Cape May to the Cohansey River

Cape May Light House

I hate getting up early but Monday morning we got up before dawn.  We knew we were facing a potentially 10-12 hour journey to the Cohansey River 25 miles up Delaware Bay.  We would be fighting an adverse current and a headwind with no possible alternative stops.   I had been apprehensive about taking a short cut through shoals to get around the cape rather than travel many miles out to the ship channel.  I had visions of Symphony heeled over as the keel dragged sideways across a shoal.  Cruising guides warned that the shoals were constantly shifting and that Eph shoal in particular was moving toward the beach.  Maryanne had the first shock of the day when she couldn't turn the wheel as I pulled up the anchor.  I forgot to tell her about the lock on the wheel.  My bad.  She was not happy.  Because the seas were almost flat and the wind was mild I decided to follow some waypoints that were given to me this summer by a more experienced cruiser.  If the depth finder read 10 feet or under I planned first to panic and then to make the fastest U turn that I could.  My course brought me right straight into the beach by the Cape May lighthouse.  My stomach tightened at one point when the depth finder went to 15 feet but before I could implement my panic mode the depth increased.  The path through the shoals wasn't all that bad.  The adverse current only slowed us by 1 - 1.5 knots.  Just beyond the cape I could see a ferry headed across our path.  The Twin Capes seemed to be bearing down on us at 3 times our speed.  The AIS showed us clearing the ferry but just to be safe I called the captain on the VHF.  I offered to change course.  The captain was very reassuring.  "Skipper, I have you .3 miles ahead of me and clearing me by .1 of a mile but it's your call."  I told him I would maintain my course.  "OK, have a nice day" was his response.  I am really getting to like AIS.  It gave him and me the data for making the decision about collision avoidance and it gave me his name so that I could call him.

After 10 hours we arrived at the Cohansey River.  I didn't quite panic when the depth finder read 4 feet even though our draft is 5'5".  I was concerned.  Eventually I found deeper water and entered the river.  The Cohansey river experience will not soon be forgotten.  Swarms of flies converged on us by the thousands.  My pants turned black from all the flies.  If I shook my legs they flew around me and landed back on them instantly.  I couldn't even shake them off.  They bit painfully.  We were miserable.  It seemed to take forever to get far enough into the river to anchor.  That anchor got set as fast as I could get it over the side.  Maryanne backed down on it and we tried to duck into the cabin as our relentless pursuers followed.  I discovered that the flies inside the boat were drawn to the porthole screens.  I could push out the bottom of the screens and get them to fly away.  I was a little obsessed with this task for a good hour.  Meanwhile after a long exhausting day Maryanne decided to undertake an equally difficult culinary task.  Dinner was apple raisin stuffed pork chops, quinoa, and stir fried vegetables and salad.  Mmmm... unreal!  Although we were exhausted we decided that it would be best to leave the river the next morning before the flies had enough light to fly.

More Cape May

This summer it became clear that one of the highest priorities for Maryanne - to be worked out by Wednesday - was a plan to be in a port on Sunday where the New York Times was available.  I took a jog past Cape May's beautiful Victorian homes and ended the 3 miler just short of the Acme supermarket.  My stomach dropped at the sight of the empty NY Times shelf.  I checked - indeed they were sold out, but the WaWa by the Lobster House might have them.  The clerk warned me that it wasn't within walking distance.  (Maryanne and I had just covered that distance and then some the day before.)  My 3 miler became a 4 miler.  I ran with an added sense of urgency hoping against hope that I would get there before the last Times sold out.  Success!  I returned with not only a Times but also a Washington Post.

Later that day we loaded our Bike Friday Two'sday Tandem bike onto our dinghy for a quick tour of the Victorian homes that Maryanne had not had a chance to see on foot the day before.  The bike always gets lots of comments: "You fit THAT on a SAILBOAT?!"  Cape May has quite a collection of Victorians - many more than Sea Cliff next our home port.

We returned a little late to the boat.  Maryanne quickly lifted the 9.9 hp Tohatsu onto the rail and I slowly lifted the dinghy with a halyard onto the foredeck.  One question haunted me.  Could I successfully navigate through the shifting shoals close to Cape May or should I choose the safer and hours longer route out to the the ship channel.  The dire descriptions of chop on the very shallow Delaware Bay with a current against me all day had me worried.  We planned to leave as soon as there was enough light on Monday morning.

Cape May

Maryanne aka Wonder Woman lowered our new 83 lb Tohatsu into the dinghy without breaking a sweat.  The little crane we have on the stern helped.  The engine purred on the first pull of the starter cord and carried us into town faster at idling speed than our 2 hp did at full speed.  Unfortunately, on our return to the dock our brand shiny new outboard coughed a little and died when I pushed in the choke.  The engine refused to start.  Fortunately, the skipper of another dinghy offered us a tow.  For one mile we endured the ignominy of being towed with our new engine.  We couldn't thank our French speaking Samaritans enough.  A little time with the engine manual helped me learn how to start the engine if it didn't start on the first 5 tries.

Day 4: Overnight from Great Kills to Cape May

We decided to travel in the company of another  boat overnight from Great Kills to Cape May.  We met the captain, Steve, by VHF when he hailed us in lower NY Harbor.  He had told us that he usually sails overnight to Cape May from the Great Kills area.  We met him in person in the harbor and worked out our timing for the next day's departure.  We kept in contact by VHF at regular intervals coordinating motoring and sailing for the first few hours until a good breeze developed by noon.  Occasionally, we slowed to 3 knots but eventually we were making hull speed - 6 knots which we were able to maintain  during most of the sail to Cape May.  It was so nice to feel our 25,000 pound boat pushing through the water with no engine thrumming below - not to mention that we didn't have to burn any of the diesel fuel we paid $4.59 per gallon for at Great Kills.  Our 46 gallon tank would remain almost full.  It was a little spooky sailing in the dark.  Several times I glanced a big bright light close ahead only to realize I was looking at the moon.  It was a very clear and well moonlit night.  At any given time we could see a dozen boats or so heading in the same direction as we were in the small hours of the morning.  With the AIS (Automatic Identification System) the guesswork was taken out of determining where a tug or ship was heading.  The AIS tells you immediately how close you can expect to pass on your present course and in how long.  The system works only with other boats who have it.  Over a certain size it is required equipment.  We noticed through AIS that a boat, Ananda, was passing across our bow.  We hailed them and had a pleasant conversation with the helmsman.  When we inquired about our AIS data he went below to look at it and reported it to us.  Our AIS transmitter is working well.  He then explained that the reason he was crossing our bow was to avoid a large rectangular area (about 5 miles long) on the chart that said "Research Area - Numerous Buoys."  We were headed straight into that area.  Decisions, decisions.  I told him that I thought the moonlight ahead of us was adequate for seeing buoys unless they were small like lobster pots.  He agreed and said that there had been much debate among his crew about whether or not to go through.  I opted to go for it.  I checked with our friend, Steve, who said he had seen a few small buoys but that he was already in the middle of the area.  He didn't know what the notation "Numerous Buoys" meant either.  We went through with no problem.  I didn't want to have to sail down wind and try to pull in the sails tightly, heeled over, trying to get back up wind after ducking under the buoy area.  Fortunately, it worked out.  

The wind came up later in the evening strong enough so that I had to consider shortening sail - but I was too tired and the wind was not too strong yet.  There is an old adage among sailors that when you think its time to reef it's already too late.  Fortunately, I lucked out - the wind did not build any further, but it did make me realize that out at sea when the conditions get rough you are stuck out there - you can't just go home and wait for better conditions.  Maryanne did a great job of making me comfortable in the cold cockpit with spaghetti & meat sauce, hot chocolate, and yes - even fresh baked brownies.  Delicious.  That, long johns, 5 layers of shirts and jackets, plus a complete cockpit enclosure made the night bearable.  Maryanne who was not super psyched about doing an overnight sail handled it well.  I was surprised when she suggested that we try it.  She gets a medal for bravery.

Atlantic city was visible from more than 20 miles away.  One building was covered with animated lights that flashed constantly changing animated images that could be seen 10 miles away.  Atlantic City is a garish sparkling grotesque sight from offshore.  In contrast the sky lit up with stars when the reddish moon sank into horizon at 3:50 a.m.  I was not as tired as I thought I would be after a night without sleep.  We arrived at Cape May just after sunrise and anchored by 8 am.  After launching the dinghy I fell into my bunk until 6 pm.  I guess I was tired.

Great Kills

Great Kills proved to be an excellent harbor for protection from northwest winds.  The wind was gusting to 30 knots as we approached under sail.  The harbor seems to be filled with moorings but there was enough room to anchor between the mooring field and a retaining wall near a launching ramp.  The launching ramp was the scene of intense police activity.  Several police cars, a rescue truck, 2 police boats and a couple of police trailers were on the scene.  With the binoculars we could see several policemen staring down into the bottom of a police inflatable.  Later a group of them seemed to be carrying something out of the boat and into a trailer.  We had the feeling something very bad had happened.

Later after most of the police had left I took a 2 mile jog out to Crookes Point and back.  I pushed myself a little because I had forgotten to bring an extra lock to lock up the dinghy.  I had to decide between locking the dinghy to the dock or locking the engine to the dinghy.  I opted for securing the motor - not the dinghy.  After the jog I took a little swim under Symphony to scrape off the keel cooler for our refrigerator.  The keel cooler is a plate attached outside the hull through which the refrigerant passes to cool.  The water in Great Kills is cold and not clean.  I couldn't see more than about 6 inches so I had to feel around under the boat to find the plate.  I was able to scrape most of the barnacles off.  It took me 3 dives to feel around for the paddle wheel for our speedometer on the shady side of the boat.  I freed it up and we now can get a reading of our speed through the water vs. our speed over the bottom.  Finally I scraped all the small barnacles that had attached themselves to our folding propeller.  October isn't the best month for swimming in Staten Island.  It took me a good half hour to get rid of the chills after my hot shower in the cockpit.  I hope I don't get sick from the pollution!

Day 2

Above: (starting from the bottom)  The Throgs Neck Bridge - our first bridge of the journey; lower Manhattan; a container ship in Brooklyn stacked all the way up to the tall bridge - no wonder these containers are found floating just at the surface of the sea all over the world;  And finally, the Verrazano bridge - that's one verrry big bridge.

We have had a different NY experience from City Island through Hells Gate, under the bridges of the the East River and finally sailing down lower NY Harbor to Great Kills Harbor in Staten Island.  No matter how many times you have done it there is something special about seeing Manhattan from your boat.  With the current at times we were doing double our usual 5 knot speed.  It was fun to see that we were keeping up with the rush hour traffic on the FDR.  A loud roaring sound puzzled us until we realized we were hearing cars, trucks, and trains on bridges over our heads.  The river was not very busy - in contrast to the lower harbor that was full of ferries, tugs, ships, and barges.  We were able to sail the lower harbor and finally dowsed our sails as the wind gusted to 30 knots just as we arrived at the entrance to Great Kills Harbor.  We are fueled up and contemplating an overnight sail in the company of another boat from Ontario, Canada.

First day - 2 whole hours

Finally we are under way. A little rough with 20+ knots on our nose to start but then an hour of nice sailing to City Island Harbor. We figure at this rate we'll be in Cape May in 2 weeks. We'll have to pick up the pace a little. At 8:30 pm I'm listening to the promised 25 kt gusts howling through our rigging. This may call for letting out a little more anchor line.