Baby it's cold outside

I think that’s a title to a Christmas song, if I’m not mistaken.  But it seems appropriate because it has suddenly turned cold!  It seems mother nature got distracted and realized it was time for a season change.  In one fell swoop, it was unpleasantly cold.  Living on a boat when it’s 40 something degrees in the morning and a sunless 55 degrees during the day puts a damper on our fun.  We were happy as could be snug in Spa Creek, enjoying the fall sunshine and warmth.  Then we got slapped in the face with a cold front that sent temperatures plummeting and everyone inside, closing the hatches tight behind.

We do have a heater on board and it does work, however we have to run the generator to do so (or be plugged into shore power).  The oven also makes a great heater as well.  So, we have done a lot of baking; bread, biscuits, casseroles, cookies and muffins.  We are all going to get fat if this cold weather keeps up.  The only problem with these scenarios is we can’t do either one of them at night while we sleep.  It’s so cold that the girls are wearing hats and jackets to bed and sleeping all 3 in one bed to keep warm.   Craig is my personal heater, but even he had to put on a t-shirt.  We play rock, paper, scissors to see who gets out of bed to start the coffee.

Today the sun is shining, which brings a smile to my face as well as a little extra warmth.  We are really looking forward to heading as far south as we can, as quickly as we can.  

Donut muffins...mmmm good

All bundled up and ready to go ashore

We're at the Spa

We are anchored in Spa Creek, Annapolis, Maryland.  If you have been keeping up with our spot tracker, you'll already know that we have been in Annapolis for the past week and a half.  We arrived in plenty of time to scope out a comfortable spot in Spa Creek for the Annapolis Boat Show.

Passing under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge

Arriving in Annapolis

The Navy is watching us yet again....we just can't seem to shake them 

This is the first time since Maine that we are spending more than a few days somewhere.  It has been really nice to relax and get to know the place, even though it feels like we just got here yesterday.  Spa Creek is a stone's throw from the downtown Annapolis waterfront.  Every street that dead ends at the water, in this neighborhood, has a public dinghy dock.  How cool is that?  It's surrounded by beautiful homes with perfectly manicured lawns, shrubs and trees.  The green leaves on the trees changing to vibrant red and orange is evidence that fall is on its way.  The days are warm and the nights are cool.

Our view in Spa Creek

A bird enjoying the morning sunshine

We have caught up with new friends and reunited with old ones.  How does one distinguish between old and new when the timeline is only 3 months old?  Anyway you look at it, it's been great fun exchanging stories, talking about boat projects and future plans with fellow cruisers.

They look way to happy to be leaving without any parents!  Maggie driving Kate, Olivia, Justine and Colin (Full Monty) to the park.

The kids accompanied Jenny and I to the laundromat.  Here they are entertaining themselves by playing soccer with a water bottle cap.  

We celebrated Craig's birthday in true cruiser fashion, with a potluck at the park.  We met 2 other Manta boats, What if (another kid boat) and Sangaris, in the area and invited them as well.

Kate, Liv, random girl, Maggie Derek (What If), Colin and Justine (Full Monty)

Getting ready to sing Happy Birthday to Craig

Playing games with Bryson, Reese and Porter from Patronus

Salty Dawg Rally rendezvous with Chris and Erica from Patronus

One of our fellow Manta owners put together a dinner for all Manta owners that were going to be in Annapolis for the boat show.  Four of us sailed our boats here, the remainder flew in and left their boats at home.  We have an amazing group of owners that share information through an exclusive e-mail forum.  We are indebted to them for their expertise and willingness to help!

The Great Tooth Hunt:  at the park looking for Porter's lost tooth on the ground

All the kids playing games - inside

Grown ups outside

The cold front was on it's way....getting chilly

Delaware Traffic

According to some recent information, I am assuming that the trip up the Delaware can be feast or famine regarding the shipping traffic.  As we discovered on our first trip, there was much traffic to watch out for, the flies multiply out of nowhere and the river is so wide at the southern end, you can barely see the shore on either side.  There are shoals scattered all over the Delaware which requires a shipping channel to be dredged that runs smack dab in the middle of the river.  There is not much to look at along the way.  Let me rephrase that, there is nothing to look at.  It's kinda like being offshore in brown water.  Not particularly pretty.  However, the water was calm and the winds light, so we could't complain about that.

Cape May Lighthouse 

How'd you like to live in this house?

One of several ships that passed by

Fighter jets

This mega yacht towing a full size fishing boat got busted by a passing ship because he was a foreign registered boat over 200 tons and didn't have a pilot on board.  According to the passing ship, there is a $25,000 fine for not having a pilot on board.  A pilot, is a licensed captain that escorts ships (or mega yachts) in and out of harbors and shipping channels like the Delaware.  By the way, the thirty foot fishing boat behind the yacht is being towed and is the yachts "dinghy".

This barge was a MONSTER!  We counted 3 layers of 12 containers deep by14 containers long.  That's 504!  These were actually full size semi truck trailers.  Simply amazing!

Another tug pushing the monster as a 'regular' container ship passes on the other side.  This time, we moved outside the channel to allow these guys plenty of room to pass without having to worry about little ole us.

The Delaware looked beautiful in this light 

We arrived at the C&D (Chesapeake & Delaware) Canal in the dark at 8 pm.  There were tons of blinking navigational lights everywhere as 2 rivers merge into one at this point.  We dropped the hook and were tidying up the sails and getting the girls ready for bed when I hear "sailboat near the C&D Canal, this is ship so and so's captain" in a booming voice over the VHF.  I said out loud, hoping to get confirmation from someone in my  family "was he talkin' to meeee?"  I waited and then decide to speak back "aahhhh, this is sailing vessel Anything Goes, yes, we are anchored near the C&D Canal".  I wanted to make the 'anchored' part very clear.  He replied with something to the tune of "Are you south of the canal?  I'm coming in and you look like you are in the way".  What?  Yikes?  I thought we were in a designated anchorage?  Oh crap, what do I do now?  All this was running through my mind when I meekly replied "we just dropped anchor north of the canal in the general anchorage area".  He says, ok, no problem.  Phew.  Then someone else pipes in and says "sailing vessel that the ship was just talking to (no joke, he really said it just like that), this is the dredging boat.... crackle..... you..... crackle.... way..... crackle..... over"  What did he say?  We had a bad connection and decided to ignore him.  Tee Hee.

Birds of a feather, flock together

We mentioned at the beginning of our trip that we were definitely in the minority cruising New England in a catamaran.  We would get these long stares from boats passing by as if they were looking at some kind of phenomenon, fingers pointing and quiet conversation between them.  Remember the song from Sesame Street “which one of these is not like the other?”  We saw maybe 4 or 5 catamarans all summer, and seeing the same one twice doesn’t count. 

As November quickly approaches, the cruisers and snowbirds are heading south.  Recently, we have only met one boat heading north, home to Halifax.  When we stopped in Port Washington, we saw more cats than we'd seen all summer and then a few more by the time we left.   Holy catamaran, where were did they all come from?

I don't really know the answer to that question.  However, I can assure you they are making the yearly migration to the Caribbean like birds flying south on autopilot.  We think it’s funny how all of sudden everyone is moving in one direction with the same goal of getting to warmer climates.  It’s as if there is a grand exodus.  Here is how the conversation goes:

“Nice boat, where ya headed?”

“Thanks, we’re going to the Caribbean (or Bahamas or just south)”

“How about you?”

“Same”

“When are you leaving?”

“Sometime in November”

“How about you?”

“Same”

“What path are you taking”

“Don’t know yet”

“You?”

“Not sure, gotta wait and see what the weather window is”

“Yep”

“Maybe we’ll see you down there”

“Yep”

“Good luck”

“Thanks, you too”

And here we are at the Annapolis Boat Show, the largest catamaran show in the world (and monohulls too).  We are feeling quite at home in our new found flock!

Should I stay or should I go

 “Truly successful decision-making relies on a balance between deliberate and instinctive thinking.” - Malcolm Gladwell

When we made the decision to go into Cape May after our slog down the New Jersey Coast, we were faced with a decision that was difficult to make.  How does one know they are making the right decision?  Is it common to make the decision and then doubt it?   Or worse yet, fear the shoulda, woulda, coulda of hindsight?  How do you make a good decision? 

Craig and I typically weigh the pros and cons, as I’m sure that’s how most people do it.  Not only do we have to think about the safety of our family, but also we have to take in to account the abilities (or lack there of) of our boat and what she may or may not be able to handle.  

While resting at anchor, we were faced with waiting out high wind or confront the wind and waves in order to get around Cape May and head up the Delaware River.  The treacherous trek of our 30-hour passage was very fresh in our minds and we weren’t really interested in being in uncomfortable conditions again, so soon anyway.  We didn’t want to stay put until the winds died down either because we wanted to push on to Annapolis and take advantage of the good wind (from the appropriate direction) up the Delaware.  And we knew we couldn’t go through the Cape May canal because our mast was too tall for the fixed bridge.  We scrutinized the chart and the tide tables to figure when we needed to leave in order to have the current in our favor.  We also knew that there were many shoals around Cape May and we didn’t feel comfortable dodging them in high winds and waves or in the dark.

What to do, what to do??  We looked at one another and asked “what do you want to do?” and the other said, “I don’t know, what do you want to do?”  Have you ever been paralyzed by this situation?  In the end, we felt it was safer to leave in the day light hours.  Everything is better in the daytime, right?   Plus, as Craig said (jokingly) a daytime rescue was better than a night time one!   So we left at 8:45 in the morning slightly ahead of the changing tide to get a head start.  As it turned out, the waves were only really bad near the inlet and then seemed to settle down quickly.  We were able to hug the beach and make great time up the Delaware.  In hindsight, it was a good decision!

Curve Ball

Planning around the wind (direction and speed) and the low or high-pressure systems are top priorities when sailing.  We check multiple sources, beginning days ahead of departure, to make sure they are agreeable.  This time, even after paying close attention to the weather, checking it twice, and twice more, we got thrown a curve ball.  Sometimes Mother Nature has a mind of her own just to keep us on your toes, making sure things don’t get too easy out here. 

We sailed in light winds with our friends on Escape Velocity past the Statue of Liberty for the last time.  We planned to sail, overnight, the 110+ miles down the New Jersey coast on the coat tails of a cold front.  We knew the wind would eventually change to the southwest sometime in the night and hoped we’d be at the mouth of the Delaware by then.  At which point we would head north and the southerly wind would be ideal for sailing.  Even if we didn't make it to the Delaware before the wind changed it was forecast to be light from the Southwest and we could easily motor in light headwinds.  Sounds like good planning, right?  We won’t name names or point any fingers but if we were, it would be directly at the professional weather gurus.  They got it all WRONG!  The northerly wind switched to WSW even before we got passed Sandy Hook; the last bit of land before leaving New York. 

Heading out of New York Harbor - Verrazano-Narrows Bridge ahead

Escape Velocity sailing along side

We conversed with Escape Velocity, determined to keep going in search of stronger winds out at sea.  We did indeed find strong winds, but they were from the southwest; the exact wrong direction for sailing comfortably.  By 4 am, the winds had increased to 15-20 knots.   We were sailing as close-hauled as our boat would allow, slamming just off center to the waves, not making very good progress.  We tried tacking way out and then back again, hoping it would help us feel better about keeping the sails up.   Somewhere along the way, we lost sight of Escape Velocity off our stern.

Sneaking a peak into the wind

The Tug plowing through the waves....

...towing a barge!  And he was going much faster than we were.

When the wind reached 25-30 knots and 3-6 foot waves were crashing over the boat from the windward side and over the bow, Craig noticed our jib sail had broken.  Our hearts sank as the image registered in our brains.  Did we have to buy a whole new sail?  Could it be repaired?  Was it the camber spar?  Would we have to get a new one custom made??  Immediately, dollar signs were swirling around my head like Wiley Coyote did when Roadrunner dropped a boulder on his head.

The rod that holds the two fittings together, broke

We dropped the jib sail and decided to stop in Cape May were we could hide from the high wind and waves and regroup.  Unfortunately, Cape May was another 10 miles, which is a long way in steep waves in a 30 knot headwind.  As the boat rode up a wave, our speed decreased.  As we raced down the backside, we increased speed.  This was not helpful in our nearly nonexistent forward progress.  Some waves allowed a gentle transition between the trough and the next.  But more often than not, the boat lurched and rolled through the waves as they crested and tumbled over the top.  We encountered several waves that were taller than 6 feet (or so it seemed) – not many, but enough to make things exciting.  As I turned to go in the Cape May inlet, I watched with big eyes as we climbed one such wave, reached the top and looked down a cliff on the other side.   This resulted in a dramatic scream (me) as the wave splashed over the entire boat, clearing the bimini (the roof covering our cockpit), which is a good ten feet above our waterline and getting Craig wet on the other side!!   Needless to say, we were all very relieved to be in the calm waters of Cape May for the night!  With closer inspection, we would not need to replace the entire sail, just the fitting.  It still has to be custom made but a lot less expensive comparatively.  We felt lucky.