The first section, from Northeast Harbor to Cape Cod, was supposed to take 36 hours and it took 54. And they were 54 hard hours. The wind, which was predicted to be opposing us but light, was opposing us but heavy. We could only make 2 to 3 kn motoring into the wind so we sailed, considerably increasing our distance. On the second night of this, alarm started to go off. First the propane monitor sounded but we could find no trace of propane. Then the bilge alarm went off. If the propane alarm is like a bedside alarm clock, the bilge alarm is like a fire truck in your bedroom. Sure enough, the bilge was full of water. I grabbed the bilge handle to start pumping. My crew member, in a shining moment, found a loose wire behind the bilge pump switch, reconnected it, and suddenly the bilge was empty.
The alarm issue stems from preparation. There was a fury a recent activities in the three weeks before departure and things were wrapped up only the day before. I had the unrealistic expectation that I could show up at the boat Thursday night and leave Friday morning (which is bad luck anyway). My crew found the fuel gauge was not working which Morris did fix for us. I still had a list of stuff to do, but my crew pressured me to leave and reassured me that we could get the last few things done underway and I caved in even though I knew better.
It seems that the bilge was full of water because we did not get the hole sealed up where the anchor chain enters the boat. That had been on my list. The bilge alarm wire was probably knocked off when the mechanic was trying to get the fuel gauge working again. The propane alarm probably went off because of the humidity caused by the water in the bilge.
As we were approaching Cape Cod the weather router called and apologized for the missed forecast. I guess that stuff just happens.
We pulled into Sandwich, the town at the east end of the Cape Cod canal, at night, feeling a little like a Charlie Brown Christmas tree with our halyard and coil of rope twisted around our mast. I took my first-ever trip up the mast, though I only went halfway. The "24 hr fuel dock" was not open so we pressed on because the tidal current was going our way and you cannot go through the canal against the tide. We didn't want to wait 12 more hours for the next favorable tide. The weather router also told us that we were set up for following winds from Montauk to Cape May and we were eager for that opportunity.
We passed in the dark from the canal into Buzzards Bay. The outgoing tide and the opposing winds created some significant chop, but the books had warned me of that. My crew was not as comfortable with the chop. Several tense minutes later we hit a rock because after taking the helm from him I did not get a bearing of where we were and became confused. I also did not realize the the navigational canal continues long past the point at which we thought we exited the canal. It is a dredged canal marked by buoys and I steered the boat outside them.
I hit ground in the C & D canal because I guy said a bridge was closing and I stepped away to look at the map. I looked up and saw the shore just off the starboard side, lunged for the Autopilot "off" button and yanked the wheel just as we scraped. More lead gone, but I think my boat is tough enough for that. I will have her pulled in Norfolk for cleaning and that will give me a chance to make double sure and to have my lead divots filled.
Chesapeake Harbour Marina |