This is a crux point in the trip. I’ve come up the ICW, and the Chesapeake, and down the Delaware River to Cape May. I’m about to venture into the open water for the first time.

Along the eastern shore of New Jersey there are only a few places you can anchor safely. What many cruisers would do is run all day and overnight and get to New York. I considered this, but I was scared of doing it by myself. The first stop north from Cape May is Atlantic City, The run from Cape May to Atlantic City is about 50 nautical miles,a distance I should be able to travel comfortably in a day. I decided to do that and see how it went.

When you’re running along a shore like this, you want to be off the shore a decent distance. This is so if you have some problem, you have time to deal with it before the wind blows you onto the beach. Ed suggested running 5 miles offshore. If you go right out perpendicular to the coastline 5 miles at each end of the trip, you’re increasing the distance for the day quite a bit. I decided to run 3 miles offshore, and to make a roughly 45 degree course away from shore, running northeast, and do the same at the Atlantic City.

The weather forecast for next day was E winds 10-15, gusting to 20, 3-4 ft seas and a mainly S swell with a period of 7 seconds. The wind was higher than I’d have liked, but I figured I might wait in Cape May a long time to get a better day. A 3-4 foot chop didn’t seem to bad. I don’t have enough experience to know what a swell with a period of 7 seconds looks like, but I did notice the seas were a bit confused the day I went up. It was a long and bouncy ride.

I was thinking with an east wind I’d be able to sail on a beam reach. In my mind I assumed I was heading north, but of course coast of NJ goes east significantly from Cape May, and in fact the wind was just off my starboard bow most of the trip. I didn’t sail at all.

This is the Coast Guard station in Cape May.

Heading out the breakwater at Cape May, bound for Atlantic City. First time in the open Atlantic Ocean. A nice wide fairway!

Quick video taken from standing in the companionway. It was a long bouncy ride.

I was in a bit of a trance from the engine noise and the constant pitch and roll of the boat. I saw something off my port beam and continuing scranning the sea to my left. Then I saw a whale breaching! I saw him come up out of the water several times, and he began moving toward the boat. I was excited about this, then as he got nearer, I began to get a bit anxious. He crossed in front of the boat, maybe 75 yards ahead, then continued away from me and behind me. He continued breaching many times. I didn’t see him for a while, and stopped looking for him. After a few minutes I looked back and saw him waving at me with his tail. Wow. Like I said, between the sun and wind and boat’s movement, and a bit of anxiety about the days passage, I thought maybe I had been hallucinating. But I don’t think so. I had heard about people going whale watching and thinking, what’s the big deal? But if fact it was very exciting to see this guy. Or girl.

It was a relief to see the buildings of Atlantic City appear ahead, but I looked at them a long time before I got close. As I got closer, I checked my chart and ActiveCaptain to get details about the entrance to Atlantic City. It’s sort of shocking that I didn’t do that the night before, given how concerned I was about the passage, but sometimes I’m just stupid. It’s good I checked because, in fact, the entrance was a bit tricky.

Somehow I thought this was a static and easy and safe place to go in, but, like many inlets, the shoals here form and move around constantly. For smaller and less heavily used inlets, you really need to have “local knowledge” to get in safely. Atlantic City had several buoys they moved around to indicate the path to use to get to the breakwater. Fortunately there were some recent ActiveCaptain posts describing where the buoys were and the general layout. I was also able to watch a couple of commercial fishing boat go in before me.

As I approached, I turned to the west. I thought it would be a relief to stop pounding into the chop, but instead I was rolling heavily, which was worse. As I was just about to enter channel between the two jetties, the chop and swell was accentuated by the shallower water. A big steep swell hit me broadside and set me way over on my starboard side. As the boat rolled back, I hit a bit of chop that shook the boat, and this combined to cause my galley drawer to slide open and jump over the stop that’s built into it. The drawer slid open and fell onto the cabin sole, and the entire contents of that drawer scattered through the cabin. Oh well. I had a focus to staying off the jetties and getting into flatter, safer water.

I anchored that night, straight in and to the left, before the bridge that crosses the channel. Several other cruising boats were anchored there.

The passage was successful, but hard, and it took quite a bit longer than I’d estimated. The next safe anchorage was Manasquan, and that was a much longer run, and a more difficult entrance, and very crowded once you got in.

After I quit my job in 2015, I signed up for a crew-finder web site called Offshore Passage Opportunities. I wanted to try bluewater sailing and thought this might be a good way to do it. I ended up buying my way onto a boat with the guy who runs the website, and did a trip from Newport RI to Bermuda to the Caribbean. So I emailed Hank, the guy who runs this site, and described my situation. I was only looking for advice. Hank replied right away and validated my concerns about the dangers of running along the NJ coast. And he forwarded my email to this crew list. He said I was a member and a good guy and asked in anyone in the NY area wanted to help me out. That was really great. Most of the skippers he gets crew for have much bigger and nicer boats than mine, and more attractive sailing opportunities for the crew. I was surprised but delighted. Several folks emailed me with advice and encouragement, and one guy offered to help. His name is Kevin, and he said he and his son Drew were happy to come help me sail overnight and get up to his yacht club in Jersey City, right across the Hudson from Manhattan.

He was not available for help for a couple of weeks. So that, in combination with a forecast for nasty weather over the next week, encouraged me to hatch a plan. My car was stored at Green Cove Springs Marina in Florida, and I needed to pick it up and move it up the coast. So I moved the boat to the marina in Atlantic City, and rented a slip. It cost a chunk of money, but I was ready for a break from the trip. And I’d driving my car up to my sweetheart’s house and visit with her, and I was pretty excited about that.

So the trip resumes on May 16. Kevin and Drew took an Uber down to Cape May from Jersey City— cheaper than the bus. I offered to pay their transportation but Kevin said that wasn’t necessary.

We got going around 10am, expecting to get to the Verrazano Narrows Bridge around dawn, and continue through New York harbor to their yacht club in Jersey City.

Early morning in Atlantic City.

Kevin and his son Drew. These guys were tremendous and I am so grateful for their help with this passage. This was taken at around 5pm on May 16, the first day of our day and a half passage to City Island NY.

Kevin is quite a bit more experienced that I, and contributed by establishing a formal watch schedule. He also brought along a new VHF radio that had AIS. I had a spare power connection all wired up and available, and a VHF antenna at my masthead. We were able to get his radio working, and it enabled us to get detailed information about the location, speed, course and identification of nearby large boats and ships. When Drew and I were on our overnight watch, Drew used the VHF w/ AIS to spot an incoming ship and we were able to move out of its way in plenty of time. Big ships look like they’re hardly moving, but in fact are traveling 2 or 3 times as fast as I am, so you really need to stay out of their way.

Kevin also brought me his old VHF radio and gave it to me, which was very kind and generous. He could tell I was on a budget and seemed happy to hand it on to me.

5am May 17, approaching the Verrazano Narrows Bridge.

Dawn in New York Harbor

There it is. That’s a serious city.

The obligatory picture with the Statue of Liberty in the background.

We continued to Liberty Landing Marina in Jersey City, arriving before 5am. This is a public marina where Kevin keeps his boat. They also have transient slips available in case you want a stop near NYC.

Since we made good time, Kevin said we had the option to continue on to City Island, in the very western end of Long Island Sound. That sounded great to me, so after a break we headed down around the southern tip of Manhattan and up the East River. We left at 9:30am, headed for City Island.

If I’m not mistaken, that’s the Brooklyn Bridge up ahead.

Racing up the East River at almost 9 knots over the ground. My boat doesn’t go faster 5 1/2 knots or so. The rest is coming from tidal current. It’s very important to time your passage through the East River with the tide. Currents are referred to as either “fair” or “foul,” depending on if they are helping your progress or hurting it. You definitely want a fair current on this trip.

Starting to leave NYC behind us.

We arrived at City Island at around 1pm. Kevin and Drew were able to catch an Uber to the train station and get home that way. What a huge thing they did for me.

I motored around to Green Flats anchorage, anchored, and went to sleep.

Sunrise the next morning. Pretty nice, eh?

I anchored near this thing. Quite a curiosity. I have no idea what this thing is, but I thought it deserved to be photographed.

[7/12/2020] My friend John sent me this link about the island above: https://nypost.com/video/this-guy-owns-his-own-island-in-new-york-city/

As soon as I got to Long Island, I really felt I was in the northeast, like I was coming home, like I was getting close to Maine. Something about the air and rocks and landscape. It was great to be in the Long Island Sound!

That’s a pretty big and nice looking lighthouse keeper’s house. Of course, all the lighthouses are automated now, so maybe some software company executive lives there.

Mmmmm, fresh squeezed orange juice.

Me and my trusty copy of Eldridge. This thing became an important companion on this next section of the trip. Lots of information that helped me make my passage faster and safer.

There was some really nice sailing on this part of the trip.

I can’t imagine doing the trip without the autopilot.

Looks like a sailboat race to me.

Anchored near Milford CT. My parents lived there when my Dad was going to school at Yale. As I recall this was a rolly night. It’s really nice to anchor overnight in fairly flat water. This spot got swell that swung around that island and landed on my starboard bow and I rolled all night long. It would have been better closer to the island, like that boat you see. For some reason I didn’t nestle in closer— probably worrying about swinging around and ending up on the beach. I’m still not that great with anchoring.

5:30am. Early start. I look awfully chipper, not sure why. Oh wait, I must be thinking of my sweetheart.

The Sound was a really nice place to sail.

More commercial traffic.

Before I started the trip I hatched a plan to stop at a marina in Haddam Connecticut. My brother lives in western Massachusetts and went there several times to help a friend of his work on a boat. I got the sense it was a good and reasonably priced marina where you could do your own work on the boat. My brother is skilled woodworker and he agreed to help me convert the settee into a wide bunk. I also thought it would be fun to travel up the Connecticut River. And, my sweetheart was also in western MA, and I looked forward to spending time with her.

Here I am at the mouth of the river, approaching Old Lyme Draw. I contacted the bridge operator and was able to slip through just before the next train.

Old Lyme Draw closing behind me. I really did just slip through.

Heading up the Connecticut River. This really felt like New England… this is New England!

It was a pretty trip, a nice day, and not too tricky navigating the river. There was one long shallow area with a narrow dredged channel and an old fashioned range to help you stay in it, but it was no big deal after doing the ICW.

This appeared to be a small ferry. There was a similar dock facility on the opposite shore of the river.

This is one of the weirdest buildings I’ve ever seen. I have no idea what the story is behind this place, but there must be a story.

Arrived at Midway Marina, Haddam CT. I look happy and a bit self-satisfied… and I was!

I had never seen a travel-lift like this that was towed by a truck. I asked the marina crew about it. It’s because the more common self-propelled travel-lifts would not have been able to climb the hill to where their storage lot was.

Soon after I arrived the marina crew was stepping this mast. I hadn’t seen this done before and was interested and took a lot of pictures. The owner is in the foreground and noticed me taking all the pictures and asked me to email them to him, which I was happy to do.

Scott and Dan made this look like the easiest thing in the world. Clearly they had done it many times before.

Fairlady coming out of the water for the first time since launching at Green Cove Springs the previous fall.

Into the storage and work lot.

Fairlady ended up parked here for quite a while.

My brother working on the demo for the conversion of the settee to a bunk. He was a really good sport about helping me with this. It’s about a two hour drive from his house to Haddam, and some of the work was awkward and fussy. Sort of like how doing a remodel in a house and harder than building something new.

This side had storage compartments with doors. They looked nice, but it was not very functional. The doors were smaller than the space inside, making it awkward to fully utilize the space. And much of the space in the middle was not available. The top of the hanging locker on the starboard side had about a 2 inch high rail around it, and this was the most convenient storage space on the boat. I kept small things there that I used regularly and could get at them quickly.

Lots of storage space on a boat is under seats and bunks. So to get something you need to move a cushion and open a hatch, and rout around in there. It doesn’t sound that bad, but the reality is awkward. The storage we created along this wall has worked great and I’m so happy to have it.

My brother gave me this cherry wood to make the trim around the openings and I helped him mill it out of rough cut boards. I got it vanished during the summer and it looks really nice.

The bunk is nice and wide. It’s not quite long enough for me, but since we cut down the seatback on the aft end of the bunk, my feet can hang over onto the quarter berth. Trying to make the bunk longer would have hughly increased the scope of the project.

I managed to get a coat of paint on my floorboards so my cabin looked slightly less like a run-down tenement.

Man this was a pretty spot. The building over to the left was a nice restaurant called the Blue Oar. I ate there more often than I ought to have done since it was not inexpensive.

The Blue Oar from the dock.

Sunset, looking upstream.

In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not the most fastidious person in the world, so I’m proud of myself for doing a fairly careful job making a nice crisp line between the bottom paint and boottop.

I loved being at this marina. There were lots of friendly and interesting people to talk with, and it’s a beautiful area. And the folks who own and operate the mariina were a pleasure to work with.

In addition to the settee to bunk conversion, I sanded the bottom and put on new coat of bottom paint. I was able to rent a special sander than had a vacuum system. Bottom paint is poisonous— that’s why it keeps stuff from growing on the bottom of your boat. So it’s important to collect as much of the sanded off paint as possible. The sander/vacuum thing is the tool for the job. I also wore a protective cover-all and N95 mask (haven’t we learned all about them recently).

I also got a fresh zinc on my propeller shaft, and cleaned the “moustache” off my topsides. The moustache is what they call the brown stain that forms near the waterline at the front of the boat when you travel in the ICW. Much of the water there has a lot of tannins in it that have leached out of plants— it’s the color of a cup of tea.

Fairlady going back in the water at last.

I had expected to be hauled out for a few weeks, and didn’t get back in the water till July 6th!!! The work on the boat took longer than expected, and I was having too much fun spending time with my sweetheart and enjoying western Massachusetts. I ended up living there for the following 3 years.

Climbing the hill back to the storage lot.