Cooling our heels in Cape May

I'm hugging the stainless steel bimini frame behind the wheel as Messenger is tossed to and fro. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for deliverance from seasickness, the cold, the howling wind in any way God sees fit to make it happen.

Then Messenger hits a wall of water and the boat is engulfed in a wave, the dodger and the enclosure are soaked and the water drips through a few tiny holes. I sit up and Reg and Elizabeth and Scott and I all yell at the same time. Messenger is fine and suddenly I am too. A brush with death tends to snap me out of seasickness.

We are rounding the Cape May shoal. It was supposed to be 10 to 15 knots of wind at our back, a nice gentle run down the Delaware to the ocean. It was that for about an hour and then it started to build and the rainstorms never left us. Our friends Stu and Tony on Georgia E were holding their own on their tough Bayfield 36 and we were doing the same, both of us topping 10 knots in speed as we rushed with the current down to the ocean with breaking waves building behind us. Then we had to turn to go around the shoal and we knew it would be bad.

Later Tony and Stu said they thought it was going to be worse. Huh.

We fought our way up to Cape May for about 10 miles and finally Reg succumbed to seasickness and after he asked for a bowl, I ran to the head for a quick trip and opened the door and found all of my makeup box had emptied upside down after flying out of the cupboard. Someone, probably me, hadn't closed it all the way. I had to maneuvre taking down three pairs of pants, doing my business then redressing and emerging all the while trying not to slip on lipstick and mascara tubes. I climbed back into the cockpit in time to help Reg with being sick and then boy was I sick. That's when I climbed behind the wheel with Scott.

We got into Cape May and the 20 knots we anchored in felt like a light breeze. We both tucked in for the night and the next morning we were getting ready to go into Utsch's Marina and Georgia E's anchor started to drag. We finally got in after maneuvring in this shallow harbour.

We met up with some cruisers we had met in the Bahamas from Quebec and they told us that the Erie Canal was closed. Yikes. We checked and yes, not only was it closed due to all the runoff and intense rain they've had, the earliest possible day for opening is the week of May 23 (our wedding anniversary).

So we've been regrouping. Our plan now is stay in Cape May for one more day, then head for our 120-mile passage to New York late tomorrow, arriving Sunday morning. We now have a few days to enjoy New York. So we'll do that: Elizabeth and I are planning a shopping day and I am on a mission to get to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Then we'll go up the Hudson, take the mast down and settle in at Waterford, NY, the entrance to the canal. Then it looks as though I may rent a car and drive home with the kids and Scott will stay behind on the boat. Once the canal is open, we'll join him and help him bring the boat home. That's Plan A.

We have several other plans as well, depending on a number of variables. It's not the glorious end-of-trip finale I envisioned, but then, what the heck. We're anxious to get home for Pete's sake and Reg has a course he's lined up to take in early June and he may have exams to write as well. So, like the rest of this trip, plans are written in Jello and we'll have to just figure it out as we go along and try not to spend the Earth getting home.