Fog …
Monday 2nd – Tuesday 3rd July 2018
A pre-dawn start, beautiful sunrise out on the water, a long
laid-back motor sail up the coast of Long Island in light winds and a peaceful,
reflective night, returning to our home port of East Greenwich, RI under starry
skies … this was what was supposed to happen. We were fortunate to get most of
this, but by 8 pm, as the sun was starting to set, we began to realize that
visibility was far from ideal. By the time we reached Montauk Point we were
totally socked in by fog. It was pitch black and the few stars we could see did
little to lighten the night and even these soon disappeared. We didn’t see
Montauk light, despite being less than two miles away. We didn’t see the lights
from any other vessels, although there were plenty of them around. The moon
wasn’t due to rise until 11.30 pm but we just kept motoring into the gloom
relying totally on our electronic instruments to direct us and reveal obstacles
in the way. We do have a great radar system (Simrad) and the AIS (automatic
identification system) is outstanding, but only shows boats that have that
system. Under these circumstances it feels like you are flying along and you
simply have to trust the instruments, just like aircraft pilots in cloud or
fog. We passed Block Island before midnight and it seems the breeze flowing
over the warm land helped reduce the fog and we caught a brief glimpse of the
moon. However, as soon as we passed the island the fog settled in thicker than
ever. The whole boat was cold and soaking and we were wrapped up in full
foul-weather gear. We managed to navigate our way around a tug and barge on our
way to the entrance of Narragansett Bay; we ‘saw’ them on AIS / radar and spoke
to them on the radio to clarify our actions, but we never actually saw them.
Then we briefly saw the lighthouse at Point Judith as a faint glow and could
not see Beavertail lighthouse even though
it was only half a mile away. By
3am were close to the Jamestown bridge when we realized that all the fancy GPS
and radar wasn’t going to help us find the correct passage between the pillars
– the whole thing would appear as one uninterrupted barrier. We decided that it
was smart to pause at this point and take a break, so we pulled in to Dutch
Harbor and based purely on instruments found a safe spot to drop the anchor.
What a relief! The last 7 hours had been some of the most tiring sailing of my
life.
We slept a few hours and got up at 7.30 am to find the world
still cloaked in fog. But after a leisurely breakfast, the fog lifted and we could
see where we had anchored. It looked pretty reasonable! We left shortly after 9
am and headed up the bay back to East Greenwich. It felt stiflingly hot under a
blazing sun with just enough southerly wind to cancel out the breeze our forward
momentum. We made a quick stop at the dock to wash the deck and fill the tanks
with fresh water, and then we were back on our mooring. We feel a mixture of
pleasure / accomplishment that we completed the trip, excitement to be going
back home and starting new activities, and sadness that the adventure is over.
In our final blog (for this trip) we will reflect on what we thought of our
Caribbean adventure … coming soon!
Mike
A picture perfect sunrise - the water was glassy ... no wind no waves and next to no swell. p.s. If you are wondering there is no extra saturation or color added to this shot. This is what it looked like ... albeit through a telephoto lens
Fishing boat in the early morning light off Sandy Hook
Motor-sailing in dense fog - I'm moving around during the course of the exposure (~ 3 minutes F11) because we couldn't afford to leave the instruments un-attended in the fog
Jamestown Bridge on Tuesday morning after the fog dispersed ... B&W negative
So glad you made it through the fog! I won't see you in RI as II am in Maine. Hope to see you soon.
ReplyDelete