We're salty now

This family of Lake Erie sailors are now also blue water sailors. We left New York City Harbour at the 79th Street Basin in Manhattan at about 6 a.m.

Lisa's Dad Terry Grace came aboard in New York to help the crew make our long passage to Cape May or Delaware. We rode the current down the Hudson - dodging ferries, stopped in to get fuel (and a much needed pumpout and some water) and made our way to the channel that led under the famed Varrazano Narrows bridge. It was quite a sight - all of these big ocean freighters passing us on our way to Sandy Hook. We motored so as to get out of their way. We soon rounded Sandy Hook and set our course for a couple of miles offshore.

The problem for Messenger with this passage is that with her 6' draft, we can't stop anywhere except perhaps Atlantic City - about 90 miles from Sandy Hook - until we get to Cape May. Then in Cape May, we would likely have to anchor and then come back out to round the Cape to head up Delaware Bay to make another 56 miles up to the Delaware River and the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. We couldn't continue through Cape May due to our 55' mast and a fixed bridge with only 57 feet clearance. Too close!

We carried on although to our dismay the wind piped up to 18 knots and was dead on our nose when it was supposed to be out of the west. We kept on motoring hoping it would shift. The seas built and we started slamming into the waves.

It did calm down at night but not until about 10 p.m. We made a simple dinner of chicken in the oven and rice. Dad was on galley duty and while making dinner he was checking out the charts when a weather alert sounded on our radio (a new feature on this new radio of ours which is quite handy)and it warned of severe thunderstorms with 60 mile winds, hail and rain, not to mention lightning. At the same time, NOAA warned of hurricanes and tropical storms building in the Caribbean. Dad said his stomach lurched when he heard that. But it was clear where we were - the storms were northeast of our position and the hurricanes were way south. Still, it was enough to put him off his dinner which we all happily wolfed down.

Dad, Scott and I took turns at watches with Scott in charge of navigation. We had purchased a GPS chart plotter in NY at a small West Marine store downtown but we are very impressed with this little thing. It was about $439 and also has tides and currents as well as all U.S. and Bahamas charts. We can also buy Canadian charts later when we go home. It sits right in front of the wheel (OK, so we just clamped it for the trip) but it helped the helmsman enormously, particularly in the Delaware.

All night we took on the waves with the mighty Perkins diesel.

We reached Cape May at about 6 a.m. but Scott and Dad decided that given the forecast, the helpful tidal current and the clear skies, we'd keep going toward the C&D canal up Delaware Bay.

We kept motoring as the wind nicely shifted with us remaining on our nose. We started to turn up the the bay and the waves and wind built all day. Then it got nasty. Waves built to five and six feet with only three feet max between them, breaking occasionally over the bow. On top of that, just outside the narrow channel up the bay which is very busy with freighters and tugs and barges is a series of oyster fishing grounds which pose hazards.

We caught sight of another sailboat motorsailing with the main. Dad and Lisa worked to get the mainsail up and then Scott came up after another failed attempt at sleep. The main helped enormously powering through the worst of the waves. The trip started to seem as if it would never end. We were getting a bit punchy and weary with lack of sleep, hygiene and covered in saltwater. Dad kept out spirits up though, just by being Dad. For example, at one point, a giant wave broke over the bow, knocking the jerry cans around and nearly sweeping our life raft overboard. Dad turned to us and said with a thrill, "Gee, this is like something you see in the movies!" I kind of hoped he wasn't talking about The Perfect Storm.

Of course, even though we were motorsailng, hadn't really slept in 36 hours and smelled bad, the fact that another sailboat was in our vicinity was a declaration of war to Dad and Scott. They turned off the motor, unfurled the genny and we heeled over and Messenger had a bone in her teeth and taught that Morris Yacht a thing or two. We screamed up the Delaware River at about 8 knots.

The fun only lasted about half an hour though. Then it was iron genny back on and we made our way up to Delaware City. Scott had put a roast beef in the oven and when we finally got into the municipal marina here we were grateful for that and the trimmings. The boat was a mess, everything was coated in saltwater but we were in safely after our first ocean passage.

Dad made plans to get a taxi to the airport in Philadelphia early Wednesday morning.

We were all sad to see him go - it was so nice to have him share our crazy adventure with us.

Hopefully he and mom can join us for a slightly more relaxing visit soon.

We spent a day in Delaware City washing clothes - we had a small leak in the anchor locker that became a big problem when we were imitating a submarine for a day or two. Scott patched that up, Lisa scrubbed the boat from one end to the next and the kids caught up on a bit of homework.

Scott also took off the blower on the engine which went during the trip and once again postponed fixing the beast that is our head.

We treated ourselves to dinner out at Kathy's Crab House and got a lesson on how to eat crabs Delware style. Aidan, a positive landlubber when it comes to food, was not impressed with the way we attacked our platter of seafood and escaped the restaurant after his hamburger.


We're planning on heading down the C&D canal tomorrow, perhaps getting to Havre de Grace to anchor in Chesapeake Bay.

It feels so good to get this far.