Where traditions start . . .

I didn't know it at the time but Debbie and I started a sailing tradition this day.  She slaughtered me in 5 games of Russian Bank!  It's a fast card game with 2 decks.  Yes, there's luck involved but the ability to recognize quickly when the other player missed a move they had to make enabling you to yell, "STOP!" and take over their turn  . . . is invaluable.  Can't say I was a quitter.

Our course took us close to Boon Island.  A forlorn, windswept speck of land with a lighthouse it sits roughly 6 miles out to sea from the town of York, Maine.  On December 11, 1710, the British merchant ship Nottingham Galley wrecked on the rocks surrounding the island.  All 14 sailors survived the initial wrecking although 2 sucombed to their injuries.  Two more died while trying to make it to the mainland in a raft.  The rest managed to survive in winter conditions with no food or firewood for 24 days until they were rescued.  They resorted to cannibalizing their dead comrades before their rescue.  

After picking our way in in the dark, our anchor touched bottom at Cape Neddick.  I fixed dinner while Josh & Tyler went for a swim in the refreshing Maine water.  They tried to talk someone over the age of 16 into going in but no takers.

Fish Tales

Russ, Debbie and I slept on the boat and got her through the 0800 opening.  We anchored off the beach just outside the bridge and came back in to get charts (never thinking we were going to Maine, we hadn't bought our Maine charts), get kids, and the last bit of ice we were making in the freezer.

Finally loaded aboard with a Maine chartkit, new fishing lures which Tyler and Josh were eager to try, and my usual tons of food, we weighed anchor around 1100 and planned to buck the tide through Woods Hole.  Coast Guard helicopters and vessels reminded us of the desperate search underway for John F. Kennedy, Jr., his wife, Carolyn Bessett Kennedy, and her sister, Lauren Bessett.  It was a hot, hazy day and the night would be much like the night of the crash.  Hope for finding them alive was vanishing with each sweep of the second hand.  Now, hope was that they be found so their families could bury them.

Woods Hole is a hair raising, narrow channel with a whopping tide ripping through it.  We entered the bottleneck with the tide against us at 4 knots.  Motorsailing we make about 5 knots without pushing our 24 year old Westerbeke engine too hard.  We squeaked past the large buoy that was leaning towards us at a 45 degree angle, pushed over by the force of the current running against it, and made our way into the wider section where the current was not pitting its forces against us so directly and slogged our way to Buzzards Bay.

Buzzard's Bay is a good sized body of water with lots of boating traffic on a summer Sunday.  We sailed around hugh privately owned motor yachts with matching jet skis on deck, a side wheel boat called the Canal Queen that looked like she should've been plying the Mississippi's muddy waters and a parade of unusual and beautiful sailboats.

Our spanking speed of 7 1/2 knots seemed to Josh and Tyler perfect for inducing fish to try our new lure.  They put poles over the side and waited.  Josh abandoned the attempt and Tyler put his pole in the holder off the stern to troll for the critters.  ZIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG . . . the line played out.  "It's probably more seaweed."  "I think you've got a fish this time Tyler"  A beautiful fish was scooped up with a bucket and dumped into the cockpit well.  The shining skin reflected the afternoon sun and neither of the boys was too happy with the idea of killing such a beautiful animal.  But, the hook was too deeply embedded and he seemed destined for our dinner table.  Russ demonstrated his skill at cleaning what we'd identified as a 17" striped bass and we looked forward to tasting him later.

The small village of Onset at the southern end of the canal would be our place of refuge from the turning tide.  We swam, played water tag around the boat, had striped bass on crackers for appetizers (YUM!) and tacos for dinner.  Josh & Tyler rowed the dinghy ashore for a last junk food run and returned with chicken nuggets, potato chips and peppermint patties!  Final stowing and we were underway at 10pm, just in time to be followed by a tug pulling a huge barge with about a hundred containers stacked on top.  It really made the width of that canal seem tiny as we squeezed over to the side.

Debbie was a little nervous about standing a solo watch but gamely took the midnight to 2am stint.  Russ stayed up with her for a while and we sailed along in waters protected by the long reach of Cape Cod.

Lagoon Prisoners

I came back from the last e-mail check and heard the news that JFK, Jr's plane was missing.  We were glued to the TV with the rest of the nation as pieces of debris and a suitcase washed up on Philbin Beach near Gay Head/Aquinah. Thinking about what we'd been doing at 9:30pm last night when the plane went down added an eerie note to our stay.  What a sad tragedy.

If we were going to catch a favorable tide through the Cape Cod Canal we had to leave at the 3:30pm bridge opening.  We waved good-bye to Bibi, loaded kids, people and food onboard to make it.  We putted down the Lagoon to the drawbridge and waited . . . and waited . . . and waited . . . "Lagoon Pond Bridge Tender this is the sailing vessel Andante, over."  "Andante, this is the Lagoon Pond Bridge Tender.  It's too hot and the bridge is stuck.  I'll try again at 1900."  

Trapped by the bridge again!  We've been stuck on the outside several times due to heat swelling the bridge so that they can't get it open.  One time it'd been hit by lightning and they had to hand crank it.  We decided to try again at 1900 (7pm) and just anchor out since we were now missing our tide window.  Russ and I motored up to the bridge on schedule and the bridge tender must have really given up. He wasn't even there! 

4 if by land

We, Russ, Alison, Carolyn & Josh, piled into the car and drove to the Vineyard.  It was nice having some quite time there.  We swam, walked into town, bailed our dog out of the pound after a frantic night of searching for him, dealt with reality when we had to return business calls and e-mail and hung out.  An overnight trip across Vineyard Sound to Tarpaulin Cove with Bibi was a lot of fun.

Tarpaulin Cove is a beautiful anchorage with white sandy beaches, one house acting as sentinel, a large sign that actually says, "Welcome to Tarpaulin Cove" (vs. the large "No Trespassing" signs we've seen elsewhere) and a lighthouse.  As our anchor slipped into the glassy waters we watched deer drinking at the water's edge.  The tall ship Shenandoah sailed in and dropped anchor near us.  If you narrowed your line of sight, you could picture the cove filled with tall ships waiting for the tide so they could be on their way.  As we snuggled in for the night I couldn't help thinking how Chesapeake Bay sailors are not used to lying in their bunks and watching the sweep of a lighthouse's beacon pierce the night.

Carolyn left us on Friday, July 16.  She heads off to college this fall at William and Mary.  A summer job in NC raft guiding awaits her and she's eager to get to it.  They do grow up fast!  We were trying to finalize our plans to return home but the forecast was not looking great, SW winds 20-25 knots for the forseeable future!  Debbie and her son Tyler were coming to the Vineyard with the hopes that Tyler would be able to sail with us for a bit.  They arrived on Friday and we tried to figure out what we were going to do.  Slog to windward for 4 days and probably get no further than Atlantic City or have a great downwind sail to Maine and get there in 48 hours.  What a dilemma!  

Finally we bowed before the wind and decided to head for Maine.  It was the direction the wind was blowing, Russ' brother, Chris had a mooring where we could leave the boat safely and we found another cheap fare home for $65.  Now to convince Debbie to come along . . . YES!

Fini . . . for now

Wrapping up another stage of this disjointed but wonderful trip.  We picked up Chris' mooring, enjoyed a cookout, rested, got the boat ready for a month without us and headed back home.  Debbie & Tyler to Camden, Maine and Russ, Josh and me to Annapolis . . . back in a few weeks.

Land Ho!

The distinct red striated cliffs of Gay Head loomed out of the sea at 0600 on Sunday morning.  At the request of the local Native American population, Gay Head is now being called Aquinnah.  ) A quick call to Russ's Mom, Bibi, and see if she'd like to meet us for a short sail to Vineyard Haven.  We ducked into Menemsha to pick up our passengers, Bibi and Russ' sister, Debbie, who was up for a visit.  They ended up getting a bit of a ride from the short squall that hit as we rounded Middle Bank, the shallow spot which runs along the NW side of the Vineyard, a torrential downpour, but not much wind.  The rain cleaned the salt off the decks and crew quite nicely.

We made it into Lagoon Pond at the 1550 bridge opening and jumped in for a a swim.  A nice stay for a few days during an extreme heat wave.  It's nice to have cool water right outside the back door!  We left Andante bobbing on her secure mooring in front of Bibi's house on Tuesday morning and hopped on the wonderfully cheap SouthWest airlines.  The only problem with the cheap fare was that it was out of Providence and we had to get there.  Take the ferry to Woods Hole. Get on the bus to New Bedford. Switch to another bus in New Bedford after an hour lay-over and finally get to the airport.  Not too bad.

Russ and I spent a week at home.  Carolyn and Josh had spent the past month paddling the Grand Canyon with their Mother, Step-father, step-brothers, Uncle and some other paddling friends.  Carolyn ran everything in her kayak and Josh rowed an oar rig for parts of it and rode on an oar rig for the other parts.  

Foggy Encounters

The fog settled in on Saturday night, our last night out.  Rusty was on watch and I was in the v-berth trying to get a little shut eye.  The deep throbbing of a large ship's engine is an unmistakable sound.  The problem in the fog can be figuring out where it's coming from.  I heard the deep-throated call of her fog horn.  Then the little peep that was our fog horn. Back and forth they went, "BROOONG"   "BEEEEP" "BROOONG"  "BEEEP" Stopping just short of being frantic. Eventually the unseen behemoth moved along and we continued on our way.  

Mal de Mer

We left Cape May around 1000 hrs. on Friday July 2 after trying unsuccessfully to get our tri-color working.  The tri-color is a red, green and white light at the top of the mast.  It's to be used when we're under sail only.  Otherwise we have deck level running lights to use when we're motoring.  Turns out there was a problem with the connection at the base of the mast.  We'd have to rely on our trusty deck running lights for visibility.

Confused seas, a good breeze, beautiful skies, a little seasickness and a pod of leaping dolphins kept the trip interesting.  We had a really nice time hanging out on the foredeck on Saturday listening to Prairie Home Companion and having our first meal of the trip.  Everytime I'd talk about fixing something to eat Jerry would say, "Too much trouble."  Didn't have to convince me.  We were all suffering from a little seasickness, mal de mer.    Gee, I guess this is another diet cruise.  Maybe there's a market for this . . . 

Out of the Bay!

Up the Chesapeake, through the C&D Canal and down the Delaware.  Delaware Bay has always been our nemesis, dishing out storms, strong tides, shallow water, lots of huge ships and these large unmarked stakes that stick out of the water at an angle to mark something to do with fishing.  We got off relatively unscathed this time having only to deal with a turning tide before we reached the Cape May Canal.  We made it through the canal around midnight on Thursday and anchored in Cape May to get a little rest and get the boat ready for sea.  We'd thrown on so many things at the last minute that it was going to be a mess if we got into bad weather.