Names and more

Names and more

Saturday, October 17, 2020

I have had a strong interest in boat names that I trace back to 2008.  When we bought our current boat (then named Diva) we needed to select a new name and really struggled.  So I’m curious about the names people select for their vessels, although mostly we don’t find out why.... Today on the radio we heard of boats called W.C. Fields, Zeus, Elixir (got to love that one), Healing Power (perhaps ‘heeling power’ as a pun).  In New York harbor I saw a Canadian boat called “Bonne Excuse”. In the past we liked the name “Field Trip”

We are now in the Chesapeake Bay where there are lots of interesting and different names.  Last night we had options for anchorage in the Bohemia River, the Sassafras River and Worton Creek. Consider these other place names: Havre de Grace, Great Wicomico River, Patapsco River, Magothy River (should that be said ‘maggoty’?)  One of the possible destinations for another night is the Choptank River.  That location would allow us to visit a town with aspirations—called Oxford.  Somewhere further along the shore is the rival town of Cambridge! Wouldn’t you like to know the origin of the more exotic names?  Well, the Choptank River is named for a native tribe of the area.  The word “tshapetank” in the Nanticoke language meant “a stream that separates”.  There’s one mystery solved. 

The Chesapeake has a reputation as a sailing center.  As we made our way southward today, it was very noticeable how many sailing boats there were.  In the vicinity of the Magothy River, there appeared to be a multiple races underway.  We managed to stay out of the way for the most part and are now anchored off Dobbins Island in the Magothy.

The sun is shining and it’s lovely!

Gloria

39 04.836 N, 76 27.663 W

Ripples - 1

Ripples - 2

Ripples - 3

A double exposure shot of ripples on the water, rotated 90o between shots

The benefits of Rain

The benefits of Rain

Friday 16th October 2020

It’s been a cold and wet day, but on the whole I’m happy it rained. I suppose coming from the UK you have to like rain at least a little bit. I can’t honestly say that the Delaware River looks any better on a rainy day, but could it look worse than it does on a clear day? if you can’t see the nuclear power station a mile away then maybe that’s an advantage. One of the huge benefits of the rain has been to give the boat a good wash down. Everything was drenched in salt-water spray during our recent offshore passage and we don’t carry enough fresh water to have enough spare to hose down the boat, so this was great. Even our foul weather gear was encrusted in salt and it got a good rinse as we wore it while making our way across the Chesapeake Delaware Canal into Chesapeake Bay. We both got pretty cold but at least our gear got washed. We also saw six Bald Eagles during the trip – it was like they came out to play in the rain. By mid afternoon we were anchored in the Sassafras River in splendid isolation. There isn’t another boat in sight.  All was grey and dreary until about 6 pm when a band of clear sky appeared on the horizon and the sun briefly dipped below it. There’s no doubt that the best sunsets happen when there is some cloud around and this particular sunset was stellar, another benefit of the rain.

We plan to amble down Chesapeake Bay over the next ten days or so. It’s supposed to warm up after the weekend so we’re looking forward to a relaxing time.

Mike

39 22.969 N, 76 01.383 W

Anchored in the Sassafras River

Sunset Sassafras River - wide angle panorama

Sunset Sassafras River - telephoto panorama

Sunset Sassafras River - telephoto panorama (note: the highlights on the houses are just reflections of the sunset)

Sunset Sassafras River - telephoto abstract

That Jolly, Jet-Lagged Feeling

That Jolly, Jet-Lagged Feeling

Thursday October 15, 2020

Usually, that feeling is a result of an overnight flight to Europe.  You arrive at the airport of your destination shaky and distinctly unwell.  Standing in line for passport control seems like more than you can manage.... Today we feel something similar after our 27-hour passage from Staten Island to the northern end of the Delaware Bay.  Certainly the lack of sleep is a large contributor to that puny feeling.

We set out on Wednesday morning at about 6:30 am.  A gorgeous rosy sunrise appeared as we crossed New York harbor to Sandy Hook.  We rounded the point at Sandy Hook about an hour later and were expecting the 120-mile trip down the coast of New Jersey to take about 20 hours.  Our plan was to avoid Cape May, where severe shoaling has been reported.  The alternative was to carry on into the Delaware Bay.  If we could maintain an average speed of 6 knots, we should be in a good position to catch the flood tide up the Delaware Bay. 

For the first four hours we has east winds of 10 -15 and we sailed nicely. Actually it was really lovely.  Then the wind fizzled and we started to motor.  Once the breeze filled back in it was 10-15+ from the south-west - just the direction we were needing to go.  Very quickly a wind driven chop developed.  Checking the forecast again, we saw that the breeze would stay 10 -15 until after midnight and remain right on the nose. The chop was pretty unpleasant with the bow launching off waves and crashing down with a judder that inhibited our forward progress.  At times the waves would slam the anchor into stainless steel fitting on the bow – a horrifying noise. Spray was coming back into the cockpit.  Full foul weather gear was a must.  The prospect of nearly 8 hours of these conditions was pretty daunting.  We wound up motor-tacking.  That is we would motor at an angle to our desired course to keep the mainsail working and to ride the waves more smoothly.  After stepping out to sea for a while we would switch to the other ”tack” and move in toward the shore.  This of course results in a longer distance.  Combined with our reduced speed, we feared that we wouldn’t catch the favorable tide into the Delaware Bay.

Around about 10 pm the wind seemed to be dropping into the 10-11 knot range. The seas eased a bit and we were counting our blessings. At this point it finally seemed feasible to heat up our dinner. Then around midnight the breeze was back to 15 knots and we were slamming into the waves again. We had debated ducking into Atlantic City but the forecast for Thursday was 15-20 gusting 25 from the southwest (with a small craft advisory).  A trip into Atlantic City likely meant being stuck for several days. Once we were able to make the turn into the Delaware Bay conditions improved dramatically.  We caught the favorable tide and scooted up the bay as the sun rose.  By 10 am we were anchored at Reedy Island across from what appears to be a nuclear power station.  

While the currents would have allowed us to continue into the C-D canal, we felt the need of a rest.  The wind blew 10-17 knots all the way up here. It’s still blowing strongly from the south-west (20-26 knots!)   

Gloria 

39 30.668 N, 75 34.384 W

please see below the first ever videos I have recorded on my camera! Apologies for the wind noise - I think the camera microphone is very sensitive and I need to figure out how to deal with that. Please let me know if these work / don't work for you.

Cell phone connection is terrible here so I'll add another video and some photos later

Gliding along under perfect beam-reach conditions .... if only it had lasted

Gloria on watch during the morning when conditions were perfect. The autopilot steers the boat and it is mostly about keeping an eye open for other vessels - and there are a lot on the coast of New Jersey

New York at dawn from south of the Verazzanno bridge

A tired red breasted nuthatch dropped in for a rest a couple of miles off the coast of New Jersey

Sunset off Atlantic City, NJ

Dusk off Atlantic City, NJ

Night off Atlantic City, NJ

The Atlantic Buenavista in the Delaware Bay shipping channel. A terrible photo - wrong lens, too little light and slow shutter, but I like it because you get a sense of the big ships you encounter and motion

Sunrise in Delaware Bay - a welcome sight

Preparing for an offshore passage

Preparing for an offshore passage

Tuesday 13th October 2020

I didn’t have the greatest start to the day. Before dawn, I got up to try and address a clanging halyard that was interrupting my sleep. I happened to look over the side of the boat and couldn’t see the dinghy where it had been lying, tied up to the side of Cotinga. I looked harder and still couldn’t see it and was instantly convinced that the “Dumb Dog”, along with the outboard, had been stolen. I was very distressed, kicking myself for not locking it up, as the impact of this catastrophe started to dawn on me. After a few painful moments I looked further forward and realized that the dinghy was actually lying close to the bow because the wind had switched direction.  The outboard motor was still mounted on the rail of Cotinga where it has been for the past several days. This is not the first time I’ve gotten up in the middle of the night and panicked that the dinghy had been stolen. I guess I’m not very mentally sharp at that time of day!

Tomorrow morning we hope to head out of New York Bay and make our way south to Delaware Bay. If all goes to plan we are going to skip going into Cape May and continue directly up Delaware Bay about fifty miles to an anchorage just before the canal that cuts across to Chesapeake Bay. It’s about 125 nautical miles from here (or to be precise Sandy Hook) to the entrance of Delaware Bay and whilst we’ll stay fairly close to shore, Atlantic City (80 miles south) is the only harbor that we could safely enter before Cape May (120 miles south). So we are preparing as if this were a significant offshore passage. 

We filled up our water tanks and our three reserve diesel jerry cans. We pulled the dinghy up on dock to clean the bottom and then hoisted it up onto the foredeck, deflated it, rolled it up and tied it down. We set up our removable inner forestay and fitted the “stay-sail” ready for use. This evening, after an excellent dinner of chicken fajitas, we are making sandwiches for lunch and a flask of coffee for an early start. We have some left over lentil soup and sausage that will make a fine dinner tomorrow evening. The forecast looks reasonable and we are hoping that the winds will stay out of the west rather than south-west so that we aren’t beating our brains out all the way down.

This afternoon the rain finally stopped (we must have tipped 20 gallons of water out of the dinghy this morning) and we found time to take a walk around the inlet that is Great Kill harbor. It's actually a nature reserve, very pleasant to walk around and we saw lots of birds presumably on migration. Within the harbor we also saw six or seven wrecked boats that were either completely sunk, except for their masts sticking above water, or washed up on shore. In some cases it was obvious that they had been dragged with their moorings onto the rocks. This could have been during hurricane Sandy, but that seems like a long time ago (2012), or maybe some more recent storm. It’s quite distressing to see this.

We won’t be posting tomorrow.

Mike

Cleaning the bottom of the dinghy. We were pleasantly surprised that after ten weeks in the water there was only a little slime that was easy to brush off and no barnacles. This particular anti-fouling paint actually seems to work!

Another view of the dinghy cleaning operation at the dock in Great Kills. Note the fender hanging in the water - that was to stop teh dinghy scraping teh side of Cotinga where she was lying during teh storm. This morning the dinghy was "hidden" (in plane sight) up under the bow.

Wet, windy and cold

Wet, windy and cold

Monday October 12, 2020

The title tells the whole story of today.  I’m asking myself why I wrote a blog about the shipping forecast on a day when something actually happened.  On what planet was I? 

We are experiencing the remnants of Hurricane Delta.  The winds have been as high as 30 knots (that we saw on the display).  For all we know, there might have been stronger gusts overnight.  Because of the foul weather we have spent the day hanging around on the boat.  While it was raining harder earlier in the day, Mike went out and scrubbed the decks hoping the rain would wash the dirt down the scuppers.  I’ve been reading, doing some cross-stitch and trying to look out the windows. That has proved pretty difficult as they are covered in raindrops and condensation.  We tried to watch a football game but the cell reception is so poor that in mid flight the ball would stop.  Thank goodness for the Kindle and the heating!

The marina is interesting. While there was a little activity yesterday, we seem to be the only people here today. That’s not a bad thing—less need to be fumbling with that mask. The docks are in pretty tough shape perhaps as a result of Hurricane Sandy.  There’s no deck with rocking chairs, no bar or cafe.  There are some bathrooms but they seem to be locked up at night. There are a lot of small powerboats and only five sailing vessels—including ours.

I have a feeling we are going to need to put the heat on again before boater’s midnight arrives. Brrr!

Gloria

40 32.630 N, 74 08.293 W

In the late afternoon the rain eased off for an hour and I took my camera and tripod out into the boatyard. Below are some of the abstract images that I captured ... Mike

Rudder and Prop abstract #6

Rudder abstract #5

Rudder abstract #1

Bow abstract #1

Hull abstract #2

Discretion is the Better Part of Valor

Discretion is the Better Part of Valor

Sunday 11th October 2020

When we checked the marine forecast this morning our first reaction was to think we made the right decision to hold off on making the passage to Cape May because the window of mild conditions had closed right up and the expected weather sounded worse than previously projected. In forecast sounded so bad that our second reaction was to question whether we were in a secure enough location in Atlantic Highlands. There is now a “small craft advisory” in place for tonight and a gale warning for tomorrow (Monday) with easterly winds of 20-25 knots gusting to 35 kts. “Active Captain”, an excellent free website owned by Garmin, suggests that you should not use this anchorage in strong north-easterly winds. We figured it would probably be safe, but with the protection of Sandy Hook two miles to the east that’s a lot of fetch and almost certainly wouldn’t be very comfortable, so we pulled up anchor and headed over to Great Kill harbor on Staten Island and have picked up a dock at a marina for two nights. It feels like a step in the wrong direction but as well as being more secure it gives us a chance to top up our water, diesel and pick up some groceries.

No photos today

Mike

40 32.630 N, 74 08.293 W

The Shipping Forecast

The Shipping Forecast

Saturday 10/10/2020 (had to write it this way to take advantage of the symmetry.)

It’s probably obvious that good weather forecasting is key to this adventure. We now use a number of sources for weather reports, hoping that we will find consensus in their predictions. 

Having just had our friend Will aboard, I was reminded of the shipping forecast provided by the UK Met office.  The importance of maritime forecasts to the British Isles is such that the Meteorological office has been issuing forecasts since 1861 following a terrible shipwreck off Anglesey in which 450 lives were lost.  At that time the forecast was transmitted by telegraph.  For many years now, the shipping forecast has been broadcast on BBC Radio Four at three times during the day. The seas around the UK are divided into 31 regions (with almost magical sounding names) that extend from near Iceland to the north of Spain.  The broadcast has a set format starting with announcement of the gale warnings.  The next segment is a general synopsis of the weather situation.  This is followed by the area forecasts that give the wind direction and speed, the sea state and weather followed by visibility.  There is a lot of very specific language around both the conditions and the timing—imminent, soon or later are associated with defined time windows.

The strange thing about the UK shipping forecast is that the radio broadcast has quite a following.  People make a point of tuning in to hear it, even though they may have no association with the sea. Perhaps it’s because nothing can make you feel more snug in your current environment than hearing: “There are warnings of gales in Viking, North Utsira, South Utsira, Forties ....”

p.s We dropped Will ashore this morning so he could catch his flight from La Guardia back to California. The drop off didn't exactly go as planned ... there was a dinghy dock at the marina on the east end of Coney Island Creek but the whole marina was fenced off and locked up from the road. So we ended up dropping him on some rocks (and glass bottles, dead fish etc) and he scrambled up a slime encrusted ladder to the road and on to the subway station! It was a memorable finish to a lovely visit. We then pulled up the anchor which was thick with stinking glutinous black mud and motored south across the Bay to Atlantic Highlands. We'll stay here a couple of days whilst we wait for a weather window for the 120 mile offshore passage to Cape May.

Gloria

40 25.017 N, 74 01.277 W

The east end of Coney Island Creek - you can see the marina where we wanted to drop Will ... instead we ended up pulling up on the rocks on the right edge of the photo

Approaching Atlantic Highlands after a wet and bumpy motor right into the wind ... and of course more tugs and  barges!