Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Goodbye, New York
After three days of buzzing city impressions, it was something of a relief to depart. The
main hazards on the way to the Verrazano Narrows were barges moored smack in the
middle of New York harbor. From the foam at their bows, I could have sworn they were
making way, but it was only the three-knot Hudson current at work. The Statue of Liberty
raised her torch in farewell as New York gradually slid out of view. Another remarkable
port was behind us, and we looked forward to quieter landfalls from that point forward -
and quieter water, after being thoroughly shaken and stirred by the wind-against-tide com-
bination in the Ambrose Channel.
After the superlatives of the preceding weeks, we weren't too impressed by New Jersey's
low-lying coast and sprawling settlements. More interesting was the combination of coastal
sailing and Atlantic waters: the open ocean to port, land to starboard. Buoys moaned,
gonged, and whistled in succession as we broke through the line of 40° north at last. A
series of heavy squalls struck in the early morning, accelerating moderate winds into a
series of short-lived roars and making the term “shakedown” a literal expression. Each such
episode, however wet and intense, had the positive effect of making us feel ever more
ready for the long passages we had planned for later in the season.
Cape May earned New Jersey many bonus points with its beautifully detailed Victorian
houses and nearly deserted beach. These captured our attention while we waited for favor-
able conditions to enter potentially bumpy Delaware Bay. Well, we didn't exactly wait:
Markus installed the new stereo - mainly to give us the pleasure of listening to music while
completing future projects. Meanwhile, we observed the ebb and flow of boaters arriving,
resting, and departing the anchorage, one batch after another, all intent on reaching warmer
climes.
Finally, Namani took a shortcut through the Cape May Canal to the Delaware Bay, slipping
through without incident despite her six-foot draft. Once again, we had our timing right:
our current-enhanced speed rose while seas diminished and we flew up the Delaware Bay
at up to nine knots over ground (until, that is, a trimaran passed and showed us the meaning
of “flying”). Forty miles from Cape May, we furled the sails and entered the sheltered,
fourteen-mile-long Chesapeake and Delaware Canal.
Resting at anchor in Chesapeake City's tight basin that night, we felt tired but excited to
have reached another milestone: the Chesapeake Bay, a sheltered expanse over 150 miles
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