It was indeed a blustery night, even in what looked like it would make a good hurricane hole. I was woken by the sound of things sliding across the galley counter as the boat heeled in sudden gusts that caught it broadside after the tide had swung her in a lull.
I woke to the promise of a beautiful day:
However, by the time I had reached the harbor entrance, it had turned grey, blustery, and threatening. It would have been a grand reach in summer but handling sails alone in those temperatures doesn't have much appeal.
I'd laid out courses for easy days to Hampton so I stuck to my original plan and ran, or punched to be more accurate, up Fleets Bay to Warehouse Point and anchored in front of the marina. It is an interesting marina, being built almost around one of those grain silos with multiple bins and pipes with boat like spreaders and guy wires running everywhere.
I'd only been anchored a few minutes when the sky cleared and a breeze with a hint of warmth came up. I hoisted the main for the first time this year and sailed on a grand reach down to Windmill Point light where the wind veered and died. I finished the day with a long pleasant run up into the East River of Mobjack Bay where I did something else I haven't done yet this year. I sat in the cockpit watching the sunset and still feeling a bit of its warmth as it slid behind the treeline.
The weather report promised a great sail down to Hampton. The creek was dark and flecked with white so I set the main under power so I could reef it easily and then ran down to the bay under sail. However, it quickly became a dead run in easing winds and the sky began to look very threatening astern. I motorsailed down to the mouth of the York River.
The wind then veered into the northeast and began to blow hard. It had all the looks of an un-forecast weather bomb building out of the storm system passing to the north. I'd furled the main shortly before and could have raised it and made just as good time under sail as power. Alone in the cold and lumpy seas thought, I decided it made best sense to just boogie and get into Hampton. Continuing under power would also let me use the autopilot and be able to duck below to get warm from time to time and sail standing in the companionway instead of standing out in the cold wind. I rolled out about half the jib and raced for Point Comfort.
The weather treat began to diminish just as I reached the turn up into Hampton Roads but I was still plenty glad to be there. I'm now at anchor off the Public Piers without any real plan for the next few days.
I woke to the promise of a beautiful day:
However, by the time I had reached the harbor entrance, it had turned grey, blustery, and threatening. It would have been a grand reach in summer but handling sails alone in those temperatures doesn't have much appeal.
I'd laid out courses for easy days to Hampton so I stuck to my original plan and ran, or punched to be more accurate, up Fleets Bay to Warehouse Point and anchored in front of the marina. It is an interesting marina, being built almost around one of those grain silos with multiple bins and pipes with boat like spreaders and guy wires running everywhere.
I'd only been anchored a few minutes when the sky cleared and a breeze with a hint of warmth came up. I hoisted the main for the first time this year and sailed on a grand reach down to Windmill Point light where the wind veered and died. I finished the day with a long pleasant run up into the East River of Mobjack Bay where I did something else I haven't done yet this year. I sat in the cockpit watching the sunset and still feeling a bit of its warmth as it slid behind the treeline.
The weather report promised a great sail down to Hampton. The creek was dark and flecked with white so I set the main under power so I could reef it easily and then ran down to the bay under sail. However, it quickly became a dead run in easing winds and the sky began to look very threatening astern. I motorsailed down to the mouth of the York River.
The wind then veered into the northeast and began to blow hard. It had all the looks of an un-forecast weather bomb building out of the storm system passing to the north. I'd furled the main shortly before and could have raised it and made just as good time under sail as power. Alone in the cold and lumpy seas thought, I decided it made best sense to just boogie and get into Hampton. Continuing under power would also let me use the autopilot and be able to duck below to get warm from time to time and sail standing in the companionway instead of standing out in the cold wind. I rolled out about half the jib and raced for Point Comfort.
The weather treat began to diminish just as I reached the turn up into Hampton Roads but I was still plenty glad to be there. I'm now at anchor off the Public Piers without any real plan for the next few days.
