Date: 11/4/99
Port of Call: Annapolis, Maryland
Subject: Passage from Newport
We finally got the new sails straightened out and left Newport on October 29. We left the harbor with a couple of possibilities in mind for the trip ahead. One was to head offshore straight for Norfolk, VA, and the other was to sail coastwise along the shores of Long Island and New Jersey. The New England fall weather is quite changeable, and we wanted to keep our options open.
The forecast was for north to northwest winds, promising a nice broad reach or run with fair winds as we made up our minds on which way to go. However, as we motored out the Narragansett River and across Block Island Sound, the wind was defiantly southwest--exactly the direction we were heading, and definitely not the forecast direction! Fortunately it was only blowing 10 to 15 knots, and we motored into it with little difficulty. By around sunset, the wind had shifted to the west-southwest, and then west, but had also dropped to less than five knots, so we continued to motor through the night.
Passagemaking at night is always very different from daylight sailing. It even seems special despite (or perhaps because of) the loss of sleep caused by having to stand watches--three hours on and three hours off--throughout the night. The green and red running lights shine on waves creased by the bow, creating magical showers of emeralds and rubies. Once out of sight of land, the stars shine with a brilliance never matched ashore. Time is measured by the slow pace of the Big Dipper spilling its cup full of stars, or Orion climbing up out of the ocean to hunt in the heavens. The planets are bright enough that the water shimmers molten silver with their reflections. An occasional shooting star adds an instant thrill to the otherwise slow occupation of watch standing.
The first night passes, as does the next day. During the second night, we watch the loom of Atlantic City's lights give way to glimpses of the tops of the tallest casinos. As we close in on our waypoint off the Delaware Bay, we have to decide which way to go. The forecast of southwest winds convinces us that it is better to turn up the Delaware Bay than try to beat into headwinds towards Norfolk. We negotiate the busy channel of the Delaware River for half the next night and another half of the following day, then turn into the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. Coming out the west side of the canal in late afternoon, we make for an anchorage in Still Pond Creek before darkness descends. We just have time to negotiate the tricky entrance (running aground briefly once) and pick up a mooring in the creek before it is too dark to see.
Fall colors, C&D Canal
The anchorage is
full of the sound of hundreds, or perhaps thousands of geese spending the
night. Weeks ago, while we were waiting in Maine for the boatyard
to finish replacing the engine, we watched as V-shaped flocks of geese
flew south, leaving us behind in the cold weather. Catching up with
the geese is a good sign, as it means we are almost as far south as we
should be at this time of year. We fall into bed exhausted, and our
sleep is so deep that we don't hear the geese at all.
The next morning, after 13 hours of sleep, we get up, eat breakfast, and slip the mooring line. Heading out the entrance of Still Pond Creek, we make a turn to miss the sandbar we had nudged the night before, and plow into another sandbar. The swift current pushes us sideways onto the bar, and we are quickly hard aground. After deciding that the engine alone won't free us, we unroll the dinghy from its passagemaking position on deck and inflate it. We drop the outboard engine onto the dinghy and try to use the dinghy as a maneuvering tug, forcing the bow one way and then the other to break the suction of the mud on the keel. Even this doesn't work, and so we drop Sovereign's anchor into the dinghy and haul it into deeper water. Finally the combination of the powerful anchor windlass pulling against our heavy anchor, plus full throttle on both the dinghy's and Sovereign's engines breaks us loose. We briefly touch bottom one more time before finally clearing the entrance of the creek. It has taken us over an hour to get only a few hundred yards from the mooring out into open water.
Sunset, Chesapeake Bay
The rest of the
trip is comparatively uneventful, and we arrive at Annapolis by mid-afternoon.
Waiting for us at the mouth of the Severn River are Glyn and Jenny on Wandering
Star. We have not seen them since the end of August, and it is wonderful
to see Wandering Star's familiar lines, and Glyn and Jenny's smiling faces.
We follow them to a mooring in Weems Creek, and we start catching up on
each others travels and travails.
Climbing mast to install storm trysail track
Our few days here
in Annapolis have been very busy. Glyn and Jenny borrowed a car from
a friend and took us around the circuit of boating stores here. Today
Cathy hauled me up the mast so I could mount an additional sail track for
our new storm trysail. We hope to provision tomorrow and then head
south down the Chesapeake Bay toward Hampton, VA.
Smooth sailing,
Jim and Cathy