Around the Delmarva Peninsula, Part Two

While tied to the dock in Cape May we walked 1/2 mile to their West Marine to buy a new clevis pin for the lifeline, showered at the marina's bath house, ate an early dinner and went to bed early. It was blissful to sleep without interruption. We set an alarm to get up early and we were heading out just after 7 am. After leaving the channel we encountered dolphins. We had seen even more on our way into the harbor the day before. They didn't come to play in our bow wake but it was still so cool to see them. The winds were light for the first two hours as we headed south in the Atlantic along the coast so we motored. After a few hours the wind picked up and we raised the sails. The wind was almost directly behind us so we had to sail gybing angles (angled to the right or left of our destination). We started out with swells about 2-3 feet but they increased to 3-5 feet as the day went on. That made the sailing more challenging because every now and then a swell would hit the boat just so and push it so that it was pointing 20 degrees more downwind. If we went too much downwind we were at risk of an unexpected gybe (the boat turns through the wind and the boom swings quickly to the other side). We didn't want that because we could easily break something in an unexpected gybe. We were using the autopilot to drive the boat but we had to keep an almost constant eye on it to adjust the sailing angle. The boat was in constant motion, up and down, back and forth. George and I both began to feel a bit queasy after several hours of this. I am guessing I would have felt much worse than I did if I hadn't practiced the Puma Method exercises to prevent motion sickness.

In spite of the challenges, we felt fortunate to have a downwind sail with winds in the upper teens. An upwind sail would have been much more uncomfortable.

It was a challenge to stay warm. We both wore several layers of clothing but were still barely warm enough with air and water temperatures around 60 degrees. George found a spot to sit while he was on watch that was quite comfortable. It was protected from the wind a little and he could keep a close eye on the navigation system. As a bonus, the exhaust from the engine room blower (not engine exhaust) was right beside him so it helped him warm up a bit. My preferred spot was huddled under the dodger. When we were on watch, no matter where we were sitting, we would get up every 10-15 minutes and look in all directions.

George in one of his favorite spots. The warm air exhaust is on the left (not visible). A thermos full of ice water is on the right, tethered to the bilge pump.

 

I am now very motivated to make a full cockpit enclosure before we sail to the Bahamas this fall. It will help a great deal to keep the cockpit warmer and protect us from the rain. We recently bought a Sailrite machine to do canvas work. It is an intimidating job, though.

 

As night was approaching we discussed our options for a watch schedule. We took 3 hour watches on the previous leg. I had wanted to try 4 hour watches but we weren't able to do that because of our need to gybe. When we gybe the boat one of us turns the wheel and the other pulls the mainsail in so that the boom doesn't have as far to go when it swings from one side to the other. After the boom swings to the other side we let the mainsail out again. So, it requires two of us to execute a gybe. We talked about sailing one long leg that would angle out away from land, then once we got to a point where we would clear the end of the Delmarva peninsula, gybe and head toward the entrance of the Chesapeake. Neither one of us like that option much. In hindsight I am glad we didn't choose that option. There was a lot of ship traffic entering and leaving the bay and we would have had to work to avoid more ships if we had done that. So, we opted to gybe a few times through the night and keep shorter watches, gybing when we were changing watch. Unfortunately, that meant I wasn't ever able to get to sleep that night. It takes me a while to get to sleep, and I just wasn't able to do it on a constantly moving, cold boat with a lot of noises.

During my watch around 3 am I noticed a brightly lit boat in the distance in front of me. I checked the AIS and identified it as a fishing vessel. The AIS said we were safe (not on a collision course) and our closest point of approach was anywhere between .15 to .5 nautical miles (depending on where our boat was pointing). That was close but acceptable. From my perspective it looked as if we would pass port side to port side. I kept watching and as we got closer I started trimming the jib in and turning more to starboard to give us more room. There were so many bright white lights on the boat that I didn't make out the navigational lights. It wasn't until we were quite close that I noticed just one green light. That is the starboard light! That means that instead passing port to port the boat was crossing in front of me from port to starboard. I quickly disabled the autopilot and began turning toward port past the fishing boat's stern. The jib came over as I turned, making a lot of noise where George was sleeping in the v-berth. He thought we were gybing so he came up into the cockpit to help. Fortunately, we missed the fishing boat and did not gybe the main, so all was good. I was really rattled and shaking, though. I am not sure if I completely miscalculated how we were approaching the fishing boat or if the captain was messing with me. Fishing boats have the reputation of not liking sailboats and I have heard several stories of fishing boats playing games with sailboats. In any case, I wish I had at least tried to hail to boat on the radio to ask how they wanted to pass, rather than I assume I knew. Another lesson learned.

George took over after that and I went below to try to sleep. After about an hour and a half I gave up and came back to the cockpit to see if George needed help. He was approaching the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel and I helped navigate. The bridge tunnel is a 17-mile long series of bridges, causeways and 2 tunnels at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. It connects the eastern shore with the western shore. We have driven over it many times on our way to and from Florida. It was interesting to sail over the northern tunnel just before sunrise.

The Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel before sunrise. A causeway is on the left and the tunnel is on the right.

We dropped the sails as we were nearing Cape Charles and George noticed that the mainsail did not fold into the stack pack very easily. On closer inspection he found that we had lost 2 of the pins that hold the mainsail cars to the mast. They were in places where battens are located. He is having quite a time finding replacements.

The Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel before sunrise. A causeway is on the left and the tunnel is on the right.

The pin goes through the part with the number of it

Example of one of the pins that was lost.

 

 

The Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel before sunrise. A causeway is on the left and the tunnel is on the right.

Shortly before we dropped the sails I received a text from our friend, Dawn. She and her husband, Ray, were on their way to North Carolina and hoped that could snap a photo of us from the bridge tunnel as we sailed over the tunnel. We were too far away by then (darn!) but they ended up stopping in Cape Charles right after we arrived. We had a lovely morning eating brunch and walking around town.

 

Dawn and Ray on the beach in Cape Charles.

 

 

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