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Friendships New and OldAntigua to Newport

Steven Anderson

It is often said that sailing to a timetable is sure to catch you out sooner or later, but it seems to be an inevitable feature of our cruising. Gem has been itinerant since 2012, we leave her in different ports after each trip. Her latest mooring of seven weeks being on the dock of a friend, Eve, in Jolly Harbour, Antigua where we had left her following an earlier cruise up from Trinidad in February.

Eve had been introduced to us the previous year by my predecessor at the RORC when Gem had competed in the last of her three offshore races, the RORC Caribbean 600, and we needed to leave her in Antigua for a while. Eve may be known to some members as she was previously a port officer for the OCC when she christened her dock the ‘Hummingbird Yacht Club’.

So this was Gem’s second spell in Jolly Harbour in two years and there was a pleasurable familiarity as we arrived back at the Hummingbird Yacht Club. We were a crew of three, my wife, Jane, friend Mike Griffiths (RCC) and myself. The plan was for Mike’s wife, Alison, to join us in the US after our passage to the east coast.

Jolly Harbour lived up to its name and we had a very

Gemervescence50’ Cutter

Antigua

Norfolk

Annapolis

New York

NewportUSA

North AtlANtic

oceAN

75W 65W

35N

25N

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jolly 36 hours preparing the boat, fitting a new autopilot brain and enjoying the convivial company and hospitality of Eve, her friends and family. I busied myself with the autopilot and any other technical jobs I could find as Jane and Mike dived Gem, removing boat stopping crustaceans and fouling from the bottom; although launched only 11 weeks earlier the growth was heavy in the warm, soup-like water of Jolly Harbour. We almost regretted not taking the proffered TBT antifouling in Trinidad.

Gem was ready, provisioned, watered and fueled. We went through the ritual of clearing out, slightly easier in Jolly Harbour than Falmouth Harbour, stowed the dinghy and slipped our lines waving our goodbyes. Motoring gently out of the harbour I pushed the auto pilot button and was pleased that the new controller worked perfectly leaving us only to do a quick calibration, hoist the main and set our course for Norfolk, Virginia and the Chesapeake 1,400nm away at about 330°T. It was 18 April and the GRIBs promised 15-20kts on the beam for as far out as the forecast went: Caribbean

sailing at its best.Offshore and to windward

of us Alex Thompson’s IMOCA Hugo Boss was heading NW. She had been repaired by his team in Falmouth Harbour following his collision with Guadeloupe in the Route de Rhum. The grounding cost him the race and his first significant win which had seemed all but assured. The boat though was already the ‘old boat’, as a

new, foiling design was on order. Perhaps this included some state-of-the-art alarm clocks for the sleep-deprived skipper; as someone who struggles to keep sleep at bay on long night watches I‘d had great sympathy for Alex on that race.

We settled down to sailing Gem, powering along under the 135% genoa and full main, agreeing a very relaxed watch schedule, flicking on the autopilot for six o’clock, mild cocktails and supper together in the cockpit. Progress was good, but

Jane and Mike on passage

Sunset at sea

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by the morning the autopilot was playing up exhibiting a number of problems with the controller and brain intermittently dropping out. I spent most of the day, in the steady reaching conditions, plugging and replugging cables, substituting spare cable, testing each unit independently, emailing with step daughter, Nikki, for B&G expertise and eventually concluding that we had more than one problem with a voltage drop in the power supply I could not fix at sea and probably a dead ram, which was already the spare.

The demise of our autopilot meant a slightly less benign watch schedule, but we agreed on a very satisfactory two-on, four-off overnight rotation. This worked well for us although the way Gem is set up it meant being stuck at the helm for the on watch and adjusting sails etc at change of watch; fortunately no one needed to resort to the whistle to summon an extra pair of hands. Mike made sure that our intake of tea and coffee did not fall below acceptable levels.

We enjoyed fine weather, beautiful sunrises and sunsets and avoided patches of sargasso weed - less than we had seen south and east of the islands. Other than a multitude of flying fish there was little sea life until one morning I saw waterspouts on the horizon. I checked the weather but nothing to suggest waterspouts and no ominous clouds. At change of watch with Mike a whale breached close by. We could still smell it in the air as Jane rushed on deck for the call of ‘whale’ but she had missed it and we saw nothing else for the rest of the passage. I realised in retrospect that whale spouts are distinctive and obvious. . . ‘There she blows!’

We continued to enjoy great sailing as we progressed north. Our ambition to sail up the Chesapeake meant weathering Cape Hatterass with its rather fearsome reputation. It’s a significant cape and it is at the boundary of the Gulf Stream. The cape pushes the Gulf Stream offshore and forces it into an almost 90° turn. The weather forecast was deteriorating and at our speed we were going to run into some strong winds and therefore likely some significant sea state as we crossed the Gulf Stream into Norfolk. Slowing down was not going to help much and heaving to did not seem necessary as the wind forecast was strong, but not extreme. We had all had plenty of rest and the ultimate landfall was not too far; the nearest lee shore was Greenland.

The wind started to build, the second reef proved difficult as a lazy jack line

Building breeze

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I had taken back to the mast jammed in a batten car. The wind continued to build and the sea state increase, rain came and spume started to blow off the waves. Gem takes all this in her stride and we went happily into the night knowing the conditions would abate in a few hours. In the pitch black of the moonless night a ship was on a steady bearing some way away, she seemed to be on an erratic course but we could not establish communication in the conditions and with the incomprehensible English of what we now thought was a Chinese vessel. At that point we lost the mainsheet, a pin securing the spliced end of the sheet to the becket of the first block sheered or worked its way out. The main was out to the shrouds (we have pretty much in line spreaders). We then had little option but to go dead downwind, surfing on the waves to avoid the mystery ship. Jane came on deck and took over the helm while Mike and I jury rigged the mainsheet and pulled in the third reef, remarkably easy once the lazy jack broke, even going downwind.

All recovered, we headed back up to about 80° TWA, cleared the back of the ship and continued on our way. By morning the wind had dropped to a light breeze

Chesapeake Bay Bridge

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Taunton

Newport

Block Islong is Snd

New York

Cape May

c&D canal

Annapolis

chesapeake B

Delaware B

Norfolk

Narragansett

74W 72W

38N

40N

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and veered onto the nose. The instruments recorded sustained winds overnight of 60kts and a maximum SOG of 22 kts. Manoeuvering to avoid the ship had set us some way N at those speeds and we had another night at sea before making it into Norfolk the following morning. Gem had handled well, we gave ourselves a pat on the back for sorting out the problems, a ticking off for not sorting out the third reef earlier, waited for customs to clear us in and went for more than one well-earned beer.

Norfolk is home to the largest naval base in the world. It takes a long time to steam past the docks up to the city. Huge aircraft carriers lie alongside massive docks, some in refit, and every other size of vessel that could be imagined is there. Mike is a recently retired military officer and advised us that the largest carriers have in recent times been named after US presidents; was it therefore inevitable we would see a USS Donald Trump in due course? Not a suggestion well received in New York later in our trip.

We were beginning to feel at home, the locals spoke English, more or less, we had berthed in a marina in Portsmouth, on the opposite side of the river to Norfolk, and we noticed from the map one could have driven out of the city to Suffolk, Windsor and the Isle of Wight.

Aside from clearing in and getting our cruising permit there was little to keep us in Norfolk and Portsmouth. I wanted to explore the Chesapeake, or at least as much of it as our 2.5m draft would allow, and I thought Annapolis would be a good place to meet Alison when she flew in. We cast off for Sarah Creek on the York River a few miles north of Norfolk, which we could scrape in and out of with a little rise of tide. The leading marks were posts in the seabed which doubled as nesting sites for the local eagles; this was to be a common sight all the way up the Chesapeake. We anchored in the small enclosed harbour, relying on the Navionics chart symbols.

We had to feel our way carefully out of Sarah Creek and then pretty much stick to the central areas of the Chesapeake. It meant there was little to see close up and there was a light mist obscuring the shores. Progress was a mixture of sailing, motor-sailing and motoring in generally light winds as is typical there. The Chesapeake has some serious shipping, but as we commented there are few places as busy as the shipping lanes of the English Channel and it seemed relatively quiet. There were a handful of other yachts, but it was clearly early in the season.

The need to be in Annapolis meant that detours up the various rivers flowing

Annapolis

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into the Chesapeake were not possible, but we found an anchorage en-route for a spectacular sunset and quiet overnight stay. The following day we rounded Thomas Point Shoal Light, very much in the American vernacular, and Annapolis slowly opened up. Various calls on the VHF and mobile phone found that alongside berths were in short supply, however, on 1 May, this early in the season the City dock was available and as always in the US a very helpful young man took our lines.

While there is competition for the accolade, Annapolis regards itself as the epicenter of US sailing. It certainly has a fantastic position, great sailing waters and active fleets. Sitting in the cockpit for an evening cocktail - or was it a cup of tea - we watched the Wednesday evening race fleet finishing under spinnakers in the inner harbour; the bridge just past the finish line sharpening the crews’ speed with the drops. The city is home to both racing and cruising with the Chesapeake Bay on the doorstep. If you want to join in and visit the yacht club make sure you plan in advance. Like many US sailing clubs they are quite formal and require a letter of introduction. I was disorganised and there was no dinner on the yacht club terrace for us.

Alison had been organised and arrived the next day in a pre-booked hire car from the airport. She was a little disgruntled that the car she had booked had been ‘upgraded’ to a twin-cab pick-up. Now to my friends in the US the pickup has become a must-have vehicle, but this is not a view shared by a lady from the UK thinking she was coming to a civilised city and not an agricultural destination. However, it proved very useful in touring the out-of-town chandlers for rolls of pipe and other items needed for Gem and for some work put off in the Caribbean.

Annapolis was great fun and the four of us enjoyed meals out, a tour of the historic town and the Naval College before pressing on north for the Delaware River and New York. Alison’s arrival did not improve the light and unfavourable winds. On the leg from Annapolis more hours were spent motoring than sailing.

Our route took us up to the northern end of the Chesapeake, through the C&D Canal (Chesapeake & Delaware) and down the Delaware River to Cape May. Leaving Annapolis, we skirted round a championship race fleet and went under our first of many bridges. I know that Gem’s air draft is 21m, I know that the Chesapeake Bay Bridge has a least clearance of 55m, I know that the tidal rise and fall is less than 1m, nevertheless it is obvious from on deck, going under any bridge, that the mast is going to hit the bridge. After a few open

Cape May

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ocean miles this illusion was all the stronger.

As the Chesapeake narrowed we could see more of the waterside and the many affluent properties that lined the shore. The Chesapeake, and the coast of Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts and Maine are much indented with rivers and

inlets providing a huge amount of sheltered waterside that has been fully taken advantage of by some spectacular properties. We guessed that there must also be prodigious quantities of industrial strength bug killer to keep the biting insects at bay. Mike and I seemed to be particular targets and our skills with a deftly wielded flip-flop became well-honed.

It seemed a long trip down the Delaware River and we missed the tide as we dodged around the extensive shoals off Cape May point. We did pick up some breeze although it was not enough to get us into the harbour before dark. It was getting colder as we went north and away from the Gulf Stream, particularly at night. Mike’s Green Bay Packers hat came out; the Packers are apparently an American football team of which Mike has a comprehensive knowledge.

By the time we arrived at Cape May harbour there was a sea running off the canalised entrance and no moon. GPS and radar are wonderful things and instead of being a tricky entrance all was straightforward. Negotiating the confines of the marina at the far end of the harbour beyond a fishing fleet, however, seemed a step too far. Did I mention the developing gear box problem? We dropped the anchor just inside the harbour entrance making our way into the marina the following day once the weather improved.

Cape May is a resort town and makes for a pleasant stop in itself, but it is also home to something of an institution a few minutes walk from the marina. Along the main fish quay is the Lobster House restaurant, a bustling seafood place that belies its setting. The martini cocktails were a great start and the food magnificent

Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge

Statue of Liberty

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in both quality and quantity with a doggy bag to keep us going for days.The next leg of our voyage was up the coast and into New York Harbour and

Manhattan. It was intended to be the highlight of the season and particularly special for me as I had long standing connections with the city. The plan was to arrive in the morning, so with 120nm to run we had another night at sea. Again there was a light and changeable breeze, but we were able to see the lights of Atlantic City slide by as we made reasonable speed using the engine extensively.

I was conscious that we were putting rather more miles under the keel than Alsion may have signed on for, but the pain of the engine was worthwhile when we saw New York in front of us at dawn. Another bridge moment as we motored under the Verrazzano-Narrrows Bridge, clearance 69.4m, and New York harbour began to open up. Successfully avoiding the Staten Island ferries and on up the Hudson River the views of the Statue of Liberty, Jersey City and of course Manhattan were spectacular. Despite much advice to the contrary I was determined to berth on Manhattan. There is a marina down near the One World Trade Center, but the aim was to get closer to Broadway. There were few boats around and we took a berth at Chelsea Piers at about 21st Street. Despite no facilities, very bouncy while the river traffic was running, all but empty aside from one super yacht and very expensive, it still ticked a box for me. To testify to the discomfort of the wake of the river traffic, a long-time, non-sailing friend joined us on board for evening cocktails, but we

Manhattan skyline

Goodbye New York

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soon had to leave for dinner before he got seasick.

New York was a special pleasure, visiting old friends, seeing a show and enjoying the city. I did get roped into a bit of work, but it felt slightly disconnected stepping back into a world I had been a part of for a long time. We had many conversations about the insanity of politics on both sides of the Atlantic, the Americans spectating on the debacle of Brexit in the UK, whilst, in liberal Manhattan, despairing of their own leadership.

Two nights in the City that never sleeps were enough, onwards we had to go in order to get to an event in Newport RI on 11 May. The tides worked nicely to enable us to leave via the East River taking in amazing views of the city from both sides and then east past Rikers Island, the infamous jail whose closure has just been announced, and up into Long Island Sound for much motor-sailing again. The challenges of our timetable meant missing out some harbours on the Connecticut shore we would have liked to

visit. By the time we passed out of the northern end of Long Island Sound, inside of Block Island, there was a significant sea running, fortunately with breeze to go with it, north-easterly of course. At this point the sea temperature read 10°C and it felt cold after starting out from Antigua with a sea temperature of 28°C. Once we were able to tack, things became more comfortable and we were gradually freed

up to sail into Narragansett Bay and around into Newport.Anchoring in Newport is possible, but there is little space remaining, moorings

can also be in short supply while alongside berths are at a considerable premium. Fortunately the very welcoming Ida Lewis Yacht Club was able to offer one of their moorings in exactly the right place. Ida Lewis has a charming position at the end of its own long jetty out into the harbour. Next door, imposing on raised ground, is

Steven and Jane

Mike and Alison

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the summer home of the New York Yacht Club, Harbour Court. Our crew of four enjoyed dinner at the NYYC overlooking the harbour and Gem on her mooring.

We made our event on 11 May, which was gloriously warm and sunny, but the fine weather of Saturday deteriorated overnight. Heading further up the Bay we spent a damp and chilly night at anchor playing cards and reading as the rain came down. We were coming towards the end of the time we had available as we needed to get Gem ashore before we left her for three months. Something out of the rain appealed and we took up a kind invitation to visit the Herreshoff Museum from its Director Bill Lynn. The museum has its own jetty which was part of the old boatyard. It’s a fascinating place with its obvious associations with the Americas Cup. It also has an interesting collection of wooden boats, workshops and outreach programmes.

The final leg of our cruise was up the Taunton River to Somerset where Gem was hauled for a few months. A less demanding schedule would have allowed more exploration of different places, but we felt we had gained an insight into what the

US north-east coast had to offer. We had spent a most enjoyable time with two old friends and been able to catch up with others in the US. A good time.

Gem at Harbor Court