The alarm went off at 5 a.m., jolting me awake from a deep sleep. Reluctantly, I crawled out of the warm bed and to the main salon. My brother Neil was already awake and firing up the Nespresso. Neil and I were savoring our first coffee of the morning, enjoying the warmth of the mug against our hands, debating whether we should risk leaving in the dark, or wait the 1 1/2 hours until sunrise. In the darkness, the moon and stars cast a faint glow, revealing the silhouette of the seawall and the boats moored at the docks. Feeling confident in our electronic charts, we decided it was safe to leave. With Neil taking charge at the bow, his loud voice bellowed out instructions, “Hard to starboard, now hard to port.” then, “Use your bow thruster immediately, and do it fast!” Miraculously, we navigated through the maze of boats unscathed, smoothly gliding towards the Hudson. We were 20 miles north of New York City, and 45 miles from Sandy Hook, the gateway to the north Atlantic.
The iconic views fof New York came into view as the morning arrived. It is always breathtaking seeing the huge towers and sites from the Hudson. Dodging the ferries travelling at 30 knots, trying to figure out where they were going so I could avoid getting split in half always adds to the excitement.
We dodged the massive Staten Island Ferries that roared past us at great speeds and before we knew it, we were on the ocean. Chris Parker, our weather router told us there would be 6 foot easterly waves, but we should be able ro sail. The winds were 13 knots form the northeast, and we unfurled the jib uneventfully.
After a few hours, we furled the Jib and set the massive code 0 sail for extra propulsion. During the night, We did 2 hour shifts on deck with the other one sleeping in the bunk. By morning, we were happy to see the daylight, feeling exhausted after such a disrupted sleep pattern.
We calculated the time we would arrive at the Salt Ponds marina to be after dark. There is a sensible sailor’s dictum that suggests you should never enter an unfamiliar port in the dark. I called the marina.
“Hi, we will be arriving after dark, is this a good idea, or should we anchor in the bay until morning?” I asked to Ashley the receptionist at the Salt Ponds Marina.
“The channel is well marked. It may be a little shallow, but high tide is at 10:30, so with a bit of luck, you should be OK,” she responded.
“Yikes,” I replied. “Seems a little dodgy. Are the navigation marks lit?”
“I told you it is well marked. Just follow them in and then turn a sharp left. Motor all the way down to the 2nd last dock and you can tie up on the end.”
“OK. it is common wisdom not to do this, as I do not know the harbour.”
“We have boats do this all the time. Don’t worry.” I had the sense she was telling me to grow some balls and follow her advice.
The sun was setting as we entered Chesapeake Bay. When it became dark, we carefully followed the charts and aimed towards The entrance to Salt Ponds Marina. We encountered a flashing green channel marker and aimed for that. She was right! A wave of relief washed over me.I felt confident that we had made a good decision to enter an unfamiliar port at night. My relief at having made the correct decision was short lived. The chart showed a red mark to our starboard, but there was no red flashing light. “Neil,” I shouted, “Do you see the mark?”
“I’ll run to the bow with my light,” he said calmly. “Hard to port, hard to port!” he shouted no longer calm.
“Pardon me?” I shouted. I couldn’t hear him. The vinyl plastic dodger screen was dirty from the salt water spray, making it difficult to see from the cockpit.
“Can’t you hear me? Turn to port?” Neil was doing his best to get us to avoid a collision with the ‘unlit well marked posts’ that were supposed to be guiding us.
“What?” I shouted back.
“Watch my flashlight! There is a post in the water and unless you turn the boat in the next few seconds you will hit it!”
“I didn’t catch that!” I shouted back. The light seemed to get distorted through the brine soaked screen, and Neil’s words seemed to be muffled.
The conversation went back and forth like this for the 5 minute passage into the bay. Somehow, miraculously, we didn’t hit anything. We pulled up at the 2nd last dock and after several attempts, managed to dock successfully. It was pitch black outside. After whipping up a penne pasta with Ileana’s famous tomatoe sauce, we passed out for the night.
The morning run was spectacular on the boulevard. Neil’s flight back to Calgary was a 3 p.m. I was sad to see him go. It has not been since we were teenagers on family trips over 50 years ago that we had spent 2 weeks together. It was a great adventure for both of us to reconnect.
The next leg will be in 3 weeks, leaving on November 1, Hampton to Antigua in the Caribbean! It will be a great adventure with my crew, Jeff and Will.
