|
|
|
|
|
|
|
You are welcome to apply any part of this article to your own personal use. Please do NOT publish any part of the article or apply any part of it to any non-personal use without the express written concent of the author.
Our plan was to sail from Block Island to Cape May at the southern end of New Jersey, round that cape around 0500 and head up into the Delaware Bay on the flood tide. Our anchor spot was to have been close to the eastern terminus of the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, about fifty-five miles up the bay from Cape May. After resting for one night we were to have ridden the next tide up to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. As I've said before cruising plans are merely a point of reference, just like Mexican Law. We have to continually evaluate our plans in light of current circumstances and adjust as we deem appropriate in that moment.
First, the wind failed to cooperate. While it was from a favorable direction it was light to non-existent. So we had to use the iron stays'l. There was a swell running from a distant tropical storm. While not uncomfortable it did require keeping the revs up on the engine to help Otto van Steerer, our erstwhile autopilot, keep on course. This meant, in turn, that we were going just a bit too fast. Late in the evening on our second day out we were approaching Cape May. If we continued we would be rounding the cape and bucking a foul tide.
Never having been in the inlet to Cape May Harbor, we were a bit tentative about going in during a moonless night. Our cruising guides and pilot books indicate that there's a small anchorage inside but the holding isn't that good and it can be crowded at times. We knew of about half a dozen boats that were making the same trek as us, several of which were heading for that particular anchorage. Kit was making noises about heading in to Atlantic City instead, a port we'd reach in good light. But I was reluctant to head in so far north. After checking the charts for alternatives I noticed Harbor of Refuge at Cape Henlopen.
Cape May marks the right side of the entrance to Delaware Bay. Cape Henlopen marks the left. On leaving Harbor of Refuge one is immediately in the bay. On leaving Cape May Harbor one must travel about fifteen miles to round the cape before entering the bay. Thus Harbor of Refuge is a much more convenient staging point for entering Delaware Bay.
I checked our cruising guides and pilot books for more information. The guides say nothing about Harbor of Refuge. The pilot books indicate it was built primarily for ships and fishing boats to have protection from easterly winter gales. The entrance is wide enough for the largest freighter. There's enough room inside for dozens of boats at the same time. And there's an inner harbor reserved for smaller craft. Since we weren't expecting an easterly winter gale anytime soon I figured that the harbor would be pretty much empty.
Examining the charts more carefully we notice that there are not a lot of buoys to mark our way in. On the other hand the harbor has features that should stand out on a radar screen. It should be easy to negotiate the entrance in the dark.
So our captain makes the call and we head for Harbor of Refuge at Cape Henlopen. Entering turns out to be a piece of cake. We anchored just before midnight, planned our departure for 0630 the following morning and turned in. - tired but happy and satisfied puppies.
The trip up the Delaware Bay was without incident and we anchored as originally planned on Tuesday evening at Delaware City. Rich, an old Army buddy of mine, lives nearby. We contacted him and he came out for a short visit, staying for dinner.
The trip up the Delaware River on Wednesday to Philadelphia was straightforward, making good use of the tide.
We found a marina right beneath the Ben Franklin Bridge. It was very convenient to the historical sites, but a bit noisy from the bridge traffic at night. We had planned to stay four nights, wound up staying only three.
The first full day in Philadelphia was spent being tourists. We walked everywhere, visiting practically every historical site in town. There was the Betsy Ross house, Ben Franklin's shop, Ben Franklin's grave, Independence Hall (site of the Second Continental Congress, the Constitutional Convention and the first ten years of the newly formed government), the Liberty Bell, the Friends (Quaker) Meeting House, Carpenter's Hall (site of the First Continental Congress), and of course the Independence Seaport Museum. That one day was quite special. It fleshed out my knowledge of the founding of our country, correcting some misconceptions along the way. But mostly it brought the events of that time as alive as if I had been there myself. Thank you, my dear college history professor, for awakening my interest in history.
The second day was more leisurely. No more museums! We took the Phlash, a cross between a tourist bus and a public transit bus. The Phlash has a route through the city that stops within a block or two of every significant site in town, many of which we wouldn't have seen otherwise. We got on and off a number of times, mostly for shopping.
Feeling the need to continue southward, on Saturday morning we left with the outgoing tide. There was a good half mile of visibility in the light fog, enough that we had no difficulties in navigation. The scenery along the way is mostly industrial, nothing noteworthy, and we had seen it on the way up, so we didn't feel we missed anything.
By the time we reached the eastern terminus of the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal the fog had been replaced by a thick haze limiting visibility to a few miles. But the haze was not a problem. The canal is lined with forest, preventing us from seeing anything much beyond the shore anyway.
Our transit of the canal to Chesapeake City was disturbed by a large number of recreational craft whizzing by and, in some cases, throwing large and dangerous wakes. One inconsiderate fellow passed by only a few feet away while throwing a six foot high wake. I had barely enough time to react and turn into it. If I hadn't, we might have been swamped and may even have been rolled over! For about an hour we heard complaints over the radio of that jerk's stupidity as he passed through the canal.
There's actually a fun little dance to be done when a much faster boat is passing a slower one. The fast boat slows, inviting the slower boat to dance. The slow boat reduces headway, accepting the invitation and enabling the faster one to complete the pass quicker. Once passed, the slow boat speeds up and turns immediately into the passing wake. This signals the faster boat to resume normal speed. Once the slow boat is across the wake he turns to follow the fast boat in relatively flat water. When done right it's really a pleasure for both.
We're now at anchor in a little cove about three miles from the western entrance to the canal. We'll be here for a few days, mostly visiting Rich and his family. Then it's out into the Chesapeake Bay, cruising both the Eastern Shore and Western Shore as we work our way southward over the next several weeks.
|
|
|
|