It feels good. Just the ability to get out and do something… anything in this train wreck of a year. I’m approaching this segment with at least a little trepidation. At over 600 nautical miles it is our longest offshore jump by far. On a previous leg I had slipped, fell, split my forehead open, and nearly knocked myself out on the foredeck. It made me acutely aware that medical help is not a quick trip to the ER. Fortunately I had good first aid supplies on board and steri-strips are an excellent substitute for stitches.
Our chief concern for the passage was wind. The winds are better in May/June when I originally planned the passage. Not so much in July and on our first day out it was not looking positive. Warm, sunny,… and calm. We motored and motor sailed NNE for nearly all day, aiming to get ourselves out in the middle of the Gulfstream. When we got there, we found wind AND current. For the next two days we had a great ride north, never dropping below 6 knots and often being pushed along at 10-11 knots.
As we approached Cape May, we learned that we were heading directly at Tropical Storm Isaias about 100 nm north. However, Isaias was going the same direction as we were and about the same speed, so we were in no real danger of running into it. What Isaias did send us is waves. Big waves. 20 to 25 foot ocean swells that made ships on the horizon disappear. By this time we were once again motor sailing as the wind had died. It made for an uncomfortable ride past Chesapeake Bay and up the Jersey coast.
Now, the trip was not not entirely uneventful. On the first night out I returned to my cabin coming off watch at 2200 hours and my bare foot splashed into water. There is never ANYTHING positive about finding water where it is not supposed to be on a boat. First step is to taste it. Yep, saltwater. That means a leak. Somewhere. Fortunately (I guess) it was easy to find. The packing around the rudder post was leaking like a sieve. So much for getting any sleep. First we needed to bail all the water that was sloshing around in the bilge. Steve volunteered for most of the bailing and by the end of the passage had spent several hours on his knees with a bucket. Despite having extra packing, we never fully resolved the leak on this passage and periodically bailed our way all the way to New Jersey.
The following day our fresh water pump decided to retire while we were 100 miles offshore and three days from our destination. Our fresh water tank carries 900 liters, so we had plenty, but no pump. We did have an emergency pump on board and plenty of bottled water, which in 90 degree heat is an absolute necessity, so we managed until docking in Manasquan. However, I was adamant about replacing the pump before we left so I had a working fresh water system for the next leg. Russ volunteered to bury himself down in our 110 degree engine room for a few hours and replace the pump. We were pretty certain he was going to need CPR by the time he finally got out of there. Russ did need help, but it came in the form of a couple of cold beers.
They say that anytime you can step off the boat onto the dock instead of being carried off it’s a good voyage. None of us had ever made an offshore passage of this length. That trans-Atlantic passage is looking better after this.
