Sunday, October 22, 2023

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

I've been "yard-blogging" for so long now that I'm out of practice on my more usual style of travelogue, peppered with occasional boat maintenance and a measure of snark. Bear with me as I try to get back into the swing of things.

Vector under way off Avalon, NJ, as seen by the crew of the northbound Journey. Photo: Michelle Summers

Now that we're off the ocean and have more latitude on the amount of progress we make each day, we are moving at a much more relaxed pace. One which we have not seen, really, since we departed Fort Lauderdale in March, giving ourselves just over a month to make our yard date in New York. That said, we can't be too relaxed, since we are much too far north to still be here in November.

The lovely American Tug Journey northbound. After they sent such nice photos of Vector I felt bad that this was the best shot I took.

Wednesday after I posted here we made Absecon Inlet on a fair tide and in just enough time to head ashore for dinner. We were too late for our usual trick of inexpensive happy hour apps at the Chart House, but we went there anyway because it was convenient and we were in a celebratory mood. The marina had assigned us a dock-and-dine slip when I called from offshore, but we opted to get Vector squared away in the anchorage first (map) and then tender in, rather than have to move the boat in the dark after dinner.

Another gift from Journey. Vector looks pretty good in her new clothes. Photo: Michelle Summers

The current is wicked in Absecon Inlet, and whether coming or going, it's best to try not to have it against you. So Thursday morning we were up before dawn to beat the change of tide and get out of Atlantic City with it behind us, a full hour before twilight. We generally try to limit our nocturnal movement to well offshore, but a deep familiarity with Absecon, coupled with a dozen plotter tracks, made it a safe and easy exit. The casinos are a mixed blessing; they mean it's not entirely dark, while at the same time you are driving into bright lights and have no hope of keeping any night vision, which does not recover before you have to spot buoys in the dark.

Sunrise over the Atlantic.

The pre-dawn departure allowed for a spectacular sunrise at sea, and we had an excellent push all the way to Cape May, where we had the hook down in our usual anchorage off the Coast Guard base (map) before lunch time. An early afternoon turn of the tide made it impractical to continue further into Delaware Bay, so we just had a relaxing afternoon at anchor. I knocked out a couple of projects, including weather-stripping the back door, and cutting the leftover plastic sheet from the windscreen project to fit down the stairs and under the mattress. We tendered to our regular haunt, the Harbor View, for dinner. The more casual deck was closed so we ate upstairs in the dining room like civilized folk.

Vector in her anchorage as seen from the appropriately named Harbor View.

I had figured on taking two days to transit up the Delaware Bay, but the timing was perfect with a Friday morning departure to ride the tide all the way to the C&D Canal and then continue on to Chesapeake City, where we dropped the hook in the well-protected anchorage basin (map), It was a bit of a squeeze with five sailboats already anchored, but we've done this so many times now that we know exactly where to drop, how far we'll swing, and how much chain we need.

We always pass close by the Salem nuclear generating station as we transit Delaware Bay. On this occasion they are refueling Unit 1 and the containment doors are open; with my glasses I could see right in to the containment.

Good thing, because we needed to hunker down there for two nights and wait out some strong winds that have moved through the area. We were very glad to already be off Delaware Bay when they hit, and not be under any pressure to continue into Chesapeake Bay. Remaining in the basin longer than 24 hours technically requires permission from the Canal dispatcher under federal law. When I called on the radio to ask, the dispatcher was baffled by the request. No one ever bothers to ask and so they're not even really aware that it's required. We interpreted "we don't care" as "permission granted" and left it at that.

Chesapeake City from our anchorage. At the free dock directly ahead of us is a lovely Hatteras 58 LRC, one of the models we looked at when we were shopping.

All the other boats in the anchorage as well as the two over on the free government dock all spent both nights as well, since there were small craft advisories all day on both bays. We took the opportunity yesterday morning to have breakfast at the Cafe on the Bay in town, a joint which has opened since our last stop here and was quite good. A worthy replacement for the other breakfast place that closed down a few years ago. We had dinner at the Chesapeake Inn, good as usual if a bit spendy, and The Bayard House, even more spendy but not nearly as good.

Yet another shot under way. The lighting was perfect from their vantage. Thanks, Journey! Photo: Michelle Summers

We had a bit of an oddity with our AIS between Cape May and Chesapeake City. Louise often pulls up the Marine Traffic web site to get voyage details and photos of vessels around us, and in doing so she noticed that Vector had transformed into a fishing vessel with a 13' draft and destined for "GEORGES B" (instead of our set destination of Norfolk) which we took to be the Georges Bank. At first we thought it was a glitch on Marine Traffic, but when I pulled our voyage data up on our transponder, that's what was set. The bogus data was saved when I changed our Navigation Status from At Anchor to Under Way, but no one I've asked has a clue how it got in there. Cosmic rays.

The history graph at right shows our draft increasing to 4m just as our speed jumped up leaving the anchorage, leading us to believe the bad data was written when we changed nav status.

This morning we ruminated about staying right there in the anchorage basin for a third night, as forecast winds on the Chesapeake would make for difficult travel and challenging anchoring. With only a short window to depart with favorable current in the morning, we opted to get underway in the hopes that forecast conditions might improve, with a couple of early bail-out options in mind.

Wind 27 gusting to 33 in our anchorage today.

We did not get far. With winds out of the north/northwest, and the western shore of the bay off limits along the Aberdeen Proving Ground, we dropped the hook here in the Elk River, in a spot called Rogues Harbor just north of the tip of Elk Neck (map), barely two hours after weighing anchor. We have a good lee here, and the seas are calm save for the occasional tugboat wake, but we're still seeing stiff winds. It's possible to tender ashore to the state park for a walk, but with temperatures in the 50s and so much wind, we've just been relaxing on board. In the morning we'll continue down the bay to Annapolis, where it should be a few degrees warmer.

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