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.
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