Catboats Around Long Island – 2014 – IS COMPLETE!

Saturday evening, around Midnight, Lovinde eased alongside her dock at Holly Pond – fenders aside, dock lines at the ready ….and then ….. the trip had come full circle.

Monday afternoon, six days prior, “Catboats Around Long Island” had started with working down to City Island, and now, it was complete.

Here is a recap of the days, ports and mileages:

Day 1    25 miles - Home to City Island
Day 2    50 miles - City Island, thru New York Harbor to Freeport, LI
Day 3    30 miles - Freeport to Patchogue
Day 4    30 miles - Patchogue to Shinnecock Canal
Day 5    25 miles - Shinnecock Canal to Deering Harbor, Shelter Island
Day 6    65 miles - Deering Harbor to Home

The trip totaled 225 miles – that’s about 37 miles a day.   We had estimated a trip of 250 miles at 25 miles a day, for 10 days (the difference in the distance is accounted for a liberal allowance for the daily trips in and out of overnight harbors.  In fact, since there were fewer days, there was less ‘overhead.’).  The day through New York Harbor (50 miles) and then the final day homeward bound (65 miles) skewed the average – which was somewhat between 25 and 30 miles per day – a comfortable number.

The trip was a “bucket-list” project – something that Roger and I had always wanted to do.   When people asked “Why are you doing this?” – I tried to explain it, using terms of “the love of sailing,” “new ports,” “adventure,” “because it’s there,” – but often gave up in exasperation with:  “If you have to ask … you wouldn’t understand the answer.”   I know that is kind of shallow – but the real answer is:  I always wanted to sail around Long Island, because:   it’s there.   That’s that.

What a fine way to spend a few days – Roger and I were always in radio contact, never more than a mile apart, and often within photo-range (see the PICTURES page on this blog).  In the evenings, over a good dinner, we had lots to talk about, and half the time we were in the company of friends – so it was nice to be flying solo during the day – but it was also nice to have good company at the end of the day.

The trip was a geography lesson about the south shore of Long Island – I had been fixated on Great South Bay – the open area between the coastal towns and the strip of barrier islands on the ocean.  Now, I understand that Hempstead Bay, to the West, is a quite significant resource for fish and wildlife – an area of wild beauty, check-marked by the mosaic of saltmarsh islands.   Initially I was queasy about “Swamp Thang” and the bugs … but after two days of passage – I admired the vast undeveloped habitat, sustained by the tidal pump of East Rockaway and Jones’ Inlets – the life-blood of the area.

Then the Great South Bay – followed by the canal system that brings you to Moriches Inlet, and finally Shinnecock.   I want to drive out there some time this winter and explore the long strips of barrier beaches that are accessible by the bascule (draw) bridges that we encountered.   There is a lot of scenery that is unavailable from the deck of our little boats – the parks, the inlets, and the shore-side communities perched on the barrier islands - - - - I saw many places that I would like to come back to, and explore when I have time.

As for the bridges – I believe that there were 15 bridges – some high-fixed bridges with vertical clearances of 40+ feet (our masts are 24’) – and the rest were operated by bridge tenders, who would all answer your call on VHF channel 13.   All were polite, responsive, and only one required a delay – and that was only about 5 minutes, while we circled, awaiting a break in the traffic.  The final series of bridges at Shinnecock – at 22’ – did require the masts to be pulled – a loss of a couple of hours of effort – but what had to be done – was done – and that was that.  (See the PICTURES page for some views of the masts down on deck).

And now – the sailing.  First of all – there was a fair amount of motoring, so the interludes when we did sail – were a delight, a respite, a welcome relief.  The motoring was not onerous – it was reasonable and appropriate to have good control in HellGate and New York Harbor, the saltmarsh channels, and the final dash for home.  But the other times:  were glorious.   Running across Great South Bay to Patchogue, reaching across Great Peconic Bay to Cutchogue, beating close hauled up Little Peconic Bay towards Deering.   These were ‘quality times’ to be cherished, nourished, and filed in the good-memory bank, where they can rattle around with the other ‘good-times.’

Would I do it again – yes, in a heart-beat.  But I would first consider some other Catboat adventure – I like the boat, I like the experience, I like the portability and sociability of the whole thing.  That’s why the Catboat is such a successful class – whey the Annual Meeting of the Catboat Association is such a hoot:  people love these boats, for good reason.

OK – that’s about it for my friends who might have looked on this trip a bit skeptically – I hope I have answered your questions about all this – and that you now know the difference between a Catboat and a Catamaran (think: Hobie-Cat!).  I look forward to answering your questions – and hope that you catch some of my enthusiasm for all this.   

Signing off for    Catboats Around Long Island 2014  - - - - - Catboats Forever!!!

= = =

And now, for the sailors and cruisers on the line – here is a short appendix that may be of some interest:

ANCHORS  I have a “lunch-hook” – and borrowed a “big” 25-pound Danforth for the trip, attaching my 150’ ½” line.   Good to have on board, and I grinned when I looked at it, and the space it took up under the back bench.  I can not imagine the circumstance when it would have been needed:  we were never more than a couple of miles from port, and never out in a storm.  Will I have a 25-pounder on my next trip – sure.  But check with me if I even think of using it.   Not likely.

RADIOS  Two hand-held in the cockpit:  one on 72 for talking with OWL, and one on 13 for traffic with the bridge-tenders.   To have one, and having to swap back and forth, would have been a pain.  The fixed-mount radio with the DSC (& MMSI) was powered by a motor-cycle battery, both packed in a yellow plastic work-box from Home Depot.  The emergency antenna was so small; it too fit within the work-box.  I am toying with the idea of making a bracket for a 3’ antenna that will fit in the stern flag-pole socket … but…. Offset so that the main boom will not sweep it away.  Handy for improving reception on those long days where there is nothing better to do.

GPS.  I am still enamored of the tiny Garmin GPS III that I have had for years (Charlie Stone/Sam Bridges’ trips on the Concordia to Maine) – I lost it around the house, bought the big Garmin 640 to replace it, and then, hurrah, I found it again.  Great for putting in a quick waypoint for reference, and then, on one display, seeing:  speed, course to mark, course over ground, distance to mark (and a lot of other stuff on alternate displays).   The 640 just does not cut it in the open cockpit – the display is not powerful enough to see from any distance, I have to hold it under my nose to read it – and its battery power seems to be about two hours, max.   After the two hours it will run off of the motorcycle battery in the yellow box …. But that’s no way to live.  John Stumpf got rid of his 640 and now I can see why.  Even if I get a replacement for the 640, I’m still going to get a low-end small GPS and just keep it on, all the time, in the companionway – as an overall trip-computer – it will serve as a back-up, sure, but it will serve the purpose.

SAIL  Both Roger and I took our regular “rendezvous” sails off for the trip, and substituted older sails that could stand the flogging about that the trip promised.  It was a good move – as sail covers were not always applied when we stopped, and yes, there was a certain amount of flogging while under power.

FUEL   Lovinde carried six 3-gallon tanks (each in a plastic tub to guard against spills), Owl carried two 6-gallon tanks and one 3-gallon tank.  While it appeared that Lovinde was running ‘rich’ – i.e. using more fuel than Owl, it did not seem to matter, as the 65-mile sprint on the final day used only five of the six tanks on board – i.e. I finished with one tank to spare, and that was very satisfying.   However, for another similar adventure, I might ditch the 3-gallon tanks in favor of the 6-gallon style, provided I can find an appropriate small “wheelie” to move the twice-as-heavy tanks over the parking lots and docks we encounter along the way.

ENGINE  I will seek out a replacement for my bent-up prop, and hopefully find yet another one as a spare.  Good to have on board.   

WHAT ELSE?  That’s about it …. If I think of something else – I’ll add it here.  If you have a question, let me know and put the answer up here as well.    Best regards – Frank

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Day 6: Shelter Island to Home – 65 miles – no problem! (If the current is with you)

Saturday morning we were off the moorings at Deering Harbor’s Shelter Island Yacht Club at 6:30am – and on out to the trip along Long Beach to Orient Point.   

Ed Bausman’s suggestion worked perfectly – in fact we have a picture to prove his point – over in the PICTURES page of this blog.

Ed has noted that the “typical” boater in our situation would travel up to Orient Point, spy the lighthouse, and then use it as a turning point to pivot into the Sound.  Not good.  They get beat up in the tumult in the gut, and are not happy.   Rather, he suggested, stay clear of the gut, point to the NorthEast to head towards, and get close to, Plum Island, and THEN turn NorthWest to travel along the coast-line, as close as prudent, until clear of the confused water in the gut.   This system worked very well for us.   

Sure, the water was roiling and confused where we were, but it was worse “over there” to our port-side and further out towards the center of the channel.  High speed within the gut?  About 9 knots on the GPS.   And then for the next half hour or so, a steady 7.5 to 8 – and for the next several hours:  6 to 7.   We were moving right along.

I think that we had made a subconscious decision to go for the “home-run” for the day – but this sustained boost of favorable current sealed the deal.  Now, we were:  “Homeward Bound.”

There is another secret to coming into the Sound via Plum Gut, rather than the Race or Fishers Island Sound:  it’s closer to home!  Roughly speaking, Plum Gut is South of Saybrook, the Race is South of New London and if you are coming out of Fishers Island Sound you are barely past Mystic before it opens up.

More specifically, Plum Gut is “only” 56 miles from Greens Ledge Light (on a course of 275m).  Add another 9 miles to the Gut from Deering – and there you have it:  a 65-mile day.   (By the way, in contrast, Race Rock is 64 miles from GLL)

What do you do, then, for the next eight hours, on the long ride home?   Beats me.  I don’t know where the time went – I knew it was going to be a long ride – I knew it was going to be boring – I knew that the wind would eventually come up in the late afternoon (it always does) – and the time went by.   Roger and I had a deal that – we would check in with each other ‘on the hour.’  The conversation would go like this:  “Owl, this is Lovinde.”  “Owl here.”   “Owl – this hour we averaged 5.5 knots, we have 26 miles to go, and our ETA is still 6:30pm.”  “Very good, steady as you go, talk to you in an hour.  Standing by on 72.” “Roger, Roger: standing by on 72.”   And then the new hour would start.

What do you do for the hour?  Turn the VHF on to scan all stations – listen in on a race committee looking for enough air to start their race (Boy, did they need a Sam Bridges on their signal boat – Sam would have secured proper reports from the Mark and Pin boats – shortened the course and got a few races on the books, in just the time they dithered around).  Drag the anchor line behind, so as to unkink it.  Vary the diet:  one hour for Chips Ahoy, one hour for Fig Newton’s.  Charge the cell phone off of the spare 12-volt motorcycle battery.  Do a calculation as to gas consumption and figure out what the margin would be in fuel.  (Yes, I used five of the six 3-gallon tanks in the run, and had one 3-gallon tank to spare on arrival at home).  Call radio checks on the Sea-Tow automated answer-back system.   

Well – that used up about 55 minutes – during the next 5 minutes, gather, and log, the statistics for the next cryptic hourly check in with Roger:    average speed, distance to go, ETA.  And then the next hour begins.

Look, it was a long trip – right down the center of the Sound.   But it made the Sound “ours” – i.e. from end to end  (end to Home) – we ‘owned’ it today.  The day went by – the miles went by – and it was good.

About Branford, however, the flood current gave out – and the ebb started – and then the hours got longer.  But a breeze came up:  a little sailing, a little motor-sailing, then a little sailing.   None the less - it took an age to get by New Haven, and then, Bridgeport was a real problem:  it is big.  You start seeing Bridgeport’s features long before you are South of them …. And then when you think you are past the mouth of the harbor – the ferry crosses waaaaay in front of you ….you are not done with Bridgeport yet.

Then the local landmarks start to appear – Penfield Light falls behind you, and then the fine stretch along Fairfield, Southport, Sherwood Island – leads to Cockenoe and the Norwalk Islands:  HOME.

Arriving about 6:30pm – I was early for the Midnight high tide that could get me into Holly Pond – so I diverted to SoNo Seafood’s ‘dock and dine’ and had a pleasant interlude with PJ and Peter.  Roger went home to the FiveMile River, and crashed at home, taking a pass on one more lobster dinner.  After supper, Peter and I brought Lovinde from SoNo around to Noroton YC, where PJ picked him up.

Then, it was soon time to cross the dam at Holly Pond, and a beautiful moon-lit approach to the dock at home – quite a satisfying end to a satisfying 6-day voyage AROUND LONG ISLAND.

My co-conspirator in this trip?     Lovinde.   The boat is sound.   The boat takes care of me.  Remember the double-reef episode on Day 1? Fine.  Remember the grounding on one of Great South Bay’s mud flats?  (Of course you don’t, ‘cause I didn’t write about that one – editorial control, y’know.)   

The boat is a ‘work-boat’ – that is – a lot of work would bring it up to the brilliant standard that Roger sets for his OWL – what a beautiful boat she is.   But Lovinde is my pal – she is a good trustee, a guardian, a play-pal who gets me there – safely – and with oh, so much joy and good cheer.

The other co-conspirator?   Roger Klein – who had this trip on his ‘bucket list’ too.    I haven’t talked to him about this – but I have to say – this trip – or another one like it ….. is STILL on my bucket list ….this event does not get ‘scratched off the list’ the way Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson scratched off their ‘to-do’ list.  No … this type of a trip is a ‘keeper,’ – I’ll do it again in a heartbeat, ……or two.

Signing off for now –  Frank

        On behalf of Roger Klein and Frank Kemp’s splendid adventure: 

                  Catboats Around Long Island 2014 - - - - - - Catboats Forever!

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PRELIMINARY - Day 6: HOME! Safe and Sound Saturday Evening - All is Well

Friends - this is being written from HOME - I just walked up from the dock - and turned on the lights here at the house.

Roger is safe and sound as well - over in Rowayton.

I will post a more complete listing tomorrow, after a good night's sleep, and after picking up Fitz and England from their "summer camp" at Puppy Grandparents in Stamford.

But it was a classic, classic day - a long one, yes, but an epic voyage from Deering Harbor, through Plum Gut - and then DIRECT to home.   The start of the day was about 6:30 am - the crossing of the Gut was about 8:30 - and then some looooooong hours on a bearing directly for home.

The rhumb line from the gut to Greens Ledge Light is 275m - and we were on it all day long.   The prior consideration of stopping over at an interim harbor was quickly abandoned when we saw what a boost the flood tide was giving us from the Plum Gut and the Race.  We slowed down around New Haven and Bridgeport - the flood tide was spent about Noon - and in the afternoon we had dismal 4kt progress.  But all in all, we arrived in the neighborhood about 7:00pm.

7:00pm was too early to get over the Holly Pond Dam - so I diverted to SoNo Seafood - 'dock and dine' and had a pleasant interlude with PJ and Peter - and then just now - brought Lovinde into the Pond and HOME!

OK - that's the day in a nutshell .... tomorrow I'll have some statistics and a wrap-up of the trip - but for now - a very good conclusion to the CIRCUMNAVIGATION OF LONG ISLAND VIA CATBOATS!

Catboats Forever!!!         Best all - Frank Kemp and Roger Klein
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Day 5 – From Shinnecock to Deering Harbor – Sailing with no “GOTO” in the GPS

Well folks, eat your heart out:  sitting on the breezy porch of the Shelter Island Yacht Club, at Deering Harbor, across from Greenport.  Spent the day under sail – starting out with one reef in, on departure from the Great Peconic Bay side of the Shinnecock Canal.

Wind? Plenty of it, on the nose, of course.  But a long tack took us across to Mattituck on the North Fork (yes, the same town as the port on Long Island Sound, but there is no canal or cut-through – this is just the other side of the same North Fork town), where the breeze filled to allow approach to Robins Island.  Tacked North along the island and into Cutchogue harbor for a look.  Peaceful, quiet, beautiful: no muscle boats, no jet skis (well, maybe one).  Then without the reef, what a relief, South along Little Hog Neck and round the point and tacked over to the South Fork (West of Sag Harbor), and then North along Jessup Neck for the exit from Great Peconic Bay.  Then, just a few miles counter-clockwise around Shelter Island to Deering Harbor – where the Shelter Island Yacht Club provided our mooring (and dinner) for the evening. 

We did a ‘fly-by’ of the club’s mooring field, admiring the assembled yachts, and were accompanied by a pleasant couple sailing a beautiful blue hulled Hereshoff 12.5.   They waved, and seemed to appreciate the company of our two catboats.

Well, sitting here now, composing this note, I feel that the rest of this day is going to go quickly, as we are signed up for an early dinner on the deck, and on my part, a welcome return to the sleeping bag on Lovinde – the first evening of the trip on a mooring, and I am looking forward to the change.

Whoop: Captain Henry Marx (Landfall Navigation, Stamford) just walked by …. he had been teaching a seminar here on boating safety, fire extinguishers, etc. with the cooperation of the local marine fire departments …. He was tired and wanted to get home to Stamford.  He turned down an offer of supper,  and even a glass of lemonade.  Pure Henry.  But he did smile at seeing a local.

OK, then, tomorrow - through Plum Gut on its Flood (starts at 5am – we won’t make that – but we will be on its down-tick and end – and then try to be as far away before the Ebb starts.   We are talking about Mattituck, or a CT harbor – as Roger has to leave Owl for a day or so while he takes care of obligations, and then he will return to pick it up during the week.  I will do the return to Darien solo – either from Mattituck or the undisclosed CT port – to arrive in Darien …. Well …. Sometime Monday or Tuesday, depending on the weather and the routing.

OK, now for the inner game of sailing.   Today was classic:  clear, good winds, a pleasant port awaiting, and no navigation issues to deal with (i.e. no GPS waypoints) … just practical problems like:  get around this island, stay clear of that shoal, and come in as close to the shore as prudent on the short tacks.   Part of the fun today was tacking up along Jessup Neck, where starboard tack took you out into the white capped waves coming down the bay, while port tack took you back into the calmer waters where the wind was as strong, but the intervening sand-bar/groin prevented the waves from building up.  Just working the boat to windward – that’s what we do ... what we are really practicing in the round-the-buoys races … but in this case – this was for real:  getting up the bay and into the next adventure.

OK – dinner awaits – with a discussion as to the routing tomorrow - then the launch back to the boats, and a pleasant night on the mooring.

NOTE – just as I was finishing my lemonade, and getting ready for dinner – a couple came over to Roger and introduced themselves … they had recognized him from the harbor this afternoon.  Indeed, they were the couple who had handled the Hereshoff 12.5 so well – and accompanied us down the fairway.

In fact, there was a very good reason that they were interested in our Catboats – you see, Ed and Joy Bausman are the owners of “Emma” – a Marshall 18 – exactly the same as Lovinde and Owl. 

This afternoon they were out at the mouth of the harbor, enjoying the superior day in the Hereshoff 12.5 and noticed two Catboats approaching.  They deliberately circled around us and accompanied us into the harbor.  Residents of Shelter Island and members of the Club, they had come over this evening to seek us out and chat about Catboats.   They have been to many Catboat Annual Meetings and several rendezvous at Duck Island – Westbrook, CT.  A Catboat veteran of 15 years, Ed was able to provide some advice for getting a Catboat through Plum Gut.  With many things to talk over about Catboats, junior programs, club operations and the attraction of new members, the Bausmans asked us to join them for dinner, which we did.  What a delight – and at mid –dinner we were introduced to the real “Emma,” – their niece, for whom the Hereshoff 12.5 is named (she is working at the Club, awaiting the start of grad school).

By the time we parted, after desert and coffee, we were old friends, and pledged to rendezvous at the next Catboat Annual Meeting in January in Mystic.

OK – here ends a very good day – complex, yes,….but a good day – for all sorts of reasons, y’know?

Best – Frank

Day 4: Patchogue to Shinnecock – And Through The Canal!!!

Look, we are not running a speed-event, rallying, or otherwise trying to break records … but I am writing this at Shinnecock – on the Peconic Bay side of the bridges.  Yes, we made the transit – and that is part of the story.  This didn’t seem like a rushed day – it just moved along with a good start.

We left Patchogue in good time (7:30) and in the cool cloudy morning, before things began to cook, we “made tracks,” – or “made waves.”   At a steady pace we continued to the very end of Great South Bay and entered the narrows at Brookhaven and Shirley. where the channel leads to Moriches Inlet.

The tidal variances out here are not great:  2 to 3 feet.   But the current velocities are very apparent.  Case in point:  as we were leaving Great South Bay – the current was with us (tide coming in – we were going with it)  … but as we approached Moriches – the current was against us (same tide coming in – but through a different inlet … consequently it was now against us).  So we had crossed a “continental divide” of sorts – there must have been one place where the currents were not doing anything:  just slack.

In the vicinity of Moriches the terrain got wilder.  Remember when Sandy cut three new inlets in this area?  One is in the state wildlife area (still not repaired – they are studying whether to fix it or not).  The other two were on each side of the Moriches inlet.  The State of NY moved quickly to repair these breeches, lest they widen and become unstoppable.  As we motored along, glancing apprehensively at the ocean “just over there,” the boats that passed us were on their way out to the fantastic fishing grounds – 50, 60, 70 miles off-shore – the Hudson Canyon.  They may stay out there for 24 or 36 hours, 6 or 8 friends to a party, sharing costs, and the fun.

Continuing to the most narrow part of the channel – as it narrows to be a canal – at Westhampton and Quogue – where you get close-up views of the waterfront homes’ yards – and playtools  of the residents: jetskis and muscle boats.  Not many sail boats over here.

By 1:00 we were getting close to the Shinnecock Inlet, another case of the “plus or minus” factor of one knot of current.  Nearing Shinnecock there are a great number of summer homes out on the barrier beach, and again, more beautiful homes facing the bay.  Next winter I’d like to take the car out to these islands, and see the structures first-hand.

Once up in Shinnecock, we explored the idea of measuring the mast against the railroad bridge (the middle, and the most problematic of the three low bridges out here).  The current was against us, which was good, as it provided a slowing and steadying force …. As Roger eased up to the bridge.  I stayed back, on radio, to offer any prediction as to whether it looked good or not.   No good – by about two feet.  Roger backed off, turned, and we conferred about our options. The next low tide would be around Midnight  - and even then, with the low tidal ranges out here – it still might now work, so we decided to go back to “Plan A” – which was to take the masts down.

At a nearby dock, Owl’s mast, on a hinge, came down without much trouble – it was designed to do this.   Lovinde, on the other hand, presented a challenge of disconnecting all lines and booms that encountered the  mast …. so that the mast could be raised and then put-down horizontally on deck.  There is a picture of all this in the Gallery – not a dramatic picture, mind you, since when Roger was on the crank of the crane, and I was steadying the mast, who was there to take the picture?  However, you can see a picture of the bridge, and the crane, taken this February when Roger reconnoitered the area.

Anyway, by dinner-time, the boats were all together again, the afternoon was well spent, and we settled down in the state-run  marina on the east side of the exit of the canal.  A walk through the parking lot brings dinner at the adjacent snack bar looking out over The Great Peconic Bay – a fine end to a fine day.

So, after just a few days now, we have “turned the corner” on the trip: the transit of the canal really means that we are on the return leg.  Again, if we were racing or trying to set a record, we would head for Plum Gut right now.  But that is not the case – we are sight-seeing and harbor-hopping, and enjoying the process.

Tomorrow?  An easy day, with a predicted destination of the Shelter Island Yacht Club’s moorings in Deering Harbor, just opposite Greenport.  Again, that’s the plan, not the schedule!

Best to all – Frank & Roger – Thursday 7/10/14

Day 3 – Freeport to Patchogue

Well, this is what we came for:  good cruising in totally unknown waters, exploring new harbors, visiting friends, and generally taking it all in.

According to this criteria, or any criteria, this day was a success – here is why:

• An early start from Freeport, down through the tidal marshes, gave a fresh view to this extensive area of marsh, marsh grass, buoyed and documented access channels, undocumented channels for Lord knows what purposes, and a general quiet beauty of a mysterious land.  The early morning view of the area was far, far more interesting than yesterday evening’s dash for the marina.  This morning it was all very alive with birds, bugs, jumping fish, and LIFE.  It was beautiful, and the extensive island and channel arrangements continued for miles and miles until mid-day when we broke out of this terrain at the Robert Moses Bridge at the Fire Island Inlet.
• At Fire Island Inlet the Great South Bay opens up – about three or four miles wide – and you can do some sailing.  Still kept one reef in … the afternoons are still blustery, and there was no sense in fighting it or being overpowered.  Yes, there are shallow spots – but it is a thrill to come out from under one of the bascule (draw) bridges, and see miles of unobstructed seascape.
• At mid-day Roger and I split tacks, literally.   He headed North to see a PanAm pilot colleague in Babylon, and I made for Point O’Woods (POW) to have a sip of lemonade with Carol Guthrie and her son Charlie.  The landing at POW was a hoot – dodging Opti’s and 420’s out for their afternoon lessons and combat-round-the-hippity-hops.  A picture should be posted soon, over in the gallery – showing Carol and Charlie celebrating their award of the Catboat Hat.   (By the way – if you really feel you deserve a Catboat Hat – put in your application with Ground Control, and you will be on the list!  No promises – no favorites ….  After all, the Catboat skippers at a recent regatta had to buy-in to these very same hats … they are collectors items!)
• Leaving POW a fine, quiet (no engine) passage to Patchogue – and a chance, en-route, to think things over, how this trip makes me happy, and what being happy at this difficult time really means.  I’m working on it … I’m working on it …. Almost a year now, seems like yesterday, doesn’t it?
• It turns out that Roger did not make the trip up into Babylon, but arranged for his friend to come over to our marina and take us to dinner up in town.  A very good plan, well executed, and now all is well after a good sailing day.

Looking back on yesterday, the epic dash from City Island, the Bronx …. To Freeport, Long Island  … there were so many things right about the day – it was a record breaker.  The weather was perfect for the dash, the timing of the ‘Slack, high tide’ at Hell Gate was perfect, and the crews were more than agreeable.  A perfect day – and a classic one, for the NY scenery from sea-level, the large cargo ships that kept their distance, the high-speed commuter ferries that left no wake, the cooperating current (see the picture of the GPS in the gallery;   9.1 knots at the Battery …. No wonder we could not go back and have a do-over for Gabe and Enid, who were at the new Brooklyn park, south of the Bridge …. We were moving, and couldn’t go up-stream again, even if we had needed to).  So the day was a total classic, and if you could take little snippets out of the master tape, and played them a couple of times a day – you would not get tired of it.

Day 2 – New York Skyline – From Sea Level

This was the “big day” – and the weather was perfect – the trip through the harbor was without incident, the brief journey on the open ocean was uneventful, and the start of the waterway-treck along the barrier islands of Long Island – was rewarding.

The day started especially well through the efforts of PJ Adler and Jan Linskey – who had major roles in delivering their spouses, Peter Adler (a.k.a. “Ground Control”) and Pat Linskey, dockside at 5:45 – with coffee!  After a trip to top-off the fuel cans, we were on the way to transit the Throgs Nrck and Whitestone bridges, and pass through the infamous Hell Gate and down the East Side Drive.

There may be more info on all this later, but some lingering memories are:

• the lack of other river traffic at the early hour, which meant no wakes
• the joggers and onlookers who waved
• the boost from the current (that’s the whole idea!) for a high of 9 knots at one point
• the delight of seeing friends Enid & Gabe Ford at the new park below the Brooklyn Bridge – waving and taking pictures …. “It takes a village” that is so true – the beauty of going under the bridges – especially the Verrazano – it is really much larger than you would expect
• the “ominous” presence of the sea swells off of Coney Island and near the main shipping channel – these monsters were just ‘idling by’ … thank gosh that this was a good and calm day – otherwise it would have been miserable.
• the relief of getting in to the East Rockaway Inlet.  The relief was prompted by the 
• “CAAAROASH” of those benign ocean waves onto the rip-rap of the jetty as we entered the channel
• the run through the marshes south of our overnight location at Freeport – the winding channels make you think of  a scene from a thriller movie made in Louisiana – perhaps Swamp-Thang was made in Freeport after all
• the relief of having the excitement of this critical passage ‘over’ – now a new phase of this trip begins!