“It is said one must never leap into doing anything without weighing its consequences. But if you are ever presented with an opportunity of sailing, we say don’t even think for a moment and take the plunge, for every journey comes with a promise of adventure and you never know, you will have something worthwhile to share with the world.” Quotabulary
After spending almost a month in the city of Charleston, SC, repairs, and maintenance completed, it was finally time to continue on our journey. Heading north along the coastline, we decided to get our feet wet again in the world of passage making and sail up the coast on a simple 4 night trip to Cape May, NJ.
Our time in Charleston was extremely enjoyable as we were fortunate to be able to stay at our nephew’s dock on the Wando River. We took a side-trip to Charlotte to celebrate my dad’s 90th birthday and I flew to California to watch my daughter compete in equestrian vaulting.
She is in contention to gain a spot representing the United States in the 2018 World Equestrian Games (WEG) and having been her coach for the past 20 years, I just had to go watch her compete. If you’ve never seen vaulting, check out Vintage Vaulters on Facebook.
During our stay, we visited with our nephews as well as my brother and sister-in-law who live on Sullivan Island. Our family is overwhelmingly kind and helped us in many regards, letting us sleep in air conditioning and real beds, lending us vehicles to make the many trips to West Marine and allowing us to enjoy the amenities of a non-floating home. It was heaven in a calm port and we had a tough time casting off those dock lines!
As we wrapped up boat business and provisioned for our trip, I had to call my mother, my biggest fan, and supporter. Now 88, she was a large part of my inspiration for sailing. She was the fastest women skipper on her Pierson in New Bern, NC and took home many trophies for the regattas she won.
“Yes Mom, I will be out of cell range for the next four days. And don’t worry, the winds are 10 knots, and the seas will be less than 2 ft. Dan says we may even have to motor most of the way as we will be losing wind as we get north. It is going to be a piece of cake.”
Will I never learn? Since when do the weathermen ever get it right….
Upon leaving Charleston and entering the ocean, we were quite surprised by the strength of the wind. There wasn’t even enough breeze to hold a flag out as we passed Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor. We raised all three sails and made 7 knots in gentle rolling 3ft. seas. The weather was glorious as the sun cast its diamonds in a lighted path against the cerulean sea. It felt incredible to be back on our boat, sails flying, heading into the open ocean on a new adventure. To add icing to the already delicious cake, we had a banner fishing day. We never know what we will catch when we cast out our pink squid to trail behind us, but it usually comes back with something. It did not disappoint. Six fish later, we had a great haul of my favorite, Spanish Mackerel, as well as Mahi. We only kept three fish as there is not that much room in our freezer.
The wind continued to build into the evening. My first night watch in some time, I settled in fairly well into the routine of staying awake until 1 AM when Dan would relieve me and take the watch until 6 AM. We hurtled along through the dark inky waters with only a sliver of light from the new moon in the shape of a dissolving Lifesaver. I watched our speed flicker to numbers that indicated the wind was definitely increasing. The waves grew and propelled us forward like a rocket and I grinned and panicked as I saw 10.1 knots reading on the instrument panel. That was a new record speed for our boat on my watch. To say I was tense when Dan appeared to take over, was a bit of an understatement. The one experience we had 300 miles from shore when we began sailing, where we ended up being tossed by 30-knot winds and 20 ft. seas loomed like a bad dream in my very awake conscience.
I went to bed but got little to no sleep. The waves were not only coming from behind us on our downwind run, but rogue waves broke against us from the side. The effect was much like being in a washing machine. We rolled forward, backward and side to side. Around 4 AM, I heard Dan pounding around on deck and the winch being cranked. He had forewarned me that when we reached our waypoint, we would have to jibe. I put on my life vest and popped up to see if he needed assistance. We pulled in the jib to release on the other side when we reached our new point of sail and prepared to pop the main over to the other side.
Dan gave the order to change course when the proverbial shit hit the fan. Our mainsheet got tangled on the valve of one of our scuba tanks strapped to the rail. Out of the dark, an ear-piercing shriek of exploding air sent us both into cardiac arrest. All I could do was cover my ears. Dan dove over the edge of the cockpit and fumbled in the dark until he could reach the valve and stop the pressurized stream of air. The mainsheet was still around the tank and the tank suddenly gave way and tipped over, threatening to slip out of the straps and into the ocean. Dan yelled for me to grab the tank, which I did, but I didn’t have the leverage to pull it upright. It took the two of us to free the sheet, upright the tank and get her back into place.
By the time that was resolved, we were totally off course and headed toward the shoals of Cape Fear. The wind and waves mocked us as they took hold of our boat and propelled us off course. We quickly got the engine started and struggled to get the sails back up and adjusted on our new way-line. Rather frazzled, I headed back below to get little to no sleep.
The sun rose dimly behind her misty shroud and cast a muted light on a gray and confused sea. The wind had increased to around 20 knots and the waves came in many sizes, including the stray 6 to 8 ft. roller. I would watch them grow behind us and peer above our back railing like an oncoming freight train. The stern of our boat would rise to meet the wall of water, then tip forward and surf down with ease. To her credit, she handled them like a champ. Me… not so much.
“Daniel,” I said at one point. “Did you know it was going to be like this and just chose not to tell me or are the weather people, complete idiots?” I know he is on a mission to toughen me up as dealing with rough seas is as inevitable as finding carrots in your vegetable soup.
“No, all the data forecasted seas less than 3 ft. and very little wind.”
So, I sucked it up and tried to take several naps during the day to make up for my lack of sleep. My next watch would come all too soon and sleep deprivation would not make the situation any better. It was what it was, we were safe, just not comfortable.
The next night watch arrived as Dan headed to the forward sea berth around 8:30 PM. I had successfully slept several times during the day. I resolved to be brave and make my captain proud. I made tea, put Lord of the Rings on my computer to watch and gathered snacks to go with my cinematic experience. It worked. For the first time, I actually enjoyed a night watch. I checked the screens regularly in the cabin and even glanced a few times at the stars and constellations. The moon was one lick bigger than the sliver of Lifesaver from the previous evening making the ocean view a bit brighter and more cheery. I even imbibed in a nightcap about 10 min. prior to my watch concluding in the hope, I would have a better night’s sleep. It all worked and I slept that night like a baby in a rocking cradle. Halleluiah.
I think the weatherman had no idea that God was sending the conditions to toughen me up because I need that, so I forgive them for their lack of foresight on the conditions. The next day the seas were much calmer, the winds still fairly strong but strangely coming from the North instead of the predicted Southwest. Our third day at sea was pleasant, we fished again and caught and released several more. It was a pleasant day and the evening approached all too quickly. The horizon had darkened as the day grew long and the lack of seeing the sunset sent a foreboding message that weather of some sort was headed our way. I vowed to take my watch with a positive attitude and repeat the great experience I had the night before. Vows, however ambitious, do not make reality.
Dan eased into his early to bed routine, trying to get 5 hours of sleep before his 1 AM watch. I waited eagerly for the clock to read 9:30 PM so I could call my daughter in Colorado (2 hours behind us) and find out how she fared at a vaulting selection trial for WEG she traveled to compete at in Loveland Colorado. I was using the satellite phone which is known for bad reception and very limited conversation. As I waited anxiously for the hour to arrive, I glanced starboard only to see violent flashes of lightning streaking across the horizon. I watched with growing trepidation as fingers of lights spread with increasing intensity and frequency. I could hear no thunder but had the looming sense that as we sped toward shore that the line of storms was going to intersect with our path. I vowed not to wake Dan. He needed sleep and there was no course we could change, nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable.
I connected with Katie and managed to get the lowdown on how her day went. Her horse was not thrilled with the venue and she did not have her best round. Our conversation faded in and out, sometimes just crackles of broken syllables. The last message she heard from me was, “Scared, alone on watch, storms.” The satellites must have flown by to new locations as all hope of reconnection was lost.
I tried to watch the sequel Twin Towers as the lightning flashed, flirting with my fear of meeting on a common path. I swallowed the negative thoughts as best I could, knowing that lightning was also an inevitable part of sailing. I need to learn to deal with it. Our boat is very well grounded and prepared for bursts of electrical current, so Dan tells me. I felt a little upset with God exposing me to 2 scary experiences in one four-night passage… turns out he was just yanking my chain. The flares began to recede to our stern and I began to breathe a bit easier. That’s when the little triangle appeared on the AIS screen indicating another vessel was near.
Usually, the AIS provides the name of the approaching ship, the type, speed, and course. The green triangle indicated the speed and course and the designation US Government. I knew instantly it was a Coast Guard vessel. I had no initial concerns. The last time the Coast Guard tried to pull us over early in the morning was after we left Florida to head to Charleston, I was fishing in my underwear and tee shirt. They turned their lights on and sped up behind us, ran over my fishing line. As the line got tangled in their prop I took the opportunity to bolt below and get properly dressed for a boarding. Turned out it took them so long to get the line untangled, or they were so embarrassed, they handed us back our pole and told us to have a nice day.
Well, it was night, I was properly dressed and didn’t have a fishing line out. I observed their strange pattern of circling behind us, starting to head away, then turning back and repeating the process.
“Pull them over? Don’t pull them over?”
I had no idea what was going through their minds. I refused to wake Dan. The resolved melted when suddenly, after heading away once again, they turned directly toward our boat and were on a heading to intercept us. The course showed they would reach us, doing 13 knots, in 8 min. Time to wake the captain.
Reluctantly, I roused Dan and told him to get the passports and paperwork out. We were about to be boarded. He dressed and pulled out the documents. I quickly filled him in on the scenario. 6 min. ETA turned into 4 min. We watched their approach and waited for them to hail us on the radio as per boarding protocol. Within mere minutes of arrival, the green triangle suddenly veered off and headed past our stern. Apparently, they were either toying with us or were convinced that we were a simple sailing vessel and probably not running drugs or transporting illegal aliens from Haiti.
To pay Dan back for waking him needlessly, I let him sleep until 2:30 in penance for my insecurities. I finished watching my movie, said a few prayers of thanks for all potential threats defusing into non-events. I even had my nightcap just before I gave up the watch so I could have another good night’s sleep.
Morning dawned and Dan let me sleep in until 7. The new day started peacefully enough, but the weather quickly deteriorated as we grew closer to shore. Our destination was Cape May. We would not arrive there until after midnight and bad weather was closing quickly. We made the prudent decision to shorten our route to Ocean City, MD. and wait out the bad weather. We sit now at the White Marlin Marina and have better weather approaching in the next day or two. Then, we are off to Cape May to pick up my favorite crew member, our 3-year-old grandson, Orion, and our daughter-in-law Shelby. Orion will accompany us for a week or so as we travel up the coast to New York, Rhode Island, and Boston. We have lots of friends to visit as we travel to our final destination, Nova Scotia and PEI. There are many more adventures to learn from and build our experience and wonders to see as we travel on this incredible voyage.