I bribed Roger to let me crew with the promise of another major turkey sub from our local emporium and our departure was set for Friday morning. I booked a train from Delaware to north Jersey for Thursday afternoon. Early Thursday he's in Altantic Highlands already and departure is midnight Thursday night. That's fine with me; I can get an earlier train, night run outside, good forecast for Friday.
So I'm on the local train to the coast, just about to clear the industrial wasteland of Northern New Jersey and I get a text from Roger, "be ready for a pierhead jump, we should head right out. You up for it?". At that moment the train crossed a bridge and I looked out to see Raritan Bay to my left and the view was blank. Fog.
I texted back, "Sure. 20 minutes to Red Bank, 30 to marina." I climbed out of the cab, walked down the pier and Strider was making her second pass off the floating dock. We are off. "Hey, this guy is from Maine. Fog is a way of life up there." I tell myself and I am glad to see a radar dome on the mast. We picked our way out of the harbor and around Sandy Hook inside the channel, confirming the blips of bouys and boats as they ghost past. At the north end of the point we both ask ourselves if we see pilings to starboard until it's apparent that they have hats and fishing rods, and are standing on sand that was about 2000 feet further south last year. There's still 40 feet of water under us, so around we go.
Roger set a course about two miles off shore, visibility was 1/2 mile with clearing forecast. After some dinner I went below to nap for my 10-2 shift at the helm. Most folks are lulled to sleep by an engine running, but I notice silly stuff like hearing more valve train noise if I'm on my left side, more transmission gears on my right. But I did sleep and by 10 pm the skies had cleared and the moon was up. There was just enough moonlight to dodge a couple of fishtrap floats in the first 20 minutes. The autotiller did the rest of the duty with minor tweaks of the remote and we plowed down the coast checking radar and watching ahead.
Roger relieved me at 2 am and I reposed to dream in 2300 rpm again. About 5 am the revs dropped and I woke to look out at the lights of Atlantic City to starboard and a big fishing boat on the port side. She had her might is right moment and we were off again.
I came back on at 6 and had a pretty sunrise. There was promise of a breeze from the northwest and after a short nap, Roger made breakfast and we raised sail. The intent was to stop at Cape May, snooze and wait for the southwest winds forecast for Saturday, but sailing was just about perfect so we slipped right on across the Delaware Bay on a beam reach to Lewes. We tacked up to let some cargo traffic clear the channel at Cape Henlopen, dropped the sails and motored into the harbor to anchor just off the ferry terminal. We had run almost 100 miles under power and 35 or so under sail. After dinner and an introduction to a couple of "Dark & Stormies" the call of the horizontal was very strong. It's no wonder that Cruiser's Midnight comes at 9pm after days like this.
We were up at first light and the wind was SSW as forecast, but light. We sailed up through the ship anchorage and crossed the slough (that's "slew" in Delawarean") to the main channel with the current fair and building as we worked north. Now there's lots of griping about the Delaware Bay. Mornings like this would belie the reputation, and as we turned northwest with the channel, the breeze built and Roger had Strider rail down and grinning. But by 3pm the wind was coming around to our nose and building a short chop that had us in foulies and motoring pretty soon. The nuclear plant at Salem is all the more somber and grim in grey crummy conditions. It seemed fitting that as we left it behind and turned into the C&D canal, skies cleared and our soaking ended.
An hour and a half later we turned into the Chesapeake City basin and a capacity crowd with several boats circling to select their anchorage. We picked our way to the back of the basin and dropped the hook in 16 feet of water. A few minutes later a classic double ender pulled in next to us. I'll let Roger tell you about her. I took the dingy in to get Laura with our feast consisting of; a 20" shredded turkey hoagie with everything, hot; a fresh blueberry pie from the local orchard and a 6 pack of Sierra Nevada, and that clear Autumn evening sunshine to gild the edges.
Thanks for the ride!
Bob
So I'm on the local train to the coast, just about to clear the industrial wasteland of Northern New Jersey and I get a text from Roger, "be ready for a pierhead jump, we should head right out. You up for it?". At that moment the train crossed a bridge and I looked out to see Raritan Bay to my left and the view was blank. Fog.
I texted back, "Sure. 20 minutes to Red Bank, 30 to marina." I climbed out of the cab, walked down the pier and Strider was making her second pass off the floating dock. We are off. "Hey, this guy is from Maine. Fog is a way of life up there." I tell myself and I am glad to see a radar dome on the mast. We picked our way out of the harbor and around Sandy Hook inside the channel, confirming the blips of bouys and boats as they ghost past. At the north end of the point we both ask ourselves if we see pilings to starboard until it's apparent that they have hats and fishing rods, and are standing on sand that was about 2000 feet further south last year. There's still 40 feet of water under us, so around we go.
Roger set a course about two miles off shore, visibility was 1/2 mile with clearing forecast. After some dinner I went below to nap for my 10-2 shift at the helm. Most folks are lulled to sleep by an engine running, but I notice silly stuff like hearing more valve train noise if I'm on my left side, more transmission gears on my right. But I did sleep and by 10 pm the skies had cleared and the moon was up. There was just enough moonlight to dodge a couple of fishtrap floats in the first 20 minutes. The autotiller did the rest of the duty with minor tweaks of the remote and we plowed down the coast checking radar and watching ahead.
Roger relieved me at 2 am and I reposed to dream in 2300 rpm again. About 5 am the revs dropped and I woke to look out at the lights of Atlantic City to starboard and a big fishing boat on the port side. She had her might is right moment and we were off again.
I came back on at 6 and had a pretty sunrise. There was promise of a breeze from the northwest and after a short nap, Roger made breakfast and we raised sail. The intent was to stop at Cape May, snooze and wait for the southwest winds forecast for Saturday, but sailing was just about perfect so we slipped right on across the Delaware Bay on a beam reach to Lewes. We tacked up to let some cargo traffic clear the channel at Cape Henlopen, dropped the sails and motored into the harbor to anchor just off the ferry terminal. We had run almost 100 miles under power and 35 or so under sail. After dinner and an introduction to a couple of "Dark & Stormies" the call of the horizontal was very strong. It's no wonder that Cruiser's Midnight comes at 9pm after days like this.
We were up at first light and the wind was SSW as forecast, but light. We sailed up through the ship anchorage and crossed the slough (that's "slew" in Delawarean") to the main channel with the current fair and building as we worked north. Now there's lots of griping about the Delaware Bay. Mornings like this would belie the reputation, and as we turned northwest with the channel, the breeze built and Roger had Strider rail down and grinning. But by 3pm the wind was coming around to our nose and building a short chop that had us in foulies and motoring pretty soon. The nuclear plant at Salem is all the more somber and grim in grey crummy conditions. It seemed fitting that as we left it behind and turned into the C&D canal, skies cleared and our soaking ended.
An hour and a half later we turned into the Chesapeake City basin and a capacity crowd with several boats circling to select their anchorage. We picked our way to the back of the basin and dropped the hook in 16 feet of water. A few minutes later a classic double ender pulled in next to us. I'll let Roger tell you about her. I took the dingy in to get Laura with our feast consisting of; a 20" shredded turkey hoagie with everything, hot; a fresh blueberry pie from the local orchard and a 6 pack of Sierra Nevada, and that clear Autumn evening sunshine to gild the edges.
Thanks for the ride!
Bob
Bought my Sabre near Cape May and made that run to Penobscot Bayiin 12 days with a good friend of mine! Great memories for sure!