Independence Day—flowing into In Dependence Day, In Depends Day, It Depends Day. Here we are on the mooring in Port Washington, Long Island; as we have been for the last week. Lovely place, this, but worth a week? It is when repairs have to be made! Ah, yes, of course—the definition of cruising is “fixing stuff away from your home port”. Sailing does indeed foster and promote Independence—and demonstrates on how much we Depend on wind, tides, and others.
The immediate cause of our station keeping in Washington’s Port has to do with Whiskers…no, not the kind I let grow for 4 days and then scrape away (occasionally with some bloody result); whisker stays on the bow of Mistress is the reference. (They support the bowsprit from side to side.) Seems the attachment points on the hull, the tangs, are no longer in the best of shape—indeed, to use the proper terminology, are bent to hell. Ah, you think, there must be a story there—and you would be correct. Read on, if you dare or care to be fair, for the flair.
We left the house and hearth and dock in Annapolis almost 3 weeks ago. As with any voyage, leaving the dock can be the hardest aspect. There is always more to do and to get before being “ready”. But leave we did, and motored the miles and miles (perhaps 6 in all) to Whitehall Bay, just past and north of Annapolis—a grand first leg. So nice a spot that we spent two nights there, getting re-accustomed to life aboard. And more importantly, giving the pups a chance to learn they don’t need a bush and grass to do their business. Amazing how long one can “hold it” if necessary. Learn the lesson they did not, but eventually nature wins.
Off we go, to continue up the Chesapeake to the C and D canal—another calm day, giving the diesel a chance to shine (more on that coming up!). A night at Schaefer’s on the canal, with only one escape attempt by the boys—thwarted when a young lass scooped up the wayward Traveler and “frightened” Hitchens back to the boat. We’ll have to re-rig the netting in the future.
Two stops down the Delaware followed, notable for the hundreds of unwanted hitchhikers we acquired—those pesky flies. Julie was not happy; and if Julie is not happy…but we anchor off Lewes for a couple days and manage to obtain various fly strips, fly paper, fly zappers, fly cones—we could write a Consumer Reports on flycatchers. The sticky strips of fly paper worked best, but Julie was a close second with her lightning flash hand claps—sometimes getting two at once. Death From the Sides!
Good buddy Bee met us at the town dock in Lewes, and lends us his car for the duration, which gave us the wherewithal to shop as necessary. But even better was the find of the Lewes City Dog Park—at least in the opinion of Hitch and Trav. They had their first real chance to stretch their legs and RUN since our departure—and to chase and be chased by other pups. Good fun for all.
Off we go to Atlantic City. The plan is to pick up fuel and water if necessary, and also pick up One Tack Ted for the next leg. Again, it’s a motor up the coast—a fairly short leg and little wind. The inlet to the city has quite the tidal flow and a large dredging barge just north of the entrance (which is a prelude to the “story” previously mentioned). Anchor down, dinghy launched, ready to gamble! (Just kidding—most know I only gamble with my life, not my money…) There is a small beach to run/walk the boys, which we take advantage of. To our delight the next morning, Teddy shows on the beach with an offer of breakfast that he delivers—omelet and blueberry pancakes—no one is quite like One Tack Ted. (I suppose we could just call him OTT, which according to the Urban Dictionary, stands for “over the top”. A complement to deserving individuals, of whom Ted is certainly one.)
We contemplate leaving for NYC Friday, after Ted is out of work, but weather and tides suggest Saturday noonish would be best. (Your patience is rewarded—here comes the story.) There’s a moderate SE wind, and a strong ebb tide out the inlet which we will ride. The wind and tide are in opposition, which creates some rolly waves at the entrance. Off we go…. (I’ve been switching fuel tanks to make sure we have good flow from both. There was a hiccup from one on the way to Atlantic City, and while there I drained, cleaned and replaced the filtering system. Recall, it’s been a while since we last ran Mistress.) Like I said, off we go. At the worst possible moment, riding the tide out, the engine quits. No restart. Go down to switch tanks…no restart. Then, to add insult to injury, the starter motor decides not to crank at all. Teddy suggests we raise the foresail as my thoughts move in the same direction. Up it goes, halfway, as the City Police boat shows on scene to ask if we need help. Ya Think?! Remember the dredging barge…it’s a lot closer now. We might have been able to sail out of harms way, but prudence is the better part of valor, and so we take the police boat’s line. He doesn’t have the power to pull us against the tide back to the harbor, but does take us into deeper water away from the shallows and other hard things. Their job done, the police suggest we use our insurance (doesn’t everyone have Sea Tow insurance?) and call for a tow. Ha ho! But lo, the Coast Guard is on hand, and though there is no longer any “danger” they decide this would be an excellent training opportunity, and they offer to tow us back to the dock. How can I refuse?
We take their bridle, through the chocks, and off to the races we go. There’s some back and forth on the radio—them telling me to keep my rudder centered, and I asking them to slow down. One of the training points certainly could be that a 40 ton full keel boat has a lot of momentum will track as it will unless I fight to keep it behind the tow, and the faster one goes the harder that task will be. A couple “pops” are heard along the way—to discover shortly that the bridle has ripped out the bow chocks and tossed them to the wind and seas (ah, they were two different styles anyway, and I can repair the rail…). In any event, they place us alongside at the Golden Nugget Marina, which indeed has the clientele one might expect. Now my work starts…to track down the suspected clogged fuel lines and inspect the rigging. To the tanks I go, and slime I find. Though fuel flow had been sufficient up to that point, the rough ride at the inlet apparently churned up enough gunk that it collected and blocked the fuel line at the valve. Both tanks and valves are cleared, but then there’s the question of why the starter motor quit…and there’s a loose wire! Hooray, not hours of tracking unseen electrons! At least with fuel one can track from where it is to where it ain’t easily. I’ve rarely had such luck with electrons. Ah, but the chocks are gone, leaving screw holes and a cracked rail—and the whisker stays tangs have been bent and pulled away from the hull. More cruising fun to tackle. The captain of the Coast Guard makes a courtesy call later, and informs me the CG will pay for any damage—but I demur, knowing I’m going to have to fix this anyway, and just glad we’re not on the rocks.
Well now, it’s 7pm, still light, motor running, and Teddy is still able and willing. We drop the tarps (it was hot), take in the lines, and head back into the inlet. The wind is greatly reduced, almost calm, as is the inlet. Out we go, hang a left, and we’re New York bound. An uneventful evening is followed by a dawn entrance to the greater NYC basin, dropping anchor right behind Lady Liberty herself. Teddy decamps, or de-boats as the case may be, to many grateful thanks. We set up to enjoy our environs for the next two nights, reveling in the sights and lights of lower Manhattan. But we have to fix the stays, and we can’t do it here.
Up early to catch the tide up the East River, and NYC girl Julie is ecstatic. She has never seen her former digs from this angle. T’is quite the sight, and most run riding with a 5 knot current. It’s a glorious and cool day, the boys enjoying the view and the other boats, expressing themselves to each and every one. Manhasset Bay seems like a good stop—more options and shops than Mistress’s old port of Oyster Bay, just a few miles further.
So here we sit on the mooring (I love moorings!), running the boys on the beach, enjoying the nightly fireworks all last weekend, fixing the watermaker, fixing the water washdown system, varnishing the topsides, splicing lines, dressing ship for the holidays, and yes, prepping the bow for the new whiskerstay tangs that our good friend Pete at Port Townsend Foundry has cast and will soon ship to us. By this time next week we should be well on our way. Hope to see some of you along the way.
Thanks Monk, you always had a flair for every detail. That, my friend is what makes you a sailor. Keep up the banter sir! Whenever you are transiting the Beaufort Inlet, gimme a shout and I will have a SuzyQ, the infamous Suburban at the pier in the lot. Vicariously, Quinn.
LikeLike
I feel like I am taking the trip with you! So delightful to here your tale and then here it from Julie! I must say she had me on the edge of my seat!
Joyce/Ma
LikeLike
Beeper- thanks for your note! What a small world!!!! Yes my brother Larry and I lived in Bay Crest. just down bay avenue from where you lived, if I remember correctly. At the time we were sailing thistles and L-16s. And I do remember Topper! Give him my best!! and So nice that we share memories of “Mistress” Glenn can tell you how we connected!!!
LikeLike
Hello Beeper – did you use to live in Huntington/ and attend Nathan Hale elementary school? late 50/s ?
LikeLike
Yes! Huntington Bay, to be exact. Miss Moss, 6th grade teacher. Hahhahahaaaha. Your name sounds very familiar.
LikeLike
Jay, my brother Bobby just updated me. Seems you and your brother were older, more like my brother Topper’s age…? You lived near Zuzzi’s house? Near Mack’s.
Did you guys sail out of HYC? We owned Perroquette, Gamecock and other boats there. –Beeper.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the sailing stories!
LikeLike
Meaning you don’t like the political rants? More stories coming…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad to get the update. I know the schooner is constant up keep just hope the hardest is over for this trip.
My Aunt and her family lived in Port Washington and I had many, many fun times there.
Love,
Deedie
LikeLiked by 1 person
Forgot to mention: Sherman Hoyt, her designer, used to baby sit me! Hahahaha.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You guys, well written and very much appreciated. Almost like being there.
We used to sail next to her, when I was a boy. My dad and George Roosevelt waving appreciatively; we, aboard an old, lovely Herreshoff sloop.
Am coming east before too long and would love to see her again, in the flesh.
Will let you know. Have some interesting Mistress/Oyster Bay/Long Island Sound stories to share.
Best,
Beeper Moore.
LikeLiked by 1 person