US East Coast to the Caribbean - Pacific Crossing Notes: A Sailor's Guide to the Coconut Milk Run - page 157

Moving with the Seasons
Making our home on the water and following the seasons, we felt like part of a natural
cycle, moving in step with flocks of geese who settled on the ground each evening and rose
aflutter each morning, heading south, ever south. Now in Buzzard's Bay, we could ride fif-
teen to twenty knot following winds to intriguing places like little Cuttyhunk, with its
handful of year-round residents and World War II lookout stations; legendary Newport,
where we were more impressed by the lovely colonial houses in the historic district than
the famous mansions; and Block Island, the smallest city in the smallest state, according to
tourist literature. This was coastal cruising at its best, blessed with Indian summer weather
and a mini adventure in every port - a winding hike, a foggy bike ride, a meander along
brick-paved side streets. Except for an afternoon devoted to re-connecting the SSB trans-
ceiver, the ever-present job list was pushed to the back burner while we built memories
from the sights (historic lighthouses), sounds (honking geese), and flavors (ice cream) of
each day. Anchorages were void of summer crowds and temperatures were back up over
60°F, making a dip in the sea a pleasure rather than a major act of willpower.
The only thing marring our enjoyment of these quintessential New England pleasures was
anxiety over our upcoming leg to New York City. We penciled out a precise schedule to run
the gauntlet of strong currents ahead: a foggy 10 a.m. departure from Block Island to catch
slack tide at The Race, the western entry point to Long Island Sound, followed by a
current-enhanced westward run throughout the shower-swept afternoon. Just as predicted,
Namani's speed dipped at night when the tide turned, and true to the forecast, rows of dark
clouds drenched us in a series of wet onslaughts.
A bigger challenge than the weather was keeping track of commercial boat traffic. In open
water, it's quite effective to light up a ship like a city block: less so when a ship is moving
against a background of city blocks! A steady stream of tugs silently pushed their loads,
east or westbound, throughout the night. I was also caught off guard by a buoy that sud-
denly switched from blinking red to green - until I realized it was a traffic light in a Long
Island suburb. At long last, the rising sun lit the first of New York City's bridges. Namani
was spot on schedule at infamous Hell Gate, which, I was relieved to discover, was a tame
beast indeed during its brief slack water slumber. When the tide is running, on the other
hand, this confluence point of two rivers is notorious for powerful, swirling currents. Slid-
ing through unharmed, we felt we had passed another test of our shakedown cruise: Pas-
sage Planning 101.