Monthly Archives: July 2014

Monday, 14 July

Drained by a moon tide, there are spots where even shallow draft boats are in the mud.

Dark clouds to the west suggest NOAA may be right about thunderstorms later today.  Together, clouds and forecast discourage heading out of Manchester-by-the-Sea today.  Better to take the day to go in and walk about the town.

The “T” commuter train gives Manchester’s 5,000 residents easy access to downtown Boston but there’s plenty to see and do right here.  Long and narrow, the harbor is deep–except at the edges–so even the normal nine-foot tidal swing is not a problem for most boats.  Usually.

The stately library shares a park-like setting with Town Hall and the Congregational Church.

It takes about 15-minutes by launch or dinghy to get to the town landing at the head of the harbor where the train station’s just across the street, then hardware, grocery, shops and restaurants range to the left.  And of course, Dunkin’ Donuts.  A block up the hill, just before reaching the center of town, there’s even a shop with a great selection of used books, a requisite stop for any sailor.

Some of Manchester’s most interesting details can only be seen by looking up.

Head east from the town landing and it’s about a half-mile walk to “Singing Beach,” so named for the “music” some say is created by the sound of the granite sand reverberating off the boulders that frame it on three sides.  It’s a popular spot in summer, even on a weekday.

“Singing Beach” is only about a half-mile walk from the “T” station.

As recommended by locals, the Beach Cafe serves a tasty breakfast.  The lobster roll at Cala’s gets good reviews, as does a dinner special at The Landing that includes steamers, corn-on-the-cob and a 1/4 pound lobster for twenty bucks.  Hungry yet?

It seems, whatever you might want, Manchester won’t let you down.  Except possibly at low tide.

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 13 July

A wind shift, moon tide, too many beers: bad combination in Plymouth.

First off, there’s the matter of this being the 13^th day, not what generally is considered an auspicious day on which to cast off. Further discouragement came from NOAA, predicting the southerly would build to 15-to-20 by afternoon with gusts to 30. Enough to get a sailor’s attention, for sure.

Favoring departure from Plymouth were a) the fact Manchester, the next destination lay almost due north, i.e., down wind; and b) a consensus of weather gurus foresee an abrupt end to the sun-filled hours of the last week, foreseeing showers and thunderstorms tonight through Wednesday. In other words, wherever Steadfast lay tonight, she’d likely remain for a couple of days.

With all that in mind, and having seen what there is to seen of “America’s Hometown,” Steadfast was made ready and got underway at 0800, against a still ebbing moon tide that expanded the beaches of Plymouth Bay.

Little Red could manage just a bit more than four knots for the five-mile length of Plymouth channel. Then, turning to port past Plymouth Light, the genny was unfurled to lend a hand. The wind was something less than the 15 threatened but Steadfast quickly accelerated to 6, 6½ and often into the 7-knot range, pushed and pulled by the southerly wind and two-foot quartering sea.

With erosion taking its toll, it may not be there much longer but for now, Plymouth Light is a good landmark.

There’s not much to see when crossing Massachusetts Bay, just water, lobster pots and the Boston skyline far off to the west.

Steadfast entered Salem Channel shortly after 1400 with 121’ below her keel (a depth not typical for channels on the Chesapeake!) with seas by then approaching four, still under the port quarter. Past scenic Baker Island, then east in front of Little and Great Misery, and into the narrow harbor of Manchester-by-the-Sea.

Even “big” boats reefed down or furled sail as this gal passing Baker Island and yet another iconic lighthouse on its eastern point.

Forty-three-point-one nautical in a bit over seven hours, i.e., an average of six knots for the trip. Not bad a’tall. Oh, and that brings to mind point c) in favor of making the trip today. Manchester Yacht Club may be the best deal in New England: lovely, snug harbor, welcoming staff, nice shoreside facilities and, hard to believe, no charge.

Now that’s a deal any day of the month!

Steadfast out.

When the boat’s on the rocks, make the most of it!

Post Script: at low tide, the launch ride ashore took a bit longer than anticipated.  Yes.  Crossing the harbor to snag another passenger, conversations aboard were interrupted abruptly by the crunnnnnnnnnch of the hull running up on a rock.

And yes, the launch was–as the sloop shown earlier in this post–left high and dry.  (A passenger noted, “Now we know how Gilligan felt.”)  But…

The club staff quickly re-grouped, the eight aboard remained calm throughout and the launch was re-floated and back to the pier in short order.  Well, fairly short order. Really, it was no big deal.

Friday, 11 July

The “Rock” may be seen at the waterline of this mausoleum built as a shrine.

According to the signs around town, all the hand-outs and visitor maps, Plymouth is “America’s Hometown.” Get it? Pilgrims, Plymouth Rock, what is stated to be “the oldest continuously maintained English settlement in the United States.” This claim is made notwithstanding the fact that Jamestown was founded in 1609 and the Pilgrims did not step on the Rock for another 11 years. But let’s not quibble over details. Let’s see what “America’s Hometown” is all about.

First stop, of course, the Rock where, it is said, Plymouth started. It also happens to be the historical site closest to Plymouth Yacht Club and that’s where the launch lands its passengers. Wind, wave and souvenir hunters have taken their toll. There’s not much of the rock left so that stop is brief.

A block or so away, is Mayflower II, replica of the 100’ long ship that arrived in mid-November after a 66-day crossing from England. Given her sleek lines, that must’ve been a pleasant crossing.

Mayflower II may not be ready for sea but she’s ready to be seen.

Farther down Front Street—which, duh—fronts the harbor, a stop at the Visitor Center yields intel on all manner of activity and attraction hereabouts. It’s good to get started early. School’s out, the weather’s perfect—sunny and 75 with a light breeze off the water—and the sidewalks and attractions get crowded.

With all the t-shirts and taffy, it’s easy to forget that Plymouth is a working harbor, too.

For local “color,” you can’t beat the Town Wharf, the working waterfront of Plymouth, home to the Harbormaster, fuel dock and a fleet of lobster boats.

Kate pays her respects to the memorial to her forefather.

The exhibits at Pilgrim Hall, up the hill on Court Street, are worth a visit. But of greatest interest to the crew of Steadfast was Burial Hill, where a tall obelisk marks the tomb of Thomas Cushman, one of the key men in the founding of Plymouth. He also happens to be one of Kate’s forebears. There are numerous other stones worth note and a remarkable view over the harbor, breakwater and beyond to the bay.

On a clear day, the view over Plymouth from Burial Hill is spectacular.

With all that walking around, it’s worth considering a stop for “home made” ice cream from Peaceful Meadows Farm. The Blue-Eyed Crab serves a wicked mango-guava barbecued swordfish sandwich and mixes Gosling’s with Boston’s own ginger beer, A. J. Stephan’s. Good stuff.

But wait, there’s more…at least, there is this weekend. With Arthur’s visit on the Fourth, the town postponed its celebration to the Twelfth, old-time small town parade with plenty of politicians, patriotic fervor, fire trucks, and a smattering of marching bands. When that ended, the Plymouth Folk & Blues Festival began at the new bandshell on the Commons. And tonight, there’s fireworks from a barge just the other side of the breakwater from where Steadfast sits. (It is hoped the wind continues to blow from the west.)

Police, patriots and politicians highlight the Independence Day parade in Plymouth.

So after all of that, what do you think – “America’s Hometown?”

For this visit, at least, it does feel a lot like home.

Steadfast out.

Thursday, 10 July

Cape Cod Bay is slick calm, barely a ripple scratching its dark mirror-like surface. The southerly that chopped up New England waters for a week or more finally blew itself out with overnight ostentation, a drip draining to downpour punctuated by jagged lasers and rumbles of timpani.

So Steadfast gets no boost from the wind today, no way. It’s all up to Little Red, turning her usual 2200 times a minute but with a big boost from a fair current.

The Army Corps of Engineers keeps a watchful eye on vessel traffic in the Cape Cod Canal.

After the requisite check with Eldridge confirmed the time of departure, Steadfast motored out of Onset Bay a bit after 1400, turning nor’east to head up Cape Cod Canal. What was less than a half-knot current at the start swelled quickly. As water speed slowed, speed over ground grew. Six, then seven-plus, and by the Sagamore Bridge more than eight-knots. Sweet.

One of three spans that cross the canal, the railroad bridge remains up except when trains approach.

Sandwich Town Marina—the preferred choice for the night—confirmed that no berth was available tonight nor through the weekend. But the always hospitable Harbormaster in Plymouth assured a town mooring would be there for the night. A bit of a stretch, committing to 28-plus-miles so late in the day, but

alternatives were few, as in none. So through the canal, she turned north and Little Red revved on.

As it turns out, the trip couldn’t be less eventful. The fair current continued up Cape Cod Bay and Steadfast is into Plymouth Harbor—within sight of the Mayflower II—before 1830, just four hours, 20-minutes after leaving Onset, average speed more than 6.6 knots!

Now in private hands, Duxbury Light still serves mariners, marking the channel into Plymouth Harbor.

Aboard under a nearly full moon, the night passes quietly, much like the waters of Plymouth Bay beyond the maze of beaches, shoals and dunes that protect the inner harbor. NOAA thinks it’ll be like this a couple of days, meaning not much sailing to be done on Cape Cod Bay. But that’s okay; there’s lots to see and do in Plymouth.

Steadfast out.

Wednesday, 9 July

It’s always handy to have but sailing the Northeast would be a real challenge without a copy of Eldridge Tide and Pilot Book. One supposes it’s less critical with a motoryacht that just powers through an adverse current. But a vessel that does just five-plus knots at slack tide won’t make much way against a five-knot current.

So it was that Eldridge was consulted before leaving Marion to enter Hog Island Channel which feeds into the Cape Cod Canal. The wind still blowing out of the south would conspire with an ebb current from the Canal to build a nasty chop.

Bird Island, with its landmark light, is named not of #33 of the Celtics but for the terns that flock there.

So it was that Steadfast did not get underway ‘til nearly noon, motoring past Ram Island, then setting the genny for a brisk beat eastward before turning nor’east to a broad reach round Bird Island with its now abandoned landmark lighthouse.

The late start was not an issue this day, since the destination—Onset Bay—lay just a little more than nine nautical miles away. Entering Hog Island Channel, the genny was furled and Little Red took over for the remaining four-and-a-half NM, covered at a quick pace, thanks to the fair current.

Onset Bay is well-sheltered against the southerly that continued to blow through the day and night. There was time to go ashore and explore the village less than a mile from the dinghy dock at Onset Bay Marina. A Pink Floyd cover band was setting up for a concert in the park and added “Another Brick in the Wall” to dinner aboard.

Gingerbread of Victorian homes that rim Onset Bay bask in the golden glow of another sunset.

The principal entertainment for the evening, though, was another pastel sunset. To enjoy that, no reference book was needed.

Steadfast out.

I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by. – John Masefield

Tuesday, 8 July

“Seven o’clock,” stated with the authority that can be employed only by a young officer of a tall ship. And then, asked whether the wind might again delay the Morgan’s departure, “We leave at seven.” Any other stupid questions?

Nope. And duly informed, Steadfast was made ready to cast off from Pope’s Island in time Tuesday to watch the restored Charles W. Morgan leave New Bedford Harbor.

On a short hawser and with one on the hip, the Morgan eases off the State Pier.

Her canvas began to pull her eastward as she passed New Bedford Light.

Once she dropped her mains and topsails, there was no keeping up. Steadfast followed in her wake, though, turning due east at the channel’s Red-4, opening the genny to sail well south of West Island past, then to a heading of 030 M to the mouth of Sippican Harbor. By the time, she’d snaked around Ram Island to Marion’s inner harbor, it was a nearly nineteen-mile day, averaging 4½ knots with just the genoa, thanks to the so’westerly that’s kicked up Buzzards Bay ever since Arthur left town.

Marion is lovely. A stroll around town reveals a succession of streets lined with historic cedar-shingled homes leading to the General Store, ice cream parlor, Post Office and a handful of offices on Front Street. Tabor Academy’s just down the road.

Cedar-shake siding dominates Marion homes.

With a southerly gusting to 25 or 30, though, the harbor does get a bit rolly, even tucked behind the island. Not the worst night, mind you, but far from sound slumber on a placid pond.

That is, unless one might be aboard the nearly replica Mystic Whaler, the 100-foot-long schooner that sailed up the Bay and tucked in here this evening on her way to join the Morgan tomorrow.

Seeing off one tall ship in the morning, greeting a second after dinner. Aye-aye, quite the day!

Steadfast out.

Though not seen under sail, her sails were seen.

Monday, 8 July

As was the case yesterday, there was some debate as to whether to shove off.  After all, Steadfast has been in New Bedford almost as long as the Morgan which was expected to leave the State Pier this morning.  But then, the announcement came from Dana Hewson, the operations person at Mystic Seaport.

“The forecast for sustained winds and gusts and sea conditions for Buzzards Bay exceeds our level of comfort for operating the ship.”

Ya know, if conditions are beyond Dana’s “level of comfort,” maybe this is a good day to get a couple of little projects taken care of on Steadfast.

A whaleboat crew puts the blustery wind to good use as she races past the Charles W. Morgan

The Morgan was scheduled to sail today for Massachusetts Maritime Academy at the southern end of the Cape Cod Canal for the next stop in its journey.  Now she plans to leave at 0700 Tuesday morning, spend the night at Mass Maritime, then set sail for Provincetown, arriving there Wednesday, July 9.

Neighbors on A-Dock made Steadfast and crew feel right at home.

The unexpected lay-day made time for re-provisioning, thanks to Tony making available his auto. Later, there was dinner with Tracy and Paul of Liberty Call at “Gene’s” where the seafood is delicious and the portions more than ample!  Check it out!

The idea tomorrow would be to get out of harbor and up Buzzards Bay before the wind really pipes up again in late morning.  So that’s the plan for Steadfast, too, in hopes of seeing the Morgan under sail.  Now wouldn’t that be a kick!?

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 7 July

Fairhaven Town Hall is another one of the grand buildings erected there in the early 1890s.

It is said that during the heyday of the whaling industry, New Bedford was the richest city in America.  Its neighbor Fairhaven, on the opposite bank of the Acushnet River, did pretty well, too, as evidenced by the impressive nineteenth century homes that grace its streets.

Though modest by Newport standards, homes built by Fairhaven’s elite are impressive nonetheless.

That was the extent of the travel this day, all afoot.  NOAA’s forecast again proved too accurate.  It posted a Small Craft Advisory effective 1100 and danged if the wind didn’t pipe up once again right at 11.  Fifteen-to-20, gusting to 25-plus the rest of what otherwise was another gorgeous day.  But with the combination of heavy wind whipping up four-foot seas, it was not a day for Steadfast to be under sail.

The Fairhave militia repelled the British with shot from the parapets at Fort Phoenix.

Maybe tomorrow, perhaps a short hop up to Marion, should NOAA concur.

Fairhaven Town Hall is another one of the grand buildings erected there in the early 1890s.

Steadfast out.

Saturday, 5 July

“The town itself is perhaps the dearest place to live in, in all New England..nowhere in all America will you find more patrician-like houses, parks and gardens more opulent, than in New Bedford…all these brave houses and flowery gardens came from the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. One and all, they were harpooned and dragged up hither from the bottom of the sea.”

Herman Melville, “Moby-Dick”

More than $2MM was spent for a total re-build of the whaling ship Charles W. Morgan.

In the forty years when New Bedford flourished as “The City that Lit the world,” hundreds of square-rigged ships called it their home port.  Just imagine the harbor filled with tall ships, a forest of masts rising to the sky.  Only one such vessel remains and she happens to be here this wviveekend.

The Charles W. Morgan came “home” to help New Bedford celebrate Independence Day.  And once “Arthur” blew through, New Bedford celebrated in a big way.  Cobblestone streets and granite walls echoed with the sounds of the New Bedford Folk Festival.

Automobiles seem out of place on the narrow cobblestone streets of New Bedford.

There were whaleboat races and reenactments.  And everywhere, flags and bunting billowed in the breeze.

Thousands made their way to the State Pier pay their respects.  And once the sun went down, a barge loaded with what seemed to be thousands of fireworks shot them skyward over the harbor.  What a show!

Scallops are the principal catch for the fleet standing-by this day in New Bedford Harbor.

Most of the more than a hundred fishing vessels that now make their home here stayed in port this weekend, their crews enjoying the holiday, too.  But those boats were all but ignored, the attention instead focused on the big black-hulled girl built here 170 years ago and now the last of her kind still afloat.

Steadfast out.

Independence Day, 4 July

“Arthur, he does what he pleases.

All of his life his master’s toys

And deep in his heart

He’s just a boy

Livin’ his life one day at a time.”  lyric from the theme to Arthur.

Rain and fog shroud the harbor but, so far, that’s all Arthur’s up to in New Bedford.

That may work for Dudley Moore but the Arthur now visiting here does what he pleases and is not playing around.

It is raining. That is, RAINING, as in rain coming down sideways. The air has cooled considerably. The occasional flash illuminates the thick overcast and fog that now smother New Bedford Harbor. So far, those bolts have been followed by low rumbles, not loud claps, so there’s a sense they’re not near. It is hoped they continue to stay away.

Steadfast, meanwhile, shudders off and on with a northerly gust, rocks gently in her slip at Pope’s Island Marina, just east of the New Bedford-Fairhaven Bridge, tucked in among dozens of other boats, mostly larger, all seeking shelter behind the hurricane wall and gates where it’s hoped Arthur doesn’t find them. The crew’s aboard, hunkered down, staying dry. Mostly.

There were brief showers this morning as if to announce Arthur’s impending arrival.  Now that he’s here for real, his mischief pre-empts much photo documentation of the day. Perhaps he’ll take a break later.

As for Dudley Moore, it is well-documented what he did when “caught between the moon and New York City.”

It remains to be seen what this Arthur does in New Bedford. But this much is known, for sure: it will be a Dark & Stormy night!

Steadfast out.

Post Script: the National Weather Service measured Arthur’s total rainfall in New Bedford at nearly seven (7) inches.