Sandy Hook to 79th Street Manhattan

Wednesday morning after breakfast on the boat, we pulled the vent plug on the primary filter.  Here is the location and the culprit behind our engine stall out problems.

 

 

With the defective O-ring in hand, we took the launch back to shore at 10 AM.  The Ace Hardware did not have the right size in stock, so we headed upstreet.  The Napa store had the right size, but only had one in stock.  The Atlantic Marine Supply store was the jackpot for O-rings.  We stocked up on a handful of these precious little forty-nine cent parts.  Feeling like we might actually be able to get to Manhattan, we got a couple cups of Joe at the local coffee joint, and went back to the boat to test out our new O-rings.  The actual install took about five minutes.  After priming the fuel system one more time, we turned the key on a very happy Yanmar diesel.  We let it run for a good hour just to be sure we  would not lose prime again.  All was well with the world.

 

Around noon we slipped the painter off the bow, loosed the mooring, and headed out onto a much different Raritan Bay.  As we were leaving AHMM, Niki took this shot of our mooring.  In the background center is another Gulf 27 Pilothouse.  These rugged little boats were made in So Cal in the 80s.  It was comforting to see another one that had made it to the Eastern coast.  It was overcast with rain threatening as we left, but we had a good five miles of visibility under the cloud cover.  The winds were less than 5MPH, but we set the jib as an insurance policy against another engine problem.  We did not need it, as the diesel returned to its normal solid performance.  A marked channel bisects the bay on a tangent towards the Verrazano Bridge and the main shipping channel through the Narrows into the inner harbor of New York City.   The Chapel Hill North channel is marked by the West Bank Horn and Light at the spot where the Sandy Hook channel meets the main channel into New York City.  Ever wait at a crosswalk for the all clear to cross the street?  Well then you know the feeling.

 

We approached the Narrows against an outgoing tide.  Our second O-ring search had put us behind the tide clock.  A number of large freighters were using the outgoing tide to set sail for parts unknown.  There was lots of room between the big boys, and we hopped under full power from green buoy to red buoy just below the bridge.   From the eastern side of the channel, we were able to buoy hop the red channel markers up the Hudson towards Manhattan.  Here is what the traffic looks like at this street corner. 

 

We passed up the east side of the Narrows and finally made slow progress under the Verrazano and finally made it into the inner harbor at New York City!

Just above the Verrazano Bridge is a large anchorage area for all the big ships waiting to load or unload in New York.  As we closed on Coast Guard station at Governor’s Island, we could see Lady Liberty through the drizzle.  Ellis Island followed on next.  The Staten Island ferry made an appearance on cue.  By the time we could see Battery Park, it became really clear that our biggest challenge in making it to the City was going to be the ferry traffic.  We passed the East River around the end of the working day for most commuters.  The water was packed with big ferries, small jet ferries, water taxis, even a lunatic on a paddle board, and we were tracking at least eight different converging targets at once.  Every boat that passed threw a large wake, and soon Broad Reach was bobbin around in "tempest in a teapot" seas caused by the conflicting wakes of all the traffic.  We stayed close on the western shore of Manhattan to avoid the additional wind conditions, and tried to imitate barn owls with eyes everywhere at once.  That also brought us within spitting distance of several ferry terminals as we transited north up the shore of the Big Apple.

 

 

 As we made our way up to midtown, we passed the USS Intrepid and the Sea and Air Museum.  A USCG patrol boat came out to greet us.  The young guy manning the 50 caliber machine gun up front suggested that we were too close to the exclusion zone around the site.  They continued to match our course on our starboard beam for a good half mile.  Apparently those Coasties were aware of Niki's inclusion in the airport watch list from when she left my WM box cutter in her purse.  We thanked them for the special welcome to NY and continued up  to the 79th Street Marina.

 

We love the area around midtown on the West Side.  Our phenom of an actress daughter Stefne Mercedes attended the American Musical and Dramatic Academy some years back.  We used to stay at the Milburn Hotel on West 76th when visiting to see her perform.  We were excited to eat our at our favorite Greek restaurant in the city Niko's on the corner of Broadway and W 76th.  When we got to the location, Niko's had been replaced by Fratelli La Bufala, oh no!  The place was packed.  We decided to give it a go.  Niki opted for the Cannellone Colorato E Parmigiana Di Melanzane and  I went for the  Pasta Fagioli E Cozze.  The food was amazing and the service from Cassandra was impeccable.  Another amazing night in the city to add to the collection, and then back to the boat for some sleep.

On the hook in Sandy Hook

We were both physically and mentally exhausted when we clipped onto the mooring at Atlantic Highlands Municipal Marina on Tuesday morning.  What had promised to be an easy nights sail turned into a marathon of cold, wet, and constant adrenaline rush.  We had little time in the night to do anything else but sail the boat and avoid commercial traffic, so we were famished as well.  Tuesday would be a day for recovery.  AHMM runs a launch service to all the boats on moorings, so we hailed the launch and went in search of food.  The TowBoatUS captain had suggested the On The Deck Restaurant to us, and we saw it was close at hand.  The restaurant is located on a second floor deck above the harbor with great views of the Raritan Bay.  As we were climbing the stairs to get up there, I suggested to Niki that we should use the elevator on the way down.  I was having a low blood sugar moment and was feeling light-headed and sleep deprived.  The midwife just said "Welcome to my world".  Lunch never tasted so good before.

When I went to use the men's room after lunch, I braved a look in the mirror.  My eyes looked like two blue marbles floating in tomato soup.  The one hour tow in from the channel at speed had pushed a lot of salt spray back into the cockpit.  Niki was "enjoying" Mr. Toad's Wild Ride down below decks.  I was at the helm trying to make sure the boat did not broach while being pulled so hard across the chop.  I guess more salt water got behind my glasses than I had realized at the time.  When lunch was done, we both agreed that some sleep was called for.  We took the launch back out to the boat and quickly fell into a two hour nap.

That afternoon we went into town to get some laundry done, and to look for O-rings.  The downtown of Atlantic Highlands is just two blocks from the marina.  Within four blocks of the marina, we located a laundry, an Ace hardware store, a marine store, and a Napa.  It was just about closing time for the hardware store, so we went quickly to the back and bought two of every O-ring they had in stock.  I had not taken the time to pull the vent before leaving the boat, but surely with 18 sizes in hand, there was a high probability of getting the right size?  OK, that is enough theoretical physics and quantum theory in action for one simple trip on a boat.  Maybe in some parallel universe the right O-rings exist.  Time for dinner.  The Harborside Grill had a great looking menu, and they had plenty of Johnny Walker in stock.  I surprised Niki by ordering a scotch for us both.  We had earned it.  The steak and garlic scampi was almost enough protein for me, and Niki downed the salmon in short order like she needed it.  We almost felt like ourselves by the time we got back to the boat.  Now for some real sleep.

Atlantic City to Sandy Hook, NJ

We woke to a bright sunny morning, and the constant playing of reveille from the casino across the creek.  Apparently the gamblers in AC are so well trained that a fake bugle call brings them out of their stuppored comp suites and into the gaming parlors at 6AM.  Who knew?  At least the reflection of the sun off the high rise gaming parlor was spectacular.

We topped off the fuel in our tank, washed the decks, and then went into town on a Sunday morning in search of O-rings.  The Internet had a few listings for marine repair and hardware, but no one was manning the phones.  We both initially thought that Kammerman's Marina was located in a sketchy neighborhood, but as we walked up to Atlantic Blvd., we realized that we were actually parked in the high rent district.  The adult entertainment shops on Atlantic were ready for business early Sunday morning, but the Os they were offering were not going to do a thing for our reluctant fuel supply.  We managed to find a grocery to re provision our larder, and then decided we would go ahead and leave at noon as planned.  Walking back to the boat we passed all kinds of folks on their way to worship service.  Sin on Saturday, repent on Sunday, seems to be the motto.

When we got back to the boat, we saw this scallop dredge heading out to sea.  If you think it is am impressive piece of machinery during daylight, read on a little further for the real deal.

We primed the fuel line and headed out of AC harbor.  The forecast was for winds from the NW at 5-10 MPH during the day, rounding to the SW through the night.  We expected a comfortable and manageable sail on a beam reach into Sandy Hook.  The eighty mile run should have put us off the entry channel at Sandy Hook sometime Monday morning.  We posted our sail plan to the kids just in case, and started a great run down the Jersey shore, hopping from one offshore buoy to the next.

The afternoon progressed perfectly with calm seas and just the right amount of wind to keep us making a steady 6 MPH over ground.  Niki was down below getting supper ready around 5 PM when I heard the sound of a whale exhaling through its blowhole.  A small family of pilot whales crossed our bow.  We watched them move off to starboard for fifteen minutes.  It was our first encounter with wild whales and was just peaceful to experience.  The sun continued to dip, and treated us to this view as it set in the west.

Further offshore to our east, the moon began to rise.  It was a brilliantly orange autumnal full moon.  The digital camera wasn't fully up to the moment, but if you have ever seen a moonrise where the moon seems to fill the sky, that is how it appeared to us.  Just our little boat, the endless horizon of the Atlantic, and Luna in all her splendor.

One half hour after moonrise, we saw red and green lights in the distance directly on our bow.  It was our first nighttime crossing with another boat.  We carefully tried to judge distance and closing rate between the two boats.  She stayed directly on our bow for ten minutes, so we decided she must be on the reciprocal course to ours, and heading into AC.  We eased the wheel to port and set the sails so that we could leave the other boat on our starboard side, between us and the moonlight.  Now it was too dark to get the photographic evidence, but what we saw during the next five minutes was worth the entire trip.  As the boats closed, we could see that the other boat was a sailboat, and that she had eased her course to our leeward side.    With perfect stillness, a two masted schooner under full sail passed between us and the moon.  The moonlight gave back light to her full rig.  She had three try sails up front and two large gaff rigged mains on the mainmast and mizzen.  It was better than the movies.  We held our breath as she slid silently away from us and back into the darkness.  You could not have scripted a more perfect afternoon and evening.

And often in sailing and life, what comes with blessings on the one hand can be taken away by the other hand.  It seems our payment to old Neptune for the magical day was to have one hellacious night.  Shortly after our encounter with the schooner, the winds began to build.  We had already furled the jib before dark, but with the winds so steady and manageable during the day, we decided not to take in a reef on the mainsail.  That turned out very quickly to be a bad choice.  The wind was still out of the west, putting us on a reach, but the 5-10 MPH quickly built to a steady 10-20 MPH with higher gusts.  The seas built higher too with the increased winds from shore.  We set the main traveler as far to leeward as it could go, and eased the main sheet way out.  The boat was under control but started to surf a little down the building seas.  The air temperature began to drop as well, and the increased wind chill was a concentration grabber.  Note to self, next time pack the damn balaclava!  We traded off time below to get less cold, but we both were chilled more than was prudent.  Then the rain kicked in as well, driving water beneath our foul weather gear.

When the rain eased and visibility went back out to about a mile, we saw nav lights on a closing course to us.  It turned out to be a scallop dredge.  We couldn't round up away from her course without losing headway and steerage, so we called repeatedly to her on the VHF.  She did not acknowledge us, but she did eventually veer off.  I thought we had escaped a close call and then I heard a strange noise from below.  As the dredge turned to quarter away from us, it became very clear that her drag line was set and that she was actively pulling her sled across the bottom.  The bottom of Broad Reach began to shake and vibrate with an unearthly whine.  We couldn't see how much cable the dredge had out, or where the cable might be, but we could hear the sled being drawn under us as she was turning away.  Water is a great propagator of sound at distance, but if I never again in my life hear that whine, it will be AOK with me.  The sound increased and then ever so slowly decreased, as the dredge went about her business.

By the time close call number two happened two hours later, the first wave of adrenaline had settled out.  I was down below trying to get warm when Niki shouted that she needed me back on deck now!  I came up to see a fishing trawler just 200 yards off our starboard side and closing rapidly.  Again we jumped on the VHF and again there was no response.  This time we decided to round up immediately, put the boat in irons, and wait for the trawler to clear by.  She slowly turned away and we were able to get underway again.  I asked Niki how she had gotten so close without being seen.  When Niki told me she had seen her, but that she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, I knew we both were pushing the limits of exhaustion.

There are no good places on the north Jersey shore to put into at night, and not one of those inlets would have been possible without the motor running reliably.  We soldiered on toward daybreak and the New York skyline. The stars in the east eventually got fainter, the sky began to brighten with the return of the sun, and at long last we could see the tip tops of Manhattan skyscrapers in the far distance.

We felt brighter as the sky got brighter.  We thought we had made it through the worst part of the passage.  But as we approached the Sandy Hook channel, the winds freshened stronger again and changed direction slightly.  The channel into Sandy Hook was now directly upwind of our position.  The only way in was by motor against an increasing wind and chop.  We primed the motor and prayed again it would see us all the way in to safe harbor.  Halfway into the entrance channel the motor died again.

Now the Sandy Hook channel has bested much better sailors than us.  We set the jib and main for a close haul run up the channel.  We had made it so far into the channel before the motor gave out, that I thought we could make several quick tacks and turn the corner on the "hook" in Sandy Hook.  But we were just too tired from the nights events, and we couldn't make the changes quickly enough to maintain headway upwind.  After trying three times, we decided we were not going to make it in.  We drifted out of the channel, set an anchor, and hailed to USCG with our position and problem.  They arranged for a tow into port by TowBoatUS.  The tow was a wilder surfing ride than any we had experienced during the long night.  The chop in Raritan Bay had built to four feet with a wave period of just a few seconds.  The direction into Atlantic Highlands Muni Marina put us abeam to the chop.  The boat rolled and heaved and felt as if it would broach several times, but by 11 AM Monday morning we were finally safely on a mooring in Sandy Hook.  And I was in search of a major ownership stake in a factory that manufactures O-rings.

Cape May to Atlantic City and The Story of O

We got up early on Saturday morning to catch all the sunlight possible for our first venture offshore with the boat.  It had rained through Friday night, but we woke to a beautiful sunny morning.  It promised to be a great day sailing offshore, with winds predicted out of the southwest.  We warmed up the diesel and were about to cast off lines, when Ernie Utsch came down to hand us some warm blueberry muffins and wish us safe travels.  The family at Utsch's Marina really made our stay memorable.

We had just backed out of our transient slip and turned to head out of the marina, when the diesel sputtered and died.  We had just enough steerage to coast over to the opposite side of the narrow channel in the marina, and we grabbed a piling.  The injector pump was making a loud noise, so I assumed we had not primed the fuel circuit sufficiently.  We pulled the engine cover, reprimed the circuit, and started the engine up again.  We got about a quarter of a mile from the marina, when the engine died again.  Not a great confidence builder as we were heading offshore, but we had wind, so we unfurled the jib and coasted slowly out of the breakwater and into the Atlantic.  As we rounded the buoy outside of Cape May, we headed northeast up the Jersey shore.  We set the mainsail and trimmed the boat up into a broad reach making six knots.  The plan for the day was to parallel the coast all the way to AC.

I tried hard to think what could have gone wrong with the fuel filter change.  The only thing I could come up with was that one of the O-rings for the filter vent must have been damaged.  With the whole day to try to come up with a fix, it did not seem too concerning.  We didn't have any replacement O-rings aboard, but we did have some caulk.  While Niki sailed the boat, I goobered caulk around the head of the vent screws.  We let it set up and then reprimed the engine a third time.  The fix seemed to take, as we were able to motorsail for an hour.

There were very few other boats out with us.  The clouds kept threatening to push offshore and give us a little weather.  A pod of fifty dolphins matched our course for awhile.  They were a good hundred yards off, but we did get to see one guy broach out of the water.  A line of something moving on the horizon turned out to be a flight of seabirds gliding south just inches above the waves.

The Jersey shore is a strange mix of industrial and commercial and residential development.  The view of this ferris wheel next to a water tower and commercial processing plant was odd.

We saw the highrise towers of Atlantic City hours before we could see the beach or the harbor entrance.  You get a true appreciation for the roundness of planet Earth when traveling on open ocean. It seemed to take fully half the day to close in on those casinos.

Finally what were shadows on the horizon for the whole afternoon became recognizable buildings and a harbor entrance.  The casinos all occupy the prime beachfront, and the harbor is back behind them to the west.  It was going to be a long motor into Kammerman's Marina with the wind on the nose of the boat.

We primed the fuel system one last time, and prayed that it would hold fuel long enough for us to get all the way into the dock.  The exiting fishing boats in the channel gave us a little pause.  We decided to go for it.  The motor ran well all the way into the back basin and up to our next slip, but we were nervous all the way in until we set the lines at the dock.

I promised Niki to search AC for new O-rings on Sunday morning.  With the winds still predicted favorable for Sunday night, we planned to leave AC at noon the next day for the long overnight sail into Sandy Hook.

Warm up to the main event

We have never before been offshore with Broad Reach.  The choice for the trip north was either to wander slowly up the NJ mudflats on the ICW and then make a short hop outside to Sandy Hook, or just head offshore and put in one day-sail offshore, and one long overnight run into the Raritan Bay and the outskirts of Manhattan.  We opted to go offshore to Atlantic City as a practice run for the longer overnight offshore into Sandy Hook.  Wanting to have the boat as prepped as possible, we spent Friday morning doing an oil change and installing new fuel filters.

We both had a hankering for Mexican at lunchtime and there was a conveniently located place called 5 De Mayo across the street from Utsch's Marina.  After filling up on very authentic tortas, we decided to explore the salt marshes that surround Cape May.

We both love to kayak in areas with wildlife.  We rented a tandem and headed out at low tide to see what we could see.  The guy at the rental place had a hard time launching us off their ramp, as the low tide had stranded their launch platform on an incline in the mud.

We surprised a cormorant coming around a corner and Niki snapped at the exact moment when he decided to leave the scene.

Most of the banks of the creeks that formed the marsh we fully exposed by the low tide.  We saw an army of little moving creatures on the flats.  They were burrowing crabs that come down to eat sea grass.  They seemed to have a single mind.  When one crab was frightened by our approach, they all scuttled away in unison.  It was a funny sight.

 OK so the still just doesn't quite express how odd this unison behavior was, so here is the vid. Imagine the unadulterated feeling of power in affecting terror in the minds of so many scuttlebugs with a mere wave of your kayak paddle.  It was slightly deviant and a lot of fun.

There was a chorus of peeps and whistles from the local sandpiper choir.  These little guys were either balancing on one leg, or dipping and bobbing some weird sixties dance.

The heron did not want to join the party, and headed off for quieter waters.

As we paddled up and down the narrowing creeks, tiny schools of fish were driven ahead of the boat.  They had nowhere to go except ahead.  The water rippled with frenzied fish leaping, splashing and swimming as hard as they could against the current to avoid becoming food to the big yellow thing we were paddling.  The terns and kingfishers took advantage of the bunched bait, and dove repeatedly just in front of us, catching the opportunity for a late lunch.  Here is one of the kingfishers after he retreated to the top of a piling.

After terrorizing all the local flora and fauna, we rode the wind back down the creek to the inner harbor.  Cape May is a world class fishing destination, and the docks were full of lots of expensive offshore tuna chasers.  We were surprised to see this rendition of a boat lift.  After thinking on it a while, I can see the logic of a little matching home enclosure for your boat.

We turned the corner around from where the boathouse lift was located and stumbled upon one of the most perfectly planned post and beam homes I have ever seen.  Our house in New Hampshire was a 200 year old post and beam frame, so we love to see these structures well executed.  The house had huge twelve foot tall barn style doors on three sides, so that under the right weather conditions, the entire first floor could be opened to the outside.  The second floor had privacy shoji to balance the light and keep the neighbors from burning too many YouTube moments. The views off the back porch looked directly onto the saltwater marsh we had been exploring.  If you look closely at the upper story window facing the canal, you will see that the owners have their very own yellow submarine on display.  The clerestory windows up top give great natural ventilation as well.  We circled back on this house from the street, and it is just as wonderful from that vantage as well.

We ended the kayak tour with a smart landing back onto the now floating launch platform at the marina.  We returned to the operator a PFD that got lost on the mudflats the previous day.  We were hungry again after all the exercise, but didn't want to walk far for food.  We decided to try Lucky Bones Backwater Grill.  The place was packed and with good reason. The trip to Cape May would have been worth it just to try their pan steamed mussels with tomato, basil, and gorgonzola cheese.  I asked if they had a bath convenient with enough of the sauce to bathe in personally, but the waitress thought I was joking. Niki said she wasn't up for the sight of a naked me turning slowly orange and puckery.

We both loved everything about our stay in Cape May.

Cape May by daylight

We woke up early to a beautiful sunrise over the harbor at Cape May Thusday morning.  We motored over to Utsch's Marina and registered for a two day layover.  The marina is run by a Pennsylvania Dutch family that has been at this location for three generations.  Grandpa Utsch served with Patton in the 2nd Armored Division during WWII.  The whole family could not be more welcoming to transient boaters.  Any place that gives you a free bottle of wine with your complimentary gift bag on check-in is OK with us.

Downtown Cape May is a registered historic district with a two block walking mall of outdoor cafes and gift shops.  There were couples riding in horse drawn carriages being given guided tours of the beautifully restored and gardened houses in the district.  I really like the antique fire engine that is on display in its own separate fire house.  The Physick "cottage" is a huge Victorian estate that was built by a town doctor.  Niki liked the Victorian octagonal house painted bright purple.  It's up for sale too!  After walking the length of the town, we were really hungry for lunch.  All expat exhippie types yearn for an occasional vegan fix, so we landed at the Higher Grounds Coffee House.  They had a quirky outdoor garden on the street for diners.

Just as we sat down to be served, a group of musicians appeared from behind the wooden gate at the back of the garden, and started to set up gear.  Raliegh learned to play as a young man in Tobago.  He is still going strong in his sixties.  The guys played everything from reggae to blues to a couple of Bago style country covers.  Check it out.

We were having such a good time with this private concert, that we spent a lazy afternoon reading the cosmic messages posted in the garden, and sipping ice cold chai teas.  During breaks between sets, Raliegh sat down with us at our table and related a good portion of his life story to us.  He told us how hard it had been for him to get together the $60 to buy his first guitar.  He says anyone with a passion for something can make it happen.  He has always loved music and loves to sing to anyone, especially for tips.  His life now is in the States, but he still makes it back to the island for his father's birthday most Decembers.  There were lots of affirming messages to absorb.

 

And of course no cosmic garden would be complete without an homage to the midwifery goddess.

 

 

 

 If you ever get to Cape May, this was a real fun place.  You should see for yourself and grab a mango smoothie to go.

 

 

 

 

 

The plan for Friday is to get the boat prepped for our first offshore leg to Atlantic City.  May have time to do a little kayaking on the saltmarsh before setting out on Saturday morning.

 

Chesapeake City, MD to Cape May, NJ

The little historic town of Chesapeake City sits directly under a new bridge that connects the Eastern Shore with Delaware.  We weren't able to dock at the free city dock, as it was a full house when we arrived.  We adpoted plan B and tied up just across the cove at the Chesapeake Inn.  Something about being exactly 37 steps up the dock from the bar decided the issue for us.

 

The live band in the bar kept playing until well into the night.  We needed a quick morning fix to get the day started on Wednesday.  Niki walked up around the corner onto Main Street to the Bohemia Cafe in search of breakfast fixins.  Nothing starts a day full of sailing capers as well as a fat bagel with lox, cream cheese, and the other caper.  She brought us hot coffee to wash it down and then out the C & D to the Delaware Bay.

 

 

We were chased down in the canal by a huge undersea cable laying ship.  She threw a huge bow wave and Broad Reach went a little broad side as she passed.  There was a steady line of south bound sailboats heading for the Chesapeake Bay as we continued to motor out to the Delaware.

 

 As we left the confines of the canal, the wind began to fill in directly on our nose.  We motored south down the river into an increasing chop.  We motored down the Baker Range due south with the winds pushing against us and the the force of the exiting tide.  Just beyond the Salem Nuclear Power Plant the river widens and heads southeast.  We were able to set the mainsail under power and motorsailed the boat close hauled almost all the way to Cape May.

  

 



We saw very little traffic on the river. What we did see was all bound north to Philadelphia.  From the looks of this half filled container ship, we all better start our Christmas shopping now.  The economy needs a boost, so go somewhere cool and spend some money on whatever the Marfret Line can lug your way.

 

 



 

Or if consumer goods are not your thing, you can at least throw one hell of a feast with the quantity of food on this Crowley Foods barge.  Niki had never seen a pushme-pullyou in person.  I pledged to make a one man effort to lift the economy by eating more yogurt.

 

What we were not aware of from reading the charts, is that a lot of the marks on the Delaware are old lighthouses that have been converted over to modern racons.  Here is the structure we passed when we got to Ship John Shoal.

 

 As we approached the dog leg called Elbow at Cross Ledge, we could see a very large tanker approaching from the south.  We stayed mostly in the channel on the way down river, but this big boy deserved considerable respect.  Rather than pass port sides, we decided to cut the corner of the elbow and gave him the whole width of the channel to make his impressive sweeping turn.

 

There is a actually an abandoned lighthouse marked on the chart just on the southeast corner of  Cross Ledge.  Just after it was abandoned, it got misplaced, because all that marks the very shoal water there now is this.

  Our final departure from the shipping channel was at the weirdly named Miah Maull Shoal.  Something about a short defenseless Italian and a poorly trained kept bear down in the hold of Spanish galleon?  I don't really know, but there must be a story there.  The lighthouse was pretty wonderful.

  Niki took the helm for the last mile close hauled before our turn to the SSE.  I took a short and intense few moments to closely inspect the leeward shrouds.

 

 OK, I was actually napping, but is was a long hard slog upwind for most of the day.  We passed some beautiful new and traditional boats that appeared to be Annapolis Boat show bound.

 

Niki had never seen an ocean going super tug pushing a barge before, but we got a close look at this one.

The final leg into Cape May was only 14 miles.  We had been making good 7 to 9 knots with the receding tide.  We mistimed the tidal change at the mouth of the river.  When the Delaware switched to flood stage, our speed over ground went all to hell in a handbasket.  The last leg was long, long, long.  As we patiently worked our way to the Cape May channel, we had time to enjoy this beautiful sunset.

 

As the sun was going down, the moon was rising.  We did the final 5 miles to the canal in the gathering dark, with moonshine reflecting off the water directly ahead of us.  It was very calming.  That turned out to be a very good thing.  There is a swing railway bridge halfway down the canal to Cape May harbor.  With Steve at the bow shouting directions back to Niki at the helm, I think we discovered a brand new method of couples therapy.  She likes to call it the No No No No No No method.  When we finally tied up around 10 PM we were ready for sleep, and just a little better prepared to cope with whatever life throws at us.