Roger asked me to go ahead and write up this one, I'm pretty sure he's taking a well deserved :zzz: right now.
As any avid follower of Roger should already know, we left Atlantic City yesterday, originally intending on a non stop trip to Stamford, with a total crew complement of 3. Unfortunately the 3rd had a last minute work problem come up that prevented him from being able to make it. That didn't deter us, and we set out anyway, sticking to the original plan.
First a few facts:
-We departed Atlantic City at noon on Thursday (the 10th)
-The trip from Atlantic City to the Verrazano Narrows bridge is about 75nm
-Current in the Hudson under the Verrazano Narrows bridge shifted to flood at 9:40am this morning (the 11th), give or take a few minutes.
Our departure was under sunny skies and big puffy clouds, with winds around 15kts out of the NW. We really couldn't have asked for better conditions. We set sail almost immediately after getting into the Atlantic, bidding adieu to the City after arriving barley an hour before (and not a minute too soon).
We knew that as long as we made 3.5kts SOG we would make our target current window at the Verrazano bridge, but being the avid sailors we are, we didn't pass up the opportunity to reach offshore in a solid 15-20 kts of wind.
We had barley gotten the sails set when the wind picked up a little more as previously forecasted and was now 20-25 out of the NW. Instead of beating ourselves up (we had plenty of time) we double reefed the main and triple reefed the genoa, and set up the wind vane so we would be able to relax.
Roger set the vane up as we discussed the course and plans for the afternoon, as I took the helm, and then went below for a nap leaving me on watch. That would have been completely fine with me, except this was my first time operating a wind vane, the boat wasn't trimmed in yet, and he only gave me about 3 words of input on how to control it. It took me about 30 minutes of playing with everything to get the sails balanced and the self steering vane holding the boat on a nice tight course, but for the next few hours we had a wonderful relaxing sail. Roger made a great dinner and things couldn't have been going smoother.
Our first hint that the night wasn't going to be quite as easy as the day was when we ran across a dredge operating about 8 or 10 miles offshore, with a couple pumping stations along the way between it and shore, with sections of floating pipe connecting everything.
Once determining what we were looking at up ahead, Roger wasted no time and hailed the dredge on the radio to inquire if it was safe to pass over the pipe sections (it would have been an hour or more to go out and around the operation). The only problem was that the dredge operator could not understand anything Roger was saying. Thinking it was them, but just in case, we also tried hailing them on both of the handheld VHF radios, but we were out of range.:bang: Finally we gave up, reduced sail to just the main in order to slow down and took a parallel course to the pipe to look for anything near the surface, and after satisfying our concerns passed safely over the submerged pipe. This only delayed things by about 30 minutes.
The next few hours were still pleasant, and we had a fantastic sunset, but the wind started acting up a little and wasn't blowing as steady as it had. We eventually came within range of a SeaTow automated radio check station which we used to find that any time we keyed up the Mic on the radio, we were transmitting a very garbled static sound, making it nearly impossible to understand what was being said. We had no ships radio as far as transmit was concerned.:cussing:
Roger and I did a few 2 hour watches (we never discussed exactly how long we would stand watch, it just worked out that way), and sometime after dark (I don't remember when exactly) we furled the jib and started up the engine. We ran under the auto pilot for almost the entire rest of the night's leg.
Since we were making such good time we decided that we would drop anchor on the east side of Sandy Hook and get a few hours sleep, and leave in the morning to make the 9:40 current swing.
Roughly 1:45am Roger woke up and relieved me on watch after discussing that as soon as we round Sandy Hook we were going to drop the main and motor to where we intended on anchoring. Since we had about 15-20 minutes to kill before taking down the main I went below still in my foul weather gear, and laid down real quick by the heater to warm up, and not surprisingly, after 5 or 10 minutes I dozed off.
There are two kinds of people when they sleep on a boat. The kind that sleep normally as if it's any other place they would sleep at, and the kind that become completely aware of what is happening with the boat. I am of the latter variety, and while on my boat, will often briefly wake up if even a single wave slaps the hull from the wrong angle.
This was one of those times where I woke up knowing there was a problem, and as I replayed the sounds that caused me to wake up in my mind a few times, it was a big one. I really became conscious as I was already jumping to my feet and getting to the cockpit as fast as possible, already knowing that we had just lost the engine.
I was up in the cockpit by the time the engine turned it's last revolution and ground to a halt, and had jumped around Roger who was in front of the binnacle and got behind the helm about the same time he was putting the transmission into neutral to try and restart the engine. The engine restarted immediately, but had the life choked out of it as soon as he put it in gear (reverse) to try and clear the foul.
I disconnected the autopilot and took the helm while he started to investigate.
So now to recap the situation, we are battling current in the commercial shipping channel off Sandy Hook, at 2am, with no (long range) radio, and no engine, the main is up, but still double reefed (the forecast had called for the wind to pick back up overnight)
We discussed the situation and initially concluded that pretty much our only option was to sail into Gravesend Bay and drop anchor, and try to clear the prop in the morning. However due to the 1.5+ kts of current coming out of Lower Bay, we found that it was going to take significant effort with a number of tacks, and at least a couple more hours to reach that.
We then decided to make the only other harbor that we thought we could sail to and anchor, and go for the sandy shoals between Coney Island and Breezy Point, but even that proved too much for the current without additional tacks.
It was now almost 3:30am, and finally Roger said lets just drop in the first sandy shoal we cross that is 20 feet deep. As soon as the sounder hit 20, Roger threw the anchor out, letting the rode pay out, and we dropped the sail. Between the 1.8kts of current we were in, and the 15kts of wind, we ended up letting out nearly 9:1 scope before we got it secured, but the Delta held fast (and looked freshly sand blasted in the morning).
We got a few hours of much needed sleep despite being completely unprotected from anything in any direction and getting rocked pretty hard by the ocean swells coming in on the stern quarter.
About 6am we called Towboat US and got them to give us a tow into Marine Basin Marina in Gravesend Bay where they dropped us off at the fuel dock. The tide was still flowing out when we came in, and we read depth as low as 5.4ft coming into the marina.
After the towboat operator left us with his rather cynical attitude, we pulled out Rogers line cutting tool and got to work clearing the prop from the dock. It took all of 10 minutes and we were back under power and under way, right next to the Verrazano Narrows bridge, and 1 1/2 hours earlier than we planned.
What we found on the prop though, wasn't the lobster pot line that we expected, it was about 16sq feet of black tarp!:cussing:
We were early but decided to go ahead and motor into the Hudson against the current anyway, and use any extra time to pay a quick visit to Lady Liberty. Once the current swung at the entrance to the East River we headed into the river and had a nice push from the current all the way through the East River and to Execution Rocks, with our average SOG around 9kts.
We arrived back in Stamford at about 3pm and I immediately called a cab as I had to get home and take a 4pm conference call for work which I closed a $40k contract on :dance:
Freedom Tower under construction
Typical East River traffic
I know Roger is going to have some more to add to this (I'm sure I missed at least a few important facts he wanted to convey), including some more pictures (I took these), so stay tuned for more updates from him.
As any avid follower of Roger should already know, we left Atlantic City yesterday, originally intending on a non stop trip to Stamford, with a total crew complement of 3. Unfortunately the 3rd had a last minute work problem come up that prevented him from being able to make it. That didn't deter us, and we set out anyway, sticking to the original plan.
First a few facts:
-We departed Atlantic City at noon on Thursday (the 10th)
-The trip from Atlantic City to the Verrazano Narrows bridge is about 75nm
-Current in the Hudson under the Verrazano Narrows bridge shifted to flood at 9:40am this morning (the 11th), give or take a few minutes.
Our departure was under sunny skies and big puffy clouds, with winds around 15kts out of the NW. We really couldn't have asked for better conditions. We set sail almost immediately after getting into the Atlantic, bidding adieu to the City after arriving barley an hour before (and not a minute too soon).
We knew that as long as we made 3.5kts SOG we would make our target current window at the Verrazano bridge, but being the avid sailors we are, we didn't pass up the opportunity to reach offshore in a solid 15-20 kts of wind.
We had barley gotten the sails set when the wind picked up a little more as previously forecasted and was now 20-25 out of the NW. Instead of beating ourselves up (we had plenty of time) we double reefed the main and triple reefed the genoa, and set up the wind vane so we would be able to relax.Roger set the vane up as we discussed the course and plans for the afternoon, as I took the helm, and then went below for a nap leaving me on watch. That would have been completely fine with me, except this was my first time operating a wind vane, the boat wasn't trimmed in yet, and he only gave me about 3 words of input on how to control it.
It took me about 30 minutes of playing with everything to get the sails balanced and the self steering vane holding the boat on a nice tight course, but for the next few hours we had a wonderful relaxing sail. Roger made a great dinner and things couldn't have been going smoother.Our first hint that the night wasn't going to be quite as easy as the day was when we ran across a dredge operating about 8 or 10 miles offshore, with a couple pumping stations along the way between it and shore, with sections of floating pipe connecting everything.
Once determining what we were looking at up ahead, Roger wasted no time and hailed the dredge on the radio to inquire if it was safe to pass over the pipe sections (it would have been an hour or more to go out and around the operation). The only problem was that the dredge operator could not understand anything Roger was saying. Thinking it was them, but just in case, we also tried hailing them on both of the handheld VHF radios, but we were out of range.:bang: Finally we gave up, reduced sail to just the main in order to slow down and took a parallel course to the pipe to look for anything near the surface, and after satisfying our concerns passed safely over the submerged pipe. This only delayed things by about 30 minutes.
The next few hours were still pleasant, and we had a fantastic sunset, but the wind started acting up a little and wasn't blowing as steady as it had. We eventually came within range of a SeaTow automated radio check station which we used to find that any time we keyed up the Mic on the radio, we were transmitting a very garbled static sound, making it nearly impossible to understand what was being said. We had no ships radio as far as transmit was concerned.:cussing:
Roger and I did a few 2 hour watches (we never discussed exactly how long we would stand watch, it just worked out that way), and sometime after dark (I don't remember when exactly) we furled the jib and started up the engine. We ran under the auto pilot for almost the entire rest of the night's leg.
Since we were making such good time we decided that we would drop anchor on the east side of Sandy Hook and get a few hours sleep, and leave in the morning to make the 9:40 current swing.
Roughly 1:45am Roger woke up and relieved me on watch after discussing that as soon as we round Sandy Hook we were going to drop the main and motor to where we intended on anchoring. Since we had about 15-20 minutes to kill before taking down the main I went below still in my foul weather gear, and laid down real quick by the heater to warm up, and not surprisingly, after 5 or 10 minutes I dozed off.
There are two kinds of people when they sleep on a boat. The kind that sleep normally as if it's any other place they would sleep at, and the kind that become completely aware of what is happening with the boat. I am of the latter variety, and while on my boat, will often briefly wake up if even a single wave slaps the hull from the wrong angle.
This was one of those times where I woke up knowing there was a problem, and as I replayed the sounds that caused me to wake up in my mind a few times, it was a big one. I really became conscious as I was already jumping to my feet and getting to the cockpit as fast as possible, already knowing that we had just lost the engine.
I was up in the cockpit by the time the engine turned it's last revolution and ground to a halt, and had jumped around Roger who was in front of the binnacle and got behind the helm about the same time he was putting the transmission into neutral to try and restart the engine. The engine restarted immediately, but had the life choked out of it as soon as he put it in gear (reverse) to try and clear the foul.
I disconnected the autopilot and took the helm while he started to investigate.
So now to recap the situation, we are battling current in the commercial shipping channel off Sandy Hook, at 2am, with no (long range) radio, and no engine, the main is up, but still double reefed (the forecast had called for the wind to pick back up overnight)
We discussed the situation and initially concluded that pretty much our only option was to sail into Gravesend Bay and drop anchor, and try to clear the prop in the morning. However due to the 1.5+ kts of current coming out of Lower Bay, we found that it was going to take significant effort with a number of tacks, and at least a couple more hours to reach that.
We then decided to make the only other harbor that we thought we could sail to and anchor, and go for the sandy shoals between Coney Island and Breezy Point, but even that proved too much for the current without additional tacks.
It was now almost 3:30am, and finally Roger said lets just drop in the first sandy shoal we cross that is 20 feet deep. As soon as the sounder hit 20, Roger threw the anchor out, letting the rode pay out, and we dropped the sail. Between the 1.8kts of current we were in, and the 15kts of wind, we ended up letting out nearly 9:1 scope before we got it secured, but the Delta held fast (and looked freshly sand blasted in the morning).
We got a few hours of much needed sleep despite being completely unprotected from anything in any direction and getting rocked pretty hard by the ocean swells coming in on the stern quarter.
About 6am we called Towboat US and got them to give us a tow into Marine Basin Marina in Gravesend Bay where they dropped us off at the fuel dock. The tide was still flowing out when we came in, and we read depth as low as 5.4ft coming into the marina.
After the towboat operator left us with his rather cynical attitude, we pulled out Rogers line cutting tool and got to work clearing the prop from the dock. It took all of 10 minutes and we were back under power and under way, right next to the Verrazano Narrows bridge, and 1 1/2 hours earlier than we planned.
What we found on the prop though, wasn't the lobster pot line that we expected, it was about 16sq feet of black tarp!:cussing:
We were early but decided to go ahead and motor into the Hudson against the current anyway, and use any extra time to pay a quick visit to Lady Liberty. Once the current swung at the entrance to the East River we headed into the river and had a nice push from the current all the way through the East River and to Execution Rocks, with our average SOG around 9kts.
We arrived back in Stamford at about 3pm and I immediately called a cab as I had to get home and take a 4pm conference call for work which I closed a $40k contract on :dance:
Freedom Tower under construction
Typical East River traffic
I know Roger is going to have some more to add to this (I'm sure I missed at least a few important facts he wanted to convey), including some more pictures (I took these), so stay tuned for more updates from him.
