Page 14 - Yachter Winter 2019

14 CRUISING REPORTS
promised Northerly had mutated into an Easterly and, with a wave height of several feet, the risk of accidental gybing if we ran dead downwind was too great. So, at 1335 we gybed onto a beam reach with 60% sail, heading south to get around Montauk Point. Once clear, we bore off SW onto a broad reach, gybing at 1650 back towards Long Island.At 1800 we took a long tack out to sea. David stood watch 1900 to 2300 while Richard got his head down. By the time he reappeared, the wind had increased and was gusting and we were averaging 7.5 knots, so he further shortened sail to 25%. Back on watch again from 0400, in the deeply black moonless night, David experienced what appeared to be an enormous wind shift: the autohelm - presumably becoming homesick – had kicked out and swung Swallow’s bow east, back towards Wickford, so she was suddenly heading directly into the wind and sea.There is a theory that when on board Richard sleeps with one eye open - or maybe it was the change in the movement
- but he was back on deck sharpish and
he and David quickly got her back on her track towards the bright lights. Later on, a (genuine!) wind shift to 250 degrees brought us within sight of the approaches to the Ambrose Channel, and a tack to 290 at 0530 got us to our intended spot neatly at 0730.
This one blip aside, the passage sounds straightforward, and I was assured by Richard that we had had ‘perfect’ conditions for it.True, we had been able to sail most
of the way, with winds of 15 to 25 knots. We made good time and encountered remarkably little shipping or problems. I was the only person aboard prone to seasickness and had applied a Scopolamine patch which, unlike any other medication, renders me positively bionic in a seaway, so that had not been an issue either.
However, if you are fortunate enough to live beside – and sail upon - the sheltered waters of the huge Narragansett Bay and
have never previously undertaken an ocean passage, the shock of the incessant turbulent, washing machine style twisting movement can understandably be enormous. Ellen,
who had been tense, but not apparently overly threatened, on the sail to Block Island, was suddenly encountering a nightmare world, exacerbated by sleep deprivation, as she was hurled from one side to the other
of the double stern bunk.With enormous difficulty, defying gravity and sudden lurches, she pulled herself through to the companionway and begged for it all to stop. Recalling my first overnight Atlantic passage in heavy weather only a few years before, I recognised what she was going through. I checked with David whether there was any way of moderating the movement but knew the answer already; reducing sail or using
the motor would have resulted in greater wallowing. Rigging the lee cloth (fitted on the starboard berth) was my first thought, but I wasn’t confident I could sort it out and I didn’t want to disturb the sleeping Skipper, so decided on the port bunk (more suited
to our tack, anyway), wedged with pillows against the cabin table. (I considered the idea of tucking the Gin bottle in next to Ellen, but thought that might be overreacting...) This arrangement, enhanced by the cosy sleeping bag which Richard donated when he awoke, helped her turn the corner from terror and distress to the happier state of mere anxiety combined with extreme discomfort... she claims her teeth were so tightly clenched it took her a week for her jaw muscles to recover!
In the calmer waters of the Ambrose Channel, the relief on Ellen’s face suggested the - admittedly iconic - sight of Manhattan apparently floating on the horizon was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.And
it does feel very special to pass under the Verrazano Bridge into NewYork Harbour, spot the Statue of Liberty, avoid the commercial shipping, duck around the Staten Island Ferries, enter the Hudson River and hang a left to the plushy Liberty Landing marina on the New Jersey shore. (Like any other high-end marina - except it is in the heart of NewYork City and surrounded by soaring skyscrapers, which twinkled into a magical backdrop as night fell...).
Richard and Janet’s one-year old grandson Oliver hopped aboard with his parents for his first sail on Swallow the next day, and David and (especially) Ellen enjoyed the gentle motoring through the East River waterway between NY Harbour and
Long Island Sound, under the Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queensboro and Williamsburg bridges to Hell Gate, where the narrows need to be negotiated with a following
tide. (The Dutch Hellegat - beautiful gateway - named by Adrian Block, of Block Island fame, was apparently corrupted by the British to Hell Gate on their charts, presumably as a nod to the current).And
on and on we went through district after district to Manhasset, our base for a New York visit and the jumping-off point for our return cruise to Wickford.
Our planning had, sort of, all worked out, albeit with a different crew and adjusted timing and passage plan. And Ellen has concluded that she is not a total Reluctant Sailing Wife, but has created her own classification in the sliding scale of enthusiasm demonstrated by partners who accompany their men on the water – ‘DS’. She is strictly a Day Sailor. (I suspect NB can be added to that – ‘in Narragansett Bay only’!)
Angela Rice September 2018
THERE IS A THEORY THAT WHEN ON BOARD RICHARD SLEEPS WITH ONE EYE OPEN