I just gave someone my blog address where I make changes and such. Uh, oh I will send the correct e-mail for viewing purposes only. Guess I need to pay more attention.
Like now, I am paying close attention to unfavorable sailing weather reports for the east coast and Bermuda. Having made it to Sandy Hook, New Jersey I am anxious to test my sailing savvy on a real off shore cruise. The summer storms have me concerned. If truth be told, I am scared to make this crossing. One low pressure system just passed Bermuda and is heading north east.
Settled at the Atlantic Highlands Yacht Club mooring basin, it is tempting to just hang out on the boat all day. I am waiting for charts to be delivered. Had I known places along the way would be just as deplete of charts of Bermuda I would have ordered them before leaving. I was naive to believe ship stores in Portsmouth and New Jersey would have sailors who frequent Bermuda. Looking back I should have ordered online, which is what I did here yesterday.
Picking up my friend, Maryanne, in Atlantic City was easy. Only the wind howled out of the northeast for days. Finally we gritted our teeth and headed north on Saturday. With 4 foot waves in front of us, along with the wind on our nose, as we left the Asceon Inlet I wondered if I could endure the 100 mile trip to Sandy Hook. Initially I envisioned being able to reach off and tack up the coast. Ha, ha, what a joke. I wasted four hours heading eastward only to have to tack back at such a tight angle to the wind we barely made any forward progress. So, on with the iron jenny. Ten hours later we rounded the great sandy hook, dropped anchor in the restricted navy basin and got a good night's sleep.
At the crack of dawn, thanks to my wonderful watch commander, we were hauling up not just the anchor but a humungous shrimper's net. It was cram packed with crabs, live ones. The only challenge was untangling, i.e. cuttingit off. Inch by inch I sawed off a piece of the disgustingly slimy, barnacle encrusted netting. It was as it the anchor intentionally wedged its way into the deepest part of the tangled mess. After about ten minutes of sawing the net and anchor parted company. With the anchor at bay we sailed away from the Navy base, crossed the ferry channel and made our way slowly into the Atlantic Highlands Municipal Marina.
I was so proud of my first mate and friend, Maryanne. When I eased us next to the mooring ball she lifted one of the lines and quickly hooked it to the s/b cleat. Quick and agile as a bunny she leaped, crawled, and wedged her way through the menagerie of safety lines to the port bow. With boat hook in hand she snagged the other line and seized it to the port cleat. Within less than a minute we were secure. Just like pros.
It is a great mooring field. With their launch service we were easily able to accomodate my brother (Harry) and sister (Jane) who helped us celebrate completing our first leg of this great sailing adventure. Before boarding, Harry served as our limo driver as we traveled in style to and from Moby's restaurant. Moby's (next door to the infamous Bahr's restaurant) is nestled along the ICW. With outdoor seating its a classic raw bar with wooden picnic tables and semi self serve style. For lunch we dined on fresh pisser and steamed clams. Although the french fries were tasty they weren't as crispy as the chef indicated they would be. Then, again this wasn't a fast food restaurant. Rather you could actually taste the potato inside each fresh fry.
Back on SPRAY, the four of us chatted about life's little dilemnas, caught up on each other's lives than by 6 pm called it a day. I so wanted Harry and Jane to join us for the passing of the statue of liberty but everyone's schedule just doesn't seem to jive. Landlubbers have difficulty understanding the challenges sailors face with regard to timing. So with guilt in my heart, I have to make the passage without a family member on board. This saddens me, but my true goal to reach Bermuda then home safely weighs heavily on my mind.
I have another friend who kept saying she wanted to meet me while here in Jersey. Every day, here at Sandy Hook and when I spent four days in Atlantic City she put me off. Then, this morning she writes, "Will you be stopping on your way back, I can certainly meet you then." Ay, hogwash I say. Anyway, it's time to say good by to my Sea Knots friends. Be well, stay safe, and love the life your living....
Sassea
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