed it. At 0400 Paul relieves Tom and I head to my bunk for some real sleep. Paul reported that Tom was pretty much crashed on the leeward cockpit bench and was stepping over him to trim the sails. He didn’t seem to mind. I get up for the 0600 watch which Paul and I work together. Tom crawls below for sleep.

Paul and I try to wake Tom when we spot the dolphins but he’s dead to the world, first of the port side, just one. Then on the starboard side and the starboard bow as they began to play in Devante’s Dream’s bow wave. There are about 6 to 8 of them. One of them is very feisty, jumping out of the water and kicking his tail in our bow wake for fun, he looks like a teenager. They all accelerate and zoom across our bow like we are moving still. We can see their powerful muscles in the clear water.

I grab the camera and take some short videos. It seems that they know to only jump out of the water when I am not taking video! Then, just as quickly as they came, they are gone. Paul and I exalt in the dolphin encounter for a while. 0800 rolls around and it’s time for Tom to get back to it. Of course by then the wind is dying to we’re having to motor sail.

The next day is pretty uneventful (except for the naval gunnery exercises that we are advised to avoid on the radio, dodging fish net buoys and Paul learning to use the fuel gauge). The wind is slowly clocking around to the SE but diminishing as well. We’re running good SOG though of about 7.5 kts with 2000 rpm and help from the wind. We are able to keep the headsail up.

As the day goes along I am calculating our estimated arrival time. It appears to be in the very early morning hours of the next day. I had originally wanted to run Muskeet channel and then around Cape Pogue into Edgartown but that is not advisable at night. Even though the channel is 5 miles wide there is a very shallow shoal on the western side of the channel that you would not want to be on at night. So we aim the boat toward Gay Head Martha’s Vineyard and plan to enter via Vineyard Sound.

We have a mostly overcast sky so it’s not too hot. Late in the afternoon we have fun with knots. Tom is thinking about how to rig a cunningham on the main sail. I start watch at 1600. It’s fairly pleasant motor sailing. Paul and I see and black finned shark that Tom does not see (of course). By 1800 we can see land first the first time in over 24 hours; it’s Block Island, barely visible about 13 miles to our port. Tom makes another fabulous tuna steak dinner about 25 miles out from Gay Head and we enjoy some Dark & Stormy’s.

As we approach Gay Head darkness descends. We’re “all hands on deck” for our landfall approach. Paul has the helm. Tom is looking at flashing red and green lights. I am running the laptop navigation software on deck so that I can tell Paul where to steer. Tom has the Gay Head light in site.

We make the turn around Gay Head and head into Vineyard Sound. It’s about 1:00AM and getting misty. We can hear (and kind of see) the lobster boats heading into Menemsha. While we can navigate fine with the GPS and the light buoys we do have a problem with the unlit buoys; we can’t see them. There is one dead ahead so I tell Paul to turn right 5 degrees. Still dead ahead. Right 5 more degrees. Still dead ahead. What gives? It’s the current driving us in (it’s a favorable current but it’s still driving us into the buoy) and we have to practically turn towards land to avoid it. We still can’t see it as we go by but we know it’s there.

There is a shallow area known as Middle Ground that I want to avoid. It has some 6 foot deep areas.
We can either go inside towards the shore, which has a very narrow exit at the end near West Chop, or go outside in the main part of the sound. I elect outside and I am glad I did in a few minutes.

It’s getting very misty and the temperature is falling. Looks like fog. We put down the sails (yes we had been sailing all this time) and go on just the diesel. Not five minutes later we can’t see 50 feet. This is not good. We’re passing the lighted mark at the end of West Chop and can hear the bell but we can’t see it. It’s only 75 feet away. We slow to a crawl. We can hear an engine that seems to be coming towards us. Suddenly a bright white light is on our port bow. We blow the danger horn and the boat (a ferry out of Vineyard Haven) turns right to avoid us. “Don’t ferry’s have to run nav lights?” we all ask. The boat was just full of white lights with no red or green bow lights that we could see.

We proceed slowly as I give Paul turning instructions, “Two degree’s right, Ten degree’s right.” He has no idea where we are going but I can with the GPS chart. Paul does not look at the chart so that he can maintain his night vision. Within a few minutes the dense fog lifts and we can see for a mile or more. We motor towards Edgartown.

Coming into Edgartown Harbor Paul can see to gigantic white lights dead ahead. He thinks it is a humongous ship.
I tell him “It’s land.”
No “it’s a ship,” he says.
He must be a little punch drunk from the night navigating.
“No, it’s land Paul, I have been here before.”
It’s Chappy Beach. Of course the last time I was here there where like ten houses on the island. Evidently now there are more, with a lot of lights!

We turn to head into Edgartown Harbor. I announce that we are home free until we get into the harbor. We motor on in. As we are approaching the Edgartown lighthouse Paul says that the water looks very calm ahead. Hmm. As we get closer he says it looks like land. I reply with a “No way”, but Paul does a 360 just to be sure. Sure enough it’s a sand bar. The harbor entrance is narrower than I remember it.

We find the channel and in the inner harbor search for a mooring ball. It’s very dark and about 3:00AM. We can’t find a blue ball (even though we are right on top of them I find out the next day) and settle for using a private ball. We’re on and in Edgartown! Congrats all around then to bed.

This is the end of the Annapolis to Martha’s Vineyard passage. I trust that the reader has not found it too boring. It was quite exciting for us, believe me. I am still amazed how well the three sailors on this passage worked so well together. It was a pleasure to sail with such capable crew mates and we all agreed that we would do so again in the future. I thoroughly enjoyed that portion of the trip and looked forward to the next part, visiting Martha’s Vineyard and running the Round the Island race. More on that in the next blog.

PS Sorry this took so long to get out. It feels like I never have a spare moment onboard. What with sailing and navigating and cooking and cleaning, there is just no time! Also sorry for any typo’s, I did not have much time to proof this.



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