Captain Murph

Although the weather was better on Thursday, the rain, breeze and clouds made it hard to believe.  The improvement was smaller waves and less boisterous gusts.  The breeze was north and east so once we turned south it was behind the beam.  We left Rockport with hopes for the forecast to improve as the day wore on.

Kip, Kelly and I were sailing in company with Windeva, a Cheoy Lee ketch with wooden masts out of Falmouth, Maine.  Her skipper was sailing solo to Scituate, Massachusetts, so we departed at the same time and stayed within sight of each other for the entire day.  For the first several miles it was a challenge to stay visible to each other as the visibility through the gray haze and patchy fog was a mile or less.

The waves north of Cape Ann crashed noisily past us as we forced our way through them for the first hour, but then as our course turned to the south the waves were then on our stern so we could surf them across Massachusetts Bay.  

The rain was steady and heavy until the clouds thinned enough to see a lighter gray sky, but no sun, in the early afternoon.  We could make out our destination, a lighthouse standing proud at the entrance to Scituate Harbor.  On this day, the closer we approached, the less we could see the lighthouse!  The fog was returning and threatening to make the harbor entrance a challenge to enter.  

Fortunately, visibility was never less than half a mile which was plenty to make out the red and green buoys to follow them into the harbor.  We topped off our diesel and water, then picked up a mooring for the night.

The next morning the fog returned with a vengence and we could see no more than a quarter mile for the entire morning.  We saw a sailboat and a couple lobster boats sneak past us in the dim gray haze, but no whales despite Cape Cod Bay being known for great whale watching.

Two hours out from Sandwich, the skies cleared and the wind filled in so we sailed (no motor!) the balance of the day, jibing our way to the eastern entrance of the Cape Cod Canal.  The marina was filled with commercial fishing boats and charters and only a few sailboats.

In Sandwich, our dockmate was a Frenchman from St. Pierre, the island off the coast of Newfoundland that is still part of France.  The three of us joined the crew from Dragon's Wing, a steel, junk-rigged sailboat that I had moored next to in Baddeck, Nova Scotia, for a drink and lots of great conversation and camaraderie.

The next morning was a great sailing day, bursting bright and sunny over us.  Kip and I waited for the tide to turn so Kelly IV could ride the favorable current through the canal.  With the strong current carrying us quickly to the southwest, we were through the canal in just over an hour!  We made great time seeing our speed over ground exceed 8 knots for much of the canal.

The breeze was aft of the beam so we set the main and genoa wing and wing, shut off the engine (yea!) and spent the entire run to Cuttyhunk Island under sail.  We found ourselves heading southwest parallel to another sailboat just a mile away.  As many of you know, when two sailboats are headed the same direction you have what we call . . . “a Race!”  We had a reef in Kelly's mainsail, but only because we had seen a small tear in the sail that we did not want turning into a large tear. Our competitor had full main and jib so it seemed the other guy might win our “race”.  Then we rigged the whisker pole which pumped our speed by a full knot or more and we slowly but decisively pressed our advantage and left our parallel sailboat behind us.

Cuttyhunk is a very rural island with 200 seasonal and 20 year around residents.  We dinghied ashore for a brief walk, but took a detour when we were hailed by a sailing couple who had questions about our bright yellow Portland Pudgy.  They invited us aboard from drinks and conversation which Kip and I enjoyed.  When it was clear that twilight might keep us from our walk ashore, we climbed back into our dinghy and continued to the island.  Once ashore, we walked across the island and viewed Martha's Vineyard from the eastern shore, then returned to Kelly to watch the evening's entertainment.  An unattended anchored sailboat dragged and banged into an anchored  cruising trawler before the harbormaster got control of her.  We were on a mooring a couple hundred yards away and were too far away to help, but within view of much of the activity.

Amazingly, the next morning proved to be another terrific day of sailing.  The wind had clocked to the east, but now our course took us west, so we sailed downwind jibing the mainsail from wing and wing to a port tack run.  We were again using the whisker pole to keep the genny filled as Kelly bounded before the following waves towards Newport, Rhode Island.

It was clear we were headed to sailing's Mecca, as we passed more sailboats, sailboat races, and pleasure craft on the water than Kelly and I had seen all summer.  While there were lots of sailboats in Maine, especially Southwest Harbor, the number of boats actually out sailing was much greater in Rhode Island.

Kip and I turned Kelly north along the west side of Conanicut Island, Jamestown, Rhode Island.  Once inside Dutch Island we dropped the hook in Dutch Harbor for the week.  We planned to visit Newport and the Newport International Boat Show (NIBS) and doing so from our own vessel, anchored for free, was great!

The NIBS takes place over the weekend, September 15 – 18.  Kip and I took the bus to Newport and played tourist, walking the docks as the boats were being jostled into place amongst the temporary docks set up for the show.  Later in the day, the International Yacht Restoration School provoked our interest when we took advantage of their workshop, set up so visitors could take in the wonderful aroma of wood being worked and shaped as the craftsmen restored the wooden yachts.

I have decided that Narragansett Bay will be the end of our cruising for this year.  I spent much of today calling boatyards and viewing websites to select a yard for Kelly IV to spend the winter.  We'll schedule her haulout for next week and spend several days getting her decommissioned so she weathers the cold New England winter and is ready to continue our cruise again next summer.

Kelly IV and I have now cruised 2488 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

After sailing Kelly IV 1135 nautical miles solo, Kelly and I have crew!  Kip Martin joined Kelly's crew in Portland arriving on board Friday afternoon.  Kip got a thorough walk around to get the layout and safety details, then left to do some shopping for groceries.  I did our route planning for the next few legs, plotting waypoints and routes for us to safely make our way into Massachusetts.

Kip hiked the groceries to Kelly over two miles, round trip.  I stowed the food while he settled his gear into the bunk and spaces allotted to him.  We had dinner and chatted, then climbed into our bunks for the night.

About 5:30am, the dawn light woke me so we got ready for an early departure.  The forecast was calling for wind and waves to be directly on our nose and that they would build through the day.  Our plan was to sail early while things were more calm and beat the rougher afternoon weather to port.  We only had about 9 hours at cruising speed to travel, and the plan has worked in the past, so we dropped the mooring and were off.

Our departure was noteworthy as we passed a large cruise ship and her accompanying two 50 caliber machine gun Coast Guard escorts as they were entering Portland Harbor.  Kip also sighted a seal and commented on the large number of lobster pots.  As we gained the open sea, we found the breeze was already 10 knots or more and the waves were consistently 4 feet or more.  With these two forces pressing us in the face, Kelly was making about 3 knots velocity made good.  Then the wind and waves began to increase which knocked our speed to around 2 – 2.5 knots.  At that point, I decided to turn around and return to Portland.  If the forecast was correct about the weather getting windier and wavier (is that a word?) directly in our face, then we'd never make our next harbor by nightfall.

After we turned around and had the wind and waves at our back and quarter, the ride was smoother and we raised our sails and killed the engine.  It was a fine day for sailing, just not the direction we needed to sail.  Then I noticed that in our earlier bouncing around, we knocked loose another solar panel support, just as it happened in the storm sailing out of St. Peters, Nova Scotia.  Apparently, I did not fix all the weak points and the last one failed in the rocking seas.

We dodged unforecasted rain as we picked up our mooring, then repaired the loose support.  Of course, the repair involved hanging out over the stern of the boat, so if any parts were dropped they'd immediately be lost to Neptune.  Thankfully Neptune didn't take anything from us that day.

As the morning wore on, we saw the day unfold with light winds in the harbor, finally building to about 10 knots in the afternoon.  Since it was too late to restart and make our destination, we decided to enjoy a daysail in Portland Harbor, just sailing Kelly IV back and forth with the other weekend sailors and wooden charter boats.  It proved to be a wonderful time just relaxing and literally showing Kip the ropes.  As a former dinghy sailor, he picked up the nuances of sailing Kelly IV quickly and was tacking smoothly as we dodged the harbor traffic and lobster pots.

On Sunday morning, we dropped our Portland mooring making our second departure, and this time we really made the trip!  It was clear as we exited the harbor, but then the fog rolled in and our view dropped to less than 1/4 mile.  For several hours we motored through calm but patchy fog, occasionally  seeing a freighter or lobster boats a mile or so away, then entering another patch of fog and passing a buoy by only a couple hundred yards and never seeing it, except on radar.

As noon approached, the fog cleared and the sun ruled the rest of the day.  The breeze also gradually filled in, first from the southwest (directly on Kelly's bow), then sliding off to the south.  We were able to gain a few tenths of a knot in speed by motorsailing with our mainsail up and we gained a few more tenths of a knot as the wind strengthened and became more southerly.

Kip sighted a fin whale just a hundred feet off our starboard bow and again only 50 feet off our port beam.  The thrill was terrific as we smiled and laughed about the very cool experience of seeing the whale up close and personal.

10 miles from our destination, York Harbor, I saw what appeared to be a city skyline many miles away off our starboard bow.  A mile later, I realized it was the dramatic outline of the Cape Neddick Nubble.  This is a small rocky outcrop of an island with a lighthouse and keeper's house, just off Cape Neddick.  With the rocks, lighthouse, and keeper's house all scratching distinct lines against the afternoon sky, the outline of their features appeared to me as a distant city skyline.

As we approached York River, the harbor entrance, we found ourselves amongst several other sailboats enjoying the southwest breeze for a boisterous sail in the 3 – 5 feet waves, including a small laser, just like the ones Kip used to sail.

Monday, September 5 was sunny and beautiful, but the forecast called for southwesterlies up to 20+ knots and waves 3-5 feet all of which would make for an uncomfortable bash motoring south.  Instead we relaxed in port, doing some minor boat work, laundry and route planning.  Our entertainment for the day was to rig the sailing gear on the Portland Pudgy and we sailed up the York River, with the flood tide until we had to drop the mast at a low bridge.  We continued our exploration of the river, as massive summer homes peered at us over the evergreen treetops.  When the tide turned, we rode the ebb back down to Kelly.

Our trip to Rockport, Massachusetts began in the morning as we dropped the mooring and motored out of the harbor on the first of the ebb current.  Although the day was a little rainy and gray, the wind was a favorable northerly with the 2 – 4 feet waves rolling us gently on our way.

We passed east of the Isles of Shoals, a group of islands about 6 nautical miles southeast of Portsmouth, NH.  The waves crashed ashore only a half mile from us and that was our closest approach to the state of New Hampshire.

Although the lobster pots were less evident on this leg they were still a nautical hazard to be dealt with so Kip & I took turns as lookout or helmsman, working to avoid them successfully.  We also steered clear of a fishing trawler with outriggers and nets working her gear, but she was much easier to see than the brightly colored, but frequently obscured lobster pots.

We tied up at a 2-boat floating dock, moored just off the wharf in Rockport Harbor, and met our neighbors on the dock.  Steve and his daughter had sailed to Rockport from Newburyport the day before against the wind and waves that Kip and I avoided.  They said it was a rough, uncomfortable sail.

The rain forecasted for Wednesday convinced us to stay in port, especially as Hurricane Katia is now predicted to turn sharply northeast and far away from us in Massachusetts.  This means the weather will improve over the next few days.  We are using the engine to recharge the batteries, as the gray, rainy, shorter day is limiting the power from the solar panels.  I'll use the power to update the website, as we have good internet access from the boat.

Kelly IV and I have now travelled over 2349 nautical miles from Erie, PA.