August 13, 2010
Atlantic City, NJ
Going out the Cape May Inlet – everything looks so placid
There’s only one way to put it: We got our asses kicked!
Our time in Cape May was nice. I think I showered three times in the two days we were at Utsch’s. Did some laundry. Loaded up with beer. Went to town. Life was good.
Yesterday morning, we got up, went to Dock Mike’s Pancake House for breakfast, fueled up and got ready to leave. The weather predictions had changed little: Winds 10-15 knots from the east, waves 1-3 feet. Perfect! We left Utsch’s a little after 9:30am. It was raining by the time we got out the Cape May inlet.
Perhaps there were signs.
Licking my wounds after almost falling over
When pushing off from the fuel dock, my boat hook slipped off the piling and I fell. I thought for sure I was going into the drink, but just as I was going overboard, the boat’s life lines caught me. I have a couple of nasty cuts to prove it. I wasn’t bleeding that bad, so we kept going.
Should we have noticed that the weather was not what was predicted? We thought the rain was nice. It was much cooler than our days on the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays. We kept going.
Out the inlet – doesn’t look too inviting
Or, how about when we got out into the Atlantic, we were motoring into a nasty cross swell? We justified it by telling ourselves that NOAA Weather Radio was predicting different weather, ergo it will soon change and will all be good. We pushed on.
Now, here’s the thing: I get sea sick when the boat wallows in the ocean. As we motored in the odd cross swell, the boat wallowed and I began feeling that nauseating feeling. Crap.
Then it happened. The engine lost power and died.
“Uh oh!,” I said, not because I was worried about the engine, but because a boat with no motion in the water wallows worse than anything. I could feel myself turning green. This had happened the other day on the Delaware Bay, where we lost power, let things cool down, sailed a bit (it is a sailboat after all), primed the fuel pump and everything was fine. The difference is now we have the ocean to deal with and it’s not being very nice. I immediately tacked off shore and set some sail. The ride smoothed out and I began feeling better.
When I am in this condition, I am able to function pretty well, as long as I can lay down in between spurts of productivity. I set some sail, then laid down flat on my back, one hand on the tiller. Then I got back up and set the Cape Horn wind vane, so the boat can steer itself, while I laid down flat on deck, only having to sit up from time to time to make sure we won’t hit anything unsuspected in the ocean. I was able to return to our projected course and sail north east as Pat kept working below. Almost feeling better and with the sun coming out, I decided to take off my shirt and get some sun. There I lay, sea sick and sunning, only to fall asleep. Idiot! I do not know how long I was out. Pat kept working and never noticed. All I know is when I awoke, I was burnt to a crisp!
“Shit!” was the only thing I could say. Not only am I sea sick, but soon I’ll be suffering from hypothermia. The weather sucks. We are tacking up the coast basically getting no where, but we are too far to go back. Atlantic City was the next port where we would be able to stop and we were less than 10 miles from there. Pat made the decision to use his unlimited towing package from Tow BoatUS.
Pat had wanted to simply wait for Tow BoatUS to arrive. “And what? Just sit here and let me puke all over your boat? I don’t think so. I haven’t thrown up yet and I don’t intend to start. We keep sailing until they show up.” Realizing the wisdom of my vomit-free tactics, Pat agreed and we continued sailing, making 3 knots through 6 foot breaking waves while going nowhere.
Eventually Tow BoatUS arrived and we struggled to get the tow bridle on board in the rough conditions. Once secured and underway, I hurried back to the cockpit and resumed the position of lying flat on my back, doing everything in my power to keep the vomitosys at bay.
After what seemed like an eternity, we came in the inlet. By this time, the sea sickness had subsided, but the sun burn left me a shivering idiot. I was the only one in the whole harbor dressed head-to-toe in a complete set of foul weather gear. Tow BoatUS took us along side and maneuvered us to a side tie at the Trump Marina in Atlantic City. Last time I was here in 2004 on your Voyage of Our Lifetime, we didn’t come ashore, as we anchored out and then kept moving. So, I’ve never really been to Atlantic City. Guess it is time to give it a try.
Earlier, Pat had made a call to friend of his to let her know our status. I over heard her say “Well, try to look at the bright side.” Pat’s response was “Oh, yeah. The bright side. This is an adventure, but it isn’t fun. It’s only great when both of those elements line up together. I’m just figuring we’ll have a story to tell.” He was right. This is an adventure and it is definitely not fun. Here I am telling the story, which I know will only get better over time.
All I know is I woke up this morning feeling like I’d been run down by the Exxon Valdez. Now, to this engine thing.
– Steve