So day one was actually day two: WSW 14-20, later SSW. Departed Branford 1030, arrived Block Island 1900, 60 miles of hullspeed-plus sailing under spinnaker. GPS hit 11.25kts at one point. Tide was probably close to 3kts at that point, but still MOVING. Knotlog also flashed 11.5 during an extended surf later.
The flatbottomed dinghy makes an awful racket at that speed, so I send it out a few boatlengths.
Then day three up to Bristol. ENE 12-18, then NNE 20-25 later. Departed salt pond 0700, arrived Bristol 1900. The log says I parted 62 miles of water to beat that 33 miles against the tide. A long and fantastic day.
Rockpicking my way up the shoreline to hide from the tide gave me a nice close look at Whale Rock.
I fancy that the Mount Hope Bridge was all lit up just for me. Hard to steady the camera in those late day gusts.
But here we are... home in Bristol. Figment rolled out that door 50 years ago. Happy Birthday, boat.
The Bucket List is down by one.
Unfortunately, I needed ice and fuel, neither of which are available in Bristol harbor, so I rode the tide down to Melville, and once there I saw little reason to return to Bristol, so I continued down to Newport, where the harbormaster (naturally) berthed me with all the other hot old boats.
In addition to the two Tritons berthed in Bristol, I encountered number 575 working his way north just above the Newport bridge. Nice to be among family.
NOAA forecasts were painting a bleak picture for my return trip later in the week, so rather than continue on to buzzard's bay I decided to begin working westward sooner than later.
Day five saw SE 15-20 building to SW 20-25 gusting 30+. Departed Newport 0900, arrived Fishers Island 1600. Thankfully, I was able to lay Point Judith with ease before the breeze clocked around, so the whole day was spent moving fast on port tack with reefed main and 80% jib.
The prediction was for a southerly, so I had expected to take a while to reach PJ, then tuck in there for the night, but I just couldn't bring myself to stop sailing at 1100 when Fishers was in easy reach.
This was brilliant, until those 30+knot gusts started arriving while I was still a few miles east of Watch Hill. Then rain. I, and a 34'ish benehuntalina that had been shadowing me all day, were delighted to find the lee of Fishers Island. Why that benehuntalina decided to anchor in East Harbor (not much land there to shelter from breeze) instead of continuing on the few miles with me to West Harbor, I have no idea. They were in for a loooong night.
Once moored in west harbor, I was fortunate enough to be collected by some friends who had spotted me rounding clay point in a squall. A hot shower, a few $3 pints ("until the beer is gone", the Pequot closes for the winter this week), and a dry bed for the night. Just the thing.
Day six was light. SW 5-10-0 Departed FI 0900, arrived Coecles Harbor 1500. The flood tide through the race made enough apparent wind to make that part of the passage comfortable. While trying to lay Gull Island this guy popped up and got in the way.
Snarky. I was trying to get southwest, they were trying to get northeast, and MAN they are moving a lot faster than they seem. A bit embarrassing to have to be hailed by the navy to be asked to get the heck out of the way, but I sure as heck was not about to make any sudden moves without their prior approval.
After clearing the race and entering Gardiners Bay, I didn't see another boat the whole day. Gotta love the off-season. Coecles harbor is a gem. Despite the fact that it was an off-season ghost town, there was plenty of "boat porn" to be seen. I guess they only let the pretty boats stick around past labor day.
Now NOAA was really starting to piss me off. The prediction was for SE 20-25 gusting 35 to begin overnight, and build to 30-35 gusting 45 as the day wore on, then become NW 20-25 as the remnants of tropical storm Nicole passed, gale warnings all the while, etc. Weathering the first part was no big deal. Plenty of nice harbors around Shelter Island, but then working home against that big northwesterly was going to SUCK.
Thankfully, as day seven dawned, that big southeasterly was only just getting going. Snap-decision, up-anchor and go 0700. Across Gardiner's and through Plum Gut in less than an hour, then moved west into the lee of the north fork of Long Island. The SE 20 was on and building, but keeping to the flat water kept things casual. Then came time to bear away and cross to Duck Island. Surfing is fun. A few catboat-gybes later I managed to tuck into the lee of Duck at 1100 just as the seas were reaching that 4-6' stage that gets ugly in the shallow water along the Connecticut shore.
There isn't much "island" at Duck Island. It has a pair of stone jetties which handled the seas for me, but the island itself is only about an acre above the waterline, so really no shelter at all from the gale winds. I set a nice anchor with about a 10:1 scope, then NOAA started predicting a westerly phase overnight before the northerly filled in, so I set another to the west as well.
The boat rode VERY nicely with the load on spread anchors, but WOW they were tough to break when the time came. The time did come, though.
The southerly calmed to 10-15 around noon of day eight. I needed no further encouragement. Duck is NOT the place to be in a northerly. Things got interesting when that S 10-15 went W 5-10 then N20-25 in the span of twelve minutes, but I find it hard to complain when the GPS shows 6s and 7s. Departed Duck 1230, arrived Branford 1600. Singlehanded conservatism inspired me to drop sails and motor about a half mile earlier than I habitually do, but this was a mistake. That last half mile was dead into the wind, and happened to be during a phase of 30kt gusts, so of course it took FOREVER to actually work into the river. Always go with your instincts.... the boat is sailing well, sail it right to the dock!
250 miles, 45 helm hours, 6 gallons fuel, 9 pots of coffee. Every sail on the boat flew at least twice.
So endeth the Birthday Homecoming Cruise of 2010.
